The Third Victim

by Phillip Margolin

  “By this time, I was a row away and a little bit behind Prater. There was a gap in the boxes I could see through. Miles was lying on the floor, rolling around in pain. Prater kicked him and said something I didn’t catch. Miles begged him and put up his hand and Prater told him to roll over and face the floor so he could cuff him. Miles rolled over and that’s when Prater shot him in the back of the head.

  “When I seen that, I got on my stomach and crawled toward the far door. I heard Prater looking for me. After a while he must have gotten tired of looking, because I heard him head toward the way we came in. That’s when I snuck out.”

  “Mr. Wright, when Prater ran after Mr. Poe, why didn’t you run away from him and out the door you came in?”

  “I didn’t know if he’d called for backup and there was cops waiting out there.”

  “And you’re telling us you actually saw Officer Prater shoot Mr. Poe to death?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did.”

  * * *

  Three hours after they’d escorted Jackson Wright and his lawyer to the elevator, Carrie Anders and Roger Dillon finished telling Kyle Bergland about the meeting with Miles Poe’s associate.

  “What do you want to do?” Carrie asked.

  “You checked his story?” the DA asked.

  “I got a cop who knows Prater to talk off the record. He says Prater is dirty. We know Poe sued Prater and several cops for violating his civil rights by, among other things, giving him traffic tickets every time he drove downtown. My source says that Prater told him to ticket Poe even if he didn’t violate any of the traffic laws. He said he’d do it, but he never did because he didn’t think it was right.”

  “So Prater had a strong motive to shoot Poe,” Bergland said.

  Carrie and Dillon nodded.

  “What do you two think we should do?” Bergland asked.

  “It’ll be Prater’s word against Wright’s,” Dillon said, “but Poe was shot in the back and in the back of the head with Prater’s gun, Prater had it in for Poe, and Prater didn’t ask for backup when he went to the warehouse. The whole thing stinks, if you ask me.”

  “What do the surveillance tapes show?” Bergland asked.

  “The cameras inside the warehouse weren’t working, but the shots we got from outside back up Wright. Prater had the drop on them when Poe and Wright ran into the warehouse. Prater was holding his gun when he followed them.”

  “What does the lab say about ballistics?” Bergland asked.

  “Poe was definitely shot with Prater’s gun,” Dillon said.

  “Did they print it?”

  “Yes, but it was wiped clean,” Dillon replied.

  “Wright is definite about seeing Prater shoot Poe?” the prosecutor asked.

  Carrie nodded. “He claims he saw Prater shoot Poe in the back, then shoot him again in the head. Forensics says blood spatter supports the story. Wright says that Prater searched for him, then left the warehouse when he couldn’t find him. Wright says he ran out the back when Prater went out the side door and that he didn’t see anything after that. He also says that Poe told him he paid Prater with money and sex to look the other way when he dealt drugs or sold sex. He wasn’t there when Poe stopped Prater from beating one of Poe’s women, but he says that Poe told him about the incident right after it happened. He says Poe was pretty shook up because Prater told Poe he’d be sorry for interfering.”

  Bergland had been making notes with a pen while Dillon and Carrie spoke. Now he stared into space and absentmindedly rapped the pen on the edge of his desk. The detectives let him think. After a minute, Bergland sighed and focused again.

  “This could turn into a real clusterfuck if we don’t do something. Carlos Jones is stirring everyone up and he’s got the mayor’s ear. The mayor already called the boss, who told me to get moving before we have a riot on our hands.”

  “There’s something else, Kyle,” Carrie said. “The Mason case.”

  “What about it?”

  “Wright told us that Tonya Benson was in Miles Poe’s stable. If we give Wright immunity, he might be able to help us with the Mason case.”

  Bergland swore. Then he sighed.

  “Let’s get Prater in here and see what he’s got to say.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The day after Anders’s and Dillon’s meeting with Jackson Wright, Robin Lockwood walked into Regina’s office and shut the door.

