Attorney-Client Privilege (34 page)

“I
can’t believe she actually showed up,” Detective Thomas whispered to Mankowski, his words dripping with glee.

They stood in the hallway outside the room where a technician was hooking Girlie Cortez up to a polygraph machine.

Mankowski couldn’t believe it either when Girlie marched into the station fifteen minutes early for their appointment. She was wearing a shorter-than-short red cotton dress with red leather boots that snaked up over her knees. Every officer in the squad room gave her a lustful double-take as she sashayed by.

Girlie was certainly no dummy. While she continued to profess that she was telling the truth and that the test would prove it, she insisted on an agreement in writing that the polygraph results could not be used against her for any purpose. She also wanted an agreement that the results would be destroyed immediately after the test. She was taking the test she said, solely to prove her innocence to Mankowski.

Mankowski was flattered that his opinion meant so much to her. He readily signed the agreement since the tests weren’t admissible in court anyway. He hoped like hell that she did pass so he could screw her again. But after the information he’d gotten from Vernetta Henderson, he seriously doubted that she would.

“You think she knows how to beat it?” Detective Thomas asked.

Mankowski shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

If the results turned out to be inconclusive, that would be everyone’s assumption. They entered an adjacent room where Vernetta and Special were seated at a table.

“This is gonna be good,” Special said, rubbing her palms together. “You guys going to arrest her as soon as she fails the test?”

This chick was way too excited about bringing down Girlie. Women bent on revenge made him nervous.

“Ladies, like I told you—”

“We know,” Vernetta said, interrupting him. “Having us here is a violation of department procedure. We won’t get in the way and we won’t come out of this room until you tell us to. Promise.”

“You sure we can’t watch?” Special said, pleadingly. “Can you put us in one of those rooms with the two-way mirrors?”

“No,” Mankowski said, and followed his partner out of the room.

“You think they’ll really stay in there?” Thomas asked.

“I hope so. But I’m a little concerned about the mouthy one.”

Thomas grinned. “I got a feeling we’re in for some real fireworks.”

“You have no idea,” Mankowski said. “We have some additional guests to greet. Follow me.”

Detective Thomas looked confused as he watched Mankowski enter a room a few feet down the hallway.

Thomas almost lost his lunch when he saw Rita Richards-Kimble and Evelyn Kimble sitting around a small table that was usually reserved for suspected criminals. They were accompanied by two men who bore all the appearances of big-firm lawyers.

“How much longer is this going to take?” said a gray-headed, Brooks Brothers’ type. Mankowski presumed he was Rita’s attorney because the two of them were sitting off to the side.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Mankowski said.

“Nelson. Barry Nelson. I’m a partner with Sheppard, Mullen & Reed and I represent Ms. Richards-Kimble.” He plucked a card from a diamond-studded card case. “My client doesn’t have to be here. She came voluntarily. Against my advice, by the way.”

“We really appreciate your cooperation,” Mankowski said. “It’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“Do you have a card?” the other suit asked Mankowski. “I’m Marcus Winbush and I represent Evelyn Kimble.”

The fact that the CEO and general counsel had each hired their own attorney was a good sign. They were already drawing battle lines.

“Are you a partner too?” Mankowski asked, though he didn’t really care.

“Uh, no.” The guy had the boyish face of a twelve-year-old. “I’m a senior associate with Haskins & Summers. My client is only here to listen.”

They traded business cards and Mankowski backed out of the room.

“Man, you’re not just playing with fire, you’re playing with dynamite,” Thomas said.

“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this and bringing all this estrogen together just might give us some answers. Let’s do this.”

Girlie smiled when Mankowski entered the polygraph room. Her legs were opened just enough to be enticing. Mankowski wondered if she was wearing any underwear. Maybe her goal was to get the examiner so hot and bothered that he couldn’t read the machine correctly.

“You have the questions?” Mankowski asked the examiner.

Martin Grundy was a computer geek who’d been conducting polygraph tests for decades. “Yep. I already explained the process.”

Girlie repositioned herself in the chair as if she was trying to get comfortable, then winked at Mankowski. Her right arm rested on a table. Wires led from her fingers and arm to what looked like a laptop that sat on the table in front of Grundy.

The two detectives left and walked into an adjacent room where they could observe the testing through a large window. They had a clear view of Grundy’s computer screen. On the other side of the window was a mirror which prevented Grundy and Girlie from seeing them.

For several years, Mankowski had taught a class for rookies covering the basics of polygraph examinations. The test measured four physiological responses: breathing, oxygen usage, heart rate, and blood pressure. A subject who was about to lie had a tendency to tense up, which produced a physiological response that the polygraph could measure.

