Fuller pulled her head back a fraction of an inch. “Of course,” she said coldly. Fuller turned on the recorder and recited the names of those in attendance, the location, and the time and date. “Ms. Toklas, you told us on the phone last Saturday, April eighth that you would have your client available for an interview at one o’clock, Monday, April tenth. It’s one o’clock now.”
Diane made a production of looking at her watch. “So it is. My client has been unavoidably detained. Perhaps I can answer some questions before she arrives. What did you want to ask her?”
Fuller and Marsalis both pulled out notebooks. Fuller said, “Michelle Babcock met with Carlos McCrary on Monday morning, March 27 at approximately seven a.m., in the Day and Night Diner.”
Diane looked at Fuller, expressionless.
Fuller asked, “Well?”
Diane waited before answering. “Well what? I haven’t heard a question.”
Fuller’s face turned pink. “Did that meeting take place?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re confirming that Michelle Babcock did meet with Carlos McCrary?”
“Agent Fuller, even though I charge my client by the hour, let’s not waste my time or her money. If you intend to repeat every question and ask me to answer twice, this meeting will take much longer than necessary. Do you have any more questions?”
Fuller’s face turned redder. “What was the substance of that meeting?”
“That’s privileged.”
Fuller turned to me. “Mr. McCrary, are you Michelle Babcock’s attorney?”
“I’m not anybody’s attorney. I’m a private investigator.”
Fuller smirked. “Then your conversation with Ms. Babcock is not privileged.”
Diane raised a hand. “Agent Fuller, please address your questions, comments—or legal opinions—to me. If I want Mr. McCrary to respond, I will tell him so. But, for the record, my firm retained Mr. McCrary’s firm to help us with our representation of Ms. Babcock. Therefore, his conversations with Ms. Babcock are in his capacity as our agent and are covered by our attorney-client privilege.”
Marsalis had scribbled in his notebook the whole time. He stopped and looked to Fuller.
Fuller’s lips compressed into a straight line. “When did Ms. Babcock retain your law firm?”
Diane glanced at me before she answered. “At five a.m. Monday, March 27.”
“Ms. Toklas, were you at that meeting at the Day and Night Diner?”
“The substance of that meeting, including the people in attendance, is privileged.”
The intercom dinged. “Ms. Toklas, Ms. Babcock and Mr. Snopolski are here.”
Diane spoke to the intercom. “Bring them in here, please.” She turned back to Agent Fuller. “We’ll wait.”
Agent Marsalis spent the uncomfortable silence staring out the window and sipping his coffee. Agent Fuller spent the time glaring at the blonde attorney.
Diane refilled her cup. “You want more, Chuck?”
“Thanks.”
She poured and then looked to Agent Fuller. “More coffee, Agents?”
Fuller shook her head. Marsalis answered, “I’m good.”
The door opened and Snoop walked in, followed by Michelle. I said, “Sit here, Michelle.” I gestured to the chair between Diane and me. I wanted Michelle to feel sheltered between two allies.
Snoop sat at the other end, opposite Diane. “Sorry we’re late, Diane.”
Diane waved a hand dismissively. “You’re here now.” She turned to Michelle. “Ms. Babcock, these are Special Agents Fuller and Marsalis from the FBI. They are recording this meeting. So am I.” She gestured at the two recorders. “It is a federal crime to lie to federal agents, even when not under oath, so I want you to answer truthfully. Agent Fuller—and possibly Agent Marsalis—have questions to ask you. You are not to answer any question until I tell you it is okay to answer. Are we clear on that?”
Michelle’s eyes were wide as saucers. She twirled her braid in her left hand. She nodded.
Fuller sat up straighter. “For the benefit of the recording, Michelle Babcock and Raymond Snopolski just joined the meeting. Michelle—may I call you Michelle?”
Michelle cut her eyes to Diane, who nodded.
“Yeah, sure.” She twirled her braid some more.
“Michelle, we are recording this meeting as Ms. Toklas told you, but I am required to tell you also.”
Michelle said, “Okay.”
