Into The Heat (Sandy Reid Mystery Series Book 6) (3 page)

“I engaged her even though she has an attitude. She’s the suspicious type. My guess is she doesn’t always play by the rules.”

“You’re right, she’s a bit of a wiseass from what I hear. Just hire her and let her do her thing. She’s successfully defended dozens of people just in the past year. The toughest defense attorney this county has seen for a long time. She’ll straighten out this mess and have your husband out in no time, and we can go on as if nothing happened.”

“You’re probably right, only that I don’t usually hire people I can’t control. They can take off on their own.”

“Well, you need her, and your husband in jail is the last thing I need. The sooner whatever happened in that incident gets out of the paper the better. Was she able to tell you much? Did she say why he got arrested?”

“Sounds serious. The police say he walked up and shot some guy sitting in his car. She had the police report right there.”

“Someone’s mixed up. I realize Lester has his problems, still that doesn’t sound like him. Have they identified the guy who was shot?”

She hesitated before lying, “I guess Sandy didn’t have the name of the victim.”

He shook his head. “Is that all she said? This guy was shot while sitting in his car? This can’t have anything to do with Lester. He must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. You think he possibly knows the guy?”

She shrugged. He didn’t realize how bad it was, and she didn’t want to be the one to tell him.

“This might be worse than I thought.” He took out his phone and dialed, “Yeah, it’s me. Hey look, the police arrested someone last night for shooting some guy in his car. Yes, in this morning’s paper but no details. Make a few calls, Claudia, and find out what the hell is going on. And call me right back… no, no, merely curious.”

“Why did the blockhead shoot that guy?” Julia said after he hung up.

“He didn’t shoot anyone, sweetheart. Now don’t worry about it until we find out what really happened.”

“I feel so guilty about getting him involved in this mess.”

“What do you mean?”

“I definitely knew he was running around with someone. I should have kept quiet and let him have his plaything. After all, he was out of my hair and not bothering us. Perhaps I shouldn’t have accused him. I was being mean. I wanted to punish him. But not like this. We argued and I got him all upset.”

“That’s silly, your argument didn’t send him out in a murderous rage. They have the wrong man, and you’re not responsible for anything, period.”

“I don’t want him to rot in prison, although that would solve a couple of problems for us, wouldn’t it?”

He raised his voice, “We don’t have any problems, Julia. And don’t start making any. A man in my position needs to keep things just as they are.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. My boat is rocking enough for the two of us.” She braced herself for when he found out just how bad it all was.

His phone buzzed, and as he listened, a frown sagged down over his face. He said goodbye and slammed his hand against the steering wheel. “Damn! They’ve identified the victim. Do you realize who it is?”

She mumbled something while shaking her head.

He tilted his head back for a second and then stared at her. “Benjamin Coleman.”

Her voice was weak, “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand? You don’t understand? For chrissake, Julia, your husband shot Benjamin Coleman! I thought you had that situation under control.”

She jumped at his words and cringed against the car door. “I mean, why would Lester do something like that?”

Both thought in silence for a full minute, then he said, “I don’t know what evidence the prosecution has, but the word around the courthouse is your husband is as good as convicted unless he has an airtight alibi. Do you know where he was last night?”

“He came in late.” She slowly shook her head. “What can we do?”

“Don’t get me involved in this, Julia!”

“Of course not, but you’re familiar with all this law stuff. Just tell me.”

“Well, first of all he needs an airtight alibi.”

“What sort of alibi would the police consider airtight?”

“You are a well-known and respected businesswoman. If he were home with you at the time of murder, it would create reasonable doubt in the minds of a jury. You understand, I’m not suggesting that you lie.”

“Of course not. And what else.”

“What do you know about this woman Lester is running around with?”

“I don’t even know her name.”

“Well, should we know her? Does she travel in our circle?”

“If she did I’d know her name.”

“Good, low-class is better. Find out her name and I’ll check into her background.”

“What does she have to do with this?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

S
andy and Detective Sergeant Eddy Jaworski exchanged broad smiles of greeting as they walked up to each other in the lobby of the Park Beach police station. Eddy was a short, banty-rooster type of guy wearing jeans and a black T-shirt with his faded Chicago Bears baseball cap pulled down almost touching his mirrored sunglasses. The city police served under the direction of the state attorney’s office. Detective Eddy Jaworski was the one exception, as he was assigned directly to state attorney Melvin Shapiro, bypassing the Chief of Police. Shapiro’s private number was on Jaworski’s phone and vice versa. The reason Shapiro wanted it that way was simple: Eddy Jaworski was a discreet friend, a smart detective who seldom screwed up. If you’re a cop long enough, you’ll make your share of mistakes. Jaworski was smart enough to profit from them and tough enough to do better.

