The Verdict, page 33
“I’m almost there. I’ll wait if you’d prefer to come.”
There was a long pause on the line.
“I’ll meet you there,” Winston said in a huff, hanging up.
91
I stepped out of the car with my suit coat on, something I normally didn’t do. I usually took it off and laid it out on the backseat so it didn’t get wrinkled. But today, I didn’t want anybody to see what I had strapped underneath my arm.
Winston got off his motorcycle and handed me his helmet. “Any chance you’re willing to lock that in your car?”
I did as he requested.
“Mitch, let’s go for a walk,” Winston said, taking my elbow and trying to get me to walk away from Montague’s place.
“No, we’re doing this now. He’s probably already spotted us. I’m not giving him an opportunity to slip away.”
Winston released my arm. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I don’t see that we have another choice.” I walked toward the door, immediately shutting down any other questions Winston might have.
I rapped hard three times.
Winston seemed relieved and made as if to go when nobody answered, but I pounded.
“Nobody’s here, Mitch,” Winston said. “Let’s go. This isn’t a great neighborhood. We don’t want to be here long. Your car’s going to attract attention.”
That’s when the door opened, and I found myself standing face-to-face with Clyde Montague.
“Mitch Turner, standing on my doorstep.” He shook his head. “Who’d have thought it?”
“I want to talk with you, Montague.”
The man studied me before stepping inside with a sweeping motion as if he couldn’t resist the request.
“We’ll talk at the table. I just put on a pot of coffee.”
92
The room made me think of a permanent bachelor. There was a large television on one wall with a single chair in front. There were no decorations.
He’d invited us into the kitchen because that was the only place where he had enough seats for us all.
The kitchen table had four chairs, all different. One end of the table was propped up on a smaller table, giving it a slight slant. Montague’s coffee mug was chipped. He filled it to the top, took a sip, and then set it down on the table. I studied the liquid, wondering if it would slosh out. It seemed he knew exactly how much he needed to keep that from happening.
I could see two different takeout bags peeking out of the top of the trashcan as I sat in a chair. Winston took another, and Clyde Montague sat across from us.
“What do you wanna talk about?” Montague asked.
“Why were you following Barbara Sampson?”
He didn’t respond.
I studied him.
My instincts told me what to ask him next.
“Why’d you kill Thomas Guyton?”
“I thought you wanted to have a productive conversation,” Montague said. He pointed at the door. “You can show yourself out if that’s how you’re gonna be.”
I’d asked to see if there was anything in his expression. His face was a stone.
This guy knows something, I thought.
“Who paid you to follow Barbara?”
Montague smirked. “What makes you think she was the target of my investigation?”
Investigation? I wondered. What was he investigating?
“Was it Marc or Thomas who hired you to follow her?”
I asked this as a test too.
There was no response.
“Was Kinsey Whittington working for you?”
“Do you mean that woman I read about in the paper yesterday?”
“How’d you know her?”
Montague stared at me. “I thought we might have a meaningful discussion. You have something I want, and I have something you need. I suggest we make a trade.”
“What do you want?”
“There is in your possession a certain list.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Marc Guyton. You have a list of his contacts, though you don’t perceive it as such.”
“What?”
“That phone you found in the Carlisle home. I want a copy of what you got from it.”
I frowned. I was surprised he knew about this, but perhaps there had been a recent story explaining how Marc Guyton had been brought to the police. A reporter could have followed a thread from something said during Barbara’s trial and extrapolated what had happened. I hadn’t tried to keep it secret, but it hadn’t exactly been headline news.
“Even if I provide that, what good is it to you? The cops already have it. Everybody on that list is a suspect.”
“Those are my terms.”
“And what will you give me in exchange?”
“I’ll give you the identity of Thomas Guyton’s murderer.” Montague leaned forward slightly. “Not only that, I’ll give you evidence that puts them in prison.”
“Was it Marc Guyton?”
“Now, now, now.” He leaned back and folded his arms. “You must give me what I want first. If you don’t, no deal.”
“How do you know we won’t go to the cops and turn you in?”
“If you had something, you’d have already sent them here. You’re grasping at straws, Mr. Turner.” He slammed his hand down on the table, threatening to knock it over from its precariously perched position. Remarkably, his coffee didn’t spill. “That’s the only reason you’re here. Barbara is locked up in prison, and she’s not getting out for a long time.”
“Tell me who.”
“Give me the information from the phone first, and then I’ll explain.”
Winston leaned forward and jabbed a finger at Montague. “I suggest you tell him what he wants to know. If you don’t, there’s gonna be consequences.”
“What are you guys going to do?” Montague shook his head and laughed. “You, a sworn member of the bar, and you, a retired policeman or should I say a failed cop? You guys don’t have the guts to do what it would take—”
“You don’t know what I’ll do,” I said coldly, leaning forward. I hadn’t shown him my weapon, and I certainly didn’t intend to, but the ever-present reminder of its bulge underneath my arm made it difficult for me to not pull it out and demand what I wanted.
