The Wrong Man

74

Tori and I went into my office, where she opened her laptop. I thought, under the circumstances, this was a discussion best held in private.

“So this is what you lawyers would call unethical,” said Tori.

“Not to mention inadmissible,” I added. Even if we discovered gold in Kathy Rubinkowski’s e-mail inbox, I wouldn’t be able to use it. On the other hand, if I found something really useful, I could subpoena her e-mails and pretend to discover the e-mail for the first time.

I really should record these thoughts and play them back to myself during a moment of reflection. The rules of ethics in my profession, last I checked, weren’t optional. When did I start treating them that way?

Oh, that’s right-when an innocent man was on the verge of going down for murder.

“So here it is.” Tori showed me the computer screen. “This is Kathy’s personal e-mail, not work.”

“This is her inbox?” I asked.

“Right. As you can see, she’s still getting a few e-mails, a year later. Mostly ads. But the real traffic ends on January thirteenth, when she died.”

We sat next to each other on my couch. She handed me the laptop. I scrolled through the messages she received. Most of them appeared to be sent to friends. Many of them at the top of the screen-the most recent chronologically-revolved around plans to celebrate her twenty-fourth birthday, which would have been the next day after her death. It hit me at that moment, something palpable in my gut, the sense of loss. This woman didn’t make it to twenty-four. What I was doing, trying to solve this puzzle, wasn’t solely for my client. I owed it to her, too.

“Check out January eighth,” Tori said.

I had to move to the second screen to do so. I pulled up an e-mail dated Friday, January 8, 1:31 P.M.:

I Need Some Advice

From: “Katherine Rubinkowski” ‹ KRubinkowski@DLMlaw. net›

To: “Thomas J. Rangle” ‹ TRangle@DLMlaw. net›

BCC: “Me” ‹ Rubes@Intercast. com›

Tom, something is bothering me and I wanted to lay it out for you. I think we should keep this between us for now.

Remember I told you about the LabelTek / GHI lawsuit, and how I listed Summerset Farms as a buyer of the GHI fertilizer and someone removed them from the interrogatory answer? Recall I complained to Bruce but he brushed me off? Well, apparently LabelTek found out about Summerset on its own, probably from the Dept. of Ag database. The thing is, the moment they issued a subpoena to Summerset, GHI suddenly settled the case.

Okay, so that’s strange, but it gets weirder. I handled the Summerset acquisition when we first got GHI for a client. Summerset’s a small operation, and GHI is selling them way more fertilizer than they could use. I know this sounds paranoid-but it’s like Summerset is stockpiling this fertilizer.

So far, this was tracking with what I knew. It actually laid out what we’d discovered in a concise fashion. She sent this e-mail from work-the “DLMlaw” e-mail address surely meant Dembrow, Lane, and McCabe-but blind copied her personal e-mail. She was keeping a record of this e-mail for herself.

And the e-mail continued:

And remember that other acquisition we did-SK Tool and Supply? Right at the same time GHI acquired Summerset? Well, SK just sold basic industrial equipment, but now, all of a sudden, they sell nitromethane, which has a lot of uses, but one of which is explosives. And when I was over at SK the other day on the Secada lawsuit-ok, I know I shouldn’t have done this-but I looked at their sales invoices and it turns out, SK sells nitromethane to one and only one customer. Guess who? Summerset.

So I know this sounds like an Oliver Stone movie, but it seems like a lot of transactional work has gone toward sending fertilizer (ammonium nitrate) and nitromethane to one company in large quantities.

When you combine ammonium nitrate with nitromethane, you get a potent explosive. It’s pretty much what Timothy McVeigh used in Oklahoma City.

Tell me if I’m totally paranoid, but this is freaking me out a little bit. I know Bruce brushed me off before, but now that we know about the nitromethane, too-should I raise it with him? Or… and I can’t believe I’m saying this… should I go to the police?

Thanks, T. K

“Who’s Tom Rangle?” I asked.

“The head paralegal at the law firm,” Tori said. “Kathy’s boss.”

I read the whole thing a second time. I always miss something when I’m reading fast.

“Jesus, Tori.” I looked at her. “This is the motive, right here.”

I got up from the couch. My left knee screamed at me to slow it down. It was gradually improving but still hurt whenever I breathed. I lapped my office-limped was a better term-and found my football as I ruminated.

“A few days before her murder, Kathy connected the dots,” I said. “Global Harvest bought a company to use as a front to gather two chemicals used to make a bomb-fertilizer and nitromethane. Global Harvest sold the fertilizer but didn’t sell nitromethane. They didn’t want to be too obvious about picking it up as a new product, so they did the next best thing. They purchased another company, SK Tool and Supply, that sells industrial products and had that company sell the nitromethane to Summerset. Nobody’s paying attention because it’s not like they’re selling these things to Al Qaeda or something. They’re selling it to a farm, for Christ’s sake. A farm that needs fertilizer to grow wheat and nitromethane, I don’t know, probably for pesticide. Bradley said that was one of its uses, right?”

“So Summerset Farms is the perfect front.”

“Perfect,” I agreed. “We already know from this e-mail that Kathy talked to Bruce McCabe about Summerset Farms being removed from that interrogatory response. So McCabe was on notice that she was suspicious. And by the time this e-mail was sent-what was it, January eighth? — Kathy had put even more pieces together. She probably told McCabe that there was a possible terrorist operation going on.”

“She probably did,” Tori agreed.

“And that connects us to Randall Manning. McCabe could have just told his client that his paralegal was asking questions.”

“And just a few days later, Kathy is murdered,” said Tori. “Just enough time for Manning to hire the Capparellis to kill her.”

We looked at each other. This was it.

Tori said, “But you can’t use this. It’s inadmissible, you said.”

“I can’t tell the judge I hacked into her e-mail, no. But I can subpoena her e-mails and act pleasantly surprised.”

I thought about that. There had to be another way.

“Better yet,” I said, “let’s talk to Tom Rangle.”