Long Shadows, page 9
The woman looked near tears. “Oh my God.” She jumped up and said, “It’s this way.”
They followed her through a secure door, which she opened by holding a security card to the reader port on the wall.
They hurried down a long corridor and through another secure door. Laid out in front of them were a series of cubicles where people were inputting information into computers as other people sat in chairs next to them. Some folks were on gurneys parked against the wall. EMTs were standing next to some of them, apparently waiting for confirmation of their patient’s status.
“This is the Admissions Office,” she said.
Decker glanced around and then hustled over to a woman who was just getting up from her desk.
“We’re looking for an Alice Lancer. She was just admitted here.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
Another woman, sitting in the next cubicle, said, “She’s gone.”
Decker looked over at her. “Gone? Did she refuse admission?”
“No. Two police detectives came and took her away.”
Chapter 18
I’VE GOT AN APB OUT,” said Andrews. “And I’ve spoken to the Coral Gables Police. They have no information about a woman being taken from Harden Hospital by their people.”
They were in the car outside the hospital.
White said, “So the detectives were bogus? The hospital staff said their badges looked real and Lancer went with them.”
“At this point it doesn’t look like they were legit,” said Andrews. “What the hell is going on?” He eyed Decker, who was in the rear seat staring moodily out the window. “Any thoughts, Decker?” he asked.
“Clearly the lady didn’t want to meet with us.”
“You mean she faked the faint and then escaped from the hospital with the help of a couple of buddies?” said White.
Decker continued to look out the window. “It wasn’t just her and a couple of buddies. It’s not easy to pull something like this together that fast. You’d need resources that can act on the fly. And contingency plans.”
Andrews said, “You don’t think Gamma is involved in this, do you?”
“We didn’t get to talk to apparently the only woman at Gamma who can tell us anything. And now we’re out here and they’re safely back in their little cocoon.”
“Roe said they would provide copies of their records,” countered Andrews.
“No, she didn’t. She said corporate counsel would determine whether they could provide us anything,” corrected Decker.
Andrews started and said, “Right, I guess that is what she told us.”
“So don’t be surprised if that counsel tells us Gamma can’t provide the documents without going to court. And we all know how long that bullshit takes. The strategy of running out the legal clock has become pretty popular. And by then it may be too late.” He turned to look at Andrews. “And when you called for an appointment with Roe, they had a chance to prepare. Whether it was just Lancer or some or all of them, I don’t know. But they acted fast.”
Andrews looked at White. “What do you think?”
“I think the question is, if we can’t get the info we need from Gamma on a timely basis, where do we get it?”
Decker said, “Presumably the judge would have some documentation of the threats. They weren’t found in her house, correct? Or on her answering machine, if she even had one.”
Andrews said, “They weren’t. But we’re still checking her cell phone and computers.”
“Then we might have to get them from the court,” said Decker.
“I’ll need to speak to our legal counsel,” noted Andrews.
“I didn’t mean that court, I meant Judge Cummins’s chambers. The evidence might be there. And there are people she worked with we need to talk to.”
“I was planning to do that,” said Andrews.
“And pull any CCTV footage from the hospital. We might get a look at the guys who sprang Lancer.”
“Okay, I’ll get on that.”
“And while we’re in the area, let’s go see where Alice Lancer lives.”
“We don’t have her address,” said Andrews.
“Yes we do,” said Decker.
“How?”
“I saw it on her admittance form to the hospital.”
“You remember it correctly?” asked Andrews.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” interjected White.
“We don’t have a search warrant,” pointed out Andrews.
“She’s gone missing. Can we get by on a welfare check?” said Decker.
“I doubt that. And the locals do that, not the FBI.”
“She’s a potential witness in the murder of a federal judge.”
“Doesn’t matter. And to be clear, I’m not screwing up any prosecutions on a rookie Fourth Amendment fuckup.”
Decker looked at the man with a little more respect.
* * *
Lancer lived in the village of Miami Shores, a half-hour commute north of the Gamma Building. It was a village of well-kept-up single-family dwellings, a couple of small commercial areas, wide streets, and lots of trees residing along them.
“It’s a bedroom community for Greater Miami,” explained Andrews. “And also has a lot of retirees. But you could say that about most places in Florida. You ever think about retiring here, Decker?”
“No. How much farther to her place?”
“It’s the next street.”
They turned into the driveway of a small bungalow with stucco siding and green-and-white-striped awnings over the windows. A short, squat palm was planted out front. The grass was clipped short, and the flower beds didn’t have much in them. They got out, and Decker looked through the window of the one-car garage.
“Empty. Her car must be at work still.”
“We don’t have a search warrant, like I pointed out before,” noted Andrews.
“But we can look around, right?” said Decker. “Until you file for and get a search warrant?”
“Yes. On the outside. And in plain sight.”
They made a perimeter search of the yard and found that Lancer didn’t really make much use of it. There was a small wooden deck on the rear of the house, but there was no outdoor furniture to sit on. The backyard looked as uncared for as the front.
