The Wrong Man

40

I looked around the room at my team. Each of them had their assignments, and each of them was giving me their all. Shauna had rescheduled all of her work and even turned down a couple of clients to help on the Stoller case. Bradley John was focusing on nothing else. Joel Lightner, who had a three-person shop, was doing what he could, even though there was little to no promise of payment for doing so. And Tori, who had provided more help than I would have expected, was devoted to the cause as well.

When I was a prosecutor, we had a phrase for how everyone was feeling right now: tired and wired. Everyone was motivated but suffering from sleep deprivation, and no matter how charged up you were, your brain worked less efficiently on little sleep. And mistakes were made.

“Shauna,” I said.

“We’re looking at three companies,” she said. “Global Harvest International, which produces a number of commercial-grade agricultural products. And then two companies that GHI purchased in June of 2009: SK Tool and Supply, and Summerset Farms. We know from the LabelTek lawsuit and those subpoenas that GHI sold fertilizer-Glo-Max 2. 0-to Summerset Farms. And we think it’s a sensitive point for GHI, and the reason they suddenly settled that lawsuit before the subpoenas could be effectuated.” She shook her head. “Everything I can see from public information tells me that Summerset Farms is just a small little local company that grows wheat and sells granola and bread to local grocery stores. They have no dings from any federal or state agency, no citations or lawsuits or anything like that. They’re on good paper with their certificates of incorporation and all that.”

“So there’s nothing,” I said. “Other than the fact that in June of 2009, GHI bought two companies.”

“That’s not all that happened in June of 2009,” she said. “That month, GHI also called off a plan to go public.”

Interesting. “Global Harvest is privately owned,” I said.

Shauna nodded. “It was handed down from Oliver Manning to his son, Randall. It’s grown substantially during Randall’s tenure. But he runs the place flat-out. He owns one hundred percent of the stock. They were going to take the company public. Randall stood to make tens of millions. Then, in June of 2009, he called it off.”

“Okay, so why would he do that?”

“You go public, you have stockholders,” said Shauna. “You have a board of directors. If people don’t like what you’re doing, they throw you out on your ass. Or the shareholders can file derivative suits.”

“You surrender control,” I said.

“Right. You own it outright, privately, you call the shots. Nobody questions you.”

Good. That was a good thing to know. There was something significant about June of 2009, I assumed. Randall Manning decided to keep a firm control on his company, and he purchased two other companies.

“If there’s anything there, I’ll find it,” said Shauna, when I pointed this out.

I threw my football in the air and caught it. “Anything else before we move on?”

“There’s one more thing. Summerset Farms. It wasn’t really a preexisting company that GHI purchased. Summerset Farms was a farm, owned by a farmer, who sold his wheat output to commercial entities.”

“I thought GHI purchased the stock of an existing company.”

“Technically, yes, Jason, but listen to what I’m saying. The farmer incorporated, like any large farm should do. But he didn’t make granola or bread. He just grew wheat and sold it. GHI came along and bought him out. They kept the corporate name, Summerset Farms, but turned it into a different operation. They expanded their operations, too. They purchased more acreage. They bought out a number of neighboring farms. They have several square miles of land in the southwest in unincorporated Fordham County.”

I threw my football up in the air again. “So why would a corporate giant like GHI want to get into the local grocery business?”

Shauna shook her head. “Oh, GHI owns all kinds of companies. They’re incredibly diversified. They’re the principal shareholder in a chain of sporting-goods stores down south, believe it or not. They own outright a personal storage company called We-Hold-It or something like that. They own a men’s clothier out east, a billboard company in California-I mean, it doesn’t end.

“But the better question is, if they did want to get into the local grocery business, why wouldn’t they buy an existing company that’s already in that business? That’s their M. O. They started Summerset Farms basically from scratch.”

“Is that necessarily odd behavior?” Tori asked.

It was a good question. Nobody in the room had ever worked for a corporate giant. Shauna had done lots of corporate legal work, and Lightner had done investigative work for large companies, but none of us knew a thing about strategic planning for an international company.

