Chapter 14 A Lead in the Case
Musical Theme; This Old Flame by Juice Newton
In the morning, evidence techs had run a fingerprint they could not eliminate. It belonged to an Edward Mack. Mack had a lightweight record mostly involving small amounts of cocaine. After consultation with the task force, Will called Mack’s lawyer, Rodney Bale.
“Rod. Will Ames.”
“Will, what’s up?”
“You have Edward Mack in your list of unfortunates?”
“I do.”
“I want to talk to him about a fingerprint we found in a crime scene.”
“Well, we might not want to admit anything.”
“I don’t care about recreational quantities of drugs. This is the case you think it is.”
“Can he help without getting in trouble?”
“I could forget all about a half ounce of coke, say.”
“That will do it for us. We’ll see you in 20 minutes or so.”
“Great.”
A little bird flew in the door in brown linen pants, a green satin blouse, and a linen vest with black Phillipa boots. She fluttered over and landed in the chair next to Will. “Nice they found you so fast Poquita.”
“A lead, maybe. We’re going to talk to Edward Mack, who left a fingerprint at the scene, and maybe knows something. I said I could write off a half ounce of coke, and his lawyer is bringing him to talk to us.”
“Then he isn’t the perp or an accessory.”
“Right you are.”
Rodney Bale and Edward Mack came in. They were seated.
“Rod, I have agreed to blow off a half ounce of cocaine if it comes in this story. That is your understanding?”
“That’s right, Will.”
“How does your fingerprint get on that switch cover, Edward?”
“I sold the guy 4 grams of coke.”
“Did he owe someone, some big dope deal?”
“Saturday night party kind of thing. Nothing like that. What they did.”
“I can’t imagine you doing this crime over something like that. I would wonder if the Cali Cartel would do that.”
The detectives spent about 40 minutes on him, and his lawyer took him home.
Will looked at them. “He was in his lawyer’s office when I called, I think. Probably wanting to know how he could help without getting charged with his little coke thing.”
Detective Sergeant Pete Summers spoke. “That’s right. He would not have done this. It’s not a drug thing, even.” One of the detectives left to take a phone call. A guy had seen a white car with a smear of yellow paint on the fender. Not known in the neighborhood. He came back in and told the group. A lot of phone calls got made, and one of them came up with a body shop that had repaired and repainted a car that sounded right. The witness had noticed the license plate had the letters BIZ on it, and that checked. The owner of the car was a guy who had been charged once with a homicide with a knife. The case had been lost on a failure of proof. Will got a warrant for the guy’s arrest and the house and car.
Poquita and the Swat team were called out. They hit the guy’s house. Derrick opened the door in his inimitable way. Carlos and Robert went one way, Tommy and Mike the other. Poquita followed Bridget. Tommy had a guy down on the floor, and Poquita cuffed him. He was served with the warrants for arrest and search, and the house got looked into very carefully. A knife that looked just right went into evidence. The guy got put in the jail. The evidence techs did the house. There was visible blood on the steering wheel of the car.
The next day, Will met with Jessie Holt. “What do you want to do with him, Jessie?”
“Drag him behind my car for 50 miles.”
“Since we are officers of the court?”
“Incapacitate him. I’d like to see him dead, but like you always say, it’s more or less pointless. The People’s interest in it is that he is stopped. Rationally, life without. But I do want to try this case and kill him.”
When counsel was appointed, it was one of Will’s favorite friends, Mary Lane. She interviewed her client at the jail, and then came to the DA office.
“Mary, I want to resolve this fast. He did it. We have DNA. We have all kinds of evidence.”
A secretary put a bunch of discovery in front of Mary. She looked it over, and it did not look good.
“We can do life without. Jessie wants to try it. She will win it, and your guy will be executed.”
“What about the other cases?”
“Idaho or Colorado may prosecute anyway. Or they may be satisfied that he is going to be locked up for the rest of his life. From what I have seen, he had so much stuff in the house that either jurisdiction can get him.”
“What will you do?”
“Let the lionesses do whatever they want to do.”
“What do they want, speaking hypothetically?”
“They want to see me beat him to death with my fists, which I wouldn’t mind doing, but for being an officer of the court.”
“I may be instructed by my client to take this case to trial.”
