An Unequal Defense (David Adams)

by Chad Zunker

  Before it was too late.

  FORTY

  After leaving the hospital, David drove straight over to Neil Mason’s office. He barged inside without even knocking. Mason was behind his desk. Two other men in suits were sitting in guest chairs. They all looked up with wide eyes at David’s unexpected interruption.

  “We need to talk right now,” David demanded.

  “Well, come on in, David,” Mason scoffed. “Don’t mind us.”

  “Right now. I’m serious.”

  “You should be serious. Your client hasn’t been playing nice.”

  Mason asked the other two men to give him a moment alone with David. When they left the room, David erupted on the prosecutor.

  “What the hell is going on, Neil? Why is my client having to defend his own life while under the care of the county?”

  Mason raised a hand. “Hold up, David. I think you got your facts wrong. The report I got this morning was your client was the instigator of last night’s attack, screaming about Russians and aliens in the middle of the night, acting like the crazy man we’ve all seen. Hell, he damn near choked the other inmate to death before guards were able to get in there and pull him off. I’d probably be conjuring up new charges for your client right now if I wasn’t already throwing the book at him. So go bark elsewhere.”

  “Someone is lying. I don’t believe them.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Where did the weapon come from?”

  “Beats me. Inmates can be crafty.”

  “Who’s the other guy?”

  Mason shrugged. “Just Joe Schmo, in for his second round of assault charges. But according to your client, he’s a Russian agent.”

  “I want to see the guy’s file. Better yet, I want to talk to him.”

  “Good luck with that. I think he’s in a coma right now.”

  “What about video? All the cells are monitored by cameras, right?”

  “Correct,” Mason admitted.

  “Have you even watched video of the incident?”

  “I have no reason to doubt trusted county employees. Besides, I have more important legal matters in front of me this morning.”

  “Well, I don’t. I want to see the video ASAP.”

  Mason sighed, rolled his eyes. He reached over, punched a button on his office phone, and asked his assistant to get him video of the jail incident.

  “You happy now?” Mason asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Mason crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair. “The pressure is starting to get to you, isn’t it?”

  “No. But it’s clearly getting to someone.”

  “Look, murder cases aren’t for everyone. There’s no shame in admitting that. There’s plenty of other good legal work out there for you. These are high stakes.”

  “I like high stakes.”

  “Tell that to your face right now,” Mason sneered. He stood, circled around to the front of his desk, leaned up against it with a heavy sigh. “You know, David, I talked to Murphy’s widow again yesterday. Let me tell you, she’s a brokenhearted, grieving woman right now. It would be a real shame to put her through every detail of this horrific tragedy again in a few months. Make her sit there and stare at photos of her husband with his head blown apart. Hell, you’ve seen them. Those photos are just brutal. What if I put the deal back on the table? Give you another chance to do the right thing.”

  “What are you trying to hide, Neil?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Tell you what: I’ll even drop it to twelve years—your client could be out in six. But you have to say yes right now, here in my office.”

  David’s eyes narrowed. “Who wants this to go away?”

  “The people who actually care about Murphy’s family, that’s all. I thought you were one of them, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “There’s more to this, and you know it.”

  Mason’s office phone beeped and interrupted them. It was his assistant. “Sir, there’s no video. Tech says the cameras went down in that whole wing yesterday. They’re still working on getting them back online this morning.”

  David watched as Mason did the slightest of head pitches. It wasn’t much—but it was enough to let David know that the prosecutor was surprised to hear that news.

  “Thank you, Alice.” Mason turned, shrugged. “Sorry. Cameras were down.”

  “Imagine that. I want my client better protected.”

  “Protected from whom?”

  “From whoever is pressuring you to make a deal so this will all go away.”

  “You’re seriously going to turn down this ludicrous deal?”

  “Damn right,” David said, headed for the door. “My client is innocent.”

  Mason yelled after him. “The only protection your client needs right now is from his stubborn lawyer who is going to get him killed!”

  FORTY-ONE

  David was on the sidewalk right outside the DA’s building, still fuming about his tense exchange with Mason, when someone called out his name from behind. He turned, spotted Dana hustling up to him.

  Brushing past him, she said, “Follow me. We need to talk.”

  David trailed her around the corner of the building, where Dana found a hideaway near a set of dumpsters. The pavement was littered with cigarette butts. Looked like a popular place for smoke breaks for county employees, although no one was standing there and lighting up at the moment.

  “Your boss is an ass, Dana,” David said.

  “I already know that.”

  “Someone tried to have Rebel killed in his jail cell last night. But no one in your office seems to even care about it.”

  “I believe you, okay? So shut up already.”

  “You do?”

  She glanced behind her, leaned in even closer, and spoke just above a whisper. “I left the office after midnight last night. When I walked into the parking garage, I spotted Jordan standing by his car up the ramp, talking privately with Mayor Nelson. Then Nelson jumps into his Cadillac, spins the tires, and races out of there like a madman.”

