And for the rest of Lacys saga, be sure topre-order your copy.
With the complaint on file, the clock was ticking.
By then it would be imperative to know as much as possible.
First, though, they needed to visit death row.
Hugo had been there once, on a field trip in law school.
Lacy had heard about Starke her entire career, but had never found the excuse to see it.
The prison was two and a half hours away.
Investigators with far more resources and experience should get the nod on this one.
They were lawyers, after all, not cops.
They didnt want to carry guns.
They were trained to go after corrupt judges, not organized crime syndicates.
These thoughts had kept her from sleeping most of the night.
When she caught herself yawning, she whipped into a fast-food drive-thru and ordered coffee.
Wake up, she scolded her partner.
We have an hour and a half to go and I cant stay awake either.
Sorry, Hugo said, rubbing his eyes.
They slugged coffee, and as she drove Hugo summarized one of Sadelles memos.
Its all a shell game but its legal.
What kinds of cases?
The county sued Nylan in a dispute over property valuations and taxes.
Who shows up on behalf of Nylan?
The same lawyer out of Biloxi.
Hes the corporate mouthpiece and seems to know whats going on.
If Nylan is indeed Vonn Dubose, then hes well hidden, just like Myers says.
Layers of lawyers, as he put it.
Hugo took a sip of coffee and put down the memo.
He said, Look, Lacy, I dont trust Greg Myers.
He doesnt really inspire trust.
But you have to admit that, so far, everything he has said has checked out.
If hes using us, whats his endgame?
I was asking the same question at three thirty this morning.
We have to catch Judge McDover with a pile of cash.
If Vonn Dubose and his boys get busted, fine, but how does that help Myers?
It doesnt, unless of course McDover goes up in flames with Dubose.
He is using us, Hugo.
Hes filed a complaint alleging corrupt judicial practices, or outright thievery.
Its our job to investigate.
Anyone who files a complaint against a judge is using us to find the truth.
Thats the nature of our jobs.
Sure it is, but something is not right with this guy.
I have the same gut feeling.
I like Geismars strategy.
Myers cant stop us from doing that.
Agreed, but he can disappear and never talk to us again.
What else did Sadelle pack for our pleasant drive to Starke?
Hugo picked up another memo.
Just some background on Judge McDover.
Her elections, campaigns, opponents, stuff like that.
Since elections are nonpartisan, were not sure about her politics.
No record of contributions to other candidates in other races.
No previous complaints filed with BJC.
No complaints filed with the State Bar.
No felonies or misdemeanors.
Since 1998, she has received the highest rating by the State Bar Association.
She writes a lot and theres a long list of papers shes published in legal magazines and such.
She also likes to speak at seminars and law schools.
She even taught a course in trial practice at FSU three years ago.
Quite the resume, really.
More so than our average circuit court judge.
Not much in the way of assets.
Title issued in her name, McDover, which happens to be her maiden name.
She reacquired it right after the divorce and has used it since.
Law school was at Stetson, where she was a top student.
Undergraduate degree from North Florida in Jacksonville.
Some stuff about her divorce from her doctor husband but not worth the time.
Lacy listened intently and sipped more coffee.
If Myers is correct, shes skimming cash from an Indian casino.
Thats rather hard to believe, dont you think?
I mean, one of our circuit judges elected by the people and so highly regarded.
Weve seen judges do some bizarre things, but nothing as bold as this.
How do you explain it?
Youre a single woman with a career.
You answer the question.
Whats the other memo?
Hugo fished through his briefcase and pulled out some papers.
Only California had more men on death row than Florida.
California, with little interest in executing people, had 650.
Florida longed to be another Texas, but its appellate courts kept getting in the way.
Last year, 2010, only one man was lethally injected at Starke.
They parked in a crowded lot and hiked to an administration building.
As lawyers working for the state, their visit had been facilitated.
A sign on the door read Attorney Conferences.
The guard opened another door to a small enclosed area with a sheet of Plexiglas dividing it.
First trip to death row?
Lacy said, Yes.
Hugo said, I came here once when I was in law school.
You got the consent form?
