by Parnell Hall
Becky jerked her thumb at the desk. “Mind if I use your phone?”
“Be my guest.”
Becky called the courthouse. “Judge Hobbs?… Really? Well, could you have him call me. I wanna post bail for Melvin Crabtree.”
Chapter
21
Becky found Cora hanging around outside Cushman’s Bake Shop with a latte and a scone.
“Second of the day?” Becky said.
“Third, but who’s counting. Of course, my day started at three in the morning.”
“Right.”
“What are you so upset about?”
“Does it show?”
“You look like you caught your boyfriend in bed with twin Pilates instructors.”
“That happened to you?”
“They might not have been twins. So what’s wrong?”
“Melvin didn’t like the decedent.”
“Of course not. He’s male. Did he know him?”
“They had an argument in a bar.”
“Let me guess.”
“That’s right. Over a girl. The waitress, no less. There were many witnesses to the altercation.”
“If Melvin killed every guy he fought with over a girl, it would alter the census.”
“He also broke his nose.”
“Same fight?”
“No, and there’s witnesses to that, too.
“Par for the course. What else have they got?”
“That’s the thing. I have no idea. But it must be something, because I can’t get him released.”
“What?”
“Henry Firth is insisting on a bail hearing. Judge Hobbs is out to lunch, so I can’t get Melvin out.”
“What’s that all about?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. Usually it’s a courtesy thing. I ask that he be released on his own recognizance, and Henry says okay because he knows I’ll make sure he shows up. Even so, we ought to be able to agree to a number, I’d post it, and that would be that. But Henry doesn’t even want to talk to me. He says take it to court, and Judge Hobbs is out to lunch. What do you think that means?”
“He probably was hungry.”
“They gotta have something more to prove it than the fact Johnny Dawson didn’t.”
“Melvin’s a loudmouth. You have no idea what he said in that bar.”
“I can imagine, but I’m not happy. This is strange behavior, even for Henry Firth. Picking Melvin up is one thing. Charging him is another. Charging him and haggling over bail is damn near unprecedented. We gotta go in front of the judge, the media’s in town, and the bail hearing will get reported. If the cops don’t have anything, Henry Firth is going to be very red in the face.”
“Ah. The Case of the Red-Faced Rat. Sounds like a Perry Mason mystery.”
Becky’s cell phone rang. She clicked it on. “Hello?… Oh, hi, Henry … I’d like that, but Judge Hobbs is out to lunch. Is this really necessary? I mean, how much are you asking?… I’m not asking you to show your hand. What the hell does that mean? Fine. See you then.”
Becky clicked the phone off in disgust.
“What’s the score?” Cora said.
“We have a bail hearing at three.”
“Three?”
“Yeah.”
“Just in time for all the news outlets to be alerted.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s strange,” Cora said. “It’s almost like he wants the news outlets to be alerted.”
“It sure is.”
Chapter
22
Judge Hobbs surveyed the crowded courtroom with displeasure. “This is a simple bail hearing. There is no reason for anyone to be here.”
“I’m willing to go, Your Honor,” Melvin said brightly.
“So I understand. Let’s see if we can accommodate you. Mr. Prosecutor, what do we have here?”
“This is Melvin Crabtree, charged with homicide in the stabbing death of Fred Winkler. The State is asking that bail be denied and the defendant be remanded to custody.”
Becky’s mouth fell open. “Your Honor, that’s outrageous. I’ve never heard of such a thing. The prosecution has no reason to hold my client. I ask that he be released on his own recognizance.”
“Those would appear to be opposing points of view,” Judge Hobbs said dryly. “Have opposing counsel attempted to effect a compromise?”
“Opposing counsel didn’t want to talk about it and demanded a bail hearing. I didn’t realize they were intending highway robbery.”
“That will do, Ms. Baldwin. I realize there are spectators in the courtroom. Please don’t play to them.”
“Yes, Your Honor. But I was prepared for a bail hearing, not an ambush. The prosecutor gave no indication he intended to push for no bail.”
“I thought you hadn’t discussed this with the prosecutor.”
“Exactly, Your Honor. I tried to discuss it with him and was told he wanted a bail hearing. Until I got here, I had no idea why.”
“Well, now we do. Let’s get on with it. Mr. Firth, why are you pushing for no bail?”
“The defendant is a flight risk, Your Honor. He is not a resident of Bakerhaven. He is not even a resident of Connecticut. If he is released on bail, there is every reason to believe he will leave the state, if not the country.”
“Nonsense, Your Honor. It’s not as if Mr. Crabtree has no ties to the community. He is employed by the real estate broker Judy Douglas Knauer, and he is the ex-husband of Cora Felton, a longtime Bakerhaven resident. Moreover, he has nothing to fear from prosecution, as the charges against him are groundless. He has no incentive to run.”
“Not so, Your Honor. Mr. Crabtree had a personal animosity against the victim. Witnesses can attest to two separate physical encounters within the last week, one in a roadside bar and one outside the motel where he and the victim both were staying. In one instance, Mr. Crabtree broke the decedent’s nose, and the only thing that kept him from doing more serious bodily harm was the fact that other people intervened.”
