Fugitive: A Novel

by Phillip Margolin

  “Karl?”

  Burdett didn’t react. Amanda’s gut tightened. Something was wrong. She said the DA’s name again. Then she saw why Burdett hadn’t answered. He was staring straight ahead, slack-jawed, and there was a blood-rimmed bullet hole in his temple.

  MIKE GREENE’S BLUE eyes were usually clear but were presently bloodshot, because he’d been awakened from a deep sleep. He parked on the street in front of the Tillamook Tavern, then walked around back, where he talked to the first officer on the scene and the forensic experts who were processing it. When he’d seen enough, he went inside the tavern and found Amanda in a booth in the rear of the bar. Sitting across from her was Billie Brewster, a slim black woman with close-cropped hair, dressed in jeans, a black Tupac Shakur memorial T-shirt, and Mercury running shoes. Billie, one of the top homicide detectives in the Portland Police Bureau, had been the investigating officer in several of Amanda’s cases and they had become good friends.

  “This is a pretty extreme way of getting a date, Jaffe,” Mike said as he pulled a chair up to the booth and straddled it.

  “Hey, bozo, your woman’s shook up,” Brewster said, “so can the gallows humor.”

  “How are you doing?” Mike asked, suddenly serious.

  “I’m okay. It’s not like I haven’t seen a dead man before. It was just a shock finding him.” Amanda shook her head. “I never liked Karl. He could be a pompous ass. But I’d never wish anything like this on him. If only I’d gotten here sooner, I might have scared off the person who shot him.”

  “Or gotten yourself killed,” Brewster said.

  “How did you happen to be the one who found him?” Mike asked, and Amanda told him about the phone call.

  “And you have no idea what he wanted to tell you?” Greene asked when she was through.

  “Only that it had something to do with Charlie Marsh.”

  Amanda paused. “There is something.” She hesitated.

  “Yes,” Mike prodded.

  “Burdett has been acting…” She paused again. “I guess ‘weird’ is a good way to describe his behavior.”

  “Weird?” Mike repeated.

  Amanda told Mike and Billie about the bail hearing.

  “I was really surprised when he didn’t fight Charlie’s bail and I couldn’t understand why he seemed upset when he conceded the issue. If he didn’t want Charlie out on bail all he had to do was contest my motion. What with Charlie skipping the country initially and this being a murder case, Karl would have had a good chance of convincing Judge Berkowitz to deny bail altogether.”

  Amanda paused again as she reran Burdett’s actions at the bail hearing through her memory.

  “You know, now that I think about it, Karl behaved more like a subordinate who was carrying out an order he didn’t agree with than the district attorney of the county, the man in charge. And there was the way he acted when he learned that a sniper had taken a shot at Charlie. He was much more upset than I would have thought he’d be.”

  “I’d be very upset if someone tried to commit murder in front of the Multnomah County courthouse,” Mike said.

  “I know. Anyone would. But Karl…I don’t know how to describe it. I just had the feeling that there was more to his reaction than simple anger or sympathy for Charlie.”

  Amanda closed her eyes and sighed. “I’m beat, Mike. If you and Billie don’t need me I’d like to go home.”

  “I took her statement,” Brewster told Mike as she stood up. “And I know where to find you if I need anything else,” she said to Amanda, “so I’ll leave you lovebirds alone.”

  “Do you want me to stay over?” Mike asked as soon as the detective was out of earshot.

  “Yeah, that would be nice. I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  “Okay, let me check with the ME. Then we can head out.”

  AMANDA PEELED OFF her clothes as soon as she was in her condo. Then she flossed and brushed her teeth as quickly as possible before staggering into bed. Mike tucked her in and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The prosecutor made a few calls in the living room to check on the progress of the investigation before going back to the bedroom. Mike and Amanda had grown close during the past year and he smiled as he watched her sleep. Then his exhaustion caught up to him and he crawled into bed beside her, falling asleep soon after he closed his eyes.

  Shortly after three in the morning, Amanda’s subconscious set off an alarm that jerked her awake. Karl Burdett had said something during his call that Amanda had forgotten to tell Billie Brewster and Mike Greene and she suddenly remembered what it was. She was tempted to wake Mike but he was sleeping so soundly that she crept out of bed, not wanting to disturb him. Her cell phone was in her purse on the kitchen counter along with the card Daniel Cordova had given her. Amanda walked as far from the bedroom as she could and used the light from the phone to read the number on the card.

  “Agent Cordova, this is Amanda Jaffe,” she said as soon as the FBI agent answered the phone. “Have you heard what happened tonight?”

  “Happened to what?” Cordova answered. He sounded groggy and annoyed, which didn’t surprise Amanda.

  “Karl Burdett was shot to death.”

  “Dear God!” Cordova said, instantly awake.

  “I was working late. Karl called me. He was very upset and he sounded like he’d been drinking. He said he was in over his head. He also said that he hadn’t realized that he was in over his head until he talked to you. Can you think of something you said to Karl that frightened him?”

