The Associate (14 page)

Amanda’s words had a sobering effect. Life in prison or execution. What was happening to him?

“Before coming here, I talked to Mike Greene, the prosecutor who’s handling your case. He claims to have a witness who saw you running from the crime scene. She also says that she heard you have an angry argument with Arthur Briggs on Friday.”

“Who’s the witness?”

“Dr. April Fairweather.”

“Fairweather! Are you kidding?”

“You know her?”

“She’s a Reed, Briggs client, but she had nothing to do with the Insufort litigation.”

“The lawsuit involving the pregnancy pill? What’s that got to do with Arthur Briggs’s murder?”

“That’s why I was at the cottage. Briggs left a message on my answering machine telling me there was a new development in the case. He said he needed my help, which surprised the hell out of me since he’d just fired me for screwing up the case.”

“I’m not following this. Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

Daniel explained the Geller Pharmaceuticals case, the discovery of Dr. Sergey Kaidanov’s letter, his search of Kaidanov’s house, the discovery of the murdered man at the lab, and the leak of the study to the press. Then he told Amanda about being fired, his argument with Briggs, and what happened at the cottage.

“Now I know how the police figured out that I was there so fast,” Daniel concluded. “Dr. Fairweather was in Mr. Briggs’s waiting area when he fired me. She saw us argue. What I can’t figure out is what she was doing at the cottage. Her case had nothing to do with the Geller case. It doesn’t make sense that Briggs would have wanted her there if he was going to talk about Insufort.”

Amanda was quiet for a moment. Daniel thought that she looked worried and he began to get nervous. Then she brightened and Daniel leaned forward expectantly.

“You have a motive to murder Briggs because Briggs fired you and threatened you, but the message on your answering machine shows that he changed his opinion about you for some reason. There’s a chance I might be able to persuade Mike to hold off on an indictment if he hears the tape.”

Daniel’s face fell. “I erased it.”

“What?”

“I panicked and I erased the answering machine tape just before the police came. It was proof that I was at Starlight Road when the murder occurred.”

Amanda failed to conceal her disappointment and Daniel knew he’d screwed up.

“How long do I have to stay in jail?” he asked nervously.

“You’re not going to get out quickly. Bail isn’t automatic in a murder charge. I have to ask for a bail hearing and they’re hard to win. If you had to stay in jail for a week or more, do you think you could handle it?”

Daniel felt sick, but he nodded.

“I’ve been in jail before.”

Amanda tensed. “Tell me about that.”

Daniel looked down at the tabletop. “My . . . my home life wasn’t good. When I was a kid I ran away a lot.” He shrugged. “When you’re living on the streets there are a lot of opportunities to get in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble were you in?”

“Burglary, assault. The cases never stuck, but I was arrested twice and I stayed in jail both times.”

Daniel told her the approximate dates of his arrests and Amanda made some notes on her pad. Then she asked him several other background questions. When she was finished, she put her pad in her attaché case.

“I’m going back to my office to meet with my investigator. You’ll make your first appearance in court at two this afternoon and I’ll be there. This appearance will be over quickly. The judge will read the formal charges against you and make sure you have counsel. I’ll ask him to set a date for a bail hearing and we’ll request a preliminary hearing. Then we’ll go from there. Do you have any questions?”

“No, not now. I’m too numb.”

“I don’t blame you. If I were in your position I’d be scared to death. But you have one thing going for you that gives me hope.” Daniel looked up expectantly. “You’ve told me you’re innocent and I do believe that the truth will come out.”

Daniel should have found Amanda’s words reassuring, but he remembered an editorial about the death penalty he had read recently. It had called for a moratorium on executions because of all the innocent people who were languishing on death row.

Kate Ross was waiting in the public reception area. She stood up the moment Amanda got out of the jail elevator.

“How is Daniel?” she asked anxiously.

“He’s holding up okay. I get the impression that he’s pretty tough. If I can’t get him out on bail before the trial I don’t think being in jail will break him.”

“Will you be able to get him out?”

