Ca$h Call, page 28
"I hope so. I just wish we could find someone who saw them together plotting."
"Fat chance," Paula said. "They could have met anyplace. A bar, a restaurant, or even the public library. Who knows?"
"Well, if we can’t prove they met before the murder, maybe we can get them together now."
"What do you mean?"
"I’ve got an idea. We’ll need Luther’s old boss, Mr. Walsh to help us."
"What are you talking about?"
I explained my plan to Paula. She thought it was worth a shot so we contacted Walsh. He reluctantly agreed if it would help find out who really killed Luther. Since we had to be in court at nine the next morning we had to work fast. I called a client, Monty Dozier, a security guard I had done some work for. He owed me money so I asked him to help us out and said I’d credit his time towards his bill. He agreed, so I asked him to follow Margie and instructed him to take pictures if we were able to get Margie and Laura Bell together. Paula and I briefed Walsh on our plan and gave him a tape recorder and a transmitter to put in his coat pocket. With this setup we could hear and record any conversations between Walsh and Laura Bell.
Thick dark thunderclouds hung overhead as Walsh drove up to Margie’s house. It had been raining all day but now a ray of sunlight was shining through a momentary crack in the clouds. Half of a rainbow could be seen in the distance. I wondered if we would find the pot of gold today or just get another drenching from Mother Nature. Walsh got into his car and drove to Laura Bell's apartment. He parked in front, went upstairs and knocked on the door. The door opened quickly. We made ourselves comfortable in Paula’s Camry which we’d parked down the street out of sight.
"Hello," Laura Bell said.
"Hi, I'm Clifford Walsh, Mid-America Life Insurance Company."
"Yes, please come in."
"How are you today?" he said.
"As good as can be expected, you know . . . under the circumstances."
"Yes, it's always difficult when you lose someone you care for."
"Well, Luther and I were getting a divorce, but he was the father of our child, Betsy. We'll miss him."
"At least he had sense enough to buy an adequate amount of insurance to take care of you and little Betsy."
Laura began to weep and said, "Yes, he really loved Betsy and I think he still loved me. He didn't want the divorce. It was me, it was my doing."
"Huh," Walsh said as he pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it to Laura. "Well, here's a cashier’s check for $50,000. This was the group term policy. The supplemental life policy proceeds should be here in a few more days."
"Oh, all right. I sure appreciate you taking the time to fill out the application for me and coming out to my place to bring me this check. I would have got around to it myself eventually, but—"
"It's no problem. You know at Mid-America we believe good service is important, particularly in time of tragedy like the loss of a loved one."
"Well, thanks again."
Walsh stepped outside. He shook Laura's hand and then walked to his car. He got in and drove off. Paula and I waited and watched down the street. Betsy came out of her house five minutes later, got into her car, and drove off. We quickly began to follow her at a safe distance. She drove for awhile and then turned into a branch of Republic Bank. Getting out of her car, she looked around as if concerned about someone tailing her. Not seeing us, she went into the bank. We waited outside.
Laura left the bank ten minutes later, got back into her car and drove to the Granada Theater. She parked in the theater parking lot, bought a ticket and then went inside. Paula and I got out of the car and walked into the theater. Our private investigator was already in the lobby. He told us Margie had gotten there a few minutes earlier and went into the lobby. We watched Laura Bell enter the theater. She made her way to the right aisle door, opened it and went inside. She hesitated a moment apparently waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then she walked down the aisle, found Margie Mason and sat down. We sat a few rows behind them and the detective took a seat near the door.
"Hi," Margie whispered.
"Hello," Laura replied.
"You got the package?"
"Uh huh, no problem."
"Good, I really need it. I'm totally broke."
Laura pulled an envelope out of her purse, handed it to Margie and said, "Mr. Walsh said he'd have the rest in a few days."
"Good."
Suddenly there was a flash of light, then another and another. Margie and Laura Bell jumped up and bolted for the exit but not before the private detective got a couple good shots of them leaving.
Before we went home, we asked the private detective to keep an eye on Laura Bell until we could put her on the stand later in the week. If she really had conspired with Margie to kill Luther, she might just think about running. We couldn’t let that happen now that she was critical to Jim’s defense.
On Thursday the prosecution called Jim and Pam Blaylock to explain to the jury Jim’s motive for allegedly killing Luther. Thornton artfully led them through all of the pain and tragedy of the Golden Dragon Partnership. He even had Pam in tears a couple of times recalling Luther’s dirty tricks. I didn’t do much on cross as Jim’s motive was clear, and denying it would have looked foolish. At noon on Friday, Thornton finished putting on his case.
