Outlaws

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Outlaws Page 25

by Tim Green


  "I know," she said, "but you know Cody Grey, and he trusts you. He's going to be much better at all this if you're right there."

  'The firm's not going to be too thrilled with it," he said, pulling into the police station's parking lot.

  "Why not?" she said flippantly. "We can bill Grey for your time too. He can pay for it."

  "He doesn't have it, really," Marty said.

  "After eight years of playing in the NFL, he's broke?" she said.

  "Almost," Marty replied.

  "Now why doesn't that surprise me," Madison said flatly, as though she was thinking about something else.

  Marty followed Madison through the front doors of the police station. She walked in like she owned the place. She demanded to know where Mrs. Grey was and who had already spoken with her. She would see her first. They were met outside Jenny's interrogation room by Detective Zimmer. " "What do you know, Detective?" Madison asked, not bothering with any niceties.

  Zimmer gave her a painful smile. He hadn't expected Madison McCall to show up. He knew who she was, and he didn't like her one bit. He didn't have to tell her a damn thing, but she'd find it all out sooner or later, and he was going to relish laying it on her.

  "The victim was shot at 1:30 A. M. I already know your guy didn't get in until two-thirty this morning. The wife told me," he said with a broad grin.

  "You were told not to question the wife," Madison said curtly. She wouldn't mention that it would never get in as evidence. She wanted him to be cocky.

  "She volunteered that information before she spoke with Cahn," Zimmer replied, eyeing the tax attorney. "She also told us, like everyone else, that Grey said he was going to kill Board."

  "What else?" Madison asked with a piercing stare.

  "Your guy beat the victim up in front of more than two dozen witnesses," Zimmer said, continuing to smile. "He threatened to kill him. We have footprints at the crime scene of a football turf shoe, size twelve. Your guy is size twelve. The victim was killed with a .11. Shot in the head. We haven't found the weapon yet."

  "Was my client's home searched already?" she asked.

  "We're doing it now," Zimmer said.

  "That's all circumstantial, Detective. You don't even have probable cause to an-est my client. You're looking at false arrest. I'm going to get this whole thing thrown out by Monday afternoon."

  "Oh? Did I forget something?" Zimmer said sarcastically. "Oh, yes, Ms. McCall, we have an eyewitness who saw your client fleeing the scene immediately after the gunshot. We got a positive ID from a photo . And I know something else," he said with a grin. "I know you got your work cut out for you, Ms. McCall."

  Madison bit her lower lip. "I'll see Mrs. Grey now."

  "Right this way." Zimmer lead her through a swinging the door, opening it for her with a mock-gallant bow.

  Madison went in and sat down across the table from Jenny Grey. The two of them had met only briefly years ago, standing outside the locker room while waiting for their husbands to shower after a game.

  "I'm Madison McCall," Madison reintroduced herself. "Call me Madison I'm going to be representing your husband."

  "I'm Jenny."

  "Jenny, can you tell me what you've told the police already?" Madison asked gently.

  Jenny recounted everything she'd said, including the details about Cody's returning home one full hour after Board was killed and what Cody had said in the restaurant. That was about all.

  "I hope I didn't do anything wrong?" Jenny said.

  "Mrs. Gr--Jenny, don't worry about it at all. They can't ask you another thing, and quite frankly, they can't make you testify against your husband. So anything you may have said will not hurt his case at all."

  'Thank you," Jenny replied.

  "You're welcome," Madison said. "Now if you want to wait, we can take you home. There's no reason for you to stay. I don't want you to say another word to the police. You won't be able to see your husband, though, until I can get bail set. I can have one of the detectives take you home if you like."

  "Will Cody be in jail?" Jenny asked.

  "I think we can get him arraigned and out on bail today," Madison said. "Marty is working on that right now."

  'Thank you. I'll go with a detective, but can you call me if anything happens at all?" Jenny asked, the very image of a concerned and devoted wife.

  "Sure, and you're welcome, Jenny." Madison handed her a card. "I'll call you if anything happens. And if you have any questions for me, my numbers at home and at my office are both on there."