“It’s a far cry from a barroom brawl to stabbing a man in cold blood,” Becky said. “If the prosecutor would like to amend the charge to drunk and disorderly, I’m sure we could work something out.”
Judge Hobbs put up his hand. “No need to respond, Mr. Firth. The court takes judicial cognizance of your unwillingness to amend.”
“I hope the court also takes judicial cognizance of the fact the level of proof offered by the county prosecutor is insufficient to even charge my client with murder, let alone ask that he be held without bail.”
“I quite agree,” Henry Firth said. “And if that was all I had we would not be standing here. But Your Honor will recall issuing a search warrant earlier today. Following up on that warrant, Officer Dan Finley of the Bakerhaven police department inspected the rental car of the defendant, which he located in the parking lot of the Country Kitchen restaurant. The search uncovered a hunting knife stained with blood. Preliminary tests show the blood to be the same type as the decedent’s, and DNA tests are under way to prove that it is indeed blood from the victim. In light of such incontrovertible evidence, I find it highly likely the defendant might attempt to flee.”
Rick Reed filmed gleefully as the court went wild.
Chapter
23
Judge Hobbs nearly broke his gavel pounding for order. Finally he gave up and ordered the courtroom cleared. It took some time. No one was prepared for trouble at a simple bail hearing, but Dan Finley and Sam Brogan leapt into the breach, assisting the court officer in carrying out the judge’s instructions.
When order was finally restored, Becky Baldwin said, “Your Honor, I strongly object to these wildly inflammatory statements on the part of the prosecutor, remarks that would seem aimed solely for the media.”
“You said the defendant had no reason to flee,” Henry Firth said. “I was merely refuting your statement.”
“In the most inflammatory language possible.”
“You’re not objecting to the facts, just the way they were presented?”
Judge Hobbs banged the gavel. “That will do.”
“I would point out this is not a probable cause hearing, we are merely requesting bail,” Becky said.
“That’s because we have probable cause, Your Honor,” Henry Firth said. “If we did not, opposing counsel would be jumping up and down insisting on a probable cause hearing.”
“Be that as it may,” Judge Hobbs said. “The court is inclined to schedule a probable cause hearing when the results of the DNA test are in. In light of the current situation, I find the defendant has sufficient motivation to fear prosecution.”
“Oh, Your Honor,” Becky said.
Judge Hobbs waved her down. “On the other hand, to keep him incarcerated pending the results of such tests would be considered harsh. These things drag on, despite how much one attempts to expedite them. All that is necessary here is to assure that the defendant show up for trial. I therefore set bail in the amount of five hundred thousand dollars.”
Becky nearly gagged. “A half a million dollars, Your Honor? Where do you expect the defendant to come up with that type of money? Even a bail bond would cost my client fifty thousand dollars. And that’s not refundable. Why should a man be forced to pay that type of money to get out of jail for a crime he didn’t commit?”
“You make it sound like I’m binding him over on a whim. The alleged murder weapon was found in your client’s car. That is hardly the fault of the court.”
“If it was placed there by someone else, it is hardly the fault of my client. The decedent’s quote ‘friends’ unquote were aware of the hostility between the two men. If one of them found himself in possession of a bloody knife, what better place to dispose of it than the defendant’s car?”
“This is not the time to argue the merits of the case,” Judge Hobbs said. “We are merely setting bail.”
“Bail is not meant to be punitive. It is only to assure the defendant shows up in court.”
“You need not lecture me on bail.”
“I can’t post bail for my client in such a staggering amount, and I can’t let him remain in jail.”
“I can post bail, Your Honor,” Melvin said.
Becky stared at him.
Judge Hobbs was so startled he didn’t even comment on the irregularity of the interruption. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’ll post bail. The full amount, not a bail bond. Then there’s no problem with me forfeiting ten percent. Unless the court takes a ten percent service charge.”
Judge Hobbs’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re joking, you are out of line. If you’re not joking, you are in contempt. Cash bail will be returned in full, as you well know. You claim you can post it?”
“I don’t have a half a million on me, Your Honor. Will the court take a check?”
“A certified check would be fine. The defendant is remanded to custody until he has posted bail.”
“Your Honor,” Melvin said. “We seem to be getting into a catch-22 situation here. I can’t arrange for the check if I’m in jail.”
Judge Hobbs glared at the prisoner. “You seem to be having too much fun. This is a serious matter and a very serious charge.”
“I understand, Your Honor.”
“The defendant is remanded into custody pending bail.”
Judge Hobbs banged the gavel and stalked out of court.
Chapter
24
“You can post a half a million dollars’ bail?”
“Well, I don’t want to stay in jail.”
“Where did you get that kind of money?”
“I don’t believe that’s relevant to the current situation.”
“If the money was illegally obtained, it certainly is. If I knowingly post bond with tainted money, I am liable to prosecution.”
“Don’t do it, then.”
“Don’t post bail?”
“Don’t knowingly post tainted money. You don’t know my money’s tainted. I don’t see what the problem is.”
