Wrongful Convictions, page 16
After their reenactment they headed into town and split a pizza at Benson’s. A cold front had blown through, and the temperature had dropped about twenty degrees. A cold wind blew off the lake. It was the first pizza Marcel had eaten in a long long time. He pondered it a moment, for sure the first pizza he had since moving to Minnesota. Jarvis strictly forbid it, but now that he was the Champion he could take some liberties. And besides, he wouldn’t be fighting for at least six months. First he had indulged on a bacon cheeseburger from Burger King for lunch and now pizza for dinner. Damn, he thought. This is complacency creeping in. Tomorrow I am back to work.
While they ate neither of them noticed the short stocky Native with the thick mustache come in and take a seat at the bar.
“So what do you think?” Marcel asked Shannon. Pausing from the pizza to take a drink.
“I think it would have been really easy for a fourteen year old kid to misidentify someone in that scenario,” Shannon admitted.
Marcel nodded his head, though inside he had mixed emotions about her response.
“So why is it you thought it was Ken all those years ago?” Shannon asked, stretching her back.
“I think we have to go back and talk to Joanne and figure out what other info she might have on this whole thing. I mean, this is a lot of history and I am not sure I want to be a part of this. To be honest I am not sure I am even going to continue at St. Stevens.” Marcel intentionally ducked her question. He wondered what she was thinking when he dodged these questions. She never pressed, and he assumed she was being polite, not wanting to open old wounds any deeper.
The mustached man had moved from the bar to a table near enough to hear their conversation. But neither Shannon nor Marcel noticed.
“That makes sense, I guess. Anything more you need to do here?” Shannon took a drink of her beer.
“Leech Lake is a small place, everyone knows everyone else. No one ever talked about Ken being innocent and more importantly, no one ever talked about someone else pulling the trigger.” This bothered him as much as his own conscience did.
“Maybe an out of towner?” Shannon suggested.
“I think I know the man to talk to.” Marcel looked at her.
He thought about the Chairman. He seemed like a big windbag but he also had his finger on the pulse around here..
“The Chairman?” Shannon asked.
“That’s right.” He pulled out his phone and rang Tess’ number.
“Tess? Hey, this is Marcel,” He spoke into the phone.
He could feel Shannon’s eyes digging into him. He shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t spend a lot of time making small talk with Tess. She agreed to put the Chairman in touch with Marcel.
“By the way, who is this Tess woman?” Wow, is she jealous? Marcel thought.
“My brother’s girlfriend, or ex girlfriend?” Marcel answered earnestly.
“Oh, I see.”
Marcel could tell that Shannon was now very interested in meeting Tess..
The pizza was a decadent feast Marcel hadn’t indulged in for years. Shannon’s half was all vegetable, Marcel’s was loaded with Meat. Though he was splurging he still opted for the thin crust as opposed to the deep dish. This was the first step to battling his own complacency.
Midway through dinner Marcel’s phone rang. It was the Chairman. He invited them to his home on First Point Drive just outside Walker. Marcel quickly waved for a waitress who came over and boxed up the remaining slices of pizza. Shannon picked up the tab, and the duo hurried out to Shannon’s car. They still had not noticed the mustached man who had taken the sudden interest in them. He too left the restaurant and followed them out. His Jeep Cherokee was parked across the street by the car wash.
They were hit with yet another cold blast when they walked outside. This one was mixed with a drizzle only slightly above freezing. It was typical Minnesota weather. It had gone from sweltering to freezing in a matter of days.
39
The Chairman knew for a fact that Marcel and his squeeze were both full of shit. They had come to him about the school appearance but ended up talking about Ken Northbird. The guy they were looking for was named Travis Jackson. As far as Clifford was willing to tell them, no such man existed. Marcel hadn’t mentioned his brother or drugs and that was telling. Their lie hadn’t been particularly well crafted, and he saw through it. For some reason Marcel was holding his cards close to his chest and the Chairman didn’t like it.
Ken Northbird was a piece of shit as far as Bank’s was concerned, but a dangerous piece of shit. Ken knew things that could hurt Banks and the reservation. Banks wasn’t going to allow that to happen. Northbird was a loose end, and Banks liked things tidy. This asshole Northbird had been locked away for years, and he hadn’t really caused any problems. Northbird’s focus had been on screaming to the high heavens, and to anyone who had listened, that he was innocent. Banks had used some of his considerable influence to get more than one of his petitions for a new trial dismissed. As long as Northbird was chasing a new trial, he would keep his mouth shut about Banks. However now that Marcel Wright was digging around Northbird, Banks wondered if maybe Northbird had given up and was starting to run his mouth. If he was, Banks would have to solve that problem.
Banks wasn’t a reactionary, though. He was a planner. He was the type of guy who wouldn’t go outside to take a leak without a plan. He needed more information first. Bank’s needed to know exactly what Wright was doing and what he knew. Bank’s thought if it came down to it, Marcel Wright might be a problem that needed to be solved as well. Luckily he had just the man for the job.
