The Price of Candy sr-2

by Rod Hoisington

  “But I didn’t lift a finger! How can you prove I ever talked to Abby about murdering Banks?”

  “Admittedly, some parts will be circumstantial. You see, you’ll be useful to me in convicting her. The jury will see that you both have the powerful motive of revenge. I’ll encourage the jury to imagine what you two scheming females talked about. The more you deny it on the stand the guiltier you’ll look.”

  “So, you’re going to call me and Detective Pomar as witnesses to the shooting of Banks that Abby is charged with. And in the next breath charge me with conspiring in the shooting I tried to stop. If I was involved in the plan to shoot him, why did I take Pomar there?”

  “You call that a defense? Go back to your law books and stop bothering me.”

  She exchanged a glance with Kagan then said, “Let’s get serious, Mr. Moran. I’ll tell you what I know and you can then decide whether to drop the charge. I won’t sign anything or swear to anything unless you drop the charge. Can I do that, Jerry?”

  “We can stipulate that.”

  “I don’t think I’m interested. But if you want to provide me with all the information, I’ll be happy to use it.”

  “It’ll knock your socks off, Moran. You’ll definitely get big headlines out of it. Once you drop the charge, I’ll cooperate fully.”

  “You’ve no choice but to cooperate fully whether or not I drop the charges or you’ll go to jail.”

  “I’ll take the Fifth. Without me all you’ve got is three cases of hearsay.”

  “You must be pretty confident I’ll end up dropping the charge.”

  “We both know I had nothing to do with the accidental shooting of Banks. I realize you think you need the conspiracy angle to assure a second-degree murder charge against Abby. But you don’t. I’ll testify she yelled out Toby’s name before she discovered that she in fact shot Banks. If she thought it was Toby, that’s at least attempted murder. Plus you have at least manslaughter for shooting Banks, perhaps even second degree if she enticed him down here. That’s two charges against Abby and I’m going to give a solid third that’s even better.”

  Kagan said, “I’m reluctant to give the honorable state attorney advice, but all you need do is prove Abby attempted to murder Toby. Her accidental shooting of Banks then becomes a felony murder occurring during the commission of the crime—the crime of attempting to murder Toby. Much more serious than mere manslaughter.”

  “Wow! Very good, Jerry. Felony murder, I hadn’t thought of that. It was in my textbook, someone dies during the commission of a crime, and you can get twenty-five years to life. I bet you didn’t think of that, Mr. Moran.”

  “Of course, I did.” Moran was annoyed. “You two should take this show on the road.”

  She continued, “Plus I’m about to give you a third charge against Abby Olin.”

  “I can’t wait,” Moran muttered and rolled his eyes.

  That did it. She visualized moving her arm in one wide sweep clearing his desk of phone, framed photo, Rolodex, coffee cup—everything onto the floor. Instead, she stood and pointed at Moran. “Look Buster! I’ve been running around developing the solid evidence you need to prosecute. If you were smart instead of vindictive, you’d start listening. You’re sitting there with that supercilious smirk on your face making sarcastic comments while I’m handing you the solution to three of your problems on a silver platter. If I had my way, I wouldn’t lift my little finger to save you from burning in hell. You don’t even know where to look for your first clue. As of right now, I’m taking the Fifth. All you’ll ever get is hearsay because you’re getting nada from me.”

  Moran's face turned red. He pushed back from his desk and loosen his collar.

  Kagan jumped up. “Sit down and be quiet, Miss Reid! Larry, please ignore my client. She doesn’t understand how these things work. She misconstrued your demeanor. You’ve every right to be skeptical. She was anticipating you’d reject our offer. The fact is you haven’t turned us down yet. I’m certain you intend to consider fairly everything we have to offer. I’m sure she’ll apologize as soon as she cools off.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “Okay, I’ll listen. No promises. Miss Smartass you’re on.” He moved his chair back up to the desk. “What are the three cases in which you’re going to be my savior?”

