Justice in June

Home > Mystery > Justice in June > Page 12
Justice in June Page 12

by Barbara Levenson


  Noises in the living room stopped the conversation.

  “Mary, where the hell are you? What’s going on?” The angry voice of Carlos filled my little house.

  “Carlos we’re back here. Calm down. Everything is okay,” I called to him.

  “Ay, who did this?” Carlos said as he burst into the bathroom, which was now filled to capacity with large male bodies.

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out, sir,” the officer said. “Now if everyone will step into the bedroom, I’ll try to finish my investigation.”

  “This does it, Mary. Tomorrow I’m having a burglar alarm installed here. If you won’t move in with me, then you must have more security here. Do not argue with me.” Carlos’s face was turning the color of the lipstick writing.

  “I do not need or want an alarm here. I have Sam.”

  “Sam is a wimp. Where was he today?”

  “He couldn’t get into the bedroom. I keep the door closed.”

  “Well, he tried,” Flako said. He was pointing to the outside of the door. “Didn’t you notice this?”

  I came over to see what he meant. The door had claw marks all over it. Some wood splinters hung precariously. The white paint was barely visible.

  “I guess I saw it, but I was pretty tired when I walked in and Sam had already begun his handiwork on some other occasions,” I said. “See, Carlos, he did try to protect the house.”

  “That’s not protection. He does that when you and I are in the bedroom and he wants to join in.”

  “Let’s discuss this later,” I said. “The lieutenant wants to finish his work.”

  “Try not to touch the window frame or glass. The finger-print tech will be over first thing tomorrow to see what we can get, but with that rain it probably won’t amount to much.” Lieutenant Fonseca packed up his goodies and started for the door. “Oh, and don’t erase the writing or touch the mirror either.”

  Flako followed the officer to the front door. Carlos put his arm around me.

  “Mary, you can’t ignore the things that have been happening to you. First you were accosted at the office, now this. I feel responsible for getting you involved with Luis. I want you to move into my house until this case is resolved.”

  Before I could answer, Flako returned. “Fonseca told me that if the feds are involved in scaring you off of Luis’s case, there is very little the local police can do. I think he was a little scared.”

  “Okay, boys,” I said. “I’m not moving out of my house, and I refuse to believe that my own government would be threatening me. I am staying right here and now I am going to sleep, so everyone clear out. Carlos, I know you care about my safety, but I will be fine. Sam is good protection, and I’ll keep him right here during the night.”

  “This is against my better judgment, but at least take this and keep it with you.” Carlos reached into his pocket and pulled out a small revolver.

  “Do you have a concealed weapons license for that?” the lawyer part of me asked. “Were you going to use that tonight?”

  “You seem to forget, Ms. Attorney, Florida is one of the few states where you can chase away an intruder and still shoot him as he runs. A man’s home is still his castle in this state,” Carlos said.

  I reached out and took the gun. I felt Carlos was safer without it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The fingerprint tech arrived while I was still downing my morning coffee. She did her work quickly, covering the bedroom and bathroom with the dust used to pick up the prints. She took a complete set of my prints to eliminate them from anything she could retrieve.

  “I don’t think I’ve got much of value here, but we’ll see. Sorry, I’ve got to rush on, six more scenes to get to this morning. Busy night last night,” she said.

  “Can I clean up this mess?’

  “Wait ’til this evening in case we need to look this over again.”

  I was glad not to deal with it. I had too much work at the office, and I was still facing my meeting with Mark at noon.

  At eleven I left the office and made a stop at the local deli. Maybe I could soften Mark up with an offering of food. Sandwiches, potato salad, and cookies were packed in a cooler bag, and my last-ditch plan to help Liz was whirling in my brain as I arrived at the courthouse.

  I was sent directly back to Mark’s office when I checked in. I tapped on his closed door and walked in. Mark came around his desk and took my arm. He led me over to the sitting area and pointed to his sofa. I opted for the straight chair next to the sofa.

  “I brought lunch. I thought maybe I was using up your lunch hour.” I began to spread the contents of the deli bag on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

  “That was very thoughtful of you. This looks like the picnics we used to have by the lake on the campus. Remember?”

  “Sure.” I grabbed a sandwich and took a bite, but for once I wasn’t hungry.

  “Mary, so many times I’ve wished we could go back and do everything over. I have missed you.” Mark covered my hand with his. I dropped the sandwich.

  “Look, I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression about my visit to your office. We can’t go back in time. We’re both different people now.”

  “I know you cared about me, Mary, and I know I hurt you when I left, but I didn’t have a choice. I missed you and I still do.”

  “I’m going to say this one time. Yes, I cared about you, and yes, you hurt me, but it was all for the best. You had to do your baseball thing. I had to do my law school thing. I still want to be your friend. Can’t we be friends and forget the past?”

  “I guess so. Is it true that you have a boyfriend? I saw your brother William last week He said you were seeing some rich Cuban builder.”

  “He’s half Cuban, and we are together. I am really happy, and I know you’ll meet someone great. Are we friends?”

  “Yeah, we’re okay, but why are you here?”