40
The next morning Marcel awoke just before sunrise and headed out for a run along the lake down to the city park. The Chairman wasn’t able to help them much. He had no information about the shooting, hadn’t heard any sort of rumors, and seemed sure of Northbird’s guilt. The only thing that really came out of the meeting was that Marcel had agreed to return in a couple days to meet with students at Cass Lake High School as well as Chief Bug-O-Ne-Ge Shig School.
Marcel figured the best thing they could do was get their hands on the original case file and find out exactly what went on from the perspective of the original players. To accomplish that, they would have to head over to Duluth to the see the U.S. Attorney and public defenders who handled the case. Duluth was two hours east of Walker, and if Shannon was up, they would be able to get there before lunch, which would give them plenty of time to dig into the casefiles.
41
They made the drive in just a little over two hours. It was Marcel’s first trip to the Port City since he had testified in Northbird’s original trial. He didn’t remember much about the city or the lake. Entering the city now, Marcel was impressed by the size of Lake Superior. He thought the city itself was a really cool place, filled with character and charm. He sort of wished they had some time to just tool around and see the sights, but they had business to attend to.
Marcel and Shannon agreed they would split up; Marcel would go to the U.S. attorney’s office, and Shannon to the public defender's office. Ken had been represented by a public defender in the original case. Marcel thought it was important to compare notes. The public defender should have everything that the prosecutor had through the discovery process. If they didn’t, that would be one indication that something foul may be afoot.
The office for the United States Attorney in Minnesota was housed in Minneapolis.
However, an office staffed by a skeleton crew was kept in Duluth where the local files were stored. The office was in the Gerald H. Heaney Federal building off First Street in a plaza that was home to three government buildings. The central building was the St. Louis County Courthouse. The building to the right was City Hall, and the building on the left was the Federal Building. Marcel went into the building and filled out a request to see the file for US v Ken Northbird.
It took awhile for the woman working the front desk to retrieve the file. Once he got into it, what he found amazed him. There were several statements from witnesses that he had never seen before. He was surprised that he hadn’t considered there being other witnesses, as sophisticated as he thought of himself. He had always assumed he was the only one, which now seemed incredibly naive.
One statement he read was from Travis Jackson. He hadn’t known Jackson. Jackson was another member of Ken Northbird’s Bloods gang. There was more in the statement than Marcel thought he would find. It turned out that the police had been quite interested in a man named Antonio Eagle, but had been steered away by Special Agent Buckley’s star witness, Marcel Wright.
There were several other statements from witnesses that had never testified. He wondered if the same statements were in the public defender’s file. Even with all this new information, he found there was no mention of Agent Buckley anywhere else in the file. The more he read however, the less concerned he was about Agent Buckley because there were enough other avenues to look at. First and foremost was the original attorney assigned to the case, the one who had taken Marcel’s original statement and had steered police away from Eagle.
The United States Attorney responsible for taking Jackson’s statement had been Walter Carmody. Marcel didn’t recognize that name; he was certain Carmody hadn’t dealt with him, though he couldn’t remember the man who had. Marcel decided to check and see if Walter would speak to him about the case, if he was still with the US Attorney’s office. He photo copied several documents and put them into his file. He then headed for the area of the office that housed the support staff.
The U.S. Attorney’s office itself was much smaller than was the Hennepin county attorney’s office. It was home to only two attorneys and five support staff. This was the specific division assigned to prosecuting major crimes from the reservation. They handled other federal cases from Northern Minnesota as well. He found the secretary for the attorney that handled cases under the major crimes act; she was busy at work transcribing some document.
“Excuse me,” he said making sure not to startle her but at the same time get her attention.
The secretary was a heavier set, yet pretty woman, about his age. She had short blond hair. Marcel thought she looked trendy and professional all at the same time.
“Hi there.” She turned from her work to him. He couldn’t help but think she had a pleasant smile.
“Can I help you with something?” she continued
“I am looking for Walter Carmody.” Marcel attempted to smile back but felt goofy doing it.
“Who is Walter Carmody?” She asked politely and Marcel was certain she really didn’t know.
“He was a U.S. Attorney who worked on major crimes cases in this office fifteen to twenty years ago.” Someone around here has to know what happened to this guy don’t they? he thought.
“I have only been here for a little over a year, so I haven’t heard of any Carmody.” She looked apologetic
“Well is there anyone who might know what happened to him?” Marcel questioned.
“Maybe Marcy, she has been here with the office for twenty years. Let me call her.” The woman picked up her phone and pushed a couple of buttons. Marcel could hear the phone ring and someone pick up on the other end.
“Marcy, this is Jamie.” She paused and the jabber voice on the other end responded.
“Well I am doing just fine, thank you for asking.” She looked up at Marcel and made a face.
“No it’s good,” she spoke as some more jabber voice came through the phone.
