Three Dog Day (22 page)

“
Very well. I now call the defendant, Mr. Jerrod Clifton, to the stand.”

Clifton spoke quietly with his attorney for a moment and then stood and was sworn in. He took his seat looking completely self-possessed. Dory wondered how he could possibly be acting so cool in light of the horrific condition of the dogs.

“
Mr. Clifton, you're accused of leaving multiple dogs and young puppies with inadequate food and water for a lengthy period. What say you?”

“
Judge, I left Rose County on New Year's Day to visit my cousin, Jake Clifton, in Knoxville. I put Mr. Webster Johnston in charge of the kennel while I was gone. I had paid him to take care of the dogs while I was away before and it was never a problem.”

“
May I speak, Judge?” Mr. Mitchell, Clifton's attorney asked.

When Judge Sower nodded, he said, “My client, Jerrod Clifton, cannot be held liable for neglect or animal cruelty when he was out of town and had appointed Mr. Webster Johnston to tend to the dogs in his absence.”

The judge didn't respond for a moment. He took a breath, glaring at Mr. Mitchell in vexation. “I believe it is my job, and not yours
,
to decide whether or not Mr. Clifton is
liable
,” the judge said coldly. “I'm tempted to cite you in contempt for that remark.”

“
I beg your pardon, Your Honor.” The defense attorney looked suitably abashed.

“
Very well. I understand that the person who was assigned to care for the dogs, Web Johnston, was brutally murdered and found near the defendant's property during the period in question.” The judge looked at the spectators seated in the courtroom. “I have a final question for Dr. Weil. I remind you, sir, you are still under oath. Please stand.”

“
Yes, Judge.” Dr. Weil got to his feet.

“
At the vet school, when the chief caregiver for animals is away, how are the animals cared for?”

“
The policy of the vet school is to have a second and third person appointed for animal care duty. Thus, even if the second person falls ill or is unable to fulfill his duties, the third person is automatically prepared to step in. In fact, we have a phone and text tree that's put in place so that if the first or second caregiver is unable to care for the animals, they are notified immediately so that a third person can take over. We take animal care extremely seriously at the vet school.”

“
Very well. You may be seated.”

The judge turned back to Jerrod, still sitting in the witness box. “Now Mr. Clifton, are you asking to have the dogs returned to you?” the judge asked.

“
No, Your Honor,” Clifton said. “I'd already decided to close down the operation before I went to Knoxville. I left instructions with Mr. Johnston to remove all the dogs from my property.”

Dory's stomach clenched; this bastard was so smooth, she was afraid he was going to get off with a slap on the wrist.

“
You may resume your seat at the defendant's table, Mr. Clifton. I am now prepared to make a ruling on this case,” the judge said. “All the confiscated dogs will remain the property of the ASPCA. Further, the defendant, Jerrod Clifton, will serve sixty days in jail for not having arranged adequate backup care for the animals. He will also pay a fine of four thousand dollars to the ASPCA to cover their costs. Finally, Mr. Clifton, you are prohibited by law,” at this, Judge Sower lowered his bushy eyebrows in a fierce frown, “prohibited, I say, under penalty of a severe sentence, to ever own a dog again. This court is adjourned.” He banged his gavel.

Dory and Ray Fenton walked out together. As they exited the courtroom, they were mobbed by the press. Carrie Adams, dressed in a red suit, walked quickly toward them, an intent look on her face. Dory was not going to be caught out again. She grabbed Ray by the arm and started to push her way through the gaggle of reporters.

“
Miss Clarkson, what can you tell us about the dead body found on the Clifton property?” Carrie Adams asked, pushing her microphone in Dory's direction. All the reporters joined in a chorus of questions about the identification of the dead man. Dory continued to say, “No comment” over and over again, pushing her way through the crowd of reporters and virtually running until she and Ray were safely inside her car.

Once she locked the doors and took a deep breath, Dory pulled out of the parking lot and drove to the Donut Den. She knew she was taking a risk. Those donuts were awfully tempting. Remembering the slim Marina Seng, Dory ordered black coffee for herself and chocolate milk and a bear claw donut for Ray. They were seated at a window table looking out at a bright windy day. The snow had melted, but the parking lot was wet with near freezing rain.

“
Ray, Detective Nichols and I didn't have enough time to talk with you the other day in the office. I have the feeling you know something more than you told us about Mr. Web Johnston.” Dory tipped her head to one side.

Ray kept his eyes right on Dory's. He blinked several times but didn't speak.

“
My guess is that you were on the Clifton property before the big snowstorm and you saw Mr. Johnston there. I think Mr. Johnston struck you and you fought back. I noticed the bruise on your cheek the first time I met you. Is that what happened?”

“
Yes,” Ray said, looking uncomfortable with the conversation. He turned his eyes away and Dory waited, sipping her coffee.

“
Tell me about that day, please,” Dory said. “How did you get out there?”

“
I have a dirt bike and I ride on a trail that gets me over there. You're not supposed to ride them on the road, but I'm only on a road a little bit of the way. I did go out to Clifton's property the day before we got all that snow. Mr. Jerrod gave me the week off, but I wanted to see Pearl Jam and feed and water the other dogs. I was worried about them. When I got there, Web Johnston was about to load some of the puppies into cages in the back of his truck. I screamed at him to stop. He pushed me away. I scratched him.” Ray was breathing hard. “He pushed me again and I fell down. He stood over me and yelled, ‘If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of here.' I tried to hurt him, but he was way bigger and stronger than me.” He looked at Dory with shame in his eyes. “After that, I was scared and I just left on my bike.”

