Guardian of Lies (38 page)

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Authors: Steve Martini

Tags: #Murder, #Trials (Murder), #Conspiracies, #Mystery & Detective, #Legal, #General, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #California, #Madriani; Paul (Fictitious character), #Fiction

BOOK: Guardian of Lies
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“Those files contain privileged information, lawyer-client,” said Harry. “And the clients have nothing to do with Solaz.”

“The other prosecutor will decide if any privilege attaches to any of it, lawyer-client or otherwise. If it does, you’ll get that back too.”

“When, after your office copies it all?” said Harry.

“We represent law enforcement,” said Templeton. “I’m shocked.”

“Yeah, well you’re going to be spreading your shocked little body pretty thin when I drag you in front of half the judges downtown, demanding continuances and dismissals because you’re sitting on our files and peeking at our work product in their cases. And while you’re at it, you might wanna call the attorney general and tell him to expect an appeal on any case out of our office ending in a conviction in the next four or five years. If he’s lucky, there’ll simply be a blanket order of reversal on all of them. Save him time,” said Harry.

“Guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. Officer, get…yeah, that’s it, grab that one up there.” Templeton continued to ignore him.

“So that’s your procedure? That’s it?” said Harry.

“You don’t like it, you can always go to court,” said Templeton.

“You bet I will.”

“But I’d have to warn you, the judge seemed very satisfied with the process.”

“I’m sure he was. After all, he used to work for the DA’s office,” said Harry. “Back then he could only dream about such things.”

“I didn’t know that.” Templeton smiled. “Anyway, the team will look at it and decide what is evidence and what is not.”

“Evidence of what?” There was a tone of hesitance as Harry said it.

“That’s right, I forgot. You don’t know. I’m sorry.” For the first time since entering the room, Templeton turned to look at him. “You might want to get on the phone and check with your partner to see if he wants to get outside counsel or whether maybe he wants you to represent him. I wouldn’t want to give you any advice on that. But if he wants you to represent him, we can save time and serve you with the other papers right now.”

Harry was almost afraid to ask. “What other papers?”

“Let’s see, there are warrants for arrest on two counts of first-degree murder, aiding and abetting, breaking and entering, grand larceny, and conspiracy to commit all of the above. Let me think. I don’t want to forget anything. We’re still weighing the issue of witness tampering, seeing as he was sitting on top of his codefendant and telling her what to say and what not to say.”

“He is her lawyer,” said Harry.

“Was,” said Templeton. “And I’m sure he wasn’t going to let that get in his way. And, of course, there is the bus thing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Word on the street is, it was your client who was the target. They’re still counting bodies, but if it turns out that your partner was involved, you might want to tell him the stuff on the bus isn’t going to be covered by lawyer-client privilege. He can try to argue attorney work product, but I doubt if the judge will buy it.”

“You’re out of your mind,” said Harry.

“All the same, if we tag him on that one, you can expect a lot more paper. Figure a ticker-tape parade,” said Templeton.

Harry was getting grim looks from the deputies standing around the desk.

“Oh, yeah! And we’ll be adding a fugitive arrest warrant later today, just to add a little international spice.”

Harry stood there looking at him.

“Well, do you want to call him and give him the news?” said Templeton. “He’d probably rather hear it from you than read it in the newspaper. Or maybe he doesn’t read Spanish? You do know where he is?” Templeton looked at him and waited to see if Harry was going to fess up. When he didn’t, the Dwarf said, “You might try Costa Rica. At least according to the airline, that’s where his plane landed. You did know he was down there?”

“So what? There were no warrants outstanding when he left,” said Harry.

“You might remind him of that and see if you can coax him back. By the way, you wouldn’t know how he got out of the country, seeing as the state had placed restrictions on his passport, would you?”

Harry looked at him and just swallowed a little saliva.

“Well?”

“No.”

Templeton knew he was lying. He also knew that the federal government had been pushing buttons and pulling levers. The Dwarf had been given the shaft. It didn’t take a mind meld to know what was up. Let the horse out of the barn and follow him.