  Madison arranged for detectives Remo and Courtney to take Jenny home. Marty showed up and told her he'd spoken with the team owner. Marty felt confident that a call from a heavyweight judge would be forthcoming. Then they had Zimmer lead them to Cody's interrogation room. His mug shot had already been taken, and he'd been fingerprinted and booked. Zimmer had been careful not to let anyone ask the player anything. He had the feeling this case was in the bank with or without any information from Grey, and he didn't want to let him get off the hook on some ridiculous technicalities, which in his opinion set too many killers free.

  Cody was sitting by himself in the middle of the white-walled room. He sprang from his seat when he saw them and grabbed Marty around the shoulders in an uncharacteristic display of emotion.

  "Marty, damn," he said, "I was never so happy to see someone. You gotta get me outta here. This whole thing is crazy!"

  Marty blushed at Cody's crude hug and kind words. He was glad, though, that Madison could see a side of his client that people didn't always get to see.

  "Cody," Marty said, turning to Madison. "This is Madison McCall. She is not only my best friend, she is the best criminal defense lawyer in the state of Texas, probably the whole country. I've gotten her to agree to represent you in this."

  Cody looked up at the lovely female attorney, noticing her for the first time. She was so attractive that, even under what were extremely trying circumstances, Cody realized it. He also noted that her eyes were alert with intelligence.

  "Hello," Cody said, holding out his hand.

  "Hello." Madison shook hands with Cody. She hadn't remembered him being such a handsome man. His dark hair and deep green eyes highlighted a face that, except for his sad smile, was almost pretty. Probably, like many athletes, his looks had only increased the likelihood of his downfall. Madison knew firsthand that professional football players got to live by their own set of rules. Good-looking ones received more favors, attention, and leeway when it came to the law.

  Cody had an intensity about him that reminded Madison of her ex- husband. That wasn't comforting, but despite the similarity, there also something decidedly different about Cody Grey. Maybe it was the way his eyes didn't rove up and down her body, sizing her up like some kind of breeder, the way most men's did. Instead, Cody Grey's eyes pierced deep into her own without wavering.

  "I didn't do anything wrong," Cody told them. "1 beat up on the guy a little last night. I know that was stupid. But believe me, this guy asked for it.

  "Marty," Cody said, turning to his agent, "you know what I mean, you've seen this guy. He sat right down at our table and started mouthing off about my wife. I couldn't just . . . well, it was stupid, but I sure as hell didn't kill him! That's crazy."

  There was something in his voice and in his look that made Madison wonder if he wasn't really telling the truth. She was glad that at least she had some doubt. She would zealously represent her clients no matter what her gut feeling was. That was what was ethically required of her. But the task was much easier when she really did think her client was innocent or at least that innocence was possible. Right now, the thing that bothered her most was the set of circumstances that the police had already compiled against him, especially the eyewitness.

  "Well," Madison said, sitting down at the table and taking out a pad from her briefcase, "we're going to try and get you out of here today, but while we're waiting, I'd like to hear what happened last night, from your per
spective."

  Cody described the entire incident with Board, going back to his and Marty's first meeting in the IRS office.

  "After I left the Green Mesquite," Cody explained, "I went to a little place called Chester's, just off the main drag downtown. I got snookered. I figured they were going to get me this morning for assaulting him. He was yelling for someone to call the police. I was pretty depressed about the whole thing. I knew the whole thing was going to be a hassle."

  "What time did you leave the bar?" Madison asked.

  Cody sat looking at her for a long moment.

  "I know you're going to think I'm crazy or lying to you," he said, "but I can't remember when I left. I remember going there and drinking a lot, but that's it."

  Madison glanced over at Marty. "Cody, I'm going to have to ask you some questions that you probably don't want to hear. It may sound like I'm prying, but I need to ask them. It's my job."

  Madison let that settle in for a minute.

  "So," she said calmly, "do you think you may have an alcohol problem?"