“I don’t know, Kate. Mike Greene told me a little about the state’s case. It’s not airtight, but it’s strong.”

“What have they got?”

“Briggs fired Daniel and they argued in front of witnesses, so Daniel had a reason to shoot Briggs. They haven’t recovered the murder weapon and they didn’t find it when they searched Daniel’s apartment, but Mike Greene will just argue that he threw the gun away. The really bad news is that an eyewitness saw Daniel running from the scene of the murder.”

“Who is it? Give me the name. If there’s evidence that the witness is lying, I’ll find it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to work on Daniel’s case.”

“Why not?”

“Conflict of interest. The eyewitness is Dr. April Fairweather, a Reed, Briggs client.”

Kate’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding?”

“Daniel had the same reaction. She was supposed to meet with Briggs at eight-fifteen at the cottage where he was killed. She says she saw Daniel run out and drive away.”

“You can’t take Fairweather’s word for anything, Amanda. She’s—” Kate stopped suddenly. “Damn.”

“What?”

“You’re right. There is a conflict.”

“Do you know something about Dr. Fairweather that I should know?”

Kate nodded. “But I can’t talk about it. I learned it while working on her case. All I can tell you to do is dig deep.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry, Amanda. I’ll have to talk to one of the partners before I can say anything. I suspect the partner is going to tell me that Fairweather will have to give her okay before I can talk to you, and I doubt she’ll do it.”

“Daniel will understand why you can’t get involved. He knows you’re helping him with expenses and he’s very grateful.”

“I wish there was something else I could do.”

“Well, there isn’t, for now, but don’t worry. Herb Cross will conduct the investigation, and you know how good he is. If you want to show your support, be in court at two for Daniel’s arraignment.”

“I plan to be.”

The offices of Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi, one of Oregon’s premier law firms, took up the eighth floor of the Stockman Building in downtown Portland. Amanda’s father, Frank Jaffe, and two law-school classmates had started their practice as soon as they passed the bar. Amanda had joined the firm six years ago after graduating with honors from New York University School of Law and serving a two-year clerkship at the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. As a reward for solving the Cardoni serial murder case, the firm’s members had voted to make her a partner. Six months ago she had moved from one of the small offices used by the associates to a larger office with a view of the West Hills. Amanda had decorated her new office with two abstracts she’d purchased at a gallery near her condominium in the Pearl District and several photographs of Broadway that had been taken shortly after the First World War around the time that the Stockman Building had been constructed.

As soon as she returned from her meeting with Daniel, Amanda started making notes about her new client. She liked Daniel and she hoped that he was innocent, but she had been practicing criminal law long enough to know that you never took your client’s word for anything, no matter how sincere they seemed. Daniel had a strong motive to murder his ex-boss, he had admitted being at the scene of the crime, and he had destroyed the answering-machine tape—the evidence that Daniel claimed would have proved his relationship with Arthur Briggs had changed.

Amanda leaned back and tapped her pen against her palm. What did Kate know that would help her cast doubt on the eyewitness identification made by April Fairweather? What difference would impeachment evidence make, anyway? Daniel was at the cottage. He’d told her so. That meant that Daniel could not testify, because he would have to admit that Fairweather had seen him. She sighed. This was not going to be easy. She was going to have to work very hard and be very lucky if she was going to keep Daniel Ames off of death row.

At Daniel’s arraignment, Amanda Jaffe asked for a bail hearing and the judge set it for Friday. Daniel made a plan for getting through the week. It involved staying in his cell as much as possible and being as inconspicuous as possible when he was in the presence of other prisoners.

Every morning at ten o’clock the guards unlocked the bottom tier of cells and let the prisoners watch television, talk, and walk around in the glassed-in recreation area. This was the most frightening time for Daniel. He had found a corner of the room from which the television was not visible and he had stayed there until it was time to return to his cell. On Thursday morning Daniel made for his corner only to find a wiry white man with a shaved head and swastika tattoo on his muscled biceps headed the same way. Daniel tried to avoid him, but he did not move fast enough and they collided. Daniel’s stomach clenched.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

The man glared. When Daniel did not look away fast enough, he moved close to him.

