Sedona Law 4 Page 17

“All rise, for the honorable Judge Robert Florian,” the bailiff said.

  I hadn’t had this judge before, but I had heard of him. He was known as the “rock star” judge. He had been a fairly successful recording artist in Nashville before retiring from the music world and pursuing a career in law. That was nearly twenty years ago, and he was still seen as an edgy, young-ish, nominally subversive legal figure.

  He walked up to the podium with that sort of cocky swagger universal to every rock star I had ever met. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with dark close-cropped hair, sharp brown eyes, and I caught a couple of tattoos on his fingers. He raised an eyebrow as he took us all in, and then he sat down.

  “You may be seated,” he said and spoke with the quick, unimpressed manner common to intelligent Gen X men. “In the matter of the state of Arizona versus Julianna Spencer and Gabriel Montago, counsel please state your appearances.”

  “Chet Levison,” he said. “Prosecution.”

  “Henry Irving,” I began, “and Vicki Park, defense counsel for Julianna Spencer and Gabriel Montago, respectively.”

  The judge looked down at his notes, and then he shook his head and then looked back at us. “Prosecution, can you please state the charges?”

  Chet read from a paper, “The defendant Julianna Spencer is accused of second degree murder of Beowulf Vandergarten. Defendant Gabriel Montago is accused of aiding and abetting in the murder.”

  The words fell like a bomb in the room, and I looked at Julianna who stood resolutely. I could hear Zondra gasp and emit a sob. I half wondered if she would have an outburst right in the courtroom. Fortunately, she stayed in control of herself.

  The judge sighed and looked our defense team over.

  “This is a murder case,” he said as he toyed a pen in his tattoed fingers. “Pretty serious. Do you understand the charges?”

  “Yes, your honor,” Julianna said.

  He nodded toward Gabriel. “And you?

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Okay,” he said. “Are you prepared to enter your plea?”

  “Yes, your honor,” Julianna said.

  “And how do you plead?” he asked.

  She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.

  “Not guilty,” she said.

  “And Mr. Montago?” he asked.

  “Not guilty,” he said.

  I noticed his lips turn up in a quick half smile. “Have they been advised of their rights and the charges?”

  “Yes, your honor,” I said.

  He nodded. “Alright. Court will reconvene in six weeks.”

  He banged a gavel. “Court dismissed.”

  Judge Florian disappeared, and I handed Chet the discovery requests AJ had done.

  “Hope you’re ready for this,” he shook his head. “You can’t win every time, Irving.”

  “Who says I can’t?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Just because you’re a hotshot from L.A., you can’t just waltz into town and ‘fix’ the legal system. That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not trying to ‘fix’ anything,” I said. “But, why would I need to fix it if it isn’t broken?”

  He laughed and that surprised me. “You know, we bust balls around in the courtroom. But I like you, Irving. We should have a drink sometime.”

  “That would be good,” I said. “Excuse me, I have to go get to my clients before the media does.”

  “You do that,” he said. “I’ll have the discovery sent over to you as far before the deadline as I can.”

  “Thanks, Chet,” I replied.

  I left the courtroom and met up with Vicki and the clients in the lobby. Zondra tried to comfort Julianna who still didn’t want to be comforted.

  “It’s done,” Gabriel said. “We’re in this, we can’t turn back now.”

  “Yeah,” Julianna’s voice was hoarse. Olivia glanced at her, and Julianna turned away. I glanced at Vicki, and she shrugged.

  “Alright,” I said, “there’s a media circus outside. The specific details of the case are privileged information, so you can’t tell them anything that isn’t already available on public record. I can’t tell you not to talk to the media, but I would advise you to have Vicki or I present if you do so.”

  “It’s none of their business,” Gabriel said defensively.

  “Yeah,” Chloe said. “They didn’t know Beyo. They think it’s just entertainment when it’s our nightmare.”

  I nodded. “That’s a valid way to see it.”