Decker used his height to peek into some windows but couldn’t see much.
“Can I help you?”
He turned to see a woman staring at him from the yard next door. She was in her seventies, gray haired, with a plump frame and wearing white sweatpants, a long-sleeved dark blue shirt, and orthopedic shoes. Glasses dangled from a chain around her neck.
They all showed their credentials.
She put on her glasses and drew closer. “The FBI! Has something happened?”
“And your name?” asked Andrews.
“Dorothy Steadman.”
“Have you lived here long?”
“Over fifteen years.”
“What can you tell us about Ms. Lancer?” asked White.
“I don’t really know her all that well. I’m long retired. So our paths don’t cross very often.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” asked Decker.
“I saw her drive off this morning. I believe she works in Miami.”
“Did she seem normal?”
“Yes, I mean, nothing looked out of the ordinary.”
“Have you spoken with her lately?” asked Decker.
The woman considered this. “Oh, a few days ago. She was taking a walk. This was in the evening. We chatted for a few seconds. The weather, that sort of thing.”
“She have many visitors?”
“Not that I’ve seen. I mean, occasionally.”
Andrews took out his phone, brought up a screen, and held it up. It was a picture of Alan Draymont. “This man?”
The woman said, “Yes, I have seen him. He’s been over to see Alice many times, at least that I’m aware of. I assumed they were dating.”
“Did they seem romantically engaged?” asked White.
“Not particularly so. I just assumed. Has…has something happened to Alice?”
“We’re trying to find out. What else can you tell us about her?” asked Decker.
“She lives quietly. She keeps to herself. Never spoke of having children. I thought she had something to do with law enforcement.”
“Why’d you think that?” asked White.
“I saw her getting in her car once, and she had a gun on her belt.”
Andrews handed her a card. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call. And if you see Ms. Lancer back here, please alert me right away.”
“Alert you? Is she in some sort of trouble?”
“Like we said, we’re trying to find things out,” said Decker. “Thanks.”
As they got back into the car White said, “So Draymont and Lancer were maybe a couple?”
Decker said, “Draymont gets murdered, and Lancer fakes a fainting spell to get out of answering our questions. This is not a dating issue. This is something more than that.”
“What could they have been involved in?” said Andrews.
Decker replied, “They both worked at Gamma. That might be the common denominator.”
“You mean involving Gamma?” asked Andrews.
“Not necessarily. But let’s keep an open mind, okay?” Decker added.
“It would be hard to believe that an organization with the sterling reputation of Gamma would be—”
Decker interrupted. “Yeah, go tell that to Bernie Madoff’s investors. And where’d you get that photo of Draymont?”
“From Gamma’s website.”
“And you need to file that search warrant request for Lancer’s place.”
“I’m on it,” said Andrews, hitting a speed dial number and putting the phone to his ear.
“And now, we go to court,” said Decker.
Chapter 19
THE FORT MYERS FEDERAL COURTHOUSE was on First Street. To Decker it looked like a lot of other federal courthouses he had seen, only this one had palm trees out front.
They cleared security with their credentials and were allowed to keep their weapons. They were escorted to the office of Ken Caine, who was the deputy U.S. marshal in charge of courthouse security. Andrews told them that Caine was a friend of his.
“We play golf together.”
“Does everybody play golf in Florida?” growled Decker.
“It’s one of the main reasons people come here, Decker,” retorted Andrews.
Caine was in his fifties, with grizzled gray hair, and his blue blazer and gray slacks rode well on his fit six-foot frame. He struck Decker as a no-nonsense, no-bullshit kind of guy. But he had been wrong about that before.
Caine shook their hands and said, “Damn, I can’t believe that Judge Cummins is dead. She was the nicest person you’d ever want to meet.”
Andrews said, “I know, Ken, it was a shock.”
“What can I do to help?” said Caine.
Andrews explained about possible threats Cummins had received. And also that Cummins had hired Gamma to protect her possibly because of those threats.
“What in the hell?” exclaimed Caine. “Why didn’t she alert us as to any threats?”
“You’re sure she didn’t?” said Decker. “I mean, not you but someone else here?”
“Any threat to a federal judge in this court is my jurisdiction. There are procedures in place. Judge Cummins has been threatened before. This is south Florida, violent gangs and drug smugglers abound here. And she had quite a few of those on her docket. We always protected her. I just don’t understand why she didn’t tell us.”
“Did she mention anything to you about any recent concerns she had?” asked Andrews.
“No, nothing.”
“And you didn’t know she’d hired Gamma?” asked White.
“No, I did not,” Caine said heatedly.
“Are you familiar with Gamma?” asked Decker.
“I know of them. I’ve been to some security conferences where Kanak Roe spoke.”
“Do you know his daughter?” asked Decker.
“Kasimira? I’ve had some interactions, but I don’t know her all that well.”
