Murder.com (15 page)

Twenty-Six

Arrest

After the search of Lander's office, it took the police another twenty-four hours to complete their investigation to Bautista's satisfaction. As he had told Reuben, he was not about to take on a lawyer of Eskill Lander's prominence without covering all bases.

Bautista also needed to confer with the District Attorney's office about the proper charges against Eskill. An Assistant District Attorney named Jonathan Perkins was assigned to the case. It was agreed that murder in the second degree—causing death with the intent to do so—was appropriate. This could lead to life in prison upon conviction.

As their investigation continued, beyond the computer and cell phone records, Luis and his colleagues discovered that Eskill indeed had an E-ZPass for his Porsche. The records showed that the pass was used on the night of Marina's murder to cross the Triborough Bridge at 10:14 pm, thus showing that he had had enough time to kill Marina after leaving Quatorze Bis and before heading home to Greenwich.

A check with American Express showed a charge on Eskill's platinum card for a three-month subscription to Meet.com, thus removing any real doubt that Waggerson444 was Eskill Lander.

Another check, with American Airlines, determined that Irene Lander had indeed been in California on the dates of her husband's various rendezvous with Marina Courtland, confirming the
H
entries in his diary. Further investigation showed her reservations at the Mark Hopkins in San Francisco on the pertinent dates.

By this time, Eskill had hired the best criminal lawyer he could find, Paul Illingsworth, a partner in the firm of Rudenstine, Fried & D'Arms, who had obtained acquittals in six murder cases, including two notorious ones that had made his name well known.

Luis brought Reuben up-to-date in a call Wednesday evening. He informed him of the second-degree murder charge and, after negotiations with Illingsworth, it was agreed that Lander would surrender Thursday morning for his arraignment.

“I should tell Courtland about this,” Reuben said.

“Look, Reuben, what I've just told you about our arrest plans is strictly confidential. You shouldn't talk to Courtland or anyone else—including your partners—until the deed is done.”

“Fair enough. Give me a call when I'm free to talk to him.”

Luis called again the next morning. Eskill had been arraigned and released on a two-million-dollar bail, which his wife provided.

Reuben called Dan on his cell number and reached him at the Speedway. He went straight to the point.

“Dan, the NYPD made an arrest this morning of the man suspected of killing your daughter.”

“Who was it, Reuben?” Dan shouted over the Gasoline Alley noise. “Who killed her?”

Reuben took a deep breath before he pronounced the name: Eskill Lander.

“I can't believe it,” Dan said. “That goddam bastard.” It was the first time Reuben had ever heard the upright Dan Courtland swear.

“He was my lawyer. My confidant. My friend. Why? Why, Reuben, why? Explain this to me!”

“I'll try as best I can. The police have the physical evidence that clearly points to Lander. And I've tried to connect the dots to figure out the answer to your question: Why?”

Reuben went on to explain how Eskill had made contact with a girl named Hallie Miller on an Internet dating service.

“He must have been mad,” Dan said.

“Yes, quite possibly. But to go on, we learned from another young man who had met your daughter on the Internet that she had used the name Hallie Miller. Then when things got more serious between ‘Hallie' and him, she revealed that she was really Marina Courtland. She told this fellow her reason was that she was leery of guys after her money, men who'd recognize her status as a billionaire's daughter. So she used a pseudonym.”

“You're saying my daughter was a whore. Looking for men on the Internet.”

“I grant you it wasn't the way we went about it, Dan. But it's what young people do nowadays. It's perfectly respectable, if not always entirely innocent.”

“I wonder.”

“Lander also used a fake name and fudged the online description of himself. He said his name was Waggerson and that he was a private investor from Boston. So Marina had no way of knowing she was dating her father's lawyer, though we think she may have discovered that fact just before she was killed.”

“That evil, conniving son of a bitch.”

“Now I have no proof of this, but I suspect that Marina confessed to her identity the night she was killed. They were planning to go away for the weekend starting that evening—a new and more serious twist in their relationship, which up to then had only been going on in the City.”

“So once he knew that she was my daughter, he killed her?”

“That's my theory. He couldn't help but know your reputation for propriety and rectitude, and he most probably felt that you would pull your legal business if you found out about Marina's association with him.”

“I must say, Reuben, even in my wildest thoughts—and I've had plenty of them these past weeks—I never suspected Eskill Lander. The most far-out theory I had was that Marina's half-brother, Gino, had killed her. I've got to absorb this news. Let me call you later.”

That call, from Dan to Reuben, never came.