“In that case, my office will try an impeccably honest case. There will be no discovery games, no police perjury, and no discourtesy to you.”
“I’ll talk to him. Is there a time limit on this offer?”
“I don’t want to play that. You have to tell us pretty soon if you want to try it or plead it, but let’s leave that for a while, see how things go.”
They shook hands, and she left.
Will came out to a media riot.
“Calm down, everyone.”
They did.
“Will, do you have a suspect in custody?”
“We do.”
“Do you have a good case against him?”
“It looks like a very good case to me.”
“Will you ask for the death penalty?”
“I will not be trying the case.”
“Why wouldn’t you try the case of the decade?”
“Because Steve assigned it to Jessie Holt.”
“Will your wife be involved in the trial?”
“She will have to ask Jessie Holt if she wants to be. She can’t ask me for a pencil. I do not supervise her. Her supervision ends with Steve the mouse.”
“Isn’t that a disrespectful way to refer to someone?”
“I don’t see it that way and neither does the mouse. If something incapacitated me, Steve would take over the office, and do, I think, a great job. He’s a hell of a lawyer, and a masterful administrator.”
“What is your opinion of Lewis Dane?”
“I think he is a pretty nasty guy. But a trial might prove me wrong.”
“Is he innocent until proven guilty?”
“You’re damned right he is!”
“The previous DA would have asked for death and tried the case himself?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you have a different approach?”
“Jessie Holt runs homicide in my office. She decides what happens on those cases. I confer with her and Steve on them, but we mostly advise. She has never done anything I consider unethical. If she did, we would put a stop to it, but she hasn’t and wouldn’t. If her judgment was unsound, I would tell her, but it is not, and even if it was, I would not reverse her decision because I disagreed.”
“Would you watch the execution if your office did obtain the death penalty?”
“No. I’ve seen people die before.”
“Will, is it true that you have PTSD?”
“Yes.”
“Could that lead to something like this?”
“I don’t think so. Not to hurt children like that. No.”
“Could it lead to the use of excessive force?”
“Yes.”
“Can you justify a PTSD victim being in law enforcement?”
“Sure. Some things are so dangerous that you need to send in a psychotic lion.”
“Are you a psychotic lion?”
“Kitty is just a little touchy is all. Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ve done this, and I thank you for your consideration and kindness. You will know what’s happening. This office will be as open as appropriate. I wish you a good day and good stories.”
He went back in. He got a cup of coffee and went to the conference room. Jessie came in. “You backed me up, whatever I do, I’m right.”
“You are.”
Steve came in. “Thanks for the compliments.”
“When I’m gone, I would like to see one of you two in charge. Jessie likes trying cases a little too much, so you would be my first choice, Steve.”
Jessie smiled. “Steve would be my first choice, too.”
Poquita knocked at the open door.
“Come in.”
“I did it, Will.”
“I hear.”
“The Portland paper took my picture with the SWAT team all around me with big guns and all.”
She had a pile of files. “I still have all this to read.”
The phone rang. Jessie picked it up. “On the way.” She hung up. “Will, I am going to C7 to do a COP. Lewis Dane told Mary Lane he wanted to do it, so he is.”
Everyone went upstairs to C7, and watched the judge go through the text in the Oregon Criminal Judge’s Bench Book. Lewis Dane admitted to killing six people, and at his request was sentenced at that time to life without. Nobody had ever seen a murder case closed that fast. There was lots of speculation as to why it had gone that way.
The media wanted a press conference. Will met with Steve and Jessie.
“They want a press conference. Why don’t you guys do it?”
“You don’t want to?”
“I will. I’m not running for governor or congress. It might help you, Janet, it you go into private practice some day, or you, Steve, if you run for DA some day.”
“You’re not worried about me running against you?”
“I don’t care that much about this job anyway, you couldn’t beat me, beside which, that’s not what you will do. When I decide I want to leave, you can run with my endorsement, and beat anybody short of the Archangel Michael.”
“No surprise, you have it all figured out. Jessie, shall we do a press conference?”
“Let’s.”
They did it quickly.
Will asked Poquita to call everyone to dinner. She got Hank, Carol, herself and Quint, of course, Chrissie, Marie and Alan, and Mel and Katie. They went to Asia Palace. Mama put them in the banquet room, and they got the house special, with a few exceptions. Lots of butterfly shrimp and pot stickers.
