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Authors: Phillip Margolin

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A rap on her doorjamb brought Mary’s eyes up from the memo she was writing. Mark Gilbert, her investigator, dropped into a chair.

“I thought you might be interested in this,” he said as he handed Mary a rolled police report written by Tom Oswald of the Shelby, Oregon, police department.

“You told me Miss Woodruff said Finley’s ship was the
China Sea
and it was docked in Shelby, so I decided to see if I could find out anything about it, and sure enough this cop wrote a report. It’s pretty interesting. I think you should give him a call.”

As soon as Mary finished Oswald’s report, she swiveled toward her phone and dialed Shelby PD. Ten minutes later, she turned to face her investigator again.

“We’re meeting after his shift tonight.”

“Do you want me to come along?”

“No, I think he’ll talk more freely if it’s just me. You know, he said something interesting as soon as we were connected.”

“What’s that?”

“He said he’d been expecting my call.”

“I wonder why.”

“I didn’t want to push him. I’ll ask tonight.”

“One more thing,” Gilbert said. “I still have informants from my days as a cop. I’ve been trolling for information, and I came up with some interesting stuff. A few days after Finley was kidnapped, two men were found on a logging road. They’d been murdered. The men worked for a Mexican drug cartel. One of them was wearing a leather jacket.”

“Like the kidnapper Sarah described.”

“There’s a rumor on the street that Finley had a quarter million dollars with him when he left the ship and that’s why the kidnappers were following him.”

“Finley told Sarah that he was rescued by government agents. They must have taken the money when they killed the drug dealers.”

“Makes sense. Tell me what happens tonight,” Gilbert said.

“Will do.”

If Mary hadn’t run a MapQuest search, she might have missed the bar, which stood on an empty lot away from a run-down gas station on an otherwise unpopulated stretch of highway. There were no streetlights on this part of the road. A quarter moon and the neon beer signs in the tavern window provided a little light. A pickup and a beat-up Chevy were parked in the gravel lot that fronted the tavern. The isolation made Mary uneasy, but her hand gripped the handle of a .38 Special she carried in the deep pocket of her belted Burberry trench coat.

When Mary opened the door to the bar, she was hit by the smell of stale beer and sweat. The inside of the tavern was almost as dark as the outside, and it took a moment before her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Two men were perched on stools, nursing drinks at opposite ends of a scarred, liquor-soaked bar. The bartender and the two men turned and stared when the door opened. Mary didn’t waste any time on them. She scanned the tables and found the only other customer nursing a beer in a booth in the back.

“Officer Oswald?” Mary asked as she sat on the bench opposite the policeman. Oswald nodded, and he didn’t stare. Garrett was well known to people in law enforcement. Mary pointed at his beer.

“Can I get you a refill?’

“Sure.”

When Mary returned from the bar, she placed a cold beer in front of the officer and took a swig from her bottle.

“Thanks for meeting me. As I said on the phone, I’m representing Sarah Woodruff.”

“The cop who’s charged with murder.”

“Right. A ship called the
China Sea
came up in our investigation, and my investigator found your report. I’d appreciate it if you can tell me what happened the night you answered the 911.”

“The ship was docked near a warehouse, and the night watchman reported shots,” Oswald said. “We found five dead men on the ship and a lot of hashish in the hold.”

Mary nodded. “That’s in the report. What I don’t understand is why there aren’t any other reports. I mean, there were five dead men. I assume that’s not run-of-the-mill in Shelby.”

“Yeah, well this whole deal wasn’t run-of-the-mill. We don’t usually get invaded by Homeland Security, either.”

“And they told you to back off, that they were taking over?”

Oswald shrugged. “And my boss agreed. He was right. We would have ended up turning it over to the state police, so why not the feds?”

“And that’s everything that happened?”

“Didn’t the DA tell you the rest of it?”

“What DA?”

“I talked to two of them.”

“Look, Tom, all this information about the
China Sea
is new to me. So why don’t you tell me what isn’t in the report.”

