Chasing Suspect Three (13 page)

T
wenty minutes
later, Sandy and Agent Jay Heppard had settled into chairs opposite
ASA Mel Shapiro in his courthouse office. Shapiro said, “Are
introductions necessary? You came in together. Did you meet in the
elevator?”

“We met while Agent Heppard was conducting a
covert surveillance of me. He had me going there for a while with
the blonde surfer wig, but the bushy red mustache gave him
away.”

“She’s a talented investigator,” Shapiro said
going along with it.

“I do everything Sherlock Holmes does only
backward and in high heels.”

Heppard gave them both a weak smile. “Now if
you two have had your fun.”

Shapiro moved his chair closer to his desk.
“Sandy, we wanted you to be aware that the government is
investigating a drug case involving the Salvadoran consulate down
in Miami. There is a Park Beach connection.” He looked over at
Agent Heppard. “Why don’t you pick it up at this point?”

The agent leaned forward. “The FBI and the
DEA would like to tie your John Larena murder into our case. I
thought I’d fill you in on a few things. Are you aware of his
employment in Miami?”

“You FBI guys are so cute.” She raised her
hands in mock protest. “You announce you’re going fill me in on
something, yet what you are in fact doing is interrogating me. You
start off with a question trying to find out how much I know of his
activities. Next, you’re going to ask did Margo Larena ever discuss
any of her husband’s Miami activities with me. And that’s more of
your interrogation that fills me in on nothing and shares zilch
with me.” She gave him a stare and then one over at Shapiro as
though he were equally guilty.

He said, “Jay, I’ve learned, when you’re
dealing with Sandy, it’s best to come at her straight on and take
your chances. She has some sort of built-in guile alarm that goes
off, if you try to sneak in at her sideways.”

“Thank you, Mel,” she said. It seemed safe to
confirm some of the victim’s background they probably already knew
or could easily find out. A touch of apparent rapport with the FBI
couldn’t hurt. “In answer to your so-called explanation, Margo
confirmed to me that her husband was a diplomatic courier for the
Salvador Consulate. He’d work two weeks in Miami and then have two
weeks off.”

“You don’t have a whole lot of useful
information for us, do you?” Heppard said.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.” She remembered
Margo making a wifely guess that her husband had some sweetie down
there helping him pass those long boring nights in Miami. In any
case, she wasn’t going to mention a possible girlfriend since a
philandering-husband would be one more motive for her client to
shoot him. Shapiro would surely use it against her. She went on,
“My client said nothing about her husband acting as a go-between
involving illegal drugs.”

“How did you know our investigation concerned
couriering drugs?” Heppard asked sharply.

She gave him her best
you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look. “Drugs...courier...hello?”

Heppard mumbled something.

“Have you identified John Larena as one of
the couriers mixed up in the drug trafficking?” she asked.

“We’re not prepared to confirm that at this
time.”

“You don’t have a whole lot of useful
information for me, do you?”

“The circle of persons who may or may not be
involved in our case might overlap the persons involved in your
case. Naturally, we’re interested in all persons involved in your
case who might have some connection with our case. We hoped you
might enlarge our circle.”

She smirked at Shapiro. “Does he always talk
like that?”

Shapiro turned away and hid his smile with
his hand.

“Why were you following me?”

The agent said, “Frankly, I thought I’d
follow you around and see where you led me. I could always tell you
later. You’re an old criminal investigator from Philadelphia, you
know the game.”

“And you would have preferred to be able to
keep following me undetected, right?” Looking at Shapiro she said,
“You realize all this has certainly made my case. This FBI
investigation puts John Larena in the middle of international drug
dealing. I now have an excellent argument for reasonable doubt. I
suddenly find out half the world might have wanted him dead to
recover the money and keep him from testifying. My little old
wronged spouse is insignificant. Is the jury going to believe it
was his sweet little wife who was involved, or some nefarious drug
cartel? Or do you plan on keeping all this FBI stuff out of my
trial, so the jury never hears of it?”

“My plan is to convict her on the
evidence.”

