[Marc Kadella 02.0] Desperate Justice

by Dennis Carstens

  Catherine drove her Lexus into the public lot across the street from the restaurant, Marco Mangini’s, where she was to meet her friend, Ava Hammond. She crossed the street, entered the restaurant’s front door and told the pretty, young hostess that she was meeting a friend. Ava was already there and she had informed the hostess to look for Catherine and bring her to their table on the terrace. The women greeted each other with a slight hug and air kiss and took their seats by the wrought iron railing. Mangini’s was located across the Mississippi River from downtown Minneapolis in the area known as Riverfront. The table they had offered a beautiful view of the river, the downtown skyline and St. Anthony Falls.

  The waitress quickly appeared with the two glasses of Chardonnay Ava had ordered. She took their lunch orders of pasta salads and the two women silently sipped their wine, admiring the view from the patio. It was Ava who broke the silence first by asking Catherine the obvious questions about Gordon’s appointment. This seemed to open the floodgates and Catherine quietly, so as not to be heard by the other patrons, poured it all out for her friend and to completely vent how she was really feeling.

  They finished their drinks while Catherine talked and Ava listened, both fascinated and appalled. The waitress returned with their lunch orders which the women silently picked at while the server went for more wine.

  The waitress brought their second drinks, left and Ava asked, “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You have to tell him.”

  “Yes, I suppose.” Catherine sadly looked at Ava and sighed. “Right now, I just don’t care. It’s like: why bother?”

  “My God, Catherine,” Ava said as she reached across the table and took her friends hand. “What can I do to help you?” she asked as a tear trickled down her cheek. “Anything. Anything at all.”

  “I know,” Catherine answered. “I appreciate it and well, we’ll see. Let me think about it and I’ll let you know.”

  FORTY-EIGHT

  Bruce Dolan met with Conrad Hilton two days after he stole the DVDs from Leo’s office. The two of them spent several hours at Conrad’s home in his basement office going through all of the material they had captured from Leo’s computer and the DVDs. The next step would be to try out their scheme on one of the targets to see if it was going to work. The obvious first choice, the one the two blackmail conspirators had already decided upon, was the newly appointed soon-to-be senator, Gordon Prentiss. Dolan and Conrad copied the DVD of Prentiss’ escapades at Leo’s brothel then made a dozen prints of him in various situations, any of which would end his chance at the U.S. Senate.

  While they dickered back and forth, gently toying with the idea of how much to go for, Dolan’s phone went off. He looked at the screen and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw who it was. His number one client was calling. Leo had a minor legal problem for Dolan. In case the phone was tapped, in a coded and cryptic way, Leo told his lawyer that one of his drug couriers had been busted the previous night shortly after arriving at his home. The local cops, not the DEA, were waiting for him and had confiscated five kilos of cocaine the man had driven up from Kansas City. Leo wasn’t concerned about the drugs lost or the driver. The man busted could not be connected with Leo. He was concerned about how the cops had got on to the man and wanted Dolan to check it out.

  Clearly relieved, Dolan informed Leo he would have an associate lawyer get down to the jail and make sure Leo’s employee kept his mouth shut.

  When Leo started to protest that Dolan should handle it, the lawyer reminded him that the cops would believe Leo was involved if Dolan himself showed up. Best to let an underling handle it, to which Leo agreed. Dolan ended the call by telling him he would see him at the restaurant that evening with news which Leo took to mean news about Prentiss.

  Dolan cleared the security station at the government center then took an elevator on the court side up to the fourteenth floor. Having phoned ahead, Dolan knew Prentiss was in his chambers and was now waiting for him to arrive. Ever since the governor had told him of his decision, Prentiss had known and dreaded the meeting he was about to have with Leo’s lawyer. The judge wasn’t sure what Leo’s reaction would be and Prentiss had racked his brain trying to figure out what was coming. The best he came up with was Leo would like having a U.S. Senator in his pocket. Of course, to protect himself and further his personal fortunes, he was perfectly willing to fulfill that role.

