The three of them were at Marc’s office in the conference room. They had all driven there separately, so there had been no conversation between them.
“I know and thanks,” Brooke said.
“How are you feeling?” Carvelli asked.
“My headache’s gone. I took some ibuprofen and that cleared it up,” Brooke replied.
“How’s your cheek and jaw?” Marc asked.
“Hurts like hell. It feels like somebody punched me. How does the bruise look?”
“Not bad, but don’t worry, give it a day or two, and it will look a lot worse,” Carvelli said.
“Great, thanks,” Brooke replied.
“What happened?” Marc asked. “Start at the beginning when you first arrived at work.”
“I don’t remember!” she said almost pleading. “If I did it, I don’t remember how or why…”
“Stop,” Marc quietly said. “Start at the beginning. Tell us what you do remember.”
Brooke took a deep breath, calmed herself and started over.
“Okay, I remember driving into the ramp and parking. It was raining real hard. I took the elevator up just like every day. I hung up my coat and put my purse on the desk. I set the timer on the coffeemaker the night before…”
“Are you sure?” Carvelli asked.
“I think so, yes. Actually, now that I think about it I definitely remember it because Lucy reminded me before we left. And I stopped and listened at Mr. Knutson’s door for any noise that he might be in.”
“Did you hear anything?” Marc asked.
“No, it was very quiet. Okay, so, I went into the breakroom and poured myself a cup of coffee. I remember it because I woke up a little late and had to hurry. I didn’t have time for any at home.”
“Okay,” Marc said to encourage her to continue.
“And,” she said and paused. “And that’s it. That’s all I remember. Except when I was sitting at my desk while the police were there, I noticed a cup on my desk with about an inch of coffee still in it. I remember it because I remember thinking I must have drunk some.”
“How many cups did you have?” Carvelli asked.
“I don’t remember, why? Why is that important? I might have killed Brody Knutson…” she said becoming visibly upset. There were genuine tears in her eyes, and her lips trembled.
“I think it is important,” Tony said. He looked at Marc and said, “I stuck my head in the breakroom. One of the things I noticed was the coffee pot on the counter. It was empty and looked like someone had rinsed it out. And I remember seeing the cup on your desk. There was coffee in it. But there was no ring around the inside of the cup. If you leave a cup with coffee in it all night, there will be a ring around the inside the next day. The coffee in your cup was fresh.”
“How did you notice that?” Brooke asked.
“I noticed a lot of things when I looked around,” Carvelli said. “Based on your memory loss, you might have been drugged. If that’s true, someone else was in that office, drained the pot and cleaned it out.”
“We need to get her blood and urine tested right away,” Marc said. “Let me call Nate Lockhart and see if he’s available.”
A couple of minutes later Marc ended the call. He looked at Carvelli and said, “Okay, why don’t you get her to him now. Then come back, and we’ll finish up. Don’t worry about the bill, he’ll bill me.”
“What about your bill? I have some money but…”
“Look, I feel like we got you into this and…”
“I’m a big girl. I knew what I was doing,” she said.
“Don’t worry about my bill. Just go with Tony. We’ll take this one step at a time.”
Less than an hour later they were back. During the time they were gone, Marc had received a phone call from Owen Jefferson.
“How did you come to be fingerprinted?” Marc asked when they were again seated in the conference room.
“What? I don’t know,” Brooke said.
“You’ve never been fingerprinted? They have your prints in the system.”
“Oh! That’s right. I was once, I’d forgotten. Back when I was in college a bunch of us were protesting about something, I don’t even remember what. About a dozen of us were arrested and taken to the police department. We were fingerprinted, photographed and put in cells. I think they did it just to scare us. It worked, too. They didn’t even charge us. They let us go after a few hours with just a warning.”
Marc looked at Carvelli and said, “I didn’t think prints were supposed to go into the system if charges aren’t made.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that, too,” Carvelli said. “I think there are cops that abide by it. Technically, they arrested her. That’s probably enough, why?”
