Arthur Hailey - Detective

"I understand what you're saying, sir, and I respect your feelings," Adele Montesino responded. "But there are two more indictments being sought here, and I must ask your patience for a little longer. By the way, I don't know if anyone's noticed, but we seem to have some air conditioning again."

There was scattered applause and some sighs, this time of relief.

Fairly quickly, a few gaps were filled. An IRS inspector produced Cynthia Ernst's subpoenaed tax records, showing she had declared and paid taxes on interest earned in a Cayman Islands bank account, the interest having resulted from deposits stated to be a series of gifts and therefore not taxable exceeding five million Dollars. "I point out to you," the inspector said at the end, removing his bifocals, "that Ms. Ernst's taxes are entirely in order."

"But the existence of the account," Montesino advised the grand jury, "supports the statement you heard on tape about Ms. Ernst's intention to pay four hundred thousand Dollars for the murders of her parents." Montesino did not mention the irony that Cynthia's compliance with U.S. tax laws had created evidence that otherwise would have remained concealed in the Caymans and been off limits to any U.S. court.

Malcolm Ainslie was recalled. He described the opening of Jensen's safe-deposit box, which included the tape recording the grand jury had heard, as well as other items. One of those was an airline ticket counterfoil showing a round-trip Miami~rand Cayman journey, by Jensen, aboard Cayman Airways.

"What is the significance of that flight?" Montesino asked.

"Two days ago, in the presence of his attorney," Ainslie replied, "Mr. Jensen told me that he and Cynthia Ernst spent three days together in the Caymans, during which they planned the Ernst murders; also that they travelled there separately Miss Ernst on American Airlines from Miami, using the name Hilda Shawl"

"And did you verify that second statement?"

"Yes. I went to American Airlines headquarters in Miami, and, using their computer records, they confirmed there was a passenger with the name Hilda Shaw on their flight 1029 to Grand Cayman that same day."

It was all hearsay evidence, Ainslie realized, which would have been thrown out of a regular court, but was usable in this sometimes zany proceeding.

Related to the second indictment Cynthia's concealment of the two murders by Jensen Ainslie produced the box of damning evidence against Jensen, put together and hidden by Cynthia Ernst. Then, prompted by Montesino, he showed and described the contents one by one.

Julio Verona was recalled next. He testified that fingerprints found on plastic bags in the evidence box were those of Cynthia Ernst, and that handwriting on several labels had been examined and certified as hers also.

"Concerning the third indictment," Montesino told the grand jury, "I will not call any witness to confirm that Cynthia Ernst learned the name of the guilty party in what has become known as the Wheelchair Murder, and subsequently failed to report that information to police, as required by law. That is because you the grand jurors are, in effect, witnesses yourselves, having heard exactly what happened during the recording that was played."

Again, murmurs and nods acknowledged her words.

* * *

Montesino was brief with her finale.

"This has been a long and painful session, and I will not prolong it, except with this reminder. Your task now is not to decide the innocence or guilt of Cynthia Ernst. That will be a trial jury's responsibility if you decide that the evidence presented is sufficient to take these matters onward through the courts. I do believe, most strongly, that it isfar more than sufficient, and that justice will be served by your issuance of three true bills indictments. Thank you."

Moments later, after the state attorney and other staff departed, the grand jurors were left alone.

But not for long. Barely fifteen minutes later the judge and the state attorney were summoned, after which the judge received the grand jurors' decisions and read them aloud. In each case an indictment called for the arrest of Cynthia Ernst.

"You guys will have to move fast," Curzon Knowles warned Ainslie as he handed him a plastic cover containing two signed copies of the three indictments. "Once those jurors get out of here, secrecy oath or not, someone will talk, and word about Commissioner Ernst will spread like a brush fire and surely get to her."

They were in a hallway outside the courtroom. As Knowles walked with him toward an elevator, Ainslie asked, "Can you keep everyone here for a while? You have more cases with this jury?"

"One. We planned it that way, but don't count on more than an hour. After that, you take your chances."

Knowles continued, "They already know about the indictments at the Police Department; Montesino called the chief. And, oh yes, I've been told to tell you that as soon as you arrive, you should go directly to the office of Assistant Chief Serrano." He glanced at Ainslie curiously. "Pretty unusual for the brass to be directly involved in a homicide."

"Not when it's a city commissioner. The mayor and commissioners are a special breed, and treated very warily."

As a state officer dealing with many towns and cities statewide, Curzon Knowles was not tuned in to local politics as, in Miami, even a detective-sergeant was.

Ostensibly, Ainslie knew, the Police Department was independent of city politics, but in reality it was not. The city commission controlled the Police Department budget through the city manager, who also appointed the chief of police and had the power to remove one; there was an occasion when he had done so. Commission members possessed inside knowledge about senior police officers who were in line for promotion. And some commissioners had friends on the force, so quiet influence on their behalf could be, and sometimes was, applied.

Occasionally, Ainslie knew, too, there had been difficulties between the city commission and the Police Department the commission highly protective of its authority, and touchy when it was infringed. All of which was why, five days ago, Lieutenant Newbold had brought the startling developments to the attention of his superiors, Majors Figueras and Yanes. They, in turn, had passed the information higher, and those at top command, once concerned, had stayed involved.

As the elevator doors closed, Knowles mouthed from outside, "Good luck."

Good luck with what? Ainslie wondered as the elevator descended. His concept of luck right now would be to have his role in this drama end when he delivered the indictments to the assistant chief. But he suspected it would not.

His own deep depression of the previous Friday had continued over the weekend and through yesterday, as the net of retribution tightened around Cynthia.

In his own personal domain there had been some change. Late Friday night he had told Karen of his decision to quit Homicide when this present duty was done, and the Police Department completely, though he wasn't sure about that. At the news, Karen had put her arms around him and, close to tears, assured him, "Darling, I'm so relieved. I've seen what these awful things do to you. You can't take any more, and you should get out altogether. Don't worry about the future; we'll manage! You're more important than anything else to me, to Jason, and" she touched her rounded stomach, now showing four months of pregnancy "and whoever."

That night with Karen he had spoken of Cynthia; he'd cited her childhood tragedies, described the woman filled with hate that those tragedies created, then told of Cynthia's crimes a fierce transfer of her hatred, with an impost under law now coming due.

Karen had listened, then reacted with some of her plain reasoning, which, through their nine years of marriage, he had come to know and value. "Of course I'm sorry for her; anyone would be, especially another woman. But the fact is, there's nothing either done to her or by her that can be undone now; it's all too late. So whatever happens, other people you and I especially don't have to share Cynthia's despair or guilt, and have our lives wrecked, too. So yes, Malcolm, do what you have to this very last time, and then get out!"