Everywhere That Tommy Goes (23 page)

“Got ya. I’ll handle it at this end, Coop. We’ll circulate the picture. Maybe someone will recognize him. With a name, DMV should be able to give us a plate number and a make and model of his SUV.”

CHAPTER 67

Detective Reese was reviewing the blood results from the summerhouse at Gilgo. He looked up from his computer. “Morgan, you need to see this.”

Morgan placed his hand over the mouthpiece. “Gimme a minute, here. I’m running down the ownership of that house.”

“No problem. I just wanted to tell you that the blood we collected on the floor of that place matches our vic. It’s definitely Jamie Houston. Odds are she was still alive when she entered that house.”

Morgan nodded, gave Reese the thumbs up, and spoke into the phone. “Yes, sir, so you’re saying that the property is held in a trust? Can you give me the name of the trust and the contact info for the trustee?” Morgan held the phone in the crook of his neck and began writing notes on the pad in front of him. Finally, he hung up.

“Well, Reese, I have some info about the owner of the property but no natural person’s name. It seems the property is held in a trust and it has been for the last ten years. The Savitch Family Trust is the deed owner. The trust document is confidential, so they can’t tell us who the trustee is. There’s no mortgage on the property, the taxes are current, and the tax bills go to a P.O. Box in Montana. The property’s worth at least six hundred thousand dollars, so it’s clear we’re dealing with some relatively wealthy people.

“That name mean anything to you?”

“Not at all,” Morgan answered. “I think we better call Stone with all this and update her, though.”

“I’ll do it now,” Reese said, sliding his cell from his belt and speed dialing his boss.

“Stone here. What’s up, Reese?”

“Got a quick update. The blood we collected at the summerhouse is Houston’s. She was definitely alive, at least when she first entered the place. We also have some info on the owner. Seems like the property has been held in a trust for the last ten years. The place is owned free and clear, and the taxes are all paid up.”

“Any info on the trust?” Stone asked, still watching Sullivan through the mirror in the viewing room.

“Yeah, it’s called the Savitch Family Trust. There’s a P.O. Box address in Montana.”

“Say again, Reese?” Stone said, alarmed. “Did you say the Savage Family Trust?”

“Savitch, boss. S-A-V-I-T-C-H.”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Stone’s eyes widened anxiously as she caught Watts’ eye. “Listen, Reese: I have to check something out. Keep digging and call me with any new info.” Hanging up the phone, she grabbed Watts by the wrist. “You’re not going to believe this, but the house at Gilgo is owned by an entity called the Savitch Family Trust. Spelled S-A-V-I-T-C-H.”

“No shit!”

*   *   *

Attorney Harold Levy showed up and was ushered into the viewing room. Stone had been pacing, waiting for Sullivan to finish his breakfast so she could continue her interview. She was taken by surprise.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Levy said in a whiny voice as he stretched his hand out to greet her. “My name is Harold Levy. I’m with Legal Aid, and I have been assigned the Sullivan case.”

Stone kept her hand by her side, declining the invitation as she examined the short, emaciated figure with greasy hair.

Levy was a young lawyer only three years out of school who had returned to his hometown with a head still filled with idealistic beliefs about the purity and perfection of the legal system. Possessed of a near-photographic memory, he had breezed through law school and could have worked at any of the most prestigious firms in Manhattan. However, he felt his calling was to defend the less fortunate, and he thrived at a challenge. If the case was unwinnable, he wanted it.

Levy looked at Sullivan through the two-way mirror, looked back at Detective Stone, and asked, “Have you questioned my client without the benefit of counsel?”

“He was advised of his rights, Counselor. Whatever he may have said was disclosed with full knowledge that he had the right to remain silent.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Detective, so I’ll repeat it. Have you questioned my client without the benefit of counsel?” What Levy lacked in appearance, he made up for with zeal and intellect.

Stone paused and considered Levy with her eyes. “We spoke, Counselor.”

“About what?”

“Perhaps you can ask him, Mr. Levy. I’ll take you in to see him and leave you two alone to talk.”

“Very well, and I expect that you will give us complete privacy. I do not wish to meet with him in the interrogation room where you can watch and listen. Please set us up in an area where I can be assured of privacy.”

