The Local, page 10
“The killer stopped,” Layla answered.
“That’s what I think, too. But for what purpose?” asked the Leg.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Neither do I,” said the Leg, “but I have a guess. I think the killer attacked the victim back there, fled in a panic in this direction, and then stopped, got into his own car, and drove away.”
I scanned the parking lot, trying to envision the scenario the Leg had just laid out.
“Is there any blood beyond this point?” I asked, thinking that even the slightest trace outside of the parking lot would shatter her theory.
“I couldn’t find a single drop,” she said.
“So the killer’s car was parked right here the night of the murder,” I said, allowing the information to settle.
“The night of the murder, also the night of the Christmas party,” the Leg added.
“Can you get a list of everyone who was at the party that night?” I asked.
“Are you offering me the job?”
* * *
—
Since the Compound was still sealed, I’d decided to host our first official team meeting at my place that night. I chain-smoked two cigarettes and took a last-minute shower before Layla and Lisa arrived. I had to rush to get my clothes on when I heard a knock on my door.
“Right on time,” I said as I welcomed them in from the cold December air. Lisa had picked Layla up at the Fairfield, so they arrived together.
“I don’t know what kind of meeting you’re running here, so I brought Red Bull and beer,” the Leg said, as she headed straight for the living room and kitchen, which weren’t separated by any kind of wall.
“Hi,” I said to Layla.
“Jesus Christ, Euchre!” Lisa said from the other room.
The Leg had begun a self-guided tour. Layla and I joined her in the living room.
“Did this place come fully furnished?” she questioned.
“No?” I said, not understanding why she would ask that.
“It’s pretty girly, don’t you think?”
I hadn’t looked at my habitat through anyone else’s eyes in a long time. I had purchased the house, a three-bedroom on the outskirts of town, soon after my patent practice had taken off. I had to stretch my budget at the time, but I wanted a place I could grow into. It proved to be well within my price range as my career blossomed. I never did need all the space though.
“I was expecting matching leather couches and a TV the size of a horse.” The Leg continued her critique, calling out items that supported her original hypothesis. “But you’ve got throw pillows that match accent pieces in every room. An antique apothecary table. Shelves lined with ornaments you probably never use. You have a painting of a bottle of perfume?”
“It’s Parisian,” I said defensively.
“Oh, it’s Parisian,” she said.
As the Leg moved to the fridge, I saw Layla looking around at my belongings as well. The Leg had made me feel embarrassed, but with Layla, I felt exposed.
“It just looks like it was done with a woman’s touch. It’s a compliment,” Layla said.
We convened near the fridge where the Leg was putting drinks inside to keep them cold. “We doing caffeine or booze?”
“I’ve got a pizza on the way,” I said.
“Booze it is.” She removed three cans of beer from a twelve-pack.
“Natty Ice? Really?” I said.
“I’m a girl on a budget,” the Leg replied.
“Spring for the Miller Lite next time. You can expense it.”
We took our beers to the living room, where I found myself preoccupied with the excessive number of pillows on my sofa and chairs.
* * *
—
“I’ve reviewed the police report,” I began. “Amir stepped outside to smoke some weed, locked himself out, and then broke a window in the rear of the house to get back in. This triggered a glass-break alarm inside the house that alerted Texas Warning and Alarm Systems, the security company that monitors the Compound. They called the police department, which dispatched a squad car. Two officers arrived on scene, found Amir inside the Compound, and, believing this to be a break-in, drew their weapons. They ordered him to the ground, handcuffed him, and called for backup. Three more squad cars arrived.”
“Because it’s Marshall and nothing exciting ever happens here,” added the Leg.
“So while Jefferson and Ramirez, the original responding officers, continued to interrogate Amir about what he was doing on the premises, the second team went through the house looking for signs of burglary, while the third team broadened the search, presumably looking for an accomplice or Amir’s car. What they discovered was the body of Judge Gardner in the parking lot, and thus a potential B&E turned into a homicide.”
I took a sip of my Natty Ice and then placed it back on the mantel above the fireplace.
“They found his body at 3:00 a.m. As it turns out, I was the last person to see Judge Gardner alive. That was at 10:35 p.m., as he entered his courthouse. So that’s our time-of-death range, but we should be able to narrow it down.”
“I was hoping surveillance footage in the federal courthouse would allow us to pinpoint when the judge finally left his office for the night,” said the Leg, “but, unfortunately, the cameras only cover the public entrance. Judge Gardner used his private one, so there’s nothing of him coming or going.”
“Maybe the guards saw something,” I suggested.
“Nope. I spoke to both guards on duty that night. They said it was common for Gardner to work late. He’d come and go at all hours, but they didn’t remember seeing him the night he was killed. I’ll keep poking around though.”
“All right,” I said. “My guess is he was killed in the early hours of the morning, closer to three o’clock. The parking lot was packed that night because of the Christmas party. If the murder happened, say, before midnight, I’d expect someone from the party would have stumbled upon his body on the way to their car.”
