Any sensible defense attorney would walk away
at that point, but Sandy didn’t want it to end that way. She’d like
to get some success for herself out of the situation. And Margo
would just find another lawyer. Someone, somewhere, would represent
her. She might go free, might get a lethal injection, or something
in between. Sandy absolutely didn’t want to be out of the picture
and have no influence on what finally came out of all this.
Especially with her effort and success so far in getting the charge
reduced and her client released on bail. And especially since she
was dying to find out what was going on.
“Why are you so angry that Richie is dead?
I’m the one who’s supposed to feel sad.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Sandy slapped the
steering wheel. “No, dammit. I’m not sorry for your loss. You
suffered no loss believe me. You received a blessing. The entire
world received a blessing. Be sorry that you ever had anything to
do with that lowlife, but be thankful that he’s dead. He was at the
bottom of the barrel and you were scraping it.”
“You didn’t know him.”
“I know he runs around with a gun shooting at
people.”
Although she was pleased the treacherous
Richie was dead, a chilling thought began to come through to her;
her chances for a successful defense of Margo were decreasing, if
not actually gurgling down the drain.
If the drug gang murdered John to recover the
money and keep him from testifying, then getting Margo off would be
a piece of cake. However, her boyfriend being a Miami hood caught
in her husband’s condo, strongly implied that she also was
involved. She had even used him as her alibi. She had made it worse
when she told Jaworski he was her boyfriend and claimed to have
been with him the night of the murder. With her boyfriend caught up
in this, it might be impossible to separate her from all the
action. Everything seemed to be going to hell.
She pulled into her parking spot at the side
of the office and took a deep breath. “Again I ask you to please
tell me about Richie, explain to me about Richie. Any bit of
information on him might be helpful. You refuse to even give me his
address.”
“I’m embarrassed, Sandy. I don’t know his
address. There is very little about him I can tell you.”
In spite of such incredible answers, Sandy
had decided to stick with the situation until the end. “I’m sorry,
Margo. I must think all of this through. At least you’re out of
jail. Go on home, or whatever you have to do. Keep out of trouble,
and don’t talk about the case to anyone. There’s an FBI agent
running around, I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to talk with
you.”
“He did. He was out at the jail before I was
released.”
Once again, Sandy put her face down in her
hands. “Margo, I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me these things.
The FBI guy shouldn’t talk to you without me present.”
“He said he couldn’t talk to me about what I
was charged with, but that I was okay talking to him about John’s
employment. He said that was an entirely different case involving
the consulate in Miami.”
“The sneaky bastard, when did he meet with
you?”
“Yesterday.”
Under her breath, she muttered, “After our
date.” And she almost let him sleep over. No, no, there was no
“almost sleep over.” No way would she have done that.
“You get a lot of action don’t you, sleeping
with all those authority types? I know a security guard at Walmart.
He’s a little overweight. If you’re interested.”
Geez, did Margo hear some of that? “No, you
misunderstood. I meant I was going to have it out with him, since
he talked to you. What did you tell him?”
“I said I didn’t know anything about John’s
job in Miami. I don’t think he believed me.”
“Great, now you’re lying to a Federal
agent.”
“You didn’t tell me not to lie to him. I mean
you didn’t say anything about federal agents.”
“I told you not to talk to anyone about this
stuff. That includes anyone and everyone with or without a badge on
planet Earth or the immediate vicinity, got it?” She wasn’t certain
where ignorance ended and obstinance began. “Now you drive on home.
Stay there. Don’t make me worry about you.”
Back at her office desk, she had mixed
emotions. Some mystery had been resolved and some created. She felt
better with Richie dead. For one reason, he wouldn’t come looking
for her. Obviously, he was from Miami or El Salvador, and she knew
nothing about him. She certainly didn’t understand how he came to
be Margo’s boyfriend. That unlikely relationship was screwing up
her case. She wished he had never existed in the first place.
There was another loose end for her to tie
up. His being dead gave a huge advantage to the prosecution. They
didn’t know about it yet. She had to tell them. She phoned
Jaworski, “How’s my second favorite detective?”