I do, Hugo replied as he put his briefcase on the table and unzipped it.
Junior Mace was represented pro bono by a large Washington firm.
Hugo pulled out a sheet of paper and the guard took his time reading it.
Lacy looked away and didnt want to respond.
Each prisoner was kept in solitary confinement for twenty-three hours a day.
Each cell was six feet by nine, with a nine-foot ceiling.
Each bed was smaller than a twin-size and just inches away from a stainless steel toilet.
Total isolation leads to sensory deprivation and all sorts of mental problems.
Said movement had not made it to Florida.
A door on the other side opened and a guard walked through it.
Another guard followed him.
They removed the handcuffs and left the room.
Junior Mace took two steps and sat down at the table on his side.
The Plexiglas separated them.
Hugo and Lacy took their seats and for a few seconds things were awkward.
He was fifty-two years old.
His hair was long, thick, and gray, swept back into a ponytail.
His skin was dark and had not been bleached by the isolation.
His eyes were dark too, large and brown and sad.
He was tall and lean with well-formed biceps.
Probably does a lot of push-ups, Hugo thought.
According to the file, his wife, Eileen, was thirty-two when she died.
They had three children, all raised by relatives after Junior was arrested and sent away.
He was holding his phone.
He shrugged, said nothing.
I got it, he said.
I agreed to the meeting.
He spoke slowly, as if every word had to be considered first.
Hugo said, So, uh, were not here to talk about your case.
We cant help you there, and besides you have some good lawyers in Washington.
I guess theyre doing their job.
What do you want from me?
Lacy said, Information.
We need the names of people we can talk to.
Tappacola, the ones on the good side, your side.
That is another world for us, and we cant just show up one day and start asking questions.
His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned down, like an inverted smile.
I was convicted in 1996 and taken away, shackled in the back of a van.
That was before the casino was built, so Im not sure I can really help you.
They had to get me out of the way, me and Son, before they could build it.
They murdered Son, along with my wife, and they got me convicted for it.
Do you know who did it?
He actually smiled, though the humor did not make it to his eyes.
There were some people in the background, some outsiders who eased their way into the picture.
Our Chief at the time was a good man who got corrupted.
Son and I fought back and we won the first vote in 1993.
When our people turned it down the first time, these folks decided to get rid of Son.
And me too, I guess.
They figured out a way to do it.
The casino has been printing cash for a decade now.
Lacy asked, Ever heard the name of Vonn Dubose?
He paused and seemed to flinch slightly.
That would be an interesting conversation on the ride home.
Remember, he said, Ive been gone for a long time.
Fifteen years here in solitary eats away at your soul, your spirit, and your brain.
Ive lost a lot, and I cant always remember what I should.
But you wouldnt forget Vonn Dubose if you knew him, Lacy said, pushing.
Junior clenched his jaws and shook his head.
Hugo said, Im assuming you have a low opinion of Judge McDover.
She presided over a joke of a trial and made sure an innocent man was convicted.
Shes covering up, too.
Ive always suspected she knew more than she should have.
It was all a nightmare, Mr. Hatch.
By then the system was clicking right along and everybody I looked at was a bad guy.
In no time flat I got framed, convicted, sentenced, and here I am.
Whats the judge covering up?
I suspect she knows I didnt kill Son and Eileen.
How many people know the truth?
Junior placed the phone on the table and rubbed his eyes as if he hadnt slept in days.
With his right hand he raked his fingers through his thick hair, all the way to the ponytail.
Slowly, he picked up the phone and said, Not many.
Most people consider me a killer.
They believe the story, and why not?
Ill get it one day, and theyll haul me back to Brunswick County and bury me somewhere.
The story will live on and on.
Junior Mace caught his wife with another man and killed them both in an act of rage.
Thats a pretty good story, right?
Nothing was said for a moment.
Lacy and Hugo scribbled away as they tried to think of their next question.
If youre not in a hurry, believe me Im not either.
Its about a hundred degrees in my cell right now.
Theres no ventilation, so my little fan just pushes the hot air around.
This is a nice break for me, and I welcome you back anytime youre in the neighborhood.
Thanks, Hugo replied.