I thought the judge would recess the case until Monday, but he didn’t. He told us to proceed. We called our private detective. Paula took him on direct exam.
"Please state your name?"
"Monty Dozier," he said.
"Mr. Dozier. Did you have an occasion to—"
"Objection, Your Honor. This witness is not on the witness list."
"Your honor," Paula said. "Mr. Dozier is a rebuttal witness. He was just retained a few days ago. His testimony will establish a relationship between Margie Mason and Laura Bell."
The gallery stirred. Thornton glared at Paula.
"All right," the judge said. "Objection overruled. Proceed."
"How are you employed, Mr. Dozier?" Paula asked.
"I’m a private detective."
"And were you hired to follow Margie Mason on Wednesday night?"
"Yes, I was."
"And did she go anywhere that night?’
"Yes, she went to the Granada Theater."
"Did she meet anyone there?"
"Yes, she met Laura Bell."
The crowd erupted in conversation. The judge banged his gavel and said, "There will be no conversation during examination of witnesses. Bailiff, if anyone can’t keep quiet escort them out of the courtroom. The bailiff nodded.
"I’m going to show you Defendant’s Exhibits 8-13," Paula said and handed a stack of photos to the witness. "Can you identify these photos?"
"Yes, I took these Wednesday night at the Granada Theater. They show Margie Mason meeting with Laura Bell."
Paula took the photos and showed them to Thornton. Then she said, "Your Honor, we request that Defendant’s Exhibits 8-13 be admitted.
Thornton looked up and said, "Objection," Your Honor. These are irrelevant. Margie Mason and Laura Bell are not on trial here.
"Overruled."
"Pass the witness," Paula said.
Thornton jumped up. "And how is it, sir, that you just happened to be at the Granada Theater on Wednesday night?"
"Stan Turner hired me to follow Margie Mason and take pictures if she met up with Laura Bell."
"I see. How do you suppose Mr. Turner knew Margie Mason would be meeting Laura Bell?" Thornton asked.
"Objection." Paula snarled. "That’s irrelevant."
"Overruled, I would like to hear the answer to that question," the judge said.
"I don’t know. He didn’t tell me that."
Thornton gave the witness a puzzled look. The judge said, "Any further questions, Mr. Thornton?"
"No, Your Honor."
"Redirect," the judge asked.
"No further questions," Paula replied.
"Very well," the judge said. "Call your next witness."
I stood up and said, "The defense calls Laura Bell."
The Bailiff escorted Laura Bell into the courtroom. She looked scared as she quickly made her way to the witness stand.
"Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" the judge asked.
"Yes," she said.
I started out slowly with Laura asking her simple questions about her background, her marriage to Luther, their child and the onset of their marital difficulties. Then I asked her about the night they broke up.
"Tell us about your last night with Luther?"
"What do you mean?"
"You had an argument, right?"
"Yes, I discovered he had been unfaithful again."
"So you were angry?"
"Yes, of course I was. I told him to get out."
"Did he leave?"
"Eventually."
"After you pulled a gun on him?"
The crowd stirred. The judge sat up straight and glared at the gallery. Laura Bell lowered her head.
"I wasn’t going to use it. I just wanted to scare him."
"So you pulled a gun on him and told him to get out, is that right?"
"Yes, and had he not left, would you have killed him?"
"Objection!" Thornton yelled. "Calls for speculation."
"Sustained."
"Your husband was in the insurance business, right?"
"Yes."
"Did he carry a lot of insurance?"
"Well, I don’t know if you would call it a lot."
"Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, right?"
"I believe so."
I laughed. "I think that would qualify as a lot."
"Objection!"
"Withdrawn."
"Mrs. Bell. You testified your divorce was never finalized, right?"
"Yes."
"So, were you still the beneficiary of the insurance?"
"Yes, I was really surprised to learn that, but I guess I was."
"Have you already received some of that insurance money?"
Laura Bell’s face turned stone grey. She shifted in her chair. The gallery waited for her response. She finally said weakly, "Yes."
"And when did you receive that money?"
"A few days ago."
"Wednesday to be exact, right?"
"I guess."
"Did you give any of that insurance money to Margie Mason?"
"No. Why would I do that?"
"Your Honor," I said. "May I approach the witness."