By morning Templeton would have the FBI in a legal headlock. If they were tailing Madriani, once a fugitive warrant was issued for the lawyer’s arrest and the FBI received notice, they would be compelled by law to arrest him immediately. The state would then have to arrange extradition. If the FBI failed to take Madriani into custody and he slipped through their fingers, the federal government would have to answer for its conduct in a courtroom and explain to a judge the reason for their actions. In a case of multiple murder, Templeton would be all over them, national security or no national security. The Dwarf would climb on a stump and start pumping out headlines ending in question marks—what was the federal government up to, and why did they allow a multiple murderer to leave the country and then run free?

“Larry.” Howser was trying to catch Templeton’s attention from the other side of the desk.

“Well, are you going to call him or not?” Templeton’s gaze was locked on Harry.

“If I do, I’ll let you know,” said Harry.

“Larry!” Howser was standing there looking down at the open drawer on the other side of the desk.

“What?” Templeton was aggravated by the interruption.

“I think you better look at this.”

He walked around to the other side of the desk. “What is it?”

Howser pointed. “Right there.”

At first Templeton didn’t say anything, at least not with his lips. Instead the Dwarf stood there looking as if he had just found the original gold nugget at Sutter’s Mill.

“Okay. Okay. I want everybody outta here,” he said. “Clear the offices. I want everybody outside now. And call the crime lab, tell them to send a van over here right away. I want two CS technicians, and tell them we’re gonna need photos.”

“What are you talking about?” said Harry.

“Maybe you can tell us how you’re gonna explain that?” said Templeton.

“What?” Harry edged his way around the desk.

“That.” Templeton was pointing toward a lot of clutter, pens and paper clips, some loose change, rubber bands, and a roll of Scotch tape in a center section of the top drawer of Paul’s desk. “Right there.”

The second Harry saw it, all the blood seemed to drain from his head. He began to sway. For a moment he thought he might actually fall.

Templeton grabbed his arm as if he could hold him up. “Are you all right?”

“I’m okay. I’m fine,” Harry lied.

“I know. I know,” said Templeton.

In that moment Harry and the Dwarf seemed to communicate on a level that transcended language. With the evidence he had and the charges he’d brought, it was clear that even Templeton, deep down, harbored nagging doubts that another lawyer could have done this.

But there in front of them in the drawer was one of the bags of catnip. It looked identical to the bags found by the police and photographed, the catnip used to take down the motion sensors in the side yard, the path used by the killer to enter Emerson Pike’s house.

 

 

 

FORTY-TWO

 

 

Ihad just finished shaving when I stepped from the bathroom and noticed that someone had slipped an envelope under the door to my room at the Sportsmens Lodge. I reached down, grabbed the envelope, and opened it. It was from the front desk, “a message from a Mr. Hinds. You are to call him in San Diego.” I knew that Harry wouldn’t call the hotel unless it was important. He must have called the cell phone and realized it was turned off.

A few minutes later Herman and I descend into the basement of the Sportsmens Lodge, near the exercise area. The place is deserted except for some of the hotel staff taking care of laundry. Herman watches the stairs while I make the call.

Harry answers the phone on the first ring and doesn’t even say hello. “I hope you’re sitting down. Let me get outside.”

I give him a few seconds to get out of the office so that federal bugs can’t pick up the conversation.

“What’s wrong?”

“Templeton dropped the world on us early this morning,” says Harry. “He raided the office, seized all the files in Katia’s case. There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”

Even though Harry and I have talked about this, the possibility that Templeton might charge me, the actual news that he has now done it knocks the breath out of me.

“Where are you now?” says Harry.

When I don’t answer he says, “Are you there?”

“I’m here.” I am swallowing hard.

“Are you still in the hotel?”

“Ye…Ah, yeah. Down, we’re, Herman and I, are down in the basement.”

“Get your stuff together and get outta there,” says Harry. “Do it now.”

“First tell me what’s happened.”

“Trust me. You don’t have time to talk,” says Harry. “Gather your bags, check out, and don’t leave by the front door. Is there another way out?”

