“Shit,” Reed said, turning the .9mm Ruger over in his hands. “You disarmed him yourself?” When he looked up, Ann was already walking back to the parking lot. “Hey,” Reed yelled out, “wait and I’ll drive you home. I don’t want you going home alone.”
Ann glanced back over her shoulder, then continued walking.
“Where are you going?” Abrams called after her. “Maybe you should be checked by a doctor.”
Ann stopped and faced them, speaking from several feet away. “I don’t think that will be necessary, gentlemen.” She spun around and called out the rest, making her way to the parking lot. “I’m going to get my son, and then I’m going to take a shower. I don’t think I need your assistance to do that.”
Reaching the Range Rover in the parking lot, Ann just stood there, leaning back against the car, the sheer joy of being alive causing her entire body to tingle with pleasure. For a few minutes she stared up at the sky, letting the cool evening breezes caress her face, inhaling the salty sea air. She felt her father’s presence surround her. Somehow he had known, had experienced some type of premonition. Years ago, when he had taught her the maneuver she had used to disarm Hopkins, he had told her she might be forced to use it one day, and that it would be the most courageous moment in her life. The gun could have easily discharged and killed her, but her father had known. He had known that if his daughter were ever in a situation that grave, she would be facing certain death anyway.
Ann watched as Reed and Abrams trudged across the sand with Hopkins in tow. After all this, the two detectives were still trying to protect her, offering to drive her home. After what had just occurred, it was so ridiculous, it was almost comical.
But Ann had learned a valuable lesson tonight, one she would never forget. When it came down to the wire, all the armies in the world couldn’t protect you. Man, woman, child, it was all the same, she told herself.
There was only one person in the world who would never let her down, never make an error in judgment, never fail to appear when she needed them. With her fist she tapped her chest, acknowledging herself.
Then she got in the car and sped off.
Chapter 23
Ann slipped into the courtroom and the first empty seat in the back row. Jimmy Sawyer was on the witness stand, and the courtroom was packed with spectators.
“Did Mr. Hopkins ever come to the Henderson house?” Harold Duke asked.
“Yes,” Sawyer said. “The first time was right after I was arrested.”
“Was this the night Sally Farrar saw him through her window?”
“I guess so,” Sawyer said. “See, we were having a party. Hopkins talked to me and then he started talking to the chicks. He dropped some Ecstasy with us like he was one of the guys. Then he just partied with the girls the rest of the night.”
Ann knew Sally Farrar had already testified earlier, positively identifying Glen as one of the men she had seen at the Henderson house, but the fact that he had used drugs and engaged in group sex was utterly appalling. This was the man she’d been sleeping with, the man she had thought she could love. She also couldn’t understand why he would take such a blatant risk. But Ann had seen this type of behavior with other multiple offenders: serial killers, serial rapists. They started out cautious, but as they continued to commit crimes and get away with them, they became sloppy, almost as if they were taunting the authorities to apprehend them. Glen was committing atrocious crimes, raping old women around the time he went to the Henderson house. Subconsciously, Ann decided, he must have been crying out for someone to stop him and put an end to his madness. She shook her head, turning her attention back to the proceedings.
Duke paused, walking back to the table, then quickly spinning around to face his client. “Ms. Farrar testified that she saw a large object in the back of Peter Chen’s Lexus. Can you tell the court what this object was?”
Sawyer brushed his hair out of his face, and moved closer to the microphone. “We were moving the lab then, so I guess it was a piece of equipment or something.”
“It wasn’t a body, was it?” Duke said, smiling.
“Of course not,” Sawyer said adamantly.
“When was the next time you spoke to Mr. Hopkins?”
“It was at the house on Henderson. The officers were searching after she found the fingers, and Hopkins came outside where I was being held. The other officer went in the house for something, and that’s when Hopkins told me that he would have to file charges against me. He said I was basically a fuck-up and a disgrace.” Jimmy stopped, looking up at the judge. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to use profanity, but that’s what he said. He said he had to file charges against me in Ms. Carlisle’s shooting and for violating my probation, and that if he filed the charges, it would be better for me in the long run. He said I’d get bail and he’d make sure I’d never be convicted of anything. Once I was tried and found not guilty, he said they could never try me again. He said that would be double jeopardy.”
“I see,” Duke said, walking back to the table and sitting down. “Were you comfortable with this, even knowing that you might be sent to jail for something you didn’t do?”
“He was a district attorney,” Sawyer said intently. “I thought he knew what he was doing. And I didn’t shoot her anyway. I was also scared out of my mind. See, he found out we were dealing on the side and pocketing the money. I thought he would kill me if I didn’t do everything he said. He was angry too because of what she found in the house. He said I might end up convicted of murder if I didn’t do exactly what he said.”
“Who is she? Are you speaking of Ms. Carlisle?”
“Yes. She found the fingers.”
“What fingers?”
Sawyer dropped his eyes. “The ones in my refrigerator.”
“Where did these fingers come from?”
“We didn’t kill anyone. We got the fingers from a Chinese guy that Peter knew in Los Angeles. The guy had just come over from China and was working for one of those cheap burial societies. He said he could get us anything we wanted.”
