Law and Vengeance

by Mike Papantonio

  “That’s more than impressive,” said Gina. “I wish I had your skills. Sometimes, I look at my own notes that I’ve scrawled down and I can’t make heads from tails. But I’m curious if you were doing your shorthand last October ninth in the Arbalest boardroom when Robert Diaz spoke about problems associated with the Sight-Clops gunsight.”

  “I can’t confirm that particular date,” Betsy said, “but I do remember Rob talking about the Sight-Clops.”

  “Later that same day,” Gina said, “Robert Diaz was fired and had an armed guard escort him from the building. Do you remember that?”

  Betsy sighed and nodded. “I sure do.”

  “Did you like Mr. Diaz?”

  “Everybody liked Rob,” said a smiling Betsy. “He was a flirt. He always pretended to serenade me. And he always brought me candy. He did it just to be nice to an old lady. He knew I loved chocolate.”

  “I love chocolate too. I’m wondering, do you remember what he said about the Sight-Clops before he was fired?”

  “He said that when it was very hot and humid, the gunsight would not work properly. He said people had died because of that.”

  “You seem to remember that very distinctly,” Gina said.

  Templeton intervened: “Just ask her questions, Ms. Romano. We don’t need your side comments.”

  Gina continued as if Templeton were not even in the room. “How is it that you seem to vividly remember that conversation?”

  “I think I sort of perked up when I heard Rob talking about Sight-Clops. You see, I made this association with the cyclops. You remember that Kirk Douglas film where he played Ulysses?”

  “I’m afraid I missed that one,” said Gina.

  “It’s a good one,” said Betsy. “I saw it when I was a teenager. And what stuck with me most was this monster, this cyclops, who ate Ulysses’ men. I had nightmares for days. And so, when I heard the name Sight-Clops, I thought cyclops.”

  Gina looked across the table at Templeton. He was in hell.

  “Well,” said Gina, “I sure hope you won’t have any nightmares from this deposition.”

  “I won’t,” said Betsy. “We’re not done already, are we?”

  Gina nodded and said, “I told you it would be like having a cup of coffee. But I want to thank you for spending time with me.”

  “Oh, it was my pleasure, dear. It was like me talking to my youngest daughter. I bet the two of you would get along famously.”

  One of Madsen-Zimmer’s paralegals stood up to escort the witness out of the room. The rest of their team did their best not to look at one another. They knew how much Gina had accomplished in such a short time. Through Betsy’s testimony, Gina had been able to link Robert Diaz’s expressing his reservations of Sight-Clops in the presence of Tim Knapp. She had landed the big fish that she wanted.

  Judge Sanders still hadn’t ruled as to whether Tim Knapp could be deposed, but now Betsy Mackey had opened the front door for Bergman-Deketomis to do just that. Madsen-Zimmer’s worst nightmare of having Arbalest CEO Tim Knapp placed under oath was now not just looking possible, but inevitable.

  “If it’s all right with you,” said Gina, speaking to those across the table, “we’d like a break now.”

  “Fine with us,” said Zimmer.

  “Let’s make it an extended break,” she said, “since we are so far ahead of schedule. We’ll use that time to send written and video copies of Mrs. Mackey’s testimony to Judge Sanders.”

  Zimmer didn’t like what Gina said any more than he’d liked what had occurred. He stomped out of the room. Behind him, almost in lockstep, the Madsen-Zimmer team followed.

  Carol joined Gina and the rest of her team at the Starbuck’s in the Madsen-Zimmer building. Gina couldn’t help but notice how many texts and calls Carol had received that morning. She handed Gina a piece of paper.

  “What’s this?” Gina asked.

  Carol shook her head, put her finger up to her lips, and pointed to the page. On it she had written, Your phone might be bugged. I’d like to borrow it for the next fifteen minutes and have it checked out.

  A numb Gina handed over her phone. Her eyes asked Carol to provide more of an explanation.

