The Advocate's Dilemma

by Teresa Burrell

  “What does Jaleel look like?” JP asked.

  “You’re on your own, man. I’ve said enough.”

  JP tried a few more questions, but Sammy kept changing the subject. JP threatened to leave several times and Sammy would beg him to stay, promising to answer, but each time Sammy would again avoid the questions. Finally, JP gave up. He had learned a few things that would come in handy for either him or America's finest.

  ***

  Sabre worked in her office while she waited for JP and Detective Shane Klakken to arrive for the meeting she had scheduled. She picked up the phone to dial Dave Carr to see if she could obtain any information about Dana, but hung up the phone when JP walked in.

  “When’s Klakken coming?”

  “He should be here any minute now.”

  “Since Marcus gave you permission to talk about Smithe, how do you want to handle this?” JP asked, still standing near the doorway.

  “I thought you could just tell Klakken everything you know. You might want to leave out anything that would get you arrested,” she said jokingly.

  JP didn’t laugh or even smile. “It might be better coming from you.”

  “What is with you two?”

  “I just think he’ll be more open to hearing the information if it comes from you. I can chime in if need be. Besides, you’ll tell him what you want him to know.”

  “I want him to know enough to look at other suspects and take the heat off of Bob.” JP appeared more uncomfortable than she had ever seen him before. “JP, will you please tell me what happened between you and Klakken?”

  “It was a long time ago. I was a rookie.” They heard the front door open and JP stopped talking. Elaine, Sabre’s secretary, soon appeared at Sabre’s office door, along with Detective Klakken. JP stepped back so the detective could pass, but before he did JP reached his hand out to him. “Hello, Shane.”

  Shane shook his hand but he didn’t linger. “JP,” he said.

  Sabre reached across the desk with her right hand extended. “Hello, Detective, nice to see you again. Please have a seat.”

  Klakken sat down and so did Sabre. JP remained standing against the back wall a few feet from the detective.

  “I understand you have some information for me on the Foreman case,” Klakken said.

  “That’s correct.” Sabre said. “I believe we have a great deal of information that will interest you. As you know, I represent the children in the Foreman dependency case. Marcus has had a pretty rough time and is suffering from depression over the loss of his father and other things that have happened to him in the past year or so. George Foreman ran a scam on the streets and he used his son, Marcus, to pull it off.”

  “What kind of scam?”

  “He would use his son for bait for rich guys looking for young kids.”

  “He was pimping out his own kid?” Klakken said. Sabre could hear the disgust in his usual, even-keeled tone.

  “Yes, but the plan was to take the money and then Marcus would run, but I think on at least one occasion he wasn’t able to get away. I’ll be glad to set up a time so you can talk to him, but I promised him I’d be there when you did.”

  “But now that Foreman is dead he can’t run the scam anymore, so what does this have to do with his murder?”

  “You’re aware that Foreman was beat up a few days before he was killed, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “The guy who did that was a mark who was ripped off, but it wasn’t the mark’s first encounter with Marcus. They had tried the scam on this guy once before, but it failed. I’m not sure exactly what happened because Marcus was reluctant to talk about it, but the man was mad enough the second time to slam Foreman around. He may have even been mad enough to kill him.”

  “And you know who this mark is?”

  “Yes, JP was able to track him down.”

  JP handed Klakken a piece of paper with Smithe’s information. “His name is Warren Smithe. He lives in Fallbrook and works for the Mercedes dealer there. He received a teaching credential in Mississippi, where he taught elementary school for two years until he left under suspicious circumstances. He then taught for eight more years before he was asked to leave because he molested a child.”

  “Does he have a record?” Klakken asked, without looking at JP.

  “No,” JP said. “The child’s family left town to avoid the humiliation. They refused to testify. No one else would come forward, either, although it was suspected that there were many others.” JP didn’t see any reason to tell Klakken that the family moved within twenty minutes of the molester. Interrogating them wasn’t likely to help at this point and that family had been through enough already.

  Klakken looked directly at Sabre. “And you think Smithe killed Foreman?”

  “I think it’s worth looking into, but that’s not all,” Sabre said. “There’s someone who calls himself Tuffy who has been working this same type of scam with a group of homeless kids. It’s been going on for years. Tuffy has a hierarchy set up so he doesn’t deal directly with the kids. He calls the kids his drones and he has his queen bees do what Foreman was doing. Then the queen bees drop off the money collected in different places each time.”

  “And you know who Tuffy is?”

  “No, but we know he has at least two queens, Chris McKenzie and Jaleel. We don’t have a last name for him. Either of them could have killed Foreman.”

  “Because he was in Tuffy’s territory?”

  “Yes, and the connection between Foreman and Tuffy is a guy named Ludwik Bernard Sampulski. He goes by Sammy. He’s in custody right now awaiting a preliminary hearing on some drug charges.” Klakken didn’t say anything so Sabre continued. “Sammy was a friend of Foreman’s and we think he was an old friend of Tuffy’s. We know Sammy worked with Tuffy recently as one of his queen bees. He then taught Foreman the scam and they used it with Marcus as their bait.”

