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Authors: Phillip Margolin

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Denise Blailock pulled a nondescript brown Honda to the curb in front of the Multnomah County Courthouse and looked around nervously as Max Dietz jumped into the passenger seat. After twenty minutes of evasive driving, Blailock stopped the car in a deserted gravel lot under a freeway overpass near the Willamette. As soon as the car was parked, Blailock got out and turned up her collar to cut the wind coming off the river. Dietz was dressed in a suit because he had court in the afternoon, and he started to shiver as soon as he got out.

“What the fuck have you gotten me into?” Blailock asked in a tone of voice he’d never heard her use before. Dietz sensed anger, but he also heard fear.

“I told you everything I knew,” he insisted. “That’s why I asked you to poke around.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me I’d be jabbing a hornet’s nest.”

“What happened?”

“I made a few calls, went on the Internet, nothing that exciting. The next thing I know, I’m called on the carpet by my boss and told in no uncertain terms that the
China Sea
does not exist, and never has, and any further inquiries I make about this phantom will be from my new posting in Butt Fuck, North Dakota.”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I had no idea your boss would come down on you.”

“Well, he has, and I know how to take a hint.”

“Did he tell you why he threatened you?”

“He was trying to help me. He’s a good egg. He watches my back, and he didn’t want me to get in trouble. After I talked to him, he got curious and made a few calls. He was also upset that DEA was kept out of the loop in a federal investigation involving drugs. The people he talked to at Homeland Security said no one from that agency was anywhere near Shelby, Oregon, on the night in question. Ditto every other agency he contacted. A few days later, he got a call from someone so high up the food chain he had to put on an oxygen mask to talk to him. This person told my boss in no uncertain terms that the
China Sea
never existed and he was never to inquire about the ship again.”

Dietz was about to apologize again when it dawned on him that Denise didn’t have to drive to a place where they would have complete privacy to tell him what she’d just disclosed.

“You found something, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Yeah, and I’m going to tell you because I think Jack Stamm screwed you. But we’re never going to discuss this subject again, ever.”

“OK, I swear. So tell me what’s going on with this ship.”

“Bad things, amigo. The
China Sea
has the makings of an urban legend. From what I know, two Shelby cops responded to a 911 and found five dead men and a large shipment of hashish on board. Shortly after they arrived, three carloads of armed men claiming to be from Homeland Security pulled up and told them they would be arrested for interfering in a federal investigation if they didn’t leave and turn over any forensic evidence they’d collected. Then the ship vanished, along with the night watchman who made the 911 call.”

“I was told this already,” Dietz said.

“Did anyone tell you about the other two dead men and the money?”

“What dead men, what money?”

“Sarah Woodruff told the cops that two men kidnapped John Finley from her house and the one she saw was wearing a leather jacket.”

“Yeah.”

“Shortly after Finley disappeared, two dead men were found on a deserted logging road. The police reports say they were shot. One of them was wearing a leather jacket, and they were both known drug dealers linked to Hector Gomez, who works for a Mexican drug cartel.

“Well, there’s a rumor making the rounds about a missing quarter-million dollars that was supposed to have been in the possession of the skipper of the
China Sea
. That’s what the drug dealers were after, in addition to the hashish, and it was the reason they kidnapped Finley.”

“Where did you get that tidbit? I thought the federal agencies won’t admit the ship exists.”

“They won’t. This rumor has been circulating among drug dealers and drug users. The same people who were questioned about the dead men on the logging road. If the hash on the ship was going to be used by some agency to fund an illegal operation, the agency would never admit to it. Drug dealers wouldn’t have the same motivation to keep quiet. That’s all I know, and this is the last time I’m ever going to talk about this subject.”

Denise dropped Dietz at the courthouse and sped off. The prosecutor went through security and rode the elevator to his office. It would take someone with a lot of power to scare the head of a DEA field office. Max wondered how many people had the clout to cover up a quintuple homicide. The more he learned, the more convinced he was that John Finley had been killed by drug dealers or government assassins. He wondered if he was putting himself in harm’s way by continuing to ask questions about the
China Sea
. Maybe the smart thing to do would be to back off. He was in Stamm’s doghouse, and his plan to get out of it had involved showing up Monte Pike by proving that Sarah Woodruff had not murdered John Finley. To do that, he’d planned to use the information about the ship, but everyone knew about the ship now. It would be better if Dietz showed up Pike, but the little prick would still be humiliated if Garrett won an acquittal.