  Carol took out a notepad and began writing. I’ve had this feeling that something wasn’t right with our building’s security. It was a bunch of little things. So I ordered a sweep above and beyond our monthly electronic counter-surveillance. Most offices were clean, but not yours. That’s where two bugs were found.

  Gina motioned for the pen. Carol gave it to her and she wrote, Were the bugs removed?

  Carol shook her head and then wrote her response. We are hoping to be able to follow the surveillance devices back to the operator.

  Gina nodded her approval.

  If your cell phone is bugged, wrote Carol, we’ll be doing the same thing—trying to catch the spook. For the short-term you’ll just have to watch what you say.

  Gina nodded again. Then she reached for the pen and wrote, What about my home?

  Carol retrieved the pen and started scribbling. We will be expanding our sweeps to employee cars and residences. My gut feeling is that’s where we’ll find even more bugs.

  As Carol walked away with the cell phone, Gina couldn’t help but feel a sense of violation. She felt something else, though, something almost hopeful.

  Maybe they had a lead on Angus’s murderer.

  Ten minutes before her deposition with Officer Kim Knudsen was scheduled to take place, Carol returned with Gina’s cell phone. Her nod was all Gina needed to see. There was a bug on her phone. For now, there was nothing Gina could do about that. She needed to focus on her deposition.

  Carol and her team had provided Gina with lots of biographical information on Knudsen. And her short face-to-face with the officer had provided Gina with what she believed was a good feel for Knudsen. Gina liked to go into depositions with a “read” on the witness. That understanding, she was convinced, made the difference between a good deposition and a bad deposition. Any lawyer could ask questions, but few could properly connect with the true agendas of most witnesses.

  The lawyers of Madsen-Zimmer had no idea which lawyer would be confronting them: the hard as nails, fast-talking, fire-breathing harpy that had intimidated Paul Long or the sweet and kindly soul that had charmed Betsy Mackey. For them, it was a troubling kind of multiple-front lawyering.

  What they weren’t expecting was the thoughtful and introspective Gina Romano.

  It was Zack Templeton who escorted Officer Knudsen down the long hallway that led to the conference room. Gina sensed trouble within the ranks when she heard Knudsen raising her voice at Templeton as the two approached. There was no doubt in Gina’s mind that Templeton had been offering advice to the officer every step of the way, and that advice was not being well-accepted.

  Gina wasn’t surprised about that. Kim Knudsen was one of the good ones. She was a loving mother and wife and cared about her department and her city, even though the system had treated her so poorly. Gina was betting Officer Knudsen’s resentment also extended to Arbalest.

  It was there, on that pool of resentment, that Gina needed to focus. Her job had already made Officer Knudsen an experienced witness. And lawyers from Madsen-Zimmer would have tried to coach her even more. Gina was experienced in dealing with potentially hostile witnesses. She was aware Knudsen could shut down many of her inquiries. But Gina was counting on her being able to convince Knudsen they were both on the same side.

  “Officer Knudsen,” said Gina, “I would like to thank you for your service to your community. At the best of times, you are asked to do an impossible job under impossible circumstances. And at the worst of times, I know, terrible things can happen. I’ve read your file cover to cover a dozen times. I have a pretty good idea what you have been through since the accident, and I am so sorry. This morning, I’m going to have to ask you about some difficult and no doubt painful issues regarding the loss of your friend and partner in the line of du
ty.”

  “Are you going to ask questions, Ms. Romano,” Templeton asked, “or are you going to continue with this warm and fuzzy Oprah routine?”

  Templeton wasn’t looking at the witness when he made his remark; he didn’t see, as Gina did, Officer Knudsen’s angry glare at Templeton as he spoke and the slight hint of tears welling up in her eyes. Gina was always astounded by what she referred to as “corporate defense compassion atrophy.” Thankfully for her purposes, that compassion atrophy had already begun playing itself out.

  Gina took a deep breath and shook her head with genuine disgust. “I am sorry if Mr. Templeton thinks I have crossed his distorted line of acceptable friendliness. But with his permission, I’m ready to proceed with my line of questioning.”

