THIRTY-TWO
“No way, no way!” Gondeck loudly proclaimed. “How long have you been sitting on this? No way is this to be allowed.”
“You’ll excuse me, Mr. Gondeck, if I’m the one who asks those questions and makes those decisions,” Graham icily said.
“Sorry, your Honor,” a calmer, chastened Gondeck said.
“What about this, Marc? How long have you been sitting on this?” Graham turned to Kadella and asked.
“Since the murder,” Marc shrugged. “I took her to a doctor that day. They took blood and urine samples and had them checked.”
Gondeck and Jennifer Moore both looked like they were going to say something. Graham held up a hand to stop them.
“They could’ve done the same thing. They still can. I made sure my guy got enough samples and preserved them for additional testing. You can send them to your lab anytime you want, Steve,” Marc replied trying to act as innocent as possible.
“There isn’t enough time,” Jennifer said knowing this argument was weak.
“Yes, there is,” Graham said.
Graham folded his hands together and looked down at his desktop pondering the problem. After a minute he looked up.
“I’ll allow it to come in but as I see it, you have a problem. Unless you can get someone to testify how she was drugged, it’s likely your client is going to have to take the stand. Have you thought about that?” Graham told Marc. “Unless you can bring in the person who drugged her.”
“Yes,” was Marc’s one-word answer. He wanted it to sound like he had solved this problem and was holding back. He did not want them to know that he had no idea how to show she was drugged without Maddy’s testimony. Plus, he wanted to keep the news about the waiter’s murder to himself, for now.
Still steaming, Gondeck sarcastically asked, “What other little surprises are you sitting on?”
“If I told you that they wouldn’t be surprises now would they?” Marc said knowing that would needle his opponent even more.
Graham laughed, looked at Marc and said, “Touché.”
“Your Honor!” Gondeck protested.
“Relax, Steve. There’s no court reporter or jury here,” Graham said. He turned back to Marc and said, “But he does have a point. Anything else?”
Marc pulled another manila folder from his briefcase and removed three, two-page copies of a report from it.
“I have a report from my criminalist, Jason Briggs,” Marc said as he handed each of them a copy. “The gist of it is, he believes the blood splatter patterns in the bedroom show a third person in the room. I just got the report yesterday,” he added looking at Gondeck.
“Mr. Gondeck?” Graham said.
Gondeck said, “My guy says no, there wasn’t anyone else in the room.”
“And their CSU guys have never missed anything,” Marc added.
“That’s enough,” Graham said. “Anything else?”
“I’m not done with CAR Securities, your Honor. It was them and I’m going to find it,” Marc replied.
“I’m not going to let you put these people on a witness stand and go fishing. You better have something solid against them. Do I make myself clear?” Graham said.
“Yes, your Honor,” Marc answered him.
Marc told the hostess they would like a booth to sit in. The three of them, Marc, Maddy and Tony had been joined by Margaret Tennant. They were at Peterson’s across Fourth Avenue from the government center for an early lunch. The hostess grabbed four menus and led them to a booth in the far corner.
“I’m not surprised Graham ruled against you,” Margaret said after they had been seated. “It looks like a fishing expedition. You need someone who knew Rob went to his boss with his concerns. Otherwise, they’ll do what they did; close ranks and lie.”
“You believe me?” Maddy asked Margaret.
“Of course,” Margaret smiled.
“So does Graham. He even said he believed Pascal was lying but needed proof,” Marc sighed.
“Now what?” Tony asked.
“We keep digging,” Marc answered.
The waitress came and took their order and when she left, Marc told them what happened in chambers.
“They’re pushing to allow TV cameras in the courts more often,” Margaret said. “They claim it makes things more transparent.”
“That seems to be the trendy word these days, transparent,” Tony said. “Except every time I hear a politician use it, you can be sure they’re hiding something.”
Margaret looked at Marc and said, “Well, get your hair cut and buy a couple new suits.”
Marc looked at Maddy, opened his mouth to say something but before he did, she cut him off.
“I’m not wearing a bikini. Forget it.”
Marc’s shoulders slumped and he muttered. “Damn, there goes that idea. I was going to try for an all-male jury, too.”
Holly Byrnes parked her FBI issued car in one of the spots reserved for them. After leaving the court hearing, she had driven straight back to the FBI offices. Mike Anderson had asked her to call him for an update when it was over but Holly felt physically ill after watching Walter Pascal’s performance. She needed a little while to get over it before she talked to her partner, or anyone else.
Once inside, instead of going to Anderson’s office, Holly went straight to her cubicle. Anderson saw her walk by and before she had dropped her purse and hung up her coat, Mike was there.
“I thought you were going to call. What happened?” Anderson asked.
Holly finished hanging up her coat then quietly said, “Let’s go in your office.”
Anderson barely had the door to his office closed behind them when she started.
“That lying little bastard! I sat there listening to him while he calmly committed perjury over and over,” a boiling-over angry Holly Byrnes let loose while stomping around Anderson’s glass-enclosed space.
Anderson had taken the chair behind his desk to wait for her to finish.
