Ties That Bind

Chapter Forty-Eight.

Mike Greene's car skidded to a stop and he leaped out. Several lab techs were working in the back of a black van that was parked at the curb by Frank Jaffe's house. A photographer snapped a picture as Mike went by, and the flash illuminated the driver of the van. His head was tipped back. Before the light from the flash faded, Mike saw a jagged red line stretching across the driver's throat.

Lights had been set up on the front lawn where another corpse sprawled face-down. The man was dressed in black. A forensic specialist was peeling off his ski mask to reveal a blood-encrusted wound. In the entryway, two more dead men were being photographed.

"Mike."

Greene looked up and saw Sean McCarthy and Stan Gregaros walking out of the hall that led to the kitchen.

"Where is she, Sean?"

"Upstairs, away from this mess."

"Is she okay?"

"She's in shock. The first cop who got here found her sitting on the floor in the kitchen. Frank's head was in her lap and she was rocking back and forth."

"Is Frank . . .?"

"He was shot twice and bleeding badly, but the medics got to the house in time. He's at the hospital now. The doctors think he'll make it."

"Thank God."

"There's something else," McCarthy told Greene. "There's a dead man in the cellar. Amanda killed him with an axe."

"It's self-defense, all the way," Gregaros added. "The guy in the basement is Manuel Castillo, an enforcer for Pedro Aragon."

"What would Aragon want with Frank and Amanda?" Mike asked Gregaros.

"She was pretty shaken when we talked. I didn't press her," McCarthy answered. "We're hoping that Amanda can clear up everything when she's calmer."

"Shit. It's not fair after what she went through with Cardoni."

"She'll be okay, Mike," McCarthy said.

"I want to see her."

Greene started toward the stairs but McCarthy stopped him.

"Amanda needs a friend, right now. That's why I called you. This is not your case. You've got a conflict. Comfort her, but don't question her. Understood?"

Greene nodded then shook off McCarthy's hand and ran upstairs. Amanda was being photographed by a lab tech. She startled when Greene ran into the room. Greene stared at her blood-streaked face and pajamas.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded but the fear he saw told him she wasn't.

"I'm through, Mike," the photographer said, "but we'll need the clothes."

A policewoman had been sitting with Amanda. "Let's go to your room," she said. "We'll get these things off of you and get you warm."

Mike followed the women down the hall and waited outside Amanda's door while she cleaned up and changed. At the far end of the hallway, another lab tech was examining blood that had splashed on the wall across from the back stairs.

Amanda looked terrible. He couldn't imagine what she'd gone through. She was tough--he'd been there when she'd set herself up as a sacrificial lamb so they could trap the surgeon--but she was basically a decent and gentle person. Mike knew policemen who had killed criminals in self-defense. No matter how justified the killing, most of them were scarred psychologically from the experience.

The door to Amanda's room opened, and she came out dressed in slacks and a sweater. She was pale, and her hair was damp from a quick shower. Mike hesitated, not certain that Amanda would want to be touched.

"Can I . . ." he started, but Amanda cut him short by falling against his chest. He held her while she sobbed.

"Sean heard from the hospital," Mike said as he led her down the hall and into the study, where they'd have some privacy. "Your dad is going to be okay."

"I killed him, Mike. I lost control."

Mike forgot what Sean had said about discussing the case with Amanda. He stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look in his eyes.

"You had to."

"You don't understand. I wanted to kill him. I couldn't stop. My arms just kept moving."

"Amanda, listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong. The man you killed was Manuel Castillo, an enforcer for Pedro Aragon. It was him or you."

Mike was about to say something else when a man knocked on the doorjamb. He was an African American with glasses and a sturdy build, and Greene had never seen him before.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Greene, but I'd like a few words with Miss Jaffe."

"Who are you?" Greene asked.

"J. D. Hunter. I'm with the FBI."

"Can't this wait for later?"

"I've been informed that Ms. Jaffe had been kidnapped by one of her assailants." Mike stared at Amanda. "Kidnapping is a federal crime."

"What's he talking about?" Mike asked.

Amanda put a hand on Mike's arm. "It's okay, Mike. Let me talk to him."

"I'd like to question Miss Jaffe alone, if you don't mind."

Mike knew that he had no business being in the room, but he didn't want to leave Amanda. She flashed him a tired smile.