By the time the elevator arrived at his floor, Dietz was ready to forget about the
China Sea
and move on with his life. The doors opened, and just as he started to leave the car, Dietz remembered something Denise Blailock had said. He froze with one foot in the car and the other in the hall. The elevator door bumped him and the insistent buzzing of the safety system drove him out of the car. Dietz’s body was standing in the hall but his mind was elsewhere.

Tom Oswald had not told Jerry Swanson that he had scanned the fingerprint he’d lifted from the
China Sea
into AFIS, and he had not told him about his conversations with Monte Pike and Max Dietz, but the day after his meeting with Mary Garrett, he decided to bring his partner up to speed. He didn’t get the chance right away, because they were called to a traffic accident minutes after they got in their car. As soon as they were able to leave the accident scene, the dispatcher sent them to deal with a domestic beef. Swanson knew the husband and was able to talk him down before any real damage was done. After a whispered conference, the officers decided to leave the now weepy couple in each other’s embrace rather than make an arrest. Soon after they drove off, Oswald confessed.

“Fuck, Tom, the chief told you to forget about that fucking ship,” Swanson said.

“I said I’m sorry.”

Swanson looked away. He was very upset. They drove in silence for a while.

“Do you think we’ll have to testify?” Swanson asked.

“We might,” Oswald answered.

“I wish you’d talked to me before you did anything. I’m involved too.”

“You’re right. I was just pissed off by the way that asshole from Homeland Security treated us. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Amen to that.”

“If we do have to testify, we’ll just tell what happened. The whole thing stinks, and I’d love to expose the bastards who pulled this off.”

“Amen to that, too.”

“Anyway, it’s out of our hands now, and I’m sort of relieved that the ship is someone else’s problem.”

The next hour was quiet, and Oswald was starting to think that they were going to have it easy until their shift ended. Then dispatch sent them to an all-night convenience store/gas station on a deserted stretch of road near a group of rental cabins. The cabins were on a river that was heavily fished in summer, but there were few people around now that winter was creeping in.

Dispatch had told them to contact Jeff Costner, a store customer, who had called 911 to report that he’d been robbed at gunpoint in the parking lot of the store. He said he had not been injured, but the dispatcher said that Mr. Costner sounded very frightened. A cop working a small jurisdiction like Shelby knew every square inch of his beat and everyone in it. Oswald guessed that Costner must be a fisherman who was staying in one of the cabins, because he’d never heard of him.

The cabins and the convenience store were owned by Jed Truffant and his wife, Tiffany. The couple made their nut during tourist season and turned a small profit out of season. They were never going to get rich off the store, but they both loved to fish and seemed content with what they had. They were regular churchgoers and compassionate people, so Oswald assumed they would be comforting Mr. Costner in the warmth of the store. That’s why he was surprised to see a man in a windbreaker sitting on the curb outside the store with his head resting in his hands.

Swanson parked a few spots from the man, and the officers got out.

“Mr. Costner?” Tom asked as he walked in front of the patrol vehicle. The man stood up and smiled. When the officers were a few steps away, he pulled a coal black Glock 37 handgun out of his jacket and shot Swanson between the eyes. Oswald froze. Two bullets spiraled into his chest before he could reach for his weapon. The killer’s next bullet blew through his forehead, and he was dead when he hit the asphalt.

The door to the store opened, and the blond man who had identified himself as Arn Belson of Homeland Security at the
China Sea
walked out. He had hidden behind the counter next to the body of Tiffany Truffant when he saw the patrol car pull into the lot because he was worried that the officers would recognize him from the
China Sea
. Belson studied the officers.

“It’s them,” he told the shooter. “Good work. Let’s adios before anyone else shows up.”

They walked around the corner to where their black SUV was waiting in the shadows.