“Michelle, did you meet with Carlos McCrary at the Day and Night Diner the morning of Monday, March 27th?”
Diane raised a hand. “Agent Fuller, that question has been asked and answered. Please move on.”
“Ms. Toklas, this is not a courtroom. I would like to hear Michelle’s answer.”
Diane considered that. “No. Any other questions for Ms. Babcock?”
If I had special glasses, I could have seen the lightning flash from Fuller’s eyes. She pulled her jacket down straighter and cleared her throat. “Do you know James Ponder?”
Michelle looked to Diane before she answered. “Yes.”
“What is the nature of your relationship?”
Diane said, “Don’t answer that.” She turned to Fuller. “That’s too ambiguous to answer factually. Please be more specific, perhaps asking a question that can be answered yes or no.”
Fuller tried again. “How long have you known James Ponder?”
Diane nodded her permission to Michelle, who twirled her braid and looked at the ceiling. She bit her lower lip. “Since last Halloween.”
“Do you consider Mr. Ponder a friend?”
Diane said, “You can answer.”
“Yes.”
“Are you romantically involved?” Fuller asked.
Michelle asked Diane, “What does that mean?”
Diane smiled. “Are you dating James Ponder?”
“Yes.”
Fuller asked, “Have you been intimate?”
Diane raised a hand. “Don’t answer that.” She said to Fuller, “I fail to see the relevance of that question; she told you that Ponder is a friend and that they are dating. You may draw your own conclusions from that.”
Fuller cleared her throat. “Do you know Steven Wallace?”
Diane said, “You can answer.”
“Yes.”
“And how long have you known Mr. Wallace?”
“It’s Doctor Wallace, and I’ve known him since, uh, since this semester began. The second week in January, I think?”
“Do you take any classes from Doctor Wallace?”
“Yes, Introduction to Environmental Science.”
“What about Katharine Shamanski?”
Diane put her arm in front of Michelle. “What about her?”
“Do you know Ms. Shamanski?”
Diane lowered her arm and nodded to her client.
“Yes,” said Michelle.
“How long have you known Ms. Shamanski?”
“Since I started at UAC last August. We’re—”
Diane touched Michelle’s arm. “Just answer the question. You don’t have to say any more than that.”
Michelle frowned. “Sorry.”
Diane patted her on the arm. “That’s all right, dear.” Diane was maybe ten years older than Michelle. I smiled at the maternal “dear.”
Fuller asked voluminous questions covering Michelle’s interactions, on and off campus, with Ponder, Wallace, and Shamanski. Diane intervened several times to keep the questions specific and to cut off Michelle when she started to volunteer information. The meeting dragged on for another hour and Diane’s secretary brought in another carafe of coffee and several bottles of water.
After what Fuller euphemistically called a “comfort break,” Fuller resumed the interview. “Michelle, where were you the night of Monday, March 27?”
“At James Ponder’s house.”
“Did you have a date with Mr. Ponder?”
“Nah, we were just, you know, hanging out.”
“What time did you leave Mr. Ponder’s house?”
Diane said, “That’s enough, agents. This is a fishing expedition. You won’t tell me what you’re investigating or who, and that’s your right. My client has the right not to have her personal life paraded for strangers. You’ve been at this for two hours and, to my way of thinking, have not elicited any information you could not have found from other sources. I’m not going to allow any more questions. This meeting is over.”
Chapter 44
Diane left the conference with the FBI agents. I waited until she closed the door behind her. “Okay, Snoop, why were you late?”
Snoop blew air out between his lips. “It’s my fault. Three guys in a black Suburban followed my car to the Mango Island ferry terminal. I didn’t spot them until they turned into the ferry parking lot after I did. Otherwise, I would have kept driving toward the beach until I lost them. Now they know that Michelle is staying on Mango Island.”
“No sense crying over spilt milk. But the white Ford sedan that’s been shadowing me followed me here. I thought that the white Ford was the three stooges, but if the stooges were following you and Michelle, then they must have sent for reinforcements. There must be a second team following me. Tell me what happened.”
