Phillip Margolin - Wild Justice

I don't think he's human. I think he's some kind of mutant, a monster.

I see we share the same view of Vincent.

I can't think of many people who wouldn't think that way.

Will he try to kill me, Mr. Vasquez?

I think he has to kill, and he won't stop with you, Bobby answered without hesitation.

Will the police be able to stop him?

Honestly, no. He's going to disappear. Then he's going to surface someplace else. Sooner or later he'll buy another property and start his experiments again. I don't think he can stop himself. I don't think he wants to stop.

Then what can be done to stop him? Justine asked. There was a determined set to her jaw.

What do you mean? he asked, even though he was certain he knew.

We both hate Vincent, Mr. Vasquez, and neither one of us thinks the police are capable of dealing with him. I' m certain that he'll try to kill me. If not today or tomorrow, then someday when I least expect it.

Vasquez could feel Justine's eyes boring into him.

I do not want to live in fear.

What are you suggesting?

How badly do you want to stop Vincent, Mr. Vasquez? How far would you be willing to go?

Chapter 56

Vincent Cardoni slept through the night and awoke at nine. He wanted to take a run, but he didn't want to deal with the reporters who were certain to be lurking about, so he moved some furniture and worked up a sweat with calisthenics. After his workout, Cardoni showered, then ordered a light breakfast from room service. He tried reading the newspaper but found that he couldn't concentrate. Cardoni walked to the window. A tanker was passing under the Hawthorne Bridge on the way to Swan Island against the magnificent backdrop of Mt. Hood's snowy slopes. The scene should have brought him peace, but thoughts of Justine kept intruding.

The day passed slowly. By late afternoon Cardoni was thoroughly bored and still had no plan for dealing with his ex-wife. It was soon after the room service waiter cleared his dinner that he spotted the cheap white envelope someone had slipped under his door. The envelope bore no return address. His name was typed on the front. He sat on the sofa in the sitting room and opened it. Inside were two pieces of paper. The first was a map of I-5. A rest area several miles south of Portland was circled. 11:00 P.M. was typed on the map.

The second sheet was a photocopy of a journal entry.

Thursday: Subject is still combative after four days of applied pain, sleep deprivation and minimal food. 8:10: Subject bound and gagged and placed in upstairs closet at end of hall. Turned out lights in house, drove off, then parked and doubled back. Watched from woods. 8:55: Subject exits house, naked and barefoot, armed with kitchen knife. Remarkable strength of character. Breaking her will be a challenge. 9:00: Subject stunned by my sudden appearance, attacks with knife but Taser stops her. Subject in shock when told that bonds had been intentionally loosened to permit escape as test to see how fast she would get out compared to other subjects. Subject sobs as I put on the training hood and handcuffs. Will begin pain resistance experiments immediately to test whether crushing subject's expectation of escape has lowered her resistance.

Cardoni checked his watch. It was eight-forty-five. He read the journal entry one more time before going into his bedroom. DAs and cops said that Roy Bishop was a criminal lawyer in the truest sense of the phrase. One advantage of retaining Bishop was the attorney's willingness to render services that other, less pricey lawyers were unwilling to provide. Cardoni opened a small valise that Bishop had left for him and took out a handgun and a hunting knife.

Mike Greene answered his phone after the second ring.

Hey, Sean. I hope this is good news.

Would you consider it good news if I could prove that Vincent Cardoni phoned in the nine-one-one on the evening of Justine Castle's arrest and made the call that lured her to the farm? I was rereading the report of the first officer on the scene. There were no phones in the farmhouse, so I asked myself how Cardoni called Dr. Castle and phoned in the nine-one-one. Volkov owned a cell phone. His records show he placed calls to the emergency operator and Dr. Castle's apartment on the evening of Dr. Castle's arrest.

Great work, Sean!

Do we have enough for a warrant for Cardoni's arrest?

Meet me at Judge Campbell's house. Let's see what she thinks.

Vasquez knew a maid who worked at the Warwick. Her boyfriend delivered room service. For fifty bucks they were willing to call Vasquez on his cell phone when the doctor left his room. For fifty bucks more one of the garage attendants at the hotel let Vasquez park in a space a few slots down from Cardoni's car. At 9:10 the maid told him that Cardoni was on the move. Vasquez ducked down in his seat and waited. Moments later the surgeon emerged from the elevator and got into his car. He was dressed in jeans, a black turtleneck and a dark windbreaker.

Vasquez had no trouble following Cardoni onto I-5 south. There wasn't much traffic, so he kept a car or two between him and his quarry. When Cardoni turned off at a rest area Vasquez followed him. Cardoni parked near the concrete rest room. The only other vehicle in the rest area was a semi hauling a load of produce. It was parked near the rest room. As he passed by, Vasquez saw that the cab of the truck was empty.

Vasquez parked at the far end of the lot and turned off his engine. Moments later the trucker walked out of the men's room and drove off. Cardoni left his car and entered the rest room. Fifteen minutes later he had not reappeared.

Vasquez got out of his car and moved through the picnic area toward the rest room, using the trees as cover. He circled behind the concrete building and paused to listen. He was about to move again when he heard the sound of someone struggling. Vasquez edged along the side of the building and chanced a quick look around the corner. Something was huddled in the shadows under a bench. It looked like a body. Vasquez was certain that it had not been there when he drove into the lot. He was debating whether to check out the body or wait in the shadows when he heard a noise behind him.

Chapter 57

Amanda was working on a discovery motion when the intercom buzzed.

Mary Ann Jager is on line one, the receptionist said.

Amanda recognized the name of the attorney who had purchased the farm.

This is Amanda Jaffe. How can I help you?

I, uh, I' m not sure if I' m calling the right person. Jager sounded nervous. You represent Justine Castle, right?

Yes.

Is Robert Vasquez working for you?

Yes.

He, uh, he visited my office recently and wanted to know about some property. It's the place where all those people were murdered. I read that Castle was charged with the murders and that you're her lawyer. I can't get in touch with him, so I decided to call you.

About what?

There was someone else who came around asking about the property. Mr. Vasquez showed me a picture but it wasn't him. He, uh, he said there was some money in it if I could tell him who it was. Are you still interested?

Yes.

I never told anyone but Mr. Vasquez about this man, not even the cops, so you'll be the only one who knows.

Who was it?

Vasquez said that he would pay me for that information.

How much did he say he' d give you?

Why don't you come to my office with three hundred dollars? I' m just a few blocks away.

Amanda knocked on Frank's doorjamb.

Got a second? she asked when Frank looked up from his work.

Sure. What's up?

I just visited Mary Ann Jager, the attorney who bought the farm where the bodies in the Castle case were found. When Bobby Vasquez interviewed her, she told him that someone else had asked about the property shortly before he did. Bobby showed her an old picture of Cardoni, but she couldn't identify him. Last night she saw the man on the evening news in a story about Justine's case. When she couldn't get in touch with Vasquez, she called me.