[Lady Justice 17] - Lady Justice and the Pharaoh's Curse Page 12

  “But why Ox?”

  “This is the part that I don’t understand. When they went to his house to question him, they searched his SUV and found a small gemstone in the back.”

  “Holy crap! It must be part of the treasure.”

  “What treasure? I’m confused.”

  “Okay, let me start at the beginning. When we searched Bernard Maloof’s apartment after he was murdered, we found a ledger written by his uncle who had worked on the restoration of the King Tut artifacts. Long story short, he swiped a lot of gold and jewels and hid them in the belly of the Anubis. When Bernie found out about the treasure, he cooked up a plan to steal the Anubis. As far as we knew, just five of us, Ox, me, the captain, Detective Blaylock and Dr. Grimm knew about the treasure. We figured that Lester Figg offed Maloof and his buddy, Marty Ringer, and swiped the Anubis to boost his book sales. We don’t think he ever knew about the treasure.”

  “So let me get this straight,” Romero said. “Everyone thought Figg had the Anubis, even though he didn’t know what was in it. Then, someone who knew about the treasure, gets Figg to give it up and then kills him to keep him quiet. Is that about right?”

  I nodded.

  “Then the Anubis and the sand that Figg was buried in turns up in a building you own and a piece of the missing treasure shows up in Ox’s SUV. No wonder they arrested the two of you.”

  “But it’s all circumstantial!” I protested again. “Anyone could have planted the stuff in the hotel and Ox’s SUV is in the police parking lot all day. Anyone with a slim-jim could have broken in and planted the jewel. And what about Ox? Have you talked to him? You’ll represent him, too, won’t you?”

  “You know that you’re entitled to separate representation.”

  I remembered that same issue being raised with Ralph and Doris McDonald. They chose to stay together and that’s what I wanted too.

  “No, you can talk to Ox, but as far as I’m concerned, I want you to represent both of us. You’re the best. I know we’re innocent, but however this turns out, we’ll do it together.”

  She nodded. “One more thing. Who found Bernard Maloof’s body?”

  “Ox and I did.”

  “Marty Ringer?”

  “Us too.”

  “Lester Figg?”

  “Okay, I see where you’re going here. We were sent on all those calls. You can check with the dispatcher.”

  “I will, but you can certainly see how this looks on the surface. That’s a lot of coincidence to explain away.”

  “Well then, don’t forget Rhonda Reams,” I replied sarcastically. We found her body, too.”

  “Oh, yes, the hooker. How does she fit into all this?”

  “She was Figg’s alibi on the night that Maloof was killed. We figured all along that he had paid her and up to now, we assumed that she was blackmailing him for more money and he killed her to shut her up, but after all this --- well --- I just don’t know.”

  “What’s different now?”

  “Ox and I just discovered that two vice cops, Phil Rollins and Gary Fricke had collared her for solicitation. She said she had information about a murder that she would trade for a walk on the solicitation charge. She told them it was about Bernard Maloof’s murder, so they pulled the evidence box that contained the ledger. Rollins claims that he never read the thing, but I don’t believe him. They could be behind all of this, planting the evidence to cover their own tails.”

  “Do you have any evidence to back that up?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, unfortunately, Blaylock has plenty of evidence on you and Ox even though it may be circumstantial. I doubt he’s going to be looking somewhere else. A bird in the hand, you know. I do have some good news.”

  “Swell, I could use some.”

  “Both you and Ox are going to be held in solitary. Blaylock didn’t think it would be a good idea to put you in with the general population. It would be just your luck to get bunked up with someone you’ve busted.”

  That was a huge relief. I remembered Jerry’s stupid joke about the small circle being your asshole before prison and frankly, I was a bit concerned. The only other human that had been there was Doc Johnson doing my infrequent prostate exams, and I definitely wanted to keep it that way.

  “What about visitors? Can I have visitors?”

  “Yes, that can be arranged. Maggie?”