  “Arnold Prater’s back.”

  Regina’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

  “The cop who’s in the news for shooting that drug dealer, Miles Poe,” Robin said. “Remember, he was in here a few weeks ago. He wanted you to represent him in a lawsuit Poe filed against him.”

  Regina looked blank, but then she said, “Oh, yes. Does he have the retainer?”

  “I don’t think he’s worried about being sued anymore, what with Poe being deceased and all. I’m guessing he’s worried about grand juries and murder charges. Do you want to see him? I know you weren’t thrilled about representing him in the civil suit.”

  “No, I wasn’t, but I’ll see him. Why don’t you sit in.”

  Moments later, Robin led Prater into Regina’s office and took a seat on the sofa. Prater hadn’t shaved, he was sweating, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his pupils were dilated. Robin wondered what pharmaceutical he’d ingested before coming to the office.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Prater?” Regina asked.

  “I have friends in the DA’s office. One of them warned me that Jackson Wright is saying that I shot Miles Poe and he’s going in front of a grand jury.”

  “Who is Jackson Wright?”

  “He worked with Poe. He’s a pimp and a drug dealer, a real piece of shit.”

  “And Mr. Poe was shot?”

  “Don’t you watch the news?”

  “Yes, I do, but I’m unfamiliar with this case.”

  “I saw Poe and Wright with drugs and I chased them into a warehouse. Someone knocked me out, took my gun, and murdered Poe, and Wright is saying I killed him.”

  “Are you presently under indictment?”

  “No, but I got called into the chief’s office about testifying, so I need a lawyer. I have money for a retainer and I want you to represent me.”

  “We’re talking a minimum retainer of one hundred thousand dollars. That’s a lowball estimate if you’re indicted for murder and the prosecutor seeks the death penalty.”

  “Yeah, well, I emptied my piggy bank. I can do one hundred thousand. I’ll get you a cashier’s check by the afternoon.”

  Robin thought that was interesting. It suggested that Prater’s money was not in a savings account and that his stash was probably not income he’d reported to the IRS. She imagined that Prater would be spending the afternoon running from bank to bank with cash, buying cashier’s checks in amounts smaller than the banks were required to report to the IRS.

  “Do you have any idea who knocked you out and who shot Poe?” Regina asked.

  “It had to be Poe or Wright who coldcocked me. I’m guessing it was Wright and that he’s the one who took my gun and shot Poe.”

  “I can see why he would knock you out, but why would he kill Poe?” Regina asked.

  “Business. With Poe dead, Wright can take over Poe’s territory.”

  Regina nodded. “Can I assume that you deny killing Poe?”

  “That’s right. But Wright says he saw me shoot him.”

  “And why would they take the word of a pimp and drug dealer who had a motive to kill Mr. Poe over your word?”

  “Me and Poe, we have a history.” Prater sounded nervous and he shifted in his chair. “Wright’s claiming I beat up one of Poe’s whores and threatened Poe when he interfered. And there’s the lawsuit Poe served on me just before he was killed.”

  “He was suing you?” Regina said.

  Robin frowned. She and Regina had just talked about the lawsuit and Regina had read the complaint during Prater’s previous visit.

 
Prater looked confused. “You saw the complaint.”

  Regina’s face lost all expression for a moment. Then she smiled. “Yes, I did, but why don’t you refresh my memory.”

  “Poe said I was giving him traffic tickets for no good reason and harassing his whores.”

  “Did you beat up one of Poe’s women?” Regina asked.

  “I was arresting her for prostitution. She resisted. When she attacked me, I had to subdue her. I was acting in self-defense.”

  Regina nodded. “And the traffic tickets?”

  “Yeah, about them. Poe thought he was hot shit and didn’t have to obey the traffic code. I did give him two tickets when I saw him breaking the law, but different officers gave him the other tickets. I had nothing to do with that. He was just a bad driver.”