In the past, Sandy and the detective had helped each other and would continue to do so without question, even though by the book they were adversaries. Clients of the defense attorneys were, by definition, in trouble with the police and the prosecutors. Over time, the trust had built up and the admiration and respect they had for each other made the odd relationship work. She had saved him from embarrassment many times by keeping her mouth shut or by giving him a heads up. And in turn, he might offer a little direction when she stumbled, or look the other way when she pushed the edge of legality. So many favors had flown between them they had long ago stopped keeping track. Off the job, they wished each other well, but had no further interest. Personally, a smile was all happily-married Eddy had ever wanted from her. He gave her the gift of a beautiful orchid plant once, but that was because he raised it, was proud of it and simply had to show it off to his friend. With no hidden agenda between them, the trust was unshakeable.

After they exchanged banter about their mutual well-being, she said, “I just noticed Lester Bardner’s name at the top of a police report as
Suspect
and your name at the bottom as
Assigned Detective
.”

“Mine all mine. You on the other side?” the detective asked.

“This’ll be the first time I’ve talked to him since the arrest, but it looks like I’ll be squaring off against you once again.”

“Too bad, little buddy. Hey, I’m working on an updated police report. I’ll see that you get it. We’ve got a little more info on the victim.” He flipped open his pocket notebook. “Benjamin Coleman, Miami Beach. We’re checking for priors and any local connections. We know he was staying at the local Holiday Inn.”

“Anything else you can tell me on the victim will be appreciated.” Eddy was too much cop to reveal any critical information to her, but he enjoyed being the first to tell her facts she’d learn eventually. She’d find a way to repay him. “How did you guys zero in on Lester Bardner so fast? The shooting was downtown in front of Mahoney’s restaurant, and Bardner lives across the bridge on the barrier island? You have a witness?”

“Better than a witness.” The detective frowned and shook his head, meaning he couldn’t say more, obviously bad news for her. “You want to see Bardner in the visiting room or his cell?”

“You don’t need to move him. He’s not dangerous. I’ll see him in his cell.” She thanked the detective and went on down to the detention area in the lower level of the police station, where the officer on jail duty recognized her, she was no stranger to the place, and led her down the hall to the row of six cells. She remembered the smell and feel of confinement. Unforgettable. That day Lester had the confines to himself; on a busy weekend there would have been others.

The officer unlocked the cell door, and she looked in on a quite different Lester Bardner than came into her office the day before, when his biggest problem seemed to be how to keep his wife’s money flowing while enjoying remarkable sex. He sat hunkered back in the far corner of his bunk, his arms holding his raised knees up against his chest, his face written with anxiety.

“Geez, Lester, you look strung out.” She hadn’t expected him to look any better after his first night in jail.

“Didn’t sleep. This place really stinks.”

“What’d you have to eat today? Any breakfast?”

“I wasn’t hungry. If you saw that tray, you’d know why. Will you get me out of all this? And I’m living in these clothes I threw on at the house when they arrested me. I need a lot of personal items, how do they handle that?”

“Do you take any meds in the morning?”

“Julia brought them.”

She motioned to the officer who was standing in the hall. “If he refuses the next meal, I want him seen by the doctor on duty. You want me to handle that?”

“No, I’ll tell the sergeant, Miss Reid.”

“I know there’s a so-called coffee machine in the hall. Any actual food in that other machine?”

“Bags of junk, candy bars, the usual.”

Lester heard him and muttered, “Shit.”

“The Welcome Wagon will be along any time now,” the officer said it with a straight face.

She asked, “You want any junk, Lester?”

“There are rats in here.”

She doubted he’d seen any. “Lester, you’re in a terrible situation. Right now, you’re at the city police station, this is a holding cell for temporary detention. Unless you’re released immediately, which ain’t gonna happen, you’ll soon be transferred out to the county prison. I can’t stop that. How long you stay out there depends on the evidence the police have.”

“Do they have rats out there?”

“No rats in here or out there, alligators maybe—no rats.”

“Is it any cleaner out there at the county prison?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. And you’ll be a member of the maintenance crew that keeps it that way. Disgusting place, nevertheless it’s clean.”

“I slept in these clothes. Can Julia bring me something decent?”

“The county has a plan for that. Orange is the new black.”

“I really miss her. Why can’t she see me whenever she wants? They have those damn visiting hours. Everything’s a bunch of rules. Come on, I’m counting on you to get me out of here!”

“I’m still thinking about whether to defend you.”

“Of course, you will defend me!” With a sorrowful look he said, “If I had a lot of money you’d help me. I’d be out of here in a flash.”

“Your wife agreed to pay me. You’re fortunate she feels so generous toward you.” She took out a yellow pad. “Whether I’m in, depends on what you have to say. Tell me what happened.”

“That’s easy. Julia shakes me in the middle of the night and says someone’s at the door.”

“Did the police read you your rights when they arrested you?”

“All that, right to remain silent, shit? Yes, and it sounded a lot more scary than on TV. I said I wanted a lawyer.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Did the police question you before they read you your rights?”

“They asked where I was that day, did I own a gun and did I know the guy who got shot. Stuff like that.”

“Okay, I’ll get into all those same questions.” She took out her yellow pad. “Now, how did you meet Benjamin Coleman?”

“Never met him. Never heard of him. Did you tell my wife about Sparkle? You’ve no right to tell her.”