  “Actually, I’d like to see Kevin, my brother-in-law.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  It didn’t take long for the word to spread through the cell block that a cop had been incarcerated.

  My first indication was some jerk yelling, “I smell bacon!”

  That was quickly followed by, “Here, piggy, piggy!” along with a bunch of disgusting pig squeals.

  The movie, Deliverance, came to mind. I finally had to stuff toilet paper in my ears to get a few hours’ sleep.

  My meals had been delivered to me in my cell, so when I was escorted into the courtroom for our arraignment, it was the first time I’d seen Ox.

  “Hey, Partner,” I said. “How’s it going?”

  “I’ve had better nights. At least I didn’t have to sleep with a three-hundred pound biker with tattoos and ear studs.”

  As we headed to the defense table, I saw Maggie and Judy in the first row holding hands. When Maggie saw me, she bit her lip to keep from crying. I could see that her eyes were red and swollen. All the rest of my over-the-hill gang were sitting right behind her.

  Suzanne Romero nodded as we took our places beside her.

  “Here ye! Here ye!” the bailiff bellowed. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Katheryn Higgins.”

  Judge Higgins entered the courtroom, her robe billowing behind her.

  She was certainly no stranger to us. Both Ox and I had testified in her court several times. Our eyes met briefly and she quickly turned away.

  “Mr. Prosecutor, what say you?”

  The Prosecutor rose from his chair. “Your Honor, Case number 5213 is before us this morning. Defendants Walter Williams and George Wilson are charged with the murder of Lester Figg. The State will prove that the defendants willfully and with premeditation took the life of Lester Figg. They are charged with murder in the first degree.”

  Before he could be seated, I heard, “That’s a lie, you dipshit! Walt could never hurt anyone like that!”

  I turned and saw Dad pulling Bernice back into her seat.

  The judge banged her gavel and glared at Bernice. “One more outburst like that and you’ll be in contempt of court. Do you understand?”

  Bernice glared right back, but nodded her head.

  “Ms. Romero, how do the defendants plead?”

  Romero rose. “Not guilty, your Honor.”

  The judge turned to the prosecutor. “What are your recommendations regarding bail.”

  “Judge, the State recommends that the defendants be held without bail. This is a first degree murder charge and in addition, it is believed that the defendants may be in possession of gold and gems worth millions of dollars. We believe they could be a flight risk.”

  “Ms. Romero?”

  “Your Honor, these two men have distinguished careers in the Kansas City Police Department and have spotless records. The State’s case against them is circumstantial at best. To have them locked in a jail cell until trial is a travesty of justice.”

  I could see that Judge Higgins was weighing her options. Finally, she banged her gavel. “Bail is set at one million each. Next case.”

  “Sorry,” Romero said. “Any chance you can make the bail?”

  Even though I owned my apartment building and the hotel free and clear, the two together might be worth four-hundred thousand. I certainly didn’t have that kind of cash laying around and I doubted Ox did either.

  We both shook our heads.

  “Time to go,” the officer said.

  “One moment, please.”

  I leaned close to Suzanne and whispered, “M
y brother-in-law, Kevin McBride. I need to see him ASAP. How’s that coming along?”

  “I’ll see that he gets here this afternoon.”

  As I was led away, I saw Maggie and Judy clinging to one another.

  Maggie reached out to me and I saw her lips form the words, ‘I love you.’

  I wondered how long it would be before I could hold her in my arms again.

  CHAPTER 15

  I knew that Suzanne Romero was right.

  With all the evidence stacked up against us, the chances were slim and none that Detective Blaylock would be looking for more suspects, especially more cops.

  I was convinced that Rollins and Fricke were the masterminds behind the setup, but I had no proof, and being locked up, there was no way Ox and I were going to find anything.

  I needed help on the outside and I figured my best bet was Kevin McBride.