“What are you lookin’ at, pussy?”

“Nothing,” Daniel answered, praying that he could avoid a fight.

“You sayin’ I’m nothing?”

Daniel had been a civilized human being for many years, but the next second he was back on the street, he was fifteen, and he was listening to George, an ex-con who had been kind to him until Daniel rebuffed his sexual advances with a broken bottle. George had tried to seduce Daniel with tales of life in the Joint that had been filled with survival tips. The tips had come in handy on the other occasions he’d spent time in jail and Daniel flashed on them now.

“I . . . I said I’m sorry,” Daniel apologized again in a voice intentionally meek and subservient. The prisoner took a step forward.

“That ain’t good enough,” he was saying when Daniel stomped hard on his foot. When the inmate bent forward reflexively Daniel snapped a hard elbow into his face. Blood sprayed from the man’s nose. Before he could get his bearings Daniel struck him again, this time in the throat. The inmate went down hard and his head made a hollow sound as it bounced off the concrete floor.

Daniel turned to see if anyone else was going to come for him. Most of the inmates gave the fallen man and his assailant a wide berth, but two prisoners with shaved heads started across the room. One man was slightly shorter than Daniel and had a weight lifter’s build. His biceps expanded and contracted as he flexed his fists. The other man was tall and flabby, but he had pit bull eyes and huge hands.

Daniel knew there was no way he could take out two men, but he was poised to go at the weight lifter when the skinheads stopped abruptly. That’s when Daniel noticed the four Hispanics who stood beside him. One was his cellmate.

“Whas up, bro?” Pedro asked the weight lifter.

“Get out of the way, monkey,” he answered.

Pedro smiled, but he did not move. The weight lifter started forward.

“Break it up,” a guard shouted from the door to the rec room. Three guards armed with truncheons backed him up.

“We ain’t through with you, fucker,” the fat skinhead said to Daniel, spitting on the floor between them. Then he touched the weight lifter on the arm and the two men backed into the crowd.

One of the guards knelt to check the unconscious man, who was covered with blood from his broken nose.

“Who did this?” he demanded. No one answered.

“All right, that’s it. No more rec time. Get back in your cells.”

The room cleared quickly.

“Thanks, man,” Daniel said when he and Pedro were locked up. “I’d have been dead if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Pedro shrugged. “I don’ like those skinhead motherfuckers.”

“Well, it’s appreciated.”

Pedro smiled. “I didn’ figure you for no fighter, but you clocked that Nazi good.”

“Lucky punch.”

Pedro’s smile widened. “Sucker punch.”

They both laughed. Then Pedro’s smile fell away abruptly and he wagged a warning finger at Daniel.

“You watch your back. Those are bad people. They gonna hurt you if they get the chance.”

Daniel nodded. Then he climbed onto his upper bunk. As soon as he was certain that Pedro could not see him, he let go of his self-control and started to shake.

Herb Cross, a slender African-American in his late thirties, led Amanda Jaffe up a narrow stairway to the second-floor office of Dr. April Fairweather. Fairweather worked over a hardware store in a low-rent building on Stark. The stairwell was dingy and poorly lit, as was the hall in front of the doctor’s office.

Herb had briefed Amanda on what little he had discovered about the therapist during the ride from their law office. Fairweather did not have a criminal record. She had a single credit card and never let the charges get too high. Fairweather advertised herself as a consulting therapist and claimed to have a doctorate, but she was not licensed by any state agency. Then again she didn’t have to be to practice her kind of New Age therapy. Fairweather lived in a cheap garden apartment in Beaverton, and Herb had talked to a few of her neighbors, but all he’d learned was that she never said more than an occasional hello.

The investigator opened a wooden door with a frosted-glass window. On the other side was a small reception room. As Amanda closed the door, a short, mousy woman in a frayed gray business suit walked out of the interior office. Amanda noticed that Dr. Fairweather had not done much with her light brown hair. She didn’t see any jewelry, either. The lawyer concluded that the psychologist was not someone who gave a lot of thought to her looks.