  “I have a giant favor to ask. I need your help, but everything I’m going to tell you is in strictest confidence. Can you promise?”

  “I don’t know. What’s this about?”

  “I have to know that you won’t discuss this with anyone. It’s about a client.”

  “Well, now my curiosity is kicking in. Okay, I can keep a secret.”

  “Judge Liz Maxwell is being investigated by Jason Jones’s office. He thinks she’s involved in fixing some drug cases. I know she’s innocent, but someone is using her to dismiss cases on her docket. The informant in the Jack Carillo case was murdered after she ordered his deposition to be taken, so that just added to Jason’s suspicion.”

  “Maybe she is involved. This sounds very serious. Why are you coming to me?”

  I took a deep breath. “I want you to create a fake case file, a drug case, and file it in Liz’s former criminal division. Liz was moved to family court while the investigation is ongoing, so this whole charade will be even more difficult. Once the case is filed, I want you to call Liz’s bailiff, and tell her to come and pick up the file, that the file is confidential and needs to be kept in Liz’s chambers.”

  “Mary, this is a nutty scheme. You and I could both get in deep shit by doing such a deal. I could lose my job and you could lose your law license. And how do I explain to the bailiff why a confidential file should be kept in the chambers of a judge who isn’t even presiding in criminal court? And what do you expect to happen? Are you trying to catch your client in a criminal act?”

  “Of course not. I know Liz isn’t involved. It’s her bailiff, Gladys, that I expect to catch, along with her import-export husband. I think Gladys will send a dismissal order to your office as soon as she’s had time to discuss the case with her husband.”

  “And how does the bailiff accomplish this order without Judge Maxwell seeing it?”

  “Believe it or not, Liz has a signature stamp that Gladys is allowed to use. She says Judge Ackley told her to get a signature stamp. Do you know if other judges use signature stamps?”
r />   “No, I didn’t know that. I wonder if any of our clerks use those stamps for judicial orders. This could open up a whole bunch of problems. But Jason will have a stroke if this thing backfires and we’ve used fake filings that appear to have come from his office. Only the prosecutor can file criminal charges. Maybe this will make everything worse for your client.”

  “Come on, Mark, think about it. You’ll be doing a public service. Getting rid of a bad apple in the court system. You have to run for election again, and the bar might even give you an award.”

  The suggestion of an award to a former athlete used to receiving yearly trophies turned on a light in Mark’s eyes. I watched him turn to the credenza behind his desk where his Rookie of the Year picture and plaque looked back at him. What could sound better to a former jock who has to run for office every four years than a brand-new award.

  “Where do we start? How do we create this file?” Mark asked.

  “We need the charging document. You know, it’s an information, not an indictment, because it’s filed by the state attorney. You know what they look like. And we need a discovery packet. I’ll do the writing. We’ll identify the defendant as a Colombian citizen. That should send up a flag for Gladys to go running to her husband. We can include the name of the murdered informant and Jack Carillo.”

  “I’m not following you. Who are they and what do they have to do with this?”

  “The informant was murdered after Liz set up his deposition, and Carillo was murdered after he agreed to identify who else was involved in the drug ring. If they’re both involved in our made-up case, Gladys and her husband will make their move to end the case. That is, if my theory about them is correct. The dismissal order will come back to your office. Then you and I will go in to see Jason with Liz on Monday.”

  “Oh, no, I’ll help you with the file. I’ll get it delivered to the bailiff, but I’m not going to go with you to see Jason. Next thing you know, he’ll arrest me. My messenger will deliver the file to the bailiff. I don’t want her coming to pick it up. That would really look strange.”

  “Okay, okay, do it your way and you don’t have to go with me to see Jason. Let’s just get started making up the file. Pull out the charging document from another file so we can trace some of the signatures and get the language right.”

  “Now you’ve got us facing forgery charges too. You really owe me. Let me know if you ever get rid of the Cuban guy you’re dating.”

  “Half Cuban,” I said, as Mark planted a very friendly kiss on my lips.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I left Mark’s office with that great feeling you get when you’re waiting for a special gift. Like the night before Christmas when you’re sure you’re getting a new bike. I was sure that I was about to catch a drug dealer and free Liz from disaster; well, almost sure.

  Catherine had a list of messages waiting for me. The first was from my brother Jonathan. Jonathan was the oldest of the three of us. He was my hero from the time I took my first steps. William was two years younger than Jonathan and only seventeen months older than me. William was the typical middle child, always trying to keep up with Jonathan, and always vying for attention that was being usurped by me, the baby.

  I looked through the other messages. There was one from Liz. “Just checking in” was the message. I’m sure Catherine had listened to her nervous chatter and boiled down the real message.

  The third message was from a male who refused to leave his name. He said he would keep calling, but would only speak to me. Catherine’s note said he spoke in a whisper and sounded paranoid or crazy. I get a lot of calls from strange people who want to sue the government for putting radio waves in their brains. One caller wanted to sue NASA because “they had spirited him into outer space and allowed aliens to give him a medical exam.” I threw away the message from the whisperer.