  The judge’s clerk, Rhonda, knocked on his door, opened it and stood aside to allow Dolan to enter the chambers. Prentiss stayed seated behind his desk, a stack of files at his side that he was working through. Dolan walked quickly up to the place where Prentiss was seated, holding his right index finger to his lips to indicate to Prentiss to be silent. He handed Prentiss a note, which the judge unfolded and read:

  We need to talk but not here. Your chambers may be bugged.

  I’m not sure. Grab your coat, we’ll go outside. Don’t say a word.

  The two of them went out through the security doors and stood silently waiting for an elevator. The two men had a short wait until one arrived and when the doors opened the two of them looked directly at Marc Kadella. He was by himself, riding down from his afternoon tryst with Margaret Tennant.

  They greeted each other casually, not very sincerely and Marc congratulated Prentiss on his appointment. Prentiss did his best to act calmly despite the fact he did not want to be seen with Dolan at all and certainly not by a lawyer who knew them both.

  The elevator made two more stops on its downward journey and three more people got on. When it reached the second floor, Prentiss was the first one off and walked quickly to the south side escalators. Dolan, by contrast, waited for everyone else to get off, warmly said a goodbye to Marc and slowly walked off following Prentiss, who had not waited for him. Marc turned to go to the parking garage elevators still wondering what Dolan and Prentiss were up to.

  The government center straddles Sixth Street and takes up two square blocks in downtown Minneapolis. On the south side of the building, where Dolan and Prentiss were, is a grassy area with trees, walkways and park benches. Dolan caught up with Prentiss and the two men found an empty bench in the shade under a tree where they sat down to talk. Dolan placed his briefcase on the bench, opened it, removed a large manila envelope and handed it to Prentiss.

  Without a word having passed between them, Prentiss opened the envelope, removed the contents and studied the photos for a full minute. He put everything back in the envelope looked at Dolan and said, “I won’t discuss this with you here. I will meet you in the shallow end of the pool at the downtown YMCA between 2:00 and 2:30 this afternoon. Bring a bathing suit.”

  With that Prentiss abruptly stood up and while clutching the envelope walked quickly down the sidewalk toward the big granite building. Dolan sat watching the judge while wondering where Prentiss found the balls to act this way. He smiled to himself and decided to play along.

  Dolan, wearing only a modest swimsuit, walked out of the men’s locker room at the Y and strolled along the side of the pool toward the shallow end. He saw Prentiss waiting for him already in the water sitting on the floor of the pool, the water up to his chin. Dolan dropped into the pool next to Prentiss who looked up at him and told him to sit, which the lawyer did.

  “This is the only way I could be sure you aren’t recording me,” Prentiss said. “What do you want?”

  “This is a good idea, Judge,” Dolan said. “I should’ve thought of it myself.”

  “What does Leo want?”

  “I’m going to be really honest with you Gordon. Leo doesn’t know anything about this. If he did, he’d kill us both.”

  “What are you up to?” a clearly terrified Prentiss asked.

  “Relax, Gordon. I’m about to give you back your life. You see, everything Leo had on you, he no longer has. I have it. And I’m willing to sell it to you.”

  “Are you out of your mind? When he finds out…”


  “He won’t. Leo’s not nearly as smart as people think he is. Don’t worry about it. I can convince him of anything I want. Sit back down,” Dolan calmly added because Prentiss had stood up as if to leave.

  The judge sat down, looked at Dolan and said, “Assuming you can pull this off, how much?”

  “Well, Judge, what’s a senate seat worth? I figure a million bucks, easy.”

  “I don’t have that kind of money,” Prentiss said with an incredulous look. “I could get, maybe, half that from what little I have invested.”

  “When?” Dolan asked knowing this was probably true.

  “I don’t know,” Prentiss said looking nervously around. “At least a month.”

  Dolan laughed and said, “Three days. Call your broker or advisor or whomever you need to but liquidate your holdings and get me the cash. Oh, and I’ll want to see the investment statements,” he added as he stood and walked up the steps leading out of the pool.