  Cody was stunned. No one had ever really asked him that question.

  "I don't... think so," he replied uncomfortably.

  "Do you black out often?" Madison asked.

  "Only very rarely," Cody replied hesitantly. "When I drink too much, sometimes."

  "Have you done anything violent in the past during these periods?" she asked.

  "No," he said.

  "So, your past violent actions have been when you were sober?" she said sarcastically, unable to help slipping briefly into cross-examination mode.

  Cody looked at Marty. "What the hell is this? Is she supposed to be on my side? What the hell is going on here?"

  Marty looked at Madison.

  "Listen, Cody," Madison explained, "I'm not here to judge or condemn you for anything you've done in the past or the present, but I have to know everything about you. I need to get a feeling right away for what I'm dealing with here, so when I ask for your bail, I know what I'm talking about,- and when 1 talk with the D. A., I also know what I'm dealing with. If I'm coming on a little too hard for you, I'm sorry. You certainly don't have to have me represent you in this if you'd feel more comfortable with someone else."

  Cody's jaw hung. He looked at Marty again. Marty shrugged and shook his head.

  "I don't think he meant that," Marty said. "1 know Cody wants you to represent him, Madison."

  "Well," Madison said, looking directly at Cody, "I think he needs to say that."

  When Madison heard her own words, she realized she'd said them with a little more disdain than she'd intended.

  "What the hell," Cody said, mystified. "I don't know what the hell is going on here. You start pumping me like I'm a criminal, now you're talking about not representing me. Listen, lady, I don't know what your hang-up is, but 1 can tell you this, you're not acting like any lawyer 1 ever knew. If you're the best, then yeah, I want you to represent me. But if you've got some kind of problem with me, 1 think maybe you better think about whether or not you can do the fucking job, because I didn't kill anyone, and I want to get this thing over and behind me as fast as I can."

  Cody and Madison locked eyes. Neither blinked.

  "All right," Madison said, her voice calm once more. She knew she'd been a little out of line in her tone. "All right. I'll try to be sensitive to your feelings. I don't have a problem with you, and you're right, I am the best there is. But you have to tell me everything straight from the start, and if I ask something you don't like, just remember, you'll be hearing the same question over and over again, because you can bet your life that if this goes to trial and you get on that stand, you'll be asked all these questions. Then you can bet the ranch that the person asking you is not on your side."

  All three of them sat for a few moments, digesting everything that had just been said.

  Marty got up. "I'm going to go see how the arraignment is coming."

  When he was gone, Madison said nicely, "So, tell me about the drinking and tell me about the other problems, fights, scuffles, whatever you want to call them."

  "From how long ago?" Cody asked.

  "Let's stick to everything since you came to Austin," Madison said, keeping her voice under control, "what--eight, nine years ago?"

  "Nine," Cody said. Then he began to tell her about his past fights and how much he'd been drinking and why he'd gotten into them and how it was that he'd never gotten a criminal record despite all his run-ins. He'd never even had the need for a criminal lawyer before, a civil lawyer, yes, but the district attorney had never prosecuted him for any of his fights in the past. Madison already knew that Texas was a friendly place to be if you were a football player, so none of what he told her was shocking.

  Next, Madison asked him to tell her about his past alcoholic blackouts. She wondered if the man in front of her might not have killed Board and not remember it. She had seen it before but knew it was best not to talk about. Either way, she was committed to getting him acquitted. He was her client now.

  She continued to question him. She asked him all about Board and what his relationship with him had been. Then she wanted to know about any turf shoes he might have. Yes, he had them, several pairs. In fact they were lying around his house everywhere,- but last night he'd been wearing his cowboy boots. Madison was writing everything down.

  "What else were you wearing?" she asked.

  Cody thought a moment, then said, "Black jeans and a black polo shirt."

  That wasn't good, she thought.

  "Do you own a gun?" Madison said.

  "Yes, a. 357," Cody replied.

  "Board was killed with a twenty-two," she told him, all the while trying to read his face for veracity. 'The police already know you own a three-fifty- seven. Is there another gun?"