“What does that mean exactly? What kind of society?”
“You pay a couple hundred dollars and they cremate the person.” Sawyer shrugged his shoulders as if to say he didn’t know about these kinds of things.
“So how did you come by these fingers?”
“We bought them.”
Several people in the courtroom gasped, and others began whispering. Judge Hillstorm looked out over the room sternly, and the noise died down.
Duke continued, “This Chinese guy, as you called him, he was the one who sold these fingers to you? Not his own fingers, right, but fingers off a corpse?”
“Right,” Sawyer said. “He said they had bodies stacked all over the place, that they didn’t even know who half of the corpses were anymore. We were going to get a hand, but then Peter said we couldn’t preserve it as easy as the fingers.”
Harold Duke walked up to the witness stand. “Why did you want severed fingers?”
“Because once we started dealing on our own,” Sawyer said, his eyes scanning the courtroom and then returning to rest on Duke, “all these local gangbangers went after us. They said we were dealing in their territory, that they owned it. We thought if we scared them, they’d leave us alone. So we got the fingers and flashed them around on the street and said we’d killed the last guy who tried to interfere in our operation. I mean, the fingers came from an old lady, I think, but no one ever looked at them close enough to figure that out. A gang still took a shot at Brett one day, but they missed. That’s when we decided not to deal in their area anymore. Instead we started dealing at colleges, malls, and places like that.”
“When did you see Mr. Hopkins again?”
“He called me and told me to meet him the day I got out on bail. When I met him, he wanted me to break into Ann Carlisle’s house. He said we needed something regarding her son or her husband that we could use against her. He said we needed to make her cra
zy and really scare her so whatever she said about us wouldn’t be believable, you know, about the fingers and ail.”
“Did you do what he asked?”
“I was already in enough trouble,” Sawyer said, his voice strained. “I wanted out. On the phone he told me to bring the Porsche. I couldn’t figure out why he wanted me to do that unless he wanted to set me up. I knew the police were tailing me, so I switched cars with a friend in the mall. When I met Hopkins, I told him I wasn’t going to do it.”
“Do what?” Duke asked.
“Break into her house.”
“What kind of car was Mr. Hopkins driving?”
“A black Rolls-Royce,” Sawyer answered.
“What happened after you met him?”
“We drove to Ms. Carlisle’s house and parked a few houses down on the street. He had a gun, a Ruger. He handed me the gun and told me if I wouldn’t break into her house, I had to cover him from the outside.” Sawyer paused, thinking through his next statement. “He’d been inside her house before, see. He said she had locks on all the windows, but once he was inside, he would open the window in the front of the house. If I saw anyone drive up, I was supposed to turn off the power at the box outside. He even showed me where it was.”
“And did you do this?” Duke asked. “Did you see Ms. Carlisle drive up?”
“Yes, I did, but I didn’t turn the lights off right away. I didn’t know what to do, really. It was pouring down rain and I just wanted to go home.”
“And what other instructions did Mr. Hopkins give you?”
“If I heard a struggle or something, I was supposed to come through the other window and help him.”
“Did you do that?”
“No,” Sawyer said, shaking his head. “After she drove up, she went inside and I guess she went to bed, because all the lights went off. Then I prowled around the house to see where he was and try to tell him she was back. That’s when I saw him.”
“Where did you see him?”
“Coming out the window, the window he broke to get in. He handed me these things, and told me to turn off the power, that he was going back inside, that he wanted to scare her good.”
“What did he hand you?”
“I think it was a picture and some videotapes.”
“What happened next?” Duke said. I turned off the power like he told me.” Did Mr. Hopkins go back inside the house?”
“He must have gone through the other window. Then a few minutes later, I heard someone shooting inside the house. I thought he was killing her and ran to the window. That’s when I fired the gun.”
“What were you shooting at?”
“I thought I was shooting at him,” Sawyer said, frustrated. “You know, Hopkins? It was raining and dark. I was certain I hit him, but I guess I didn’t.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I ran back to his car and panicked. When I tried to drive off, I was so excited and scared that I crashed into a car parked on the street. I really thought I had shot someone then. I didn’t know I’d missed.”
“After you collided with the parked car, what did you do?”
“I just kept driving.”
“In Mr. Hopkins’s Rolls-Royce?”
“Yes.”
“And where was Mr. Hopkins?”
“I don’t know. I guess he ran down the street or something and hid.”
“What did you do then?”
“I wiped down the Ruger and left it in the car, along with the things he had given me. I even left the keys in the car, but I wiped them down too. Then I left the car along the side of the road near where I had parked my car. It was maybe six blocks from Ann Carlisle’s house.”
“Did you ever see Mr. Hopkins again?”
“No, but I guess he found his car and got away in it.” Jimmy laughed, as if he had said something comical.
Duke grimaced, and Sawyer became serious again. “Did you speak to him on the phone?”
“No. I’ve been hiding in my parents’ yacht. Before that I was staying in the house on Henderson. No one knew where I was, except I guess that Farrar lady next door, but she didn’t call the cops.”
“Why did you ask to meet Ann Carlisle at Marina Park?”