That impulse gave me pause.
The way it was tempting made me question what I was doing.
“We know you were working with Marc Guyton,” I said slowly. “And we also know you were working with Thomas Guyton. We do have sufficient information for the cops to bring you in for questioning. I have no doubt that with a little elbow grease, they’ll find what they need to put you away for a long time. I suggest you work with me because if you don’t, it’s going to get difficult for you.”
“Blackmail, that’s what this is.”
I suddenly realized my words could be misconstrued that way.
I’d proposed this without meaning that.
But I wasn’t about to back down.
“All I’m saying is that there’s a reason for you to tell me what I want to know.”
“I’m happy to do it once you get me the list.” Montague studied me. “Besides, you’re bluffing. You’d never try to blackmail me because it would be the end of you if I could prove you did.”
I shrugged. “Sure, it was a bluff; however, the Guyton organizations will get shut down.”
“Of course they will.”
He couldn’t help looking smug.
It suddenly became clear.
That’s his plan.
“You’re counting on it,” I said. “You’re going to capitalize on it, aren’t you?”
Montague shook his head, but the lie was obvious. “There’s ways to benefit from information without using it yourself. You’re not breaking any laws by giving me that information. I will, however, be selling somebody down the river. I’m taking the greater risk.”
I was positive now.
He was way too quick to explain why he’d wanted the information after I’d proffered my guess. He hoped to dissuade me of his true purpose. He would have been better off holding his cards close to the chest to leave me wondering.
Did he want the information to track down the other dealers the cops couldn’t find to get them out of the way? Or was Montague actively recruiting people from both businesses? Was that why he was meeting with Marc Guyton’s men?
Or was it something else entirely?
It doesn’t matter why he wants it, I thought. It’s interesting I struck a nerve when I hit upon this plan but not when I accused him of murder.
He was trying to take over the Guyton criminal empires. I was sure as I looked him in the eye.
He wanted to merge the two criminal organizations.
That’s what this had all been about.
He had nothing to do with how I’d brought down Marc Guyton, but he must have been close enough to those guys to have learned about Marc’s arrest shortly after it happened. Instead of running with the others, he’d seized the opportunity and killed Thomas Guyton on the same day, framing Barbara.
It had never been about Barbara.
He hadn’t been stalking her for either of the Guytons. It had always been about Marc Guyton’s and Thomas Guyton’s businesses.
He probably never stopped following her or at least had somebody else doing it for him. He’d been perfectly positioned to grab the opportunity I’d unknowingly created.
There was one potential hole in my theory.
If Barbara had told Thomas about her stalker, he’d have recognized Clyde’s name. Even if Thomas didn’t know the name, he’d have recognized a picture.
But the stalker made her wary of Thomas, I thought. I bet she never told him.
“Do we have an agreement?” Clyde asked.
I stared at Montague.
I had copies of what he wanted, but I wasn’t about to let Montague get his hands on them.
“No.” I stood. “Come on, Winston, we’re going.”
Winston exchanged a glance with Montague before standing while keeping a wary eye on him. I was glad Winston was here because I wasn’t in the best state of mind.
I’d come here looking for answers about why he’d stalked Barbara, but I was leaving with more than that.
Montague said nothing more as we exited his apartment and headed toward our vehicles.
Winston shook his head. “You better watch your back,” he said quietly. I noticed he was putting himself in between me and Montague’s place. “That guy’s gonna come after you.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the recorder, showing it to Winston while stepping to the side so Montague could see it from his apartment window if he were looking.
“I’m counting on it.”
93
That night I returned to my townhouse to sleep for the first time in what felt like a very long time. I parked my car in the garage, turned my lights on, and went up to my living room, where I set my briefcase down on the coffee table. I looked around.
It was good to be home.
Now that the Vince Cruz case was over, I could once again take up permanent residence in my townhouse. I didn’t mind staying in a hotel from time to time, but it was much nicer to be back in my own place where everything was exactly where I wanted it.
I didn’t have to wait long. I hadn’t even sat down.
There was a noise outside my door.
I reached into my suit coat, pulled out my pistol, and pointed it at the door. It must have just been a distraction because they came from the garage.
I didn’t know how they had access, but the garage door on the level below started to rumble open.
I backed into a corner that gave me a vantage point of both my front door and the door to the stairs that came up from the garage.
Four armed men ran up.
Clyde Montague was in the lead.
They all stopped when they saw my pistol.
“Wait right there, fellas,” I said, holding my Glock firmly with two hands, my finger tight on the trigger, Montague’s chest right in my sights.
His gun was pointed at the floor.
His eyes widened when he saw me.