Cora bustled up. “Where the hell did you get half a million dollars?”
Melvin grinned. “Hi, Cora.”
“Were you just showing off? Judge Hobbs isn’t going to find it very funny. He takes a dim view of people who make a mockery of his court.”
“I know. I’ve seen you in action.”
“I didn’t mean me. He likes me.”
Becky coughed discreetly.
Dan Finley appeared at Melvin’s elbow. “Okay, let’s go. If you promise not to run, we can forgo the handcuffs. They make phoning and check writing rather difficult.”
“Ladies, you wanna lecture me later? Right now I’m at the mercy of the court. I’ll drop by your office once I’ve posted bail. Maybe I can take you out to dinner.”
“She’s not interested, Melvin,” Cora said.
“I can speak for myself,” Becky said.
“You tell her,” Melvin said. “No reason to miss dinner just because she’s jealous.”
“I’m not jealous, Melvin. I’m just looking out for a friend.”
“I love it when you girls fight over me. Well, see you soon.”
Dan Finley led Melvin away.
“You think he’s really got it?” Becky said.
“Not unless he knocked off a bank.”
“What if he posts bail with stolen money?”
“You’ll be in the clear because you didn’t know it. The point isn’t whether the money’s tainted. The point is whether he has it.”
“Why?”
“He pays me alimony. Never mind he’s often late. If he’s got a bunch of money he’s been concealing, we should go back to court.”
“For God’s sakes, Cora. The man’s accused of murder and you want to hit him with an alimony suit?”
“Why not? He didn’t kill anyone, but he sure cheated on his wife. I’d have gotten a lot bigger bucks if he hadn’t pleaded hardship. It’s tough to plead hardship with half a million bucks. How long do you think it will take him to post bail?”
“Might be a little while.”
“And then he’s going up to your office?”
“That’s what he said. Why, you wanna be there?”
“Hell, no.”
Chapter
25
Cora pulled into the Stop & Shop out at the mall and drove around to the back. She was in luck. A bunch of cardboard boxes in fairly good condition were lying next to the Dumpster. She took half a dozen of the cleaner ones, threw them in the backseat of her Toyota, and drove out to the motel. She grabbed one of the boxes as a prop and went up to the office.
Cora adopted what she felt was an appropriately subdued tone. “Hi. I’m here to pack up the decedent.”
The manager was glad to see her. Cora figured he would be. With the construction crews in town, he was short on space and happy to get the room back. He didn’t even ask her who authorized her to pack up, which was a good thing since no one had. She just needed an excuse to go to the motel.
“Guy’s roommate moved out,” the manager said. “That’s never good. With two guys, one of them will usually pay. But when one moves out, you don’t know if he’s the money man or just along for the free ride.”
“Don’t they pay in advance?”
“They do, a week at a time. At the end of a week they have to go or pay. With a rented room, if a guy wants to be a jerk, it’s bad.”
“What do you do?”
“Wait till he goes out, then change the lock.”
“Sounds effective.”
“It is. But it’s hard to check in guests while a tenant is throwing a fit. You lock someone out, he’s apt to say a few unkind things about the motel.”
“I can imagine,” Cora said.
“Anyway, the guy’s dead, and I lose the money. And the guy who killed him was staying here, too, so now I’m out two rentals.”
“The other guy didn’t kill him. His lawyer’s getting him released now.”
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“He’ll be coming back? That might not be good for business. What if his friends make trouble?”
“You know Fred Winkler’s friends?”
“I don’t know ’em. They rent rooms. Nothing wrong with that, as long as there’s no trouble. With their friend gone, there’ll be less.”
“Fred Winkler was a troublemaker?”
“I heard there was an altercation. I didn’t see it, but I heard.”
“Well, I’ll get his things out for you. You got a passkey?”
“I can’t give you that, but I can open the door. Just don’t lock yourself out until you leave.”
It didn’t take long to pack up Fred Winkler’s things. The man had been traveling with a single suitcase. Cora plopped it on the bed, filled it with the clean clothes from the dresser drawers and the dirty clothes that were scattered willy-nilly around the room.
Everything else she threw in the cardboard box. There were toiletries from the bathroom, a girlie mag from the bedside table, and a collection of beer bottles, mostly empty. Cora left them for the maid.
The ashtrays were clean. Whatever vices he might have had, Fred Winkler did not smoke. There was no motel safe. Everything Fred Winkler had was out in the open.
He had a backpack with a few incidentals. A Swiss Army knife, opposed to the hunting knife that killed him. A spiral notebook, some pencils with broken points, some ballpoint pens, sixty-seven cents in change, and a couple of pills of dubious origin: one, a green-and-white capsule that had half the powder missing; the other a white tablet covered with dust and hair.
There was a windbreaker hanging in the closet. Cora crammed it and the backpack into the cardboard box.
Leaving the door to the unit wide open, Cora carried the box and the suitcase out to the car, stashed them on the backseat, and walked back into the unit.
She waited two beats, came out the door, and walked down to unit 12.
Cora had broken into motel rooms before. She had once climbed in a bathroom window. She had once climbed out a bathroom window, but that was another story.