  The fourth message was from the assistant to Ambassador Francis Miller. “We want to assure you that the ambassador is in communication with the State Department about Luis Corona, but we have no new information.” I wondered if Francis Miller ever spoke to anyone directly other than the president.

  I returned Jonathan’s call first. He was still my hero.

  “I just called to tell you great job on your press conference. That was a very good Herald article.”

  “Yeah, the reporter is just an intern. I guess he was thrilled to get on the front page of the local section,” I said.

  “Mother and Dad probably won’t tell you, but they were really proud of you. They think you’ve been very brave defending someone so unpopular.”

  “I don’t feel brave, just angry that Luis has all but disappeared after his arrest. Why won’t our parents tell me that they’re proud of me? That makes me angry.”

  “They’ve got this thing about women getting married and nurturing kids. I guess they think if they reveal that they like what you’re doing, that’ll just encourage you to put off a family life. You should try to talk to them, not to me. Not to change the subject, how is the new BlackBerry working out?”

  “Yes, you are changing the subject and you know it. I’m actually getting to like the calendar part of the BlackBerry. It does help to keep my schedule straight, which Catherine likes. But I had a strange threatening phone call right after you guys gave me the phone. No one even knew the number yet. Where did you buy it?”

  “I didn’t. William bought it. It was really his idea. He just added my name and told me he was having it delivered to you at the office as a surprise. What kind of threatening call? Maybe it was a wrong number.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call William.”

  I hung up and dialed William. He was in a client meeting, so I told his secretary to check his calendar and see if he could meet me for a drink after work. After a short wait, she came back on the line. “I interrupted him and he said to meet him at the bar at the Hyatt at five thirty. He’s going to a dinner meeting down there tonight.”

  I punched in 5:30, Hyatt in the BlackBerry just as Catherine buzzed me.

  “That guy, the whisperer is on the line. I can hardly hear him. He says he’s got to speak to you.”

  “Okay, just what I need, another psycho,” I said as I pushed the button for the front phone line. “Mary Katz here. How can I help you?”

  “Ms. Katz. I have some information I think you’re looking for.”

  “Can you speak up a little? I can hardly hear you. I didn’t catch your name.” I realized I was talking louder to encourage him.

  “I can’t give you my name. I need to see you in person. It’s about Luis.”

  “When are you free to come to my office?”

  “I can’t come to your office. It’s too risky. We need to meet somewhere where no one will recognize me.”

  “I’d rather you’d come to my office. How do I know I’m not walking into a dangerous situation.”

  “You just have to trust me. Please, I want to help Luis.”

  “Well, I’m going to be at the Hyatt Hotel downtown this evening. Can you meet me in the parking garage by the elevator to the hotel?”

  “I could get there by seven.”

  “How will I recognize you?”

  “I’ll recognize you. I saw you on TV last night.”

  The line went dead. I realized my heart was pounding. I opened my desk drawer and pulled out Carlos’s gun. I slid it into my purse. I’d have to make William watch me from a distance in the garage, just in case he had to identify my body.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The bar at the Hyatt was noisy with the chatter of lawyers on their way to dinner, and convention goers on their way to who-knows-what. Somehow, when people come to meetings in Miami, they keep remembering the tourist slogan, “Miami, The Rules Are Different Here.” Ever since those TV ads, visitors test the theory by drinking too much, buying drugs, and/or having sexual hookups with just about anyone. Then they complain about the unsafe environment of the city. At least that’s what they tel
l their spouses back home in Kansas or Ohio, when they call home for bail money.

  I spotted William at a corner table holding onto the chair next to him so it wouldn’t get grabbed off by anyone. We exchanged hugs, and I plunked down in the chair. Two daiquiris were on the table.

  “To what do I owe this sudden yearning for a sibling get-together?” William asked.

  “A couple of things. Carlos is being sued by some of the buyers of his new condo project because he hasn’t met the closing date established in the contract. You’re the dirt lawyer, so I was hoping you could look over the contract and tell me if I’m on the right track. There’s an arbitration clause that says they can’t go to court, just to arbitration.”

  “Sure, I’ll be glad to look at it. These contracts can be tricky, so he may not be out of court entirely. The whole family really likes Carlos.”

  “Even Dad?”

  “Dad will never like anyone who steals his baby girl, but he recognizes how happy you two are together.”

  “Sure, when we’re not arguing. I really want to talk to you about something else. Please don’t think I’m not grateful for your gift of the BlackBerry. I’m starting to get very mellow with it, but I need to know where you bought it.”

  “Is it broken?”

  “No, it’s just that the day after I got it, before I even had a chance to use it, I got a nasty phone call. I didn’t think anyone even knew the number. I wouldn’t think much about it, but it seems to be part of some other threats I’ve been receiving.”

  “I got it at that electronic shop on Flagler Street right by the courthouse. I was thinking about how you needed it after I saw all those scraps of paper in your purse the last time we were at Mother and Dad’s. Someone in my office said they had some great bargains at that shop, so I went there. I guess they mainly do exports, but they do sell to the locals. The owner waited on me. He was very knowledgeable. When he heard what you’d be using it for, he went to a lot of trouble finding just the right model and features.”

 

‹ Prev