“I understand. Take care and don't worry about our friend; he'll be there next Friday.”
When we hang up, I return a call from Bob Harris.
“Scott, Jesus, man, I'm really sorry.”
“Thanks.” I take a deep breath. “I know you are waiting for our settlement demand in advance of the mediation. Our settlement demand is $5 million.” I don't wait for a response. I add, “This guy is Constantine's brother-in-law.” I'm not sure why I say it. Maybe I just need to hear the reaction.
“Yes, he is.” He pauses and says, “Mike Constantine wants me to assure you that he had no knowledge of Anders pursuing you or Mr. Walters to drop the case. He says that he will come to your office to tell you that in person if you would like, so that you can look him in the eye while he says it.”
“Thanks for that.”
After an awkward, quiet moment, Harris says, “Okay. I will pass on your settlement demand.” There was a moment of quiet. “I have a little girl, and I'm really so sorry, Scott.”
'Thank you, Bob. May your baby always stay safe.”
He clears this throat. “Thanks, Scott.” A brief pause and then, “One more thing, I assume the deposition of Miller that you set for next Friday is off given that no one can find him.”
“No, it's on. He has been subpoenaed, and I expect him to appear.”
There is a protracted silence, which I interpret as surprise, and then Harris replies, “Okay, see you then.”
Chapter 27
June 20, 2016
On Monday evening as we are finishing dinner and are preparing to run back to the hospital, there is a knock at the door. I open it to see an attractive woman who appears to be in her late forties. She wears elegant clothing and a distressed expression.
“Are you Scott Winslow?”
“Yes,” I say and wait.
“I am so sorry to bother you, Mr. Winslow, but I have to talk to you.”
“All right, would you like to step inside?” I ask.
She hesitates and then says, “Okay, thank you. I hope that I am not disturbing you.”
“No, it's okay,” I say, still waiting to find out who she is and what this is about.
I wave toward the couch, and she sits. Lisa and I sit down on the love seat across the coffee table from her. This woman looks like she might burst into tears any moment. She takes a deep breath and says, “My name is Victoria Constantine. I don't know if you know who I am—”
I am instantly angry, and I interrupt her. “I know who you are, and if your husband sent you to talk about the case at all, it is not going to happen.”
“No, definitely not. Michael did not send me, and I don't want to talk about the case at all.”
“Okay,” I say, “so what do you want?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Winslow, Jerry Anders is my brother. He is deeply troubled. I just want to tell you personally how sorry I am for what he did. I know that in some twisted way he thought he was helping us.” She shakes her head and adds, “He has done many bad things in the past, and I have tried to help him to find his way. This time I can't forgive him.” She draws a deep breath and pushes back a tear. “I am here to let you know how sorry I am and to tell you that if there is anything I can do for your family, I will do it.” She looks tired and vulnerable. And genuine.
Lisa says, “Thank you, Ms. Constantine. I can't think of anything that you can do, but we appreciate the thought and your concern.”
I say, “Thank you, Ms. Constantine. The support is appreciated. Sorry I assumed the worst.”
“There is something I would like to do, for me, but it may be too early for you. Don't answer today, but please consider allowing me to pay for the medical expenses you incur in taking care of your son. I mean now and all those needed in the future.”
“We can find a way to pay what we have to,” Ms. Constantine,” I say.
“I understand that. It would be a favor to me to let me help. I know that nothing can ever make up for the horrible actions of my brother, but I can try to help those that he hurt. That's what I want most.”
Lisa smiles at her. “We will give that serious thought, Ms. Constantine. Thank you.”
We walk her to the door, and she turns and hugs Lisa, and then me. “Thank you both so much for seeing me. And please, let me do something to help you.”
As she walks to her car, Lisa says, “I understand. She has her own kind of pain.”
In response, I can only nod.
* * *
June 24, 2016
On Friday morning at 10:15 a.m., I am sitting in my conference room with a stack of documents and my notes for the deposition of Carl Miller. Bob Harris, the court reporter, and the videographer all sit at the ready. Kevin Walters sits next to me, and an in-house attorney from Consolidated has come along to witness the testimony and sits next to Harris. We make small talk while we wait for Miller, who is now fifteen minutes late. I am a little worried, but Lee said he would get Miller here, so I haven't given up hope. Bob Harris's mood seems elevated by the thought that Miller might not show.
At 10:20 a.m., Miller walks in and apologizes for being late, saying he was caught in traffic. We all shake hands, and then I have him attach his microphone to his lapel. The videographer announces that we are all present for the deposition of Carl Miller in connection with the matter of Kevin Walters v. Consolidated Energy and Michael Constantine. He states the case number, our starting time, and where we are. We introduce ourselves and our clients who are present for the record. The court reporter then has Miller raise his right hand and has him agree that all of his testimony will be true and correct, so help him God. At that point, I begin to question Miller.