  He had over thirty years under his belt as a private investigator. Kevin had proven himself to be very resourceful, almost to the point of being a modern-day MacGyver. Had he chosen a life on the shady side of the law, he would have been a great con man.

  Romero made good on her promise to get Kevin a visitor’s pass.

  “How you holding up, Bro?” he asked, taking a seat across the table from me.

  “I’m holding up,” I replied. “It’s not exactly the Motel 6, but at least I have a private room.”

  “Still got your sense of humor. That’s good.”

  “How’s Maggie doing?” I asked.

  “As well as could be expected. She said that with all the crap you’ve been involved in, she had prepared herself for pretty much anything, but certainly not prison. I’m just thankful she has Judy to share her burden. So how can I help?”

  “Well, I had pretty much brought you up to date on our case the other night at dinner. I was just getting ready to tell you about two new suspects when the cops came busting in and hauled me away. Now, with the way this has gone down, I’m sure they’re behind all this, but we need proof.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  I filled him in on our suspicions of Rollins and his partner.

  “Wow! Dirty cops. That’s always a tough one,” he said. “They’re always street smart and know just what to do to cover their asses. So you think Rollins lied about reading the ledger. When he found out about the treasure, he and his partner confronted Figg and got him to spill the beans where he had stashed it. Then they whacked Figg and maybe the hooker, too. That’s when you and Ox confronted them about being in the evidence box. Am I right so far?”

  I nodded.

  “At that point, they must have been worried that you would run to Blaylock with your suspicions, so they cooked up this elaborate scheme to frame you and Ox and divert suspicion from themselves.”

  “That’s the way I see it.”

  “And there’s absolutely nothing but Rollins’ name on the evidence log to connect them to any of this?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Hmmmm, so when this Anubis thing was found in that flea bag hotel of yours, it had been opened and the treasure, if it really was there, was gone?”

  “That’s what I’m told.”

  “Then Rollins and Fricke must have it and that could be a problem for them.”

  “How so?”

  “Hey, it’s not like they ripped off a plasma TV that they could pass off to a fence or some pawn shop. The gold and jewels the old man hid away are rare artifacts, thousands of years old. They need to find a way to market them. They’re worth nothing to them hidden away somewhere.”

  I could see the wheels turning in his head.

  “I think I have a plan. What these guys need is a very wealthy private collector who is willing to pay top dollar for the stuff and keep his mouth shut.”

  “Do you know someone like that?”

  “Sure do, and he lives right in your building. The Professor.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “We’re going to set up a sting, and I know just who the players are going to be. The Professor is the wealthy collector and Willie is his chauffeur. I know a guy that runs a limo service who can get us a big long caddy. My sweetie, Veronica, will be the bait to reel in our crooked vice cops. Remember that tracking device that I had on my Dodge Charger that led us to the chop shop?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, that little baby strategically placed on Rollins’ car will lead Judy and me right to where they have the treasure stashed.”

  I was speechless.

  “Do you really think that will work?”

  “Hey,” he said with a grin, “Do bears crap in the woods?”

  Phil Rollins was at the hotel bar on a stakeout, nursing a scotch, when his partner who was sitting in an unmarked car outside called in. “Phil, we’ve got a hot one. A big caddy just pulled up. Some old dude and his bimbo just got out. I know she’s a working girl. I’ve seen her around.”

  “I’ll take it from here,” Rollins replied.

  An older black man in a fancy chauffeur’s uniform entered first and held the door. A buxom long-legged blonde in a tight white sheath was next, followed by an elderly gentleman who was walking with the aid of a cane.

  “Will dat be all, Mr. Cavendish?” the chauffeur asked.

  “Yes, Reginald. You may be excused for the evening. I think I’ll stop by the bar for a nightcap before retiring. Pick me up promptly at nine in the morning. I don’t want to miss my plane.”

  “Will do, Mr. Cavendish,” he replied, tipping his hat. “Have a good evening.”

