Spilled Blood

3

‘Mr. Hawk?’

Chris heard someone calling his name, but the voice wasn’t enough to rouse him. He sat on a wooden bench on the first floor of the courthouse near the outside door. The tapping of rain had a hypnotic quality, and it lulled him out of reality. He thought about his ex-wife. Hannah, the ferocious athlete, a runner, a tennis player. Hannah, obsessed with organics and gluten-free foods. Hannah, whisper-thin, all muscle, healthy, passionate.

Hannah did not have cancer. That was not possible.

‘Mr. Hawk?’ the voice repeated.

He dragged himself back into the present. An older man in a black trench coat stood in front of the bench. Water dripped from the fringes of his coat onto the oak floor. The man wore a gray fedora, which he removed to smooth his thinning silver hair. He wore rain-speckled heavy black glasses. He had a beard trimmed so neatly that he must have used tweezers to keep the lines precise. He was short, no more than five feet seven.

‘I’m sorry,’ Chris told him. ‘Yes, I’m Christopher Hawk.’

‘Michael Altman. I’m the county attorney for Spirit County. I believe you wanted to speak to me.’

‘Mr. Altman, yes, I do. It’s about Olivia.’

‘Of course. My office is upstairs. Shall we talk there?’

Chris trailed behind Altman, who was a compact, efficient engine. The county attorney was easily sixty years old, but he marched up the courthouse steps like a soldier, without losing a breath. On the second floor, he guided Chris to an office on the south corner of the building and closed the door when they were both inside. The office looked out toward the river.

Altman removed his trench coat and hung it on a hook behind the door. He wore a solid navy suit, not expensive but perfectly pressed, with a starched white dress shirt and paisley tie. His dress shoes weren’t new, but they had a shiny polish. The county attorney pointed to the chair in front of the desk, and Chris sat down. The older man slid a handkerchief from his pocket, which he used to dry his wet glasses. He repositioned them on his face, then sat and checked his watch and folded his hands together. His desk was empty of clutter.

‘You haven’t asked for my advice, Mr. Hawk,’ Altman began, ‘but do you mind if I offer you some?’

‘Not at all.’

‘I did my homework on you. You’re smart. Smart enough to realize you don’t belong anywhere near this case. My advice is that you hire a good lawyer from the Twin Cities and let him or her do the heavy lifting.’

‘I appreciate your candor.’

‘I’m a father like you. Four girls. If it was one of my daughters, I know that I couldn’t separate my emotions from my legal judgment. Neither can you. You are not a defense attorney, and even if you were, you’d be making a mistake representing your own daughter. Frankly, if you persist in representation, I may ask the judge to have you removed as counsel.’

‘I understand your concerns, Mr. Altman,’ Chris replied. ‘I haven’t made any decisions about outside counsel yet. Right now, I’m just trying to figure out what happened on Friday night.’

‘Unfortunately, the chain of events is pretty clear,’ Altman said.

‘I’m not so sure.’

Altman swiveled in his leather chair. He pinched his gray beard. ‘You’re a negotiator, Mr. Hawk. I’ve learned that much about you. Are you looking for some kind of deal here? Are you already thinking about a plea agreement?’

‘No.’

‘Then what are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that you and the sheriff’s department already have your minds made up about Ashlynn’s death, but I think you’re wrong. My daughter says she’s innocent.’

‘Innocent?’

‘She didn’t pull the trigger. She didn’t shoot Ashlynn Steele.’

Altman’s head snapped back and forth in a sharp dismissal. ‘Your client is lying to you. I don’t need to tell you that defendants lie all the time, do I? Clients lie to attorneys, and daughters most certainly lie to fathers.’

‘I believe her.’

‘Of course you do, which is another reason to bring in counsel with no emotional attachment to the accused. Look, Mr. Hawk, any attorney you hire will do a dance about your daughter’s age, and her consumption of alcohol, and her emotional state, and about whether a game of Russian roulette – if in fact there was any such game, rather than a cold-blooded execution – demonstrates a depraved mind. Fair enough. Those are questions for a judge and jury. But if you don’t believe we have overwhelming evidence that Olivia Hawk caused the death of Ashlynn Steele, then you are fooling yourself.’

‘No one saw her pull the trigger,’ Chris pointed out, ‘and you didn’t find the murder weapon at the scene.’

‘Your daughter tested positive for gunpowder residue.’

‘Tanya Swenson saw Olivia fire a gun, but she fired into a tree, not Ashlynn.’

‘Tanya saw your daughter take out a gun and threaten to kill Ashlynn Steele in a deserted location not two hours before her body was found in that same location. We have a self-professed motive for the crime based on her antipathy toward the victim and the victim’s father. We may not have the gun, but we have a bullet in the tree and a bullet in Ashlynn’s head. We’ll match the two, I assure you. There is no rush to judgment here, Mr. Hawk. If we’ve moved quickly, it’s because the evidence warrants it.’

‘Maybe so,’ Chris said, ‘but the victim was also the daughter of one of the wealthiest and most influential men in the county.’

‘You think your daughter is in prison because of pressure from Florian Steele?’

‘Let’s say it crossed my mind.’