He recognized her voice. “Busy. What’s
up?”
“Has anyone viewed the body of our intruder
over at the morgue? The one with a John Doe toe tag.”
“Now you’re embarrassing me, Sandy. I
certainly would like to know if your client has ever seen him. But
you see, that meant paperwork with five copies, arranging
transportation for her from the jail with body restraints, and a
female deputy with her at all times. And then you’d have to be
present with her at the morgue. And on and on. Just haven’t gotten
to it, you going to tell on me?”
“I’ll save you the trouble.” This was going
to harm her defense of Margo, but it wasn’t the type of information
she could keep from the prosecution. “My client just ID’d him. The
stiff is Richie Grant...the boyfriend.”
“No kidding, the boyfriend? That surprises
me. We have pretty much decided he’s a Miami bad guy and probably
an illegal. Wow. Now you tell me it’s her boyfriend who is up here
in Park Beach searching and shooting.”
“I thought about keeping it from you.”
“You wouldn’t do that. Well, Shapiro will
love this development. Can I get a statement about the ID from you
for the file?”
“Sure, have someone in the state attorney’s
office type up whatever you need, and I’ll sign it. Just on the ID
thing, of course. Now I’ve a request, and it has to be done without
delay.”
“I owe you.”
“Would you pick up Claudia Mertens
immediately for a possible additional ID of the John Doe? She told
me she knew Richie, at least had met him. Let’s see what she says.
Don’t let on you think it’s him. Don’t give her any hints. Oh,
hell, you know how to do it.”
L
ater that
afternoon, Sandy and Martin were talking in the office when
Jaworski called back. “I picked up Claudia Mertens to see if she
could ID the stiff, as you suggested. Don’t turn your back on her.
She isn’t a member of the Sandy Reid fan club.”
“It breaks my heart.”
“We were talking on the way to the morgue.
She found out she’s getting the condominium. Were you withholding
that information from her?”
“Does that sound like something I’d do?”
“Absolutely.”
“If you happen to think of any other way I
can annoy her, let me know.”
“She blames you for causing the condo to get
wrecked and the place riddled with bullet holes. She’s going to sue
you for damages.”
“I’ll countersue. The sliding glass door to
the balcony is a safety hazard because it’s difficult to open when
a crazed gunman is chasing you. Did she ID Richie?”
“She recognized him immediately. The morgue
attendant over there almost blew it. After she says something like,
my God, it’s Richie, the attendant pops up and says he guesses it
must really be the Richie guy, because some other woman viewed him
today. Margo something or other and she was crying. You know what
Claudia said after hearing that? She said, ‘Sounds just like that
loser crying over another loser.’ I’m really surprised the two
women know a Miami hood.”
She hung up and gave Martin a hopeless look.
“In a couple of minutes, Jaworski will tell Shapiro the bad guy on
the slab in the morgue is Richie Grant. It won’t take Shapiro more
than two quick seconds to understand what it means.” Shapiro now
had all he needs to set up the prosecution for a win.
“I understand. Now it’s all changed,” Martin
replied.
“If Richie were just one of the Miami drug
guys and had no connection with Margo, there would be all kinds of
doubt about who shot John. Now Shapiro is going to continually
remind the jury that Margo and Richie go together like bread and
butter.”
“More like pain and suffering. There’s
nothing more you can do today,” he said. “You’re all wound up, and
it’s wearing on you. Let’s close up early. Sounds like Martini time
to me. You can get your Bloody Mary.”
“Not a good time to have my mind clouded with
drink, thanks anyway. I need a clear head.”
Her phone rang. It didn’t take long for her
to learn what Shapiro intended to do. He started right in, “You
know what this is about. We now know your client’s boyfriend was
the intruder searching the condo, shooting at you, and shooting at
the deputy. Do you think that makes it better or worse for your
client?”
“I wouldn’t make too much of that, Mel. I
think the Salvadoran drug gang is behind the murder, and Richie is
working with them. I still have my reasonable doubt defense.”