“I’ll get that list of everyone who was at the party and start compiling a timeline of people’s movements,” the Leg said as she scratched some notes to herself on a pad that fit inside her palm.
“With Christmas being next week, people may start leaving town soon, so work as quickly as you can.”
“What about the blood and DNA analysis?” Layla asked. Her prosecutorial background was sure to stress-test our case before it ever got to court.
“Still waiting on the results,” I said. “Does it seem like it’s taking an extraordinarily long time?”
“Not necessarily,” Layla replied. “It’s not an overnight process. Depending on how busy the FBI’s lab is in Dallas, it could easily take weeks.”
“All right, we’ll set that aside for the moment. Hopefully the blood found on Amir won’t be a match to Gardner’s, and that will make it much easier to lay out our set of facts. The way I see it, we’ve got two strategies, and we may argue both of them simultaneously. The first is reasonable doubt. The prosecution’s case is flimsy in a couple places, starting with motive.”
“Amir’s anger at Judge Gardner was on full display in open court only hours earlier,” Layla replied, making the prosecution’s counterargument.
“Every person on the wrong side of a judge’s ruling has the same motive. It’s there, but it’s weak. Beyond that, there is no murder weapon. In fact, there is no physical evidence at all tying Amir to the crime.”
“Yet,” said the Leg.
“Right. So we’ll push the reasonable doubt angle if it comes to that, but right now I want to focus our investigation on the second strategy: some other dude did it.”
“Our client insists he’s innocent, thus, if he is to be believed…” Layla’s thought trailed off, so the Leg picked it up.
“We’ve got a murderer on the loose.”
“Easy, Columbo. Let’s take it one step at a time. Start with the people at the party. Conduct an interview with everyone who’ll speak to you. I want to know who was there, when they departed, who spoke with Judge Gardner, and whose behavior was at all out of the ordinary.”
“Abe would also like us to flag any mistakes the police may have made,” Layla said.
“Does Abe think we need to be told to do that?” I asked, unsure of how Layla’s boss had entered this conversation.
“It’s safe to assume the police investigation was executed under the immediate presumption that Amir had to have been the culprit,” said Layla. “Their approach was flawed from the start.”
Any civil rights violations by the Marshall Police Department would ultimately leave it open to a police misconduct lawsuit. That litigation, however, would only be possible if Amir were acquitted in criminal court first. There was no question in my mind that Amir had already broached this topic with Abe and that Abe would acquiesce to his client’s demand to seek retribution against the people who had arrested him. But with Layla’s comment, I realized Amir was focused on the wrong battle at the moment.
“Tell Abe we’ll keep him apprised of any issues we come across,” I said.
“He also mentioned he’s receiving a lot of interview requests from outlets all over the country,” Layla added. “What would you like to do about those?”
“What do you think we should do?” I asked.
“Most defense lawyers crave publicity,” she said.
“I’m a patent lawyer.”
In Marshall, Texas, publicity usually meant prying questions from unwelcome strangers. All of us in the Eastern District had grown accustomed to the occasional out-of-town reporter coming to investigate the tiny town that hosted an inexplicably large number of patent infringement lawsuits. No one ever gave an interview.
“I could have Gordon & Greene handle all media,” Layla suggested.
“That’s fine by me,” I said.
The Leg walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer for herself and one for me, which she tossed across the room.
“The police started with the assumption that Amir was guilty. The only way we’re going to win is if we successfully point the finger at someone else,” I said.
“Unless we avoid trial altogether,” the Leg said as she opened her new beverage.
“And how do you plan to swing that?” I asked.
“By finding the real killer,” she said with so much confidence I almost believed she would do it.
· Twelve ·
After winning my last case, I hadn’t expected to return my attention to patent law until late January. When Judge Gardner was killed, I’d put EDTX even further into the recesses of my mind. So I was surprised when Judge Knox, the magistrate judge who had served under Gardner for years, summoned me to his office in the basement of the federal courthouse before December had come to an end. I stared at Tammy Tex, Knox’s assistant, as she went about her work. She wore a denim shirt that looked like a repurposed Texas flag. She avoided eye contact, and I assumed it was because there was no way to make small talk with the cloud of Gardner’s death hanging so heavily in the building. It may have been the first time she hadn’t been in a chipper mood in her whole life.
“Tammy, my investigator should be contacting you today regarding the invitation list to the Christmas party—”
“The little girl with blue hair? She stopped by earlier this morning and picked it up.”
I nodded. The Leg didn’t need to do that in person, but I suspected she made a habit of interacting with as many people as she could. She might need to return to sources for more information later, so it was good practice to foster those relationships.
Judge Knox didn’t keep me waiting very long. He appeared in the doorway and invited me to join him in his office. I had seen him at the funeral, but we hadn’t had the opportunity to speak. I was genuinely curious about the purpose of this meeting.