Snoop squeezed his coffee cup with both hands. “They waited in the parking lot trying to blend in with a bunch of employee cars while I ferried across to fetch Michelle. They followed us onto Beachline Causeway. I slowed at the Azalea Island traffic light to lose them. You know the place.”
Snoop lifted his cup but didn’t drink. He grabbed the carafe for a refill. “I keep this up and I’m gonna need another one of Agent Fuller’s ‘comfort breaks.’ The evildoers ran the red light when I tried to lose them.”
“Was it the three stooges?”
“Probably, but I couldn’t swear to it. I saw two gunmen with AK-47s. I recognized the barrels, of course.”
“They must have seen your license plate when you blocked their first Ford on South River Drive. They ran your plate to find out where you live. Oh shit. The white Ford is a second team. If they were surveilling you on Saturday, they followed your car from my apartment to the mall. Even after I lost the three stooges in the mall, the second team saw me get in your car. They would have followed me to the Mango Island Ferry. They already knew that Mango Island was involved in this somehow. Did you get the license number of the SUV that ambushed you?”
“No, I never saw the back bumper. But they abandoned their vehicle anyway.”
“Oh?”
Snoop smiled. “They pulled into the left lane and came up to hit us with AK-47s. I ran them into a traffic barricade at Poinciana Island.” He held his hands like a steering wheel and jerked them to his left.
“You and Michelle okay?”
“Yeah, but they shot out my windows and put bullet holes in a door and fender,” Snoop said. “You owe me some serious body work on the Toyota. And, of course, Janet will be furious with me.” Janet is Snoop’s wife.
“I’m glad that nobody was hurt.” I looked at Michelle. “You okay?”
She started twirling her braid again.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “This must have been frightening for you.”
Michelle’s lip began to tremble. She stopped twirling the braid and put both hands to her face. She sobbed and rocked back and forth.
I put my arm around her and waited while she cried it out. Finally, she said in a small voice, “I peed my pants when those men shot at us. They’re navy blue and no one noticed, but it feels really icky.”
“That I can fix.” I punched the intercom.
“Yes, Mr. McCrary. This is Janine, Ms. Toklas’s assistant.”
“Janine, Ms. Babcock needs assistance in the conference room. Can you come here?”
In a few seconds the door opened and Diane walked in. “I sent the agents on their way.” She looked at Michelle. “Janine said you need assistance?”
“Michelle needs a new pair of pants and underwear,” I said. “Here’s my credit card. Please find out what size and style she wants and send someone to the hotel shop next door to buy them, if you don’t mind. And buy her a gray non-descript hoodie and big dark sunglasses. I’m going to disguise her when she leaves here.”
Michelle stood up. “I can do that.”
I made a stop motion. “Sorry, Michelle, it’s too dangerous. That’s why you need the disguise. You’re not the only one who was followed. A car full of men followed me here from my condo. They’ll be waiting out there for me when I leave. Even if the men who tried to kill you earlier are out of the way now, there are other people looking for you. You need to stick close to me, okay?” I smiled, comfortingly I hoped.
Diane took the credit card and huddled with Michelle for a minute. They both giggled. Diane used the intercom to summon Janine and sent her away with the credit card. Michelle remained standing at the window. No more sitting in her icky pants. She twirled her braid as she stared out the window.
I turned back to Snoop. “Tell Diane what you told me.”
When he finished, I said, “The rented Ford followed me here from my condo. I couldn’t see how many were in it because they stayed too far back. It’s safer to assume they have three or more in the new Ford.” I stood and paced. “Traffic cameras will have filmed both intersections on the Beachline Causeway. You need to get to the PCPD to report the incident, before they come looking for you. Your car drivable?”
“Surprisingly, yes. The damage is to the back half, and they missed the tires and gas tank. I parked in the garage downstairs.”
“I want to be with you when you give your statement to the cops, but I can’t leave Michelle unprotected. And I won’t expose her any more than necessary.” I turned to Diane. “Can we ask the cops to come here?”