  “They see you?”

  She shook her head. “I stayed back by the elevators.”

  “What were they talking about?”

  “I don’t know. But the mayor looked pissed.”

  David arched an eyebrow. “You think the pressure is coming from the mayor?”

  “I’m suspicious. Three hours later Rebel got attacked.”

  David cursed. “Why would the mayor care about Murphy’s case?”

  “I don’t have a clue at this point.”

  “Do you know a lawyer over at Sewell and Merritt named Lee Barksdale?”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell. Why?”

  “He’s involved in this somehow. Murphy was doing an offline investigation about the murder of a guy named Eduardo Martinez, who worked on a city maintenance crew. He ever mention anything to you?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Well, I think someone killed him because of it.”

  “Eduardo Martinez?”

  “Yeah, he was killed about a week ago in a so-called drug deal. But I don’t think that’s what really happened.”

  “Let me look into it.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t, Dana.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Murphy looked into it and got himself killed. Because I got attacked in my office. Because Rebel is barely alive this morning. Whoever is behind all of this is starting to get really desperate. I don’t want to lose another friend.”

  “Look, if Jordan is truly corrupt, I’m not going to be caught on a ship that’s about to go down around here. You expect me to just sit on my hands?”

  David knew there was no way to talk her out of it. Dana was more strong-willed than anyone he’d ever known. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

  “I promise.”

  FORTY-TWO

  David pulled his truck to a stop in front of a small white brick house in a quaint South Austin neighbo
rhood. The yard was well maintained with colorful flower beds. Two tricycles sat in the driveway. A blue ribbon had been tied around the only tree in the front yard. David took a deep breath, let it out very slowly. He’d been to Murphy’s house only once before, when he’d first moved to town. Murphy had grilled steaks for them in the backyard. Since then, every time he and Murphy had gotten together, it was at a sports bar to hang out, watch games, and drink beer.

  David grabbed the flowers he’d purchased on the way over and got out of his vehicle. With each step toward the front door, he felt his heart pound a bit heavier. He took another deep breath, then knocked. He could hear a toddler singing somewhere inside the house. Seconds later, he spotted Michelle Murphy’s face in the side window. Then he heard the door lock being unfastened, and she opened the door.

  Michelle was a pretty blonde who usually had high energy. But today she wore no makeup, her eyes were red and hollow, and her shoulders sagged under a long-sleeve flannel shirt.

  For a moment, neither of them said anything.

  David could feel his heart in his throat. “Is it okay that I’m here?”

  She nodded, swallowed. “Of course.”

  “Are you sure, Michelle? Because I can turn around right now and drive away if you’re angry with me.”

  “I’m not angry. Just . . . confused. I don’t have the energy for much else.”

  “I wanted to come sooner. I’ve just been trying to find the right moment.”

  “Please, come in, David.”

  Opening the door, Michelle led him inside the house. She thanked him for the flowers, set them on a dining table that was already covered with other flower arrangements. David glanced into the living room, where Murphy’s two small kids were playing with toys on the floor. The three-year-old boy was the spitting image of Murphy. The two-year-old girl looked more like Michelle. David felt it surreal to be standing there, looking at those kids, knowing their father would never be coming home to them again. He felt his eyes grow wet.

  “You want some coffee?” Michelle offered. “Or lemonade? That’s about all I have right now.”

  “No, I’m good. Thank you. Can we talk?”

  She led him into a small study with a desk and two brown leather guest chairs that had been Murphy’s home office. David immediately spotted a framed photo on the bookshelf of him and Murphy wearing softball uniforms, arms over each other’s shoulders, acting like two idiots. It was taken at a law school softball tournament. David remembered Murphy had driven home the winning run that day. For fun, David had poured a bucket of blue Gatorade over him. Staring at the picture, David felt a new wave of grief hit him hard. He realized he hadn’t even taken a moment to properly mourn the death of his friend because he’d been so busy with the case. But now was also not the time.

  Sitting down with Michelle, David didn’t have the first clue where to start, so he chose the children. “How’re the kids?”

  “I don’t think it’s real to them yet, even though we’ve tried to explain it. Ashlie asked me last night when Daddy was coming home.”

  “Do you need any help around here? I’m pretty good with a tool set.”

  She gave him a small smile. “That’s not how I remember it, David. Justin’s crib was a total disaster.”

  They shared a quick laugh. Back at Stanford, David had gone over to Murphy’s apartment to help build a crib for the expectant baby boy. Michelle was eight months’ pregnant. He and Murphy drank too much while doing it, and the crib fell completely apart when Michelle tried to put the bedding in place. The boys had laughed their heads off, but Michelle had been pissed at them.

  “I blame Murphy,” David said. “He broke out that bottle of Garrison Brothers bourbon way too early.”

  Another shared smile. Then more awkward silence. It was so hard to believe he was sitting there with Michelle under these circumstances.

  “What am I going to do without him, David?” Michelle said.

