Supreme Justice

Chapter Sixty-one

A month and a half after the shootout at the Court, the China Sea was off the front page and Dana Cutler’s life was back to normal. One of the jobs that Dana’s work on the Woodruff investigation had disrupted involved the defense of an investment banker who had been indicted in a white-collar fraud case. Dana had spent the day in the defense attorney’s office briefing him on her investigation and advising him on the witnesses and documents that had to be subpoenaed for trial. The meeting had broken up late, and Dana was so tired that she’d worried about having an accident driving home. A sound bite on the news about the hunt for Thomas Bergstrom woke her up.

An hour after Dana had given Keith Evans the video of Bergstrom murdering Dennis Masterson and his driver, the FBI had raided Bergstrom’s house. They were too late. Bergstrom’s wife and children were there, but Bergstrom had disappeared into the ether. So far, the radio announcer said, the international manhunt had not turned up a single clue to The Swede’s whereabouts.

Bergstrom’s disappearance was one of the few setbacks in the investigation into the violence at the Supreme Court and the mystery surrounding the China Sea. Cheryl Fortier-the woman who had impersonated Harriet Lezak-was talking as fast as she could in hopes of staying off death row. In addition to clearing up the roles of Millard Price and Dennis Masterson in the sordid affair, Fortier had told the FBI that Dave Fletcher, the night watchman, had been killed soon after Oswald and Swanson left the dock, and his body had been dumped at sea.

Jake was sound asleep when Dana tiptoed into their bedroom. She dropped her clothes where she took them off and went into the bathroom to wash up. Dana had stopped thinking about Bergstrom and the China Sea by the time she arrived home. While she flossed, her thoughts turned to her boring day and the stacks of subpoenas with numbers and names and addresses she had helped write. Suddenly mental tumblers clicked into place in the recesses of her brain, and she grew cold.

As soon as she finished in the bathroom, Dana fixed herself a cup of strong coffee. Then she went to her home office and worked out the logical inferences of her brainstorm. Dana booted up her computer and checked her notes from her visit to Portland. The name she wanted was buried in them. Dana checked the time. Washington, D.C., was three hours ahead of Oregon, so there was a chance she could catch the person she needed to talk to before she went to sleep. Dana dialed information and breathed a sigh of relief when the operator told her that LuAnn Cody’s number was listed.

“Ms. Cody, my name is Dana Cutler, and I’m calling from Washington, D.C.,” Dana said as soon as they were connected.

“D.C.?”

Dana could hear the confusion in her voice.

“I’m a reporter, and my editor wanted me to fact-check a story we’re going to run in the paper that involves the Multnomah County District Attorney’s office.”

“I don’t understand. What kind of story? I’m a secretary. Shouldn’t you be talking to one of the attorneys?”

“No. I had a very nice meeting with Monte Pike when I was in Portland a while back. Your name was mentioned, and I wrote it in my notes, but I’ve misplaced them. So I wrote the paragraph from memory, and then I wasn’t certain I got it right. That’s why I’m calling, to make certain that we print what really happened.”

“I still don’t know why you need to talk to me.”

“Right, I’m sorry. I should have explained. Mr. Pike mentioned that you were Max Dietz’s secretary. This detail has to do with the day he disappeared. We want to be accurate when we print something. Like your name. I have it down as L-U-capital A-N-N, no space. Is that right?”

“Yes. But what did you want to know about Mr. Dietz? I mean, I’m not sure I should be discussing him with a reporter without asking one of the attorneys.”

“Well, I’ll ask you the question. If you don’t feel comfortable, I can give you my number, and you can call back after you talk to someone. Is that fair?”

“I guess. What do you want to know?”

“OK, I wrote that the last time anyone saw Mr. Dietz, he asked for some subpoenas, you typed them for him, he took them and left the office, and he wasn’t seen again.”

“No, that’s not what happened,” Cody said. “I didn’t type them. Mr. Dietz just asked me for several subpoenas, and I gave him blanks, and he took them into his office.”

“Wouldn’t you have typed them normally?”

“Yes, but he didn’t ask me to that time.”

“Thanks. I’ll change that.” Dana paused as if she were making a note. “You don’t happen to know why he wanted the subpoenas, do you?”

“No, he never said.”

“Well, thanks a lot. Sorry to take up your time, but I wanted the story to be accurate.”

“Has anybody figured that out, what happened to Mr. Dietz?” Cody asked.

“Not that I know. But I’ll let you know if I learn the truth about his disappearance.”

Dana hung up and stared into space. She worked everything through twice more to make certain she wasn’t fooling herself. Of course, she could be wrong, and her flight to Oregon could be a waste of time. Even if she was right, it was highly unlikely that she would be able to find the proof she needed. But she had to try, so she called the airlines and bought a round-trip ticket to Portland.