Deadly Distractions, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 6

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 6

  THE AUDIT

  It wasn't long after the announcement of CDA funding for Dusty's defense that I noticed I was being followed. It was a blue Chevy Cavalier that shadowed me wherever I went. When I got to my destination it parked and the two young FBI agents inside slid back in their seats and waited. I was tempted to go up to them and say hello, but figured they might not appreciate such a bold gesture. It bothered me that I was being watched and I wondered if my telephones were also being tapped. That would be a breach of the attorney-client privilege, so I was fairly confident no judge would sign off on such a request, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. As a precaution, Paula and I agreed not to communicate about the case by telephone. This was extremely inconvenient and annoying.

  The first real strike from the IRS came when we got notice of an audit. This was such an obvious dirty trick, I couldn’t believe the IRS even tried it. Had this been just a routine audit, I might have overlooked it, but this was a comprehensive audit asking for thousands of documents and records that would have taken months to gather together. After discussing the audit at length, Paula and I decided we couldn’t let the IRS get away with this type of tactic. We filed an emergency application for a TRO in Federal District Court to quash the subpoena and audit of our records on the grounds that it was harassment calculated to interfere with our criminal defense of Dusty Thomas. Several days later a hearing was held on the application in the courtroom located in the Earle Cabell Federal Building in downtown Dallas. Anthony Lopez, an assistant U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Texas, represented the Internal Revenue Service. The Honorable Winston Stanton was on the bench.

  “Your Honor,” I said. “As the court is no doubt aware, this firm represents Dusty Thomas, on trial for the alleged murder of Bobby Tuttle, special agent for the Internal Revenue Service. Several weeks ago it became public knowledge, through several media stories, that the Citizens Defense Alliance had provided financial assistance to Dusty Thomas for his defense of the criminal charges brought against him. It’s common knowledge the CDA has been under the close scrutiny of several federal agencies, including the IRS and the FBI. The day after these media stories came out, my associate and I noticed that we were being followed and the subject of electronics surveillance. We don’t know if this surveillance has been legally authorized or if it has been done illegally, but it is our firm belief that, in either event, it violates our client’s right to a fair and impartial trial, infringes on his constitutional right to counsel, and violates the confidential relationship between attorney and client.

  “In addition to this outrageous interference with the defendant’s right to counsel, our firm now has been singled out by the IRS for a full administrative audit calculated to distract it from its defense of Mr. Thomas. The Service, I’m sure, will contend that we were randomly picked, but we are not so naive to believe it is just a coincidence. We are prepared today to put on testimony and evidence to support these allegations and request the court to quash and enjoin this unconscionable conduct of the government.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Turner. Mr. Lopez, what does the government say about this?” the judge asked.

  “Your Honor, ordinarily the government would not concern itself with the activities of the attorneys for a criminal defendant. But in certain circumstances where it appears that the attorneys themselves may be involved in criminal conduct, the state has the right to watch those attorneys and gather evidence of their criminal pursuits. It is true that Mr. Turner and his associate have been under surveillance, but such surveillance was duly authorized by appropriate court order. We are prepared today to present evidence of criminal conduct by the Turner law firm including the receipt by wire transfer of $1.8 million from Georgetown, Cayman Islands. Perhaps Mr. Turner would like to enlighten the court on the source of those funds and for what purpose they have been received.”

  Fear and outrage swept over me as Lopez issued his challenge. I hadn’t anticipated the government monitoring my trust account. Banking was supposed to be private, so I had thought. So much for that illusion. I knew I had to respond vigorously now or the court would suspect the government had hit pay-dirt. I took a deep breath and looked into Paula’s troubled eyes. I wondered if she now regretted our partnership.

  “Your Honor, I would be delighted to enlighten the government as to the $1.8 million in my trust account except for the fact that it would violate my client’s attorney-client privilege. I will represent to the court that this money has nothing to do with Dusty Thomas or the CDA. This is money wired to my account by a different client for legitimate business purposes. Your Honor, this is just another example of the government’s flagrant trespass on our right to privacy and the right to have a confidential relationship with our clients.”

  Judge Stanton replied, “Mr. Lopez, I’m inclined to agree with Mr. Turner. It seems the government is assuming guilt by association. Unless you have some concrete evidence of criminal conduct or some direct evidence linking the $1.8 million to some criminal activity, I’m going to enjoin the surveillance of the defendant’s counsel. As to the audit, unless you are prepared to show me how the Turner law firm was randomly picked by audit, I will quash the subpoena and abate the audit until the criminal prosecution has been concluded. Do you want to put on your evidence, Mr. Lopez?”

  Lopez looked over at a man seated in the gallery. The man shook his head. Lopez turned and addressed the judge, “No, Your Honor.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at Paula. After the judge left the bench, we packed up our briefcases and left the courtroom. We were mobbed by reporters as we got out of the elevators.