  Julianna burst into fresh tears, and Gabriel held her. We all walked out of the building together and were again attacked by reporters, shouting, flashing, chaos. This time, we didn’t stop.

  “Thank you, no comment,” I said multiple times, in multiple directions.

  Zondra on the other hand, lost it.

  “Back off, you fuckers,” she yelled, as she flashed dual middle fingers at all the cameras. “You didn’t know my daughter. You don’t know anything about us.”

  This was the worst thing she could have done. It occured to me that maybe we needed a publicist.

  “Zondra, Zondra,” Vicki tried to calm her down, but the damage had already been done. The reporters were onto her like a swarm of bees.

  “Why did she do it? Was it revenge? Money? Jealousy?”

  “Is it true that she was in a four way love relationship?”

  “Julainna, what is it like to share a penis with three other women?”

  “Thank you,” I stood in front of Zondra and blocked the media parade. “We have no further comment. You can direct any more questions to my office.”

  This effectively stopped the barrage, and they got the message.

  “Zondra, what the fuck?” Gabriel muttered once we were far enough away that we were in a separate parking lot, out of view of the reporters.

  “I just can’t stand that,” she said. “They’re making a joke out of this case.”

  “None of us can stand it,” Olivia piped up. “But you don’t have to make it worse.”

  “I’m not making it worse,” she said. “I’m standing up for all of you in the middle of this spectacle--which none of you are doing for yourselves. A ‘thank you’ might be nice.”

  “This is not your spectacle,” Julianna stopped and turned to Zondra with tears brimming in her eyes. “This is my life! It’s not about you, mom!”

  “I’m not trying to make it about me,” she said. “I’m trying to let you make it about you. All your life, I did nothing but prop you up, in pageants, and cotillions, acting lessons. I expected it would do you some good, when life throws lemons at you, you’d know what to do with them. You don’t make lemonade, you tell those lemons to go to hell! I didn’t raise you to stand here and let yourself be made a fool out of.”

  “Did they read the charges against you?” Julianna spat. “Was your name read out? So, how is this your problem, mother?”

  “Julianna, you’re just upset,” she said.

  “How about you, Chloe?” Julianna turned to the other dancers, her eyes bright with anger. “Olivia, did they read your name today?”

  “Wait,” Chloe said, “What did I do? How did I get into this? I just came to support you.”

  “Julianna,” Vicki jumped in. “Why don’t we take a breather?”

  “No,” she pushed Vicki away. “All I wanted, all I wanted, was to get away from all of this. Do you know that? That’s all I wanted. I just wanted to get out. I wanted to be free. That’s what this whole thing was all about.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Vicki. Her language was a bit disconcerting. What did she mean by “this whole thing”? Was she talking about breaking up with Beyo and running off with Gabriel, or was she actually talking about the murder? For the first time, I wondered if she was actually guilty.

  “Julianna,” Olivia reached out to her, and Julianna pushed her away. “Don’t say these things. Stop.”

  Julianna continued, “I didn’t want this, any of this anymore. And
now, now…”

  Gabriel looked on haplessly and then unlocked the car.

  “Let’s go home,” he said gently.

  “Just go,” she waved at Chloe and Olivia. “I don’t want you here.”

  Chloe and Olivia looked shocked as Julianna got into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Gabriel looked perplexed and hovered out of the driver’s seat.

  “Come on, guys,” I said. “We’ll take you home.”

  Gabriel shrugged, got into the car, and backed out, while Olivia and Chloe looked on. Then they sped off. Zondra yelled after them and stormed off to her car.

  “She needs some time,” Vicki consoled Chloe and Olivia. “It’s been a long stressful day for all of us. Let’s go home.”

  “Yeah,” Chloe sighed. “Let’s go.”

  It was a long quiet ride back to Sedona. The arraignment had given us all a lot to think about. I dropped the dancers off at their respective houses. When I arrived at Michael Knapp’s house to drop off Chloe, he was in the driveway.

  “Why don’t you guys come in for a cup of coffee?” he asked.

