Charley Manner series Box Set

by Michael Marnier

  Vicky mirandized Campinera while she frisked him. She pulled a pearl-handled switchblade from his front pocket and dropped it in an evidence bag. “Is this the knife you used to cut him?” Campinera’s eyes widened but he said nothing. He looked down, shrugged, a smug smile on his face. Arrogant bastard. He deserved a beating for what he did to Katie and Hilly.

  I had received an update on Hilly just before we left Marathon. After two days in a coma, he suffered a massive stroke. He didn’t make it. The rifle butt blow was bad enough, but the bullet wound turned out to be more than a graze. Unfortunately, there is no evidence that incriminates Campinera. But I know he called for the hit. He’ll get his, one way or another.

  I handed the satchel of diamonds to Vicky. Evidence. I wonder if she’ll give me a loan. Never mind. We tied down the sled, shackled Jorge to the front seat and headed back to Marathon. Our prisoner bounced around a little and puked on his soaked clothing a few times. That was his problem. Vicky had arranged to have a Deputy U.S. Marshal waiting at Vaca Key. He will transport Campinera via prisoner van to the Miami Federal Detention Center. What, no limo? Tough times ahead, Jorge.

  TRIAL AND ERROR

  THE MIAMI U.S. ATTORNEY issued an indictment for Campinera. Vicky had gathered a boatload of damnatory evidence, topped off with a recording of her close call with a fifty-story balcony dive. The charges included drug trafficking, one count attempted and two counts of pre-meditated murder. Katie’s personal testimony would add kidnapping.

  The knife from Campinera’s pocket contained traces of blood in the blade slot. Even a two-hour ocean soak didn’t remove the deposits. There was enough to provide DNA matches to Juan Madera and Carlos Bandinera.

  ~~~

  MORE THAN TWO HUNDRED people sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the Miami federal courtroom. Half of them were reporters hoping for a juicy story. Drugs, diamonds and murder, the stuff that creates sold-out special editions and bestseller books.

  Assistant U.S. Attorney Eduardo Arnez strutted like a peacock to the jury box railing. He leaned into their space and smiled. His gleaming teeth were perfect and too white to be natural. He was first generation Cuban-American and a rising star in the Miami federal prosecutor world.

  Unbeknown to the judge, jury and defense counsel, he had a personal conflict of interest with this case. Vicky and I had no clue either, until the end of the trial.

  He extended scrawny arms, palms up and spoke in a strained, irritating voice. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this trial will be brief and my opening remarks even more so. I know your time is valuable and Jorge Campinera is charged with serious crimes. Drug trafficking, possession of stolen diamonds, kidnapping conspiracy, and yes ladies and gentlemen, murder. It is my task to show you the evidence so that you will render an objective verdict. Once you have heard the facts, I am confident that you will find him guilty. With your help, justice will be served.”

  Sitting next to Vicky in the first row behind the prosecutor’s table, I had a clear view of the jury. From the expressions on the jurors’ faces, the AUSA wasn’t scoring many points. He was coming across like an arrogant-jerk-know-it-all.

  I glanced at Vicky. She wore a frown and glared at Arnez. She whispered to me, “He’s overdoing it. If he blows this case, I’ll kill him.”

  I mocked shock.

  She said, “Just kidding.”

  I’m not so sure about that. Vicky had been working this case for nearly two years. She won’t take failure lightly.

  The AUSA concluded his opening remarks with a flutter of his arms and paraded back to his seat. A few jurors rolled their eyes. One shook her head. This was going to be a long trial. I’d rather be fishing.

  Defense Attorney Harvey Michaels stood in front of the jury box, keeping a respectful distance from the railing. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. What a drama queen, but judging from the jury’s rapt attention, his shtick was working.

  Michaels had a Perry Mason demeanor, a handsome face, impeccable light brown like-me-I’m-your-friend suit, and an air of confidence tempered with the right amount of humility. An endearing mix that produced hundreds of acquittals for his not-always-innocent clients. He was smooth, but not showy. His voice projected sincerity. The jury watched him closely, noticed every gesture, and listened to every word.

  Vicky squirmed in her seat and punched me in the bicep.

  “Ouch!” I stage-whispered in her ear. “It’s early. Wait till they hear Katie’s account of the abduction. And Hawk and I won’t let you down when we testify about the body.” She relaxed, but only a little. And then Arnez called her to the stand. He spent the better part of an hour with questions about the chain of evidence, the history of Campinera’s record, all for the benefit of the jury.

  The Defense did not seem concerned and passed on cross examination but reserved the option for the future.

  It was almost noon when the judge called a two-hour recess. I had to run to keep up with Vicky as she raced out the door.

  “Wait up, Vick. What’s the rush?”

  “I’ve got to get back to work. Find more dirt on Campinera before that rube Arnez blows the case completely. Maybe I should go see the U.S. Attorney. He must know Arnez is a jerk.”