Do you get many visitors?
Not as many as I would like.
My kids stop by occasionally but those are hard visits.
For years I wouldnt allow them to see me here and they really grew up fast.
Im even a grandfather, but Ive never seen my grandkids.
Got pictures, though, all over my wall.
How would you like that?
Four grandchildren and Ive never been able to touch them.
Who raised your kids?
My mother helped until she died.
My brother Wilton and his wife did most of it, and they did the best they could.
Just a bad situation.
Imagine being a kid and your mother gets murdered.
Everybody says your father did it and they send him to death row.
Do your kids think youre guilty?
They got the truth from Wilton and my mother.
Would Wilton talk to us?
Im not sure hell want to get involved.
You gotta understand that life is pretty good these days for our people, much better than before.
Looking back, Im not sure Son and I were on the right side when we fought the casino.
Its called the dividend.
Even me, sitting here on death row, Im collecting the dividends.
I would save it for my kids but they dont need it.
So, I send it to my lawyers in Washington, figure thats the least I could do.
When they took my case, there was no dividend system and they certainly didnt expect any money.
Every Tappacola gets free health care, free education, and college expenses if he or she wants it.
We have our own bank and make low interest loans for houses and cars.
As I said, life there is pretty good, much better than before.Thats the good part.
On the downside, there are pretty serious motivational problems, especially among the young.
Why go to college and pursue a career when your income is guaranteed for life?
Why try and find a job?
The casino employs about half of the adults in the tribe, and thats a constant source of friction.
Who gets an easy job and who doesnt?
Theres a lot of infighting and politics involved.
But on the whole, the tribe realizes that it has a good thing going.
Why rock the boat?
Why should anyone worry about me?
Why should Wilton help you bring down a crooked judge when everyone might get hurt in the process?
Are you aware of corruption at the casino?
Mace put the phone down and rummaged through his hair again, as if painfully pondering the question.
His hesitancy suggested he was struggling not with the truth but with which version of it.
Ive never laid eyes on it.
Hugo said, Come on, Mr. Mace.
You said yourself its a tiny tribe.
A big casino for a small group of people.
It must be impossible to keep secrets.
Surely youve heard the rumors.
Tell me about them.
Rumors of cash being skimmed and taken out the back door.
Youve never heard this?
I may have heard that rumor but that doesnt mean I know anything.
Who can we talk to?
You must have a good source or you wouldnt be here.
Go back to your source.
Maybe later, Hugo said.
But for now, we need someone on the ground, someone who knows the casino.
Mace was shaking his head.
Wilton is my only source and he doesnt say much.
Lacy asked, Would you call Wilton and say its okay to talk to us?
And what do I gain from that?
I dont know you.
I dont know if you could be trusted.
I need to think about it.
Where does Wilton live?
On the reservation, not far from the casino.
He tried to get a job there but they turned him down.
No one in my family works at the casino.
They wont hire them.
Those who fought the casino are basically blacklisted and cant work there.
They still get their checks, but they dont get the jobs.
And how do they feel about you?
Those who supported the casino hated me from the beginning.
Needless to say, I dont have a lot of fans among my people.
And my family pays the price.
He stretched some more, cracked his knuckles, sat down, and picked up the phone.
I dont see it.
My trial was over a long time ago.
All of her rulings have been picked apart on appeal, and by some very good lawyers.
We think she was wrong on several of them.
But the majority rules and here I am.
The two jailhouse snitches who effectively nailed my conviction and sent me away disappeared years ago.
Did you know that?
Lacy said, I saw it in a memo.
Both vanished at about the same time.
One, and the best, is that both were rubbed out not long after my conviction was affirmed.
And the second theory?
That they were taken out by my people in revenge.
I doubt this, but its not completely far-fetched.
Emotions were high and I guess anything was possible.
Regardless, the two snitches vanished and have not been seen in years.
I hope theyre dead.
They put me here.
Lacy said, Were not supposed to be talking about your case.
Its all I have to talk about, and who really cares?
This is all a matter of public record now.
So thats at least four dead bodies, Hugo said.
Finally, he said, Depends on how hard you dig.