  “We can’t,” I said. “I’ve got another meeting.”

  The head of the Performance Arts League nodded.

  “How did it go?” he asked as he hung off my driver’s window.

  I shrugged. “Entered a not guilty plea. Going to trial in six weeks.”

  He didn’t seem surprised by the information. “I hear a lot of things. You’re pissing some people off.”

  “I know,” I said. “Occupational hazard.”

  “Just be careful,” he said. “Everyone in this town is connected by just a few degrees.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

  “John Malone,” he said, “knows everyone that’s anyone in this town, and he’s about to ruin you.”

  “Is that right?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what he’s got on you,” he said. “But he’s about to turn everyone against you. So, I’m just warning you to be careful.”

  “Thanks, Michael, but I got this,” I said.

  He shrugged and nodded and tapped my car in a dismissal gesture. “I know you do,” he said. “See you around.”

  “Jesus,” I told Vicki as I backed out of Michael’s driveway. “Blackmail. This guy’s dirtier than we thought.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “We’ll ask Marvin if he knows what Malone’s got up his sleeve.”

  “If he’s still on our side,” I said.

  “We’re about to find that out,” she said.

  After a long and winding drive, the GPS took us to a six story luxury high rise. I whistled.

  “Yeah,” I said. “This would be where he lived.

  “Penthouse?” she asked.

  “Of course,” I said. “What else would he have?”

  “So,” she said. “How are we approaching this interview?”

  We checked in with a security guard at a guard tower.

  “Iakova?” he read from a clipboard.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Go on through,” he smirked. “Good luck.”

  I rolled up the window, and we both laughed.

  “Unfortunately, I know what he’s referring to,” Vicki said.

  “Yep,” I said. “And I’m not trying to overthrow his empire. I just want to know what he knew about the murder, and what he knows about Malone and Olivia.”

  “You think he’ll tell you all of this?” she asked.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “It’s worth a try.”

  I drove past an extravagantly manicured landscape and then pulled into a circular drive, where a valet attendant greeted me. I raised an eyebrow at Vicki, and we grabbed our bags and let the valet take over.

  “I didn’t know places like this existed in Sedona,” I told her.

  I watched in the direction where a strange college guy with shaggy hair, earrings, and a fancy uniform had just taken off with my car.

  “So,” Vicki said. “I’m putting this place on the list for Susan Burkewitz.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. “This is where we’re moving?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “This is so where we’re living.”

  “As long as that kid doesn’t take off with my car,” I muttered.

  A doorman ushered us into a lavishly decorated lobby, with pristine white linoleum, deep mahogany fixtures, and seating areas in white and gold. A concierge and a couple of other uniformed types purposefully strode throughout the lobby, and I took the elevator up to the penthouse apartment, and I had to enter a passcode Marvin had already texted me.

  The elevator let us out onto an expansive sixth floor space. Bay windows made up all the outer walls, and the furniture was done in white, with soft lamp lighting and contemporary styled luxury furniture. Expensive art pieces filled the inner walls, with a chrome staircase that led up to a glass walled loft.

  A brown Yorkshire terrier greeted us with yippy barks, and Marvin wasn’t far behind.

  “Hi,” he smiled at us, and Vicki and I both shook his hand. Marvin at home was different from what I imagined. He actually was in white cotton pajamas, and a silk purple bathrobe, with brown house shoes. He still wore his purple tinted glasses, though.

  “Good of you to come,” he said in a slow soft-spoken manner so unlike his professional image. “I thought we could talk here. It’s more comfortable, more intimate, than a sterile office with ringing phones and busybodies peeking in and out.”

  He made a sweeping gesture with his hands. “I’m old, my nerves aren’t what they used to be. I like it quiet, warm, and inviting.”

  I had a feeling that wasn’t why he invited us here. It had a deeper, more manipulative feel to it.

  “Definitely a gorgeous place,” I whistled.

  “I like nice things,” he said. “I don’t apologize for them.”

