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Authors: Gary Hardwick

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BOOK: Color of Justice
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Danny, Erik, and Janis got to Fiona early the next morning. They grabbed newspapers at the
News
and
Free Press
boxes. Both papers had front-page headlines about the latest killing. Mercifully, the story did not lead in either paper, but it was front-page news, and there was a strong suggestion that there was a link between Olittah Reese and the Bakers.

Danny, Erik, and Janis entered Fiona's office and found her waiting for them. Jacob was in a corner office poring over a stack of files, muttering to himself. Fiona had given him some kind of shit assignment to keep him out of her hair.

Fiona told the three officers how Olittah Reese, thirty-three, had met her demise. The fact that she'd been in the river made everything a little speculative, but Reese had probably been beaten, bound, and gagged and then shot in the same manner as the Bakers. This time, no chloroform was used.

Danny inquired if there were abrasions on her
face as if the killer had lifted the gags as he'd done before. Fiona answered yes to this. The murders were identical, only this time the killer had the river to help cover his tracks.

Olittah Reese had known the Bakers as political allies of the current mayor. If the mayor was somehow a target, it was a mystery to everyone but the killer. More interesting was the fact that Olittah had helped the Bakers with several investor parties for New Nubia.com. Danny felt certain that somewhere in that group was Janis's so-called serial murderer.

“So, do we have anything we can use?” asked Danny.

“Yes, there is one thing,” said Fiona. “Our deceased had a little prize in her stomach, some male sperm.”

Danny and Erik both reacted, but not with shock. They were happy. Tangible evidence was always appreciated.

“Excellent,” said Janis. “We can definitely use that.”

“Sperm makes us girls excited,” said Fiona. Janis visibly blushed.

“Got a type on it, yet?” asked Erik.

“I sure as hell do,” said Fiona. “Get me a match, and maybe we got your killer.”

“Wait,” said Danny. “Reese was married. It could belong to her husband.”

“One way to find out,” said Erik.

They said a quick good-bye to Fiona, who promised a full report soon.

Danny was thinking that the prize in the deceased, as Fiona called it, could not have been done forcibly. That kind of sex was not the thing that a rapist/killer would engage in. Too dangerous to put it in some woman's mouth. What it did indicate was that this killing was not as clean as the Bakers, and usually when a killer slipped up you could follow the mistake to a clue. They were on to something, and Danny tried not to be too excited as they drove uptown to Sherwood Forest, a fashionable, upscale black neighborhood in the city.

They entered the spacious home of Thomas Reese, the deceased's husband. Reese looked like shit. Since his wife had been missing, he hadn't slept much and was on leave from his job at DaimlerChrysler. However, even stressed out and grieving, Reese was a handsome black man of about forty or so. Olittah had been a beautiful woman, and they had probably made a striking couple, Danny thought.

“Mr. Reese,” said Danny. “I know this is hard for you, but we need your help, sir.”

“Sure, anything,” said Reese. “You guys want a drink, oh shit, right, you can't. You mind?”

Danny, Erik, and Janis shook their heads as Reese went to the bar and made a drink. He downed it and quickly poured another.

“Olittah was a great woman,” said Reese. “She and I had our shit all together, you know. She was connected downtown with the brothers, and I had the white folks. Oh, no offense, man,” he said to Danny.

“None taken,” said Danny. “Mr. Reese, we have something to ask you, and it's pretty sensitive. It's about what your wife did before she died.”

“Well, I really don't know,” said Reese. “I told the police all I could. I was working late, and when I came home, Olittah was gone.”

“Was it normal for you to work late?” asked Janis.

“I do it sometimes but usually I'm home by nine or so. Why?”

Danny took a moment to let him feel the seriousness of what he was about to ask. “Mr. Reese, did you have sex with your wife the day she disappeared?”

“What?” asked Reese, wide-eyed. “Wha—Why is that—?” His eyes got larger, and a rage filled them. Reese sat down hard in a chair, and even before he said it, Danny knew. It was not his semen they'd found in his wife's stomach.

“Fuck,” he said. “How could she?” He shook his head and looked at his feet.