“Yeah. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Templeton knows you’re in Costa Rica. He’s working on a fugitive warrant. The minute he gets it, he’ll bring fire down on the FBI to pick you up. You can bet on it. You were right; he had a hold on your passport, so he’s hopping mad. He knows the feds had it lifted. He’s already leaking information to the press to turn the heat on Rhytag. I got a phone call from a friend. It’s already been on Fox News. San Diego lawyer charged with murder, and the report is that you’re hiding out in Costa Rica with federal authorities close on your heels. You’ve got to move.”

“He still has a pretty thin case,” I tell him.

“Not after he found the bag of catnip in your desk drawer.”

“Oh, shit.”

“You might want to think about where it came from,” says Harry, “and we can talk about it later.”

“I forgot all about it. I found it the day we were out at Pike’s house.”

“I’m not the one you have to convince,” says Harry.

“It was cumulative evidence. The cops already had their own collection of the little white bags, all of them the same. I couldn’t see how one, more or less, was going to change anything,” I tell him.

“Yeah, well, the Dwarf must have feline DNA in his blood then, because he looked like he wanted to roll in your drawer and have an orgasm when they found the bag there,” says Harry. “And one other thing; it seems the cops have been holding back another piece of evidence.”

“What evidence?”

“You remember the promotional pens we had made up last year, the plastic ballpoints? We did a batch of them for New Year’s, along with the calendars, to give to clients.”

“I remember.”

“Forensics found one of the pens in the study, underneath Emerson Pike’s desk, when they processed the crime scene.”

There is a pause on the phone as Harry allows this to sink in. “Are you there?” he says.

“Yes.”

“According to their investigative notes, you told the police you’d never been to Pike’s house and that neither Pike nor Katia had ever been to our office. So Templeton is dying to know how the pen got there.”

My mind is racing with all of this.

“We don’t have time to talk about it now. Just get your stuff and get outta there. If the FBI doesn’t pick you up, the Costa Rican police will. Get back to Katia’s house, find the camera, get the pictures, and scoot. Lose the federal tail and get out of Costa Rica as fast as you can. It’s the only chance you’ve got.”

“Herman and I were going to wait until tonight, try one more time after dark.”

“You no longer have that luxury,” says Harry. He’s right.

“I understand. Listen, I’m sorry about the item in the desk drawer.”

“Save it for later,” says Harry. “Just don’t come back here unless you have something solid by way of evidence. Otherwise you and Katia are going down for the count. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“They’ll nail you the second you enter the country. That is if they don’t catch up with you down there first. So get moving,” says Harry.

“How is she doing?”

“Katia?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t ask,” says Harry. “Just get moving. I don’t care what you did, or why you did it, just find whatever you need. And call me tomorrow.”

“Harry, listen to me.”

“Just keep me posted. Let me know where you are.” With that the line goes dead on the other end as Harry hangs up.

 

 

Having watched Tomas die, Nitikin decided that he could at least use the lethal dragon’s breath to his own advantage. This, as he maneuvered for final leverage with Alim.

Alim Afundi’s man, who had retrieved the ramrod against the tree, paid for his effort in agony. He lingered for two more days after Tomas died. He was more distant than Tomas from the source of radiation, but unlike Yakov, he was without the protection of a lead-lined suit. It was the reason Yakov had selected him to help finish the job. Nitikin knew the man was dead the moment he felt the heat of the ionizing flash.

Alim wanted to use the expedience of a quick bullet to end the man’s pain, but he was facing a small rebellion. The dying man’s brother was part of Afundi’s group, and Alim had resorted to his pistol as the tool of command once too often. To shoot another of his followers, even under the guise of putting the man out of his misery, might inspire thoughts of mutiny among his dwindling band.

Now that the bomb was assembled, Afundi needed to move the device and do it quickly. Instead they were forced to sit and watch as his follower died on his own clock, bleeding from every orifice.

Nitikin could read the anxiety in Alim’s eyes. Yakov had never been informed as to the final target, but he knew that Alim was running out of time. During the weeks of preparation the Russian had picked up bits of information from friends in the FARC and subtle signals from Alim himself. He knew that the device was to be shipped, at least partway, by sea inside a container that had been specially lined with lead. Yakov had seen the container. It was ready to go.

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