Authors: Phillip Margolin
Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Action & Adventure, #United States, #Crime & Thriller, #Adventure, #Sale of organs; tissues; etc.
Wild Justice Also by Phillip Margolin Heartstone The Last Innocent Man Gone, but Not Forgotten After Dark The Burning Man The Undertaker s Widow
Wild Justice
Phillip Margolin This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher. WILD JUSTICE. Copyright 2001 by Phillip Margolin. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of PerfectBound . PerfectBound and the PerfectBound logo are trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers. MS Reader edition v 1. July 2001 ISBN 0-06-621026-7 Print edition first published in 2000 HarperCollins Publishers 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Contents PerfectBound Special Feature: An Interview with Phillip Margolin Epigraph: Revenge is a kind of wild justice. Part 1: Cardoni s Hand Chapter 1 A lightning flash illuminated the Learjet that waited Chapter 2 The deputy district attorney had asked three questions Chapter 3 Mary Sandowski burst through the operating room Chapter 4 Martin Breach s sandy hair was thinning, his drab Chapter 5 Dr. Carleton Swindell, the hospital administrator Chapter 6 Mary Sandowski s eyes opened. Wherever she was Chapter 7 Amanda Jaffe executed a flip turn and felt her foot Chapter 8 The weather in Portland was cold and wet, and Chapter 9 The gravel in the nearly empty parking lot of the Chapter 10 An hour later Bobby Vasquez turned onto the two Chapter 11 Milton County sheriff Clark Mills, a sleepy-eyed man Chapter 12 Sean McCarthy came to the crime scene because of Chapter 13 Frank Jaffe was an excellent storyteller. Chapter 14 Bobby Vasquez parked in his assigned spot in the lot Chapter 15 Frank Jaffe sat in a back booth in Stokely s Cafn Chapter 16 Every weekday morning Carleton Swindell rowed Chapter 17 Seven years ago a white grocery clerk had mistakenly Chapter 18 Bobby Vasquez found Sean McCarthy neck deep in Chapter 19 Amanda was half an hour late for her date with Chapter 20 On hot summer nights the Carrington, Vermont Chapter 21 The Cardoni case had created big-city parking problems Chapter 22 Any witnesses for the defendant, Mr. Jaffe? Chapter 23 Martin Breach was hunkered down over a slab of Chapter 24 There was a message from Herb Cross on the Chapter 25 Granite cherubs and gargoyles peered down on Chapter 26 Eugene Pritchard and Ed Gordon were intelligent Chapter 27 Bobby Vasquez knocked an empty bottle of whiskey Chapter 28 Art Prochaska entered Martin Breach s office in the Chapter 29 The phone was ringing. Amanda sat up in bed and Chapter 30 Amanda spotted her father coming off the 9:35 P.M. Chapter 31 The first thing that Bobby Vasquez noticed when Part 2 Ghost Lake Chapter 32 At eight o clock on a blustery Friday evening Chapter 33 Andrew Volkov performed his custodial duties at Chapter 34 On this moonless Sunday night, even with his high Chapter 35 It took three rings to drag Amanda out of a deep Chapter 36 Prior to 1983 the Multnomah County jail was an Chapter 37 Mike Greene dealt with rapists, killers and criminal Chapter 38 By the time Amanda staggered home to her loft it Chapter 39 Mike Greene grew up in Los Angeles, married his Chapter 40 The weather front that had bedeviled Oregon for Chapter 41 The man stepped out of the shadows, blocking the Chapter 42 That night Amanda slept like the dead and through Chapter 43 The view from Carleton Swindell s office had not Chapter 44 The reservation at the Fish Hatchery was for eight Chapter 45 When Bobby Vasquez had called earlier for an Chapter 46 Mike Greene had asked Fred Scofield to send him a Chapter 47 The matron closed the door to the visiting room Chapter 48 Amanda broke into a smile when the receptionist Chapter 49 Andrew Volkov moved his cleaning cart against the Chapter 50 Amanda walked from the Stockman Building Chapter 51 It had been three days since the crime lab had Chapter 52 The guard let Justine Castle into the interview Chapter 53 In order to develop expertise, the judges Chapter 54 Reporters swarmed around Vincent Cardoni as Chapter 55 Bobby Vasquez was waiting when Justine Castle Chapter 56 Vincent Cardoni slept through the night and awoke Chapter 57 Amanda was working on a discovery motion when Chapter 58 In the morning Tony left for St. Francis and Chapter 59 They waited in the kitchen for the ambulance and Chapter 60 Even with Cardoni locked in the secure wing at St . Chapter 61 Amanda was furious with herself for visiting Chapter 62 The orderly on duty outside the secured ward Chapter 63 Sean McCarthy and Alex DeVore followed Mike Chapter 64 God, it s good to see you, Tony, Amanda said Chapter 65 Something s wrong, Mike Greene said. He, Alex Chapter 66 Tony Fiori came to slowly. His vision was blurred Chapter 67 Two weeks after her escape, Amanda was reviewing Epilogue The three men who were playing cards looked up Acknowledgements About the Author Credits About PerfectBound e-Books For Jean Naggar Thanks for making my dreams come true. Revenge is a kind of wild justice. Francis Bacon
Acknowledgments Many generous people helped me research and write Wild Justice. My thanks to Janet Billups; Ted Falk; Drs. Nathan and Karen Selden; Claudia Gravett; Dr. Jay Mead; Dr. Don Girard; Marlys Pierson; Rabbi Emanuel Rose; Carole Byrum; Debi Wilkinson; Maggie Frost; Brian Hawke; the Honorable Susan Svetkey and the equally honorable Larry Matasar; Joseph, Eleonore, Judy, and Jerry Margolin; Helen and Norman Stamm; Dr. Roy Magnusson; Dr. Edward Grossenbacher; Dr. Michael Palmer; Drs. Rob and Carol Unitan; Dr. Stanley Abrams; and Jerry Elshire. Special thanks go to my tireless and relentless editor, Dan Conaway. Every reader who enjoys reading Wild Justice should also thank him. And thanks also to Bob Spizer for his useful insights. I also want to thank Jean Naggar for finding me a home at HarperCollins and, as always, thank you to everyone else at Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency: You are the best. And finally to Doreen, Daniel and Ami, thanks for putting up with me.