Later that night, Jed Truffant would find the bodies of the officers and his wife when he came from their cabin to spell Tiffany. By that time, the killers were almost in Seattle.

Jack Stamm stood up as soon as Monte Pike, the heads of units in the DA’s office, Arnie Lasswell, and the three in-house investigators were seated around the conference table.

“We have a problem,” he said. “Max Dietz has disappeared.”

Everyone looked surprised. Then they looked at each other and began to ask questions. Stamm held up his hand and the room quieted.

“Max has been depressed ever since I took him out of the Homicide Unit after the
Woodruff
case fell apart. Another problem arose recently, and don’t ask me what happened. I’m not going to discuss it. But it made Max’s situation worse.

“The last time anyone in this office saw Max was Thursday afternoon. His secretary says that he seemed excited. He asked her for some subpoenas, and then he shut himself in his office. Around three, Max left the office, and no one has seen him since. No alarms went off on Friday. Then there was the weekend. He missed two court appearances Monday and another one Tuesday. His secretary called his house, but she got the answering machine both days. After the Tuesday call, she came to see me.”

Stamm nodded toward one of the investigators. “Bob went to Max’s house Tuesday afternoon. There was no car in the driveway, and he didn’t answer the door. I authorized him to go inside in case there was a medical emergency. The house was neat, and there were no signs of a struggle, and no signs of Max. So, my first question is, does anyone know where he is?”

Dead silence.

“OK, I want each unit head to ask your people if they have any information that can help us find Max. Most of you know Arnie Lasswell.” The detective held up his hand. “He’s heading up the investigation. Contact him if you get anything. Any questions?”

A few people raised their hands. When Stamm finished answering them, he ended the meeting. Monte Pike held back until everyone else had filed out of the room.

“You don’t think Max . . . ?”

The word
suicide
hung in the air between them.

“Monte, I have no clue about why Max disappeared or where he is.”

“He was really upset when you wouldn’t let him try the case, and this
Brady
thing only made it worse.”

“I know. I’ve been worried about Max, but I never thought he’d do anything stupid.”

“I sort of feel responsible. I’m the one who told you about my meeting with Garrett.”

“You had to tell me,” Stamm said. “Max sat on Oswald’s information because he wanted to win. That was wrong. It was his choice to break the rules, and you had nothing to do with it. Don’t beat yourself up because you did the right thing in coming to see me.”

“Intellectually I get what you just said, but I’ll still feel like shit if something bad has happened to Max because of something I did.”

Great generals shone on the battlefield, Olympic athletes excelled on their playing fields, and Mary Garrett knew she had few equals in a court of law. She was smarter and better prepared than almost every lawyer she’d gone up against, and she truly believed that her work ethic and mental agility were second to none. When she strode through the doors of the Honorable Herbert Brandenburg’s court, Mary appeared to be a force of nature, but this time, unlike almost every other time she had gone into battle, she was radiating a confidence she did not feel.

Monte Pike had filed motions
in limine
to keep out all evidence concerning the
China Sea
. Two days ago, her investigator had come into her office shortly after eleven in the morning and told her that Tom Oswald and Jerry Swanson, the eyewitnesses to the events on the ship, were dead. Without Oswald and Swanson, she had little chance of defeating Pike’s motions.

Mary hadn’t told her client, but Judge Brandenburg’s decision on Pike’s motions
in limine
would have a huge impact on Mary’s ability to win the case. In the motions, Pike was asking the judge for a pretrial decision limiting the evidence the defense would be allowed to introduce at trial concerning the murders on board the
China Sea
, the substance found in the hold, and John Finley’s connection to the ship. With that evidence, Mary could present the jurors with an alternative explanation for Finley’s murder. Without it, Sarah’s chances of an acquittal were slim.

From the outset, Mary had had grave misgivings when she had learned that Sarah’s case had been assigned to the elderly jurist. Brandenburg had a full head of snow white hair, a Roman nose, and piercing blue eyes that gave him the appearance of high intelligence, but everyone in the legal community knew that there was a dim bulb beneath the elegant hairdo. Brandenburg had a massive inferiority complex and was loath to admit his inability to understand legal issues. He frequently took the easy way out by ruling for the State in criminal cases, banking on the low reversal rates in appellate courts. He also disliked complicated trials, which Sarah’s would become if Mary was allowed to introduce evidence of clandestine government operations or drug smuggling by international drug cartels.