"I'm still a lawyer. I know how to protect myself."

Amanda squeezed his hand and watched as he left the room.

"Who called you?" Amanda asked as soon as the door closed behind Greene.

"Sean McCarthy," Hunter said.

"It seems like a funny thing to do, calling in the feds at this point."

Hunter laughed. "You don't miss a thing, do you? I heard you were sharp."

"So, what's this really about?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, not yet. But I'd appreciate it very much if you'd take it on faith that Jon Dupre may benefit from my investigation."

Amanda thought about that for a moment. "Ask your questions."

"Tell me about the kidnapping."

Amanda took a deep breath. Her kidnapper was dead but her emotions hadn't fully accepted that yet.

"I was captured in my parking garage a few days ago. The man in the basement and the two dead men in the living room took me out in the woods. They threatened to . . . to do things to me."

Amanda stopped, unable to repeat Castillo's threats.

"Do you know why you were kidnapped?"

Amanda nodded. "They wanted me to throw the cases against Jon Dupre."

"From what I've heard, they're easy cases to win. Why would Pedro Aragon have to fix them?"

Amanda hesitated. There were policemen, a senator, lawyers, and judges in The Vaughn Street Glee Club. Why not an FBI agent? Amanda closed her eyes. She didn't care anymore. After what had happened this evening, she decided that her best defense was to make what she knew about the club public. Keeping quiet had almost gotten her father killed.

"Despite the way things look, Jon Dupre may be innocent of both murders," Amanda said. "I'm certain that Wendell Hayes was sent to the jail to murder Jon and that he, not Jon, smuggled the shiv into the visiting room."

Amanda watched for Hunter's reaction and was surprised to see none.

"Who do you think sent Hayes to kill your client?"

"Have you ever heard of a group called The Vaughn Street Glee Club?"

"Yes, but I'm impressed that you have. Why don't you tell me what you know about them."

"I think Pedro Aragon met Wendell Hayes in nineteen seventy when they were in their teens or early twenties and formed a pact to help each other. I think some of Hayes's childhood friends were part of the group. Over the years, Wendell and his friends rose to power and they drafted new recruits into their club. If I'm right, there are bankers, judges, politicians, district attorneys, and police involved. How am I doing?"

"Keep going, Miss Jaffe," Hunter responded noncommittally.

Amanda told Hunter about the evidence that pointed to Senator Travis as the man who murdered Lori Andrews. Then she told the agent Jon Dupre's version of the Hayes killing and the evidence that supported it, including Paul Baylor's opinion that Dupre had been attacked.

"My investigator has discovered two suicides going back many years, which may have been murders committed by these people. But I think that the real reason they want to shut me up is that I filed a motion for discovery for the police reports in a multiple murder in a drug house that occurred in nineteen seventy. Here's the kicker: The drug house was on Vaughn Street."

Hunter's poker face was transformed by a wide smile.

"Weapons taken from Wendell Hayes's home were used in the shooting. The police concluded that a burglar stole the guns but I think Wendell took them. Hayes had an alibi for the night of the killings. Supposedly he was at a party with college friends who were home on Christmas break. I'm willing to bet that somewhere there is an interview with these boys. I think they were the original members of The Vaughn Street Glee Club and this is the only record that can point us to them."

"Miss Jaffe," Hunter said, "if you ever get tired of practicing law there's a spot for you in the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Then you believe me?"

"Oh, yes. I've been on this case for a while. Senator Travis had a penchant for rough sex and a thing for Lori Andrews. Dupre was buying his drugs from Pedro Aragon. When Portland Vice arrested Andrews, she agreed to work as an informant to help them get Dupre. The Bureau has been trying to break Pedro's cartel and we found out about Lori. During a debriefing, she told an agent about the senator, and I was brought in. We'd heard rumors that Pedro was connected to several prominent people in Oregon, and I'd heard Sammy Cortez's story about The Vaughn Street Glee Club. When Wendell Hayes tried to kill Dupre I started taking the story seriously. You've given me the last piece of information that I needed."

"To do what?"

"Again, I'm afraid I can't tell you that, not until we close the loop. But I can tell you that you've performed an invaluable service by opening up to me."

"Since I've been so helpful to you, do something for me."

"If I can."

"Can you take me to the hospital? I've got to see my father."