Wrongful Convictions, page 25
71
1999
Marcel was in shock. He had heard the pops from the gun but he hadn’t registered that it was a gun. He saw the man running away. He was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. He got about a hundred yards away and turned and looked back at the aftermath of the shooting. Marcel saw the man clearly. It was Antonio Eagle.
He looked at his brother again. He looked like he was having a seizure. There was a large pool of blood that was quickly expanding around Henry’s head. Marcel bent down on one knee over his brother, and he saw that the top of his head from just above his right eye was completely gone. There was a disgusting looking gelatin like substance that was oozing from the wound. Marcel started to cry and he felt like he was going to throw up. He stood up and staggered back. He heard a scream from across the street and Tess came running screaming the whole way. Marcel had no idea what she was saying.
Tess was also crying.
“Call 911!” someone shouted.
Marcel looked for the shout and saw Travis Jackson who was in the gathering crowd. He sat down in the base of nearby oak tree and put his head in his hands. He didn’t need 911 to know that his brother was dead and he was all alone.
Tess sat down next to him and put her arms around him and sobbed. They sat that way for some time. Crying together about the man they both loved more than anything in this world.
“I am so, so, sorry, Marcel.” Tess kissed him on the cheek.
“Why?” Was all Marcel could say.
It wasn’t long before tribal police and the FBI were on the scene asking him all sorts of questions. One of the cops, an older guy who smelled like death was knocking on his door, spoke.
“Marcel, I am Special Agent Jefferson Buckley. Did you see Ken Northbird shoot your brother?”
Marcel nodded between sobs.
Kenny Northbird was a member of a rival gang. They had gotten into squabbles in the past, one a couple of weeks ago ending in a fist fight in which Ken had beaten the living shit out of Marcel. Henry had been there and watched the savage beating but stepped in before Ken went too far. That was all the encouragement Marcel needed from the old white man to say that it was Northbird’s face he had seen when the shooter turned.
“Yeah. Ken Northbird shot my brother.”
72
Marcel hopped into Aristman’s Cadillac and ordered him back to Denver. He had no idea how in the hell he was going to get back to Minnesota. They had been set up, of this there was no doubt. All of them. He cursed himself. He should have seen this coming. He was sure the cops were all over Joanne and Shannon because of that damn car. He should have got out when he saw that car, but he had followed Shannon’s lead.
His phone rang. It was Tess; she had to have been the one who set him up. But why? Marcel was certain agents had tapped his phone; he needed to be cautious on this call. Marcel knew Tess had been working for Banks all along. But was she setting him up for Banks to either use him or have him killed, or was she attempting to buy her way out of jail? He had to find out.
“Hello” Marcel spoke.
“Marcel, it’s Tess, you have to listen to me. It is really important. Marcel you are in a lot of trouble. You have to meet me and I can fill you in. We have to get out of town in a hurry,” Tess huffed.
“Tess I am in Colorado right now,” Marcel answered.
“Are you with Shannon?” she asked.
“Yeah. Why?” Marcel wondered what she wanted with Shannon.
“Marcel, you can’t trust her; she isn’t who you think she is. I can’t explain right now but if you meet up with me when you get back I will explain everything, gotta go.” She hung up the phone.
Marcel figured from the phone call that it was Banks he needed to worry about. She was trying to lure him into a trap. She was also attempting to separate him from Shannon so that Banks could put him into a hole in the ground. If she was working with the cops she likely would have known that they already had Shannon.
“Take me down to the greyhound station,” he directed Aristman.
He bought a Greyhound ticket to Minneapolis that was departing in just a few minutes. Once on the bus he brought up Shannon’s number on his phone and clicked connect. Her voicemail picked up.
“Shannon, I am getting out of Denver. I hope you got out. I am going to run and hide. I got a nice payday from my last fight, should be enough to get me out of the country. Mexico, South America maybe. I want you to come with. I will meet you back in Minneapolis. If you are able to make it to the Greyhound station in twenty-four hours, I will meet you there.”
