Supreme Justice

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by Phillip Margolin


  Dana was an excellent poker player, and she kept any emotion from showing as she sifted through the contents of the bag. Halfway through the mess, her long shot came through in the form of a crumpled, half-filled-out subpoena. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hunsacker watching her closely, so she controlled her desire to read the subpoena and made it the fifth piece of paper she studied. It only took her a moment to see what Dietz had written and, in that moment, she knew she was right.

  Instead of feeling elated, she felt sick.

  Chapter Sixty-four

  Sarah Woodruff had a huge smile on her face when she walked into the visiting room at the Willamette Valley Correctional Facility for Women.

  "I don't know how to thank you," Sarah said. "The stories in Exposed created a political climate that almost forced the Court to take my appeal. Mary won't say it, but I know she thinks she's going to get them to send my case down for a new trial and force the government to reveal what they know about the China Sea. When I'm free, I insist on taking you to dinner at the best restaurant in Portland."

  "You may not want to when you learn why I'm here."

  Sarah stopped smiling. "What's up?" she asked, her voice suddenly chilly with suspicion.

  Dana lowered her voice. "I know you killed John Finley."

  Woodruff turned pale.

  "You don't have to worry about me. I made certain Mary hired me as your investigator. Everything I know is covered by the attorney-client privilege, so I can't be compelled to talk to Monte Pike or anyone else."

  "If you think I killed John, why are you protecting me?"

  "Finley put you through hell the first time. I don't know what went on when he died. I'm certain that you didn't kill him in the heat of passion, but this is not my fight."

  "So why put your nose where it doesn't belong?" Woodruff asked angrily.

  "Plain old curiosity. Once I figured everything out, I had to know if I was right."

  "What do you think you know?" Woodruff asked.

  "I went through the evidence that was taken from Max Dietz's office. I was looking for one item. Dietz asked his secretary for a stack of subpoena forms on the day he disappeared. He made a mistake on one of the forms and crumpled it up. But he didn't throw it away. It was a subpoena to a bank for any account belonging to you."

  "So what?"

  "The investigators who looked into Dietz's disappearance missed the significance of the subpoena, and I almost did, too. You grew up poor, Sarah. Your salary as a police officer is the most money you've ever made. How were you able to pay Mary Garrett's retainer and finance a gold-plated defense?"

  Woodruff didn't answer, but Dana saw her fists clench hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

  "There have been rumors from the start of the case about a quarter of a million dollars that John Finley was given to pay the crew and other expenses, but no one ever found that money." Dana caught herself. "Correction, no one but you."

  Dana waited for a response. When there was none, she continued.

  "Here's what I think happened. Finley was wounded when he fled the ship. If he stopped to hide the money or the duffel bag, the kidnappers would have got him before he reached your condo. And he couldn't stop, because he was wounded and needed medical help. But he couldn't go to a hospital, and you were the only one he knew who could help him.

  "You've told everyone that you didn't know that Finley had hidden his duffel bag in your house on the evening he fled the China Sea. I don't believe that. I think you found the bag when you were released from the hospital and took the money. Then you hid the duffel bag, but you didn't hide it in your house. If you had, the police would have found it when they searched your place.

  "The first time you were arrested, you knew you didn't kill Finley and you were desperate to help Mary Garrett prove your innocence in any way she could, so you told her several names you claimed John Finley had mentioned. Those names were Orrin Hadley, Dennis Lang, and Larry Kester, the names in the false passports that were found in Finley's duffel bag when his body was discovered.

  "You couldn't tell Garrett where you saw those names without admitting that you'd found the duffel bag and looked inside it. Once you admitted that, anyone looking for the money would know you'd stolen it. So you made up a story about overhearing Finley say the names.

  "I think you believed that Finley had been killed by his kidnappers and that everyone connected with the money would believe the drug dealers or the CIA had the cash. But you couldn't leave the money in your house. You had to hide it. So you went around Portland making deposits of less than ten thousand dollars in many banks, so they wouldn't have to file reports with the government, which the banks must do for cash deposits in excess of ten thousand. That's the money you used to finance your legal defense.

  "Then you learned that Finley didn't die, and you knew he'd show up eventually, looking for his money. And when he did, you killed him with the throw-down gun you stole from the evidence in the drug case. To cover yourself, you fired a shot from your service gun into the floor in the entryway so you could explain the shot your neighbor heard. How am I doing so far?"

  Woodruff was staring at Dana with a look of pure hatred. Dana didn't blame her.

  "Unfortunately for you, the police made a match between the throw-down and the drug case and found your signature on the log, which made you the last person to handle the gun after the drug case was over. And you had the misfortune of having a nosy neighbor who saw Finley go into your condo on the evening you killed him.