“Do you have any idea who it might have been, sir?” Erik asked.

“If I knew, he'd be dead!” yelled Reese.

Suddenly Danny was thinking about Vinny and her new study partner, his body language, and the almost plastic smile on his face. A man may not know the truth, but he always has suspicions of what the truth is. He also thought about how Olittah Reese had flirted with him so openly. Thomas Reese had to know something.

“Mr. Reese, your wife was a nice-looking
woman,” said Danny. “I'm sure you noticed men who were more than just friendly with her. A man who you just felt had the wrong intention?”

Reese downed his second drink, then another, and looked up at the ceiling. He lowered his head. “Charles,” he said.

“He got a last name?” asked Erik.

“Eastergoode,” said Reese. “Judge Charles Eastergoode.”

Danny and Erik shared a look of recognition. Danny pulled out his notebook and checked the notes from the Longs' interview. It was there, Charles Eastergoode, the man who had gossiped about Mr. Baker's lover. Danny fought the urge to smile at what was their first real lead in the case. Mr. Reese was in pain, and Danny didn't want him to think he was insensitive.

“Thank you, sir,” said Danny.

“Mr. Reese, a doctor will be here shortly to ask for some blood to compare to the fluids we found in the body,” said Janis.

“Why?” said Reese, fighting his tears. “It wasn't me, okay? My dead wife was fucking some guy and it wasn't me.”

“We just have to be sure,” said Janis. “Whoever it was will claim it was you in court.”

“Okay,” said Reese in a low voice that contained his surrender to all the grief in his life.

Danny felt for the man. Not only was his wife dead, she'd been having an affair, and to add insult to injury, he now had to prove it by being stuck with a needle.

Danny, Erik, and Janis left and drove back downtown to Recorder's Court, the special criminal division of the Circuit Court. They parked their car on St. Antoine along with the other double-parked police vehicles and went inside. They flashed their badges, passed the security station, then took the elevator up to the seventh floor.

Judge Charles Eastergoode was one of those men who had probably always been destined for greatness. He was the son of two black physicians, which in the 1950s was a big-ass deal. He was a track star at Cass Tech High School, a special public magnet school where Detroit's smartest kids went. Eastergoode attended the University of Michigan undergraduate program, then later the law school.

He worked briefly for Mayor Harris Yancy, becoming one of his rising stars, then he opened a law practice that specialized in civil litigation. He made a ton of money suing insurance companies and corporations. After spreading his wealth around, he got an appointment from then-governor James Blanchard to the Circuit Court bench.

Danny had testified before Eastergoode on a number of occasions. He was smart, arrogant, and didn't take any shit. He was highly connected, so Danny knew that they had to tread softly with him. Messing around with someone's wife was not a crime, but Eastergoode might have some other information that would prove useful.

Danny, Erik, and Janis sat in the spacious cham
bers of the judge while he concluded a case involving an assault. Soon, they heard the commotion of people leaving and a bailiff signaling the end of the session. The door sprang open and the judge walked in, removing a pair of reading glasses. He was medium build, in great shape for a man over fifty, and his hair was turning gray.

Eastergoode was not a handsome man, but had a quality about his face that was not unpleasant. He was rugged-looking and carried himself with confidence.

The judge was followed in by a female bailiff, who had a mean look on her face. She gave Erik, Danny, and Janis a nod, then stood by the door.

Eastergoode removed his robe, put on his suit jacket, and then pulled out a pipe. “What can I do for you boys—and lady?” he added, looking at Janis. He lit the pipe and took a long puff. The sweet smell of the tobacco wafted across the room.

“We have a sensitive matter to discuss, Judge,” said Danny.

“Is it about a case on my docket?” he asked.

“No,” said Erik.

“Then no need to pussyfoot,” said Eastergoode. “Out with it.”

Danny glanced over at the bailiff, who was still watching. Then he looked the judge directly in the eyes, making sure he got his meaning.

“It's about Olittah Reese,” Danny said.

Eastergoode's eyes grew ever so slightly wider, then he put down his pipe, and asked the bailiff to
leave. When she was gone, he turned back to them.

“Sad thing what happened,” he said. “How can I help?”