  Regina studied Prater for a moment. Then she looked over at Robin.

  “Find out which DA is handling the case and see if you can get the police reports.”

  “Will do.”

  She returned her attention to Arnold Prater. “Give Robin your contact information, and I’ll need a copy of the complaint Poe filed. When I’ve talked with the district attorney, we can discuss whether or not you should testify before the grand jury.”

  “Okay,” Prater said.

  Robin showed Prater out. As soon as the door to her office closed, Regina leaned back in her chair and shut her eyes. Her mouth was dry and she felt panicky. Prater had talked about Poe’s lawsuit. He seemed so certain that she’d read the complaint, but she had no memory of it. None whatsoever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY–ONE

  Robin was in turmoil the rest of the day. She didn’t want to believe that something was wrong with her boss, but how else could she explain Regina forgetting about Miles Poe’s lawsuit? Regina had read the complaint, and Robin had mentioned it moments before Prater had entered her office.

  Robin was no stranger to short-term memory loss. She’d been really scared after Kerrigan knocked her out in her last fight as a professional, because there had been parts of the previous day that were complete blanks. But Regina hadn’t suffered a head injury, so what could have caused her to forget about the lawsuit? The word dementia kept sneaking into her thoughts. Robin had no medical training or real-life contact with anyone suffering from this condition. And she hadn’t been around Regina long enough to tell if she was showing signs of mental deterioration or was merely being forgetful.

  Robin left work early and went to the gym in hopes that a rugged workout would relax her. Several MMA fighters worked out there in the afternoon and she’d found a few who wanted to spar once they found out who she was. The workout was exhausting, but it didn’t stop her from obsessing about Regina’s inability to remember who Miles Poe was or the fact that she’d read the complaint in his lawsuit.

  Robin bought some Chinese takeout on the way home. After she ate, she booted up her laptop and did a Web search for dementia.

  The first thing she learned was that there were roughly seventy types of disorders that could cause or simulate dementia, and some were curable. Depression and misuse of sedatives could cause behavior that could present as dementia. And Alzheimer’s wasn’t the only type of dementia. Brain tumors, infections, and strokes could also cause it.

  There were warning signs she should look for. If memory changes disrupted daily life, it was something to worry about. Forgetting something that was recently learned or asking for the same information over and over was a sign that there was a problem. Was someone experiencing challenges in planning or solving problems, having trouble following a recipe, or keeping track of bills? Regina had evidenced some of these behaviors, but she’d also been incisive and insightful when she’d discussed complex legal issues with Robin.

  Robin learned that problems could occur in the early stages of dementia when a person was presented with unfamiliar tasks or navigating less familiar places. Old memories tended to be preserved and old procedures that had been repeated were more likely to still function. So a person could log in to their computer easily, since they’d done this a thousand times, but change the software slightly so the menus were in a different order or give them a new password and the person could run into trouble.

  When the condition progressed, a person might have difficulty reading or judging distances. An article discussed a patient who had hardwood floors with a pattern in the wood. There was also a rug in front of her bathroom. She suddenly refused to go to the bathroom in her home, although she would go into other bathrooms. It turned out that she saw the rug as a gaping hole and was afraid of falling into it. The problem was solved by removing the rug. Robin hadn’t seen any evidence that Regina was experiencing these types of problems.

  A person with dementia might also have trouble following or joining in conversations or might forget words. They might also misplace common objects like keys and accuse others of stealing them. Showing poor judgment was another serious problem. Robin learned that people with dementia were easy prey for con men and would send large amounts of money to telemarketers. They might also withdraw from social activities that were once important to them by giving up hobbies. Later on, they might forget to root for their favorite sports team or stay away from family gatherings. And they might experience mood or personality changes or become fearful, suspicious, or agitated. These were things she should look for, but the articles warned that normal people also forget their keys or act anxious.

