“Hello, Mrs. Vergano. Recovered from your first arraignment yet?”
Ami’s blood pressure started to go up until she realized that the question was not a taunt but had been asked in a friendly tone. Still, she wasn’t ready yet to forgive and forget.
“What can I do for you?” Ami asked.
“It’s what I can do for you. I met with my investigator. He’s talked to some more witnesses, and I have a better picture of the case now. I have a proposition for Mr. Morelli.”
“And that would be?”
“I’m willing to drop the charge of attempted murder in exchange for a plea to the assault on the officer. I’ll recommend a sentence of three years. With good time, Morelli will be out in about a year.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“I’m convinced that Morelli was trying to protect the coach when he fought with Barney Lutz.”
“So why not dismiss, if he was acting in self-defense?”
“Your client used too much force and he attacked a cop.”
“Morelli was attacked from behind. He didn’t know he was fighting with an officer.”
“He could see he was fighting a cop after he threw the cop over his shoulder. The other officer says that he shot Morelli because Morelli was about to spear his partner in the throat.”
“He was acting in the heat of passion.”
“Maybe, but he didn’t stop when he saw the uniform, so that’s the best I can do.”
“I’ll relay the offer to my client,” Ami said.
“There’s another condition.”
“What’s that?”
“To get the deal, your client has to tell us his real name.”
“Why does he have to do that?”
“So we can be sure that he’s not wanted for other crimes. We’ve reached a dead end trying to identify him. That’s a little spooky nowadays. Someone like Morelli should have fingerprints on file.”
“He’s a drifter. He doesn’t hold regular jobs, and he gets paid in cash.”
“Tom Haven, the cop that shot Morelli, was in the military and knows something about self-defense. He told me that no one handles himself the way your client did without serious training. Haven thinks that there’s a good chance Morelli is ex-military, which makes it even odder that his prints aren’t on file.” He paused. “You may not want to believe it, but your boy is probably a trained killer. I need to know if he’s hurt other people the way he hurt my cop and Mr. Lutz.”
“I’ll talk to Dan and get back to you.”
“Good. One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I want to apologize for coming on so strong that first day. I didn’t know you, and I honestly thought that you were trying to chase Morelli’s ambulance. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
Ami was surprised by the apology but was still angry with Kirkpatrick.
“That’s right, you shouldn’t have,” she answered.
“I said I’m sorry. I checked around. You’ve got a good rep.”
“I’ll get back to you,” was Ami’s terse reply.
Ami hung up and stared out her window. “Well, well,” she thought, “miracles do happen.” Maybe she’d been wrong about Kirkpatrick and he wasn’t a total prick. She remembered what Betty Sato had said about the prosecutor’s wife. Ami knew what it was like to lose a spouse you really loved. It changed you.
Ami picked up a picture of Ryan and held it in front of her. He was so beautiful and so good. She had lost Chad, but she was so lucky to have Ryan to love. Kirkpatrick didn’t have a child to soften the blow of losing his wife. Kirkpatrick’s work had become his life, and his work was dealing with the horror that the worst people in society imposed on innocent men, women, and children. You would have to become hard and mistrusting if that was all you thought about every day. Ami closed her eyes and thanked God for Ryan. After Chad died, Ryan had kept her sane and given her hope. Without him she could have easily slipped into despair. Despite everything that had happened to her, she knew that she was fortunate to be the mother of someone as special as her son.
Ami turned back to her desk and opened Carl Rice’s file. Inside was the number of Ray Armitage’s hotel in Boulder, Colorado. She wasn’t experienced enough to know if the plea offer Kirkpatrick had made was good or bad. That would be a job for a seasoned criminal defense attorney. Fortunately, Armitage was in his room. Ami didn’t tell him about any of the new developments in the case except for Kirkpatrick’s plea offer. The defense attorney said that the offer sounded okay but he couldn’t advise Morelli about it until he’d studied the facts thoroughly. Then he told Ami that there had been a new development in the case of the Olympic skier that would keep him in Colorado for three more days. He promised to call her as soon as he knew when he was returning to Portland and assured her that he was very interested in Morelli’s case.
Ami hung up. She was disappointed that she would have to stay on as Rice’s attorney. The case was too big for her, and the story in the
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When Ami arrived at work the next morning she found a message from George French asking her to come to his office as soon as possible. Ami was nervous during the crosstown trip and she didn’t feel any better when she saw how grim Dr. French looked when he greeted her in his waiting room.
“My friend faxed me a copy of Rice’s military record,” the doctor said as he escorted Ami to his office. “You’re not going to like it.”
As soon as Ami was seated French handed her a government document titled “Report of Transfer or Discharge.” While Ami read it the psychiatrist gave her a quick synopsis of the report.
“Carl Rice was drafted into the service from the San Diego area and was in Special Forces. After a year of learning Vietnamese at the Army Language School at Fort Meyer, Rice was sent to Vietnam, where he saw combat. After this mission, Rice was hospitalized for combat-related stress. After his discharge from the hospital, Rice returned to the states and was assigned to be a language instructor at Fort Meyer. After his tour in Vietnam his records show no further service overseas.”
French pointed at a section of the form that indicated the soldier’s rank.
“Remember Rice told us that he was a captain?”
Ami nodded.
“This says that he was a sergeant.”
“I don’t know anything about military ranks. Is that a big difference?”
French laughed. “Night and day, Ami. A sergeant is a noncommissioned officer. A captain is a commissioned officer. Captain is a much higher rank.”
French handed Ami another document and pointed to a section marked “Conduct.”
“Here’s the really bad part. Rice was kicked out of the army because he wore the insignia of a captain and an improper uniform when he wasn’t authorized to do so.”
French handed Ami a psychiatric report from Walter Reed General Hospital signed by Captain Howard Stienbock.
“Read this,” the doctor said.
Ami started to feel queasy as she read Dr. Stienbock’s report.