“Goddamn, I thought I would throw up.”
She looked at her partner who patiently waited for her. After another minute of cursing and stomping about, she finally stopped and sat down.
“Feel better?” Anderson asked.
“No,” she said.
“You never once stretched the truth while testifying against someone you knew was guilty?”
“This was different,” she protested.
“Yes, it was. You knew he would lie. In fact, we made him lie,” he said. “Holly,” he continued more softly leaning forward on the desk, “we have our job to do and case to make…”
“That doesn’t make it right, Mike, and you know it. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed his little act. You know what I think? I think Rivers’ lawyer is right. I think these guys did it to shut up Rob Judd and the other guy, too, Patrick McGarry and his girlfriend. They did it and they set up Madeline Rivers to take the fall for it.”
“These guys aren’t that clever…”
“Yeah? Ethan Rask? After what we found out about him you don’t think he knows people who know people who could pull this off?”
“All of the evidence points to the Rivers woman. They had some kind of fight and she went nuts. It happens. And your opinion about what else might have happened better stay in this room. For your sake, you don’t take this stuff outside the Bureau. Not if you value your career. Ever.”
“Okay,” Holly quietly agreed.
“I’ll call Joel and let him know how it went. When does the trial start?”
“Three weeks they said. November fourteenth,” Holly told him. “I think that’s what’s bothering me. Are our case and careers more important than Madeline Rivers’ life? If that’s true, then what have we become?”
“Joel Dylan would remind you to look at the big picture. Yes, our case is more important than a state homicide case. We may be able to roll up a Mexican drug cartel and…”
“We’ll never touch them and we both know it,” Holly interr
upted.
“Our case is our case and that’s our job.”
“I know. I’m on board and you know I am,” Holly agreed.
“I do, yes.”
THIRTY-THREE
Marc sat quietly staring through the open window behind his desk. Maddy’s upcoming trial was causing sleepless nights and he was in the office early because of it, again. He looked down at the traffic on Charles, both vehicle and pedestrian, without really seeing it at all, his mind somewhere else.
A gust of wind brought a wave of cold air and moisture through the window which felt good and brought him back to reality. Marc poked his head out and looked up at the low-hanging cloud cover dropping a mixture of rain and snow to remind Minnesota of what lay ahead.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Marc heard Carolyn say from the doorway. “Coffee’s ready. You want some?”
“Sure,” Marc said as he wheeled around and held up his cup to her.
“Where’s the goddamn coffee?” they heard Connie Mickelson yell out.
Carolyn looked at Marc, smiled and yelled back, “In here Miss Congeniality.”
Connie appeared in Marc’s doorway, cup in hand which Carolyn quickly filled.
“How you doing?” Connie asked Marc then sipped the coffee.
“All right,” Marc shrugged.
“Bullshit,” Connie said.
“Truth be told,” Marc continued. “I’m pretty worried. Maddy’s trial is in two weeks and I don’t have much of a case.”
“Oh, shoot,” Carolyn said. “I just remembered. John asked me to tell you to call him. He said he has something to tell you about Maddy’s case. I’ll get his cell number for you.”
While Carolyn went to write down her husband’s phone number, Connie sat down in one of Marc’s client chairs.
“What do you have?” Connie asked referring to Maddy’s case.
“She was drugged. And my expert will testify the blood spatter shows evidence of a third person in the bedroom. Their expert will say it doesn’t. Plus, we can put on a bunch of people who will swear Madeline never used drugs. And there was no way she could have done this because of the amount of roofies in her system.”
“Is that enough? Should be,” Connie said.
“That’s optimistic.”
“You get the witness list?”
“Yeah. I got Tony and some of his guys chasing them down. Thanks. I’ll call him,” Marc said to Carolyn who was back and handed a slip of paper with the phone number.
“He said it was important,” Carolyn said.
“I got work to do. Let me know if I can do anything,” Connie said as she rose to leave.
“Hey, John,” Marc said into his phone. “It’s Marc Kadella. What’s up?”
“I have something to tell you. Have you had breakfast?”
“No, ah…”
“I’m in Highland Park. There’s a Bakers Square just across the Ford Bridge. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Okay,” Marc replied. “I’ll come right over,” he finished referring to crossing the Mississippi into St. Paul.
Marc walked into the restaurant and saw Carolyn’s husband wave to him from a booth. The host approached him and Marc pointed to John and headed toward him as the host nodded in recognition.
“So, what’s up?” Marc asked when he sat down in the booth across from the St. Paul police detective.
While Marc poured himself coffee from the carafe on the table, Lucas started in. “I’ve heard something through the cop grapevine you might find interesting.”
“Okay,” Marc said then opened a small creamer and poured the contents into his cup.
“A couple guys I know were out the other night after bowling and they stopped at Stout’s up in Roseville afterward.”
“That’s nice, John,” Marc said with mild sarcasm when Lucas paused to take a drink. “Did they have a nice time?”
“Very funny, smartass. You want to listen? They ran into an acquaintance of yours. An ex-cop named Dale Kubik. Ring a bell?”
“Yeah it does. So?”