  ~~~

  FIRST WITNESS for the prosecution in the after-noon session was yours truly. I walked to the witness stand, crossing in front of the jury box. As I settled in Jorge looked at me from his seat at the defense table, turning his eyes only. He kept his head facing the front of the courtroom. It was a cold dagger look. The whites of his eyes bulged. I could see the blood vessels in his right temple throb.

  I am not easily intimidated. His visual threat only increased my desire to see him enjoy a life-ending jolt from Old Sparky at Florida State Prison or wherever they fry murderous scumbags convicted in Federal court. Of course, he could choose lethal injection—can you believe it’s now the convict’s choice? I bet his macho mentality would make him go for the lightning bolt up his butt into his brain. Going out with a flash.

  After I was sworn in, AUSA Arnez said, “Mr. Manner, please tell the jury what you and your friend, Mr. Harold Handy, found in the Florida Straits six weeks ago.”

  I smiled my best boy-charm smile and told my story, from shark encounter to Coast Guard rescue to the return trip for my fishing chair when we found the flayed body of Juan Madera.

  The men on the jury seemed to enjoy the part about Jawselle’s preference for Gran Patron tequila. The women seemed to like my smile; the flayed body, not so much.

  “And what did you do with the body?”

  “Hawk radioed—”

  “You mean Mr. Handy?”

  “Yes sir. Mr. Handy radioed the station commander at Vaca Key for permission to haul the body aboard. We photographed it in the water first and used the dinghy winch to hoist body and chair together.”

  “And did you return directly to the Coast Guard Station?”

  “Yes sir. Deputy Sheriff Walker was waiting with a CSI tech from Miami. They took possession of the body.”

  Arnez walked me through the discovery of the map, the phone call from Carlos, the visit from Vicky, my cooperation with law enforcement and the abduction of Katie and Hilly by Campinera’s minions. The jury got it all in detail, except the part about Vicky’s interrogation techniques. That’s top secret.

  Defense Attorney Michaels tried to smooth talk me into contradicting myself, but it didn’t work. He gave up after thirty minutes of cross-exam. Next up was Hawk. Same deal. The AUSA walked him through everything I said. Some of the jurors nodded off. Even an attempt by Michaels to trip up Hawk didn’t get their attention. The judge noticed and adjourned for the day. It was past four o’clock.

  Vicky had returned to the courtroom a few minutes before the adjournment. She invited me and Hawk to her place for drinks. Hawk begged off, said he wanted to check out the scene at South Beach.

  Vicky must have found new evidence. She seemed less agitated about Arnez’ bungling. Maybe she sp
oke with the U.S. Attorney. She’ll tell me about it later.

  We headed for her apartment on foot. The blast furnace typical of Miami late afternoons was moderate. Still, when we arrived it was clear a shower would be more desirable than a drink. We stripped and stepped into her custom Deniau Shower System, complete with six body sprays and ten-inch overhead nozzle. Not that I noticed as she grabbed me by the mizzenmast and pulled me into the torrential deluge.

