Murder in the Supreme Court (Capital Crimes Series Book 3)

by Margaret Truman

  Teller nodded slowly. “How did Clarence get the information?”

  “From his father’s psychiatric files. Brazier had been his father’s patient while he was in Washington.”

  “Go on.”

  “I found out from Brazier’s girl friend, Sheryl Figgs, that he’d been working on a book exposing the CIA’s mind-control experiments. Evidently he’d been institutionalized as Sutherland’s patient in a place called Sunken Springs, in Delaware. I can’t prove this right now, Martin, but I know that—”

  “That Dr. Sutherland was connected with the CIA experiments?”

  “Yes… how did you know?”

  “We’ve been working on Dr. Sutherland, some things broke while you were away.”

  “What? You’ve nailed down Sutherland’s role with the CIA?”

  “Yeah… I’ll tell you something else. Chief Justice Poulson was probably in that same Sunken Springs funny farm. At first Sunken Springs meant nothing to me. We were supposed to believe that Poulson had spent some time there writing a book. We did a little checking. Besides a drugstore, meat market, shopping center and a movie theater open on the weekends, Sunken Springs has a very private and protected facility where the rich and famous can get their heads together when they start to come unglued. And rumor has it that the CIA uses the place as a halfway house, a retreat for spooks who’ve come in from the cold and need a rest, not to mention it’s a research clinic for CIA experiments. I just got the report in late this afternoon. According to it there’s a—”

  “Are you sure Justice Poulson was there? Was he a patient?”

  “It’s a pretty reasonable assumption, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Then busy busy Clarence would have had that to hold over his head. If it had come out that Poulson had been institutionalized, he never would have been confirmed as Chief Justice. Or kept the job if it came out afterward. Did the White House know?”

  Teller shrugged. “If I were writing this script, I’d have them knowing it… Clarence Sutherland was offered a job on President Jorgens’s staff.”

  “He was? Wow…”

  Teller got up and walked to the wall chart, untaped the brown paper and stepped back.

  “What’s that?” Susanna asked.

  “My wall chart, obviously. Cost a hundred bucks. It’s sort of comforting to me. Makes me feel less confused than I really am. Now… you may ask why would Clarence be offered a job in the White House…”

  “Not to be a wise guy, Mr. Detective, but I think it’s now fairly clear. Clarence used his knowledge of Poulson’s institutionalization to pressure the President and his men to give him a job. Poulson was and is Jorgens’s man.”

  “Right, but maybe there’s more. If Clarence had the goods… you should forgive the expression… on Childs, he could have used that to swing weight inside the Court on the President’s behalf. I mean with Childs.”

  She nodded.

  “He was a nasty little bastard, wasn’t he?” Teller said.

  “Worse… what else have you learned since I was away?”

  “That’s about it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. Now let’s get organized.”

  She joined him in front of the chart. “There they are,” he said, “the suspects all laid out. Time to refine it.”

  “Who are you ruling out?”

  He folded his arms and squinted. “Let’s see. Laurie Rawls. Aside from her anger at Clarence for his fooling around, is there any other reason to suspect her?”

  “That might be good enough reason to keep her on the list.”

  “It might be, but I really think we should focus in. There’s too many players with a maybe motive. I vote for taking her out of the game.”

  “All right.”

  He moved her magnetized nameplate from the board. “Who else?”

  “Dr. Sutherland?”

  “Why?”

  “He was Clarence’s father. Do fathers kill sons in cold blood? It happens in fits of anger or passion, but this killing was premeditated.”

  Teller nodded. “Except what if the son were blackmailing his own father over involvement in CIA drug experiments on people who didn’t know how they were being used, some of whom died from the experiments? We went back through the files the CIA released, the MKULTRA files. The people in that business come up with some real screwy names for their little projects… Artichoke, Bluebird… grown men playing cloak-and-dagger games… Anyway, I don’t figure papa shrink doing it, though with a son like Clarence he might have done himself in out of guilt for what he perpetrated on the world. I vote for taking him from the board.”