“Jefferson called while you were gone,” Marc started to say.
“They found her prints on the knife sticking out of Knutson’s chest,” Carvelli said.
“It’s a letter opener,” Marc replied.
“You mean I did it?”
“No,” Marc and Tony said together.
“That does not mean you did it,” Marc said. “Your memory loss needs to be accounted for. If you were drugged then ...”
“We’ll see,” Carvelli said. “Does Owen want you to surrender her?”
“Yeah, he does,” Marc replied.
“Oh, my god,” Brooke said. “What did I do?”
“I want to hear the rest of your story,” Marc said.
“I don’t think you did anything. I think there was someone else in that office waiting for you. Brody Knutson, the little twerp that he was, couldn’t knock out a four-year-old. I’m not buying that for a minute,” Carvelli said.
“Good point,” Marc agreed. “Now, let’s hear the rest.”
“And that’s it. I don’t remember anything until I found myself sitting at my desk. Lucy said she found me on the floor in Knutson’s office. She woke me up, got me on my feet and helped me out to sit down. It was Lucy who called the police. The next thing I know there was this mean detective in my face trying to get me to tell him why I killed my boss. I’ve been around lawyers long enough to know not to say anything even though I wasn’t thinking too clearly.”
“Do you know where the letter opener came from?” Marc asked.
“Was it an ivory-handled expensive thing?” Brooke asked.
“Yeah,” Carvelli replied. “Could be. I saw it and it had a white handle. Could’ve been ivory.”
“Then it came from Knutson’s desk. He had it on his desk. He fiddled around with it while he was on the phone all the time. He liked to brag about. He said it was an antique that a U.S. Senator gave him as a gift,” Brooke said.
“Did you ever have occasion to handle it?” Marc asked.
“All the time. Lucy, too. If we straightened out his office, we handled a lot of things on his desk. I never thought anything of it.”
There was a knock on the door and Carolyn stuck her head in. “Owen Jefferson is on the phone, again.”
“I’ll take it in here,” Marc said. He picked up the phone on the credenza in the conference room and answered the call.
“We’re on the way,” Marc said.
“Gabe Hunt is outside my office pacing like a madman.”
“Too bad,” Marc said. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He hung up the phone and turned to his client.
“Do I have to go to jail?” Brooke asked a look of fear in her eyes.
“Yes,” Marc quietly said. “You’ll be arraigned tomorrow. We’ll try to get bail set.”
“You mean they won’t give me bail? I won’t be out before trial?”
“Let’s take it one step at a time. You’ll be okay. They’ll put you in segregation for tonight,” Marc said.
“Oh god, what a nightmare,” she said.
“The cops might put someone in your cell to try to get you to talk. Speak to no one,” Carvelli said.
Brooke took a deep breath, exhaled and said, “Okay, let’s go.”
“Give me your keys. I’ll go to your apartment with Maddy and get some things for you for tomorrow including a change of clothes and I’ll take care of your car,” Carvelli said as they started to leave.
FORTY-SIX
Maddy Rivers drove out of the underground ramp of her building and onto LaSalle. She turned right toward downtown and stopped at the red light barely fifty feet from the ramp’s exit. Early morning rush hour traffic was just reaching its peak as she waited for the light on Twelfth. A car pulled up behind her but not the one she expected. Maddy looked in her side view mirror and smiled. She could see the car third in line behind her and its driver. He was the same man who had followed her home from Cal’s the night before.
“Long night for you,” she quietly said to herself.
It had been decided that she could not keep losing the tail Cal put on her forever. Last night she allowed Cal’s thug to stay with her and led him to her condo building. Two retired MPD cops had followed Maddy’s tail and had taken turns keeping an eye on him. So far, nothing had happened. She was easily able to slip out for a while and meet up with Carvelli. They went to Brooke’s apartment then Marc’s office.
