Wild Justice (8 page)

18 Bobby Vasquez found Sean McCarthy neck deep in paperwork when he walked into the squad room and pulled up a chair to the detective s desk. Hey, Bobby, McCarthy said. What have you got? A lot, he answered, opening a file he was carrying. Cardoni grew up outside of Seattle. His parents were divorced and Cardoni started getting in trouble soon after the split. He was a star wrestler in high school, excellent grades, but he was also arrested for assault. The case never came to trial. I don t know why it was dismissed. After high school Cardoni went to Penn State on a wrestling scholarship, but he lost it in his sophomore year when he was arrested for assault. Any specifics? I got the police report on that one. It was a bar fight. He really fucked up the other guy. Cardoni went into the army as part of a plea bargain. Charges were dismissed. How d he do in the army? No trouble I could find. He qualified for the wrestling team and trained during his hitch. He also excelled at unarmed combat. After the army, Cardoni went to Hearst College, in Idaho. Good grades, NCAA Division Two nationals as a junior and a senior, then medical school in Wisconsin and a residency at New Hope Hospital in Denver. Any trouble in Idaho, Wisconsin or Colorado? Cardoni was the defendant in a malpractice suit in Colorado. The insurance company settled it. I ve got rumors of cocaine use, and there were a couple of sexual harassment complaints that went nowhere. After Cardoni finished his residency, he moved to Portland. Where does Cardoni s money come from? McCarthy asked. Some of it comes from an inheritance. His folks are dead. I also hear that he s invested wisely. McCarthy leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers together thoughtfully. If Cardoni is a serial killer, he may have cut his teeth before moving to Portland. Find out if a killing field like the one near the cabin was ever found in Washington, Pennsylvania, Idaho, Wisconsin, Colorado or any other place Cardoni lived. Okay. And while we re on the subject, did you have any luck tracing the ownership of the Milton County property? None. I went to the banks that cut the cashier s checks, but there was no record of the purchases because they were under ten thousand dollars. Is there anything new on your end? A little. I m certain that the Milton County cabin is the place where the illegal organs were harvested. Remember those jars in the refrigerator? The ones with Viaspan written on them? Right. Viaspan is a cardiac preservation fluid. Before you cut the heart out of a donor s body, you inject Viaspan into it. It replaces the blood, fills up the vessels and preserves the heart so the metabolic processes don t continue when the heart stops beating. After you remove the heart, you place it in a plastic bag filled with Viaspan. Viaspan would also be used when transplanting other organs. Like a kidney? Exactly. We ve also identified several of the victims. The decapitated woman without the heart is Jane Scott, a runaway. One of the victims is Kim Bowers, a prostitute who disappeared a year and a half ago, and another is Louise Pierre. The Lewis and Clark student who went missing in June? McCarthy nodded One of the males is Rick Elam, a shipping clerk who was reported missing in September. Elam and Pierre were missing kidneys. Now, here is the interesting part. Scott, Elam and Pierre were patients at St. Francis within months of their disappearances. No shit! Were any of them a patient of Cardoni? No, but they didn t have to be. All you need to do to find a donor for a heart is to find a person whose blood type is compatible with the recipient s and who is within twenty percent of the recipient s body weight. The heart of a person with type O blood can be given to anyone. All Cardoni or Grant had to do was look at their files. Were any of the other victims missing organs? McCarthy shook his head sadly. It looks like Cardoni was just having fun with some of those poor bastards and mixing business with pleasure with the others.