Poquita said, “Looks like a case in Texas. They already have his fingerprints, so we see tomorrow on that. Will he be extradited?”
“Sure he will.” Will said. “And Texas will execute him.”
What happened was, Texas moved the next day to extradite him, he waived extradition, a case he could not have won. Oregon gave him a one way ticket to Texas, and a few years later Texas gave him the one way ticket of all one way tickets.
Poquita told everyone about Quint’s fishes. He mentioned the job for the architects, and she wanted to work on it.
“Will, can I get time off without pay to do the fish thing?”
“Yeah. I like having you up front, but we can do without you now and then.”
Quint asked Poquita if she wanted to look at the job after dinner, and work on the plans for the tanks. She did. He called Greg, who was working late anyway. Sure, Greg would like to talk about tank plans.
“He will be there tonight. Do you want to go over after dinner?”
“Yeah.”
Quint told Greg they would see him in an hour or two.
The waitress came in with the remote for the TV. She put it by Will. “Your people are about to be on Channel 2.”
Will turned the set on, and adjusted the volume while someone tried to sell life insurance. “Save your money, drive an old car, and buy your family a home. Whether you live or die, they will have a roof over their heads. Forget funeral expenses. Donate your body to science, you won’t pay a dime, and lots of good things can be done with the parts you have no need for.”
Chrissie laughed. “You could almost come out with the idea that Will doesn’t think much of life insurance.”
The interview came on.
“Mr. Mouse…”
“Mouse is a nickname. Call me Steve or call me Mouse. Either is fine.”
“Steve, we heard that Lewis Dane pled guilty on the 6 murders.”
“He did so. Jessie Holt offered him life without.”
“What did DA Ames say?”
“Do what you want to. It’s your case.”
“Ms. Holt, did you discuss the case with DA Ames?”
“I’m Mrs. Holt or Jessie. Our DA is Will, or if you really have to, you can call him Mr. District Attorney. You don’t call him Sir if you know his name, unless you’re a jarhead.”
“That’s not a very respectful way to refer to the Marines, is it, Mrs. Holt?”
“I have a great deal of respect for the jarheads, Ma’am. In answer to your original question, I did discuss the case with Will. He wanted this guy put where he could not hurt anyone. He thinks the death penalty is too expensive to be practical, and too likely to be used on the wrong person.”
“Steve, would Chrissie have been second chair if this case went to trial?”
“No. She isn’t ready for this heavy a case. We will probably move her up some day. Office policy is to prepare everyone to do the next job up. Chrissie is sui generis. Her supervision stops at me.”
“Is that an advantage?”
“A disadvantage. Someone asks for something, I don’t feel like letting them have it, they ask to see Will, and he gives it to them. Chrissie can’t get the time of day from Will. He refused to show her how to make a conference call. He would show a brand new secretary how to do it, but not her.”
“What do you think will happen to Mr. Dane in Texas?”
“Death.”
“Folks, we’re talked out. Go file, and I hope your editors like your stories.”
* * *
Chrissie turned off the TV. “They did well.”
“They did.”
“Will,” Carol said, “What will Marcie do?”
“Just among us, she will be asked to do a new product. A big player like Macy’s or Frank’s. They will offer her a seven three as a sign on bonus. Only one little thing she has to do.”
“Get Merlin the Magician to agree to shoot it. What will she do to get him to agree?”
“Something between extortion and murder, I imagine.”
“Suppose you already know the photographer thinks the nicest house in the world is near Scanzano, in Southern Italy.”
“Would this house be for sale?”
“Most likely for small change. Probably not even ten million US.”
“What sort of amenities?”
“Oh, the usual hundred or so acres, olive trees, vineyard, fruit trees, a little creek runs into the Med from it, and there is a dock on the creek. Not a big dock, but if you had what Marcie calls an itsy bitsy yacht, you could tie up there.”
“How itsy bitsy would that be?”
“Awfully small, Chrissie. Last time I was there, they had a 125 footer, and she had go upstream ½ mile to turn around. She didn’t have a bow thruster, though.”
“What would you need to do a ten nautical mile radius in reasonably nice weather?”