“Thank for you seeing me today, James.”
“Of course, Your Honor.”
“I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours making calls to firms across the country, and I wanted to meet with all the locals in person to discuss the court’s calendar.”
“I’ve talked with all the firms I’m currently working with,” I said. “I told them I suspected we’d get a continuance on all cases in the Eastern District.”
“As a matter of fact, I plan to adhere to the schedule Judge Gardner set. Patent trials will be held on their allotted dates.”
It was common practice for Judge Knox to sit in for Judge Gardner from time to time. Gardner even lent his bench to Knox when he wasn’t using it so that Knox wouldn’t have to conduct all of his proceedings from his much smaller courtroom downstairs. But taking over the entire calendar seemed like an unnecessarily speedy solution to something that wasn’t a pressing problem.
“What’s the rush?” I asked.
“Part of Judge Gardner’s legacy is the deftness with which he managed a large caseload. The burden falls on all of us now to live up to his standards.”
“I appreciate that, but I just thought we would hit pause until his replacement had been appointed.”
“It could be months before the president nominates someone. And who knows how long it might take the Senate to hold a hearing and confirm? If we put a halt to all of our cases, we’ll be backlogged for years. And worse, parties will start finding other venues in which to file patent suits. The Eastern District may never recover.”
What Knox said made a lot of sense. I didn’t want to be argumentative, but this development complicated my life and threatened to eat into a big chunk of my expected earnings for the next year. My entire focus needed to be on Amir’s criminal case.
“Judge, given that I’m involved in a murder trial, if I can get the parties in my patent cases to agree to postponements, would you be willing to push those trials until after my other work has concluded?”
“I’m afraid not, James. I sympathize with the situation you’re in, but if I make an exception for you, every other lawyer before me is going to ask for leniency. If you can’t perform your duties in these upcoming trials, I suggest you reach out to the respective law firms and let them know they need to secure new local representation.”
I wanted to protest, but it wouldn’t help. Judge Knox was intent on captaining this ship, and it was best that I not rock the boat.
“I understand, Your Honor.”
* * *
—
There was a playful knock on my front door. I opened it, and the Leg continued to tap a melodic beat. “Hello,” she said as she entered.
I saw Layla out by the car, on her phone. She spotted me in the doorway and motioned that she’d join us in a minute.
I closed the door and entered the main room. The Leg handed me a bottle of Miller Lite and cracked open one for herself as she plopped down on the couch.
“I went to see Judge Knox today,” I said. “His assistant mentioned you stopped by.”
“That woman is a trip,” said the Leg. “Small-town Texas at its finest. Makes me miss living in a city.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Why’d you move back here anyway?” I asked with the bite that can only come from one Marshall resident to another.
“My life turned into a Marty Robbins song.” The Leg lowered her voice and sang: “ ‘Out in the West Texas town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican girl.’ ”
“Got your heart broken, huh?” I asked.
“Into a million pieces. I needed a change of scenery, somewhere I wouldn’t think about her all the time.”
“Did it help?”
“Not even a little,” she said with a smile so big it had to be concealing a great deal of pain.
I lifted my bottle of beer toward hers. “To heartbreakers.”
“God love ’em,” she said.
Layla entered through the front door and then stopped, as if she was worried she should have knocked first.
“Come on in,” I said.
“Sorry, that was an assistant in the DA’s office.”
“What’d they want?”
“I had requested a copy of the blood and DNA analysis. I spoke with a lab technician in Dallas this morning who said they completed their work two days ago. I think that’s more than enough of a head start for the district attorney.”
“We’re going to have to anticipate that his office will be less than forthcoming whenever possible. What’d they say?” I asked.
“They claimed they only received the analysis today. They said they were reviewing it and preparing to forward it to us right when I called.”
“That sounds like bullshit,” I said. “Did you get it?”
“Should be emailed to us momentarily.”
“What about our independent analysis?” I asked.
“I’ve already sent the materials to an expert here in Marshall,” Layla said. “She should have something for us soon as well.”
“Excellent. Now then,” I said, unofficially calling the meeting to order, “I met with the magistrate judge today regarding some upcoming patent cases. Obviously, the lawsuit against Medallion, Amir’s company, will be postponed. However, that is the only trial Judge Knox is willing to delay. He intends to keep Judge Gardner’s docket intact. This means I will have to transfer all of my clients to other lawyers. But this brings me to another thought I had today about our case. Cui bono? Who benefits from Judge Gardner’s death? What cases were coming down the pike in Gardner’s courtroom that will now be held in Knox’s? Let’s take a look at the docket for any upcoming cases with parties who would have had a strong preference for Judge Knox over Judge Gardner. Maybe someone who has prevailed before the former and lost before the latter. Is there any party that would have reason to believe they would benefit from moving their case out of Judge Gardner’s court?”