  A most enjoyable afternoon delight followed by drinks an hour later. No interrogation this time but Vicky’s vertical position technique was outstanding. We decided to order take-out Chinese and continued the ‘meeting’ through the rest of the evening.

  ~~~

  VICKY WAS UP and dressed, standing at the kitchen counter when I poked my head out the bedroom doorway. It was 0600. The trial will resume at 0900.

  “Eggs over easy, Charley?”

  The smell of fresh brewed coffee perked me up. “I’m starving. You bet, Vick. If the invitation is open, I could find a reason to get away from Marathon and visit the big city more often.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Last night was great, but I’m focused on my career right now.”

  “Just sayin’ sweetheart. No problem. My only commitment these days is fishing, now that Campinera’s in custody.” Vicky smiled and shrugged. I’ll take that as a maybe.

  ~~~

  HAWK PACED outside the courtroom door when Vicky and I walked into the courthouse at five of nine. He looked worried, if that was possible. Stone cold stares were his forte.

  “What’s the problem, bro?” I asked.

  “I checked in with my Commander this morning. There’s new activity on the straits. Mostly drug runners. The chatter on marine radio suggests the word is out on Campinera’s situation. The streets of South Beach are also humming. Rumors are flying about lost diamonds.”

  “That’s Jorge’s problem, not ours.”

  Hawk said, “I agree. Campinera’s loss of control is his tough luck, but what about the rest of the diamonds? If there really are a thousand, some cartel stooge might find the last hundred.”

  Vicky said, “If it’s Los Zetas, Jorge’s absence will open the door for the Mexicans. I’ve got some LZ members under surveillance. They’re next on my hit list.”