73
Tess was sitting on the sofa wrapped in a blanket. She was still shaking from the ordeal. Springs was upstairs. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but she wanted to get out of the house. The fucking house that was deserted with the exception of a few generic items of furniture. She now noticed that the television wasn’t even plugged in. She got up from the sofa and walked to the stairs. She looked up at the bedroom doors, one of which was now open. That’s when she heard the report from a gun inside the bedroom.
She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t try and figure out what the hell was going on, she just ran; down the steps and out the front door. She turned at the street and sprinted as hard as she could for the civilization at the top of the hill on Silver Lake Road. She sprinted so fast that she was so far away that she never heard the second gunshot that killed Agent Tavian Springs.
Tess sprinted past the bank on one corner, across Silver Lake Road paying no mind to traffic or the lights. A Chevy Trailblazer had to lock its brakes to keep from splattering her all over the pavement. Tess made a beeline from the intersection to the gas station across the street.
Tess was desperately out of shape and tired quickly, but survival instinct had kicked in and pushed her further. She looked behind her to see if anyone was following, but they weren’t. The street was filled with the bustle of the morning commute but none of them posed a threat to her. She slowed a little, feeling like she was about to puke, but continued running.
She entered the gas station, pouring sweat and panting so hard she could hardly speak. Her first call was to Marcel, to warn him. it was brief but she hoped she got the point across. Her second call was to Will.
“Will, I need your help, can you come pick me up?” She huffed.
“Where you at?” Will responded on the other end.
“Gas station on Silver Lake Road and…” She wasn’t sure of the cross street.
“thirthy-ninth” the Clerk spoke to her, overhearing the conversation.
“Thirty-ninth” she repeated into the phone.
“I will be there in about fifteen minutes. Don’t go anywhere.” She was certain Will could hear the panic in her voice. She was scared and couldn’t hide it. Even the clerk saw it.
“Do you want me to call the cops, honey?” The elderly cashier spoke with concern.
“No, no cops. My friend will be here shortly.
She had no idea who had fired the last two shots. She hoped it was Tavian, but she didn’t know why he would fire them. Her fear was that Eagle had somehow regained consciousness and been able to fire a couple more bullets at the agent who had saved her life.
Tess starting thinking about things and she began to cry. She had no idea how she had gotten herself into this mess. She had lived this life once before and had escaped. Now all of a sudden Marcel showed back up and the bullets started flying again. Tess knew that Marcel had to be involved. Agent McCarthy, who was pretending to be his friend, had told her as much. She had all kinds of questions for her about him. And damn if all this didn’t happen because she dropped that car at his law professor’s house. She desperately hoped that Marcel would get back here safely. She he was in a lot of trouble. But he was in more trouble. Tess also thought about Banks. For Banks to kill her meant he had to be involved with the drugs. Banks was making deliveries through the car dealership. He delivered a shipment to Marcel’s professor. Marcel’s professor had him working on Ken Northbird’s case. All of a sudden, a light went on in Tess’ head. For the first time everything came clear to her and she knew exactly what was going on. It was Ken.
74
Clifford Banks was in one hell of a shitstorm now. He had gotten to the sterile house an hour before Antonio had arrived with Tess with the intention of being there first-hand to clean up if things went south. Things had, in fact, gone south, but in a manner that he had never expected. Of course Antonio had botched the operation. He was a killer, not a thinker. He didn’t get the girl finished off and had gotten himself killed. That was fine. The agent, however, had surprised Clifford. Clifford was able to get a couple rounds into the agent and take care of him, but the girl had disappeared. She had taken off out through the deck and had left the door open behind her. He followed out that way but couldn’t see any sign of her. He had to be careful to not look too suspicious. He left quickly. He walked, passing a few houses before making his way to the street. The howl of sirens were fast approaching the house.