Wild Justice
1 A lightning flash illuminated the Learjet that waited on the runway of the private airstrip moments before a thunderclap startled Dr. Clifford Grant. Grant scanned the darkness for signs of life, but there were no other cars in the lot and no one moving on the tarmac. When he checked his watch his hand trembled. It was 11:35. Breach s man was five minutes late. The surgeon stared at the glove compartment. A sip from his flask would steady his nerves, but he knew where that would lead. He had to be thinking clearly when they brought the money. Large drops fell with increasing speed. Grant turned on his wipers at the same moment a huge fist rapped on his passenger door. The doctor jerked back and stared. For an instant he thought the rain was distorting his vision; but the man glaring at him through the window was really that big, a monster with a massive, shaved skull and a black knee-length leather coat. Open the door, the giant commanded, his voice harsh and frightening. Grant obeyed instantly. A chill wind blew a fine spray into the car. Where is it? In the trunk, Grant said, the words catching in his throat as he jerked his thumb backward. The man tossed an attachase into the car and slammed the door shut. Water beaded the smooth sides of the briefcase and made the brass locks glisten. The money! Grant wondered how much the recipient was going to pay for the heart, if he and his partner were receiving a quarter of a million dollars. Two rapid thumps brought Grant around. The giant was pounding on the trunk. He had forgotten to pop the release. As Grant reached for the latch another lightning flash lit the view through his rear window and the cars that had appeared from nowhere. Without thinking, he floored the accelerator and cranked the wheel. The giant dove away with amazing agility as the sedan careened across the asphalt, leaving the smell of burning rubber. Grant was vaguely aware of the screech of metal on metal as he blasted past one of the police cars and took out part of a chain-link fence. Shots were fired, glass shattered and the car tipped briefly on two wheels before righting itself and speeding into the night. The next thing Clifford Grant remembered clearly was banging frantically on his partner s back door. A light came on, a curtain moved and his partner glared at him in disbelief before opening the door. What are you doing here? The police, Grant gasped. A raid. At the airfield? Let me in, for God s sake. I ve got to get in. Grant stumbled inside. Is that the money? Grant nodded and staggered to a seat at the kitchen table. Let me have it. The doctor pushed the briefcase across the table. It opened with a clatter of latches, revealing stacks of soiled and crumpled hundred-dollar bills bound by rubber bands. The lid slammed shut. What happened? Wait. Got to. . . catch my breath. Of course. And relax. You re safe now. Grant hunched over, his head between his knees. I didn t make the delivery. What! One of Breach s men put the money on the front seat. The heart was in the trunk. He was about to open it when I saw police cars. I panicked. I ran. And the heart is . . . ? Still in the trunk. Are you telling me that you stiffed Martin Breach? We ll call him, Grant said. We ll explain what happened. A harsh laugh answered him. Clifford, you don t explain something like this to Breach. Do you understand what you ve done? You have nothing to worry about, Grant answered bitterly. Martin has no idea who you are. I m the one who has to worry. We ll just have to return the money. We didn t do anything wrong. The police were there. You re certain he doesn t know who I am? I never mentioned your name. Grant s head dropped into his hands and he began to tremble. He ll come after me. Oh, God. You don t know that for sure, his partner answered in a soothing tone. You re just frightened. Your imagination is running wild. The shaking grew worse. I don t know what to do. Strong fingers kneaded the tense muscles of Grant s neck and shoulders. The first thing you ve got to do is get hold of yourself. The hands felt so comforting. It was what Grant needed, the touch and concern of another human being. Breach won t bother you, Clifford. Trust me, I ll take care of everything. Grant looked up hopefully. I know some people, the voice assured him calmly. People who can talk to Breach? Yes. So relax. Grant s head fell forward from relief and fatigue. The adrenaline that had powered him through the past hour was wearing off. You re still tense. What you need is a drink. Some ice-cold Chivas. What do you say? The true extent of Grant s terror could be measured by the fact that he had not even thought of taking a drink since he saw the police through his rear window. Suddenly every cell in his body screamed for alcohol. The fingers lifted; a cupboard door closed; Grant heard the friendly clink of ice bouncing against glass. Then a drink was in his hand. He gulped a quarter of the contents and felt the burn. Grant closed his eyes and raised the cold glass to his feverish forehead. There, there, his partner said as a hand slapped smartly against the base of Grant s neck. Grant jerked upright, confused by the sharp sting of the ice pick as it passed through his brain stem with textbook precision. The doctor s head hit the tabletop with a thud. Grant s partner smiled with satisfaction. Grant had to die. Even thinking about returning a quarter of a million dollars was ridiculous. What to do with the heart, though? The surgeon sighed. The procedure to remove it had been performed flawlessly, but it was all for nothing. Now the organ would have to be cut up, pureed and disposed of as soon as Grant took its place in the trunk.