Dead Lawyers Tell No Tales (35 page)

NOW THAT LANDON
had Julia on the stand, he wasn’t really sure what to ask her. He hadn’t even dared tell Elias about Phoenix’s whispered threats. What if Elias said something to the police?

For his part, Elias didn’t want Julia on the stand at all. “Trust me,” Landon had whispered. “I just need to stall for a few minutes.”

Landon started with a few background questions, but after a while he could tell that everybody in the courtroom was getting restless. He was standing facing the witness while keeping one eye on the back door. He kept hoping Kerri would walk through the door at any minute so he could end this charade and call Sean Phoenix to the stand. He also kept glancing at his phone. He had sent Kerri a text after Phoenix threatened him, while Julia was being sworn in—
Where are u?
—but hadn’t received a reply.

Sean Phoenix was still sitting right behind counsel table, focused on Landon like a laser trying to bore holes into Landon’s psyche. For the moment, Landon ignored him.

“Directing your attention to the night before Erica Jensen’s death, Super Bowl Sunday, did you and your husband have an argument?”

“Don’t go there,” he heard Elias whisper. But it was too late.

Julia looked at Landon with wide eyes. She knew about the plan to get Sean Phoenix on the stand, but she obviously had no clue what Landon was trying to do right now.
It’s okay,
he wanted to tell her.
I’m not sure either.

She glanced at Elias, and Landon could sense that there were twenty-six years of marriage wrapped up in the look, a lifetime of being there for each other, of taking care of somebody even when you’ve seen them at their worst. Elias must have nodded or given her some sign of affirmation. When she turned back to Landon, she seemed to relax, a woman resigned to telling the truth.

“Yes.”

“What was the argument about?”

“It was the night I found out about his affair with Erica Jensen.”

The answer set off a stirring in the courtroom as the spectators anticipated what was coming next.

“How did you find out?”

“Through some text messages on his phone. When I confronted him, he admitted it.”

At counsel table, Elias stared at his hands. Pain and regret were written on every wrinkle on his face.

“What did you do when you found out?”

“I screamed at him. I cried. I cursed the day I married him.”

“What did he do?”

Julia hesitated, looking at her guilt-stricken husband. “He apologized and said he was going to break it off with Erica. He said he never meant to hurt me.”

“Did you ever confront Erica Jensen about this?”

For a split second, the room was stilled. Julia swallowed, kept her head high, and looked straight at Landon. “Yes, the next night. I left the house and drove to Erica’s apartment.”

There was a murmur in the audience, and Deegan banged her gavel. “Let’s have it quiet,” she said.

“So that would be Monday night, the night of Erica’s death?”

“Yes.”

“Did you go alone?”

“Yes.”

“To your knowledge, did your husband know you were going?”

“No.”

“Did you talk to Erica Jensen that night?”

“Yes. I told her to stay away from my husband. I told her that I hadn’t worked through twenty-six years of marriage to lose him now. I told her she needed to find another job at another firm and never go near Elias again.”

Landon took another glance at the back door. Still nothing. Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed that Sean Phoenix seemed to relax just a little. Maybe he assumed that Landon had found a new scapegoat in Julia and just wanted Sean to watch so he would release Kerri unharmed.

“Did you threaten her?” Landon asked.

“She apologized. She said it just happened. She said she never meant to break up our family.”

“But did you threaten her?”

“I never had to. She said that she and Elias were through.”

“Did you harm Erica in any way?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Was there any physical confrontation between the two of you?”

“No.”

“Did you slip her any drugs?”

“Of course not.”

“What time did you leave Erica Jensen’s apartment?”

“I don’t really remember. Probably sometime around 9 p.m.”

“Was she alive?”

“Yes, Mr. Reed. She was very much alive.”

JAKE DROVE UP AND DOWN
the rows of the parking lot behind the community center, frantically searching for Mr. Clausen’s BMW. He spotted it near the far corner of the lot just as Clausen was starting to back out.

“There it is,” he said out his window. Billy Thurston was still in the bed of the truck but had scooted up to the front corner on the driver’s side.

“And there’s a man in the backseat,” Jake added.

He sped down the row toward the BMW. Billy was looking through the back window of the cab.