  “What you’ve always done. Roll your sleeves up and get to work. You’re one of the strongest women I’ve ever been around.”

  “Not strong enough to handle this by myself.”

  “You’ll never be by yourself. We’ll be here for you.”

  She pressed her lips together. “It’s really good to see you.”

  “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.”

  “I was actually going to call you today, anyway.”

  David raised an eyebrow. “You were?”

  “Jeff Jordan called me this morning. He said the DA’s office had made a very generous plea offer to you in hopes they could avoid a trial and spare me from having to relive all of this. He asked if I would be willing to call you and try to talk some sense into you. I just hadn’t gotten around to doing it yet.”

  David thought about the exchange between Jordan and Mayor Gregory Nelson last night and Mason’s unexpected new offer this morning. Now they were manipulating Michelle? He felt anger bubbling up below the surface. “Listen to me, Michelle. You’ve known me for a lot of years now. You know how much I loved your husband. Murphy always had my back. And now I’ve got to have Murphy’s back, too.”

  Michelle wrinkled her nose. “What . . . what do you mean?”

  David decided to not dance around the truth. “Murphy was not killed in some random shooting by a homeless guy. Your husband was killed because he’d begun a private investigation that I believe threatened to somehow expose some powerful people.”

  Her brow bunched. “That’s not what they’ve told me.”

  “I think certain people at the DA’s office could possibly be involved.”

  Her eyes widened. “What? How do you know this?”

  “I’ve spent the past few days discovering a lot of what Murphy had uncovered.”

  Michelle ran her fingers through her hair. “I can’t handle this, David. I just can’t. I don’t even want to know anything more about it. It takes everything within me to get from hour to hour with my kids right now.”

  “I understand. But you needed to hear it straight from me.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “Did Murphy keep any files at home? Did he have a private lockbox or anything like that around here where he might have kept important paperwork?”

  She pointed toward a set of cabinets behind the desk. “He kept some files in that drawer over there. I think it’s mostly our personal financials and stuff. You’re welcome to take a look. I don’t care.”

  The kids started fighting about a toy in the next room, so Michelle excused herself to go deal with it. Walking over to the cabinet, David pulled a drawer out and began rummaging through Murphy’s home files. Just like Michelle had suggested, most of it was personal files for their bank records, taxes, bills, mortgage info, car info, and so forth. There didn’t appear to be anything in the drawer that was work related. David searched the desk drawers next. Again, he found mainly miscellaneous personal items, office supplies, and the sort. When he opened the middle drawer, he found a clear Ziploc bag containing Murphy’s wedding ring, his watch, his money clip still stuffed with cash, and his cell phone.

  “A policeman dropped that by a few days ago,” Michelle said, standing at the door of the study. “I stuck it in the drawer and haven’t even touched it.”

  David pulled the cell phone out of the bag. “Do you mind if I take a look?”

  She shrugged. “If you think it might help you.”

  “Do you know his password?”

  Michelle gave it to him. In the next room, Ashlie was yelling for Mommy again, so Michelle excused herself. When the phone powered up, David typed in the password and stared at a screen with all the usual apps, along with dozens of kid-friendly ones that Murphy probably had used to entertain his children. David first clicked on Email. He was surprised to find Murphy’s email completely empty. David did the same with the calendar. He found no date entries listed. When David opened up Messages, he discovered the exact same thing. Empty. No emails, no messages, no voice
mails. Everything had been wiped clean.

  Was that intentional? Had someone made sure to scrub Murphy’s phone before giving it back to Michelle? Not everything had been deleted. David scrolled through hundreds of photos—most of which were of the kids—and several times he had to push back waves of grief. He reviewed a couple of organizational apps but again found nothing that caught his attention. Remembering that the security video had shown Murphy to be on his phone when he’d entered the alley, David went back to the Phone app again. Although there were no longer any stored voice mail messages, he did discover that the call log was still intact—it had not been deleted. He quickly scanned a list of the most recent incoming and outgoing calls.

  There were no calls from the past week, of course, since the phone was likely shut off after being confiscated at the crime scene. But there was a phone call Murphy had placed that matched up with the exact time stamp for when he’d left the Dirty Dog the night of his death.

  When Murphy was killed, he was on the phone with DA Jordan.

  David cursed quietly, his mouth dropping open. Why had this not been disclosed to him? What had Murphy said to his boss that night? This information was critical to the case. They couldn’t just make it disappear. David swallowed. Or could they? Jordan and Mayor Nelson were two of the most powerful political figures in the city. If this thing went as high up as David was starting to think, where would he turn for help?

  FORTY-THREE

  David rushed back to the office and found Bobby E. Lee sitting in a chair outside the main office door per usual. The old man in the gray soldier uniform stood and saluted. David had tried and failed many times over the past six months to get him to stop doing it. Now he just rolled with it like it was normal.

  “Morning, Bobby.”

  “Mr. Adams?” Bobby Lee said, surprising David. The man rarely said a word to him.