  “All right. It’s your board.”

  “Don’t be a wise guy.” But he smiled when he said it, and removed Sutherland’s name. “Next?”

  “Justice Conover?”

  “You heard?”

  “About his stroke? Yes. How is he?”

  “Last word he was still in a coma.”

  “Poor man.”

  “Yeah. I interviewed Cecily Conover again. ‘Poor man’ is right.”

  “If Cecily were the victim I’d have to vote him to the top of the list.”

  “Is he coming down from the board?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Yes…”

  “Done.” Conover’s name joined Sutherland’s and Laurie Rawls’s on the desk.

  “Cecily Conover?”

  “As much as I’d like to see her numero uno I don’t think so. That lady, and I use the term loosely in her case, really covers her tail. She’d get someone else to do it.”

  Susanna reached out and took Mrs. Sutherland’s and Clarence’s sister’s names down. “Any argument?” she asked. “I’d say they’re more to be pitied for having been related to Clarence. Especially Mrs. Sutherland.”

  “I agree.”

  “What about the ‘friends’ category?” Susanna said.

  “Off with ’em.”

  Susanna started to remove Vera Jones’s name from the board.

  “Hold on.”

  “Why? From what we have on her she’s not in the running.” When he didn’t respond she asked, “Are you holding out on me about her, Martin?”

  “You know what I like about you, Susanna, along with a few other things?”

  “What?”

  “That you call me Martin. With most people it’s plain Marty. Like the poor character in Paddy Chayefsky’s play. You and my mother… Martin… except she did it when she was sore at me.”

  Susanna laughed and told him to stop being so adorable or she’d have to break off business and take him to her apartment.

  “Sorry,” he said. “And adorable nobody ever called me.”

  He told her about meeting up with Vera Jones at Club Julie, and about what the bartender said.

  “But that would only put her in the same category as Laurie Rawls. Another woman spurned. Is that enough?”

  He shook his head. “No, she has more going for her than that. She’s been with Sutherland for years, must know all about a lot, including his CIA games. I’d like to leave her on the list… and I think we have to add a few.”

  “I thought we were trying to make the list smaller.”

  “We are, but that doesn’t mean ignoring live ones.”

  “Who do you want to add?”

  He muttered something under his breath.

  “What?”

  “How would you categorize the White House and the CIA on the board?”

  “The White House?”

  “If Jorgens appointed Poulson Chief Justice knowing he’d been in a mental institution, well… that speaks for itself. And if Jorgens has been exerting improper influence on Supreme Court business through what is in effect blackmail, courtesy of Clarence’s access to his old man’s files, that makes the President of the United States an accomplice to blackmail, to say nothing of violating the concept of separation of powers—”

  “I’m not sure I can deal with it—”<
br />
  “We have to… and the same with the CIA. If Clarence knew about the drug experiment programs and was holding that kind of information out for grabs, the friendly folks at our Central Intelligence Agency wouldn’t mind seeing him… removed. Maybe they call it neutralized, or terminated, but it all spells death.” He sat behind his desk, took out two strips of paper, uncapped his marking pen. “Do we lump them together under Government or do we make separate plates for CIA and WH. White House. I wouldn’t want to spell it out on the board. Might get people shook up if they looked under the brown paper.”

  “Make them separate, CIA and WH.”

  He did and put them on the board. “There, how’s it look?”

  They stood back and took another look at the revised chart before he covered it.

  DECEASED

  POULSON—blackmail

  CHILDS—blackmail

  VERA JONES—personal, and access to same knowledge as deceased

  CIA—secrets compromised

  WH—blackmail

  Teller walked her to her car.

  “Want to come back to the apartment?” she asked.

  “I’d like to, but I’m not going to.”

  “Why?” She touched his cheek.

  “Tired, stuff on my mind. My youngest kid is pregnant. She dropped out of school.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Martin.”

  “Yeah, well, like they say, life is what happens while you’re making other plans. Give me a rain check, okay?”