Oswald took a swig from his bottle. Mary got the impression that he was making a decision. After a he thought for a few moments, Oswald wiped some moisture from his mouth and started talking.

“Jerry and I couldn’t let go, so we drove back to the dock. This was a day later. The ship was gone, and Dave Fletcher, the night watchman who’d called in the 911, wasn’t there either. I drove out to his place. It was deserted. One of his neighbors told me she hadn’t seen Fletcher or his car since the night I was called to the dock. I talked to Fletcher’s boss at the company that provides the security guards. He told me Fletcher didn’t work there anymore and they didn’t know where he’d gone.”

“Do you know what happened to him?” Mary asked.

“I have no idea. He has family in town, and they filed a missing-person report. I’ve followed up from time to time, but he vanished off the face of the earth.

“If I had to bet, I’d put my money on the men who disappeared the ship. You read about the CIA kidnapping terrorists all the time and taking them to secret prisons.”

Oswald paused. He looked ill. “Dave was a good guy, a veteran. I hope to God he’s still alive.”

“Did Mr. Fletcher tell you anything you didn’t write in the report?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, the chief told me to make the report bare bones, so I didn’t put in a lot of stuff. For instance, Fletcher told me he’d seen a man run from the ship and drive away. The man was staggering, and Fletcher thought he might be wounded. He also thought another car followed the man when he drove off.”

Mary started to get a funny feeling in her gut. “When I called you and told you I represented Sarah Woodruff, you said you’d been expecting my call. Why do you think what happened on the
China Sea
has something to do with Sarah Woodruff’s case?”

“Shortly before your client’s first case came to trial, a Multnomah County DA named Monte Pike called me. You know that several prints were found in your client’s house that couldn’t be identified when they were run through AFIS.”

Mary nodded.

“Pike ran them again and came up with a match to a print I put into AFIS a few days after I lifted it.”

“You didn’t turn over all the evidence to the Homeland Security guys.”

Oswald leaned forward. “I do not appreciate being treated like a hick, and I especially do not appreciate being treated like a hick by some asshole whose salary is paid by my taxes.”

Mary smiled. “Where did the print come from?”

“The hatch covering the hashish.”

Mary let out a low whistle. “Did Pike know about the hash and the wounded man who ran from the ship?”

“That I don’t know, but I assume the other prosecutor told him.”

“What other prosecutor?”

“The one I saw in Portland—Dietz. My chief told me to keep my mouth shut about the
China Sea
, and I didn’t want Homeland Security pissed at me, so I told Pike I didn’t know anything about the print, and I never got back to him. But I started to feel guilty. You know, Woodruff’s a cop, and this stuff with the ship didn’t feel right. My conscience was really bothering me, and I was in Portland on business. When I finished what I had to do, I went to the DA’s office to talk to Pike, but he was in trial and they told me that Dietz was lead counsel. So I told him everything. Didn’t he tell you about the ship?”

“No, Tom, he didn’t, and I’m going to find out why. Will you get in trouble with your chief for talking to me?”

“If he brings it up, I’ll handle it. Woodruff is a cop. If she killed the guy, I’ve got no sympathy for her. But I’m not going to sit on information that can prove she didn’t do it. What kind of person would I be if I did that?”

The next morning, Mary called Monte Pike as soon as she got to work. A half hour later, she and Pike were seated in a conference room in the Multnomah County District Attorney’s office.

“So Mary, what’s up?” Monte asked when they’d concluded their small talk.

“Does a freighter named the
China Sea
mean anything to you?”

“No.”

“Max Dietz can tell you all about it.”

Pike’s brow furrowed. The young DA seemed genuinely puzzled.

“Why does Max know about this ship, and what does it have to do with the
Woodruff
case?”

“Remember the fingerprint you found in Sarah Woodruff’s house that you ran through AFIS?”

“Yeah. It matched a print from a case in Shelby. I talked to a cop there, but he never got back to me.”