The judge nodded. I took the photos up and handed them to Laura Bell. She took a quick glance at them and then looked up.
"Is that you sitting next to Margie Mason?"
She nodded.
"You’ll have to answer out loud so the jury can hear you and the court reporter can take down your answer."
"Yes. That’s me with Margie Mason."
"And was that taken Wednesday night?"
"Yes, we were going to see a movie. Is that a crime?"
"No, of course not. But I’m curious how you and Margie became so close."
"Well, we’re not that close."
"She’s staying in your condo isn’t she?"
"Huh?"
"Doesn’t the condo belong to you now that Luther is dead?"
"Well, technically, but I couldn’t kick Margie out when she’s still mourning."
"Oh, so is that why you let her keep the Cadillac and gave her part of the insurance proceeds?"
"Objection, assumes facts not in evidence," Thornton said.
"I’ll rephrase."
"Did you give part of the insurance proceeds to Margie Mason? And I’ll remind you, you’re under oath."
"It was just a loan. She was broke. I felt sorry for her."
"Was that it or was it her cut for murdering Luther Bell?"
There were several gasps of shock from the gallery. Everyone started talking. Several newsmen jumped up and scampered out of the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel. The bailiff stood up and glared at the gallery.
"Objection!" Thornton screamed.
"Overruled." The noise in the gallery hadn’t subsided. "Silence!" the judge screamed. Finally the room became quiet again. Thornton nodded to Laura Bell to answer the question.
"No. I just felt sorry for Margie. I understood how betrayed she must have felt after Luther left her with nothing."
"Betrayed? Did she tell you she caught Luther at a motel with a stripper a few nights before he was murdered?"
Laura Bell was breathing heavy now. She looked at the judge and then back at me. "No, I don’t recall that."
"Are you going to be loaning more money to Margie when the rest of your insurance proceeds come in?"
"Oh, no. She’s got enough." Laura blurted out and then froze. I looked at the jury hoping they were focusing on Laura Bell. Her expression was her confession and I prayed the jury had read it the way I had. Thornton didn’t bother to cross examine Laura Bell. He probably figured it might make matters worse, as Laura Bell was shaking badly when she finally left the stand.
Fortunately, the judge recessed the case and told us to return at ten on Monday morning. I was glad to get a break, as it had been an exhausting week.
When we got back to the office, Jodie jumped up and said, "I’m glad you’re back. You’ve got to go to Parkland Hospital right away."
"Parkland Hospital? Why?’
"Melanie Dixon’s has been beat up pretty badly. They found your card in her purse and called here. I told them you were in trial but would get over there just as soon as possible."
"Who beat her up?"
"I don’t know."
"How badly is she hurt?
"Pretty bad. She’s in ICU."
"Oh, my God!" I said, and rushed out the door. It took me about thirty minutes to get to Parkland. On the way I couldn’t help but wonder if Melanie’s attackers were connected to the diamonds. A police detective was in the waiting room when I got there. I introduced myself.
"Who do you think did it?"
"Professionals. They were looking for information."
"Information? What kind of information?"
"I don’t know. I thought maybe you might help us out there."
"Well, I wouldn’t know. Melanie was just selling some Peruvian pottery for me. I can’t imagine why anyone would beat her up. Is she going to be okay?"
"I think so. They’ve moved her into a room. It looks like she’s out of danger."
"Thank God. Do you think they will let me see her?"
"Sure, I just left her a minute ago. She’s coherent."
The detective gave me his card and said, "If you think of anything or learn anything from Ms. Dixon, please give me a call."
"I will. Thanks."
After checking in at the nurse’s station to find out Melanie’s room number, I walked in. Her eyes were closed, so I just watched her for a moment. After a minute she coughed and opened her eyes.
"Stan," she said. "I’m so glad to see you."
I walked over to her and sat on the side of her bed. She smiled up at me weakly.
"What happened?" I asked.
"When I came back from lunch today, two men grabbed me and pulled me behind our building. They said they knew I had the diamonds and they wanted them."
"Oh, God. What did you tell them?"
"I told them I didn’t know what they were talking about. They said they knew Melvin dumped them somewhere in Dallas, and when they heard about me shopping for diamond buyers they put two and two together."
"Shit!"
"I told them I didn’t have them—that I was just a broker. That’s when they started beating me."
"Are you in a lot of pain," I said, feeling very guilty that I had gotten her into this mess.