  "Then it got worse. Max Dietz figured out that you'd taken the missing money and tried to blackmail you with a threat to serve the subpoenas on the banks unless you gave him the quarter million you took from Finley. I think you killed him and buried him somewhere to protect yourself."

  "You don't expect me to respond, do you?" Woodruff asked.

  "You're too smart for that."

  "All of what you've said is theory, anyway. You don't have hard evidence to support any of it."

  "Not now, but I have an idea how I could get some. I'm betting that there are still accounts with amounts of less than ten thousand dollars that were opened in several banks around the time you were first accused of killing John Finley. If I'm wrong, there will still be bank records showing the deposits and withdrawals. I'm betting, post 9/11, getting the skinny on those accounts would be a snap for Homeland Security, the FBI, or the CIA. What do you think?"

  "Do you plan to tell your theory to anyone?" Woodruff asked.

  "No. I told you, I made Mary hire me so I wouldn't have to get involved, but Monte Pike knows we were looking for something when Mary and I went through Dietz's stuff. He's supposed to be a genius. I guess we'll find out real soon just how smart he is."

  Chapter Sixty-five

  Someone knocked on Brad's office door. When he looked up, Ginny was standing in the doorway.

  "This is a pleasant surprise," he said. "Why aren't you in the salt mine?"

  Ginny sat down. Justice Moss had not hired another clerk yet, so Brad had the office to himself.

  "Remember you told me that you didn't think I'd get in trouble at the firm because I took pictures of the TA Enterprises file?" Ginny asked.

  "Sure. Masterson's dead, and that associate . . ."

  "Greg McKenzie."

  "Right, McKenzie. He's not going to open his mouth. If he wants to make partner, McKenzie will want everyone at Rankin Lusk to forget how tight he was with Masterson, so he's not going to talk about the TA Enterprises file. I think you can forget about the CIA, hashish, and ninja assassins and go back to worrying about your billable hours."

  Ginny sighed. "I sort of miss the ninjas. They're a lot nicer to deal with than the partners."

  She was quiet for a moment, and Brad could see that something was bothering her.

  "I'm thinking of leaving Rankin Lusk," Ginny said.

  "What brought this on?"

  "When you said that McKenzie would try to distance himself from
Dennis Masterson and keep his mouth shut about my part in exposing the TA Enterprises file, you made a fatal error in your analysis. You assumed that Rankin Lusk is a caring, moral entity, when in fact it is a collection of sociopaths who are interested in one thing and one thing only, the bottom line. Dennis Masterson was the firm's biggest rainmaker, and his death will cut into profits. Anyone who makes any attempt to expose a rainmaker is a villain in the eyes of the firm, even if it is clear that the rainmaker is a murdering swine. Anyway, I am being treated like a leper by almost everyone, and any support I've received has been whispered by people who look around nervously when they talk to me."

  Brad looked the woman he loved in the eye. "Do you want to be associated with the type of people you've just described, regardless of the money?"

  Ginny smiled ruefully. "No. I've pretty much decided to quit, but we're going to be hit pretty hard financially if I leave."

  "We will be poor but honest, like characters in a Dickens novel."

  "Oliver Twist didn't have student loans."

  Brad smiled. "We'll be OK, kiddo. Between Justice Moss and Justice Kineer, we have enough heavyweights on our side to get work. And this time, look for something you really want to do. Don't just think about the money. This is your second job at a huge law firm, and they've both left you with a sour taste in your mouth."

  "Your term on the Court is more than halfway through. Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do?"

  "I guess I do have to start thinking about next year. The government doesn't pay that well, but the work is exciting. I'm thinking the Justice Department or a job in the Congress."

  Ginny sighed. "Now that I've decided to leave Rankin Lusk behind, I feel like a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. And you know what else?"

  "No, what?"

  "I do think we'll be OK."

  Epilogue

  Monte Pike sat in one of the conference rooms in the district attorney's office with his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, and his feet propped on a corner of the long table that dominated the room. Pike had put the Woodruff case on the back burner while he waited to see what the Supreme Court did. He had plenty of other cases to keep him occupied, and the four months it had taken for the Court to reverse had helped him to come at the case with fresh eyes.

  Pike was reading the unanimous opinion of the Court, which held that the state-secrets privilege could not be used to keep exculpatory evidence from a defendant facing the death penalty. Pike knew that Mary Garrett was going to come at him with artillery blazing this time around, and he would be lucky if he got a conviction. He took a sip of his latte as he stared at the boxes that covered the table. They were the same boxes filled with evidence relating to Max Dietz that Garrett and Dana Cutler had gone through months ago. Bob Hunsacker had no idea what the women had been looking for. Now Pike was going to go through the boxes to see if he could figure out what had piqued Cutler's and Garrett's interest.