Monte Pike sounded almost apologetic as he outlined to Judge Brandenburg the arguments that would destroy Sarah Woodruff’s chance for an acquittal. The young DA’s logic was impeccable and left no doubt that his positions were correct. Even Mary was momentarily hypnotized by Pike.

As soon as Pike finished his opening statement, Judge Brandenburg asked Mary for her rebuttal.

“I’d prefer to put on my evidence, Your Honor. The evidence will establish a clear connection between what happened on the
China Sea
and the murder of Mr. Finley,” Mary said with more conviction than she really felt.

“Very well. I’ve read the memos concerning the DVD that led to the dismissal of Ms. Woodruff’s first case, and I see Judge Nesbit is in court. Let’s hear evidence relevant to Mr. Pike’s motion to keep evidence of the DVD from the jury so Judge Nesbit can go about his business,” Brandenburg said.

As soon as Nesbit took the oath, Mary asked him a series of questions that established his profession and his connection to Sa-rah’s case.

“Judge Nesbit, please tell Judge Brandenburg what happened in your office prior to court beginning on the last day of Sarah Woodruff’s trial,” Garrett said.

“I arrived at work an hour or so before court was to begin in order to read over some materials that had been submitted by the parties and found a DVD that had been left for me with a note stating that the DVD contained conclusive proof that John Finley was alive.”

Mary turned to the bailiff. “Can you give the judge defendant’s Exhibit 1, please?”

The bailiff handed a clear plastic envelope containing the note to the witness.

“Can you identify this object for the record, Judge?”

“That’s the note that accompanied the DVD.”

“Does it appear to have been typed on a computer?”

“Yes.”

“Please give the judge Exhibit 2,” Mary told the bailiff.

“Can you identify Exhibit 2?” she asked Nesbit.

“It’s the DVD I found in my office.”

“Your Honor, I’d like to play the DVD for you,” Garrett said.

“No objection,” Pike said.

Judge Brandenburg watched intently as John Finley said, “My name is John Finley, and I’m sorry for the confusion my disappearance has caused. Sarah, if you’re in the room when they play this, I can’t tell you how awful I feel about everything that’s happened to you. Unfortunately, I could not reveal the fact that I am alive and well until today. I hope this proof that I am alive will end your ordeal.”

“Was the case dismissed with prejudice as a result of this evidence that Mr. Finley had not been murdered?” Mary asked.

“Yes,” Judge Nesbit answered.

“I have no further questions of the judge,” Mary said.

“Good morning, Judge Nesbit,” Monte Pike said with a calm smile. “Is there any place on the DVD where Mr. Finley says that he works for any agency of the United States government?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“And there’s nothing on the DVD that explains why Mr. Finley didn’t come forward sooner, is there?”

“No.”

“He could have been on vacation or doing consulting work in some faraway place where communication was difficult?”

“I have no way of answering that question,” Nesbit said.

Pike smiled at the witness. “Thank you. I have nothing further to ask of the witness,” he said.

“No further witnesses, Your Honor,” Mary said.

Pike started to speak, but Brandenburg held up his hand. “Ms. Garrett, why do you think this DVD has any bearing on this new case against your client?”

“It’s evidence that John Finley was engaged in some activity important enough to keep him from coming to the aid of an innocent woman who was facing the death penalty.”

“Yes, I can accept that, but do you have any evidence that the reason for his lack of action had anything to do with this new charge?”

With Oswald and Swanson as witnesses, Mary would have had a fighting chance to show a connection, but the fingerprint evidence was meaningless without evidence that proved that Finley had been on a ship smuggling hashish.

“I’ve attempted to gather that evidence, but the CIA and other government intelligence agencies have refused to honor our requests for information about the
China Sea
and Mr. Finley’s involvement with the ship.”

“I can’t do anything about that, Ms. Garrett. I have no jurisdiction over the federal government.”