19 Amanda was half an hour late for her date with Tony Fiori when she finally arrived at the YMCA. On the ride over she had worried that he would think she d stood him up, but he smiled when he saw her. I m sorry, Amanda apologized. I had a jury out and they came back just before five. Did you win? Amanda let her grin answer the question. It was so great, Tony. Dad put me on the court appointment list so I could get more trial experience, and they appointed me to help this poor woman, Maria Lopez. She s a single mother and she s got these three maniac kids. So she s at Kmart and Josher two-year-old, streaks down the aisle toward these toys, so she stuffs a roll of Scotch tape and a bottle of aspirin in her coat pocket and goes after him. Josnows how to run, but he hasn t figured out stopping yet. Bam, he goes headfirst into this display counter. Maria is holding Joswho is screaming his head off, and trying to comfort Teresa, who s three and is screaming to keep Josompany, and trying to keep an eye on Miguel, who s four. Naturally she forgets about the tape and the aspirin, and some idiot security officer arrests her for shoplifting. How did you get her off? I slam-dunked the security officer. He testified that Maria was looking around stealthily when she slipped the stuff in her pocket. And he said that Josidn t take off for a second or so after she secreted the goods on her person. He made Maria sound like some master thief. Then I showed him the videotape from the store s security camera. You should have heard him stammer and stutter after that. Maria was so grateful. She just manages to get by, and she was scared to death of what would happen to her kids if she went to jail. Sounds like you did a super job. Bet your ass I did, Amanda said, puffing up like a peacock. Then you deserve an amazing dinner as a reward. Oh? Where are we going? It s a surprise. I ll tell you when we re finished working out. They swam hard for an hour, and Amanda found that the time went quickly with Tony as her workout partner. She showered, toweled her hair dry and emerged from the locker room moments before Tony came out. Tell me where we re going to dinner, she demanded. I m famished. Great, because it s a very exclusive Italian place I know. Did you drive? Amanda nodded. Then follow me. Tony took the freeway, then exited onto the winding streets of a residential neighborhood with which she was unfamiliar. Finally Tony pulled into the driveway of a blue two-story Victorian with white gingerbread trim. A high hedge enclosed a small backyard, and a shaded porch fronted the street. Welcome to Papa Fiori s, home of the finest Italian food in Portland, Tony said when Amanda got out of her car. You re cooking? Ssignorina. Tony opened the front door and flipped on the lights. This is lovely, Amanda said as she admired the stained-glass windows above the front door. It was the windows that sold me. The place was built in 1912, and those are original. There was a television, a VCR and a stereo in the living room, but most of the furnishings in the house were in keeping with its age. Tony led Amanda through the dining room. The dining table was polished mahogany, ornate molding created a border for the high ceiling and the cherrywood mantel over the fireplace was decorated with intricately carved cherubs, dragons and devils. Is all this original, too? Mostly, yeah. It s all from the general period. Tony flipped on the kitchen light and pointed to a table near the stove. Why don t you sit over there while I prepare spaghetti and meatballs alla Fiori. Do you like garlic bread? I love it. Then you re in for a treat. This was as good as advertised, Amanda said after finishing a second piece of garlic bread. She felt fat and drowsy after consuming too much pasta and two glasses of Chianti. Some more wine? Just a little. I ve got to drive home. Tony topped off her glass and watched as Amanda took a sip. She caught him looking and smiled to let him know that she didn t mind. Amanda could not remember spending a more relaxing evening with a man. They carried their wineglasses into the living room. How s work coming? Tony asked as he lit the logs in the fireplace. I m pretty busy. You seem to like what you re doing. Yeah, for the most part, she answered wistfully. I d like more responsibility. You re working on the Cardoni case, aren t you? A little. The motion to suppress is set for Monday, and Dad s got me researching it. And I ve gone out with Herb Cross, our investigator, the guy you met at the hospital. How s it going? Tony asked when they were settled on the couch. I think we re going to get clobbered at the motion. How come? Do you understand what happens at a motion to suppress? I watch The Practice when I get a chance. Amanda took another sip of wine. Her stocking feet were up on Tony s coffee table and she could feel the heat from the fire on her soles. She decided that she wouldn t mind staying like this for a long time. Police usually need a warrant when they search a house, but there are exceptions. One of them comes into play when an officer doesn t have time to get a warrant because the evidence he s looking for might be destroyed or moved while he goes to a judge. That s what the cop who searched the cabin is claiming, and we can t find a way of getting around that. Tony was curled up on the couch beside Amanda. His hair was mussed, and the wine had put a glow in his cheeks. Amanda had a hard time keeping her eyes off him. What happens if you lose? Tony asked. The state gets to introduce all of the evidence it took from the mountain cabin and Cardoni s house in Portland, and our case is in big trouble. If Cardoni killed all of those people, maybe that isn t such a bad thing. That s one way to look at it. But really, if he s that cold, that cruel, wouldn t you want him locked away someplace where he couldn t hurt people? That s a question of punishment. It s for a judge to decide. You don t ask for the personal history of everyone you operate on, do you? If