Sasha McCandless 03 - Irretrievably Broken (26 page)

Naya inclined her head toward Caroline to let Sasha know she’d been busy.

“Caroline, could you excuse us for a moment? I need to speak to Naya in private,” Sasha said.

“Of course,” Caroline answered in a ragged voice that left no question she’d been crying.

Naya followed Sasha across the hall into her office. Sasha stopped just inside the door and turned to Naya.

“What’s she doing here?”

“She needs a lawyer, Mac. Thank God you’re back; I’ve been holding her hand all morning,” Naya said.

“Whatever her issue is, make her an appointment for next week and then get rid of her. Please,” Sasha added.

“I think you should listen to what she has to say. What’s got your panties in a knot, anyway?  Did Prescott & Talbott back out on the bail?”

“I wish. No. The District Attorney showed up personally and read the charges: murder in the first degree and murder of an unborn child in the first degree.”

“Ouch. No bail, then,” Naya said.

“Yeah, no bail. He’s spending the weekend in custody. We got the judge to set the preliminary hearing for Monday morning, though. So maybe we can get him out then.”

“That’s good,” Naya said.

“You’d think so. But, after the arraignment, the DA served us with a motion to revoke Greg’s bail. That hearing is set for Monday afternoon,” Sasha said.

“I guess I know how we’re spending our weekend.”

Sasha nodded. “Right. So, can you get rid of Caroline?”

“Trust me. You want to hear her out,” Naya answered in a firm voice.

Sasha lacked the energy to argue with her.

“Fine,” Sasha said, “let’s talk to her. But, when Larry gets here, you’re going to have to peel off and help him. He can only stay for a few hours. He’s got to get out of here before sundown.”

Larry and Bertie observed Shabbat, the Jewish sabbath. He would be unavailable beginning at sunset and lasting until three stars were visible in the night sky on Saturday. Given Larry and Bertie’s regular bedtime, she didn’t expect him to be back at work again until Sunday morning, at the earliest. Naya, similarly, would be unavailable most of Sunday, because her weekly Baptist church service stretched on for hours and was followed by a potluck meal with the congregation.

Unlike Prescott & Talbott, Sasha didn’t pay Naya enough to justify a seven-day grind. And Larry had refused to accept any payment for his assistance. So, she’d be glad for whatever help they were willing to give her over the weekend.

Naya headed for her office.

Over her shoulder, she said, “Let me grab a notepad and a pen. I’ll bring Caroline right over.”

Before Sasha, Caroline, and Naya had arranged themselves around the conference table where just one day earlier Nick had evaded Sasha’s questions, Larry arrived.

Sasha made the introductions.

“Caroline, this is Larry Steinfeld, a lion of the criminal defense bar. Caroline Masters is the secretary to the chair of Prescott & Talbott, Larry. As I understand it, she has a somewhat urgent legal matter to discuss.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Larry said as he shook Caroline’s hand and gave her a grandfatherly smile. Over her head, he frowned at Sasha and shook his head.

“Naya will help you with the research for our other matters while Caroline and I chat,” Sasha said, in an effort to forestall his objection.

Caroline cleared her throat and spoke in a soft voice, “If the other matters are your criminal cases for Ellen and Clarissa’s husbands, you may want to stay, too. Mr. Prescott instructed me to destroy some documents that I think may be related to the murders.” She kept her eyes glued on her hands, which were busy shredding a tissue into tiny scraps of lint.

Larry wasted no time dragging the last chair over to the table. Naya got him his own pad and pen, then shut the door. They arranged themselves and sat silently, with pens poised over paper.

“Just start at the beginning,” Naya encouraged her.

“Wait,” Sasha said, “did Naya explain that this conversation is privileged?”

“She did,” Caroline confirmed.

Sasha would have to stop her if it sounded as though she’d destroyed any documents that might have exculpated either Nick or Greg. In that situation, she’d be conflicted out of representing Caroline with regard to any charges that might stem from the destruction of evidence. She would deal with that eventuality if and when it arose. For now, she wanted to hear Caroline’s story.

Caroline swallowed visibly. Then she wet her lips and began.