The cavalry is a bit late once again.
He laughed at the irony.
When he got to the street, he wasn’t sure exactly which way to go. He decided it would be best to head to the sound of the traffic and ended up at Silver Lake Road. There were plenty of busy places for her to hide in plain sight and her trail went cold. Better to be in a business section than a residential section. If this was a white neighborhood, a brown man might make them nervous.
He had left his car in the Walmart parking lot so as not to draw attention, anyway. He shuffled inconspicuously to the Eldorado and unlocked the drivers door. He got in and started up the car. His gas light was on so he pulled into the service station next to Wal-mart to fill up. He almost slid his credit car into the gas pump, then decided it would be better to pay cash. No sense having a record of him being two blocks away from the house where his assistant and DEA agent were murdered only minutes earlier. He took the nozzle out of its holder and began to fill his tank. As he was filling the car up, an 80’s era Firebird with a very large African American man pulled up, and Tess came out of the gas station and got in. He had to do a double take because he couldn’t believe his own luck.
He hung up the pump and raced into the store to pay. Luckily there was no line and he was quickly back in his Cadillac. The Firebird was stopped at the intersection, giving him just enough time to catch up and follow it out of the gas station parking lot and back onto Silver Lake Road, headed south towards downtown.
Banks tried to give a couple car lengths between the two cars so as to not make it obvious that he was following them. The Firebird traveled through downtown until 94 and 35W merged, and then it headed west on 94. The morning traffic was dying down, so Banks had very little difficulty keeping them in sight. The Firebird headed west on 55 to Wirth Parkway. Banks followed.
Eventually the car pulled up to Will’s house and the couple went inside. Banks parked a few blocks down and began walking up to the house. He pulled out the .357 Magnum revolver he had tucked into his waistline, opened the chamber, and replaced the two spent cartridges he had used to kill Springs.
75
Tess dialed Marcel’s number, hoping to get ahold of him now that she was in a place where she could sit down and take a breath. There was no answer and his voice mail picked up immediately. She hung up the phone and looked out the window. What she saw terrified her. It was Banks, loading an enormous handgun.
“Will, do something! Banks is coming and he has a gun.” Tess was getting frantic again.
“Calm down. Go upstairs and lock the door.” Will was calm and determined.
Tess did as her cousin asked. He followed her up to his bedroom and took out a .50 caliber Desert Eagle pistol from his desk drawer. He then took a 12 gauge pump shotgun off the rack on his wall that contained various other hunting rifles. Will was an avid outdoorsmen and had a very ample supply of guns. He slid three shells into the breach and racked the slide.
“If he comes in, point and shoot.” Will handed the shotgun to Tess. He then left the room, closing the door behind him. Tess rushed over and locked the door, then sat herself in the closet where she still had a vantage point of the front door. It didn’t seem long before she heard glass breaking, and then she heard two of the loudest gun shots she had ever heard in her life. The shots came from inside the house, but she couldn’t tell who fired them. She waited for an eternity; there was no sound. She waited for more shots but heard only silence.
The intensity was too much for her and she got up out of the closet and walked over to the door. She stood there with her ear to the door, listening. Her heart was pounding and beads of sweat were starting to form on her palms and her brow. The gun was getting slippery in her hand. She took her trigger finger off the shotgun and she wiped her palm on her jeans. She listened again and thought she heard footsteps. She unlocked the door and opened it just enough to peak down the steps. There was nothing. Then she heard the floorboards creak, and footsteps came closer. She raised the shotgun to her shoulder; it was almost too long for her small stature, but she managed. She held it up and felt for the trigger. The moment she saw Banks she was determined to squeeze.
The man coming up the steps said nothing, he hobbled a little when he got to the top and collapsed. Tess didn’t fire. She didn’t fire because the man who collapsed at the top of the steps was Will. He had been shot in the abdomen and was bleeding profusely, a trail of blood behind him up the steps.