“Still, what’s your opinion of her?” asked Decker.
“She makes a lot of money.”
“About her professionally?”
“She was with the Secret Service, so she knows what she’s doing. Her father was excellent at his work. She’s, well, she’s more business oriented than he was. She’s nearly doubled the size of the firm just since she took over. That big office building in Miami? She bought that two years ago. Gamma has the top six floors and she rents out the rest. Makes a fortune just off that.”
Decker watched the man closely as he said all of this. Is Caine jealous of Roe? It sure sounds like it.
“Sounds like she’s a smart businesswoman,” observed White.
Caine said, “There’s more to life than money. She maybe needs to check her priorities.”
“Why do I never hear someone say that about a businessman?” said White.
“We need to search the judge’s chambers,” interjected Decker. “And talk to her secretary, clerks, anyone who might be able to help us.”
“I’ll take you,” said Caine, after glaring at White.
Chapter 20
SARA ANGSTROM AND DAN SYKES,” said Caine, introducing the two people in their midtwenties. “The judge’s clerks for this term.”
They were in the anteroom of Cummins’s chambers.
Angstrom was tall, thin, and blond with pale skin and a dour expression. She was dressed in a dark jacket and slacks with a white blouse. Sykes was several inches shorter with a flabby build and black-rimmed glasses. His dark hair was longish, and he had a pen in his short-sleeved shirt pocket.
Decker looked them over and came away with a first impression of grief, then disbelief, and, finally, fear. They both said they had no idea of any recent threats against the judge.
“How about further back?” asked White.
Sykes said, “She presided over a RICO case about eight months ago. Local mobster with ties to a cartel in Mexico. Two of the defendants threatened her in open court.”
Caine said, “And we provided protection for her until the case was over and for two months after that. Then we reevaluated the risk and concluded it was no longer relevant.”
“They could have just gotten around to acting on their threat,” said Andrews.
White added, “We’ll need to see the case files and related documents.”
Sykes said, “Of course, whatever you need.”
Decker turned to Angstrom. “Any idea who might have been involved in this?”
Angstrom looked alarmed. “Me? No. I have no idea. I mean, there was nothing about Judge Cummins’s cases that was all that different from the other judges here.”
Caine said, “That’s true.”
“How many judges are there?” asked Decker.
Caine said, “Over a dozen active district court judges, the same number of senior judges and over two dozen magistrates.”
“And they’re all kept busy?” said White.
“The Middle District of Florida was created in 1962,” said Caine. “The first new federal district since the nineteen-twenties. It was done to alleviate the backlog of cases in the Southern District. Now the Middle District’s caseload is larger. It covers a broad swath of Florida, both coasts to the inland areas. Fort Myers, Tampa, Orlando, Ocala, and all the way north to Jacksonville. So, yes, they’re kept very busy.”
Decker looked at the two clerks. “How long have you worked for the judge?”
Angstrom said, “I’ve been here nearly a year.”
“I came on four months ago,” replied Sykes. “The clerk before me got married and moved out of the area.”
“And there’s nothing on her docket now that might have prompted threats?” asked Decker.
“Nothing unusual,” answered Sykes, and Angstrom nodded.
“Has she had any visitors here that seemed out of the ordinary?” asked White.
Caine answered. “No, nothing like that. Visitors here are usually family and friends or professional colleagues.”
“And nothing since the RICO case?” said Decker.
“No,” said Angstrom.
“Where’s the judge’s secretary?” asked White.
“She called in sick today,” said Sykes.
Decker looked at Caine. “We’ll need her home address.”
He said, “Her name’s Patty Kelly. She’s been here for over two decades. Sharp as a tack.”
“Good, maybe she can give us some sharp answers,” said Decker. He looked at the clerks. “In the meantime, if you can send the judge’s current docket to Agent Andrews? Filings, motions, case summaries.”
“Criminal or civil?” asked Sykes.
“Both. People kill over money as much as they do anything else.”
“Straightaway,” said Sykes.
Caine said, “Should I post extra security over the other judges? They’ve been informed, of course, and I can tell they’re worried.”
Decker said, “I’m not going to tell you how to do your job, Marshal, but some extra guards can’t hurt.”
“Right.”
“Now, we’d like to see her chambers.”
Caine led them inside, and Decker stood in the middle of the room and looked around. It was large, befitting the stature of a federal judge: lots of polished wood, bookcases, a large desk, comfortable chairs. Decker looked over the photos on her desk. Several of Tyler at various ages. One frame held a handmade card with a funny face on it and a “I love you Mommy,” scribbled in a young child’s penmanship. Obviously, Tyler again. There were no photos of Barry Davidson.
In another frame were Cummins, Doris Kline, and another woman.
“Any idea who the third person is?” said Decker, holding it up.
“That’s Maya Perlman,” answered Caine. “She practiced before this court. Never before Judge Cummins, of course, because they were friends. She retired about a year ago.”