“The cop’s name is Tom Oswald. My investigator tracked down his report about the
China Sea
. Oswald found the print on the ship. He came to Portland looking for you after you called Shelby about the latent. You were in trial, so he met with Dietz instead.” Mary handed Pike a copy of Oswald’s police report. “I talked to Oswald last night. He verified everything he wrote and added a few items that aren’t in the report. Max knew everything Oswald told me.”

When Pike finished reading the report, Mary told him about the disappearance of the ship and the night watchman.

“And there’s more. Shortly after Finley was kidnapped, two dead men were found on a logging road. They’d been shot to death, and they were working for a Mexican drug cartel. I think they were the men who kidnapped Finley from Sarah’s condo.”

“What do you want, Mary?”

“I want you to dismiss the indictment. This is a clear case of prosecutorial misconduct. Max had a duty to tell me about this exculpatory evidence.”

“Max may have violated the ethics rules, but any effect his misconduct had on Woodruff’s first case was cured by the dismissal.”

“Would you have gotten this new indictment if the grand jury knew everything I’ve just told you?” Mary asked.

Pike considered the question, and Mary waited anxiously for his answer. When she got it, she had trouble hiding her disappointment.

“Yeah,” Pike said. “I would still have presented the case even with this new information. Everything you’ve told me applies to the first case, not this one.”

“How can you say that? If Finley was involved with black ops and drug cartels, it presents several alternatives to the theory that Sarah killed him.”

“This stuff about drug dealers and CIA assassins is total speculation. Do we even know that there was hashish in the hold of the
China Sea
? Was the substance tested in a lab?”

“Homeland Security absconded with the ship and its cargo. There was no opportunity to test it.”

“So the answer is no. And you’re conveniently ignoring a few things. This stuff about spies and drug cartels is fascinating, but it doesn’t explain away these facts: One, Finley had an argument with your client on the night he was killed; two, he was murdered with a gun that was stolen from the evidence room of the Portland Police Bureau; and three, your client is the last person to have contact with that gun. Spies or no spies, the evidence says that Sarah Woodruff murdered John Finley.”

“Don’t be naive, Monte. The CIA has people on its payroll who could steal a gun from the police evidence room if they wanted to frame Sarah. Remember the Finley DVD? Someone broke into Judge Nesbit’s chambers and left it. You can’t honestly tell me that nothing about this case raises a reasonable doubt in your mind about Sarah’s guilt.”

“If I had a reasonable doubt, I wouldn’t pursue the case. I believe your client killed John Finley. Just because we made a mistake the first time around doesn’t mean Woodruff gets a free pass this time. In fact, it is her audacity in thinking that she can get away with murder because we screwed up in her first case that motivates me.”

“I guess we disagree on what this case is really about,” Mary said as she pulled a stack of papers from her attaché and handed them to Pike. “I was hoping we could resolve this matter once you learned about Finley’s connection to the
China Sea
. These are copies of my motions to dismiss for prosecutorial misconduct and discovery that I’m filing as soon as I leave our meeting. Sarah Woodruff didn’t kill John Finley this time any more than she did the first time you made the mistake of charging her. He was killed by drug dealers or agents of the United States government who want to keep the public from learning about the
China Sea
. I’m going to make sure that everyone knows about the CIA’s dirty little secret.”

Max Dietz had no idea why Jack Stamm had summoned him to his office, but he began to feel uneasy when he found Monte Pike and the district attorney waiting for him, looking like mourners at a funeral.

“What’s up, Jack?” Dietz asked as he took a seat.

“Monte has just given me some disturbing information.”

“Oh?” Dietz said, turning his head toward his fellow prosecutor.

“What do you know about a ship named the
China Sea
?” Stamm asked.

“Oh, that,” Dietz answered, smiling to mask the fear that washed over him like a red tide. Dietz didn’t know what Pike and Stamm knew, so he held his tongue, hoping one of them would fill the void with information he could use to figure out a cover story.

“Did a police officer from Shelby visit you while Sarah Woodruff was awaiting trial under the first indictment?”

“Yes.”

“What did he tell you, Max?” Stamm asked.

“I don’t remember everything,” Dietz hedged. “It was a few months ago.”