“No,” she went on.
Seriously, woman let's get to it here. Small talk was maddening to Marcel in the first place and even more so when he was on a mission.
“Look Marcy, the reason I am calling is because I have a gentlemen here that is looking for information about Walter Carmody, do you know…” She was again interrupted by more jabber voice.
“Okay, I will bring him up.” She shot a smile at Marcel, and hung up the phone.
Marcel didn’t think he needed an escort through the public hallway to see another secretary and was beginning to think that Jamie might have an extra-curricular interest in him.
“Well it seems like Mr. Carmody is a bit of a skeleton in the closet.” She unlocked the door and came outside. He was instantly drawn to her disproportionately large hips, when she got around to the front of him he noticed she had a back side to match.
“Why do you say that he was a skeleton in the closet?” It was an odd statement and he wanted to know more.
“You know how old people are about dirty laundry.” She turned to him, and he quickly raised his eyes off her enormous back side and nodded his acquiescence.
“They use whispers when no one else is around, but would tell anyone who asks.” She laughed. Marcel thought it was comical as well, he had known a few old timers that did this.
They walked through the corridors of the office, finally reaching a bank of elevators. The girl named Jamie pushed the up button and they stood there waiting in the uncomfortable silence that ensued.
“What is it that you are working on?” She finally broke the silence after what felt like five minutes but in reality was probably closer to fifteen seconds.
“I am investigating an old case for the American Innocent Institute.” Marcel was not really sure how much he should be telling this woman. He had held his cards close with Banks, and felt he should do the same here to. At least until he spoke with Joanne.
“Really? Why?” She didn’t really sound like she cared that much.
“Claims to be innocent.” He hoped that this would be enough. He was ready to be away from this woman now.
“Don’t they all.” Her flippant response assured him he wouldn’t have to explain himself any further.
“You’re a lawyer then?” Aha, now she was starting to move her feelers into his personal life
“No I am a law student, at St. Stevens, but I am working for the Innocence Institute”
“I’ve heard of that. You guys use DNA to get people off death row. We haven't
prosecuted a death penalty case up here ever.” Marcel thought she sounded a little suspicious.
“We don’t just do death penalty cases. We take any cases where there is evidence of actual innocence.” He realized his words were making himself sound bigger than he was. He wasn’t really a part of the Innocence Institute. He guessed he liked the feeling of a strange woman showing some interest in him.
“St. Stevens, is that in Superior?” She redirected him back to personal information.
“No. St. Paul, this is my first trip to Duluth.” He lied omitting his trip to testify at trial.
The elevator dinged and opened on the third floor. There was nothing particularly special about the third floor. There were three offices that surrounded a short hallway. At the end of the hall was a law library that was shared with the county. There was one office on the left of the hallway that belonged to Marcia Olafson, or Marcy as the woman with the enormous back side called her, what was her name? Jaime?
The woman with the enormous backside knocked on the door jamb as the door was wide open.
“Marcy, I have Mr. Wright here from St. Stevens University, he has some questions about Mr. Carmody.”
“Send him in.” The voice sounded pleasant from around the corner.
42
A few blocks away Shannon was making little headway at the public defender’s office. The system in use for tracking files had changed drastically in the last few years and finding old closed files was a painstaking progress. What she had learned was that the attorney handling the file for the PD still worked with the office, but he wasn’t in today. She also learned that there had always been a suspicion around the office that the original prosecutor had been involved in some shady business. They had a ton of trouble with discovery early on then that attorney had disappeared under some odd circumstances. That was the extent of what she could glean from the PD file.
Fran, a lovely older woman with a lot of fire, came up and introduced herself.
“Hi, I am Fran Hinkmeier, you can call me Fran. I hear you are a law student looking into some old cases?” She was direct and to the point.
Fran was smartly dressed; clearly an attorney and a lifer at the PD’s office. For most attorneys life in the PD’s office would be depressing, but Fran saw it as a calling. Where public defense wore down others half her age, she was energized by it.
“Yes, Shannon McCarthy, nice to meet you.” Shannon replied.
“Come with me.” She wheeled on her short heel and quickly walked down a corridor to a locked office room.The name “Andersen” was stamped on the glass. Shannon instantly recognized Anderson as the attorney who represented Ken Northbird.
“Charles has been out for sometime. I have been handling his caseload; he has some medical issues to take care of. I doubt he will be back,” Fran said, unlocking the office.
Fran guided Shannon through the door. The office was in utter disarray. There were files stacked and strewn in every corner. There was only one area of the room that had any semblance of order, a locked filing cabinet against the rear wall.
“We are using the office for overflow storage for the time being. All of these files are closed; it may appear unorganized, but there is a delicate system in place until these get shipped to the vault.” Fran smiled a wiley smile. Shannon knew that she was full of shit. There was no system. With virtually no money for support staff, filing closed files was not a huge priority for the public defender's office.
