by Tim Kizer
“You will not be able to withdraw your guilty plea if you receive a more severe sentence than the one recommended by the State. Do you understand that?”
“Yes.”
The more David thought about it, the more he believed that the kidnapper, or his agent, was sitting in the public gallery.
He was answering the judge’s questions on autopilot now.
Maybe he should ask the bailiff to detain the people in the gallery and then ask Detective Barton to interrogate them? This nightmare could end today if Barton managed to get the kidnapper to confess. Of course, the chance of the kidnapper confessing was vanishingly small.
And after the interrogation, he’ll kill Annie.
The thought of being so close to Annie’s abductor made David’s stomach twist into knots. He was itching to take a longer look at the spectators but was afraid the kidnapper would get suspicious.
When David returned most of his attention to the hearing, it was nearing its end.
“Mister Miller, how do you plead to Count Two of the indictment, which charges you with manslaughter?” Judge Jacobs asked.
“Guilty,” David said without hesitation.
“How do you plead to Count Three of the indictment, which charges you with tampering with physical evidence?”
“Guilty.”
“I find that the defendant, David Miller, knowingly, voluntarily, and intelligently entered a plea of guilty to felony charges in Counts Two and Three of the indictment. I accept his plea of guilty.”
That was it. The deed had been done. In about a month he would receive his sentence, which could be as long as forty years.
When he left the courtroom, David watched the footage shot by Marc Schroeder and found that the faces of all the spectators could be clearly seen. He thanked Schroeder and said, “I want you to send this video to this man.” David wrote Vincent’s name, phone number, and email address in Schroeder’s notebook. “His name’s Vincent Daley. Please send it today.”
“I will.”
The next day David called Vincent and asked if he could help identify the people in the video filmed by Schroeder.
“Yes, I can do that,” Vincent said.
“I think one of the spectators could be the kidnapper or his accomplice.”
“I’ll look into this. Has the judge approved your plea bargain?”
“Yes.”
“When is the sentencing?”
“July twenty-fifth.”
Chapter 20
1
An hour after Vincent emailed his friend at the Dallas PD pictures of the people who were in the video shot in the courthouse by Marc Schroeder, there was a knock on the door of his office. Vincent said, “Come in,” and was surprised to see David Miller’s wife, Carol, step through the door.
“Hi,” Carol said.
“Hello. How can I help you?” Vincent put down the envelope he was holding in his hand.
Carol approached his desk and asked, “Are you the owner of this agency?”
“Yes.”
Vincent motioned Carol to sit down, and she eased into a chair in front of the desk.
“My name’s Carol Miller.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Do you have a client named David Miller?”
“I’m sorry, that’s confidential information.”
“I’m his wife.”
“I don’t have a client by that name.”
“He paid you ten thousand dollars a month ago. What was it for? Did he hire you to look for our daughter?”
“Your husband has never been my client.”
“Please tell me if he hired you to look for Annie.”
“Mrs. Miller, I told you I’ve never worked for your husband.”
“Dave says he killed Annie. But if it was true, he wouldn’t have hired you to look for her, would he?”
“I guess so.”
“Have you heard that Dave confessed to killing Annie? He’s in jail now.”
“David Miller… I think I read about him somewhere.”
“I saw you in our house about a month ago. I know David was your client.” Carol pulled out her cellphone and dialed a number. Vincent’s phone rang on his desk. He glanced at it sideways but didn’t pick it up.
“You were with him in Phoenix.” Carol canceled the call. “You talked to me on the phone, I recognize your voice. I emailed you Annie’s DNA profile.”
The proof presented by Carol was solid, and Vincent saw no point in sticking to his denial.
“Okay, you win. Yes, I did some work for your husband.”
“He hired you to look for Annie, didn’t he?”
“No.”
Carol’s face flushed, her manicured hands clenched her purse.
“He’ll be in prison for twenty-five years. If you break confidentiality, it’s not going to hurt him. His situation’s as bad as can be, it can’t get worse.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Did he hire you to look for Annie?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he confess to killing her?”
“Maybe he hired me for show. To convince other people that he’s innocent.”
“For show?”
“Yes.”
Vincent was a little proud of the fact that it had taken him less than five seconds to come up with a reasonable explanation.
Or maybe this idea had been in his subconscious mind the whole time?
“Are you still working for him?
“No.”
She looked at him for a long time, then stood up. “Thanks for your time, Vincent. Goodbye.”
About two minutes after the door closed behind Carol, Vincent took Carol’s file from the drawer, opened it, and scanned the first page.
Carol was thirty-five years old. Her maiden name was Powell. She was born in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She had a brother by the name of Thomas Powell, who was two years older than her. She had no other siblings. As he looked at Carol’s brother’s name, it occurred to Vincent that it seemed familiar to him.
Why had David asked him if he had followed Carol? Did David think she might be cheating on him?
