Wild Justice (14 page)

36 Prior to 1983 the Multnomah County jail was an antiquated, fortresslike edifice constructed of huge granite blocks that was located several miles from the Multnomah County courthouse at Rocky Butte. When the Rocky Butte jail was torn down to make way for the I-205 freeway, the detention center was moved to the fourth through tenth floors of the Justice Center, a sixteen-story, state-of-the-art facility one block from the courthouse in the heart of downtown Portland. In addition to the jail the Justice Center also housed the Portland police central precinct, a branch of the Multnomah County district attorney s office, state parole and probation, the Portland police administrative offices, the state crime laboratory, two circuit courts and two district courts. Before Amanda could visit Justine Castle she had to check in with a guard on the second floor of the Justice Center and go through the metal detector. The guard led Amanda to the jail elevator and keyed her up to the floor where Justine Castle was being held. When the elevator stopped, Amanda found herself in a narrow, brightly lit hallway. At one end a telephone without a dial was attached to the wall next to a massive steel door. Above the door was a surveillance camera. Amanda used the telephone to summon a guard. A few minutes later a corrections officer opened the door and let Amanda into another narrow corridor. On one side of this hall were three visiting rooms. Amanda could see into each room through a plate of thick glass. The guard opened the heavy metal door of the room nearest the elevators. On the other side of the room was another steel door that opened onto a hall that led to the cells. A black button stuck out from the bottom of an intercom that was recessed into the yellow concrete wall. The guard pointed to it. Press that if you need assistance, he said as he closed the door behind him. Amanda sat on an orange molded plastic chair. She took a legal pad and a pen out of her attachase and placed them in front of her on a small, round table that was secured to the floor by iron bolts. From experience Amanda knew that it would take a while for the guard to bring Justine to her. While she waited Amanda thought about the last time she d seen Justine Castle. Four years ago, finding Justine with Tony Fiori had been a shock, but the incident was ancient history. There hadn t been anything between her and Tony, anyway. She was honest enough to admit that she wished that there had been but realistic enough to know that they had just been friends. The locks snapped, and a uniformed jail matron led Dr. Castle into the visiting room. Amanda studied her for the changes that time might have wrought. Justine was exhausted, and no one looks chic in an orange jailhouse jumpsuit at three in the morning. Justine s hair, ruined by the rain, was unkempt, but Justine was still beautiful, even under these trying circumstances, and the strength was there, even if it was being sorely tested. Thank you for coming, Justine said. Dr. Castle Justine, please. My father s in California. He won t be back for a week. If you want another lawyer to represent you, I can give you a list of several excellent attorneys. But you re a criminal lawyer, too, aren t you? Amanda sensed a hint of desperation in the question. The district attorney told me that you just beat him in a murder case. He thinks you re very good. Mr. Greene was being kind. I didn t win the case. My client was found guilty. I just convinced the jury to give him a life sentence instead of a death sentence. I read about what your client did to that girl. It can t be easy to convince a jury to save the life of someone like that. No, it s not. So Mr. Greene wasn t being charitable when he said you were good. Amanda shrugged, uneasy with the compliment. I work very hard for my clients. Then you re the lawyer I want. And I want you to get me out of here as soon as possible. That might not be easy. You don t understand. I can t be charged with murder. My reputation will be ruined, my career would be . . . Justine stopped. Amanda could see that she hated to sound needy and desperate. This has nothing to do with my ability as a lawyer. It has to do with the way that the law is written. In Oregon every crime except murder has automatic bail. Remember your husband s case? My father had to ask for a bail hearing when the DA objected to release. We ll have to hold a similar hearing for you unless the DA agrees to release you. Then get him to agree. I ll try. We re meeting as soon as I finish talking to you. But I can t guarantee anything. Justine leaned forward and focused all of her energy on Amanda. It made Amanda feel uncomfortable, but Justine s stare was so intense that she could not look away. Let me make two things clear to you. First, I did not kill anyone. Second, I have been set up. By whom? I don t know, Justine answered with obvious frustration, but I do know that I was lured to that farm, and the police turning up when they did was no coincidence. Justine told Amanda about the phone call that convinced her to rush to the farmhouse and what happened after she arrived. Do you know the victim? I don t think so, but I can t say for sure. I only had a brief look, and his face was so disfigured. Amanda noticed that Justine s hands were folded in front of her on the table and she was clasping them so tightly that the knuckles were white. If the mental image of the dead man could freak out a surgeon, Amanda was not looking forward to viewing the autopsy pictures and crime scene photos. Besides finding you at the scene, can you think of anything that would make the police believe that you killed the man in the basement? No. Did you say anything that could be interpreted as a confession? Justine