  “How about me, Oscar?” the blonde asked. “Do you want me to join you?”

  “Veronica, my dear, you have been an absolute delight this evening, but no, I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll just have that drink and head up the penthouse. You’re excused for the evening.”

  “Whatever you say, Oscar,” she replied, standing on her tip toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

  Rollins watched as the old gentleman slipped into a booth and ordered a sherry.

  The blonde bimbo took a seat at the bar and ordered a Jack & Coke.

  Rollins figured that she would be sizing him up as a potential customer, but she just sipped her drink, ignoring him completely.

  He decided to make the first move and slid onto the stool beside her.

  “Hi, my name’s Phil. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Thanks, but no,” she said, giving him a sweet smile. “I’m ready to call it an evening.”

  Phil looked at his watch. “Really? It’s only nine o’clock. I thought you girls worked a lot later than that.”

  “What exactly did you mean by ‘you girls?’ ” she asked, giving him a reproachful look.

  “Oh, come on now. I saw you come in with the old gentleman. I know you’re a working girl.”

  “Well, if I was, and I’m not saying that I am, I still wouldn’t be working any more tonight. Mr. Cavendish was very generous today, so I’m taking the rest of the evening off.”

  “Wow, the old dude must be pushing ninety. How many little blues did it take to get the job done?”

  “Well, for your information, Oscar is eighty-six and he has no interest in sex. I’m with him strictly for companionship. He says I remind him of his granddaughter.”

  “What a waste,” Rollins said, sensing that a collar for solicitation just wasn’t in the cards. “What’s with the old guy? Looks like he’s loaded.”

  “Indeed he is. Old money --- from Boston. He came to town for the King Tut exhibit at Union Station. He’s a collector of rare antiquities.”

  That got Rollins attention. “Oh really! Why was he so interested in the King Tut exhibit? I heard that everything there was a reproduction.”

  Veronica looked around to make sure no one was listening. “Well, actually, he received a tip that some of the genuine artifacts from Tut’s tomb were somehow smuggled in with the exhibit, but when he started making inquiries, the lead sort of dried up. He was very disappointed. He was wil
ling to pay top dollar if the items were authentic.”

  Rollins couldn’t believe his good fortune. His first thought was that he had walked into a set up, but then he remembered that he had approached the woman who had just been sitting there minding her own business.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” he began, tentatively, “but I just might be able to help your old friend over there.”

  “I don’t understand,” she replied. “Help him with what?”

  “With the artifacts that he’s looking for. His tip was right and I know where they are.”

  “You gotta be kidding me,” she replied with genuine surprise. “What are the chances that we could have bumped into each other like this? If you’re telling me the truth and not just bullshitting me to get into my pants, Oscar will be thrilled, and very grateful, too.”

  “No! No bullshit. Do you think you could introduce me to Mr. Cavendish?”

  She thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t suppose it could hurt. Come on.”

  Veronica slid off her stool and led Rollins to her friend.

  “Oscar, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. He may have some information for you.”

  “I don’t know, dear,” he replied. “It’s been a very long and disappointing day --- except for your delightful company, of course. I’m very tired. I was just heading up to my suite.”

  Rollins extended his hand. “Mr. Cavendish, my name is Phil Rollins and I just might have the thing that would brighten your disappointing day.”

  Cavendish eyed the extended hand warily, but did not shake it. “Oh really? And what would that be? Make it quick.”

  Rollins quickly pulled his hand back. “Veronica here, was telling me that you’re a collector of Egyptian antiquities and had come to Kansas City hoping to acquire some artifacts from the King Tut exhibit.”

  “Oh she did, did she? Veronica, you mustn’t be sharing my personal business with every Tom, Dick and Harry.”

  “I’m sorry, Oscar. I’ll be more careful from now on. But it might have been a good thing tonight. You should hear what Mr. Rollins has to say.”

  “Very well,” he replied, obviously annoyed. “Go ahead.”