  On Friday morning, shortly before 9:30, Prentiss saw his clerk leave her desk to go with friends for a morning break. Prentiss went to her desk to use her land line phone to call Bruce Dolan. He told Dolan he had the money and gave him an address of where they would meet. The address was for an office building in a suburb south of Minneapolis.

  Coincidentally, both men arrived at the place and pulled into the parking lot at the same time. They exchanged a brief greeting as Dolan looked down at the large briefcase Prentiss was carrying. The lawyer had never been here before, but the judge had spent time there the day before making arrangements for the exchange.

  They went into the office Prentiss had indicated and were greeted by a short, balding, slightly overweight man with suspenders clipped onto his jeans and stretched over his protruding belly and knit shirt. He led them into a backroom where a card table, two folding chairs and an expensive video camera were set up. The camera was approximately ten feet away from the table and chairs. The camera was pre-focused on them per the judge’s instruction.

  Harvey, the photo studio owner, clipped microphones to the shirt collar of both men and handed the cameras remote control device to Prentiss. He showed Prentiss again, how to operate it and then Harvey quickly left the room.

  Prentiss pushed the record button for the camera just as Dolan said, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “We’re going to record our deal, Bruce. Each of us will then get a copy of the DVD and we will then have the evidence to hold over each other’s head. This is going to be a one-time transaction. I know you have more copies of that material you gave me and I will not have you coming back for more money.”

  Dolan silently thought about it, disappointed that Prentiss had out maneuvered him and effectively taken away any future dealings. On the other hand if he had even a half a million in the briefcase, Dolan figured he was off to a good start. He also realized he could use this same stunt to pay Conrad a fraction of what he said he would.

  ‘MAD, Mutually Assured Destruction,” Dolan finally said.

  “Precisely. We both hold the DVDs over each other’s heads. Anything goes wrong and Leo and the police both get a package in the mail.”

  The two of them spent the next twenty minutes explaining every detail of their business dealings into the camera. Satisfied that everything was covered, Prentiss removed the disk, placed it in a player attached to a TV on a table along one wall and played it. They watched the replay and when finished, Prentiss found Harvey. He made a single copy while both men watched. Each took a disk; Dolan took the briefcase and they left.

  Late that night when he believed Catherine was in bed, Prentiss went into his den and retrieved the manila envelope from his desk. He turned on the television and placed the DVD in the player. He spent the next hour watching a porn movie starring himself while drinking vodka and ice with the envelope’s still pictures sprawled across his desk. Because he had the sound turned up, he didn’t hear the knock on the door and the TV was still going when Catherine opened it.

  “The TV is too loud,” she said standing in the doorway in her nightgown. “It woke me up. What are you watching?” she asked as Prentiss scrambled to stop the disk, gather the photos and shove them in a desk drawer.

  “None of your business. Now close the door and leave.”

  “Please turn the sound down,” she politely said knowing perfectly well he was watching some kind of porn movie. “Good night,” she said as she turned and slid the door closed when she left.

  FORTY-NINE

  Bruce Dolan sat in his Cadillac facing the back door of the restaurant that led directly to Leo’s office. It was slightly past 9:00 P.M. and the sun was starting to set. The simple truth was that Dolan was scared. This was his first time back since his early morning entry a few days ago when he stole the DVDs and he was not looking forward to seeing Leo. People like Leo, human predators, could sense fear and if he saw it in Dolan, he would know something was wrong. If or when he discovered the missing disks and files from his computer, he might decide Dolan knew what happened. Even if Dolan had no knowledge of it, an interrogation by Leo would make what was done to mass murderers at Gitmo seem pleasant.

  Dolan had parked in a spot thirty feet from the door, but the security cameras covered where he parked and recorded him. Leo might ask what he was doing so Dolan was holding a phone to his ear pretending to be on a call. He sat like this for about twenty minutes, during which the sun finished setting and he finally got up the courage to go inside and face Leo.