  When Sabre stopped talking, Klakken said, “Anything else?”

  “JP?” Sabre asked.

  JP shook his head.

  “That about covers it,” Sabre said.

  Klakken stood up. “If you can give me the information you have on each one of these guys, I’ll turn it over to our sex crimes unit.”

  JP stepped forward from the wall he was leaning against, putting him within two feet of the detective. “Damn it, Klakken. Every one of these guys had a reason to see Foreman dead.”

  “We already have the man who killed Foreman,” he said calmly. “I believe he’s a friend of yours.”

  JP’s face turned red with anger. He took a quick, short breath. “Don’t do this, Shane. You have the wrong guy.”

  Sabre saw the look in JP’s eyes and was afraid of what he might do. She had never seen that look before. She handed Klakken a sheet of paper that JP had drawn up for her earlier. It listed each one of the possible murder suspects, their descriptions, and any other details that might be helpful to the police. “Here is the information you need,” she said in her attorney voice. Then she added pleadingly, “You have a reputation for doing the right thing and you’re a diligent, smart cop. Please find the guy who really killed Foreman.”

  Klakken reached out his hand to her, shook it, and said, “Thank you.” He left without looking at JP.

  Chapter 41

  In less than an hour after Klakken left Sabre’s office, she received a phone call from the sex crimes unit. They made an appointment to meet with Marcus at his home. Sabre arrived at Frank Davis’ home first and explained to Marcus that there were two detectives coming to talk to him about Smithe. Sabre was with Marcus in his room when the two detectives, a man and a woman, were brought in by Frank.

  Sabre approached them and introduced herself.

  The woman, a short African-American with big beautiful, round eyes and a reassuring smile said, “I’m Detective Marcia Jones. This is my partner, Olen Williams.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Sabre turned to the boy sitting on the end of his bed. “T
his is Marcus Foreman. He has been so brave through this whole ordeal.”

  “Nice to meet you, Marcus,” Marcia said, taking the lead. Olen took out a note pad and jotted down notes as Marcia interviewed Marcus. After explaining why she was there, Marcia questioned Marcus about Smithe. Sabre was impressed with the detective’s approach and her questions. Marcus opened up to her and told her everything he had told Sabre.

  “How many times did you see the big man in the black Mercedes?”

  “I only saw him twice. The time I told you about and once about a week earlier.”

  “Tell me about the first time,” Marcia said.

  “I was walking down the street and he pulled over and started talking to me.”

  “He just happened to pick you out of a crowd?”

  Marcus shook his head. “My dad had been watching him. He said the man was looking at all the little boys on the street. The man kept driving around the block and my dad approached him and talked to him.”

  “Were you with your dad when he did that?” Marcia asked.

  “No. I’m not sure what exactly my dad told him, but my dad told me the man would be looking for me. Then my dad sent me out by myself when the man circled back. It worked ‘cuz he pulled over and said something to me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He asked me what I was doing on the streets by myself.”

  “I said I didn’t have a place to live and I was looking for somewhere to sleep. Then he said, ‘I can help you.’ And I said, ‘I just need some money.’”

  “Did he offer you money?” Marcia asked.

  “Yes. So I asked him how much money he had and he said, ‘Lots.’”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Then he took out his wallet and showed me. He had three or four hundred dollar bills in his wallet. I wanted to grab the wallet and run, but he had both hands on it. He told me to get in the car and he would give me money. So, I got in the car and he drove off.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “He drove to a street off of Pacific Coast Highway. I’m not exactly sure where, but it was dark and quiet. There was no one around.”

  “What happened then?” Marcus squirmed. “I know this is difficult. Just take your time.”

  “He touched my wiener and he opened his pants and made me touch his,” he blurted out.

  Sabre cringed before she realized it. She turned her hot, red face away for a few seconds and tried to calm down for Marcus’ sake. She couldn’t let him see her concern for fear he would stop talking. He was doing so well and she could see how hard it was for him.

  “Did he do anything else?” Marcia asked.

  “He made me rub him fast, but then he took over and jacked off. I pulled my hand away and I started to cry. When he was done, he told me not to cry. He said I did just fine and I would do better next time. I wanted to throw up.”

  “Did he give you the money?”

  “Not at first. He drove me part way back to where he picked me up. Then he stopped and took out his wallet. He gave me $100 and said I would get $200 next time if I did a good job.”

  Sabre sighed, louder than she intended to. Marcus looked at her. “You’re so brave,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “I wasn’t brave. I was really scared.”

  “It’s okay to be scared and you should have been,” Sabre said, touching him lightly on the shoulder. She started to say that Smithe could have really hurt him; then she realized he had really hurt him. As many times as she had to deal with this sort of thing she never could get used to it. It always made her feel as if someone tied her stomach in a huge knot and just twisted.

  Marcia spoke up. “That’s true, Marcus, and I think what your attorney is saying is that you are being very brave to tell us what happened. I agree with her. I know this isn’t easy.”

  Marcus nodded his head, but didn’t speak.