Grundy began the examination by asking Girlie a series of innocuous questions, such as her name, address and place of employment. Mankowski held his breath as the examiner asked the first substantive question.

“Have you ever met Phillip Peterman?”
Grundy asked.

Girlie waited a beat.
“No.”

Mankowski stepped closer to the window, his eyes zeroing in on the graphs on the computer screen in front of the examiner. “Holy shit!”

“What?” Detective Thomas exclaimed. “Is she lying or telling the truth?”

Mankowski held up a hand to quiet his partner. “Hold on, hold on. I need to hear this.”

“Did you meet with Phillip Peterman at the Four Seasons Hotel on July sixteenth?”

“No.”

Mankowski pounded his right fist into his left palm. “Son of a bitch!”

“Have you ever slept with Phillip Peterman?”

“No.”

“Did Phillip Peterman give you a copy of Judi Irving’s Big Buy documents?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen a copy of Judi Irving’s Big Buy documents.”

“No.”

“Man, tell me what’s going on,” Thomas yelled, knowing the test was being conducted in a soundproof room. “Is she passing or failing?”

Mankowski continued to ignore him, his eyes transfixed on the computer screen.

“Did you turn over Big Buy financial records to The Daily Business Journal?”

“No.”

“Tell me, god damn it!” Detective Thomas yelled. “Is she passing or failing?”

Mankowski slapped his partner on the back.

“She passed with flying colors! No evidence of deception. Not a single inconclusive response.”

Thomas spun away, then turned back. “No way. I’m not buying it. She must’ve figured out a way to beat the test. We both saw her walk out of that hotel seconds behind Phillip Peterman. I refuse to believe that was just a coincidence.”

“Well, apparently it was,” Mankowski said, unable to stop grinning. “Because according to that polygraph machine, she’s telling the whole truth and nothing but.”

“L
adies, I feel the need to say this one more time,” said Barry Nelson, patting his tie. “You have no obligation to speak to the police.”

“We know that and we have no plans to submit to an interview,” Rita snapped. “The only reason we agreed to come down her was to hear the information the police have about Girlie Cortez stabbing us in the back.”

The attorney tugged at one of his monogrammed shirt sleeves. “The police don’t give information. They gather it. Your being here is in their best interests, not yours. They aren’t going to tell you a thing.”

Marcus Winbush turned to Evelyn. He was tall, with sand-colored hair and a mustache that was little more than fuzz.

“I would have to agree,” Winbush said. “As a matter of fact, I bet they’re out there right now laying a trap for the two of you. You need to start thinking like the excellent lawyer that I know you are,” he said to Evelyn.

“Excellent lawyer, my ass,” Rita mumbled loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“You have some nerve,” Evelyn spat back. “Your greed is about to destroy our company.”

“Our company? You don’t have a company. You’re an employee, remember? Your brother left Big Buy to me. So get over it.”

“Ladies, ladies!” Nelson stood up. “What’s going on here? If anybody sees this display of animosity between the two of you, it’s going to do both of you a lot of harm. Whatever’s going on, you need to work it out for the good of the company.”

Both women lifted their chins and looked in opposite directions.

Barry’s smartphone chirped. He pulled it from his pocket and stared at the screen. “This isn’t good, but I guess it’s to be expected.”

“What is it?” Rita asked.

“The state Attorney General’s Office just served a search warrant at Big Buy headquarters.”

He started pressing the keys of his smartphone. “I’ll make sure someone from my office gets there right away.”

“This is your fault!” Rita charged. “You hired Girlie Cortez and now look at what she’s done to us.”

“Will you ever take responsibility for
anything
you do?” Evelyn asked. “It’s not Girlie’s fault that you and your boyfriend decided to create fraudulent earnings reports.”

“That’s a lie,” Rita said, not quite convincingly. “And no one can ever prove that I did.”

Evelyn’s eyes filled with a smug delight. “Jane Campbell can.”

Rita nervously clasped her hands. “I should’ve fired her years ago.”

“Unfortunately, you were too selfish to do that. With all the millions you have, you refused to give that woman a measly four-hundred grand that you know Harlan wanted her to have. Well, now, she’s about to pay you back for all the hell you put her through.”

“That woman is senile and she’s a liar.”

“Really? Did I tell you that Vernetta Henderson now represents Jane? I had a conversation with Henderson yesterday. Jane wants the money that Harlan left her in his will.”

Rita was about to speak, then paused, suddenly looking hopeful. “Let’s pay her and make her sign a confidentiality provision agreeing not to testify against the company.”