  When Robin stopped reading, she was no closer to deciding if Regina had a problem. She had been troubled by some of the things Regina did, like forgetting the code to the copying machine. But Robin had also forgotten telephone numbers and misplaced files. She decided to keep her thoughts to herself but to watch her boss carefully.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jeff Hodges had a lot to do in Alex Mason’s case, but Regina had emphasized that interviewing Meredith Fenner, the state’s star witness, was of the utmost importance. Fenner was living in a four-story brick apartment house two blocks off of Burnside Avenue. The apartment house was old and there was no elevator. A faint odor of Indian food accompanied Lockwood and Hodges up the stairwell. Jeff stopped in front of one of the apartments on the third-floor landing. They could hear a television inside.

  “This is it,” he said. “Why don’t you talk to Fenner? She might respond better to a woman.”

  Robin rapped her knuckles on the door. After a few seconds, she knocked again. Someone turned down the television and they heard footsteps approaching. There was a peephole in the flimsy wooden door. Robin stood in front of it and smiled.

  “Who’s there?” Meredith asked. She sounded frightened.

  “Hi, Miss Fenner. I’m Robin Lockwood. Jeff Hodges is with me. We work with Regina Barrister. Can you spare us some time?”

  “I don’t understand,” Meredith said.

  “Ms. Barrister is representing Alex Mason.”

  “Why do you want to talk to me?”

  “Can you please let us in, so we don’t have to shout through the door?” Robin asked. “We won’t stay long.”

  It was quiet for a few seconds. Then Jeff and Robin heard the chain being removed and several locks turning. The door opened and Robin got her first look at the key witness against their client. Meredith looked small, frail, and frightened and seemed to have been swallowed by the faded large-size sweatshirt she was wearing.

  “How did you know where I live?” Meredith asked when she’d shut the door behind her visitors.

  “We have reciprocal discovery in Oregon,” Robin said. “We sent the DA our list of witnesses with their addresses and phone numbers and he sent us his list. Everyone talks to everyone so that we can get a true picture of what happened.”

  Meredith shook her head. “I … I really don’t want to talk about it. I have nightmares. I get very upset when I think about what … what he did to me.”

  “That’s just it,” Robin said. “Mr. Mason says there’s been a mistake. That he wasn’t the one who hurt you. You do
n’t want an innocent man to go to prison, do you?”

  Meredith worried her lip.

  “One of the worst things that can happen to a human being is to be sent to prison for something he didn’t do,” Jeff said. “You don’t want to be responsible for that.”

  “I … I think he did do it.”

  “If you convince us of that, we’ll talk to Ms. Barrister and recommend that she tell Mr. Mason to enter a plea. That way, there won’t be a trial and you won’t have to relive what happened,” Robin said, in hopes that would convince Meredith to talk.

  Meredith was quiet for a moment. Then she shook her head.

  “I don’t want to talk to you. Please go.”

  “We understand why you’re upset,” Robin said.

  Meredith shook her head. “No, you don’t. You have no idea what I went through. I know you’re just doing your job, but I want you to go.”

  “You’ll have to answer Ms. Barrister’s questions in court if the case goes to trial.”

  “Please,” Meredith pleaded. “I can’t talk about it. I’ve told the police what I know. They must have given you a report. I don’t have anything to add.”

  “There might be something you didn’t say—something you’ve remembered since—that will help us get to the truth,” Robin said.

  Meredith shook her head from side to side. “No. There’s nothing. I want you to leave.”

  Jeff touched Robin’s elbow. “Thank you for seeing us,” he said as they handed Meredith their cards. “I can see how awful this has been for you. Think about what I said about sending an innocent man to prison. You don’t seem like the type of person who would want to be responsible for something like that. If you have a change of heart, please call. We’ll meet with you anywhere you choose.”

  As soon as Robin and Jeff were back in the hall, the investigator turned to the lawyer.

  “That is one scared rabbit,” he said.

  “Can you blame her? You read her statement.”

  Jeff frowned. “Alex Mason is in big trouble if she points the finger at him.”