  “You saw the man again after that, correct?”

  “Yes, the night my dad got beat up.”

  “What happened that time?”

  “The man drove up to me again on the street just like the first time and he asked me to go with him again. I made him show me his wallet to see if he still had money before I would get in the car. He grumbled something about having plenty of money but he took it out and opened it up.”

  “Did you get in the car again?” Marcia asked.

  “No. This time when he opened his wallet and showed me the money, I stabbed his hand with a little jackknife and he dropped the wallet. I grabbed it and started to run, but I tripped over the curb. He jumped out of the car and grabbed me by the neck and pulled me against him. My face hit him in the stomach. He held me so tight I could hardly breathe. I still had the knife in my hand and so I stabbed him in the gut with it. He let loose a little bit and I kicked him in the shin, ducked under his arm, and ran off. He ran after me, but I gained on him when I ran around some parked cars in a lot. I don’t think he could see me but I could see him ‘cuz he was so big. Then I made the mistake of running toward my dad who was a couple of blocks away, and the guy must have recognized my dad because he chased him when I dodged behind a building.”

  “That’s when your dad got beat up?” Sabre asked.

  “The last I saw, the guy was chasing him. I ran around for a while before I went back to where we were sleeping. When I got there, Dad was already asleep. The next morning Riley told me Dad had gotten beat up, so the guy must have caught him.”

  “Did your father ever tell you who beat him up?” Marcia asked.

  “No. I only saw Dad a couple of times after that because Social Services picked us up. When I saw him there was always a social worker or someone with us so Dad wouldn’t talk about it.”

  Sabre said. “He only had two visits after that and they were supervised.”

  Marcia took a notebook out of her pocket and glanced at her own notes. “What can you tell me about a guy named Sammy?”

  “We were with Sammy earlier that night….”

  “Which night?”

  “The last time I saw the big guy—the night I stabbed him. Sammy was supposed to be there with the car when I got the wallet, but he didn’t show. That’s why my dad was on foot. He should have been in Sammy’s car.”

  “How well do you know Sammy?”

  “He’s my dad’s best friend. I saw him a lot. He taught my dad the scam and we made a lot of money.” A confused pride came through in his voice. “Before that, we mostly just stole stuff. Sammy was teaching me how to pick pockets, too, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

  “Your attorney mentioned someone named Tuffy. Did you ever meet him?”

  “No. I just heard about him.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “I heard he did the scams like my dad did but he had lots of kids working with him.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “I heard Sammy telling my dad about him. He said no one ever saw Tuffy. He was too smart for that.”

  “Did you ever meet any of those kids?”

  “Not that I know of. None of the kids talked about what they were doing.”

  Marcia thanked Marcus for his help and told him he had been very brave. He looked at her with his brow lowered. “Did you have something else to add, Marcus?” she asked.

  “Will this help find my dad’s killer?”

  Marcia glanced at Sabre, who said quickly, “The police are doing everything they can to make sure they find the right guy. I’m sure this will help.”

  Olen, the thin, quiet detective who had been taking notes stepped forward. He had said very little during the interview. He looked Marcus straight in the eye. “Young man, I promise you that we will use everything you gave us to put this man away and we will give all the information to the detectives who are working on your dad’s murder. I’m sure it will be very helpful.”

  Chapter 42

  “How are you holding up, brother?” JP asked. Sabre and JP sat across from Bob in a lit
tle cubicle separated by glass. Bob’s eyes drooped.

  “Just getting a little R and R.”

  “You don’t look like you’re resting,” Sabre said. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Not so much. This isn’t exactly a five-star hotel. I’m sure you know Leahy couldn’t get the arraignment set until Monday so I’m stuck here for the weekend…at least.”

  “Is there anything we can get for you?” JP asked.

  “A #124 from Pho’s would be great. Can you smuggle it in for me?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” JP said seriously.

  “We have other suspects for Foreman’s murder—good suspects—and we’ve turned the information over to Detective Klakken, so I’m sure something will break soon.”

  “Thanks, Leahy told me what you did. He also said if we go to trial he’ll be able to use the information about the other suspects to create reasonable doubt. I hate to think this will go that far.”

  Sabre forced a smile. “It won’t. We’re going to find the real killer and get you out of here. We’re not giving up until we do.”

  “Hey, the good news is that this ought to take care of my smoking habit. Cigarettes aren’t as easy to get in here as you might think. Besides that, I’ve met some very interesting people, mostly repeat offenders. They really hate this part of the process. Most of them want their trials over with so they can get back to their ‘long-term, government-funded vacation.’ They say it’s a lot better in prison because they can work and meet up with old friends. So see, I have something to look forward to.”

  “But you don’t have any friends there, just clients you’ve obviously failed to help. You’ll have to make new friends,” JP joked.

  “Stop it, you two.” Sabre said. She looked at Bob. “You’re not going to prison.”

  “I know. I have faith. Not in the system. It obviously doesn’t work very well, but I know you two will find a way to solve this.” Bob’s face took on a more serious look. “How is Marilee holding up?”