“That won’t work,” Nelson said. “If she’s subpoenaed by the authorities, she’ll have to testify to what she knows.”

“Anyway, Henderson would never agree to that. She wants the money her client is entitled to and this morning, I authorized Accounts Payable to send her a check for four-hundred thousand and I plan to offer her another three-hundred thousand to settle her wrongful termination claim.”

Rita gripped the edge of the table. “You did what? You can’t do any of that without my approval.”

“Yes, I can. Those sums are well within my settlement authority. Oh, and something else I forgot to mention, as of—” she paused to check her watch—”exactly thirty-five minutes ago, you and your boyfriend Fred are relieved of your duties as CEO and CFO until the completion of an investigation into your alleged misconduct.”

Rita shot to her feet. “You can’t do that! You’ve been trying to wrestle this company away from me since the day your brother died.”

“This isn’t my doing. The board of directors authorized your removal. They held an emergency meeting via teleconference earlier today.”

“You…I…I don’t know why you’re sitting there looking so self-righteous,” she seethed. “You’re in just as much hot water as I am.”

“I beg to differ. I knew nothing about your little scheme. If I had, I would have turned you in myself.”

Nelson pressed three fingers to his right temple. “Ladies, ladies—”

“Shut up!” Rita and Evelyn shouted at the same time.

Nelson’s body grew rigid and his teeth were clenched tight enough to crack.

Evelyn’s young attorney, boldly ventured to speak. He stood and hid his shaking hands inside his pockets.

“That’s enough!” Winbush shouted. “Whatever’s going on between the two of you needs to stop. Immediately. You’re facing some very serious charges here.”

He turned to Evelyn. “And not just the CEO. You too. Just because you weren’t directly involved, doesn’t mean you won’t be held liable. You’re an officer of this company too. The legal standard is whether you knew or reasonably should have known the alleged fraud was occurring.”

Rita smiled across the room at Evelyn, who seemed shaken by her attorney’s blunt words.

Winbush wiped sweat from his forehead. “So I would suggest that the two of you cut out all of this childish bickering and find a way to get on the same team.”

W
e heard the approach of footsteps, so Special and I were already on our feet when Detectives Mankowski and Thomas stepped back into the room.

“Did she pass?” My anxiety level was so high I might as well have been strapped to a polygraph myself.

“Yep,” Mankowski said. “She never saw the documents, never met Phillip Peterman and didn’t give them to the
Journal.
”

Mankowski’s delivery of this news was way too cheerful.

I felt like someone had just doused me with a quart of ice water. “What? How?”

“No way!” Special exclaimed. “That test was rigged. She’s probably screwing the guy who gave it to her.”

“But what about that information we gave you?” I said. “We know it’s true. She clearly had a motive to turn over the documents to the
Journal
.”

“Not everybody who has a motive to commit a crime actually does,” Mankowski explained.

I slumped back into my chair. “I can’t believe it. I don’t know how she does it. She’s the most unethical attorney I’ve ever met, and time after time she never gets caught.”

“This is bullshit!” Special said, banging her fist on the desk. “That girl is dirty. I know it.”

“I’m sorry,” Mankowski said. “I think you’re wrong.”

“Why in the hell do you look so damn happy?” Special said to Detective Mankowski. “You sleeping with her too?”

Mankowski’s curved lips immediately flattened and his expression changed to one of embarrassment.

“Calm down,” I said to Special.

“No. He’s acting like he’s all happy that she passed.”

“Contrary to all the TV cop shows you watch,” Mankowski said defensively, “we aren’t out to nail innocent people. It sounds to me like you have a score to settle with Girlie. I’m sorry we can’t manufacture any evidence to help you do that.”

“We’re not asking you to manufacture any evidence,” Special insisted. “I’m asking you to do your job.”

“Let it go, Special.” I picked up my purse from the table. “Thanks for allowing us to be here.”

“Hold on,” Special said. “We ain’t done yet. Can you go back in there and ask her one more question?”

Mankowski huffed and shook his head.

“Just leave it alone,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Mankowski replied. “The test is finished.”

Ignoring them, Special opened her purse, grabbed a pen and started scribbling on a notepad she picked up from the table.

“Here,” she said, ripping off the top sheet. “Please go back in there and ask her this last question.”

Mankowski glanced at the piece of paper while Detective Thomas peered at it over his shoulder.

“Pretty please,” Special begged. “If she denies
that
and the test says she’s telling the truth, I’ll admit I’ve been wrong about her. Hell, I’ll even tell Girlie that to her face.”