Twenty-Seven

Cleaning Up

As Reuben predicted, the tabloids the next morning had front-page headlines about Eskill's arrest:

HEIRESS'S KILLER NABBED

White Shoe Lawyer Arrested

for Courtland Murder

—
New York Post

WALL STREET SHOCKER

Legal Big Charged in

Courtland Girl's Death

—
New York Daily News

He dreaded going to the office, sure that he would be questioned on all sides. He was right.

When he reported to Russ Townley, the Executive Partner said he thought “a council of war is needed.”

“We've got some decisions to make. Let me get Jerry Felston, from litigation; young Sherwin Taylor, from T & E; and Hank Kramer. After all, now that Hank's in charge of the CDF account, he's the one most likely to be affected by all this. That sound right to you? An ad hoc committee to deal with the biggest scandal in the history of the firm?”

“Yes. Sounds prudent. Maybe a female voice, though, in case we start playing blame-the-victim?”

“I suppose,” Townley said in a not very convincing tone. “Grace?” He fluttered his hands upward.

He meant Grace Hartley, the most senior woman partner at the firm. A first-rate tax lawyer.

“Sure. Grace.”

Felston, Kramer, Taylor, and Hartley, all of whom had heard the office rumors—and seen the morning headlines—came to Townley's office at once and took seats around his conference table. The atmosphere was, to say the least, grim and tense.

“I assume this means we lose the CDF account,” Felston said.

“I think you can count on that,” Reuben replied.

“I don't believe the hit to our bottom line should be our biggest concern,” Hartley said. “What's our face to the public? That's more important. Do we need one of those crisis-control firms to help us?”

“That's ridiculous, Grace,” Felston snapped. “We're grown-up men—people—and we can use our common sense to handle the situation.”

“So, wise ones, let's begin. What's our obligation to Lander?” Townley asked. “He was a good citizen and partner for fifteen years, we must owe him something.”

“We have to make certain that he has proper counsel,” Felston said. “I'm sure he does—he asked me for a recommendation after the police visit to his office, and I told him to get Paul Illingsworth.”

“Illingsworth—that self-important publicity hound,” Townley said.

“Self-important, yes. But damned effective,” Felston replied. “Anyway, I'll check to see if Eskill hired him.”

“I understand his wife put up bail,” Reuben said.

“Miracles can happen,” Felston added.

“I hate to say it,” Reuben interjected, “but I think, Russ, you have to call Irene Lander. To tell her how sorry we are and to ask if there's anything we can do for her.”

“That woman. She doesn't need our sympathy or anything else. And I suspect if she'd been a warmer and sympathetic spouse, Eskill wouldn't be in the trouble he's in. You're right, though. I suppose I must call her. Another joyous task for the Executive Partner.”

“And also, as I told you, you've got to make sure you're the only one who speaks to the media,” Reuben said.

“Yes, I'll send around a memo about that,” Townley said.

“These are all minor details, my friends,” Kramer said. “The important question is what we do, what the partnership does, about Eskill.”

“I think we've got two choices. Suspend him until there are further developments, or terminate his partnership right away,” Felston said. “In other circumstances, I'd say ‘innocent until proven guilty' and suspend him. But here the evidence seems so clear, I'd vote to throw him out. Wouldn't you agree, Reuben?”

“Reluctantly, yes. The evidence really is quite overwhelming.”

The others agreed. Townley said he would call a special meeting of the firm for the next day, with a conference call arranged for the out-of-town partners.

“I'm also proposing, subject to everybody's agreement, that you, Sherwin, get in touch with all Lander's clients,” Townley added. “Tell them you are taking them over and try to answer the hundred questions they're likely to have.”

“That's fine, Russ, but there may be cases where you should make the call,” Felston said.

“I suppose. Sherwin and I can confer about that.”

“I don't envy either of you that task. Very tricky,” Kramer said. He changed to a mocking tone, “Hello, Mrs. Grady, I just wanted you to know that your trusted and revered lawyer, Eskill Lander, has been arrested on a murder charge. But don't worry, I'm here to look after everything.”

Neither Townley nor Taylor appeared to appreciate the mockery but did not say anything. Townley changed the subject.

“Sherwin, I think you should take control of Eskill's files. Move them into your office and lock them up.”

“In addition to that, I'd seal off his office,” Reuben said.

“Good idea,” Townley agreed as their meeting broke up.

By the next day, the press had learned of the attorney-client relationship between Eskill and his victim's father. They had also been told, presumably by an indiscreet source at the police department, that there was “a possible romantic involvement” between murderer and victim. Another field day:

FULL-SERVICE LAWYER?

Marina Courtland's Killer

Was Her Billionaire Father's Attorney—

And Just Possibly Her Lover

—
New York Post

THIS IS HOW YOU GET BUSINESS?