  Pike finished the opinion and laid it beside his drink. He stared down the table at the boxes as if willing them to give up their secret.

  "Where are you, little fella?" Pike asked the evidence. "Better tell me now and save yourself a lot of pain, 'cause you can run, but you can't hide."

  Acknowledgments

  Supreme Justice was a lot of fun to write because it gave me an excuse to tour the United States Supreme Court as part of my research. I argued a case there in 1978, but I was in my early thirties and only in my fifth year of practice and way too nervous to ask for a tour. My thanks to the Honorable Diarmuid O'Scannlain for contacting Kathleen Arberg, the Court's public-relations officer, who arranged for the tour and was a gracious host. But my special thanks go to Bill Suter, the clerk of the Court, who took time from his busy day to act as my tour guide and answer my questions. He was a great help in making this book as realistic as possible, and he is not responsible for anything I got wrong. I am especially grateful for his recommendation that I purchase The Supreme Court of the United States, by Fred J. Maroon and Suzy Maroon (Lickle Publishing Inc., 1996), whose superb photographs and text helped me describe parts of the Court that Mr. Suter could not show me and areas I'd seen but had trouble remembering accurately.

  My thanks to Professor Sue Deller Ross of Georgetown Law School for introducing me to former Supreme Court clerk Rebecca Tushnet, who answered my questions about a clerk's daily routine. Thanks also to my son-in-law Andy Rome for hooking me up with Richard Bartlett, another former clerk. I also made good use of Edward Lazarus's descriptions of the life of a Supreme Court law clerk in his book Closed Chambers (Crown, 1998).

  I could not have written Supreme Justice without help from several experts: Brian Ostrom and Dr. Karen Gunson rode to the rescue once again by answering questions about medicine and science--areas in which I am woefully ignorant. Charles Gorder, Barry Sheldahl, and Fred Weinhouse helped me develop an issue that could, theoretically, come to the Court someday. Finally, the help of ship captain Sid Lewis was invaluable.

  I don't know about other authors, but I need a good editor to take my first draft and make it into a book that can be published. Sally Kim did an excellent job cleaning up my mess. Thanks also to Maya Ziv, her assistant; Jonathan Burnham; Heather Drucker; the HarperCollins sales force and art department; and all the others at HarperCollins who have given me so much support over the years.

  I can never thank Jean Naggar, Jennifer Weltz, and everyone at the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency enough. I'm also grateful to my assistant, Robin Haggard, and Carolyn Lindsey for their research skills. Thanks also to Daphne Webb for her expertise in all things relating to Wisconsin.

  And finally, I thank Doreen, my muse, who is always in my heart.

  About the Author

  PHILLIP MARGOLIN has written fourteen New York Times bestsellers, including his latest novels Fugitive and Executive Privilege. Each displays a unique, compelling insider's view of criminal behavior, which comes from his long career as a criminal defense attorney who has handled thirty murder cases. Winner of the Distinguished Northwest Writer Award, Margolin lives in Portland, Oregon.

  WWW.PHILLIPMARGOLIN.COM

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  Also by Phillip Margolin

  Executive Privilege

  Lost Lake

  Sleeping Beauty

  The Associate

  The Undertaker's Widow

  The Burning Man

  After Dark

  Gone, but Not Forgotten

  The Last Innocent Man

  Heartstone

  Amanda Jaffe Novels

  Fugitive

  Proof Positive

  Ties That Bind

  Wild Justice

  Copyright

  SUPREME JUSTICE. Copyright (c) 2010 by Phillip M. Margolin. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  FIRST EDITION

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Margolin, Phillip. Supreme justice : a novel of suspense / Phillip Margolin. p. cm. ISBN 978-0-06-192651-8 (Hardcover) ISBN 978-0-06-199181-3 (International Edition) 1. Private investigators--Washington (D.C.)--Fiction. 2. United States. Supreme Court--Fiction. 3. Judges--Selection and appointment--Fiction. 4. Murder--Investigation--Fiction. 5. Washington (D.C.)--Fiction. 6. Political fiction. I. Title. PS3563.A649S87 2010 813'.54--dc22

  2010004914

  EPub Edition (c) 2010 ISBN: 9780061994777

  10 11 12 13 14 OV/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter one

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Part III Sarah Woodruff

  June-December 2006

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Part IV Deja Vu

  June 2007

  Chapter Thirty-one

 

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