Wrongful Convictions, page 23
“Marcel, thanks for joining us.” Joanne sat in the passenger seat.
Shannon hopped into the driver’s seat of the car and started the engine.
“I don’t know if you guys have heard, but Esteban Diaz was freed this morning.” She paused, waiting for their acknowledgment. They both nodded and she went on.
“An important part of the A-I-I is public relations, similar to the US strategy in Vietnam. We want to win the battle of the hearts and minds of the people. We do that we gain influence over those running for elections; we can change the laws from the inside.” She took a sip from her coffee mug and continued.
“Following up Diaz with another big win would do as much for the institute as any case we have had since its inception.” Marcel was starting to see the showman in Joanne. It was a part of her he didn’t like.
“Therefore, we have to get going on Northbird. We are all going out there tonight; I have a visitation set up for you tomorrow with Northbird.” The words hit Marcel like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t expecting to have to ever deal with Northbird face to face.
“What are we going to meet with him for?” Shannon asked, as if sensing Marcel’s unease.
“You guys are the face of this case. You have to get in and get your hands dirty a little bit. Get to know the case from the other side.”
“What about classes?” Marcel finally found words.
What about the DEA?
“I have spoken to your professors. They all agree that the Northbird case will be your number one priority. You can turn in related work product for credit in your other classes.”
We are going to be traveling across country in a car packed with drugs. No way, I am not doing this. How can I get out of this?
Marcel couldn’t come up with an answer.
“What are the specifics?” Shannon asked.
62
Three hours later Marcel, Shannon, and Joanne were on the road to Florence in Joanne’s Buick. The plan was to check into a hotel in Denver when they got in. The three of them would make the trip to Florence in the morning. Ron Aristman would handle all the prison protocols. After the meeting Joanne would fly back and Shannon and Marcel, along with Ron, would start assembling the team in Colorado. They could delegate authority as they saw fit. Ron would sign off on anything Marcel needed. Joanne provided him with an A-I-I credit card to cover his expenses.
The trip itself took a little more than sixteen hours, most of which was a boring drive through Iowa, Nebraska and Eastern Colorado that Marcel sweated out nervously. It wasn’t until just outside Denver that he could finally catch a glimpse of the Rocky Mountains he had left not all that long ago and he finally relaxed a little bit.
It was just before midnight when the trio finally got into town and checked into the hotel. The room reserved was at the DoubleTree downtown, and they all headed off to their separate rooms. He was surprised when there was a knock at the door.
It was Shannon.
“What are you doing here?” Marcel was pleasantly surprised. He slid the chain safety latch out and opened the door.
“I am not going to sleep. Wanna go see what kind of trouble we can get into?” She ignored his question.
Marcel regretted not showering, but there was little he could do about it at this juncture. He grabbed a polo shirt from the closet and put it on while she was standing there.
“One second.” He excused himself to the bathroom where he took a quick shot of mouthwash and put on some deodorant. Shannon followed him in but walked past the bathroom to the window.
“What do you think of the mountain view?” She asked.
“Don’t know, didn’t look out,” Marcel responded, spitting out the mouthwash.
“Pretty dark, I couldn’t see anything.” She turned and walked toward him as he came out of the bathroom area.
“Let’s go,” she said, and lead him out the door to the elevator.
The two of them hopped on and took it to the ground floor. Their rooms were only on the third floor and normally Marcel would take the stairs but tonight he wanted to get out of the building as quickly as he could. He wanted to get out on the street and smell the cool mountain air.
They walked for a few blocks and found a nice sports bar adjacent to the Pepsi Center. It was one of the few places around still open at midnight on a Monday night. The football game had just gotten over and there were still several people inside discussing the game over their beers and mixed drinks. A group of college aged kids were playing pool at the only table in the bar. Marcel and Shannon took a private booth and waited for a server to come around.
“This is a dangerous case isn’t it?” Shannon asked.
“I think so. The mustached man in Duluth, my apartment being broken into, the possibility that Joanne is being surveilled by the cops,” Marcel answered as frankly as he could.
“But you’re still here?” Shannon asked him.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” It was something he had thought long and hard about.
“Are you dangerous?” It was an honest question and Marcel knew that she was asking about more than just this case.
“No, I am not.”
Maybe I am.
“Why did you agree to drive that car here?” Marcel asked.
“This is a big case, the stakes are too high,” she answered.
“What if that car is full of drugs?” he pressed.
“I know you’ve done dangerous things before, Marcel. So what if it is?” Shannon looked carefully at him.
“That is a dangerous move.” He shrugged.
“What about the tattoos, isn’t that dangerous?” Shannon pointed to his left arm.
“We never got to talk about this, but I think it is important for you to know. I know you know about the tattoos. I know you know about gangs.” He had a hard time looking at her, but caught her eyes once and knew that he was getting a fair hearing.
“When I was a kid, I was involved in some dumb kid things. I guess you could call it a gang. I mean, we got our ink, we did dirt. Yeah, my brother and our friends were a crew, maybe back then we were dangerous. But I moved on a long time ago.” He had a hard time holding back the emotion.
