Turning Angel

Chapter 13

There’s an empty parking space in front of the D.A.’s private entrance. I park and ring the bell, but no one answers. Banging on the door produces no response, either. I call Shad’s office from my cell phone, but all I get is a recording saying that the office is closed.

Even angrier than when I left the house, I walk around to the alley behind the waterworks. In the shadows between the buildings, I can hardly see my hand in front of my face. But on the third floor, bright fluorescent light spills from a row of casement windows.

Shad’s office.

A ladder dangles from a landing on the building across the alley.Fire escape. One minute of careful climbing puts me on a third-floor landing, where I smell the aroma of seafood cooking in the restaurant on the next block. I can also see directly into the office of the district attorney. What I see brings acid into my throat.

Shad Johnson is pacing around his office in a brilliant blue suit, while seated at his desk is Arthel Minor. To ensure impartiality, circuit judges are supposed to be assigned cases by a simple system of rotation, but in practice cases are often steered to certain judges by crafty lawyers. It’s pretty clear to me which judge will be assigned Kate Townsend’s murder case. Beyond Judge Minor, leaning against a filing cabinet on the far wall, stands Billy Byrd, the redneck sheriff of Adams County. This is the most unlikely lynch mob I ever heard of, but there’s no doubt in my mind about their intended function.

Two bricks lie on the landing at my feet. I’m tempted to hurl one through Shad’s window, but that would probably put me in jail for the night. Instead, I pick one up and start banging the metal railing of the fire escape. The clanging echoes through the alley like hammer blows in a blacksmith’s shop.

Shad soon comes to his window. I keep banging, and Sheriff Byrd appears at the next window in the row. Then Judge Minor materializes behind him. The sheriff motions angrily for me to stop.

I don’t.

Sheriff Byrd clearly does not recognize me. But now that I have the group’s attention, I hold up my cell phone, shake it theatrically, then dial Shad’s office again. They all turn away from the windows. Finally, Shad answers his phone.

“Hello?”

“ Who’s making that goddamn racket?” I yell.

“What?” Shad asks in a flabbergasted voice. “Who is this?”

“Penn Cage, you unethical prick. Go downstairs and let me in.”

“Is that you banging on that fire escape across the alley?”

“You bet it is. And now that I’ve caught you three in the act, there’s no point trying to hide. Open up.”

Shad slams down the phone.

I scramble down the ladder and race around to the D.A.‘s door. Sheriff Byrd stands waiting for me, one hand on the gun in his belt and a seething anger tightening his jaw muscles.

“What the Sam D. Hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

“I’d like you to answer the same question.” I push past him and take the stairs two at a time, preferring to confront the judge before the others. But when I reach Shad’s office, Judge Minor is nowhere in sight.

Now Shad sits behind his antique desk, watching me like someone looking at a dangerous mental patient.

“Where’s Judge Minor?” I demand.

The district attorney doesn’t answer.

“He didn’t make it downstairs that fast unless he sprinted, and that’s a little undignified for a judge-even one of questionable integrity. Is he hiding in another office?”

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Shad asks, slowly getting himself under control. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the third co-conspirator in this little lynch mob.”

Shad’s mouth drops open. “You’d better choose your words with more care, Counselor.”

“I said exactly what I meant to say.”

“Did you now?” Sheriff Byrd asks from behind me, huffing from the exertion of climbing stairs.

“What else did I see through those windows?” I ask. “The circuit judge, the sheriff, and the district attorney all huddled in a room after dark. The irony is exquisite.”

“What irony’s that?” asks the sheriff, who wouldn’t know irony if it hit him over the head.

“If Shad and Judge Minor weren’t black-and if this were forty years ago-what else could I conclude but that I was seeing a lynching in the making?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shad says finally.

“Do you deny that you three were discussing Drew Elliott before I showed up?”

Sheriff Byrd starts to deny it, but Shad holds up a hand to silence him. “Why should I deny that?”

“Because it isn’t exactly standard procedure for a murder investigation.”

“Dr. Elliott isn’t a standard murder suspect. Neither was Kate Townsend a standard victim. She was practically a celebrity around here. And that’s what we were discussing. The whole town’s turned upside down from the rumors going around, and we wanted to make sure we were all on the same page.”

“That’s called collusion, Shad.”

“It’s none of your damn business what we’re doing up here,” says the sheriff.

I focus on Shad. “You know a meeting like that borders on being unethical. Drew hasn’t even been charged with murder. The circuit judge has no place whatever in this matter. Not at this time.”

“ Borderson,” Shad echoes, tilting his head to indicate the equivocal nature of this point. “This is a special case, Penn. And we all agree that it needs to be expedited as quickly as possible.”

“That’s exactly the wrong thing to do. You need to proceed methodically, follow precedent, and leave no stone unturned in your investigation.”

Sheriff Byrd leans against the filing cabinet again and regards me with disdain. “My mama always told me the worst vice is ad -vice.”

“I know your mama,” I tell him. “I think most people would agree she could have used a little advice herself along the way.”

Byrd comes off the file cabinet with stunning speed, one fist clenched and the other hand on his gun.

“Billy!” Shad yells. “He’s just trying to bait you.”

“You smug son of a bitch,” Byrd says in a murderous tone. “Just keep on with your shit. See what happens.”

Shad lays his palms flat on his desk. “Penn, you’ll get your chance to weigh in on these issues during the trial. But for now-”

“The trial? You’ve found nothing so far that indicates Drew should even be indicted. You’ve hijacked the grand jury to question minors without their parents present. You’ve started rumors that have already gone a long way toward ruining Dr. Elliott’s career. Half the town already thinks he’s guilty of murder, and he hasn’t even been charged. And what do you have, really? A rumor that he was having sex with Kate Townsend. That’s light-years away from capital murder!”

Shad seems unfazed by my impassioned outburst. “Are you finished?”

“For the moment.”

“Then why don’t you try listening for a change?”

“I’m all ears.”

“Dr. Elliott is in deep trouble, and it has nothing to do with the meeting you just witnessed. Let me review the evidence for you. First, the anonymous call that started this thing.”

I start to argue, but Shad silences me with a shake of his head.

“That call was too strange to ignore. If you were the D.A., you would have handled it just as I did. You’d have called Dr. Elliott into your office. In any case, that anonymous call certainly led somewhere, didn’t it?”

“Damned straight,” agrees Sheriff Byrd.