  “You got it. Good night.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. He pulled her close and pressed his mouth hard against hers. When they came apart, and she was about to open the door to her car, he said, “How about going out to see Dr. Sutherland and Vera Jones tomorrow?”

  “Good idea. Confront them. It worked pretty good for me with Dan Brazier. What time?”

  “I’ll call them in the morning.” He shrugged. “It is morning.”

  “Just let me know when, Martin. And get some sleep.”

  CHAPTER 31

  It was two days before Teller and Susanna were able to see Dr. Chester Sutherland and Vera Jones. If Teller hadn’t pressed hard during his third call to Vera it probably would have taken even longer.

  Vera escorted them now into Sutherland’s inner office and turned to leave.

  “I’d like to have both of you here,” Teller said.

  “I have work to do—”

  “So do we, Miss Jones.”

  Vera looked at Sutherland, who nodded, then sat down in a straight-backed cane chair, hands folded on her knees, eyes straight ahead, her pale, cameo face empty of expression. She wore a brown tweed skirt that flared wide below the knees. A beige cashmere sweater with a large, thick collar seemed to prop her head up above her shoulders. Her hair was drawn back into a severe chignon. She wore no makeup.

  “Well, Mr. Teller, how are you progressing in the investigation?” Sutherland asked. He sounded pretty damn detached, Teller thought, considering that the investigation happened to involve his murdered son.

  “Pretty good, doctor. Matter of fact, the last few days have given us some important new information.” He glanced at Vera, whose face grew even stonier.

  Even Sutherland reacted. He sat forward on his couch and asked, “What sort of information, Detective Teller?”

  “We’d like to ask you and Miss Jones some questions.”

  Sutherland smiled. “Go ahead and ask. I’ve tried to be completely candid with you, as I’m sure Miss Jones has.”

  When Teller didn’t immediately follow up with a question, Susanna, remembering her experience with Dan Brazier, said flatly, “We know, Dr. Sutherland, about your involvement with the CIA’s experimentation programs, and that Clarence also knew about it and let you know that he knew…”

  Sutherland, who’d relaxed into the couch’s cushions, uncrossed his legs and said without looking up, “That’s nonsense, Miss Pinscher, and you know it.”

  “It’s fact,” Teller said. “But there’s more than that, Dr. Sutherland. We know that Chief Justice Poulson was a patient of yours, and that you institutionalized him in Sunken Springs, Delaware—”

  “Now, look here… I resent this intrusion into a confidential area.” Sutherland stood up abruptly.

  Susanna put in quickly, “Dan Brazier was also a patient, Dr. Sutherland, and Clarence learned the truth about Justice Childs’s Korean War record through those files—”

  “Damn it,” Sutherland said, crossing the room.

  “Take it easy,” Teller told him. “How these things relate to your son’s murder is speculative, but it’s our job to follow through on them, see where, if anywhere, they lead to.”

  “This is horrible,” Vera Jones said.

  “It sure is,” Teller said. “Look, neither Miss Pinscher nor I have any personal interest in either of you. All we’re interested in is who killed your son, Dr. Sutherland. Now, if your son was blackmailing people on the Court, if he had information to make that blackmail a genuine threat, well, that makes for a motive for murder.”

  Sutherland, who’d had his back to Teller, turned now and said, “You pry into people’s private lives. I am a physician. My relationship with patients is privileged under time-honored ethics and, I might add, under law. My patients—”

  Vera broke in now, obviously capable of staying cooler when the heat was on than the good doctor. “None of this matters,” she said. “If you’ve come here to ask Dr. Sutherland or me direct questions, please do, then leave. Anything else, anyone else is none of your concern.”

  “That’s your opinion,” Teller said. “Everything seems to link back to this office, to the files you keep, and as long as that link exists, I intend to pursue it. I think I speak for Miss Pinscher too.”

  Vera glared at Susanna. “Do you need someone to speak for you, Miss Pinscher?”

  “No, Miss Jones, not usually, but in this case it happens to be true.”