  Dolan exited the car, walked up to the back door, pushed the button for the bell and looked up at the camera. A moment later he heard the buzzing of the lock as it became disengaged. He opened the door and to his horror saw Leo sitting at his desk, staring at the screen and profusely cursing under his breath. Ike Pitts was standing behind Leo and looking over his shoulder. When Dolan entered, Ike turned to him and Dolan saw a red-faced, obviously furious Ike Pitts.

  “What’s wrong?” the lawyer asked doing his best to sound concerned.

  Leo swiveled his chair around to face Dolan and said, “What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” a clearly angry Leo Balkus answered him. “There are files and the matching DVDs of those files missing from my computer and file cabinet. Somebody’s been in here and hacked it or whatever you call it and cleaned out some of my files. That’s what’s wrong.” He stood up and began pacing around the office, obviously seriously aggravated. Leo stomped around, flexing and un-flexing his fists, taking deep breaths while staring at the floor and quietly cursing.

  Dolan and Ike silently watched him pace for a full minute and then Dolan said, “What exactly is missing?”

  “My videos from the whore house!” Leo yelled. “The one’s I need to keep people in line!”

  “Okay, Leo. Okay,” Dolan quietly said hoping to calm him down. “Is it all gone? Who could have done…?”

  “That little weasel tech guy, what’s-his-name, Andy. Go get him,” Leo said looking at Ike. “Find his ass and bring him to the warehouse. Call me when you find him.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to know…?” Ike tried to ask.

  “I don’t know, and I don’t care! Do something useful and find him! Now!”

  Without another word, Ike went out the back door to begin his search. Dolan walked around the desk and sat down on the couch hiding his relief that Leo was in a rage at someone else.

  “When I get my hands on that little junkie cockroach I’ll …”

  “Stop! Don’t say another word,” Dolan said. “I don’t want to hear what you’ll do to him.”

  Leo stopped pacing, looked at his lawyer and said, “When did you get so squeamish, Bruce?”

  “Calm down, Leo. You’ll give yourself a heart attack,” which wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen, Dolan thought to himself. “Tell me what happened.”

  Leo took a chair opposite Dolan who remained seated on the couch. He quickly told his lawyer what he had discovered or, more accurately, what Ike had found. Ike was going to in
dulge his voyeurism and the first file he opened was empty. Ike told Leo what he found and Leo had then gone through all of the files and DVDs and found a total of eight that were emptied. Eight of the most useful and prominent ones he had.

  When he finished telling Dolan about the theft, Dolan asked him if he had gone over the security videos. Leo told him Johnny Czernak was doing that now but so far had not found anything.

  “Let me get you something to drink,” Dolan said as he rose from the couch and walked toward the door. He went out into the bar, flagged down one of the bartenders and ordered drinks for himself and Leo. While they were being prepared, Dolan took a moment to calm his breathing, wipe his brow and gather his thoughts.

  When he went back into the office, he handed Leo his scotch and soda and sat back down on the couch. He then asked Leo, “Is Prentiss one of the missing files?”

  “Yeah, he is,” Leo replied.

  “How are you going to keep him from going to Washington, now?”

  “Oh, I know how. If you really want someone to cooperate, there’s a trick I learned a long time ago. Go after his family. Don’t worry, he’ll get the message.”

  The next night about 10:30, Leo walked into the office of the warehouse complex he owned in Arden Hills. He passed through the dimly lit office, through a door and into a small room off the main floor of the space Leo reserved for his own business purposes. The forty thousand square foot complex had been deeded over to him several years ago in payment of a gambling debt owed to him by its former owner. Leo had kept four thousand square feet for his own use and leased the rest of it for rent which helped make his tax returns look good.

  In the room were Ike, Johnny and Leo’s tech guy, Andy Somers. Andy was tied to a chair while Ike and Johnny stood by watching.

  Leo walked over to the mumbling, incoherent Andy, lifted his chin with one hand and looked into Andy’s dilated, unfocused eyes.