“You’re a suspicious young man, aren’t you?”

“I have reason to be, Detective, so if you don’t mind . . .”

“Okay, give me a minute.” Stone said, as she exited the viewing room.

*   *   *

They move me into some office and cuff my ankles again. I’m sitting there waiting in the room when in walks this skinny dude wearing a ratty blue suit that hasn’t been pressed in I don’t know how long.

“Good morning, Mr. Sullivan. My name is Harold Levy, and I have been appointed your attorney by the good people of the City of Port Jervis. Anything you say to me is privileged, and I am here to help you.”

“Excuse me, but are you a real lawyer? I mean, you look like a kid fresh outta college.”

“I assure you, sir,” the dude says to me, “I am eminently qualified to handle your defense. Please don’t let my appearance mislead you.”

Eminently? Did he really say that? What the hell does that mean? “I don’t know, man. You don’t have that lawyer look. How do I know you aren’t just some young punk they gave me to help them send me to jail for the rest of my life?”

“Well, sir, that would be a violation of your Constitutional rights. All I can do is ask you to trust me. I have a very successful track record as a public defender, and if you are willing to
put your trust in me, I will do everything in my power to see that you are afforded the best defense possible.”

“How can I be sure of that?”

“One can never be certain of anything, sir, but perhaps if you allow me to talk with you for a time, I can make you feel more comfortable and secure about my abilities.”

He keeps using all these fancy words, and even though he doesn’t look like a big-time lawyer, he sure does sound smart, so I guess I should give him a chance. After all, I’m not paying for this anyway, so what do I have to lose?” I eyeball him for a bit, and he just sits there with his hands folded in front of him. “All right, what the hell. Maybe you’re just the one I need to get me out of this mess. Where do we start?”

“Okay, Mr. Sullivan . . .”

“Call me Tommy.”

“Very well, Tommy, let’s start at the beginning. I’ve read the reports, and it seems you are being investigated for the disappearance of a bartender in Manhattan, murdering a motel clerk in New Jersey, and kidnapping a motel clerk up here in Port Jervis. Not to mention they are putting together a case against you for the bodies they’ve found at Gilgo Beach.”

“Yeah, well, it’s all lies. I told them that Troyer did all that and he’s trying to frame me.”

“I understand, so let’s start with the first accusation. Tell me what happened at Club Radical.”

So I tell this lawyer everything that happened from the time I walked into the bar in the Village all the way to when the cops nabbed me in the woods at Seneca. But when I tell him the
story, I don’t tell him that I was the one who dumped the bartender at Gilgo that night. The dude just sits there looking at me. “Aren’t you going to take notes or something?”

“Well, Tommy, to be honest with you, I have a near-perfect memory, and anything I hear or read is immediately committed to my mind and can be reiterated word for word.”

“Really? You’re not shittin’ me about that?”

“I assure you, Tommy, I am not.”

“That’s pretty cool, man. I’ve never met anyone like that.”

“It has its advantages.”

“So what do you think?”

“I’m not finished yet. I’d like to talk to you about everything that happened after you were arrested. This is just as important as the events leading up to your capture, if not more so.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for instance, did the police read you your rights? And if so, when? Did they pressure you to talk after reading you your rights? Did they withhold food or water? Did they promise you leniency if you talked? Did they hurt you? Did they do anything that made you uncomfortable?”

“That’s a lot of shit to think about. I mean, yeah, they did do some of that. They kind of read me my rights. I mean, Parker said I had the right to remain silent and all that other stuff they say on TV, but he didn’t actually say to me that he was reading me my rights. Anyway, I clammed up at first, but I was hungry, and they had me handcuffed to a chair with my arms pulled behind my back. My hands got numb, and my wrists hurt like hell. I had this massive
headache, and they wouldn’t give me my migraine pills unless I talked first. Oh, and they also told me that they talked to my doctor.”