“Kubik was booted from the job because he’s a drunk, a junkie and bad cop. But he takes no responsibility for it.”
“Those types never do.”
“Yeah, true, but my friends told me he was a little drunk and talking trash about a female P.I. of our acquaintance he blames for it.”
“Maddy?”
“Yep. Pretty mouthy. Calling her a name I won’t use because it’s disgusting and Carolyn would kill me. He also was bragging that he got even with her. Claimed he set her up and she’s going to take a hard fall.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s what they told me.”
“Would they be willing to testify?”
“Before you get too excited,” Lucas continued. “I don’t believe a word of Kubik’s bragging. Kubik isn’t that clever. No way could he pull off something like that and he doesn’t have the balls. He’s all mouth.”
“I don’t care if he did it or not. I don’t have to prove he did it. I just need somebody else to point at. Will your guys testify?”
“Lawyers,” Lucas said shaking his head. “You don’t care who did it…”
“It’s Madeline, John. Do you believe she did this?”
“No, you’re right. I’ll check to see if they’ll talk to you.”
“John, if I have to, I’ll put you on the stand and force you to give me their names then I’ll subpoena them,” Marc said, leaning forward on the table and staring into his eyes. “It’s Madeline,” Marc repeated.
“I’ll talk to them and call you yet today,” Lucas said.
“Are they detectives?”
“Yeah,” Lucas nodded. “Straight shooters, both of them. I’m sure they’ll cooperate. Nobody owes Dale Kubik anything. He disgraced the job and deserves whatever he gets.”
“He’ll deny it,” Marc said. “I don’t care. I can still use it.”
“You know two St. Paul detectives named Raphael Suarez and Greg Dugan?”
Marc was in his SUV on the phone with Tony Carvelli. Marc was on his way back after meeting with the two cops and John Lucas.
“Doesn’t sound familiar,” Carvelli said. “I can quietly check them out. Why?”
Marc took a couple minutes to explain to his friend what he had been told.
“John thinks they’re okay?” Tony asked, referring to John Lucas.
“Yeah, he brought this to me,” Marc answered. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Tony continued. “Something doesn’t smell right. I know Kubik and he’s an asshole and a loser but I don’t think he’s so stupid he’d run his mouth like that. Maybe, but I’m not sure. Before you get carried away with this, let me do some digging. We got another problem.”
“Now what?”
“We’ve found a dozen or so people on their witness list who are going to testify that Maddy and Rob had a big fight in a restaurant a couple weeks before the murder. She got mad enough to get up and stomp out of the restaurant and left him sitting there.”
“Come on pal, push down on the right-hand pedal so we can get where we’re going,” Marc said.
“Who’re you talking to?”
“The guy ahead of me. I swear slow driving is becoming an epidemic in this town,” Marc replied. “Come on you old geezer. Squeeze thirty-five out of your little Ford Pissant. You can do it,” he continued, sounding very frustrated. “Get me the names of these witnesses and what they said. In fact, come by the office, can you?”
“I’ll be there before you. I’ll give Max Cool a call. You remember him?”
“Yeah, the detective from the Sutherland case. Will he talk to you?”
“Yeah, he’s a good guy and a professional. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you in a little while.”
“Hello, gorgeous,” Tony said. He had silently come in through the exterior door of the law office then peeked into Connie’s office, the closest one to the door.
“Screw you, Carve
lli, you no-account deadbeat,” she came back at him with a smile.
Tony leaned against the doorframe, smiled back and said, “When are you going to dump your most recent husband and run off with me?”
Connie rolled her eyes at the ceiling and said, “Could be any minute now the way things are going. But you need a lot more money than you have to get me to run off with the likes of you.”
“Hey,” Tony said holding out his hands in protest. “I was thinking maybe a weekend and you could pay.”
“In your dreams, gumshoe. Besides, you’re too old. You couldn’t keep up with me,” Connie laughed at the much younger Carvelli.
“Did you find out something?” Carvelli heard Marc say from Marc’s office doorway.
Carvelli tilted his head back to look at Marc and said, “Yeah. I’ll be right there,” He looked back at Connie and said, “You’re probably right. I need my rest.”
“And little blue pills,” Connie added.
On his way to Marc’s office, Tony said a quick hello to the office personnel. He went in, closed the door and took a seat.
“I talked to Coolidge. He had nothing good to say about Dale Kubik. His partner was there too.”
“Anna something as I recall,” Marc said.
“Finney. She was partnered with Kubik for a while. She said he was a good cop then divorce, money problems, booze and drugs got him. But neither one of them believes he could have pulled off something like this.”
“I don’t care if he did it,” Marc said. “Would he shoot his mouth off about it in front of people and what are these other cops like? The ones who heard him.”
“Max and Anna both said that Suarez and Dugan are all right. Good cops and straight shooters,” Tony replied.
“I didn’t think cops would stick it to other cops,” Marc said.
“Kubik’s not a cop and he burned a lot of bridges in St. Paul.”
“What about these restaurant witnesses?” Marc asked.
[Marc Kadella 06.0] Delayed Justice Page 22