  “No.” Cordova sounded puzzled. “I did talk to him but it was a courtesy call.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We arrested Gary Hass in Sacramento. He was part of the muscle for a large heroin sale and we swept him up when we made the collar. It turns out he was in California when the sniper shot at your client. I called so Burdett wouldn’t waste time on a dead end.”

  “And that’s all you talked about?”

  “Yes. It was a short conversation.”

  Amanda talked to the agent for a few more minutes, then she hung up. It wasn’t obvious at first why Cordova’s information about Hass had shaken up Karl Burdett but the germ of an idea was beginning to form.

  MIKE GREENE BEGAN to get suspicious when the aroma of freshly brewed coffee woke him from a sound sleep. His suspicions grew when he wandered into the dining area of Amanda’s loft and found a glass of orange juice waiting at a table setting. A full-blown alarm sounded when Amanda asked him what kind of omelet he wanted for breakfast.

  Amanda wasn’t a terrible cook but Mike knew she didn’t like to spend time in the kitchen. When he stayed over, they usually ate out or he fixed breakfast. If she was up early cooking for him, Mike was certain it meant she wanted something he wouldn’t want to give her.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Can’t I make you a nice breakfast without you getting suspicious?”

  Mike folded his arms across his broad chest and stared at Amanda until she blushed.

  “Okay, I do have an ulterior motive, but I also wanted to thank you for being so nice to me last night.”

  “Taking care of you was my pleasure. Now, please drop the other shoe.”

  Amanda plopped down across from Mike. She looked sexy with her hair mussed, dressed only in a T-shirt and panties.

  “You know Karl’s murder is connected to the Marsh case, right?”

  “That’s a possibility. But it could be a random killing,” Mike said.

  “Was Karl robbed?”

  “He had his wallet, rings, and an expensive watch, but you could have scared off the killer when you drove into the lot. The killing could still be coincidental.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” Amanda asked.

  “I don’t know what to believe. It’s too early in the investigation to draw any conclusions.”

  “You should get Karl’s files in Sally Pope’s and Charlie’s case. There may be notations in
them that will explain why he called me.”

  “I was intending to do just that.”

  “Why don’t you let me see them so I can point out things you might not realize are important.”

  Mike looked shocked. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m dead serious.”

  “Is there some reason you want me fired and disbarred?”

  “What do you know about Charlie’s case?” Amanda asked.

  “Not much. I know it was a big deal up here, and I remember reading about it when I was living in California.”

  “I’ve been living this case almost nonstop and my Dad tried Pope. I can spot things in the file you might miss.”

  “Amanda, you may be shocked to learn that I’ve actually gotten up to speed on other people’s cases before. And I’ve done it without violating the rules of professional conduct. Do you understand what would happen if anyone discovered that I let you read the files of the attorney who was prosecuting your client? And I wouldn’t be the only person in trouble. You’d be riding the elevator to hell with me.”

  Amanda smiled coquettishly. “That’s so literary.”

  “Don’t try your womanly wiles on me. Flattery, the batting of eyelashes, and come-hither stares are not going to work. This is too serious.”

  Amanda stopped smiling. “Now you’ve got it, Mike. This is damned serious. Someone’s tried to murder Charlie twice and they succeeded in killing Sally Pope, her personal assistant, and her dog. Now they’ve killed the DA prosecuting Charlie’s case. You need all the help you can get and I’m willing to risk my career to get the bastard who’s doing this. If I help nail him, I don’t care what rules of professional conduct I violate.”

  CHAPTER 42

  Derrick Barclay had not changed much over the years, Frank thought, as Arnold Pope’s personal assistant ushered him into a sitting room at the rear of Pope’s mansion.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll tell Mr. Pope you’re here,” Barclay said before shutting the door. The curtains were drawn and the subdued lighting from a small ceiling fixture gave the room a closed-in, musty feel. Most of the furnishings were antiques and Frank would not have been surprised to learn that white sheets had covered them until shortly before his visit. He also thought that he should probably not be here, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. When Barclay invited him to meet with his employer, Frank had been surprised and suspicious. Barclay claimed to know only that the meeting concerned Kevin Pope and Pope’s lawyer in the custody matter would not be present. When Frank told Barclay that it was improper for him to meet with a represented party without the party’s lawyer, Barclay said that Mr. Pope had prepared a notarized waiver in anticipation of Frank’s objection. Frank had thought that over, then agreed to come. Now he wondered if he would regret his decision.

  Frank waited for his host in a comfortable armchair across from a small marble fireplace. After a while, he glanced at his watch and realized that only five minutes had passed. There was a narrow, floor-to-ceiling bookshelf next to the fireplace. Frank was about to inspect Pope’s library when the door opened and Pope hobbled in.

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Jaffe.”

  Frank noted the tremor in the older man’s voice and the difficulty he had navigating across the room to the armchair opposite Frank. When he lowered himself onto the chair, he grimaced.

  “Why am I here, Mr. Pope?”

  Senior stared at Frank, irritated that his guest had taken control by skipping the usual pleasantries that preceded a business meeting.

  “I see you like to get right to the point.”

  “Which is?”

  “You are ideally situated to perform a service for me, which will bring me great satisfaction and will bring you a substantial reward.”

  “Go on.”