  The dog kept yapping at us, so Marvin picked it up. “This is Gilbert. Say hello, Gilbert.”

  Gilbert yapped, and Marvin put him down again. “I named him after the first town I owned a newspaper in.”

  “Gilbert,” I said. “Yeah, it’s near Phoenix.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I bought it in 1972, it was called The Post then. I started out there as a newspaper boy on a corner. I was just a kid, then. But then the paper had an opening in ad sales. So I moved up, and from there I worked my way into a reporter for the news desk, and then became the news editor, until I got a job in Tulsa, Oklahoma as a managing editor for a paper called The Tribune. I worked there for a while, until I heard that The Post back home was struggling. So, in ‘72, I took a giant leap, and moved my wife and our newborn son back to Gilbert, and I invested everything I had and bought The Post. My wife hated it, and putting our family at risk eventually led to the divorce, but that was the beginning of Starbright.”

  “Wow,” Vicki said. “Sounds like you put in your dues.”

  “Indeed,” he said.

  He gestured toward an all-white sitting area. “Come. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink? Scotch, bourbon?”

  “Water would be fine for both of us,” I said.

  “Two waters?” he repeated, and Vicki nodded, and he went into the kitchen area. Vicki and I sat down and took in the view. I looked at Vicki wide-eyed.

  “Wow,” she mouthed.

  It was breathtaking. From six stories up, the southwest landscape of Red Rocks, Grand Canyon territory, and the city of Sedona in the distance, spread out from all sides.

  “Sedona of all places,” I asked when Marvin returned with two glasses of water and a glass of scotch for himself. “Why did you choose that?”

  “I didn’t really,” he said. “It chose me. My ex-wife was here, with our son. I moved here to be near them, but I didn’t realize I had put it off so long, that it was only another year before he moved off to college in Scottsdale. But, I’ve grown roots here, and it’s home. Well, one of three places I call home, anyway.”

  He settled into the couch adjacent to us. He
crossed his legs primly and took a sip of his drink and set it on the coffee table.

  “So,” he said, as he draped his arm around the back of the couch. “What can I do for you?”

  I opened my notepad on my lap and clicked a pen. “We want to know everything you can tell us about the night of the murder.”

  He nodded slowly. “You’ve talked to John Malone.”

  I didn’t expect to get into that territory this early on.

  “Yes,” I said. “He was there that night. I spoke to him about what he knew.”

  Marvin smiled and toyed with the fringe on a couch pillow before answering.

  “Diplomatic way of putting it,” he remarked.

  “Legally I can’t put it any differently,” I said.

  “And you’ve spoken to Judith Klein,” he stated.

  “This is correct,” I said.

  This could go either way, and I wasn’t sure how I stood in this meeting.

  “And you want to know how I fit into their little coven,” he said.

  “In a sense, if you could divulge that,” I said.

  He sighed and looked up at the ceiling in thought. “John Malone. What can I say about John Malone?”

  He chuckled and then spoke quickly. “John Malone has been a thorn in my side for years.”

  “I’m surprised,” I said. “My information said you two work hand in glove.”

  “We make it appear that way,” he said. “He was on our board before he was elected. He was a sniveling little kiss ass, but he could get the job done, and he could get it done well.”

  “Did you help him get elected?” I asked.

  “I did,” he said. “It was in our best interest to do so. You’ve heard of SB1110?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I’ve been working on getting that piece of legislation through for many years,” he said. “I started working on it as early as 2006.”

  “Really?” I said. “I didn’t realize that.”

  “When Google and Facebook first emerged as the powerhouses they are today,” he said, “I saw the future. I knew then where new media was going. Social, digital, subjective, and civilian driven. I knew we were in a new era, and it was exciting and mesmerizing, but very, very dangerous.”

  “I think most people saw it that way,” I replied.

  “Most people had the basic knowledge to put it into terms of a dystopian novel,” he said. “They would throw around words like, ‘Orwellian,’ and ‘brave new world,’ and such.”