“There’s gotta be big money in commercial-grade fertilizer,” said Joel Lightner. “Wherever there’s money, there’s ways to skirt things. Maybe somebody at Global Harvest and Summerset Farms was doing something hinky off the books. Maybe this character Randall Manning was embezzling or something. You said he was sensitive about the sales records between GHI and Summerset?”

“Oh, yeah, there’s something there,” I said. “No question. This guy would’ve rather had a proctology exam than talk to me about Summerset Farms.” I nodded to Shauna. “What about this other company GHI bought at the same time-SK Tool and Supply?”

Shauna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her notes. “I don’t have much on them yet. They were a preexisting company, though. SK Tool and Supply was owned by a guy named Stanley Keane, thus the SK. They’re strictly B-to-B-”

“Translation, please.”

“Sorry, business-to-business. SK sells industrial-grade power tools and all sorts of other equipment to all kinds of industrial clients.”

“Stanley Keane has no criminal record,” Joel Lightner chimed in. “That’s all I know about him so far.”

“And that’s all I know about the company so far,” Shauna said. “They’re clean with the feds and state, their corporate papers are all in order. From what I can tell, there’s nothing there.”

I pointed to her. “Did SK Tool and Supply ever sell anything to Summerset Farms?”

“I don’t know yet. There’s no way to know who they sell their products to. That’s not inherently public information. For what it’s worth, I put in three calls to them today and got no return. I even called their lawyer, Bruce McCabe, who as you know isn’t inclined to be much help.”

“No, he isn’t. You couldn’t go visit them, Shauna? A face-to-face?”

“They’re more than two hours away, J. We just started looking at them. I just haven’t had time.”

“And tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. That’s four more days we lose. And then it’s three days to trial.” I moaned. “Bradley, I take it that SK Tool and Supply doesn’t sell fertilizer?”

“Not according to the Agriculture Department’s database, no.”

“So if they’re connected to Summerset Farms, it’s through something else. Something that we don’t know, and that will be almost impossible to discover before the trial starts a fucking week from today.”

Tori cleared her throat. “Can I ask a question?”

“Shoot,” I said. Tori’s outside perspective had proven helpful in focusing me.

“Why would there necessarily be a connection to Summerset Farms?”

“I’m not sure there is,” I conceded. “But GHI bought both companies at the same time, in June of 2009. And all three of them have the same lawyer, Bruce McCabe. And GHI was pretty damn sensitive about disclosing its dealings with Summerset Farms. So sensitive that it handed out a ridiculously generous settlement to LabelTek and, if my theory is correct, murdered a paralegal who was asking too many questions.”

It was good to say it aloud. It sounded plausible. If I could fill in some blanks, it was a workable theory at trial. It gave me a needed boost.

“Is that it, Shauna? Anything else?”

“Well, I had been working with Dr. Baraniq. But I guess that’s over.”

“The hell it is. Bring him in on Friday.”

She made a face. “Judge Nash barred him from testifying.”

“He struck the insanity defense,” I clarified. “He didn’t say anything about Dr. Sofian Baraniq testifying or not testifying.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, J. How does Dr. Baraniq help us?”

I had an idea about that. But there was no need to get bogged down now. “Let’s talk about that later. Let’s move on. Bradley,” I said.

“I have subpoenas prepared for the Department of Agriculture, SK Tool and Supply, Summerset Farms, Stanley Keane personally… Let’s see, you already served Randall Manning and GHI in person. You want me to send the other subpoenas out?”

“Not yet,” I said. “The minute we serve them, we have to show the prosecution. I don’t want to tip my hand just yet.” In fact, it occurred to me that I might momentarily forget that I served Randall Manning with that subpoena. For the time being, it might slip my mind to tell the prosecution.

“And what about Judge Nash?” Shauna asked. “You haven’t disclosed any of this, and you’re way past the discovery order cutoff. Isn’t he going to deny all of this?”

I sighed and tossed the football in the air. “I already have that problem, whether I disclose it now or a week from now. But I’ve laid a pretty good record here, I think. He fucked me on the insanity defense and fucked me on the fitness argument, and then when I said I was now being stripped of my defense on the eve of trial and needed additional time to prepare, he fucked me again. He’s a stubborn old goat, but he’s not stupid. If he doesn’t give me a little slack on what I can show the jury, he runs a real risk of being reversed on appeal.”