Altman sighed and opened the center drawer of his desk. He removed a business card and slid it toward Chris with the tip of his index finger. ‘I haven’t had to get new business cards in twenty-six years, Mr. Hawk. That’s how long I’ve sat behind this desk. I’ve seen it all. Meth factories. Mayors selling city contracts for bribes. Environmental fringe groups blowing up power lines. Illegal immigrants locked in semi trailers. Right now, I’ve got the U.S. attorney in Minneapolis telling me he’s got hard evidence of child pornography distribution operating out of my county. Frankly, I’ve got too much on my plate to worry about political pressure.’

‘That’s refreshing, Mr. Altman, but men like Florian Steele know how to get their way. If Florian is convinced that Olivia murdered his daughter, he wouldn’t be shy about demanding action.’

‘As would you if it were your daughter.’

‘I’m not the CEO of Mondamin Research,’ Chris said.

Altman stared at Chris in silence for a long time. ‘I appreciate your situation, Mr. Hawk,’ he replied finally. ‘I would find it hard to imagine one of my children taking someone else’s life. It’s easier to believe she’s being railroaded to satisfy a powerful man like Florian. Unfortunately, I live here, and you don’t. I’ve seen too many sweet young people – people just like your daughter – who have been radicalized by this insane feud. There’s a lot of misguided hatred in this county surrounding Mondamin.’

‘Misguided?’ Chris asked. ‘Five teenagers in St. Croix died of leukemia.’

‘I realize that, but it’s a tragic coincidence.’

‘In a town of four hundred people? That’s a hell of a coincidence.’

‘Honestly, no, it’s not. People shudder when they hear about cancer clusters, but nearly all of them are mathematical anomalies. If you flip a coin a few million times, you’ll land on heads a hundred times in a row at some point. It happens. The loss of those children in St. Croix is devastating, but the families blamed Mondamin because of emotion and speculation, not facts. I’m a lawyer, not an epidemiologist, so I can’t tell you anything about the science involved. All I can tell you is that an independent special master found no evidence of any link between Mondamin Research and the deaths of those young people in St. Croix.’

‘You’re a lawyer. You know a lack of evidence doesn’t mean there’s no link.’

Altman stared at the ceiling. ‘Yes, I get it, Mr. Hawk, I do. People are naturally suspicious. I don’t know exactly what goes on behind the walls at that company. However, one of the largest agri-businesses in the world acquired Mondamin last year, so they must be doing something right. I gather they snip at DNA strands and create new strains of seeds and pesticides. Genetically modified organisms. Nanoparticles. If you believe the hype, they’re part of a revolution that will wipe out world hunger. If you believe the environmentalists, they’re monsters fiddling with things they don’t understand, creating mutants that will kill all of us. Take your pick. Whatever you believe, the hard truth is that the families of St. Croix lost in court. They chose not to let it end there. Ever since the judge threw out the litigation, I’ve had to deal with terroristic violence from teenagers in both towns. Shootings, fire bombings, animals tortured.’

‘Olivia wasn’t involved in any of that.’

‘Not as far as I know, that’s true. On the other hand, your daughter has been a vocal critic of Mondamin at the local high school.’

‘Free speech isn’t a crime,’ Chris said.

‘No, but carrying a gun without a permit is a crime. Murder is a crime. I knew Ashlynn Steele, Mr. Hawk. I used to see her at church every Sunday. Regardless of what you may think about Florian, she was a beautiful, intelligent young woman. I will see she gets justice. I would do that for any man’s daughter.’

‘Sometimes children pay for the sins of the father,’ Chris said.

‘Meaning what?’

‘Destruction will rain down on all that you have created. No one will be spared.’

The county attorney carefully adjusted his black glasses, then steepled his fingers in front of his chin. ‘I see you’ve been reading the newspaper.’

Chris nodded.

‘Yes, we’re investigating this man who calls himself Aquarius,’ Altman said, ‘but we don’t know if he represents any actual threat.’

‘Whoever he is, he obviously has a bitter grudge against Florian.’

‘So what are you suggesting? Aquarius followed Florian’s daughter and killed her?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe he did. Can you rule it out?’

Altman shook his head. ‘Mr. Hawk, I know you want to help your daughter, but you can best do that by focusing on your legal strategy, not by putting on rose-colored glasses about her innocence. Right now, a good lawyer would be thinking about ways to make a jury sympathize with what she did, not dreaming up farfetched conspiracy theories.’

‘Olivia didn’t do it,’ Chris said.

Altman spread his hands in resignation. ‘Fine. It’s your call.’

‘I’d like to review everything the police have gathered so far in this case. Is that going to be a problem?’

‘No, I’ll make sure we get copies in your hands promptly.’ Altman added, ‘Perhaps that will open your eyes.’

Chris ignored the jab. ‘There’s a detention hearing tomorrow morning. Where do you stand on that?’

‘I have to oppose, even though I’m not likely to win. Olivia doesn’t have a criminal history, but there’s a real threat of more violence if she’s released.’

‘She’s not going to harm anyone, Mr. Altman,’ Chris said. ‘You know that.’

‘Actually, I’m thinking of her own safety. You should be, too.’

‘What do you mean?’

Michael Altman frowned. ‘I mean, if she’s free, she’s in danger. That’s the reality in this county right now, Mr. Hawk. The safest place for your daughter may be in jail.’