  “Let’s get back to it,” Teller said.

  “Please, leave this office,” Sutherland said.

  “Not just yet,” Susanna said more calmly than she felt.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Sutherland said. “You’re trespassing on private property. Do I have to call—”

  “The police?” Teller said.

  “I’ll report you,” Sutherland said, his hand poised above the phone, then slowly lowered it to his side. “Detective Teller, are you seriously suggesting that my own son was blackmailing me?”

  “We’re not suggesting anything,” Susanna said, “but we are saying that Clarence’s murder is connected, in some way we don’t fully understand yet, back to you, his father, and to this office. Surely in light of what we’ve found out about Justices Poulson and Childs, and your involvement with the CIA, the logic in what we’re saying is evident.”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” said Vera Jones, standing and going to the door.

  “Not yet,” Teller said. “What about the psychiatric files on Poulson and Dan Brazier?”

  Sutherland was now markedly calmer, more self-assured. Presumably he’d administered some tranquilizing therapy to himself, Susanna thought with amusement. “Did your son take them?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “How secure are your files?” Teller asked.

  “Very,” said Vera, and she said it with genuine conviction.

  Sutherland nodded vigorously. “You’re making assumptions about Justice Poulson and Mr. Brazier. You’re wrong. I can sympathize with your frustration. This, after all, was my son who was killed—”

  “Sure… well, look, doctor, we know Poulson was your patient, ditto Brazier. What goes on between you and a patient is private. We respect that, don’t want to know what problems Poulson had that made you put him into an institution for treatment. Same for Brazier’s therapy. All we’re saying is that your son got those people pretty damn mad at him, very possibly the Central Intelligence Agency too, which is not exactly an outfit to have mad at you. Whoever
killed your son may well have done it because of something he learned and took with him from this office…”

  Silence.

  “Would you excuse us, Miss Jones,” Sutherland finally said. Teller and Susanna looked at each other, then at Vera, who stood ramrod straight, hands at her sides, then slowly reached for the door, opened it and was gone.

  “Miss Jones has been with me a very long time,” Sutherland said when she had gone. “She’s loyal, efficient and…”

  “And?…” Susanna nudged. She was getting a bellyful of Dr. Sutherland. The man’s son was a creep, but he seemed singularly unaffected by his murder.

  “People like Miss Jones are wonderful, loyal, but sometimes just a little too set in their ways—too rigid—for, I hasten to add, all the right reasons. In any case, I’ve decided to do something she would hardly approve of and I’m not sure I do either. Still, sometimes we need to bend. You’ve found out that Jonathan Poulson, Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, was once a patient of mine. You’ve also learned that Dan Brazier was treated by me, and that his relationship with another justice of the Court was discussed. There are things that, no matter how hard we try, become known to others—”

  “Dan Brazier isn’t really important,” Susanna broke in, “but what he had to say about Justice Childs is.”

  “Yes, Miss Pinscher, I understand that… By the way, while your information about certain people having been patients of mine is correct, you’re wrong about Clarence. I mean to say, even if he wanted to do what you’ve suggested, he could not possibly have gotten into my files. My files are secure. There are two sets of keys to them, and two sets alone. I have one, Miss Jones the other.”

  “What about Miss Jones?” Teller asked.

  “Please, don’t be ridiculous. You’ve seen how she is, how even more rigid about confidentiality than I am—”

  “Did Clarence and Miss Jones have an affair?” Susanna asked abruptly.

  “From the ridiculous to the absurd. But even if that were true, she would never compromise those files… not for anyone. I would entrust my very life to Miss Jones. And I say that as a psychiatrist whose job it is to know a little something about people. She is just too conditioned to loyalty and honor to deviate. Sometimes this may not always be to her advantage, but there it is, and it is certainly to my advantage and that of my patients. Past and present… But as I said, I am going to bend a little so as to convince you without question of this, which should allow you to then concentrate your efforts in more promising areas… I’m going to show you the files on Mr. Brazier and Justice Poulson…”