“Gave up gang life to become a prize fighter?” It was an honest question.
“A lot of people think boxing is violence. Nothing could be further from the truth. Violence is an expression of rage, rage has no place in boxing. Boxing is about control, violence is the lack of control. Boxing requires discipline, violence destroys discipline. Boxing was the entity that removed my rage and prevented me from being a violent man,” Marcel explained.
“So, you were violent before boxing?” she asked
“That’s not me anymore. Understand, my brother was the gang, he was the shot caller. I loved my brother more than anything. You have to understand, we weren’t terrorists, we were kids trying to survive and we did what we had to. Am I proud of that now? Absolutely not, but it made me who I am today. So....” he trailed off.
He hoped that Shannon heard his pain and the conviction in his voice. He was talking about something in which he truly believed for right or wrong. He hoped that she liked him all the more for it.
“Marcel, you know you can tell me about it, right?”
“Not tonight,” Marcel answered.
63
Marcel was awakened by a knock at the door. He looked at the clock and it was a few minutes after eight. He went to the door and opened it without looking out through the peephole expecting to see Shannon but found an older man instead.
“I am Ron Aristman. I was instructed to drive you to a meeting.” The older man was gruff but polite.
“I thought you were leaving at nine?” The truth was he thought he was going to be traveling with Joanne and Shannon. He had no idea who this guy was.
“Plans changed.”
“What?” Marcel was confused.
“You and I are headed to the prison. Joanne is taking Shannon to meet with a potential witness.”
Marcel didn’t like this sudden change of plans one bit. He didn’t know Ron Aristman from Adam. For all he knew this could be some kind of set up. Luckily Shannon was already up and joined them in the doorway of his room, which was held open by the older man.
“Good morning, Ron.”
“Good morning, Shannon.” He nodded back at her.
“You know Aristman?” Marcel directed to Shannon.
“Yeah, we met last summer.” She smiled.
“Did you know about meeting with a witness?” He questioned.
“Yeah, sorry, I thought you knew. I am not going to the prison. You and Ron are going to meet with Ken.” Shannon sounded distracted.
Marcel couldn’t figure how there could be a witness to meet with here in Colorado.
64
Clifford Banks sat in his office reviewing the file on his desk that Antonio had prepared. He didn’t like what he saw. Tess had been arrested for delivering the car. She hadn’t mentioned him yet or the cops would already be here. That was good news. He believed that she would hold out. There was another problem, however. Antonio’s name had shown up in one of Carmody’s files. If Wright and his cooz started checking into Antonio it would lead right back to him. Banks knew they were in Colorado right now. Antonio had just become a loose end.
Clifford knew Antonio well. He knew that there was no way that Antonio would ride along peacefully with the feds. Any encounter would be his last stand. With Blaine Auto having already been raided by the feds, the wheels would be in motion. It was time for Clifford to start anesthetizing everything. This was going to be the fire sale of all time. Everything had to go.
Banks thought long and hard. It would probably be good to isolate himself from everyone. Tess would have to be the patsy on this one. He loved Tess, more than any woman he had known before including his wife. But Tess had gotten high and mighty about his status as a married man and for political reasons, child support reasons, and alimony reasons he was not about to leave his wife. He wasn’t about to stir a pot that didn’t need stirring, so he had let her go. Really she had been the one who made his mind up for him. If she wouldn’t have been so damn haughty he wouldn’t have been able to kill her. It was hard enough as it stood, but she was a money pit who no longer gave it up so it was a move he could at the very least justify.
Tess wasn’t the only one. He had to get rid of Joanne, too. Joanne had no idea who he was, but he certainly knew who she was and with Marcel’s help the two of them were smart enough to connect the dots, especially if Northbird started flapping his gums to Marcel. He didn’t have a plan for her yet, but he certainly had one for Marcel. He was going to be joining his brother in short order and Antonio would be able to handle it all.
He called Antonio into his office.
“I need you to go to the cities to bail a woman out of jail. When you get her out, call and I will give you further instructions.” He looked at Antonio for a moment. There was a moment of sadness in his heart that quickly vanished. Antonio was a pure sociopath. He had no feelings, no remorse, and Banks was certain he really didn’t have a soul. A man born of the devil. Clifford had taken care of the boy at an early age. His mother was a drunk who couldn’t take care of herself much less this little boy, but the boy’s father had been a good man. The two had been good friends, playing on a basketball team together at Cass Lake and making a run to the all rez finals. Antonio Eagle Sr. had been a hard worker and had supported Clifford’s election as chairman. He had done a lot of work to help sway support amongst the Natives who were members of the unions. For that Clifford was grateful. Looking after the kid was the least he could do. Watching the kid grow from that scared little boy into the heartless killer he had become scared Clifford a little. He was still a young boy when he had nearly stabbed another kid to death for no apparent reason while the two were playing at school. Clifford had got him out of the shit and made things right with the family. He assumed at that point that his debt to Antonio's father had been repaid. Then after Whitefeather had been murdered, Antonio cleaned up some loose ends for him and Banks was now indebted to him once again. This begun a good working relationship where Antonio did the dirty work and Banks did what he could to cover it up. He particularly thought Carmody was a good piece of work. That had gotten several federal agencies involved, but by that time Eagle had perfected his craft and was nearly untouchable. However, he was quickly becoming a liability because of Wright and would make the perfect fall guy to take the heat for Blaine Auto.