“Ram it!” Billy said.

“What?”

“Ram it!”

Jake braced for impact and nailed the back corner of the BMW with the front of Landon’s truck, pinning the car between the truck and a minivan parked next to the BMW. Only then did he see that Kerri was in the front seat, a gag in her mouth, her hands behind her back.

He held on to both sides of the steering wheel and froze, staring
straight ahead. His arms and legs were trembling, and he thought he might throw up. He glanced to his right and saw the muscular guy they called the Wolfman jump out of the backseat of the BMW, gun in hand, while Mr. Clausen climbed slowly out the front. From his peripheral vision, through the cab’s rear window, Jake could see Billy lying down in the back of the truck, wedged up against the passenger side rail. He had his gun out and his index finger against his lips.

The Wolfman came over to the truck and flung open the passenger door. He cursed Jake, and Jake was certain the man was going to jump into the cab and snap his neck like a twig. He wanted to run, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate.

“Don’t move!” Billy barked out the order from the bed of the truck. The Wolfman and Jake looked at the same time. Billy’s gun was pointed at the Wolfman’s head from about two feet away. “Drop it
now
—because I’d love to blow your brains out.”

Without looking at Billy, the Wolfman dropped his gun.

“Now, kick it away.”

The Wolfman did as instructed.

“Hands on top of your head,” Billy demanded.

Again, the Wolfman complied—slowly, as if looking for an opening.

“Get over here, Clausen!” Billy yelled, swinging the gun toward Parker Clausen. With his hands up, Mr. Clausen walked slowly down the side of the vehicle. Kerri was struggling to get the passenger door open.

“Go get Kerri out,” Billy told Jake. “And dial 911.”

Jake jumped out of the truck at the same time that Billy, keeping his gun trained on the Wolfman, straddled the back rail and then hopped down from the truck bed. He landed awkwardly, the bad knee buckling a little, and the Wolfman took advantage.

He whirled with some kind of judo kick, and the gun went flying out of Billy’s hand. A second kick landed a heel to the side of Billy’s face, connecting with bone, the sound of celery snapping. Billy collapsed to the ground.

Jake was dialing 911 on the opposite side of the truck bed when Billy
went down. He panicked and jumped back in the cab. At the same time, Kerri had managed to wriggle free enough to place her forehead on the car horn, which blared across the parking lot. Mr. Clausen climbed back in the front seat to push her away.

But the noise, just for a moment, distracted the Wolfman, who was bending over to pick up Billy’s gun. Instinctively, Jake threw the truck in reverse and jammed on the gas. The open passenger door nailed the Wolfman, knocking him to the ground within arm’s reach of Billy, who scrambled on top of him.

At close quarters, even somebody as strong as the Wolfman was no match for an angry three-hundred-pound NFL lineman. Billy had been at the bottom of more than a few football piles. He wrenched his gun from the Wolfman’s hand and pistol-whipped him. As the Wolfman tried to squirm free, Jake jumped out of the cab, beating Clausen to the Wolfman’s gun, which the Wolfman had kicked away earlier at Billy’s command. Jake pointed it at Clausen, his hands shaking, and Clausen backed slowly away.

On the ground, Billy now had the Wolfman pinned on his stomach with one arm wrenched behind him. The barrel of Billy’s gun was planted against the base of the Wolfman’s skull. Blood dripped from Billy’s mouth onto the back of the Wolfman’s neck.

Squad cars were coming toward the scene. There were some frightened bystanders hiding behind cars halfway across the parking lot.

“Go ahead and try something,” Billy said to the Wolfman. “Because I’d love to pull the trigger before the cops get here. Even if you don’t, the odds are fifty-fifty that I’ll shoot.”

///

Sherman wasted no time attacking Julia King. He gave her a fake smile, circling like a shark with blood in the water.

“Good morning, Ms. King.”

“Good morning.”

“When you got home from confronting Erica, did you tell your husband where you had been?”

Julia balked at the question and looked like a deer caught in a trap.
Tell the truth,
Landon urged silently, nodding his head.

“I did.”

Sherman did a double take. “You did?”

Julia looked at Elias apologetically, and Elias nodded his encouragement. For the first time, Landon thought that their marriage might still have a chance.