you found out a patient was a serial killer, would you refuse to treat him? I guess not. Tony looked at the fire for a moment. I wonder how a guy like that thinks. I mean, if he did it. Everyone has a dark side, but what he did . . . Some people just aren t made like the rest of us, Tony. I sat in when Dad talked to Albert Small. He s a psychiatrist Dad consults with on tough cases. What did he say? The serial killer who murdered the people at the cabin is called an organized nonsocial. They are very adept at fitting into society and have above-average intelligence, respectable looks and an uncanny ability to tune in to the needs of others, a skill they use to manipulate people and disarm potential victims. They also have active fantasy lives and visualize their crimes in advance. That helps them anticipate errors that could lead to their capture. I guess Cardoni fits that profile, right? He s a medical doctor and a good-looking man with above-average intelligence, and he was able to convince a bright woman like Justine Castle to marry him. That s true, but there are several differences between the profile and Cardoni. His outrageous behavior attracts attention. He botched operations, used drugs blatantly and made himself generally hated. I see what you mean, Tony said thoughtfully. He sure didn t anticipate errors that could lead to his capture. Leaving that mug and scalpel with his fingerprints at the scene of the murder was really dumb. If he left them. What do you mean? Cardoni claims that he s being framed. Planting those objects at the scene would be a smart move if Cardoni isn t the killer and the real killer wanted to set him up. Do you believe him? Do you think that s what s happening? Amanda sighed. I don t know. We pointed this out to Dr. Small, and he had an alternative explanation. Organized nonsocials are people who have never grown out of the me stage that most children are in until they re socialized. They think only of their own needs and see themselves as the center of the universe. They can t conceive of themselves as ever being wrong, which leads them to have very poor judgment on occasion. Their very belief in their own infallibility leads them to make mistakes. Add cocaine use to an already impaired ability to make sound judgments and you end up with someone who leaves incriminating evidence at a crime scene because he can t conceive of being caught. Amanda stifled a yawn, then blushed and laughed. Oh, my gosh. I m boring you, Tony said with a grin. Should I tell you some dirty jokes or juggle? Amanda gave him a sleepy smile. It s not you. I m just wiped from the workout and my trial. She yawned again. Tony laughed. Time for you to go home. Do you feel awake enough to drive? Amanda wondered if Tony would offer his guest bedroom if she answered in the negative and where that might lead. Before she could get too deep into those woods, Tony stood up. Let me fix you a cup of espresso, he said. I make it strong enough to get you to the moon and back without blinking. Frank was working in the den when Amanda came home a little after eleven. She stuck her head in the door and said, Hi. Frank looked up and smiled. Where ve you been? Remember Tony Fiori? Dominic s son? I had dinner with him. Really? I haven t seen Tony since . . . It must be at least ten years. How did you two get together? I talked to him at the Y a few weeks ago. Then we bumped into each other at St. Francis after Herb and I interviewed Justine Castle. We had coffee and he asked me out a few days later. What was he doing at St. Francis? He s a doctor. No kidding. Why are you so surprised? He had a tough time after Dom died. I heard he dropped out of school. I m glad to hear that things have worked out for him. Did you have a good time? Very. How d your trial go? Amanda gave Frank a thumbs-up, then told him about the case. All right, Frank answered enthusiastically just as the phone rang. Frank held up his hand and answered it. Is this Frank Jaffe? a man asked. Amanda looked at him expectantly, hoping that Tony was calling to say good night. Frank said, This is he, as he shook his head. I m beat, Dad. I m going to hit the hay, Amanda told him, and headed to her room. Frank waved at her, then returned to the phone. What can I do for you? Frank asked the caller. It s what I can do for you. Oh? I know something about the Cardoni case. We should talk.

20 On hot summer nights the Carrington, Vermont, marching band performed concerts in a gazebo on the town square, and you could lie back in the grass, look up at the stars and believe that you were living in a slower, more peaceful time when kids ate ice cream and played tag and adults whiled away the time strolling arm in arm down by Hobart Creek. On those nights the darkness hid the fact that many of the quaint nineteenth-century shops that surrounded the square were out of business or barely hanging on. In daylight there was no way to hide the poverty of the town where Justine Castle had grown up. As Herb Cross drove to James Knoll s farmhouse, he wondered what Justine s life had been like in this town of trailer parks, taverns and failing mills, and he hoped that the former chief of police could give him the answer. Knoll had seemed excited about the opportunity to talk about police work when Cross phoned him from the police station. He had even offered lunch. A tall, lanky man with a full head of snow-white hair, leathery skin and bifocals walked down from the porch as soon as Herb parked. Cross shook hands with Knoll. Come on inside. My wife fixed us some sandwiches and coffee. When they were seated at the kitchen table, Knoll studied the investigator. Portland to Carrington is a long way to travel. Our client is facing the death penalty. Knoll nodded to indicate that no other explanation was necessary. It s been some time since I ve thought about Justine Castle. Knoll shook his head. That was a bad business. What happened, exactly? I read a newspaper account, but the details were sketchy. We kept it