The thought that the dealership was now offline had initially been a huge pain in the ass, but he was so close to FDA approval that he was fine with it. The illegal operation had run its course. It was time to shut down and go legit. As long as the feds believed that Eagle was the head of Blaine Auto the secret would die with him. Most likely he would be killed during his apprehension by authorities, but if he wasn’t, there wasn’t anything the feds could do to get him to open his mouth. A fact Banks learned long ago was that if you didn’t have a soul there wasn’t anything you can be tempted with. Antonio Eagle had no aspirations in life. There was nothing he wanted and very little he enjoyed outside of killing. The feds could try and squeeze him, they could offer incentives and plea bargains, and he wouldn’t take them. He didn’t give a damn about freedom or prison. Antonio believed that were people that needed to be killed in prison just as bad as the people he had killed that weren’t in prison.
Eagle would be more than happy to kill Tess, and Tess being murdered by Eagle would further bolster the belief that he was behind the Blaine Auto charade. He now needed to make a couple calls to his friends out in Utah to straighten out a little paperwork to put the icing on the cake for the feds.
If he played his cards right, Marcel could be dealt with at the same time. What Banks didn’t know was that Marcel’s business in Colorado was going to cause him huge problems. Had he known Benson a little better he would have known that she was a junkie and wouldn’t have been smart enough to avoid getting pinched.
65
Tess had sat in a federal holding cell in Elk River for a little more than four days. She had been arraigned and charged with trafficking illegal prescription drugs. The feds were still working on her to give up her supplier and her court appointed lawyer was putting pressure on her to do just that, but she wasn’t about to mention Banks and she didn’t have anyone else to give up.
She had gotten word from her lawyer that Clifford was sending someone to get her out. She no longer trusted him, but she was sick of sitting in this shithole. She had gotten word from the guards that her bail had been posted and she was going to be released within the hour.
When she walked from the jail she expected to see Clifford waiting for her, but he wasn’t there. Instead it was Antonio Eagle. Her heart stopped, and she got a sick feeling in her stomach. Antonio was not the type of guy who acted as a chauffeur. She got seriously scared but didn’t know what else to do.
“Where is Clifford?” she asked.
“Get in and I will explain.” He directed in a cold voice that scared Tess even more. She didn’t know what else to do so she acquiesced.
“You can call me Eagle,” He instructed in the same heartless voice.
She got in the car and they pulled out of the parking lot onto highway ten.
“Clifford Banks instructed me to pick you up,” He said not looking in her direction.
Neither of them noticed Springs follow them from the parking lot.
Eagle’s phone rang and he fumbled in his pocket, causing him to swerve into the next lane nearly sideswiping a minivan.
“Boozhoo,” Eagle answered. Tess was unable to hear the voice on the other end.
“Eyuh,” Eagle continued to speak in Ojibwe.
“Ninishi?” A silence.
“Eyuh.” He hung up.
Tess wished she would have learned her language better. She knew that he had answered in the affirmative twice but didn’t know what ninishi meant.
“Where are we going?” Tess asked.
The man didn’t answer for a long time. This really scared Tess. It seemed to her he was thinking of an answer because he didn’t want to tell her the truth.
“We are going to meet up with Clifford. He is going to tell you what the next move is.” His voice never wavered and he still hadn’t looked at her.
She knew that she wasn’t the knockout she had been at eighteen, but guys like this still had a hard time keeping their eyes off her tits. The little bastard at the car dealership had only conversed with her tits in the time she knew him. She had a thirty-five-year-olds body, and maybe she hadn’t lived the easiest life but she still had great tits and a dirty old scumbag like this was sure to take a look, that she was certain of, unless he had some other plan for her.
What could that be? Chopping me up in little pieces and leaving me in a ditch?
Her initial fears were on the verge of engulfing her when a calmer voice cut through the cacophony of fear inside her. Clifford would never hurt you, it said. Clifford loves you. Sure Clifford loves you, but you haven’t given him any ass since you found out about his wife? The fear voice spoke up again.
What man is going to keep pissing away money on a lollipop that went dry? This is the end, missy, this is where Clifford finally cuts off the pipeline and shores up any possibility of a leak.
No, this is crazy. Clifford isn’t going to have you killed. That would implicate him in this whole thing. He simply sent Mr. Personality so that he wouldn’t have to fear about the guy charming her pants off and getting a little taste of the goods Clifford himself couldn’t get. Likely the man next to her was a queer, and that’s why he hadn’t taken a peak at her tits. That certainly would explain the porn stache.
The fact that they were heading back to the Twin Cities gave her some solace. If Eagle was going to end her life in a blood bath, he would have turned off 10 onto one of the country roads outside Elk River. He would then drive her out in the woods or to some abandoned cabin. He wouldn’t take her to a population center where witnesses were abound and could easily identify the wreck of a car he drove and gave and them ample opportunity to see his face.