“Okay, Tommy, slow down. Let’s focus on the pills. Tell me about them.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. You see, I signed up for this headache study a few months back . . . to earn some extra dough and maybe get cured of these nasty migraines I get. The doc there put me on this experimental medicine to help cure my headaches. All I had to do was take the pills, answer the doctor’s questions, and fill out some forms. Then they’d pay me a grand a month just to be a part of the study. It’s been great; I get the dough, and my headaches have gone away. Honestly, though, I have to take more pills than the doctor prescribes, but you know what? They work like a charm.”

“Did they give you the pills?”

“Not right away. Detective Stone said she would if I answered some questions. And my head was pounding so hard I really had no choice. I mean, I felt like I was gonna die.”

“Go on.”

“I told her if she gave me the pills, I’d talk. So she did.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Everything I just told you.”

Levy looked angry. “What happened after that?”

“This morning, she returned and said she spoke to my doctor, who recommended that I take four pills every four hours as preventative medicine, so I did. That was two hours ago.”

“And how are you feeling now?”

“Actually, I haven’t felt better.”

“That’s great, Tommy. I think I have enough information for the time being. Let me process this and talk to the detectives, and I’ll get back to you shortly.”

“You sure? I mean, whatever you wanna know, I’ll spill it.”

“I’m sure.”

“Before you go, can you do me one favor?”

“If I can help, I will.”

“I want to talk to Aurora. She must be flipping out by now.”

“I’ll see what I can do, but that may be difficult.”

“Why?”

“She’s a witness, and the prosecutor’s office will be concerned about alteration of testimony if you two talk.”

“Hey, that’s not right.”

“As I said, I’ll see what I can do, but don’t keep your hopes up.”

“Well, can you talk to her and give her a message for me?”

“Certainly,” he says as he gets up to leave. “What do you want me to tell her?”

“Tell her I’m innocent and that when all this is straightened out, I’ll make it up to her.”

The lawyer nods at me as he walks out the door.

CHAPTER 68

Levy stormed out of the room in search of Detective Stone. He interrupted her huddled in an office talking with Watts.

“Well, Detectives, in a half-hour interview I believe I’ve uncovered enough irregularities in the treatment of my client to secure his immediate release.” Levy’s tone was obnoxiously arrogant.

Stone laughed. “Yeah, right, Counselor. How about looking at the evidence? Are you forgetting that we have blood and DNA that places him at the scene of two murders? Not to mention, we also have the knife and computer evidence that ties your client to Gilgo Beach.”

“If you say so, ma’am, but first I’d like to interview Chrissy Carbone. I suspect her testimony, or lack thereof, will be sufficient to exculpate my client from any liability for the local kidnapping.”

“Actually, Counselor, you’ll be doing us a favor. If he’s released up here, he’ll be arrested and extradited to New York City to face charges there. So if you want, you can follow us back to New York City and pick up his defense in our jurisdiction.”

“That’s fine with me, Detective. One step at a time. First, I’ll get him out of this mess; then, I’ll clear him of your allegations in New York City. I’ve heard his story, and it is very convincing. A jury will eat this up. He’s quite the sympathetic character, you know. And by the way, I’m curious, what have you uncovered about this Troyer Savage? You have an obligation to do all you can to locate him and determine his culpability. If you don’t do a detailed
investigation, I intend to bring that up at trial. It seems to me that he is the culprit here, not Mr. Sullivan, so you best start doing your homework.”

“Don’t tell me my job, you pompous little man. I’ve been here before. Just do your job. I’ll see you in court.”

“You most assuredly will. In the meantime, my client is off-limits. You are not to have any further communication with him. Do you understand?”

Stone walked out of the room without responding.

*   *   *

Levy drove out to the Jervis Lodge to interview Chrissy Carbone. It took him only ten minutes before he was convinced that there was no possible way she could identify Thomas Sullivan as her abductor. Armed with that information, he placed a call to the Port Jervis County attorney’s office and spoke with his “frenemy” county prosecutor Alexander Codster.

“So when do you intend to arraign Thomas Sullivan?” Levy asked. “Your twenty-four hours are ticking away.”

“I’m aware of that, Harold. We’ve decided to turn him over to the New York City Police rather than pursing our case here for the time being.”

“That’s fine with me, I guess you found out I’ve just finished interviewing Chrissy Carbone, and she cannot identify my client.”