Phillip Margolin - Wild Justice

There's a call for you on line three, the receptionist told her.

Who is it?

He says he's Vincent Cardoni, the receptionist answered nervously. He asked for Mr. Jaffe. When I told him he was out of town, he insisted on speaking to you.

Amanda hesitated. It would be easy to have the receptionist tell Cardoni that she would not take the call, but her curiosity got the better of her.

Why are you calling this firm, Dr. Cardoni? Amanda demanded as soon as she picked up the receiver. Roy Bishop is your attorney.

Bishop has no credibility with the district attorney or the police.

That may be, but we are no longer your lawyers.

I paid your father a lot of money to represent me. He's still under retainer.

You can discuss that with him when he comes back to Portland at the end of the week. As far as I' m concerned, our professional relationship ended when you murdered my client.

But I didn' t. Please come to St. Francis. I have to talk to you.

You must be insane to think that I would come anywhere near you after what you did to Justine.

You have to come. Cardoni's voice was raw and needy.

The last time I agreed to meet with you, it didn't turn out so well. I think I'll pass.

This is more important than you know, Cardoni pleaded. You're in danger, and you're the only person who knows enough to understand.

Amanda hesitated. She had no interest in meeting Cardoni. The idea of being in the same room with him scared the hell out of her. But he sounded so disturbed and unsure of himself.

Listen carefully, Dr. Cardoni. You think we still have an attorney-client relationship, but we don' t. If you say anything incriminating, I'll walk straight from your hospital room to police headquarters and tell them every word you told me.

I'll take that chance.

Amanda was surprised by the response. Let me make myself clear, Doctor. I would like nothing better than to be the one who gives you your lethal injection.

I said I'll take that chance.

Amanda thought for a moment. She could hear Cardoni's ragged breathing on the other end of the line.

I will talk to you on one condition. I am going to bring a release with me. Once you sign it, the attorney-client privilege will no longer apply and I'll be free to tell the police anything you tell me. I'll also be free to testify against you in court. Will you sign the release?

Yes, I will.

A massive steel door separated the secured ward at St. Francis from a small entry area opposite the elevator. An orderly manned a desk in front of the door. He inspected Amanda's ID and briefcase, then pressed a button. Another orderly studied Amanda through a window made of bulletproof glass that was centered in the top half of the door. When he was satisfied, he let Amanda into the ward, relocked the door and escorted her to Cardoni's room. A policeman was sitting outside. He stood up when he heard footsteps tapping down the narrow hallway. Amanda handed her bar card and driver's license to the policeman.

I' m Dr. Cardoni's attorney.

Can you please open your briefcase?

Amanda complied, and he thumbed through her paperwork and inspected all of the compartments.

You'll have to leave the briefcase out here. You can bring in your papers and a pen, but don't give the pen to Dr. Cardoni.

I have a paper he has to sign.

Okay. I'll come in with you. He can sign in my presence.

Cardoni was dressed in a hospital gown and propped up on a hospital bed with his head slightly elevated. His arms were lying on top of his blanket, and Amanda saw the jagged scar that circled the surgeon's arm just above his right wrist. Cardoni's eyes followed Amanda as she crossed the room. She moved a chair near the bed but was careful to stay far enough away so he could not reach her. The policeman positioned himself at the end of the bed. Cardoni glanced at him.

You don't need a bodyguard, he said quietly. I' m not going to hurt you.

Cardoni looked tired and subdued. The bravado she had so often noticed was not present.

The policeman will leave as soon as you sign the release.

Cardoni held out his hand, and Amanda gave him the document and a pen. He read it quickly, signed and returned the pen.

I'll be watching through the window, the officer assured Amanda before leaving the room. Amanda sat stiffly, feeling very uncomfortable in the doctor's presence.

Thank you for coming, Cardoni said as soon as the lock clicked into place.

What did you want to tell me?

Cardoni closed his eyes and rested for a moment. He seemed weak and exhausted. I was wrong about Justine.

Clever move, Doctor. Who are you going to blame for your crimes now?

I know I' m fighting an uphill battle trying to convince you that I' m innocent, but please hear me out. Four years ago, after Justine buried me at my bail hearing, I was certain that she had framed me. And after I did this, Cardoni said, pointing at his scarred wrist, all I could think about was revenge for my hand, the time I' d spent in jail and the destruction of the life I' d built. I wanted her to suffer the way I was suffering.

Cardoni held his wrist out. Do you have any idea what it's like to saw off your own hand, to lose a part of yourself? Can you imagine what it would be like for a surgeon whose life is his hands? And the new hand. Cardoni laughed bitterly. Picking up a glass was like climbing Everest. Holding a pen, writing; my God, the hours I spent trying to master that simple task.

He paused and rubbed his eyes. And, of course, there were the victims. I believed that Justine would continue to kill and that no one would try to stop her because everyone thought that I was guilty.

I returned to Portland and took a job at St. Francis so I could keep an eye on Justine. I was certain that she had a new killing ground. It took me almost a year to find it. I spent hours looking at records, visiting properties that fit the profile, talking to attorneys until I discovered Mary Ann Jager on the Thursday before Justine was arrested. That night I went to the farm and found that poor bastard in the basement. He was already dead.

Cardoni closed his eyes again and took a deep, rasping breath before continuing. He looked as though he were trying to banish a bad dream.

I went back to the hospital and took the coffee mug. I already had a surgical cap with some of Justine's hair and a scalpel with her prints. I' d been saving them.

After planting everything at the farmhouse, I parked down the street from Justine's house and phoned her from my cell phone. She left and I followed. When I saw her make the turn from the highway onto the road that led to the farm, I called in the nine-one-one. I hoped that the police would find her at the farm. If she got away before they arrived, her prints would be on the items I left and everything she touched when she was there. An anonymous tip would lead the police to her.

Cardoni paused again. He looked depressed.

When I found the victim in the basement, I studied him so I could write a journal entry detailing what I was certain she had done to him. I learned the writing style when I read the journal in the farmhouse bedroom. As soon as I was sure that Justine was going to the farm, I wrote the journal entry on the computer in her house and left a copy.

Cardoni rubbed his eyes and sighed.

I was so certain that I was doing the right thing. I was so certain that Justine had framed me and killed all of those people. Seeing that man in the basement ... I was so certain ...

Cardoni's voice trailed off.

Everything was going exactly the way I planned it until Tony Fiori blew my cover. I knew the police would release Justine as soon as they realized that I was alive. I was desperate, so I had Roy Bishop set up that meeting with Mike Greene to try to convince him that Justine was guilty.