  Templeton waved his hand for her to continue.

  “Officer Knudsen,” said Gina, “I understand your father was also a Chicago police officer, is that right?”

  “Yes, he was.” Knudsen couldn’t hide her pride in her father’s service.

  “And did he teach you to shoot a gun?”

  “Yes, he did. He was a good teacher.”

  “I am sure that he was. You became a great shot. At the police academy, you were the second-highest scored marksmen in your class, is that right?”

  “Yes,” said the officer.

  “And you won two statewide handgun shooting competitions, is that right?”

  “Yes, but that was a while ago.”

  Gina kept pressing. “It actually wasn’t that long ago, Officer Knudsen. In fact, you won the last competition just one month before your partner was tragically shot and killed.”

  “Under the advice of my union representative,” she said, her tone unmistakably hostile toward someone, maybe everyone, “that’s not something I am supposed to talk about.”

  Instead of pushing, Gina retreated. “All right, for now we’ll put the shooting aside. Still, it’s my understanding that you were assigned to train other police officers with handguns. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And for how many years did you do this?”

  “Five years,” Knudsen said.

  “And this involved target shooting?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And how far away were these targets?”

  “The distance ranged from ten yards to fifty yards.”

  “Officer Knudsen, did anyone make you aware of the fact that in yesterday’s deposition my colleague talked to Sal Ricci?”

  Gina thought she detected a look of distaste passing over Knudsen’s face.

  “You’re supposed to be deposing today’s witness, not talking about yesterday’s witness,” said Templeton.

  “Don’t you think Officer Knudsen has a right to hear that during one of Sal Ricci’s shooting demonstrations, on a hot and humid day, an expert shot equipped with a Sight-Clops gunsight missed the target from ten yards away?”

  Though all the Madsen-Zimmer lawyers raised their voices to shout their objections, Gina’s voice was heard by Knudsen over all their noise. That’s all she really wanted to accomplish.

  “He missed?” Officer Knudsen asked.

  “Completely,” said Gina. “And there are dozens of verified examples showing how Sight-Clops directed the round far from where the target was centered. Did your union representative share that information with you, Officer Knudsen?”

  “The witness has already told you that she doesn’t want to discuss her own shooting without her union rep present,” said Templeton. “Because of that, we object to this entire line of questioning. Let’s move on.”

  Knudsen ignored Templeton and responded with an unmistakable edge in her voice, “The ballistics report showed Vinnie was only twenty feet from me.”

  “Your gunsight gave you a false read, didn’t it, Kim?” said Gina.

  With Zimmer on one side of her, and Templeton on the other, the Madsen-Zimmer lawyers tried to get control over what was happening, but the train had left the station.

  “I told everyone it was the gunsight,” she said. “But no one listened to me. They said I just panicked. They told me I was in denial.”

  “Had you ever used your Sight-Clops before during hot and humid conditions?” asked Gina.

  “No,” she said.

  Gina signaled the AV operator. On the room’s big screen, a list of names appeared. The operator scrolled down to the bottom of the list. “Officer Knudsen, this is a list of one hundred and sixty-three names, and counting, that we have gathered so far.”

  The officer studied the screen, confused by the scrolling names.

  “I’d like to ask you if you know any of these people,” Gina asked, “aside from Officer Velez.”

  After looking at the names for a minute, Knudsen said, “I don’t recognize any of the other names.”

  “The list you see,” said Gina, “includes people who have been killed or wounded as a result of faulty Sight-Clops gunsights. Has anyone from Arbalest ever shown you a list like this?”

  “Objection!” Templeton shouted. “Are you questioning the witness or are you giving another one of your touching speeches?”

  “Let’s call it a speech, Mr. Templeton,” said Gina. “And when you hear the rest of it in trial, you’re going to love the ending.”