  “Mr. Turner, do you support the CDA?” A reporter asked.

  “No,” I replied.

  “Then why did you accept money from them?” the reporter asked.

  “I didn’t accept money from them. Our client did. It was his decision,” I replied.

  “Does your client support the CDA?”

  “No more questions please. We have no further comment,” I said as we made our way through the crowd and out onto Commerce Street. Much to our shock and disgust the CDA was just outside the door picketing in full force. One sign read: “Dusty is our hero!” Another read: “Strike Down the IRS!” A television crew that had been filming the demonstration turned its cameras on us as we walked across the street to the parking lot. After escaping from the melee, Paula and I stopped at El Chico on McKinney Avenue for a drink. I was still reeling from the events that had transpired and needed something to calm my nerves.

  “Who was that guy with Lopez?” I asked.

  “That was his boss, Rupert Meadows,” Paula replied.

  “The U.S. Attorney?”

  “That’s right,” Paula replied.

  “You’d think he’d have more important things to do than babysit his prosecutors.”

  “This is a big case. He’s under a lot of pressure to nail our collective ass.”

  “I hate it when I’m a target. It takes the fun out of the case,” I said.

  “Yeah, you got that right,” Paula said before taking a drink and draining her glass.

  I finished off my drink and we ordered two more.

  “Well, now at least we can use the phone,” I said.

  Paula raised her glass, smiled, and said, “Here’s to Ma Bell.”

  I nodded and raised my glass as well. “So, it appears I’m going to have to go find Tex and get him back here. The FBI and the IRS aren’t going to forget about the $1.8 million in my trust account despite Judge Stanton’s ruling.”

  Paula gave me a solemn look and replied, “Do you think he’s alive?”

  “I hope so. I can’t figure how it would benefit them to kill him. They need him alive so they can retrieve their money.”

  “If you go down there, what will you do?”

  “I’ve got a contact at the bank. He’s my only link to Tex. I hope to hell I can find him.”

  “Maybe you should just report Tex mi
ssing and let the authorities find him,” Paula said. “I don’t want you disappearing on me.”

  “I’m not going alone. I’m not that stupid. I’m bringing Monty Dozier with me. He’s a good private investigator, and he speaks Spanish. Since we’ve got cash in the bank now, I can afford to do this first class.”

  “Are you doing this on your own or is Toni hiring you to find Tex?”

  “We haven’t discussed money. We’ll sort that out later.”

  Paula raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “No, you always discuss money first. Clients don’t have much incentive to pay you after the job is done.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” I said a little perturbed. “I just couldn’t bring that up when she was in such distress.”

  “I know. . . . Anyway, I’ll work on the Thomas case while you’re gone. Hopefully it won’t take you long to find him.”

  “I hope not.”

  I felt bad about leaving Paula alone in the middle of a murder investigation, but I had no choice. If I didn’t go find Tex, nobody would. I figured the quicker I got down to Ecuador the better. I hadn’t contacted Monty yet, so I gave him a call. He seemed excited with the assignment and agreed to meet me at DFW Airport in the morning. That night I broke the bad news to Rebekah.

  “Ecuador? Why in the hell do you need to go down there?” Rebekah moaned.

  “Tex got in some bad shit down there and I’ve got to go find him. Monty’s coming along so I’ll be safe.”

  “Oh, God, I’m going to be worried sick. Can’t Monty go by himself? He’s a private investigator. You stay home.”

  “He doesn’t know Tex and isn’t familiar enough with the case to go by himself. Besides, it’s better for two people to go. It’s less likely anyone will give us any trouble.”

  Rebekah knew it was no use arguing so she turned her attention to helping me pack and otherwise get ready for the trip. While she was packing, I called the airlines and bought our tickets. Fortunately my passport was up to date as we had just been on a short Carribean cruise the previous summer. I was starting to get excited about the journey ahead even though it wasn’t exactly a vacation. For some reason, I was sure Tex was alive. I just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t returned home or at least called. Was he having to play the role of the heir of Dr. Weller for a while? Was that it? I put a picture of Tex that Toni had given me in my briefcase along with copies of the correspondence I had from Victor Alfaro. It was precious little to go on, but it was all I had.

  As Rebekah cuddled up next to me in bed that night, I wondered where I’d be in 24 hours and if I’d feel nearly as secure as I did that moment. Was I a fool for running off to a third world country looking for a lost cowboy? If I was killed or kidnapped, what would Rebekah and kids do without me? Luckily I had taken out a million-dollar life insurance policy so they wouldn’t be destitute if I died. That gave me some comfort, but the thought of losing them made me tremble. I rolled over and pretended to go to sleep so Rebekah wouldn’t feel my anguish. It was a time to pray, something I didn’t often do. But tonight I needed God’s help if I were to find Tex and return us both home safe and sound.