2
Vincent was at home in the kitchen making coffee when he remembered why Tom Powell’s name seemed familiar.
He had seen a Thomas Powell on the list of David’s cases.
Vincent went to the study, sat down at his laptop, and opened the list compiled by Paul Sibert. His memory had served him right: there was a Thomas Powell on the list, and he had the same birth date as Carol’s brother. Considering that he had lived in Tucson at the same time as Carol, Vincent had no doubt the Tom Powell prosecuted by David was Carol’s brother.
He tried to find Tom Powell’s current address and phone number but failed.
Paul Sibert sent him the details of Tom Powell’s case the next morning.
The case was simple. According to the police, Tom and his friend Andrew Woulard broke into a house in Tucson with intent to steal. The pair were arrested while they were ransacking the place. Both Tom and his buddy were charged with burglary in the second degree. A drug test conducted after the arrest showed that Tom had traces of marijuana in his system.
Tom claimed he had thought he was giving Woulard a ride to his uncle’s house, where Woulard needed to pick up a few things. He hadn’t helped Woulard break in; he had waited in his car until five minutes before the cops showed up. Tom said that he’d had no idea Woulard had intended to rob the house (which didn’t belong to Woulard’s uncle), and that he’d been trying to get Woulard to change his mind and leave just before they were arrested. Tom did not testify at the trial.
Andrew Woulard cut a deal with the prosecution. In exchange for a lighter sentence, he pleaded guilty to burglary and testified against Tom at the trial.
Tom was sentenced to seven years in prison, the maximum punishment for his crime, and was released after six years for good behavior, which was the earliest he could have gotten out: sin
ce Arizona was a truth-in-sentencing state, he was required to serve at least eighty-five percent of his sentence. Woulard received a one-year prison term, of which he served ten months.
Tom had been released one year and nine months ago, so he had had enough time to organize Annie’s kidnapping.
Was Tom innocent of the burglary? For some reason, Vincent believed Tom’s story. Perhaps it was because Tom hadn’t copped a plea.
Vincent’s arms broke out in gooseflesh when he realized that he had just solved the case.
Was Carol Tom’s accomplice? He could have found no better partner in crime than his sister because she was family and he could trust her.
Carol had married David six months after Tom’s trial. Had Carol marrying David been part of Tom’s revenge plot?
That was a great question.
Why had Carol come to his office? Had she wanted to find out if he had uncovered her and Tom’s conspiracy?
Vincent went through the pictures of the people who had purchased LG440G phones at CJ Cellular, and found that none of them looked like Tom. He must have been one of the twenty-eight customers who had had their sunglasses and hats (or hoodies) on the whole time they had been in the store.
David Miller was probably not Tom’s only target. Tom’s vengeance list might include the judge that had presided over his trial, the key prosecution witness, the arresting officer, and even his defense attorney.
The first person Vincent checked on was Curtis Gutterud, the judge who had presided over Tom Powell’s trial. Vincent went to the website of the Arizona Superior Court in Pima County and saw that Gutterud’s name was no longer on the list of the judges. A quick search on the Internet led Vincent to Curtis Gutterud’s obituary, according to which the judge had died at the age of fifty-seven six months ago. The cause of death stated in Gutterud’s death certificate, which Vincent obtained from an online vital records database, was myocardial infarction, also known as a heart attack.
Had Curtis Gutterud died naturally or had he been poisoned with a substance capable of inducing a heart attack?
Tom could have used potassium chloride, a drug that, when injected in excessive amounts, caused the heart to stop functioning. Thanks to its lethal effects, potassium chloride was used in executions employing the three-drug protocol.
Next Vincent contacted the law firm for which Benjamin Wodynski, the lawyer that had represented Tom Powell at the trial, worked. The receptionist informed him that Wodynski was in court at the moment and asked if he would like to leave a voice mail. Vincent said no, and hung up.
The lawyer was alive. Either Tom didn’t blame Wodynski for the guilty verdict or he was planning to take care of his attorney later.
Should he warn Wodynski about Tom Powell? The problem was, Wodynski might tell Tom that someone was on to him. Tom might panic and kill Annie.
Andrew Woulard had to be on Tom Powell’s hit list: he was not only the main prosecution witness but also a traitor. Vincent did some digging and found out that Andrew Woulard currently lived in Oro Valley, a city several miles north of Tucson. He called Woulard’s cellphone, but no one answered. He found Woulard’s father’s phone number, and dialed it.
A woman picked up the phone. “Hello.”
“I’m looking for Andrew Woulard. He’s thirty-six and used to live on North Oracle Road in Oro Valley. As I understand, he’s your son.”
“Yes, Andy’s my son. Why are you looking for him?”
Vincent recalled that Andrew Woulard’s mother’s name was Jessica Woulard.
“I’m investigating a case, and I believe Mister Woulard has important information concerning it.”
“What kind of case is it?”
“It’s a civil action against a chemical company.”