“I agree Richie is a Miami bad guy, but how
do you know the drug gang is behind the murder?”
“The victim stole the gang’s money. They have
Richie up here looking for it.”
“You don’t know if the gang is aware that
John Larena stole their money. And you don’t know for certain that
Richie is part of the gang.”
“I don’t believe very much has changed.” He
wasn’t going to buy her unsubstantiated theories, but it was all
she had.
“Everything has changed. I just got off the
phone with Agent Heppard. The FBI is mounting a full-scale
investigation of Richie Grant. DEA and immigration have been
alerted. We also gave what we have to the sheriff’s department, and
they are putting someone on it to see what they can come up
with.”
“I’m in favor of all of that. Let’s find out
everything we can about him,” she said. “But what does a Miami hood
searching the condo got to do with Margo shooting John?”
“Come on, Sandy, he’s her boyfriend. There
are only two facts we actually know here. Richie Grant is a Miami
bad guy, and he is connected to your client through a romantic
relationship, if nothing else.”
“So he’s not a nice boy. If making bad
choices in men is a crime, then half of the women and many of the
men in the world are guilty. It doesn’t make her a murderer. Maybe
she knew he was running around with a gun, maybe not.”
After a brief silence, he said, “If you truly
don’t understand, then we’d better talk in my office.”
That might be good. At least he’d have to
look at her while he said the fatal words. Even so, a meeting
wouldn’t change the situation. It would be a waste of time. She was
certain he had enough to go before the judge to revoke the bail. He
wanted Margo back in jail. The state attorney usually got what he
wanted from the judge at this stage; they had to work with each
other every day.
“Go ahead and surprise me on the phone,” she
said
“You had a good argument of reasonable doubt
at one time. Now we’re back to a wife shooting a husband, or having
her boyfriend shoot him. She shouldn’t be running around
loose.”
“If you try to go back to first degree. I’m
going to fight it. No way can you prove premeditation.”
“I’m starting by going back to court and
revoking bail. I’ll see you in court tomorrow.”
“Mel, can you put off doing this? Give me a
week to follow up on something I must investigate.”
“I know you, Sandy. If you had something to
investigate, you wouldn’t be sitting there in your office. If I
postpone, your client is free to run around covering her
boyfriend’s tracks and destroying evidence. No thanks. She’s
dangerous, she committed murder, or conspired to commit murder, and
she belongs behind bars. I’m requesting a special bail hearing for
nine tomorrow morning and I’ll get it. You and your client are
required to be there standing tall in front of the judge. And I
promise Margo Larena will be wearing cuffs again when she
leaves.”
There it was. Her reasonable doubt defense
gone up in smoke. Margo would be back in jail. And Sandy back to
square one.
Martin wondered, “You asked him for a week to
do what, reach down into your bag of tricks?”
“He just told me the FBI and others have been
alerted to finding out something about Richie. Maybe, with time,
they’d come up with something.”
She reached Margo on the phone and forced a
smile into her voice, “Oh great, I caught you...I thought I’d come
over just to see if you needed anything...well, are you going to be
home tonight? ...No? Look, we have to be at the courthouse at
eight-thirty tomorrow morning. It’s very important ...You want to
have your bail continued, don’t you? Well, we both have to be there
at eight-thirty to do that. Now don’t screw up. You definitely must
be there. If you don’t show up, you could go back to jail.”
A
t ten minutes to
nine the next morning, Sandy and Martin were standing facing each
other in the lobby of the county courthouse with expressions of
disbelief on their faces. ASA Shapiro came rushing across the lobby
nearly yelling, “You’re due in front of the judge upstairs in five
minutes. Where’s your client?”
She shrugged helplessly. “I spoke with her
yesterday. I definitely explained that she must be here at eight
thirty this morning. I didn’t tell her it was a rehearing on her
bail. But I did say it was a condition of her release, and if she
didn’t show, she could go back to jail. I phoned her first thing
this morning to be certain she was up and getting ready. No answer.
I’ve phoned almost continually ever since.”