He obviously hadn’t expected me to be armed.
I gave him my best smile.
“I’ve been expecting you, Montague.”
Law enforcement came from the kitchen, upstairs, and even out of a closet. In no less than five seconds, all four intruders were surrounded by ten officers and Detective Stephanie Gray.
“Weapons on the ground now!” she yelled.
I stepped to the side when Montague went to pull up his gun. Even though he was right in my sights, I didn’t dare fire with so many other people in the room.
I expected a gunshot, but somebody hit Montague with a Taser.
It was Officer Craig Mickelberg.
The rookie looked shocked for just a moment before it disappeared from his face, and then he was all business. I was surprised he’d gone for his Taser but was glad I wouldn’t be cleaning up a mess.
Montague fell as another cop kicked away his gun.
It only took the others a couple of moments to do the arithmetic before they surrendered their weapons. They were cuffed, and Stephanie identified the remaining men as belonging to Marc Guyton’s gang.
Three of the missing individuals they’d been looking for.
I refrained from telling her that Winston had known where these guys were for the last twenty-four hours.
“How’s Montague?” I asked.
Stephanie was already checking his vitals. “He’ll be fine.” She snorted. “No suicide by cop for you today, pal.”
“Still believe Barbara killed Thomas Guyton?” I asked.
“I wasn’t gonna ask questions about that weapon of yours,” she said, eyeing it closely. “But maybe I should. You got a permit for that?”
I slid it back into my holster and buttoned my suit jacket.
“What weapon?” I gave her a big smile. “Just kidding. I’m licensed.”
94
Even though I felt like it was relatively safe, I checked out of my house for the night. I still had my hotel room in Kankakee, but I stayed in downtown Chicago, picking a hotel with valet parking so I didn’t have to be alone in the parking garage.
I wouldn’t have said I was shaky after the incident, but I was definitely on edge. I requested a room on the highest floor they had available, and the first thing I did was throw the locks before I finally sat down on the couch in my suite and let out a deep breath.
I was now certain Montague had involved himself with Marc Guyton and Thomas Guyton as an outside contractor, taking occasional odd jobs with an eye toward taking over their businesses.
Marc and Thomas probably hadn’t known that Montague had been working for both of them.
After I’d told Stephanie my theory and played the tape of my interview with Montague, she’d been convinced enough to take a team back to my townhouse. I’d intentionally made myself obvious in the city, waiting until Winston told me they were following me.
After that, it had just been a simple matter of heading back home.
I felt like Barbara’s case was almost closed. I hadn’t yet spoken with Frank Ward because I was waiting for Stephanie to give him a report. After she’d done that, I’d call Frank to see if he intended to question the veracity of what we’d told him. If he did, I was planning on making a big stink in the courtroom, but he hopefully had enough sense to know when he was beaten.
I woke up at 5:00 AM, suddenly realizing I needed to be in Kankakee by 7:00 AM for my standing appointment with Vince Cruz. It was a moment before I remembered that the case had been resolved.
I fell back asleep and didn’t wake up until after 8:00 AM. I ordered room service, had breakfast, and after I was done, I finally pulled out my phone and called Frank Ward.
“Mitch Turner,” Frank Ward said. “I was just about to call you.”
“With good news?”
“Yes. You’ll hear all about it at the hearing, but we’re not going to oppose your motion for a new trial. After the judge orders that, we’ll announce we won’t be refiling charges against Barbara.”
I was surprised, even though this was what I’d hoped for. “Do you have proof it was Montague?”
“One of the men arrested at your townhouse turned on the others. We got his full confession. After that, the dominoes fell. They’ll all testify against Montague.”
“Do we actually know who pulled the trigger on Thomas Guyton?”
“All three are saying Montague did this himself, but they’re trying to save themselves. Apparently, he’s been positioning himself to take over both Marc Guyton’s and Thomas Guyton’s drug empires. That’s why he was asking for that information on Marc Guyton. And get this: Montague has been to Thomas Guyton’s apartment countless times.” Frank laughed ruefully. “Those broken cameras? Thomas did it so his men could move more freely through the building. He did himself in by telling Montague.”
There’s no way Marc Guyton could have known, I thought. It was Clyde Montague.
It felt like a coiled snake inside of me had relaxed.
“It’s done.”
“That took some guts, Mitch, going in to confront Montague. How did you know he’d come after you?”
Because Winston saw them all meeting together, I thought but didn’t say. I didn’t know where Winston had crossed the line in his surveillance of these guys, so I wouldn’t offer anything up until after Winston gave me the go-ahead.
“How could I not? He’d clearly invested much into this little power play, and because of that, I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to shut me up. He’d already tried once. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d come at me again.”
Particularly since I’d intentionally provoked him.
“How did you know he stepped into Marc Guyton’s place?”