“Yes.”

Sherman had an incredulous look on his face, a dramatic show for the jury. “Did you mention any of this when you were interviewed by the police?”

“No. I did not.”

“Do you understand that it’s a crime to impede an investigation like that?”

Elias nudged Landon, but he was already on his feet. “Objection!”

“Sustained.”

“But you did lie to the police; isn’t that right?”

Elias squirmed in his seat, and Landon hoped the jury wasn’t watching his client. Julia was keeping her cool much better.

“Yes, sir. I did.”

The General strutted a few steps and lowered his voice, creating a little more drama. “Isn’t it true that when you confronted Erica Jensen she told you that it was over between her and your husband?”

“I think I said that already.”

“Of course you did. But isn’t it also true that she told you the reason her relationship with your husband would be ending was that she would be going to the prosecutors the next day?”

“No. That’s not true at all.”

Sherman ignored the answer. “You went home and told Elias about Erica’s scheduled meeting; isn’t that right?”

“No, because I didn’t know about it myself.”

The General scoffed, another little display for the jury. “And you expect the jury to believe you on that point even though you lied to investigators about whether you met with Erica at all?”

“I’m telling the truth,” Julia said. But there was no fight in her voice.

“And for that we have your word; is that right?”

“Yes, sir. You have my word.”

“That’s all I have for this witness.” The General sat down, a little straighter in his seat, and glanced over at the jury with a smug look of satisfaction.

“CALL YOUR NEXT WITNESS,”
Judge Deegan said.

Landon felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Detective Freeman, standing right in front of Sean Phoenix. She whispered in Landon’s ear. “We’ve got Kerri. She’s going to be fine.”

He felt the emotions explode inside him—gratefulness, relief, a renewed determination to exact justice. But he didn’t let it register in his expression. There was still plenty of work to be done.

“One second, Judge,” Landon said. Then to Freeman, “You’re sure?”

She nodded and handed him a piece of paper.

Landon turned back to the court and stood to his full height. “The defense calls Sean Phoenix.”

Phoenix rose slowly, gathered himself, and stopped next to Landon on his way to being sworn in. “You and Kerri are both going to regret this,” he hissed.

“I think she’s going to rather enjoy it,” Landon said, motioning over his shoulder.

Even Sean Phoenix, the world’s master at keeping his composure, could not prevent a flicker of surprise from crossing his face when he saw Kerri leaning against the back wall of the courtroom, arms crossed. She raised her index finger in a subtle wave, which Phoenix did not acknowledge. He walked to the well of the courtroom and took the oath.

Landon didn’t need notes for this one. He spent ten minutes going over Phoenix’s background—his role as CEO of Cipher Inc., his former work with the CIA, his background in espionage and counterintelligence.

“When you worked for the CIA, did there come a time when your identity was compromised and you were held prisoner in Syria?”

“Yes. That’s well documented.”

“Prior to that capture and interrogation, were you intimate with a Syrian woman named Fatinah Najar who worked as an undercover CIA operative in Syria?”

Landon could see the storm on Phoenix’s face, the flash in his eyes as he shot Kerri a look, but he didn’t bite on the question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Isn’t it true that Fatinah Najar was arrested along with you, placed in a cell next to yours, and tortured by Syrian officials?”

Franklin Sherman pushed back his chair, a noisy display, and stood. “Am I in the wrong trial?” he asked. “What does this have to do with the murder of Erica Jensen?”

Landon turned to the judge. “If the court will bear with me a few minutes, it will be quite obvious.”

“Let’s link it up quickly,” Deegan ruled.

Landon turned back to the witness. “The CIA negotiated your release but did nothing to protect your lover, Fatinah Najar; isn’t that correct?”

Phoenix snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time on the Internet reading gossip sites. No, that’s not true.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about a few things we can agree on. Isn’t it true that Cipher Inc. has been sued more than a dozen times?”

“Yes. All of them without merit.”

“But you settled a couple of those cases; isn’t that right?”

“When lawyers like you sue us, even if the case has no merit, it’s sometimes cheaper to settle than it is to pay legal fees to defend.”

“And you detest those types of lawsuits; isn’t that right?”