  31

  BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE

  With the two days of depositions concluded, Gina thought she’d have the rest of the week to catch her breath. In the weeks to come, her team and Madsen-Zimmer’s would find dates for her to depose Merle Marcus. If Gina prevailed with Judge Sanders, she would also be able to add Tim Knapp to the deposition list. Of course, if that was the case, it was likely that Madsen-Zimmer would drag their heels as long as possible before allowing the deposition to take place.

  What Gina couldn’t have known was that the Arbalest case was anything but done for the week.

  The Bergman-Deketomis contingent leaving Chicago was slightly smaller than the one when they’d arrived. In fifteen minutes, the last of their team would be at the airport on their way home after a grueling couple of days in the Windy City.

  Gina wished that Carol hadn’t left and felt frustrated that she couldn’t ask her friend about all the important questions kicking around in her head. She also couldn’t talk to her coworkers about her phone being bugged, or even warn them to avoid speaking about certain topics. Everyone needed to act and sound natural to avoid scaring off whoever might be listening. Gina doubted whether Madsen-Zimmer had any involvement in the bugging. They’d been caught flat-footed too many times during the depositions, she thought, for them to have been privy to any of Bergman-Deketomis’s strategizing about the case.

  One of the biggest questions on Gina’s mind was how long the bugs had been in place. She had to assume the worst and guessed they’d been around a month or more. What had she said, Gina wondered, that could damage her personally or professionally? Of most concern to Gina were her conversations with Deke. Her only solace was that ever since she’d voiced her need for vengeance in the hospital, she and Deke had been guarded in what they said to one another. In fact, in thinking back to their cryptic conversations, Gina couldn’t help but think they must have sounded like mobsters afraid that Big Brother was recording them. At least on that end, she felt secure.

  By this time, Carol would have told Deke and Martin about the surveillance. Knowing Carol, Gina was sure she would limit those in the know. In fact, she’d probably come up with some fabrication explaining why the firm needed access to certain Bergman-Deketomis’s offices as well as to the cars and homes of several key employees.

  Bennie interrupted Gina’s musing. “Everyone says you hit a home run,” he said. “So why is it that you’re scowling?”

  “I’m half Sicilian,” Gina said, “and half Spanish Sephardic Jew, so if I’m not planning a vendetta, I’m probably feeling guilty.”

  “Which is it?”

  “Half and half at the moment,” said Gina.

  �
�I’ll be glad to get home,” said Bennie.

  Gina wished she could be as enthusiastic, but at the moment her home didn’t feel like her castle. Someone had invaded her office and her privacy, and Gina wouldn’t be surprised if they’d done the same to her home. How could she be expected to relax in a bugged home?

  Her cell phone began vibrating. After Carol returned it to her, Gina had put it on vibrate mode during the deposition and had forgotten to put it back on to ring. Gina looked at the display and then motioned for everyone in the van to be quiet. Someone was calling from Judge Sanders’ office.

  “Ms. Romano,” said a male voice, “this is Hunter Joseph, the clerk at Judge Sanders’ office. Are you still in Chicago?”

  “I am,” Gina said.

  “I know this is last minute notice,” he said, “but we just had an opening on our court docket. Would it be possible for you to meet with Judge Sanders and representatives from Madsen-Zimmer in her chambers tomorrow morning at nine o’clock? The judge has come to a decision in regard to your deposition request.”

  When Gina finished with the call she said, “Ned? Bennie?”

  Both men looked at her. “Each of you will need to make two calls. The first will be to your wives. You’re going to have to tell them that there has been a change in plans and you won’t be coming home tonight.”

  “What’s up?” asked Ned.

  “We’ll be meeting with Judge Sanders in her chambers tomorrow morning to get her decision as to whether we can depose Knapp.”

  “Yes!” said Ned. “I knew we’d hear from her sooner rather than later. I’m betting this morning sealed the deal.”

  “Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch,” said Gina.

  “What’s the second call we need to make?” asked Bennie.

  “I am going to give you my credit card number, and each of you will be calling a florist. I want you to order the kind of arrangement which will not only get you forgiven by your wives, but will get you open arms when you arrive home.”