“Oh.” Jessica paused. “Andy went missing in February. We don’t know where he is. When did you last talk to him?”
“I’ve never spoken to Andrew. I’m sorry he’s gone missing. I hope he’s all right.”
Actually, he believed Andrew Woulard had been killed by Tom Powell.
“I’m afraid something bad happened to him.” Jessica sighed.
“Have you reported him missing to the police?”
“Yes.”
Tom had murdered Judge Gutterud in December and Woulard in February. And in May he had kidnapped Annie.
Vincent called Wodynski’s firm again at four o’clock, and this time Tom’s lawyer was in the office.
“I have reason to believe your life might be in danger,” Vincent said to Wodynski.
“Why?” the lawyer asked. “What kind of danger?”
“Someone might try to kill try in the next few months.”
“Who? Who might try to kill me?”
“One of your past clients. Have you seen Cape Fear?”
Vincent’s father used to say that Cape Fear should be shown in every law school as part of an ethics course, and Vincent had agreed with him.
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t know the name. What I do know is the threat is very real. Be careful.”
3
Vincent visited David Miller on Friday, June 24. When he told David that he considered Tom Powell the prime suspect, David said, “I didn’t know Carol had a brother.”
It was strange that Carol had never told her husband about Tom. Had she concealed the fact that she had a brother because she was Tom’s accomplice?
“Do you remember his case? Eight years ago, he was tried and convicted for burglary.”
“Did he say he didn’t know his friend was going to rob the place?”
“Yes, he did.”
“I remember it. Why do you think it’s him?”
“The main prosecution witness in his case went missing last February, and the judge that presided over the trial died last December. I believe Tom killed them.”
“How did the judge die?”
“A heart attack. I think Tom gave him a heart-attack-inducing drug.”
“Have you found him?”
“No.”
There was a pause, then Vincent said, “Why do you think your wife never told you she has a brother?”
David shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“When did you first meet Carol?”
“Eight years ago. About five months before we got married.”
David had first met Carol a month after Tom’s trial.
If he told David that Carol had married him to help Tom take revenge, he wouldn’t believe it.
“Can you ask your friend Paul to help find me Tom?” Vincent said.
“Yes. I’ll call him today.”
On Monday, June 27, Vincent caught The Manchurian Candidate (the 2004 version, with Denzel Washington as Ben Marco) on TV. By the time the movie ended, he had figured out how David Miller had known where the knife with Annie’s blood and his fingerprints on it had been.
Chapter 21
1
Paul promised to do his best to locate Tom Powell. After talking to Paul, David called Carol and asked if she had a brother.
“No,” she replied.
David was silent for a few seconds, surprised by Carol’s answer. Why was she lying?
“Does the name Tom Powell ring a bell with you?”
“Tom died a year ago.”
“So you did have a brother?”
“Yes.”
Well, technically, she told the truth. She doesn’t have a brother, because the guy’s dead.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Tom after we got married?”
“Because I was ashamed of him.”
He believed her. A convict brother was something many people would be embarrassed about.
Perhaps he believed Carol because he loved her. They say love makes you stupid.
He loved Carol with all his heart and soul. It hadn’t been love at first sight, but it had been close: David had realized he was in love with Carol just a few days after he first met her in that café a block from the Pima County Attorney�
�s Office.
“Did he contact you when he got out of prison?”
“No. We weren’t very close. Why are you so suddenly interested in my brother?”
Did Carol know he was the prosecutor in Tom’s case?
“Someone told me you have a brother, and I wanted to know if that was true. I’m sorry he died.”
Could Carol’s brother have faked his death? Yes, he could.
It made sense for a man who was a killer and a child kidnapper to stage his death: being dead was the best alibi there was.
He would be very hard to track down if he had taken on a new identity.
“How did Tom die?” David asked.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“He was murdered. Can we not talk about it?”
David called Paul Sibert again and asked him to find out how Tom Powell had died. Four hours later, Paul told David that Tom had been killed seven months after he got out of prison. His body had never been found. There had been signs of struggle in Tom’s house, and his blood had been all over the living room, so the police had come to the conclusion that he had been murdered. The case had never been solved.
David passed this information along to Vincent, and then said, “I think he faked his death.” He paused. “It’s him, Vince. He did it, I’m sure of that now.”
2
When David called Vincent on Tuesday, the investigator said that he had figured out how David had known where the knife found by the police in Ardmore Park had been.
“I believe Tom somehow planted this information into your subconscious mind,” Vincent said. “And he also convinced your subconscious mind that you murdered Annie—that’s why you failed the lie detector test and confessed to killing your daughter when you were under hypnosis.”
It was an outlandish theory, but it did explain everything.
“How did he do it? Is it even possible?”
“He might have used hypnosis. Hypnotists can make people cluck like a chicken, they can make smokers detest cigarettes. I guess a really good hypnotist could get a person to think he killed someone. Tom either did it himself or hired someone to do it for him.”