“Will!” She screamed, dropping the shotgun. She burst through the door and went over to her cousin.
“Will!” she screamed even louder.
“He’s gone,” Will spoke, blood coming from his mouth.
“Will, you’ve been shot.” Will looked down at his hands and stomach, all covered in blood.
“I guess I was.” Tess knew he was in shock. She sprinted for the ground floor of the house, forgetting she had her cell phone. Her mind was racing in circles. She got to the house phone and dialed 911.
The 911 operator tried to calm her down, Tess hadn’t been the first person to call the emergency number. A neighbor had called as soon as the first shots were fired. The police arrived on the scene while Tess was still on the phone. They came in guns drawn and quickly secured the room before starting to work on Will. Tess was cuffed and put on the sofa while the men worked. A few minutes later paramedics showed up and Will was taken to North Memorial.
Tess was taken to the police station for questioning once again.
76
Shannon tracked Marcel through his cell phone. They were tracking the Greyhound bus on I-70 eastbound out of Denver right now. On the way out she had gotten a call from SAC that all hell had broken loose in Minneapolis while she was gone. Agent Tavian Springs had been killed in a shootout in St. Anthony. The whole operation had almost devolved into a logistical clusterfuck when two government agencies were investigating separate aspects of the same conspiracy. Lucky for all of them that Marcel had blown Tavian’s cover and had told Shannon about it. Shannon and Tavian had worked together to bust Joanne with all the dope in her car and they were able to put together a joint agency task force to clean up the mess. Shannon had operated under Tavian’s lead. He was a good agent and hearing about his murder pissed her off.
It cheered her up learning that he had taken Antonio Eagle with him. She learned that Clifford Banks had taken a potshot at Tess and her cousin Will, and Will was in critical condition at North Memorial Hospital. Banks was now on the lam. The bullet removed from the wall at Will’s house was a match with bullets taken from the scene in St. Anthony. Banks was believed to be Tavians’s killer. Tess was in custody and had started talking. As for Joanne, she had been detained in Denver after they busted Davis. Joanne had agreed to work with them the second Shannon and Tavian had her arrested.
An APB had been issued for Banks and it was only a matter of time before he would be apprehended. The only question left for him was whether the federal death penalty would be an option. The death penalty was an option through federal law even though Minnesota had not had an execution since the botched hanging of William Williams in 1906, over one hundred years ago. Minnesota was not a capital punishment state.
Joanne could anticipate spending her foreseeable future in prison. A search warrant had been executed at her place while she was in Colorado. The fruits of that search, combined with the drugs that she had been caught with in Colorado, were enough for the government to push forward a trafficking charge. Once the chemical tests were completed, they would finally have the connection to the prison ring and that would likely bring a RICO charge against her. Tess was in custody. Antonio was dead and that all but concluded her investigation. With the exception of Marcel.
Shannon could finally come out from the shadow she had been living in for almost two years now. But there was one more suspect to bring in. He would be the hardest arrest of all.
She would take great pride in seeing Ken Northbird walk free.
Finding Joanne’s source and rooting out the corruption on the reservation had taken a lot more work than either agency had planned, but they had been successful. It was mentally draining. However, she never anticipated how it would feel to get so close to people that she was investigating. Undercover work was dangerous both physically and emotionally.
Shannon had pulled off an Oscar worthy performance; she had gotten a monster like Marcel Wright to believe they were friends. It wasn’t difficult for her to separate herself from the part she played. Truthfully, it was more difficult kissing him. It scared her and made her feel filthy, which would make bringing him in all the more sweet. The FBI was her life. She believed in law and order. These were her strongest convictions and that trumped any emotion or feeling she could have for another person. Marcel Wright was killer, but he was also sincere and hard working. Maybe there was even something inside of him that could be redeemed. She didn’t believe that he was the same guy now that he had been then, but she believed that he had a price to pay.