  “Don’t worry, Hawk. The last hundred diamonds are safe if Los Zetas can’t catch wahoo.” I checked the time. “We better get inside before the doors close.”

  ~~~

  KATIE WAS THE NEXT WITNESS, ready for battle. Fire flew from her eyes when she looked at Campinera on her way to the witness stand. The AUSA approached the stand after Katie was sworn in.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Hildebrand. Have you recovered from your ordeal with Mr. Campinera’s thugs?”

  Defense counsel leaped to his feet. “Objection. Your Honor, the Prosecution is stating as fact what we only know as an unproven accusation about my client’s involvement.”

  “Sustained. Mr. Arnez, please rephrase your question.”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Mrs. Hildebrand, are you well enough to describe to the jury what happened to you and your husband on December 13th?”

  Katie took a theatrical swallow, wiped a tear and nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

  “I know this is difficult for you. Take your time.”

  “Horatio and I were in the second week of our honeymoon in Nassau. After a detour south to dive the Great Inagua reef, we headed home along the Old Bahama Channel. Two days out of Matthew Town, just past Cay Lobos, Cuban gunboats stopped us.”

  “You’re sure they were Cuban? Not pirates?”

  “Yes, but one of the men wasn’t wearing a uniform.”

  Arnez took two photographs from the evidence table. “Is either one of these the man on the gunboat?”

  Katie looked at both photos and nodded. “Yes, the one with eyes closed is a bit puffy and the nose is gone but I see the same scar on his left cheek.” She looked at the second photo and said, “This one is the same man, just looks a little younger and not so pale.”

  Arnez turned to the judge and jury, waving the evidence bags. “These are exhibits A and B. The first is a headshot of the dead body found in the Straits of Florida a few hours after the defendant fled Miami in a helicopter. The dead man was with him and was very much alive. The second is a file photo of Mr. Carlos Bandinera, a known drug cartel lieutenant to Campinera and computer matched to the first photo.”

  Arnez turned back to Katie. “Please continue, Mrs. Hildebrand.”

  Katie looked at Campinera. His face remained stoic, except for his eyes. They bore into her. Katie is tough. She stared right back and said, “Horatio tried to keep the soldiers from boarding our boat. One of them struck him in the head with a rifle butt.”

  “Was he badly hurt?”

  Katie continued to glare at Campinera. “At first, I thought he was dead. There was blood gushing from the side of his head. But he rolled over and opened his eyes. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his head.” She looked at me from the stand. I felt like jumping the rail and pummeling Jorge. Katie must have sensed my rage. She gave me a brief smile and shook her head. Telling me to cool it.

  Arnez got her attention. “Then what happened?”

  “We were towed to a port south of our location and held in a warehouse on the docks.”

  “Did Mr. Bandinera stay with you?”

  “For a few hours. He left that afternoon and came back the next day.”

  “Did anyone else visit?”

  Katie sent an angry look at Campinera. “Yes, there was a second man, a little short, wiry man, much older. He rushed in a few hours after the first man left.”

  “Do you see him in this courtroom?”

  “Yes, he is sitting ten feet from me. His face is unforgettable.”

  “For the jury and court record, please point to him.”

  Katie pointed at Campinera. He smiled and winked. What a jerk. The courtroom gallery buzzed. The Judge gaveled for silence.

  “Did Mr. Campinera say anything to you and your husband?”

  “He said we would not be harmed if my brother gave him the diamonds.”

  “What diamonds?”

  “My brother and his friend found a map stashed in his fishing chair when they recovered it from the straits. Apparently, the man they found in the chair had hidden it before he died.”

  Defense Attorney Michaels leaped to his feet. “Objection, the witness is speculating. Her statements are based on hearsay.”

  Arnez said, “Your Honor, previous testimony by Mr. Charles Manner is consistent with what Mrs. Hildebrand stated. The evidence that we will present proves Mrs. Hildebrand’s understanding is accurate. I beg the court’s indulgence and patience.”

  The judge said, “Objection overruled. Please continue Mr. Arnez.”

  “How do you know about the map?”

  “Charley told me about it after he and Hawk rescued me.”

  Arnez walked Katie through the rest of her story, leaving out the shooting at The Hole that ended with Hilly fatally injured.

  Arnez wrapped it up. “Thank you for your testimony, Mrs. Hildebrand. I have no further questions.”

  The judge looked at the defense table. Michaels walked up to Katie, a wide smile on his face and said, “Mrs. Hildebrand, why would Mr. Campinera want to kidnap you and your husband?”

  Katie looked startled, hesitated and said, “I guess you’ll have to ask him. All I know is he showed up in the warehouse where Carlos brought us. He said we wouldn’t be harmed if my brother brought him some diamonds.” Katie looked at Jorge who was trying to avoid eye contact. “He certainly acted like the boss.”

  Michaels frowned. I guess he thought Katie was easily rattled. Not goin’ to happen, bro.

  “What were you and your husband doing in Cuban waters?”

  “We weren’t in Cuban waters according to our GPS.”

  “So you say.”

  Katie’s face reddened and her nostrils flared. Watch out
bro, she’s about to knock you down. She said, “The GPS unit on our sailboat has waypoint monitoring. There is a record of our route stored in memory. Check it out.” She was in full attack mode. “And why don’t you ask me what happened to my husband? I’ll tell you why. Because Mr. Campinera had him killed a week ago so he couldn’t testify. Too bad his men missed me and my brother when they shot at us.”

  Before Katie said another word, Michaels made a fast retreat to his table. “No more questions, Your Honor.”

  The judge looked at Katie, admonished her for the outburst and instructed the jury to disregard her last statement. But we all know you can’t un-say what was said. You go, Katie. That’s my sister.

  I looked at Vicky. “This is too easy.”

  She frowned and said, “It’s what we don’t know that concerns me. Arnez is a jerk and Michaels is too smooth. Something’s wrong.”

  And so the trial went on for the next week with more witnesses and evidence submissions. Hilly’s death wasn’t mentioned again. It prevented testimony to corroborate Katie’s but her ‘disregarded’ statement took care of it. Arnez was an arrogant ass but his staff and the evidence Vicky provided, including taped conversations with Jorge, made his case look pretty good.

  On the afternoon of the seventh day the jury shuffled from the courtroom to deliberate. Michaels’ closing argument was eloquent and appeared to impress some jurors. AUSA Arnez couldn’t control his offensive demeanor and may have undone a lot of the good work he’d managed so far. Vicky wasn’t too happy. Always willing to help, I volunteered for one more interrogation session at her apartment before leaving for Marathon.

  VOLATILE VERDICT

  THE JURY WAS STILL OUT one week after the trial. The bullet holes in Too Fast were repaired so Hawk and I went fishing. Vicky had turned down my invitation to join us. Said she had some urgent business with another drug bust. All work and no play has made her grouchy. I suppose the Campinera case is the real cause. We’ll just have to wait for the verdict.