“I’ve issued subpoenas to Homeland Security for information about Agent Belson and the
China Sea
. They’ve refused to comply. You can hold a hearing and compel them to produce this evidence.

“I’ve also requested the payroll records of Homeland Security and the CIA and the personnel records of the agencies, and they’ve asserted national security as a reason for refusing the request.”

“Your Honor, if I may,” Pike interrupted, “Assistant United States Attorney Avery Bishop is in court to address these issues.”

An African American in a severe gray business suit, carrying a black attaché case, stood up in the back of the room. He was bald and sported a thin salt-and-pepper mustache. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on a small, broad nose magnified his brown eyes.

“May I approach, Your Honor?”

“Yes, yes. Come through the bar of the court, Mr. Bishop.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Bishop handed a thick stack of papers to the clerk and an identical stack to Mary Garrett. “I’ve just handed the clerk and Ms. Garrett a motion to quash the subpoenas Ms. Garrett prepared, along with a memorandum of law. The United States government is asserting the state-secrets privilege as a bar to any inquiries Ms. Garrett might make on behalf of her client concerning a ship allegedly named the
China Sea
, Mr. John Finley, Mr. Arn Belson, and any persons or objects allegedly connected to this ship in any way. Supporting our motion is a declaration from the director of National Intelligence.”

“We don’t deal with many state secrets in the Multnomah County Circuit Court,” Judge Brandenburg said with a chuckle. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that privilege.”

Bishop smiled back. “Not to worry, Your Honor. I’m here to enlighten you. The state-secrets privilege is a common-law evidentiary privilege that permits the government to bar the disclosure of information if there is a reasonable danger that disclosure will expose matters which, in the interests of national security, should not be exposed. I’m here to make a formal claim of privilege on behalf of Homeland Security, the National Security Agency, the Defense Intelligence Agency, and the Central Intelligence Agency—the organizations on which Ms. Garrett served subpoenas.”

Mary Garrett stood. “Your Honor, it appears that Mr. Bishop is conceding the existence of an intelligence operation involving hashish and the
China Sea
.”

“If I may?” Bishop asked the judge.

“Go ahead, Mr. Bishop.”

“The privilege was first asserted in 1953 in
United States v. Reynolds
. In that case, the widows of three crew members of a B-29 Superfortress bomber that crashed in 1948 sought accident reports on the crash but were told that the release of these details would threaten national security by revealing the bomber’s top-secret mission. The United States Supreme Court held that the executive branch could bar evidence from the court if it deemed that its release would impair national security.”

“If I recall correctly, Your Honor,” Mary said, “in 1996, the accident reports were declassified and released and were found to contain no secret information. They did, however, contain information about the poor condition of the aircraft that would have compromised the Air Force’s case. It seems to me that the privilege is being invoked here to cover up the involvement of the United States government in drug smuggling, and that is not a legitimate use of the privilege.”

“Your Honor,” Pike said, “the defendant has not established that any drugs were on the ship.”

“We would be able to prove that there was hashish on board if I were able to subpoena the records concerning this matter,” Mary said.

“Your Honor,” Bishop answered, “the assertion of the privilege bars any discussion of this matter in this court. It is privileged and simply may not be discussed.”

“And rightly so,” Judge Brandenburg said as he skimmed the memo. “You can’t let foreign powers and terrorists get the records you seek, Ms. Garrett. I’m not letting you go on a fishing expedition when it might compromise national security.”

“Judge Brandenburg,” Mary said, “I don’t believe that the state-secrets privilege applies to criminal cases. It’s a rule of civil procedure.”

“The type of case makes no difference, Your Honor,” Bishop argued. “The purpose of the rule is to keep our nation’s enemies from learning secrets that could undermine the security of the United States of America.”

“This is a death-penalty case, Your Honor,” Mary said. “My client may die without the evidence we seek.”

“Death-penalty cases are governed by the same rules of evidence that are used in shoplifting cases, Ms. Garrett. Mr. Pike’s motions will be allowed, and I will not permit you to introduce any evidence or testimony about the
China Sea
.”

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