  “I don’t know why I’m going along with this. Without me you’ve got zilch.” She stared him straight in the eye. Kagan reached over and placed his hand on her arm. “Okay. First, money was Abby’s motive for attempting to shoot Toby Towalski. I can prove that motive and it’s strong enough to convict her of attempted murder, which is what you need to convict her of felony murder. That’s one case. Second, the money involved was the result of blackmail of a prominent politician. So you’ll definitely be able to charge her also with attempted blackmail. And the third case is—you’re going to love this in spite of it coming from me—your old Privado beach body case.”

  “What prominent politician?”

  “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

  “What old beach body case—you mean the naked stripper? God, I’d forgotten that case was still open. Good grief, don’t tell me Sandra Reid is involved in that case as well.”

  “One more thing, Moran. Don’t count on me ever apologizing to you. Are we through here?”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  One week after giving State Attorney Moran her formal statement, Sandy remained under arrest, although out of custody. Uncertain of her fate. She had hesitantly disclosed the valuable information she had developed to fulfill her side of the bargain with Moran. However, there was no action from him in return regarding dropping the charges against her. He now claimed she had misunderstood. He had never agreed to such a bargain, he said, merely agreed to listen to what she had to offer and then decide.

  Abby Olin had also given her statement to Moran and he guarded the contents tightly. Nevertheless, a former girl friend of Chip’s, who worked at the courthouse, gave him the gist of the statement confidentially. It was critically unfavorable to Sandy.

  According to the statement, Abby would testify Sandy was fanatical about Banks. That Sandy was once his favorite plaything at the juvenile rehab facility, but he had scorned her. She had taken an oath to pay him back. She was going to get him whatever it took. She had encouraged Abby to entice Banks to Florida, even gave Abby his current address. She could even provide Abby a gun if needed. They had discussed various plans. It was Abby’s duty as a feminist sister to fight together against all men for women’s rights. According to Abby’s statement, Sandy would get agitated to the point of shaking physically when talking about the subject.

  Sandy met with Jerry Kagan in his office when they learned of Abby’s statement. “All that, Jerry, plus that damn incriminating file they found on my laptop can also be interpreted to support such a scheme. Several times, I put down I was going to get him. Of course, I meant legally after I became a lawyer.”

  “You could land back in jail at any time. He now has enough to go back before the judge and have your bail rescinded.”

  “I wondered about that, Jerry. Why hasn’t he put me back in jail? I’m a co-conspirator to second-degree murder. Why am I out running around?”

  “The question really is why doesn’t he want Abby in jail?”

  “That’s right. If he denies me bail, then he must also deny Abby bail. Do you think he’s made some kind of deal with her? He’s keeping her out of jail in return for...something?”

  “He’s up to something. You really ticked him off the other day, Sandy. It’s not in your best interest to keep doing that. He who has the power makes the rules.”

  “I know, sometimes I just can’t resist. But right now, I’m playing it straight and he’s dirty dealing. He accepted and is using all that significant information I gave him. But he’s not giving me anything in return. He has me on a hook. How do I get off?”

  “I’m not certain what his game is unless he’s unsure of what to charge
Abby with. In any case, he has nothing to lose by keeping you waiting.”

  “You’re being too kind. He’s a bastard and he’s stringing me out to get back at me. He knows he’s thrown my life into limbo.”

  In the deposition Sandy gave Moran under oath, she reluctantly disclosed the involvement of Congressman Kidde in the beach body affair. The disclosure was inevitable. In spite of Freddy asking her to keep it all quiet, she had no choice but to reveal his name when questioned by the state attorney. Revealing the blackmail scheme led to answering who was being blackmailed, and this led to explaining the reason for the blackmail. That identified Kidde and placed him right on the beach with the dead stripper. It put on view his leaving the scene and failure to come forward the next day with what he knew. She had warned Kidde all this could happen if he didn’t come forward voluntarily and preempt any disclosure.