that way. Didn t want a scandal. Gil was dead and there was a young woman s reputation at stake. Knoll took a bite of his sandwich and a sip of coffee before going on. Gil Manning was our star quarterback and star basketball player . . . and a star asshole. Course, everyone overlooked the asshole part because he was . . . A star? Herb smiled. Exactly. Justine was the prettiest girl in school, and they were an item starting in their junior year. Justine was our valedictorian. They were a glamorous couple. Homecoming weekend their senior year, Gil won the game with a ninety-yard run in the final minutes. It was all anyone talked about until they announced their engagement. Gil was a good high school athlete, but he wasn t good enough for a college athletic scholarship. He didn t have the grades, anyway. Justine could have gone to any college. She was accepted at quite a few, if I recall. Then she got pregnant and that was that. She and Gil were married the day after graduation and they moved in with his parents. That s when the trouble started. Gil couldn t handle life after high school. He wasn t important anymore. He always drank a lot, but that was boys-will-be-boys stuff while he was the big man on campus. After high school he was just another town problem when he got tanked up. The real trouble began when he started taking out his frustrations on Justine. One night Gil beat her up so bad she lost the baby. I tried to get her to tell the truth about what happened. It was pretty obvious that she hadn t fallen down any stairs. But Gil was at the hospital, hovering over her, real solicitous, and she wouldn t speak against him. Knoll shook his head sadly. Justine had always been so pretty and so bright, but the woman I saw at the hospital looked dragged out and used up, and she was only eighteen. It would have given me great pleasure to haul Gil s sorry ass to jail, but we had no case without Justine. Knoll paused to take a bite from his sandwich. Two months later we got a nine-one-one from the Manning place. It was Justine, scared to death. She was gulping air and could hardly speak. I got there about one in the morning. Gil was stretched out by the front door, facedown. She d killed him with his hunting rifle, one shot, right through the heart. When I got to the farm Justine was sitting at the kitchen table. She was still holding the phone. Dispatch had told her to stay on the line until we got there. I had to pry the receiver out of her hand. She was shaking like a leaf. Did she tell you what happened? Oh, yeah. We talked about it once I got her settled down. Gil had insisted she go drinking with him. She didn t want to, but he made a scene. Gil got drunk and nasty at Dave Buck s tavern, and Dave tossed him after he tried to start a fight with some kid from a rival high school. On the way home Gil started blaming her for his life being shit. He said she was a fat pig, claimed she was holding him back. Knoll shook his head. From what, I could never guess. Then he cracked her on the jaw. There was a bad bruise. We took pictures. He hit her in the eye, too. Then he pushed her out of the car and tried to run her down. Justine ran away, and Gil was too tanked to catch her. When he stopped looking she headed home in the dark. By the time she reached the farm she was hysterical and scared to death. She said that she was certain that Gil would kill her when he came home. Gil s folks were visiting their other son in Connecticut, so she was all alone. She grabbed Gil s rifle and sat on the couch in the front room. Meanwhile Gil had crashed the car. He wasn t hurt, but the car was totaled. Gil got a ride home from Andy Laidlaw, one of his drinking buddies. Andy told me that Gil admitted trying to run down Justine, but he also said that Gil was real remorseful about what he d done. When they got to the farm, Andy offered to go inside with Gil, but Gil sent him off. Andy said that Gil was standing in the front yard when he drove away. How did Gil end up dead? Justine said she heard the car drive in and thought it was Gil s. She didn t know he had wrecked it. When he came through the door, she told him to leave or she would shoot him. He took a step forward, she fired and that was that. How close to town was Justine s parents house? Closer than the farm, but she said that she was so scared after Gil tried to kill her that she just ran back to the farm without thinking. She didn t want her parents to know, anyway. She was ashamed that the marriage wasn t working. Didn t she cool down while she was sitting there with the gun? Didn t have time. When did they leave the bar? About eleven o clock. When did she phone in the nine-one-one? About one. That means there was probably an hour and a half between the time she ran away from her husband and the time she shot him. We knew that, but you have to remember that she ran the four and a half miles from town. It took her close to an hour. During that time, Gil was wrecking the car, going to Andy s house and getting a lift. Justine said that Gil walked in about five to ten minutes after she got home. So you figured the shooting was justifiable? I talked it over with the county prosecutor, and he didn t want to go with it, Knoll said, not answering Herb s question. Justine was a good girl who was stuck with a bad man. Everyone knew it. Everyone knew about the baby, too. There wasn t much sympathy for Gil. The only ones who wanted Justine prosecuted were Gil s parents, but that s to be expected. They claimed that Justine murdered Gil to get the insurance. Cross raised an eyebrow. How much was that? About a hundred thousand dollars, if I recollect correctly. That s a lot of money for a farm girl. That s a lot of money for anyone. Cross watched Knoll carefully when he asked his next question. Did you believe Dr. Castle s story? Knoll never broke eye contact. I never had any reason not to, but then I never pushed much to prove she was lying. It was one of those times when no one wanted me to be much of a detective.