“
I know, son. I'm sure you were scared.” Dory put her hand on Ray's bony arm. “Don't worry. Web Johnston's dead and we're going to get the guy who killed him. The sheriff thinks Jerrod Clifton did it. I know you're still worried that Mr. Clifton will come after you, but for the next sixty days, he's in jail. And before he gets out, the sheriff hopes to get him for Web's murder.”

T
he staff meeting was about to start. Wayne was tired and knew he wasn't functioning at his peak, having stayed out late to meet with Jacko the previous night. He and Rob Fuller had met at Sal's bar, a venerable gathering spot caught between a working class area and the gentrification of upscale infill development. The weekly Rosedale paper had been full of efforts by local citizens to shut down Sal's bar. A new middle school was being built in the area and parents feared that drug dealers might be seeking the next generation of buyers from their base at Sal's.

Sal's was an institution in Rose County. Past Mont Blanc on the county line near Nashville, the building had originally been a stone farmhouse. The farmland had been converted into a rougher area of blue collar neighborhoods and strip malls and now sat on only a quarter of an acre. Sal had purchased the property decades ago and enlarged it over the years. The main floor had tables and a fine old wooden bar with the requisite picture of a naked woman. Unlike most such works displayed in bars, this one was by the French artist, Edouard Manet. Called, ‘Olympia,' the woman wore nothing but a black velvet ribbon around her neck. An African American woman in the background was bringing her mistress some paper-wrapped flowers. Wayne had known the owner, Salvatore Notariani, for years and asked him about it once.

“
My wife said if I wanted to have a picture of a naked woman, I had to have a classy one. The original of this painting is in a museum in Paris, so that's classy, right?”

Sal's served mostly bar food and sandwiches; their Rueben was known to be the best in the area. His clientele were older men in their fifties and sixties. The antique slot machines in the basement were a draw, although most no longer worked. Videogames were slowly replacing them. The space also housed the occasional illegal poker game. Wayne gambled there from time to time, picking up bits of information relevant to cases. Two “waitresses” worked the place, both in their late forties. One of them, a buxom brunette named Marie, was one of Wayne's confidential informants. When he recruited her, she said she was getting too old for the sex game and wanted an easier way to make a living. She had switched to waitressing, but wasn't making enough money. Wayne had gently refused her offers of anything beyond food, liquor, and information.

Wayne had picked Rob up at his apartment, having told him to dress casually. Rob came down the steps from the brick building in new jeans and a black leather jacket. It looked expensive to Wayne, and he fought down the impulse to ask Rob if he had anything older. Even in jeans, Rob looked like a cop.

“
Where are we going tonight?” Rob asked as he slid into the front seat of the pickup.

“
We're going to Sal's bar. Tell me about the stakeout you and Cam did,” Wayne said.

“
We spent the night in one of the old brownstones in Rosedale. A family home converted into apartments, falling apart and in foreclosure. It was coming up for auction the next day.”

“
Did you get anything?”

“
No. We sat there all night in the dark. Cam brought coffee and sandwiches for both of us. Luckily, the one bathroom was still working. She found two old chairs and we sat there until the sun came up, talking like we were in college. I like her.”

Wayne gave Rob a glance.

“
Yeah. You're right. I'm attracted to her, but I found out she's dating a cop in Nashville. Undercover, actually. Ben reminded me of the ‘no fraternization' rule before the stakeout, but I was still hopeful, until she told me she's in a relationship. No way I'm going to mess with that.” Rob looked out the car window.

“
So, nobody tried to get into the house or steal anything?” Wayne asked.

“
No. Ben's convinced that Jerrod Clifton's the ring leader of the copper theft operation, and he's in lockup. So, it was a long shot, but worth a try.”

“
Did you go to the auction the next day?”

“
I did. It was interesting. There were five bidders there. They have to buy the houses sight unseen, although they can walk around the outside and look through the windows. Bidders put down cashier's checks for ten thousand dollars to enter the bidding. If they win the house and can't produce the purchase price, they forfeit the down payment. This one went to a young couple—flippers who specialize in fixing up these older homes.”

“
When I read your report, it occurred to me that somebody from the auction house might be guilty of taking architectural elements from the houses. I couldn't understand why the purchasers didn't get the keys to the house until the day after the auction,” Wayne said.

“
Yeah, I thought about that too. Apparently the auction house needs a day to be sure the payments clear the banks. But they're considering closing that loophole. The auction house makes the same amount of money whether the house being sold is looted or not, but a group of flippers went to the auction board recently to complain. Starting next month, the people who win the bids will get keys the same day.”

“
Have you checked out the auctioneers?” Wayne asked, pausing for a stoplight.

“
I started looking into them, but it's taking me a while. So, why are we going to Sal's?”

“
Jacko hangs out at Sal's, and I have another CI there—Marie. She's a working girl, or she used to be.”

Rob's mouth quirked into a surprised grin. Wayne thought Rob was going to enjoy this field trip.

They pulled into a parking lot. It was early for serious drinkers, only about ten o'clock. They walked in and stood at the bar. Wayne ordered a Budweiser. Rob asked for a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. The barkeep just looked at him, frowning.

“
He'll have a Bud,” Wayne said, gruffly. Three beers later, Jacko made an appearance. They left the bar and joined him at a table. Marie came over and asked what they wanted to eat. Wayne told Jacko to order something to eat, then cast a warning glance at Rob when he asked if they had quesadillas. Once the sandwiches and fries and Jacko's whiskey arrived, Wayne got down to business.

“
You've met my friend Rob here, I understand,” Wayne said.

Jacko nodded.

“
I noticed you managed to extract a fair bit of change out of him while giving him next to nothing,” Wayne said. His voice was flat.

“
Yeah, well, I didn't know much then.”

“
You better know a bit more now,” Wayne said. “Or you could join Jerrod Clifton in jail if you'd rather.” Jacko sipped his drink, considering.