  In her statement to Moran, she mentioned that Kidde told her he’d simply given the stranded girl a ride. She didn’t elaborate further. There remained a slight chance that the full details of the saga of the unattainable Betty Jo and the obsessed Freddy could stay hidden. That much, at least, would certainly be to his benefit. Perhaps, she thought, she’d write a book about it someday.

  Moran wasn’t totally convinced that Sandy was being truthful, that she had all her facts straight, and was making the correct assumptions about what she had learned. The deconstruction of Congressman Frederick J. Kidde started when Moran, unconvinced of Kidde’s involvement, decided to follow up and verify what Sandy had disclosed.

  He innocently invited Freddy Kidde and his attorney to Park Beach for an informal conference. When Kidde and his attorney arrived quietly at the rear entrance of the courthouse, they suffered incredibly bad luck. Renaldo Gitano a reporter from the Gretchen Henson show on CNN was there with a cameraman to greet them. Gitano was the same TV reporter who happened to have covered the Privado beach body affair back when it was first news in November. Some blogger had tipped off Gitano to a possible link between Kidde and the old Privado Beach affair.

  The consequences were inevitable. The national news media rehashed the entire affair. They dug out, edited, and reedited old TV file film to create fresh breaking news: What had happened on that beach that night? Who was the woman? Who mistreated her dead body?

  Now the media also enjoyed the added bombshell of blackmail. Allegedly, the congressman paid to cover up his involvement. In addition, as if any icing was necessary on that, someone had murdered the alleged blackmailer. Any part of it was dream-come-true stuff for the media.

  Within seventy-two hours, there were no hotel rooms available within a hundred miles of Park Beach. The satellite TV trucks seemed evenly divided between the courthouse and the Freddy Kidde residence in Jensen Beach. The scandal held Breaking News status on TV for weeks. Reporters approached everyone within eyesight asking for their opinion.

  The media got out the drums and brass bands quickly and the circus paraded into Park Beach. Although State Attorney Moran would later plead that he had no interest in investigating Kidde, at the time it seemed in his best interest not to clarify the situation, but just get out in front of the parade.

  The media inundated Moran with interview requests. The national news ran his photo along with Kidde’s each night. They looped it all again on cable news and the Internet for days. Moran started giving briefings on the courthouse steps. He loved it. He’d hit the publicity lottery. His political ambition of running for the Senate from Florida now seemed within reach. Privado Beach has punched Moran’s ticket to ride. Although strutting on the media stage he never exactly stated what he was taking credit for.

  Kagan commented, “Do you notice, Sandy, his briefings never contain any new information? He keeps saying he’d love to say more, but unfortunately he can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

  “Sure, and leaving everything open to speculation is exactly what the media wants. They can fill in the blanks with sensational guesswork.”

  “Contrary to those reports, Sandy, I believe Moran has no interest in prosecuting Freddy Kidde for anything. It’s clear from what you’ve told me, Kidde was on the beach when the woman choked, but there was no crime there. My sources tell me the police have filled in the name Toby Towalski and closed the case. So they’re not going to get Kidde on that.”

  “So, the solitary thing left is failing to report the death. That’s so minor it’s ridiculous,” she added. “So where’s he going with all this. Why is he keeping Kidde and me hanging?”

  “He needs your testimony. He needs to prove Abby intended to shoot Toby. She wanted him out of the way for the money. So, Kidde testifies Abby told him Toby was out of the picture. And you testify she yelled his name as she fired. Once all that is established he’s got Abby nailed for the felony murder of Bruce Banks.”

  “But I’ve already agreed to testify and cooperate with the deposition. Moran just wants to strut and fret his hour upon the stage.”

  “I know, it isn’t fair, but he could keep you hanging until Abby’s trial.”

  “Her goddamn trial might not be for two or three years. And the Florida bar exam is in July!”

  Silence.