  "No, just that one," he said.

  "You're sure, right?" she said. "If this goes to trial, I don't want to have to find out about a .22 you picked up somewhere that slipped your mind."

  Cody shook his head and said, "No, I don't have another gun. I never did.

  "You said 'if this goes to trial.' Do you think that the whole thing might not get that far?" Cody asked hopefully.

  Madison thought for a moment. She didn't want to get his hopes up. On the other hand, he had a right to know what her strategy was going to be.

  "The police got a warrant for your arrest based on what you said at the Green Mesquite, a size-twelve turf shoe footprint at the scene of the crime, and a witness that they say identified you leaving the scene--" "Who the hell is that?" Cody said abruptly. "I don't even know where the guy lives!"

  Cody realized that he had interrupted her. "Sorry," he said.

  "That's all right," Madison said with a wan smile. "I'm not saying there's a high probability that this won't go to trial, but if we can show that the sneaker wasn't yours and you never owned a 22-caliber gun, then the D. A.'s not going to feel that strong about this case. Then the key will be whether or not I can suppress the eyewitness's testimony. I'll get a hearing on that and try to totally discredit him in front of the judge. If it was a bad ID, he's blind, or the police coerced him into identifying you as the man who left the scene, and I can get his testimony suppressed, then the whole arrest is unconstitutional. Without the ID, everything else is circumstantial and there was no probable cause to have you arrested. The police will be humiliated, and barring some other incredibly persuasive evidence, the whole thing will go away."

  "You think that will happen?" Cody said.

  "Cody, I have no way of knowing," Madison said. 'The witness is old, so that's good. But it may mean nothing. If I had to bet right now, I'd say you'd better be prepared for a trial. It's better to be prepared and then unexpectedly surprised."

  "How long will it take?" he asked.

  She shrugged.

  "You have the right by law to a trial within six months. They can screw around with motions and so forth only so long. Usually it's the defense that delays things, to b
uild the case and make the prosecution fight for every piece of evidence along the way."

  "I don't want to wait," Cody said with certainty. "I want this thing over with."

  "That will all depend on what turns up," she said. "If the case against you isn't that strong, if they have no weapon, then I can try to make it happen in six months."

  "Not sooner?" Cody asked.

  "Not unless the D. A. wants it in less, and I can't see why. He'll want to make his case as airtight as he can."

  "By the way," Madison said, "I had the police take your wife home. She seemed very concerned."

  Cody snorted and shook his head.

  "Is there something wrong between the two of you?" Madison asked.

  Cody considered his lawyer and said, "Is that question for you or for my case?"

  Madison turned pink, and then almost red.

  "I can assure you," she said curtly, "that anything I ask you will not have the slightest connection to anything personal with me. Anything I have to say to you will be as your lawyer. Please remember that."

  Cody apologized, "I didn't mean anything. The truth is, there is something wrong between me and my wife. What it is I'm not totally sure of, but things are wrong. I guess they kind of always have been."

  Madison remained silent. Despite Jenny's apparent concern this morning, she had guessed there were problems afoot from the stories about Cody's past fights. He had never indicated that his wife prompted them, but Madison was smart enough to see that Jenny was always at the center of things whenever he'd had a problem in the past.

  "What about playing?" Cody asked. "Can I keep playing?"

  "I don't see why not," Madison said. "As long as I can get bail set, which shouldn't be a problem. I may have a hard time with your traveling to away games. We may have to have a federal marshal accompany you, and the bail might get very high for that. From what Marty tells me, the team needs you, so they should be a help in all this."

  "Could they suspend me?" Cody asked. "I mean the Outlaws, if they wanted to?"

  Madison said, "They can do anything they want, but I can assure you that if they did try to do something like that, we'd serve them with papers by the end of the day and sue their pants off. You are an innocent man. You should remember that through all this. If you're not convicted of this crime, they have no right to suspend you." Cody was beginning to like the way Madison thought. He was damn glad she was going to be working for him, rather than against him.

 

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