“But you can’t bank on that. With Judge Nash, you said you never-”

“I know I can’t bank on it, Shauna. I’ve got a ruling from that piece of shit sticking out of my ass right now. You think I don’t know that?”

“Hey, easy.” Shauna raised her hands.

“What other choice do I have, Shauna? We follow the leads and hope we come up with something that’s compelling enough that Judge Nash can’t possibly say no. I’m out of backup plans here, okay? This is the only hope we have.”

“Okay, everybody, let’s turn it down.” Lightner patted the air with his hands. “Deep breaths, everyone.”

“And what value have you added, Lightner?” I asked.

“I’m trying to find the mysterious Gin Rummy, pal. Someone not even the esteemed FBI can-”

“Some fucking hotshot P. I. you are. You couldn’t track a bleeding elephant through the snow. You couldn’t find a Jew in Israel. You couldn’t locate oil in Saudi-”

Bradley John burst into laughter. So I turned on him next.

“And what about you, Bradley? Other than having two first names and listening to Panic! at the Disco on your iPad and having Justin Bieber’s haircut? You got anything else for me, sport?”

He raised his hands and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. “We exchanged motions in limine today,” he said.

“Great. That’s great! And remind me again what we filed, Kid Rock. A motion to have our asses kicked at trial? A motion for a mattress to be placed in the courtroom so that when the judge is finished slapping me around for discovery violations, I have a soft landing?”

Bradley ticked off his fingers. “Motion to exclude witnesses, motion-”

“I know what motions we filed, Hip-Hop. I was filing pretrial motions when you were feeling up Betty Lou in the bathroom at junior prom. Get me draft responses to the prosecution’s motions by Saturday.”

I picked up the document that Ray Rubinkowski had given me, with the handwritten scratch on the back: AN NM??

“Last I checked, you were supposed to figure out who AN and NM were.”

Bradley, who was only now losing his smirk, flipped back a page in the notebook in front of him. “There’s no lawyer at Bruce McCabe’s law firm with either set of initials, so it’s not someone Kathy Rubinkowski worked with. None of the companies listed in the answers to interrogatories Kathy was drafting have those initials. None of the companies listed on the Agriculture Department’s database have those initials. I even tried to find a staff directory for LabelTek to see if they have anyone with those initials. I’m still looking. I won’t stop.”

“Um, excuse me.” Shauna raised her hand like a polite schoolgirl. “I think what you’ve been meaning to say is that you know how hard all of us are working and you appreciate it, and you know that we share your frustration.”

I tossed the football in the air. “That’s what I meant,” I sighed. “It may have come out different.”

“A little different, yeah.”

“Okay, listen, everybody,” I said. “You all need some rest. Get some tonight. Have a nice turkey day. Clear your mind, eat a lot of food, watch football, and come back Friday bright and early and ready for the final stretch.”

Bradley and Lightner headed out, neither of them real pleased with me at the moment. Shauna came over and lightly punched my arm. “Sure you don’t want to stop by tomorrow?” she asked. “We eat at three. My parents will be happy to grill you on why I’m not married yet.”

I stretched my arms. “I’m good,” I said. “Sorry about just now.”

She waved me off. “You could use a day off, too, Counselor. Clear your head. You’re not going to be alone tomorrow, are you?”

“No, no. I’m fine.”

Shauna cast a glance at Tori. She probably figured that Tori was going to be the one keeping me company tomorrow. I couldn’t tell how Shauna felt about that. The two of them had only recently met, had hardly said more than two sentences to each other. Shauna wasn’t really the catty type, but she was protective when it came to me.

She forced a smile and said, “Have a happy Thanksgiving, Tori.”

Tori replied likewise. It wasn’t the most affectionate exchange I’d ever seen. The Alaskan tundra produced more warmth.

Then Shauna left, and it was just Tori, smirking at me from the corner.

“I’m just glad you didn’t go off on me, too,” she said.

“Don’t tempt me.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Let’s get out of here,” I said.