“We've got a problem, Judge,” Danny began. “I can sit here and ease my way into it, but I don't think a man like you would appreciate that.”

“I prefer candor,” said Eastergoode.

“Yes, sir,” said Danny. “We found semen in the stomach of Olittah Reese.”

Eastergoode was now settled and his expression did not change after hearing this statement.

“And what does this have to do with me?” His voice had a mixture of concern and anger in it.

“We're trying to find out who it belonged to,” said Janis.

Danny was surprised at this statement from Janis. It was blunt, and it also cut into his line of questioning. The last thing he needed to do was get into a power struggle in front of a suspect.

“How is it I've never seen you?” Eastergoode asked Janis. “I know all of the detectives in the SCU.” He seemed upset at the not-so-subtle implication of her statement.

“I'm from the FBI,” said Janis.

Danny saw Eastergoode show genuine fear now. State judges didn't want anything to do with federal power. It usually meant trouble. The Circuit Court had had a corruption probe a few years back and three judges had gone to prison.

“Olittah and I were friends, but she never told me her business,” said Eastergoode, calming down.

“You don't think the semen belonged to her husband?” asked Danny.

Eastergoode looked afraid, then shifting some mental plan, he took on an angry look. “Okay, Detectives, there's no need to play this game anymore. You obviously think I'm the man you're looking for. Well, I'm not, so you can go now.”

“We have a type on the semen,” said Danny. “If we get a suspect, and this goes to trial, we'll have to do everything to find out who the man was.”

“Are you threatening me?” asked Eastergoode.

“No, sir,” said Danny, “but you can see our position. If we don't ask you our bosses chew us out. If we do, well, then we get on your bad side.”

Danny and the judge locked gazes for a moment as Eastergoode contemplated his choices. Danny could feel him thinking. If he threw them out, that would raise suspicion, to say nothing of the FBI agent and what she might do. If he cooperated, then they would find out whatever it was he was hiding.

“I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave, gentlemen,” said Eastergoode.

“If we leave here without your cooperation,” said Danny, “people will talk.”

“Talk is bad in Detroit,” said Erik. “Has a way of getting around. All around.”

Janis didn't say anything. She just looked angrily at the judge and that seemed to bother him more than what he was hearing from the two men.

Danny could see that Eastergoode was visibly
upset now. He was caught and he knew it. He looked at Danny with anger in his eyes, and Danny wondered if he focused on him because he was white. Black men like Eastergoode had power in Detroit, and they didn't like to be under the authority of any white man, even if he was just a cop. Eastergoode turned his back on the detectives, lifted his head up and sighed.

“How can I trust you?” he said.

“Because we'll give you our word,” said Danny.

Eastergoode thought about this a long time, assessing the cops before him. “I was at home with my wife and some friends when she died, so I have an alibi, you know.”

“We know that,” said Erik.

“Then you don't consider me a suspect,” said the judge.

“No, we don't,” said Danny and Janis, overlapping each other.

The judge sat down in his big leather chair and looked right at the detectives.

“It was going on for about a year, off and on,” the judge began. “Mostly we did it here or in her office. We're both too well known to get some hotel room. Once, we hooked up in Canada across the river at a hotel after some gambling.” He smiled ever so slightly at the memory. “Olittah was an exciting, passionate woman. We were both married and had a lot to lose, and so there was never any talk of divorce or any of that shit. We'd break it off, then we'd run into each other, and it was on again.”

“What happened the night she disappeared?” asked Danny.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Olittah came here, we talked, and then…we serviced each other. I went home. I assumed she did, too.”

“Were you involved with New Nubia.com?” asked Danny.

“No,” said Eastergoode. “Olittah kept trying to get me into it, but I'm a very conservative investor. Turns out I was smart, huh? People lost their shirts on that thing.”

Danny and Erik looked at each other, making sure that neither of them had any more questions about the encounter. Danny then turned to Janis, who was looking at Eastergoode. She shook her head ever so slightly. Danny took this to mean that she didn't consider him a serious suspect. Danny had one more question on his mind.

BOOK: Color of Justice
2.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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