“Please state your full name for the record, sir.”
“Carl Edward Miller.”
“Are you employed, Mr. Miller?”
“I am now retired from the county.”
“Are you here today pursuant to a subpoena from my office?”
“I am.”
“I'm sure that you have things you would rather be doing, so we will move it along as fast as we can, but we need your testimony about certain occurrences while you worked for the county. Understand?
“You are testifying under oath today, just as if you were in a court of law, and the oath that you have been administered subjects you to the same penalties of perjury. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please wait to hear the entire question before you respond. I will then allow you to complete your answer before I move to the next question. Agreed?
“Yes.”
“If you do not know the answer to a question, it is perfectly acceptable to say you don't know, or you don't recall. No one wants you to guess at information you do not have.”
“Okay.”
“On the other hand, if you have a best estimate about a date or time of some occurrence, or a general recollection of some event, I am entitled to that information. Do you understand that distinction?”
“Yes, I do.”
“If objections are made, because we do not have a judge to rule on them, they will be addressed later. Once the objection is made for the record, you answer the question that is pending. Understood?”
“I understand.”
Over the next hour, I take him through his dates of employment with the county, all of the positions he has held and the duties of each position. We talk at length about his duties, responsibilities, and authority in the final position, which he held during the ten years preceding Kevin Walters's termination from Consolidated.
Then I ask, “So, it was part of your duties to monitor the violations that were discovered at both the Wheeling and the Ruston mines operated by Consolidated Energy?”
“Yes.”
“Was it part of your duty to secure compliance with the legal requirements to operate these mines?
Harris says, “I object, lacks foundation, vague and ambiguous.”
“You understand my question, Mr. Miller?”
“Yes.”
“Was it also part of your job to follow up with mine operators such as Consolidated to assure correction of deficiencies found in their operations?”
“Same objection.”
“Yes.”
“At some point, were you asked to alter official records?”
“Yes.”
“In what manner?”
“I was asked to switch the Ruston and Wheeler records and get rid of anything inconsistent with that switch.”
I glance at Harris, who looks visibly distressed. “Did you do it?”
“Ultimately, yes.”
“You say you ultimately did so. Did you resist at first?”
“Yes.”
“Were there promises or threats to get you to make this switch?”
“There were both. It started with promises of an early retirement and additional cash.”
“Did you refuse that?”
“At first I did.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Next came the threats.” I took him through the specifics, and he told me about the six o'clock news reporting a bribery investigation of county employees. He said that he had never taken money before in connection with any violation, but that they had people ready to testify that they told him of violations he did not report and paid him not to report these incidents. He felt he could not disprove those statements, so he should take retirement.
“Did more than one person make the promises and threats you described?”
“No.”
“Who made these promises and threats?”
“A man who called himself Mr. Valentine.”
“How many times did you see him?”
“Three times on three consecutive days.”
I have him describe the specifics of each meeting, and he details them just as he had for Lee Henry.
“Do you have an understanding of why he wanted you to switch the Ruston and Wheeler records?”
“He didn't tell me, but I certainly had a good idea of the reason.”
“What was your understanding in that regard?”
Harris interjects, “I object. This lacks foundation and calls for speculation. This witness does not have sufficient information to answer that question. You are asking him to speculate.”
“We only need a basis for the objection, Bob. The full-blown argument can be delivered when we talk to the judge.”
“What was your understanding, sir?”
“Well, there had been a recent explosion, and someone was trying to obscure the connection between that explosion and the conditions resulting in violations that had not been corrected leading to the explosion.”
“What did Mr. Valentine look like?”
“He looked different every visit.” He describes the closely trimmed beard and bad wig that characterized his appearance at the time of the first visit, the wilder beard of the second, and the clean-shaven double chin on the third.
By about two o'clock, he had fully testified to his switching of the records, all of the events that led him to that point, and the multiple descriptions of the blackmailer. He also verified correct records for Wheeler and for Ruston when shown each as exhibits.
After we take a break, it is Harris's opportunity to question Miller.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Miller. My name is Bob Harris, and I represent the defendants in the case Mr. Walters brought against them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you ever determine who the person who called himself Mr. Valentine really was?”
“No, sir. I never did.”
“So you cannot establish that he was an employee of Consolidated, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Or that he was in any way related to or hired by Consolidated, correct?”
“Correct.”
“You just have no idea who this guy is, right?”
“Right.”
“When you retired, where did you move?”
“Magnolia, Mississippi.”
“Why?”
“Nice place, and I wanted a change of lifestyle.”
“Did you also want to be far away from the place where you had altered official county records?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you know that it was against the law to alter public records?”