“And my plan is to tell the jury to ignore
your plan. In every other sentence, I’ll shout out D-R-U-G-S. Drug
gangs, ugly drug guys, here, there, and everywhere. Everyone knows
they spend their lives running around shooting people. And you
can’t tie her to drugs. You don’t think I’m capable of planting the
thought of reasonable doubt in the minds of a few jurors?”

She stood and walked around his office waving
her hands as though it were a courtroom “This changes the entire
situation, thank you very much FBI. The state no longer has
probable cause to keep my client under arrest. Mel, I insist you
drop all charges against my client.”

“Get off the stage, counselor,” Shapiro said.
“This doesn’t do away with our local case of your client killing
her husband out of anger, or infidelity, or whatever we come up
with. True, our domestic case up here in Park Beach is small
potatoes compared to the huge case of the Salvador Vice-Consul
working with a South American drug gang. At any rate, they’re two
separate cases.”

“You wish! They won’t be separate, when I get
this in the courtroom.” She came back over and sat. “Okay, I’ll be
happy to tell you two what I know about Margo. It’s nothing you
haven’t already found out with one possible exception.”

She thought they might as well know about the
boyfriend. She couldn’t find out anything about him anyway. They
should do better. “True, she does Yoga with the girls, but she’s
much the loner. She never mentioned any other friends except her
boyfriend, Richie Grant.” Same name as the TV star.” She watched
Shapiro’s face for a reaction. “You know about him? Looks like a
good suspect.” She couldn’t pass up a chance to plant the thought
of an additional suspect in Shapiro’s head. More reasonable doubt.
She hoped he wouldn’t ask her why she had withheld the information.
“Shouldn’t you guys be writing all this down?”

Both men got busy with their ballpoints, then
straightened. “A major suspect?” Shapiro was frowning. “When were
you going to tell us about him?”

“Frankly, I thought I’d follow him around and
see where he led me. I could always tell you later. You’re an old
investigator, you know the game.”

Shapiro had to smile at that.

She continued, “As a matter of fact, I was on
my way down here to tell you about him, when I noticed Mr. Heppard
here on my tail. I’ve found out nothing about the guy. No address,
no occupation, nothing. I’ve never seen him. She says he’s a hunky
Lothario. Claudia Mertens describes him as a scrawny jerk. Guess
which one is in love with him?”

Heppard looked from one to the other and
asked, “How does this guy fit in?”

She didn’t want to reveal too much of her
defense at this time, nevertheless the FBI talking drug connection
gave her a real opportunity to get the first degree charge reduced.
Maybe even get Margo out on bail. Shapiro was suddenly on the
defensive. She wanted to keep him there.

“Richie is her alibi. She was home with him
playing seven minutes in heaven at the time of the murder. Also,
Mel, I’m happy to report the supposedly shocking text message you
discovered, telling Margo to start squirming was merely texting
foreplay from Richie. Not a warning from the victim.”

She might as well pretend the cockeyed
explanation Margo had given her was a fact. If the police could
trace the text to John, they’d tell her about it soon enough. She
didn’t want to mention Margo’s additional claim that it was Richie
who drove her car away from the crime scene. She’d save that item
for the plea bargain. If she could prove half the stuff Richie
supposedly did, her defense of Margo would be a walk in the
park.

Shapiro reached over and flipped open a
folder. “Where is my copy of that text message...here it is.” He
read it, looked up at her, and read it again. “Texting foreplay?
You have to be kidding.”

She was enjoying it. “We defense attorneys
love ambiguities. Always gets juries so confused doesn’t it?”

Shapiro was now very serious. She had his
attention. “Richie Grant? We don’t have anything here on him. We’ll
see what we can find.”

“And you’ll let me know?”

“No, we won’t let you know.”

“Seems a bit one sided to me.” Then to
Heppard, “How about you? You federal types have Interpol and all
kinds of fancy databases. Will you tell me what you find out about
him?” She didn’t wait for an answer, instead she stood. “Are we
through here?”

Shapiro said, “Yes, leave. I’ve had enough
headaches for one day.”