“On Monday, Mr. Prescott was very busy dealing with the news of Ellen’s murder. He had several long meetings; first, with the management committee, then with the partners, and finally with the administrative department heads, who met with staff. As you can imagine, the entire office was abuzz. It was a trying situation.”

Sasha could imagine. She also noted that, in typical Prescott & Talbott fashion, no one had bothered to meet with the associates. Gossip and misinformation had no doubt flown through the associate ranks as they gathered what news they could from their secretaries and any income partners who were willing to share a stray nugget or two of information. The firm’s management seemed to believe its associate ranks functioned best when treated like mushrooms: kept in the dark and fed a lot of manure.

“Of course. Please go on,” Sasha prompted.

“In addition to all the internal meetings, he had all the outsiders to deal with. Ellen’s clients, Prescott & Talbott alumni, other lawyers, and, of course, the press and the police. His phones rang non-stop. It was very stressful for him.”

Naya rolled her eyes at the concern for poor Cinco. Sasha was inclined to agree, but she reminded herself that Caroline’s sole professional purpose seemed to be to insulate Cinco from unpleasantness. Of course, she would worry about the effect of Ellen’s murder on her boss.

Caroline paused to gather her thoughts and then continued her linear, straightforward recitation of the facts.

“So, Mr. Prescott was swamped. Then, late in the afternoon, a messenger arrived with a hand delivery.”

“Wait,” Naya said, holding up a hand to interrupt the narrative. “The messenger brought it up to your office?  He or she didn’t leave it with the mailroom?”

“Right,” Caroline confirmed.

A look passed between Sasha and Naya.

Larry caught it. “What?” he asked.

“That’s unusual. Typically, all deliveries, including hand deliveries, go to the central mailroom for distribution,” Sasha explained.

Larry scribbled a note on his legal pad.

“It is unusual,” Caroline said, “but it’s not unheard of. In any event, I signed for the envelope and sent the courier on his way.”

“Then what did you do?” Sasha said.

“I wasn’t sure what to do,” Caroline explained. “The envelope was marked ‘Personal and Confidential’ and there was no return address. Ordinarily, I give Mr. Prescott his personal correspondence unopened. But, he was so busy, and the phone messages were piling up. So, I decided to just open it and sort it along with all the other mail.”

She shook her head with a slow, sad motion and added, “I certainly wish I hadn’t.”

“What was it?” Sasha said.

Caroline reached into her bag and removed a large white envelope. She handed it across the table to Sasha.

“See for yourself,” Caroline said.

Sasha tore open the flap, which had managed to retain some stickiness, and shook out a photograph. She recognized it instantly. It was The Terrific Trio, resplendent in their formal gowns—the same picture that Ellen had displayed in her home office. In this copy, however, Ellen’s face had been obliterated with a heavy red X. Along the bottom of the photograph, someone had written “ONE DOWN” in thick block letters.

Sasha’s pulse sped up. She passed the picture to Naya, who stared down at it.

“That’s sick,” Naya said and handed it to Larry.

“That’s Ellen Mortenson,” Sasha explained to Larry, “the woman whose face has been crossed out.”

“And next to her?” Larry asked without looking up from the photograph.

“Clarissa Costopolous,” Sasha said.

Larry dropped the picture on the table as if it were hot. He peered down at it again, then he said, “Who’s the third woman?”

“That’s Martine Landry,” Naya said. “She used to be a lawyer at Prescott & Talbott, too.”

“Is she still alive?” Larry asked.

“Yes,” Sasha and Naya answered in unison.

Sasha turned to Caroline for confirmation. “She is, right?”

“Yes. I mean, as far as I know.”

Sasha pulled her eyes away from the picture.

“You gave this to Cinco?” she asked.

“Yes. I ... well, I was shocked and sickened when I saw it. So, I stuffed it back into the envelope and took it in to Mr. Prescott.”

“Did you talk about it with him?” Naya asked.

Caroline shook her head. “No. He must have known I’d seen it; the envelope had been opened. But, he didn’t mention it to me, and I was feeling queasy about it. I didn’t want to bring it up. I guess I assumed he wouldn’t want to discuss it.”

She finished in a soft voice and stared down at her hands.

“What did he do after you gave it to him?” Sasha asked.