  “I understand you’re representing Liam O’Connell in the guardianship contest.”

  Frank nodded. Pope shook his head slowly.

  “What a sad affair. Poor Sally. We definitely had our differences, some quite vehement, but she was a fighter and I admired her spunk. She probably didn’t know that.”

  Frank didn’t respond. If Pope was trying to convince him that he was sorry that Sally was dead, he was failing. Frank knew how Pope really felt about his daughter-in-law and no phony show of sympathy was going to change his mind.

  “I regret very much that Sally saw fit to cut herself off from me after my son’s tragic death,” Pope continued.

  “If I remember correctly, Mr. Pope, you had something to do with that.”

  “You’re completely correct, Mr. Jaffe. My son’s death was a crushing experience. I was not rational at times after he passed and my grief interfered with my judgment. When Sally was indicted for Arnold’s death I focused my hatred on her and I saw the dismissal of the charges against her as a personal affront.

  “After the dismissal—after I had gotten my emotions in check—I hired a team of investigators to review the case. They concluded that there was a strong possibility that Sally had been unjustly accused.”

  Frank noted that Pope had conveniently managed to forget his involvement in the false accusations and the manufactured evidence that had led to Sally’s indictment. He was tempted to remind him about the photographs and the note that had lured his son to his death, as well as the strong evidence that Otto Jarvis had been bribed to lie at Sally’s trial, but he decided to hold his tongue.

  “I made numerous attempts over the years to apologize and I made many offers to renew our friendship, all of which, to my sorrow, she rebuffed.” Pope lowered his eyes and made a show of contrition. “I can’t say I blame her.”

  “Where is all of this breast-beating leading, Mr. Pope?”

  A flash of anger was Frank’s reward for his blunt question, but Pope mastered his emotions quickly.

  “I am very concerned about my grandson. Sally kept us apart as punishment for the way I treated her, but I love Arnie very much…”

  “Sally’s son is named Kevin,” Frank interrupted, eliciting another flash of anger from Pope.

  “Yes, Mr. Jaffe. His legal name is Kevin. My son wanted to name him Arnold Pope III but Sally named him Kevin to spite me. I bear her no grudge for that but he will always be Arnie to me.”

  “You were getting to the point of our meeting,” Frank prodded.

  “Sally designated Liam O’Connell as Kevin’s guardian in her will, but he has no right to be the boy’s guardian. He and Sally never married, he’s not kin.”

  “Kevin looks up to Mr. O’Connell and he’s very fond of Kevin. From what I’ve seen, Mrs. Pope made a good choice.”

  “Kevin may be fond of this Irishman, but he has my blood in his veins.”

  “If I remember correctly, you and I discussed the possibility of you becoming Kevin’s guardian shortly after Mrs. Pope’s trial. Have you forgotten why your attorney advised you to drop your plans for a custody battle?”

  Senior flashed a malevolent smile. “You mean your contention that I bribed Otto Jarvis and had something to do with that Rodriguez person, who took the pictures of Sally and her convict friend? Maybe you haven’t heard, but Otto Jarvis passed away, a heart attack, I believe. And Mr. Rodriguez was shot to death in an alley. Something to do with a drug deal gone bad. So you would no longer be able to produce witnesses to support your allegations. But why bring up Sally’s trial? It’s old news.”

  “I still don’t understand why I’m here.”

  “You’re representing Mr. O’Connell, so you are in an excellent position to influence him. I want to adopt Kevin. He would be my heir. Surely you see the advantage to the boy in that. I want you to convince your client to turn down the guardianship and support my claim to be the boy’s adoptive father.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “I have occasional need for an attorney with your talents, Mr. Jaffe. Obviously, I couldn’t retain you or your firm while you’re representing Mr. O’Connell in this matter, because of the conflict
of interest that would create. However, if this business is concluded swiftly and favorably, the conflict would cease and I would be able to put your firm on a very healthy retainer.”

  Frank stared directly at Senior. Senior didn’t blink.

  “You don’t see anything wrong in the offer you just made?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Some people might interpret it as a bribe.”

  “Nonsense. It’s to my advantage to have the very best legal talent at my disposal.”

  Frank smiled. “I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Pope, but I’m going to turn you down.”

  “That might not be wise. If you don’t assist me I may have to contact the bar with some disturbing information I’ve had in my possession for some time. I would be very upset if I was unable to retain you because you were no longer permitted to practice law.”

  All of Frank’s tolerance for Pope’s clumsy attempt to corrupt him disappeared instantly, and Frank fixed his host with an icy stare.

  “Why wouldn’t I be able to practice law, Mr. Pope?”

  Senior pulled a photograph of Frank and Sally Pope going into her home at night out of his inside jacket pocket.

  “The bar frowns on affairs between a lawyer and his client. I have numerous pictures of you and Arnie’s wife together during and after her trial and investigators who will swear before a disciplinary panel that you left my daughter-in-law’s house in the small hours of the morning on many occasions.”

  Frank stood up. “You’re going to have a hard time convincing the bar that I wasn’t conferring with Mrs. Pope about her legal affairs, but do your worst. I’ve never sold out a client and this definitely will not be the case where I start.”