Landon hoped that Phoenix would try to deny it. He had the tape from Kerri’s first interview ready to roll.

“Lawsuits are the American way.”

Phoenix was smart. It wasn’t a firm denial, but it wasn’t an admission either. “In addition to these civil suits, you and Cipher Inc. have also been prosecuted criminally; isn’t that true?”

“Your client tried to prosecute us for the alleged killing of a dictator in Sudan, a man who slaughtered thousands of innocent women and children. We were found not guilty.”

“John McBride, a plaintiff’s lawyer from Texas who’s under investigation for insider trading, sued you twice, didn’t he?”

Sean Phoenix hesitated, and Landon went to his counsel table. Elias handed him the suit papers.

“Yes,” Phoenix said.

“And you settled both cases, correct?”

“As I said, it was cheaper than going to trial.”

“Have you ever heard of a federal judge named Rodney Zimmerman?”

Phoenix pondered it for a moment. “That name does not ring a bell.”

“Let me see if I can refresh your memory. Judge Zimmerman served as one of the top lawyers at the CIA when the director made the call to disavow Fatinah Najar—your lover—a woman who was ultimately tortured and killed by her Syrian captors. Does that help place the name?”

“Actually, Counsel, it does not.”

“Did you know that Judge Zimmerman is also under investigation for insider trading because he allegedly received funds from an account allegedly set up by John McBride?”

“That’s a lot of ‘allegedlies,’ Counselor. Regardless, it’s all news to me.”

Sherman stood for a second time. “You’ve given him a lot of rope, Judge, and I still don’t see how this connects.”

Instead of arguing the objection, Landon just fired his next question. “Are you telling us that it’s just coincidental, Mr. Phoenix, that all three men recently indicted for insider trading—Judge Zimmerman, John McBride, and Elias King—just happened to be enemies of you and your company?”

“Judge,” Sherman pleaded, “this is just rank speculation.”

Judge Deegan leaned forward. “Objection overruled,” she said. “I’d be interested in Mr. Phoenix’s answer.”

“Neither I nor my company have anything to do with the charges against these men.”

“Did you know, Mr. Phoenix, that new legal assistants for all three of these men started work within six months of each other?”

“Why would I know that?”

“Because Cipher Inc. placed them there. Because they were all operatives of Cipher Inc., including Erica Jensen. Isn’t that right?”

“You really ought to join your partner in writing legal thrillers, Counselor, because you’ve got quite the imagination.”

“Speaking of my partner—isn’t it true that Parker Clausen also works for you?”

Phoenix raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know where you’re getting this stuff.”

“Do you deny it?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Erica Jensen was one of your operatives; isn’t that true?”

Sean Phoenix crossed his legs and relaxed a little. They were falling into a rhythm. “No. It’s another lie.”

“But she fell in love with Elias King, became pregnant, and decided to go to the authorities and tell them the truth—that Cipher Inc. was paying her to frame Elias King for insider trading. When you found out, you had her killed. Isn’t that what happened?”

Franklin Sherman stood. He sighed dramatically and held out his arms. “I know he’s new at this, Judge, but that’s not even a question. It’s a speech.”

“I’ve heard better questions,” Judge Deegan agreed. “But I’ll allow the witness to answer.”

Sean Phoenix stared at Landon for a moment before answering. The look promised revenge, the same kind of revenge he had exacted on everyone else who had crossed him. “That’s a lie,” he said calmly. “A dangerous lie.”

“Why is it dangerous?” Landon asked.

“Because it could mislead the jury into thinking that your client is not a cold-blooded murderer,” Sean Phoenix said.

But both men knew what he really meant.

“You value loyalty in your company, don’t you?”

“Of course. Every company does.”

“And when a Cipher Inc. operative goes to the Feds and offers to testify against the company, it can cause all kinds of problems, can’t it?”

Landon watched closely as Sean Phoenix calculated his answer. If he denied it, Landon would ask detailed questions about the murder trial for the killing of Ahmed Al-Latif, a trial that resulted from a Cipher operative turning against the company. But if Phoenix admitted it, he would be playing into Landon’s theory of the case.

Phoenix shrugged, though his eyes fired darts at Landon. “If you say so, Counselor.”