  “Wait a minute, that’s it. Moran has the power to keep me from becoming a lawyer.” She was stunned. “I can’t be licensed, probably can’t even take the bar exam, while I’m under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder. That’s what’s behind this.”

  “That’s what I call wicked retribution. He gets back at you and has the last laugh. He has you trapped and no reason to set you free.”

  “I have to find a reason for him to set me free.”

  “You have another problem to worry about.”

  “My entire career might be on hold for three years. Nothing could be as bad as that. Oh, you mean finding Jamie, or my love life?”

  “Something else came up. You are being sued for the wrongful death of Bruce Banks.”

  “Me? You’re crazy! You just explained why Moran has to drop the phony charge against me eventually. Wrongful death actions are civil not criminal. Who the hell cares anyway if creepy Banks comes down here sniffing around Abby and gets himself accidentally shot?”

  “Apparently his widow.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  “She’s retained Martin Bronner, a local attorney, and he phoned me today. They’re meeting with Moran tomorrow morning and then coming to my office to see us.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Juanita Banks was small and neat and could have been a pretty package; perhaps under other circumstances she would have been. She was merely a couple hundred dollars away from a contemporary hairstyle, newer clothing, and those indescribable extras that can bring women out of the shadows. Apparently, she didn’t have the money for enhancement of any kind. She did have a great smile. Which she offered to Jerry Kagan but not to Sandy.

  They were standing around the long table that together with eight sturdy oak chairs took up the majority of the space in Kagan’s small conference room. Just enough space in the room to accommodate the principals in a real estate closing or a few nervous heirs for the reading of a will. A side door led to Kagan’s adjoining office, and the other door opened out to the front reception area where Sandy’s ancient desk and squeaky chair were positioned. It was a suite of three small rooms adequate for no more than a solo practitioner. The office had sufficed for Kagan for over fifty years. He had purchased the entire building years ago with the large fee he’d received from a successful wrongful death suit. Consequently, he had no landlord and no rent to pay. A life-saving financial situation that had made all the difference during his many lean years.

  Kagan stood at the head of the table. “Martin Bronner, I’d like to introduce Sandra Reid.”

  “How do you do?” Bronner stood stiffly with feet together and made a very nice bow. He didn’t offer his hand across the table. That part was okay with Sandy. She nodded and smiled politely.

  “Miss Reid, this is Mrs. Banks, J
uanita Banks.”

  “How do you do? Mrs. Banks, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Juanita Banks didn’t nod and didn’t raise her head to look at Sandy.

  “Okay. Please be seated. Everyone get comfortable.” Kagan settled in and continued, “Welcome Mrs. Banks, nice to meet you, but I’m sure Mr. Bronner explained that it isn't necessary for you to be here to Florida in person. He can easily pursue this civil action for you by mail. Mainly a file of legal papers passing back and forth. Important papers to be sure, but nothing that can’t be handled by mail to you in Delaware. You may not even have to appear in court.”

  “I took the bus. I’ll drive Bruce’s pickup back up to Delaware. How soon can I get the money?” Her slightly accented voice was weak and uncertain. This wasn’t her type of meeting.

  “I tried to explain things to her, Jerry,” Bronner said.

  Martin Bronner was half Kagan’s age. Early forties perhaps. Well-dressed to the extreme, right down to the precisely folded suit pocket square which matched his soft blue tie. Sandy thought he appeared far too elegant for a law office in south Florida. She imagined her grandmother referring to him as a “dandy.”

  Mrs. Banks said, “I need to take the money back as soon as possible.”

  Sandy looked at Kagan with wide eyes. Kagan looked at Bronner with a frown. Bronner looked at Juanita Banks with an open but silent mouth.

  “Don't you people understand? My husband’s dead at forty leaving me with three children to take care of and no money.”

  Bronner didn’t know what to say.

  “We have bills to pay—I’m not embarrassed to say that—everyone has bills to pay. My husband had a small insurance policy from his job. I used all of it to ship his body up there and for the funeral expense. He won’t be bringing any more money home now will he?”