“To tell her the truth and turn myself in. I finally told my father the truth about what we’d been doing, the drugs and all. He said if I didn’t turn myself in, the police would kill me. He was the one who told me to call Ann Carlisle. He said if anyone would help me, she would. I certainly wasn’t going to call the district attorney’s office, and I didn’t know if the police were in with Hopkins or not.”
“You didn’t call Glen Hopkins and tell him you were going to Marina Park?”
“No. I never thought he’d have a police scanner and show up,” Sawyer said, his face muscles twitching at the memory of that night. “He was the last person I wanted to see, let me tell you.”
“No further questions, Your Honor,” Duke said.
Judge Hillstorm looked at the clock and saw it was three o’clock. “Why don’t we take a fifteen-minute recess? Mr. Duke, how many more witnesses will you be calling?”
“None,” Duke said.
“Fine,” Hillstorm said, “then we’ll conclude this matter when we return from recess.”
When Jimmy Sawyer’s hearing resumed, Robert Fielder, the district attorney himself, stood to address the court. The courtroom was even more crowded and noisy than before the break.
“The people are prepared to dismiss counts one through three,” Fielder said, “relating to the shooting of Ann Carlisle. But Mr. Sawyer’s own statements make it clear that he has violated the terms of his probation by continuing to distribute narcotics and should be held to answer on a violation of probation on the underlying offense. In addition, the defendant should be held to answer on section 11366.5 of the Health and Safety Code, management of a location used for unlawful manufacture or storage of controlled substances; 11366.6 of the Health and Safety Code, using this location to suppress law enforcement entry in order to sell; and 11383 of the Health and Safety Code, possession for manufacturing purposes.”
Fielder took his seat and Judge Hillstorm said, “Mr. Duke.”
Ann knew that Sawyer was still in deep trouble. The majority of the code sections he had been held to answer on required a mandatory prison term if convicted. This was due to the fact that Sawyer and his roommates had not only been distributing narcotics but manufacturing them, and the penalties for this type of activity were severe. If it had only been possession for sale, the judge would have the option of sending Sawyer to the county jail in lieu of prison. Probably in exchange for Sawyer’s testimony against Glen Hopkins, Ann thought, a far more serious case where his testimony would be invaluable, the district attorney would dismiss one or more of the stated charges. But Jimmy Sawyer was facing a stint in prison. There was no doubt about it. He could cooperate all day and night, and he would still end up on a bus to prison. The only thing his cooperation would accomplish was a shorter term.
Duke addressed the court: “My client has cooperated fully with the authorities. This is evidenced by his candor in the courtroom today. Even knowing he was incriminating himself and with full knowledge that he is facing a prison sentence, Mr. Sawyer chose to tell the truth.” Duke paused and looked straight at Hillstorm before continuing. “For this reason Yd like to request that the court reinstate the previously ordered bail.”
Hillstorm nodded and placed his glasses on his nose, shuffling papers around. Then he looked up and began speaking. “Counts one, two, and three will be dismissed at the people’s motion. On count four, a violation of probation, there appears to be probable cause to hold the defendant to answer, as well as counts five, six, and seven, relating to manufacturing and distributing of controlled substances for sale.” The judge proceeded to set the matter over for trial and selected a date that both attorneys agreed upon.
When finished with the formalities, he looked out at Jimmy Sawyer. “Mr. S
awyer, it’s a sad thing to see a young man like yourself drawn into the world of crime. Hopefully, what has happened to you as a result of your criminal activities will be a lesson you won’t soon forget. I will not be the trial judge, but if you are convicted, you can still recover and become a contributing member of society. You are a young man, and you have a decent family behind you. Many people in your position do not have these advantages.” Hillstorm paused and looked over at Dr. and Mrs. Sawyer, his tired eyes full of compassion. “All right,” he said, sighing heavily while he pondered his next move. “Because you stepped to the line here today and appeared to be forthright with this court, I will honor Mr. Duke’s request to reinstate your bail forthwith.” Hillstorm took his glasses off and struck his gavel one time. “This court is adjourned.”
Newspaper reporters started running out the back doors to reach their editors. Jimmy Sawyer’s parents surrounded him, and Ann watched as Dr. Sawyer embraced his son. She couldn’t help but think of all the hopes and dreams the surgeon had held for his only child. The boy could recover, but neither he nor his family would ever be the same. Once a person went to prison, it left a permanent scar.
Waiting until most of the courtroom had cleared, Ann walked over and stood there until Jimmy saw her. Dr. Sawyer stepped back, and Ann reached out to shake Jimmy’s hand. “I’ll always be grateful to you for stopping that night,” she said. “I just wanted you to know that. If you didn’t have something good inside, you would have never stopped.”
Dr. Sawyer glanced at Ann and then looked away self-consciously.
“How’s your hand?” Ann asked politely.
The doctor held it up, and Ann saw the splints on two fingers. “Not so bad. It will be fine in a few weeks. I guess I got carried away that day. Please accept my apology. It was my son, I just—”
“I have a son too, Dr. Sawyer,” Ann said, meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I understand.” With that, she turned around and walked out of the courtroom.
First Offense Page 35