Courtland Killer (and Maybe Lover) Was Lawyer for Girl's Father

—
New York Daily News

“Just the kind of publicity Dan Courtland wants,” Reuben remarked to Cynthia over breakfast.

“I wonder who tipped them off to the connection.”

“It didn't take much digging. It's public knowledge that Chase & Ward represents CDF, and I think Dan himself has been mentioned as a client in stories a couple of times.”

The efforts of the press to track down Dan Courtland failed. But he was almost as much a prisoner as Eskill, trapped in seclusion in his Indianapolis home with a security guard outside. He was beside himself for missing the final preparations for the Memorial Day race, but he couldn't bear the thought of coming face-to-face with the media types chasing him down.

His imprisonment did not prevent him from making his views known on the telephone, however. He managed to get through, without any help or encouragement either from Reuben or Luis, to Jonathan Perkins, the Assistant District Attorney in charge of the Lander case.

Dan expressed his outrage that Eskill had not been charged with first-degree murder. According to Luis, based on Perkins's account, the ADA had done his best to explain that such a charge was reserved for a list of special circumstances, such as the killing of a policeman or a corrections officer or a witness to another crime, a killing for hire or a killing in the course of another felony. He also told Dan that second-degree murder was the highest category of felony possible in the circumstances. Then when asked if the death penalty was applicable and Perkins said no, Dan became “excessively abusive.”

Then the
New York Times
had a break, scooping the tabloids. Ben Gilbert, the medical student who had dated Marina, contacted the paper's reporter on the case and said he had a theory, which he would disclose to the reporter if he were guaranteed anonymity. The reporter did so, feeling she had nothing to lose. If the theory made sense, it was worth the grant of anonymity. If it did not, she could simply forget the whole thing.

Gilbert told the reporter the same story he had earlier related to the police, jumping to the conclusion that Eskill Lander had dated “Hallie” and only found out the Courtland connection later. At which point, he killed her. Another press field day, with references and awful puns based on
double identity
,
double dealing
,
double blind date
,
double cross
, and, of course,
double play
.

Eskill Lander's office remained sealed for two weeks. He had made no attempt to come to Chase & Ward since his arraignment and, as far as anyone knew, had not been in touch with anyone at the firm—except when Townley called to notify him that his partnership was terminated.

Reuben concluded that the sealed office was an embarrassment and suggested to Russ Townley, after checking with Luis—who had no objection—that it be cleared out. Townley agreed, but asked Reuben to accompany Wayne Kidde, the office manager, when he emptied Eskill's quarters.

Once unsealed, the office yielded a few surprises. All Eskill's files had been removed and taken over by Sherwin Taylor, as Townley had directed. Inside, there was a clothes closet, which contained nothing except an old raincoat and an umbrella. Eskill's worktable had no drawers, so the only spaces that needed clearing out were his desk drawers. They were locked, but Kidde had a master key, which he used to open the desk.

Kidde deferred to Reuben once the drawers were opened. There he found Lander's checkbook, a pile of receipts for some charitable contributions, monthly bank statements, and the related canceled checks.

The top drawer seemed even less interesting: a box of paper clips, a pack of rubber bands. Then there came a surprise: a folded-up piece of stationery which, when opened up, had a photograph attached with a clip showing Eskill and Marina sitting at an outdoor restaurant table, a nearly finished meal in front of them. The paper enclosing the photograph read: “Apropos of our conversation, here is a copy of the picture from last Friday. I have another copy, as I told you, which I hope I won't have to use.” It was signed “Ed.” As in Edward Joyner.

“Oh my God,” Frost murmured to himself as he examined the note and the photo he clutched in his hand. He closed his eyes as he pieced together in his imagination what this discovery meant. It was clear: The hapless Chase & Ward associate Joyner had encountered Marina and Eskill eating al fresco at Quatorze and snapped their picture with the camera on his new phone. Then he'd blackmailed Eskill—presumably to support his quixotic and unrealistic bid for partnership or perhaps for money—with the incriminating photo, leading Eskill to commit a second murder.

“I'll let you take care of the books. I have no interest in them,” Reuben said to the office manager, pointing to the shelves of legal tomes and bound volumes of past legal transactions lining the walls. He gingerly put the offending photo and note in his pocket, giving no clue to the others of their significance, and retreated to his own office as quickly as he could.

He called Luis at once.

“Can you come up to the house?” Reuben asked. “I don't mean for a friendly drink. I've got something you must see.”

“Something really interesting, huh?”

“Don't doubt my word.”

“I'm on my way.”