It was also decided that Maddy should take him to her office job. Or at least one that had been set up for her. Marc knew a small firm of lawyers in a downtown building. They agreed to provide Maddy with a cover by letting her show up and pretend she worked there. Now all she had to do was let Cal’s thug follow her there. The ruse would likely hold up, at least for a while.
While Maddy was being followed to ‘work’, Cal was enjoying a light breakfast at home. Aidan entered the dining room area and before he could sit down, Cal silently handed him a page of notepaper. Cal had written a brief note telling Aidan to gather the listening devices and destroy them. Fifteen minutes later Aidan was back with the news the ‘bugs’ were in Lake Minnetonka.
“Good, I was tired of working around them. Whoever’s listening probably knows by now we found them anyway,” Cal replied. “We need to find out who the hell this is.”
“Sooner or later, this guy will show his hand,” Aidan said. “That chick’s arraignment for Knutson is this morning. I got Phil going to sit in and watch.”
“Nothing will happen,” Cal said placing his coffee cup on the saucer. “She’ll plead not guilty and they’ll argue about bail. We’ll see if she gets it.”
Aidan’s phone rang and he took the call. He listened to a brief report then said, “Okay, get out of there. Go home. I’ll call you later.”
Aidan ended the call and said, “They found the lesbian.”
“Already? That was quick,” Cal replied.
Aidan shrugged, sipped his coffee and said, “Some woman, probably another lesbian friend, stopped by. She had a key and let herself in. Ten minutes later the place was crawling with EMT’s and cops.”
Aidan’s phone went off again. He answered it and listened to the caller, again. This time Aidan picked up the pad of notepaper and a pen from next to Cal. While he listened, he jotted down several notes.
“You checked that already?” Cal heard him ask the caller.
“All right, get some sleep.” He turned to Cal and said, “That was Dooley. He followed Maddy to the Grain Exchange Building. It’s on Fourth Street a couple of blocks from the government center. He followed her up to the sixth floor and saw her go in a law office.
“He then casually walked by like he was looking for an office and saw her taking her coat off at the receptionist’s desk. He said there were about a dozen names listed on the door as lawyers. She was not one of them. He even called the attorney registration place for the state. They don’t have her as a lawyer.”
“She’s a receptionist? She’s better than that,” Cal said.
“A receptionist for a firm that size would do a lot more than just answer phones,” Aidan replied.
“Yes, that’s true. Plus, she’d make a damn good first impression on clients,” Cal agreed. “So, she’s legit or at least it appears she is.”
“You want to keep following her? Now that we know where she lives and works, she’s not with the cops or the feds,” Aidan asked.
Cal thought it over for a moment then said, “Yeah, stay on it for another couple of days.”
“Okay, boss,” Aidan answered.
“Good morning,” the two of them heard a familiar voice say from the room’s entryway.
“Good morning, Thad, how are you?” Cal replied.
“Good, Cal,” the lawyer replied. “And you?”
“Never better,” Cal said as he poured coffee for his guest.
“Here, Mr. Cheney, take my chair,” Aidan said. He then walked around the table to the opposite side.
“Thanks, Cal,” Cheney said. He took a swallow of the coffee then the ever paranoid and careful lawyer asked Aidan, “Has this room been swept for bugs?”
“Yesterday,” Aidan answered.
Cheney looked at Cal and said, “Good news. It seems the sudden demise of Brody Knutson has rattled my clients. For some reason, and I did not disavow them of this notion, all three of them think you had something to do with it. At any rate, I have convinced them that their best legal strategy is to keep their mouths shut. Obviously, this indictment is a sham. It is precisely what I told you. The prosecution is trying to get one or all of them to cooperate.”
Cal was looking at the lawyer’s neck when he said, “Who wears a three-piece suit with a purple bowtie?”
Cheney laughed and said, “It sets me apart from the rest of the legal herd.”
“So, you’re sure they’ll keep their mouths shut?” Cal asked.