“No, wait,” Heppard spoke up. “It occurred to
me, after sitting here watching you in action, that you’re ballsy
enough to go down to Miami and burst into the Salvadoran consulate,
knock some heads together, and create an international
incident.”

“You’re right about that.” Shapiro chuckled.
“Clients don’t just hire Sandy, they turn her loose.”

She said, “International incident, huh? I’ve
never thought of that one. I could cause chaos and confusion all
over the world. Geez, my work is never done.” She was silent for a
dramatic minute. “Seriously, I’ve no idea where my investigation
might take me.”

“Well, let it take you someplace else. By
international treaty, the consulate premises are considered foreign
territory. The Salvadoran government itself is not at all
implicated in the drug operation. They have clean hands and are
cooperating. There is a highly placed rogue employee named Ramirez
who was in charge of the couriers. He started putting in drugs and
money along with the official documents being delivered. The drug
dealing was all his own. The Salvadorans want it cleaned up. Even
so, we had to go through the Department of State to get permission
from the Salvadorans to interrogate their employees.”

“I understand, and I’ll
behave...probably.”

Heppard stood and handed her his card. “Call
me anytime. I hope you’ll help us. We aren’t adversaries or
anything. There should be ways we can help each other.”

She knew they could be adversaries instantly,
if some little thing turned it all around. Then it would be too
late to take back anything, and it would be used against her. “I
know how you guys work. Anything I find, I share with you. Anything
you find, I’ll never know about.” She tried to match his marvelous
smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d like to meet up with
you again sometime.” He held his steady gaze at her longer than
socially necessary.

“Coming soon to a rear-view mirror near me.”
She would definitely keep his card. If her nights took a permanent
turn toward loneliness, would he return her call? She bet he would,
considering the way he had been looking at her.

“Mel, I want to look around the victim’s
condo. Can you arrange that?”

“You’ve got it. Counsel for the defense has a
right to inspect the scene of the crime. The police tape is down
now. Go do your thing.”

She was by herself in the hall waiting for
the elevator, when Heppard hurried down the hall and up close. “I
felt there was actually something else you’d like to tell me. Would
it help if we spoke privately, instead of talking in front of
Shapiro?”

“Gee whiz, Mister FBI man, you’d have to
cross your heart and promise you’d keep it secret, and you couldn’t
have your fingers crossed behind your back.” She turned away from
him and pushed the elevator button.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me.” He was
silent for a full minute. Then put on his best face. “Why don’t we
have dinner together tonight?”

She caught a flash of dimples. “What would we
talk about?”

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Appetizers, entrees, and important things
like Cherry Pie Ala Mode. You feds have a big expense account?”

“Not really, but I get to use the company car
tonight.”

“My tax dollars at work.” Cool looking guy
and clever when he gets away from his FBI routine. Asking herself,
why not, brought Chip to mind. At that particular moment, she
wasn’t at all certain where they stood. Even so, she said, “Agreed,
but nothing too fancy. I’m not in the mood for getting all glitzy
tonight.”

“Nothing fancy? All right, how about just
plain pizza with no fancy toppings?”

“Wait, you went too far, go back to fancy.
Seven o’clock? You know where I live?”

“I’ve followed you home a couple of
times.”

She grinned at that and checked her watch.
“It’s almost one, and I’m starving. Want to go over for a sandwich
or something?” Before he could answer, she saw Shapiro coming out
of his office slipping on his suit coat. She waved him over. “We’re
going to walk across to the Windward. Want to join us?”

Heppard was slow on the uptake, but said,
“Yeah, Mel, come over with us.” And then he whispered to her, “He
isn’t going to come along with us tonight is he?”

S
andy was pleased
with herself. At least so far. She had slugged it out with Shapiro
and Heppard and had held her own. Just because you’re officially in
the legal profession doesn’t mean you belong. Although the meeting
with them had gone almost perfectly, she realized she was still in
the early stages of becoming the lawyer she wanted to be. She had
her self-doubts pretty much under control. And she seemed to be
gaining acceptance, if not yet actual respect from her fellow
professionals. She was getting there.