“A 12 foot aluminum boat with a 20. If I was taking you, let’s say a 19 foot Carolina skiff with two 50’s.”
“Do you suppose any kind of offer like this is coming?”
“Yes.”
“Based on?”
“It happens.”
They went home and went to sleep, uh, well..
* * *
Two days later, the offer came. Aurora clothing, which sold everything from underwear and negligees to evening dresses and business suits for women, would hire Marcie and Will for a four year sales campaign. In the George Patton sense of campaign. Sign on bonuses, a custom seven three for Marcie, the plane she had always needed. For Will, the house near Scanzano, still furnished, with a car, a pickup and a dump truck, and a 65 foot commercial fish boat, steel hull, that had the bottom done a week before. Not a yacht, but it did have twin diesels. They would pay Will two hundred thousand a year, and Marcie two million. Will said ‘we will think about it.’
They came back with three hundred for Will and two and a half million for Marcie, and they would pay another hundred thousand to remodel the fish boat. There was a complex provision with mortgage and trust deed, and payments considered received at this time and another, which meant Will wouldn’t have to pay the taxes on the income received in the form of the house and boat. You would have to be a tax lawyer to understand it, and even then, you might not find it interesting, masterpiece though it was.
Chrissie looked at the offer. “Will, say yes before they recover their senses.”
He did. The contract was faxed, signed, and faxed back.
They went to the DA office and submitted their resignations. Will put Steve in charge. Clara Hart from Channel 2 got the story. Steve would run for DA, Will thought he was the man for the job. A couple of suitcases and a big case for cameras and a duffle were on hand. The car came and took Will and Chrissie to the airport. They went into the private aviation area, and boarded the seven three. The seven three was decorated with all the subtlety one might expect of Marcie. It had ‘Marcie Della’ on the side of it in letters larger than an airline would have used. The same on top of, and on the bottoms of the wings. Up front and also aft, the fuselage had pictures of Marcy on it. So did the vertical stabilizer.
It ripped down the runway and jumped into the air. A seven three gets up there pretty fast with two Pratt-Whitney JT8D engines, but this seemed a little out of the ordinary.
Marcie walked in.
Will stood. “I didn’t know you were aboard, Marcie.”
“Well, I am. Bet that takeoff made you wonder.”
“It did.”
“My little birdie has some fantasy mills. It’s the latest thing in Seven Threes. Did you like the way my little birdie got off the ground?”
“I did. You like that sort of thing so much, I might have to see if I can get you a ride in an F-(you don’t want to know).”
“I do want a ride in one of those.”
Will took out his phone and dialed. “Peter? This is Paul. You know my flight plan? The owner of this bird would like to ride in a two seat fast mover. Thanks.”
“We probably have it on for tonight, Captain Riggs.”
“When will we know, Will?”
“If we get special landing instructions, Skipper.”
Captain Riggs let his co-pilot take a break and put Will in the co-pilot seat.
“Will, how long will this be on for?”
“Four years.”
“You should get a pilot’s license. You can get an Italian one and not have all the crap with homeland security.”
Will showed him his ONI credentials.
“Classified rank. Most likely you don’t rake the leaves around the commissary, and the guy you called that can get someone a ride in a fighter, he wouldn’t be a motor pool mechanic.”
“You’re a heck of a guesser.”
“Give her a feel.”
Will gently turned and banked, and ran her up and down a little. “Lithe and powerful. Stable, powerful, and silky. I always liked seven threes to ride in, but to fly, wow.”
I’m an I.P. So you can get a license pretty easy. I think we should do it if you will be doing this for four years. We do these little jumps, and I need a co-pilot but just to be there. Or maybe to put her on autopilot and watch radar while I get a nap.”
“We will.”
He picked up his phone. “Peter? This is Paul. Can I have two tickets to the Circus? Thanks.”
“You will be riding in an F-(whatever) also.”
“Great. Do you think we might get to ride in the F-(you don’t want to know)?”
“Most likely.”
* * *
They set down, and special instructions from the tower directed them to a runway that did not lead to the concourse. They put down their stairway. A man in Italian Air Force coveralls took Marcie and John Riggs in a car. They went in a hanger and put on coveralls.