“Yes. The prosecution has no case. We’ll ride this out. No problem. Except…” he said and paused.
“Except?” Cal asked.
“Well, the woman, Marissa Duggins, I’m not totally positive about her.”
“She’ll no longer be needing your services,” Cal informed him.
“How do you…”
“It seems she committed suicide last night. A tragic death by an overdose of barbiturates and vodka,” Aidan replied. “Sleeping pills. The cops will find an empty pill bottle on her nightstand for a legitimate prescription. The vodka was her drink of choice.”
“Cal, I didn’t sign on…”
“Relax, Thad. I like you. I know what a crook you are,” Cal said. He tossed a thick envelope in front of the lawyer. “Here’s a little tip: make sure you get legitimate money from Dane Cannon,” Cal said.
Cheney picked up the envelope and looked inside. There was twenty-thousand dollars in used one-hundred dollar bills in it. The portly lawyer stuffed the envelope in his inside suit coat pocket and said, “Always nice to do business with you. I’m also sure the sudden tragedy of Ms. Duggins’ death will also motivate my clients to maintain their silence.”
Cal picked up the page of notepaper Aidan had written on and looked at it.
“What do you know about these lawyers, Godfrey and Stanton?” he asked Cheney.
“They’re an insurance defense firm. They do exclusively work comp insurance defense. Why?” Cheney replied.
“Just wondering,” Cal said. “Would they have any reason to be interested in me?”
A puzzled Cheney said, “I can’t see what interest they might have in you. I know one of the partners. I went to law school with him. Unless you have a work comp case, I don’t see any connection.”
Cal looked at Aidan and said, “Sounds legit. What do you think?”
“Probably okay. So, she has a job. So what?” Aidan replied.
“How much would a legal secretary-receptionist make?” Cal asked Cheney.
“Depends on the firm. A good one could easily make seventy, eighty grand. Why?”
“Just checking on somebody,” Cal replied. He said to Aidan, “Sharp girl. I’ll bet she is good.”
“Probably,” Aidan agreed. “We’ll give it another couple days.”
The object of their attention, Maddy Rivers, knocked on
the office door of Marc’s friend. She heard him say, “Come in” and went inside.
“Hi, Rob,” she said. “I’m taking off now. You guys will cover for me if someone comes looking for me or calls?”
“Sure, everyone knows. Hell, this is the most excitement we’ve had around here since, I don’t know, probably ever,” Rob replied. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good. I think only a couple more days should do it,” Maddy said.
“Stay as long as you want,” she heard a voice from behind said.
Maddy turned and saw the senior partner, Mike Stanton in the doorway. An older distinguished looking, silver-haired man was smiling at her.
“Rob’s right, this mystery is the most interesting thing we’ve had around here. Which tells you how boring we are.”
“Do criminal defense work,” Maddy said. “You’ll meet some interesting clients then.”
“We’re not that desperate,” Rob said.
“Or bored,” Stanton added.
Maddy flashed them both a smile and politely exited.
“We got a problem,” Maddy heard Carvelli say through her phone.
While she was pretending to be a secretary, Maddy got a call from Carvelli. She let it go to voicemail and returned the call when she got to her car.
“What?”
“Conrad went to Vivian’s this morning to check the recordings. While he was there, all four bugs went dead. He thinks they tossed them into the lake.”
“We knew they probably found them. We weren’t getting anything anyway,” Maddy said.
“I know. I called Paxton and told her. We’re kind of stuck on stupid right now. We need more evidence. With Knutson dead, I’m not sure where we go.”
“We need to flip the Cannon Brothers,” Maddy said.
“That’s another thing,” Carvelli said. He quickly told her about the news of Marissa Duggins’ suicide.
“How did you find that out?”
“Steve Gondeck saw Marc in court this morning with Brooke. He told Marc, Marc called me. Gondeck says it looks like a legitimate suicide.”
Insider Justice: A Financial Thriller (Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Book 8) Page 29