“At this point, I don’t give a damn about you and Sparkle. My concern is Benjamin Coleman. The police report says he was parked at the curb and you shot him.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Well, they say it happened, and you’re in jail. I don’t yet know what evidence they have, some sort of witness, I’m told. But you’re telling me you’ve never met him, never heard of him.”

“Don’t know him from Adam.”

“They’ve tagged you with first-degree, so you can’t go bail on that. However, no connection between you and the victim means no motive. In the absence of motive, there’s a chance I can get the charge reduced and get you out on bail, but don’t count on it.”

“Come on, we both know money talks... you’ll get me out. Now if you told my wife about Sparkle, I will sue you.”

“I haven’t yet, only because she hasn’t asked.” Perhaps the guy was innocent, Sandy thought. He’s more concern about his love life than a death sentence. “Your wife told me about your argument with her when you came home Monday night. And to my great surprise, said she was embarrassed that she falsely accused you of cheating on her. Either she’s lying or you’re one incredible liar. Personally, I don’t think you could hide a needle from a blind man. The dumbest of wives catch on to the affairs of men far more clever than you.”

“If I thought she already knew, I wouldn’t have been worried about Sparkle telling her, now would I?”

“Like it or not, your lover’s name might well come out in the case anyway, then the entire town will know. I’m going to need her name and address eventually, and I truly hope she has a real name, so I can stop saying, Sparkle. I feel as though I’m talking about a dishwasher detergent.” She continued taking notes. “What was all that nonsense in my office about her threatening you?”

“No nonsense, she was threatening to tell Julia. When I was talking to you, I didn’t know I’d later be accused of murder the next day.”

“Where were you last night around 8 p.m.?”

“At Frankie’s Sports Bar watching the game... miles from where that guy was shot.”

“How’d you know where he was shot?”

He hesitated a few seconds too long, “I don’t... exactly. I guess someone said it was downtown.”

“What time did you leave the bar?”

“Didn’t pay much attention. I was there for the start of the Dolphin’s game at seven. Watched most of the game.”

“What was the score?”

“You can’t trap me that easily. I know the score of every Dolphin game ever played.”

“Can anyone verify you were there?”

“I suppose some of my buddies saw me there.”

“Name three.”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

The guy was a lousy liar. “Lester, what bothers me is the shooting was at Mahoney’s restaurant around eight p.m., at the same time you were a mile or so away at Frankie’s Sports Bar. And the cops were at your door at three a.m.. That’s pretty fast police work.” They hadn’t caught him at the scene. They tracked him down somehow. Detective Jaworski had just told her they had something better than a witness. “Either you dropped your wallet, were spotted at the scene by someone who knows your name or your vehicle was seen in the area. Even if someone sees you at the murder scene, it takes time to verify who you are, where you live and get an arrest warrant.”

“I have my wallet and my car was parked behind Frankie’s.”

She really needed to find out about the witness. She gathered up her notes. “Now remember, don’t talk about the shooting to anyone except me. Not another prisoner, a friend or a family member. No one. And don’t say anything on the phone. Everything on the phone is recorded. So clam up. Anything bad you say will be used against you, anything good you say will be ignored.”

“I already told Julia I didn’t do it.”

“Stop talking about it with her, talk about something else.”

“I simply said I didn’t do it, same as I said to the police.”

“Geez Louise, when did you say that?”

“After I said I wanted a lawyer. I wanted to explain why I refused to answer. That’s when I told them I didn’t do it.”

“So, first you told them you refused to answer, and then you told them you didn’t do it. That is answering! Not good. Don’t deny it to anyone again.”

“I don’t understand, isn’t it good to say I didn’t do it?”

“It’s bad to say anything. I don’t know what the evidence is. Perhaps they have definite evidence you committed this crime. In which case, I might want to argue you were justified in doing it, but you’ve already said you didn’t do it. So, we’ve lost our credibility and it sounds terrible in the courtroom. The prosecution can ask, are you lying now, or were you lying back then when you said you didn’t do it.”

“You can’t really expect me to admit I killed him. How big a fool do you think I am?”

“I’m still deciding on that. You need to start being honest with me. We’ve got a lot more to cover.”

The smugness was still on his face. “So now what do I do?”

“Keep your chin up and your mouth shut.”

The guy didn’t look tough enough for jail time. Give him a couple nights out at the county prison and the seriousness of his situation would sink in. If his depression didn’t destroy him first. Then she could start to get some serious answers out of him. It was early. The serious questions could come later. Ideally, he would start confiding in her. Then she could sort out the favorable and the unfavorable.

She motioned to the officer. She left the cell area and walked up the hall. One thing was certain and worrisome. State attorney Mel Shapiro would never casually throw around a first-degree murder charge. He had solid evidence, or he would have taken a lesser step such as tagging Lester as a person of interest, while the investigation progressed. And what is it they have that’s
better than a witness
?

What she would like to do was to see Shapiro immediately and ask him in person. Mel would see her, she hadn’t the slightest doubt about that, but she might have to wait. She called him on his private line as she walked. No, he wasn’t too busy to see her. In fact, he was eager to see her. He had some seriously incriminating evidence that she should see at once. She didn’t like the sound of that.