looked annoyed. I told you I didn t kill anyone. The man was dead when I got there. Were you arrested at the crime scene? No. The two officers who found me were very polite. Everyone was, Mr. Greene and the detective, too, after I arrived at the Justice Center. They brought me coffee, got me a sandwich. They were very sympathetic. Then they got a call from the crime lab and everything changed. DeVore and the DA went into the hall and talked. When they came back DeVore read me my rights. Did they say what had happened? They said that they knew I d killed that man. They insisted I was lying when I denied it. That s when I called you. Amanda made a few notes. When did you get the call about Dr. Rossiter? Around nine on Sunday night. Where were you? At my house. Were you alone? Yes. Were you with anyone earlier in the day? Someone who can give you an alibi? No. I was away for the weekend. I have a cabin on the coast. It s been hectic at the hospital, and I drove out Friday evening to get away from everyone and watch the storm. I got home shortly before the call. You said that was about nine. Justine nodded. Where is the farmhouse located? Out in the country on a two-lane road in the middle of nowhere. I got really concerned when I drove into the front yard. The place looked like it hadn t been lived in for years. Justine looked unsettled again. Go on, Amanda urged. You were involved in Vincent s defense, weren t you? I assisted my father. And you ve been to that cabin in Milton County? You re the one who found Vincent s hand? Yes, Amanda answered softly. Justine took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. It wasn t seeing the body that made me run. Justine exhaled slowly and gathered herself while Amanda waited patiently. The farmhouse basement is divided in two by a cement wall. There is a room on the other side of the wall. When I walked into the room I saw the table. What table? Amanda asked as a sick feeling formed in her stomach. An operating table. Amanda s mouth gaped open. This sounds like . . . Justine nodded. It was the first thing I thought of. That s why I ran, and that s why I called your father. Amanda stood up. I ve got to talk to Mike Greene. He was a DA in Los Angeles when Cardoni was arrested. He wouldn t know about the case. Wouldn t DeVore have heard? It wasn t his case, and most of the action was in Milton County. Amanda rang for the guard, then turned to Justine. The worst part of being in jail isn t what they show you on TV, she said. It s the boredom. Sitting around all day with nothing to do. I m going to give you a job that will keep you occupied and help your defense. I want you to write an autobiography for me. The request seemed to take Justine by surprise. Why do you need that? I m going to be blunt with you. I hope I win this case and you go free, but a good lawyer always prepares for the worst. If you re convicted of aggravated murder, there will be a second phase to your trial: the penalty phase. That s when the jury decides your sentence, and one of the sentences that can be imposed is death. In order to convince a jury to spare you I ll need to get them to see you as a human being, and I do that by telling them the story of your life. Justine looked uncomfortable. If you don t use the biographical information unless I m convicted, why don t I wait to write it? Justine, I hope I never have to use any of the material you give me, but I know from experience that I can t wait until the last moment to prepare for the penalty phase. The judge usually gives you only a few days between the trial and the penalty phase. There won t be enough time to do a thorough job unless we start now. How far back do you want me to go? Start when you were born, Amanda answered with a smile. The locks snapped, and the door started to open. I ll come back this afternoon for the arraignment. While you re waiting, write the bio. You ll thank me for giving you something to take your mind off your troubles.

37 Mike Greene dealt with rapists, killers and criminal defense attorneys all day but always seemed to be in a good mood. He had curly black hair, pale blue eyes and a shaggy mustache. His head was large but did not seem out of proportion because he was six-five with the kind of massive body that compelled males to ask if he had played basketball or football. He had not; he didn t even watch sports on TV. He did play chess and was a rated expert during his days on the chess team at the University of Southern California. Greene s other passion was tenor sax, which he played proficiently enough to be asked to sit in on occasion with a jazz quartet that entertained at local clubs. Alex DeVore was a dapper little man who always dressed well and looked fresh and alert even at three-thirty in the morning. He had been the lead detective in two cases Amanda had cocounseled with Frank. She remembered him as being low-key and businesslike. The deputy DA and the detective were sipping coffee from foam cups at DeVore s desk in the homicide bureau when Amanda walked in. A Dunkin Donuts box with its lid folded back sat in front of them. I saved a jelly doughnut and a maple bar for you, just to show that there are no hard feelings over Dooling, Greene told her. Amanda was hungry and exhausted. Can I get some coffee? she asked as she grabbed the maple bar. We ll even give you powdered creamer if you ll plead out your client. No deal. I don t cop my clients for anything less than a grande caramel latte. Damn, Greene answered with a snap of his fingers. All we ve got is industrial-strength caffeinated. Then it looks like we ll have to go to the mat. Greene filled a cup with a sludgy black liquid. Amanda took a sip and grimaced. What is this stuff? If I ever find out that you gave it to one of my clients, I ll