A jet fighter accelerates at about four times the rate of a dragster. By the time a dragster hits 250 miles an hour, the fighter is doing 1,000, and jumping into the air. If you tried to drag race an F-14, you would get passed a couple hundred feet down the track, and the F-14s back wash would blow you off the track.
These birds were not F-14s. They were F-(you don’t want to know)s. They had a thrust to weight ratio of 3.2 to one. They came by the seven three doing about 100 knots, and then jammed it on. The seven three shook as they ripped by. They jumped into the air, and turned straight up. They could go up twice as fast as they could fall. They howled up to the stratosphere, wingtips almost touching.
“Like those, Chrissie?”
“If you showed me in a movie, I would have been sure it was special effects.”
“You won’t see those in movies real soon.”
“How high are they going?”
“If I knew, I couldn’t say, but I would guess about 80,000 feet.”
“Sixteen miles into the sky.”
“We do this to hurt each other. Could you imagine what we could do to help each other?”
“You’re depressed, Will?”
“No, about the same as always. My pathology is mostly sudden intense anger. I do sadness like everyone, but maybe more of it. I don’t suffer from depression.”
“Then get with this. You just got the most beautiful house in the world. You just got a contract to make so much money we will never want again. You got a nice steel boat and it’s going to be remade into a kind of hard guy yacht. You have me, and I sure hope you are not reconsidering that. You are at the pinnacle. You’re Hillary on the top of Everest, slapping Tensing Norgay on the back. If you’re not happy now, when will you ever be?
He held her. “I love you. I am not reconsidering that. That is the center; it’s the origin I measure everything from. I just don’t know about everything else.”
They went to bed.
In the morning, everyone was cheerful, even Will. He called Poquita. “Would you rather work for me or the DA office?”
“I work for you. The DA office is just where you sent me.”
“I want you in Italy. Can you get used to not being with Quint, or bring him here?”
“He has people to do the fish. We will come to Italy.”
“You know the address?”
“Sure.”
“Does it make more sense for you to go there, or for us to come get you?”
“If you are in no huge hurry, more sense for you to come get us. Are we going to be in Italy for long?”
“Most likely, very long.”
“Bring the bird back. We will be ready, give us an ETA and we will get a car.”
“You can bring nothing or everything. If you go back, I will see it freighted.”
“I would empty my apartment, but I’d still owe a month rent and I can’t pack in a day.”
“Hire movers, ask the landlord for a break. If he tries to shaft you on the deposit or whatever, he should be aware who you work for. Get your good stuff in boxes, forget the old sofa kind of thing, and we will put it on the 737 and take it to Italy.”
“I’m with it Will.”
Will had his own junk, and Chrissie’s put in a truck, and they headed to Scanzano. He left a message on Aurora’s machine. They went to the house.
The car, pickup and the little dump truck were there.
Inside, the house was clean. The housekeeper, Anita, was happy to hear she still had a job. The workers took the stuff inside. They hung the clothes more or less as they had been. Will asked Anita if she wanted to work a lot of overtime or bring someone in to help with all the details. She wanted the overtime, so Will had her go through the boxes, filling the dressers and all. She got a little nervous about the guns. Will showed her an ID showing he worked for the Carabiniere, a Colonel, actually. When and where had he gotten that? Was it real?
When they had gone, Chrissie asked him.
“It’s a courtesy, honey. It’s a real ID, but nobody expects me to do anything, except if they need a favor, and they know I will help out. It means I can carry guns if I like, and I do. If someone ever comes and wants to hurt you, then I want to have a gun. That’s not so complicated, is it?”
“So this would go on in the United States. Like someone who has an FBI ID might actually be Mossad. Where does it end?”
“Where do lies end in intelligence? Never. The former Mossad guy would not do something against the United States. You are trusted by an ally and given an ID, and you are obliged to be honorable in every respect.”
“I wish I’d never heard any of this.”
“Get this real straight. You didn’t hear it, don’t know it, never did, never will, under no circumstances will you discuss it, it never happened, you were not there, you didn’t hear it, you have no idea what people are talking about. You’re mystified by this whole bunch of talk, which cannot be right.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Great.”
There was still enough light left to walk around a little. The house was stone and brick, surrounded by stone walls and stone stairways that led out of its various exterior doors. Large gently pruned flowering shrubs were all over. There were some nice perenni