“Why don’t you tell us what you do remember.”

Dietz felt sick. “What’s this all about, Jack? Why the third degree?”

“Mary Garrett met with Monte earlier today and told him about a discussion she had with Tom Oswald, the policeman you met with about Sarah Woodruff’s case. Mary was upset. She thought you’d breached your duty to tell her about exculpatory evidence that you had a duty to disclose under
Brady v. Maryland
.”

“Over that ship? What did it have to do with
Woodruff
?”

“Well, there were the fingerprints,” Stamm said. “Monte told you about them, didn’t he?”

This was all Pike’s doing
, Dietz told himself. The little prick had gone running to Stamm to build up brownie points and to sabotage Dietz’s career. Dietz was fuming inside, but he knew he was doomed if he showed any weakness.

Dietz smiled and shook his head. “Monte was all excited about some prints from Woodruff’s condo. I remember that.”

“Do you remember telling Monte to forget about the prints, that you didn’t want him pursuing them?”

“Sure. They had nothing to do with our case. Pursuing them would be a waste of valuable time. Pike had no idea who made them or when they were made, and they matched some case in Shelby. Our case had nothing to do with Shelby.”

“Until Officer Oswald visited you,” Stamm said. “He’s a police officer in Shelby. Didn’t he tell you that the print he lifted came from a hatch on the ship covering a shipment of hashish?”

“Hold up, Jack. Oswald said he thought it was hashish, but there were never any tests done on the stuff in the hold. And we didn’t know that the print was Finley’s. No one could ID it on either end.”

“The prints were compared to Finley’s prints this afternoon and they match,” Stamm said.

“I didn’t know that then.”

“But you did know that the night watchman saw a man run from a ship where five dead men were found and drive toward Portland, possibly followed by another car. And this was about when Finley would have had to leave the ship if he was going to arrive at Woodruff’s house when he did.”

“Jack, this is speculation. We had nothing then that would have proved the guy who fled from the ship was Finley. No one had a match for those prints.”

“Sarah Woodruff contended that men broke into her house, fought with Finley, and kidnapped him. That fits the information Oswald gave you.”

“Only if we knew it was Finley who ran from the ship, and I didn’t. Look, Jack, Garrett would have had the jury running around in circles if she introduced evidence of drug dealers and terrorists and God knows what else, which is exactly what would have happened if I had told her about the ship.”

Dietz could see the disappointment on Stamm’s face. “You’re better than this, Max. We all want to win, but prosecutors have a higher duty, and that is to seek justice. Justice is never served if an innocent person is convicted.”

“I honestly believed Woodruff was guilty. I know I was wrong, now. But I believed it then. And giving Garrett this incendiary information . . .”

“Evidence of innocence is always incendiary, Max.”

“I didn’t see the evidence pointing toward innocence. I thought it was about an incident that had nothing to do with Sarah Woodruff. It was a judgment call.”

“Then you showed poor judgment.”

“Where is this going, Jack?”

“I’m not certain. I want to give this matter serious thought. Why don’t you do the same, and I’ll get back to you.”

“OK, but I didn’t do anything wrong here.”

Dietz left with his head held high, but his shoulders sagged as soon as the door to Stamm’s office closed behind him. He felt dizzy, sick. Everything had gone downhill for him since Woodruff’s first case had been dismissed, and his career was going to come to a crashing halt if something good didn’t happen fast.

It was almost four, and Dietz couldn’t concentrate, so he left the courthouse. When he got home, he shed his jacket and tie and fixed himself a stiff drink. What had he done to deserve this kind of treatment? Nothing, he told himself. It was Pike. The suck-up had run to Stamm as soon as Garrett complained. Pike was trying to destroy him. Would Garrett file an ethics complaint with the bar? Would Stamm sack him? What if he was out in the street in disgrace? What would he do then? Dietz slumped forward and held his head in his hands. He’d talked to several people about the
China Sea
, and no one had gotten back to him. It looked like the ship was not only a dead end, but he might end up going down with it.

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