“He met with the management committee again. After that, he told me to get Will Volmer for him.”

“And then?” Sasha asked.

Caroline looked up. “And then, Will came out of Mr. Prescott’s office and asked me to find your phone number.”

Everyone was silent while that sunk in.

Then Caroline cleared her throat. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Naya showed Caroline to the bathroom and returned with a pitcher of water and an armful of glasses. While they waited for Caroline, Larry and Naya bent their heads over the picture and spoke in low tones. Sasha stood at the window, looking out over the tops of the low buildings across the street.

Her heart thrummed in her throat. Prescott & Talbott was using her to cover something up. Sasha wanted to scream. Run wind sprints until she wore herself out. Or unleash a flurry of fists on a heavy bag. Instead, she focused on breathing deeply and deliberately.

She had to keep her anger in check and gather information. And she had to take care of her clients. She’d deal with Prescott & Talbott later.

She returned to the table as Caroline entered the room.

Caroline walked them through the rest of it. How she’d arrived at work Thursday morning to find a second envelope, identical to the first, on the floor inside the door. How she had resisted the urge to open it.

She paused and retrieved the second envelope from her bag. Inside was another defaced copy of the photograph. This time, both Ellen and Clarissa were covered with red Xs and the chilling message read “TWO DOWN.”

They stared at it while Caroline explained that she’d given it to Cinco, who told her to have Clarissa see him when she got in.

“But, of course,” Caroline said, her voice shaking, “Clarissa never made it to work yesterday.”

“Did Mr. Prescott tell the police about either of these photographs?” Larry asked.

“No,” Caroline replied immediately. Then, her years of working at a law firm kicked in and she corrected herself. “I mean, not to my knowledge. I suppose he could have. I doubt it, though, considering they were in the stack of the documents he told me to shred.”

Naya raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. Sasha read the look to say Naya wasn’t surprised by Cinco’s behavior. Sasha had to admit she was surprised. Not shocked, but surprised. Cinco had to know the consequences for destroying evidence. His secretary certainly did.

“How did that all go down?” Sasha asked. “The shredding, I mean.”

Caroline poured herself a glass of water from the heavy pitcher. Her hands were steady.

“Yesterday, after he met with the police in the garage, he came back to the office and started rifling through the filing cabinets. He was obviously looking for something but he wouldn’t tell me what it was.”  She paused and took a sip of water. “Finally, he gave up and told me he needed some old personnel files. They were so old that they were archived in off-site storage. I had them sent up and he took them into his office.”

“Was it unusual that he would want to see old files?” Sasha asked. Cinco was the chairman of the firm. Presumably, he would need access to all sorts of historical information.

Caroline took another long drink and considered her answer. “I take no pleasure in denigrating Mr. Prescott. We’ve worked together for a long time, and he’s a fair boss and a decent man. He’s not what I would call a detail person, though. He’s never gone digging around in the files before. He reads his mail, holds meetings, and that’s pretty much it.”

“Fair enough,” Sasha said.

“Yesterday afternoon, he came out of his office with a redweld stuffed full of documents. He told me to shred them. At first, I assumed he wanted me to do what I always do: leave them in the tray for the office services team to pick up and shred, but then he explicitly said he wanted me to shred them personally.” Caroline traced a circle with her finger on her drink coaster around the outside of her water glass. “He’d never done that before. We send everything to shredding—salary information, draft settlement agreements, all sorts of sensitive documents. But, he wanted me to handle this myself.”

“Did he tell you what the documents were?” Naya asked.

“No.” She looked up. “But, the two Tyvek envelopes were on the top of the pile. I could see them sticking out of the redweld. I took them out to see if it was just the envelopes, but the picture of Ellen with her face crossed out was inside the first envelope. So, I looked inside the second one and saw the other picture.”

“And you knew you shouldn’t destroy them, right?” Larry said, trying to prompt her gently.

She was silent for a long time. Then she said, “They’re important, right?  They could be evidence of a crime, right?”

Sasha nodded.

“And that gave me pause. Why would he have me shred pictures that would be helpful to the police?” She tapped the edge of the glass with a polished fingernail. “I didn’t want to distrust him, but I thought I should look through the rest of the documents.”