My turn to jump in. “Mr. Miller, you do not have counsel here, but if I represented you I would tell you that you have a Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination, which you can assert to answer a question that would be admitting a potential crime.”
Harris glares at me. “That is not your job, counsel. You don't represent him.”
“I know. Didn't I just say that?”
“You have no business instructing him not to answer any question.”
“I never instructed him not to answer. We can read back the record if you like. I simply informed him of rights that we all possess. He can choose whether to exercise those rights.”
Miller replied, “My answer is that as a rule, yes, but here I was being blackmailed. I certainly knew that was against the law, but it didn't help me any.”
At that moment, my partner appears at the conference room door. “Scott, I need to talk to you about another matter. It will only take a couple of minutes.”
“Sure,” I say. “Excuse me, everyone. We'll take just a couple of minutes before we resume.”
I walk down the hall, and Bill waves me into his office. “What's happening?”
“We have a couple of cops sitting in the waiting room. They are waiting for the depo to be over, and I think that they are going to arrest Miller.”
I nod. “Did you call Lee?”
“Yeah, he's on his way over now.”
“Did you tell him to come in the back entrance so he isn't seen by these guys?”
He nods. “How much longer?”
“I think we are pretty close. I am guessing that Harris has another half hour, which means we'll be done a little before four.”
“I'll have Lee wait for you in your office.”
“That works, thanks.”
Bill smiles and shakes his head. “This is pretty crazy. I hope it works.”
“Yeah. You and me both.”
I return to the conference room, and we get under way again. Harris asks Miller about the specifics of record entries and what certain abbreviations mean.
“Have you had conversations about this matter with anyone, at any time since speaking to the man you described as Mr. Valentine?” Harris asks.
Miller nods. “Yes. I talked to an investigator about the matter.”
“Do you know who this investigator was representing?”
“I believe that he works with Mr. Winslow.”
“What did he look like?”
“A tall man. Short dark hair with a little gray and a wraparound beard. Really penetrating eyes. Maybe a little over six feet.”
“And what conversation did you have with this man?”
“We discussed the same things I testified to today. He asked me about who approached me and what was said. I told him the same thing I have told all of you today. Then he asked me to describe the guy, and I gave him the same description of the disguises that we just talked about.”
“And where were you served with this subpoena?,” Harris asks.
“In Magnolia, Mississippi.”
“Were you aware a California subpoena is not effective to compel you to come here from Mississippi? Did the investigator tell you that?”
At this point, I am anticipating Miller saying that Lee didn't really give him any choice. Instead, he just says, “No, he didn't tell me that.”
“So you came all the way here based on a subpoena that was not effective?”
I think this is offered in an attempt to get Miller pissed at us so he will stop cooperating. I respond with, I Object. You are arguing with the witness. He doesn't know whether the subpoena was effective to compel his presence or not.”
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br /> “You can answer,” Harris says.
“I don't know. If you say so,” Miller says.
“I may be done,” Harris says. “Let me just review my notes for a couple of minutes to confirm.”
I step out of the room and go to my office, where Lee waits.
“Hi, Lee.”
“Scott.” He shakes my hand.
“Okay, I think we will be ready in a minute or so. Are you set?”
“Ready.”
I return to the conference room, where Harris confirms that he is done. I state that I have no further questions, and we put a stipulation about how the transcript is to be delivered on the record for the court reporter. The videographer does his sign-off at 4:05 p.m., and I give a subtle wave to Miller, and he follows me. We walk to my office, where Lee waits.
I say, “You know Lee.”
“Yeah,” Miller says.
“So one thing we thought was possible has happened,” I say. “We have two cops sitting in the lobby, and I think they plan to arrest you.”
Miller looks terrified. He looks at Lee and then back to me in desperation. “So that's it?”
“No,” Lee says. He opens a folder and then says, “Here is an Oregon driver's license. You are now Jason Wilcox, and you live in Eugene, Oregon. The address is your new apartment. I have never been there, so I hope it's nice. You owe me $1,800 for first month's rent and security deposit. You can send me the cash. Here is a credit card as a secondary ID. We are going to get you out the back door with all this.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but it never happened. You got that?” Lee says.
“Yes, I have it.”
Lee says, “Okay, now these guys know where you were living in Mississippi but not your full name. Cash out of your bank, and get out of your house there right away. They will connect the dots if you stay there, just like I did. Also, no deposits from you in your old life to you in your new one. A bank deposit from Darden in Mississippi to Wilcox in Oregon will connect the dots in a hurry. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“All right, let's go,” and Lee hustles Miller down the hall and out the back door.
Three minutes later I walk into the lobby where two officers wait. I look at them, taking in their presence for the first time. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Can I help you with something?” I offer, extending a hand.
[2017] The Whistleblower Onslaught Page 24