sue you. DeVore smiled, and Greene let out a belly laugh. We brew this specially for defense attorneys. Amanda took a big bite out of her maple bar to cut the taste of the coffee. What do you say to some form of release for Dr. Castle? Greene shook his head. Can t do it. C mon, Mike. She s a doctor. She has patients to tend to. That s regrettable, but you have no idea what s going on here. Tell me. Greene looked at DeVore. The detective nodded. Greene leaned back in his chair. Your client s been using the farmhouse as a torture chamber. Greene waited for Amanda to react. When she didn t, he continued. We found a man in the basement. Greene shook his head and the pleasant smile disappeared. Count yourself lucky that you ll only have to look at the photos. What makes it even more evil is the journal. What journal? Your client has kidnapped other victims. The journal is an account of her torture sessions with each of them. She kept them in pain for days. It takes a lot to get to me, but I could not read the journal straight through. Is the journal in Dr. Castle s handwriting? Greene shook his head. No, the pages were generated by a computer. Her name s not in it, either. It would have made our job easier if Dr. Castle had signed it, but she didn t. So how can you be sure she wrote it? We found a section of the journal in Castle s house when we executed a search warrant, earlier this evening. It contains a graphic description of what she did to the poor bastard we found in the basement. A copy will be included in your discovery. I d wait a few hours after you eat to read it. By the way, the medical examiner s preliminary finding is that our John Doe committed suicide by chewing through the veins in his wrist. When you read the journal entry you ll see why he killed himself. Can you imagine how desperate and how terrified a person has to be to kill themselves like that? The blood drained from Amanda s face. Did anything else at the crime scene connect Dr. Castle to the murder? she asked quietly. You ll get our reports when they re ready. Dr. Castle believes that she s been set up. Does she have a suspect in mind? Greene asked skeptically. Actually, we both do. You told Justine that the cops came to the farmhouse in response to an anonymous nine-one-one call. The farmhouse is a quarter mile from the road, isn t it? How did this anonymous caller get close enough to hear screams? Good question. I m sure you ll ask the jury to consider it. Come on, Mike. Doesn t this sound like a setup to you? The police just happen to get a call that sends them to a murder scene at the precise moment that the killer rushes out. You can argue that, too. Amanda hesitated before plunging in. You ve found more victims at the farm, haven t you? DeVore had been half listening, but the question got his attention. Mike s eyebrows went up. Did you get that from your client? So I m right. How did you know? I ll tell you that if you ll tell me whether you arrested Justine Castle because you found items with her fingerprints in the house. The detective and the DA exchanged looks again. Yes, Greene answered. What items? A scalpel with the victim s blood and a mug half filled with coffee. Amanda controlled her excitement. Was the mug found in the kitchen? How did you know that? DeVore asked. She ignored the question. Was there anything else with trace evidence on it? We found a surgical gown, cap and booties in a closet in the bedroom. They re at the lab and the technicians are going over them for hair and fibers. Now it s your turn to answer a few questions. How did you know about the other bodies and where we found the mug? Amanda took a sip of her coffee while she thought about the best way to answer Greene s question. Do you know anything about the Cardoni case? Mike Greene looked blank. The guy in Milton County with the hand, DeVore said. Amanda nodded. This was about four and a half years ago, Mike, before you moved up here. Dr. Vincent Cardoni was a surgeon at St. Francis, and he was married to Justine Castle. That s right! DeVore exclaimed. A Portland vice cop named Bobby Vasquez got an anonymous tip that Cardoni was storing cocaine in a home in the mountains in Milton County. He couldn t corroborate the tip, so he broke into the house. Guess what he found? DeVore was sitting up, and Amanda could see that he was remembering more and more about the Cardoni case. What are you getting at? the homicide detective asked. There was a graveyard in the woods near the house with nine victims. Most of them had been tortured. There was an operating room in the basement and a bloody scalpel with Cardoni s prints on it. Cardoni s prints were also found in the kitchen on a coffee mug. A videotape that showed one of the victims being tortured was found in Cardoni s house. Is this starting to sound familiar? Are you suggesting that Cardoni killed the people at the farmhouse? Greene asked. Before she could answer, DeVore said, He couldn t. Cardoni is dead. We don t know that, Amanda said to the detective before turning back to Greene. Not for sure. You guys are going too fast for me, Greene said. My father represented Dr. Cardoni. There was a motion to suppress. Vasquez lied under oath to cover up his illegal entry, and Dad proved that he perjured himself. The state lost all its evidence, and Cardoni was released from jail. A week or so later Cardoni called me at home, at night, and said that he had to meet me at the house in Milton County. I remember now, DeVore said. You found it! Found what? Greene asked. Cardoni s right hand. It was on the operating table. Someone cut it off. Who? Greene asked. No one knows. So it s an unsolved murder? Maybe, maybe not, Amanda said. Cardoni s body was never found. If he cut off his own hand, it wouldn t be a murder, would it?