“Sure. Use this conference room. I don’t have to be here for that. Michelle, let’s go to my office.”
Chapter 45
Kelly and Bigs Bigelow arrived within the hour. Kelly, the senior detective of the pair, entered first. “I smelled coffee in the hall on the way here. I’m dying here, big guy. Can I have a cup?” She shook my hand.
I grinned at her. “I’ll see what I can do.” I glanced over Kelly’s shoulder at Janine, standing in the hallway, and raised my eyebrows.
Janine had heard the conversation. “I’ll bring coffee for four. Or will Ms. Toklas be rejoining you?”
“Just us four, Janine. Thanks.”
Bigs was right behind Kelly. He could barely fit through the conference room door. A former NFL defensive lineman, Bigs became a Port City police detective after he retired from a Hall-of-Fame career with the Port City Pelicans of the AFC. “Hey, Chuck, it’s good seeing you.” His massive hand made mine look like a child’s.
“Bigs, thanks for coming.” I gestured at the conference table. “Let’s sit down.”
Snoop related the essential details of the attack, leaving out any mention of Michelle being in the car. He paused when Janine returned with the same Chinese tray I’d seen earlier. Either that or its twin.
During the pause, Kelly opened a laptop and accessed the traffic camera footage. After Janine left, Snoop continued his statement. Kelly and Bigs asked questions to clarify a few points. Kelly said, “After these guys tried to kill you, Snoop, they carjacked a Lexus stopped at the Poinciana Island traffic light where the perps totaled their vehicle. They pistol-whipped the driver, an old man, and put him in the hospital. He’ll live. They escaped in his Lexus eastbound on the Beachline. We’re combing the streets of Port City Beach right now.”
“Oh, geez,” Snoop said.
“Why did they want to kill you, Snoop?”
Snoop spread his hands. “It’s in connection with a case we’re working that I can’t tell you about.”
Bigs smacked the table with a hand the size of a catcher’s mitt. The floor shook. “Cut the crap, Snoop. There was a carjacking and automatic rifle fire. An old man is in the hospital, and
he could have been killed. More innocent people could have been hurt by the gunfire. You both were cops, for crissakes. Remember ‘serve and protect?’ What the hell’s going on?”
“Kelly,” I interrupted, “these may be the same three guys I asked you to run the background checks on a few days ago. They’ve followed me ever since.”
“Did your traffic cams catch the carjackers’ faces?” Snoop asked.
“Let me check.” She tapped a few keys and turned the screen to face Snoop. “Just hit the play button there on the top.”
Snoop watched the video. He turned the computer back toward Kelly. “That’s the three guys that Chuck and I call the three stooges. They’re the ones who followed Chuck originally.”
Kelly gave me a hard look. “I think it’s time you tell us what’s going on.”
“They think I’ll lead them to a client whom I’m protecting,” I said.
“You won’t tell me who the client is, so I won’t ask.” Kelly turned to Bigs. “Let’s see the feed from the Azalea Island camera again.” They studied the screen for a few moments, ran the video forward and backward. “Snoop, there’s someone in the front seat with you in the Azalea Island footage. And they’re not there in the footage from the Poinciana Island camera.”
“I told… the person to hide on the floor when I saw the gun barrels stick through the windows,” Snoop said.
“Looks like a woman, Snoop. Is that the client you’re protecting?” she asked.
Snoop didn’t say anything.
Kelly slapped the table top with both hands. “That’s it. We can’t do this anymore, Chuck. Jorge said to cut you some slack, to look the other way a little. But I’m sure none of us anticipated that would include ignoring automatic gunfire on a crowded street or carjacking and pistol-whipping an old man. You asked me to trust you when you first tangled with these three, and I did since no one got hurt. But you don’t trust Bigs and me enough to tell us the whole truth. Trust is a two-way street, amigo. You either tell us what’s happening right now, or I call Jorge and tell him we’re off the case.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms.
Dangerous Friends (A Carlos McCrary novel Book 4) Page 18