An Insignificant Case

Chapter Twenty-Six

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

When Bridget had been eating pancakes with Charlie, she had decided that the attack on her and the detectives had been an act of desperation, and that had given her an idea. When she got back to her office, she called Morris West, Leon Golden’s attorney, and said that she wanted to meet with West and his client at her office to discuss a deal. An hour later, West returned Bridget’s call. He said that Golden would listen to what she had to say, but after Makarov’s and Hall’s murders and the incident at the farm, he didn’t feel safe leaving his estate.

At four that afternoon, Sally Blaisedale and Bridget stopped at the main gate and told a security guard their names. A few minutes later, the prosecutor and the detective got their first view of Leon Golden’s mansion. Men with dogs were patrolling the estate, and Bridget’s gut tightened when she saw the logo on their jackets.

“Golden’s guards work for National Security,” Blaisedale said.

“I noticed.”

Bridget parked in a turnaround in front of the house, and two armed guards walked to her car. Bridget and Blaisedale flashed their identification.

“I apologize,” one of the security guards said, “but in light of everything that’s gone on, I have to make sure you aren’t armed.”

Bridget and Blaisedale could have refused to disarm, but confronting Golden was more important than forcing a showdown, so they surrendered their sidearms and submitted to a pat-down. When the guards were satisfied, they escorted Bridget and Blaisedale through a marble-tiled entryway, past a curved stairway that led to an upper floor, and down a hall to a study where Morris West and his client waited.

West was in his early sixties and dressed in a navy-blue, hand-tailored suit, a blue Hermès tie that matched the color of his suit, and a cream-colored silk shirt. His bald head had a fringe of gray hair, and he had grown a mustache and goatee to compensate for the hair loss. Bridget had dealt with West before, and she knew from experience that the Harvard grad was always at the top of his game.

West radiated confidence, but his client looked uncomfortable. Golden was wearing gray slacks, a blue shirt, and a gray sweater. His tan had faded because he had not gone outside of his mansion since his release on bail, and the styled hair he’d sported on the red carpet looked faded and loosely combed.

“Good afternoon, Bridget,” West said. “We heard about your ordeal at the farm. Are you okay?”

“Thanks for asking, but I’m fine.”

“We appreciate your driving out,” West said. “With everything that’s happened, I assume you of all people can appreciate why Leon wanted to meet here.”

Bridget smiled at West’s client. “You have a beautiful estate, Mr. Golden. It’s too bad you have to hole up here. But I have a proposition for you that might allow you to feel more secure.”

“We’re listening,” West said.

“I think that Mr. Weiss has a list of the men who had sex with the girls you supplied and a copy of a snuff film that was shown to the girls to frighten them into having sex. The people who sent the men who attacked me at the farm and murdered Gretchen Hall and Yuri Makarov must be desperate to get them back, and there’s a good chance that you are their next target because you can give me the names of the men on the list. If you cooperate, I can offer you a lesser sentence and protection.”

Golden flashed a humorless smile. “If I cooperate with you, no one can protect me.”

“That may be true, Mr. Golden, because you are employing guards from National Security, the firm that employed the men who tried to kill me at the farm.”

The color drained from Golden’s face.

“Is that true?” West asked to cover his surprise.

“Max Unger claims that the men were no longer working for his firm, but they were employed by National Security at one time. I’ve seen their employment records.”

“Was… was Max Unger… Did he send them?” Golden blurted out.

“Don’t say anything else, Leon,” West warned his client.

“Is Mr. Golden acquainted with Max Unger, aside from hiring his guards from his firm?” Bridget asked.

Golden looked at his attorney, who shook his head.

Bridget shrugged. “If Unger is one of the men on Weiss’s list, employing his firm to protect your client is like inviting the fox into the henhouse.”

“I think Mr. Golden and I have a lot to discuss,” West said. “We will consider your offer, and we’ll get back to you.”

“You know where to find me, Morris. Oh, by the way, Mr. Golden, are you certain that no one has planted any listening devices in your house? You might want to hire someone who doesn’t work for National Security to check it out.”

Bridget left the mansion and drove back to Portland with a smile on her face.

As soon as Bridget and Blaisedale left, Golden began to pace. He was sweating, and he looked distraught.

“Do you know someone who can check the house for wiretaps?” Golden asked his lawyer.

“I do know someone, but I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Well, I do, and I want the house swept ASAP.”

“Fournier was playing mind games with you. No one has been tapping your phones or bugging your rooms. You’ve got to calm down, Leon.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Just get someone out here who can find out if my house is bugged.”

“All right. I’ll call when I get back to my office.”

They talked for fifteen more minutes before West drove back to town. As soon as he was alone, Golden grabbed a burner phone and called Max Unger.

“Why are you calling me?” Max Unger asked.

“Did you send the men to Weiss’s farm?” Golden asked.

“You’re asking me a question like that on a telephone?”

“It’s a burner, and I’m asking because the prosecutor in my case and a detective just left my house after telling me that the men at the farm worked for you, and they think your men murdered Gretchen and Yuri.”

“They visited me too, and I told them that the men who shot up the farm did work for National Security, but they weren’t employed by us now. And no one I know killed Yuri or Gretchen.”

“But the men from the farm did work for you?”

“I never heard of them until the detectives told me, Leon. I employ hundreds of men and women all over the world, but I only know a handful personally.”

“Am I in danger?”

“From me? Of course not. I have my people protecting you because someone killed Yuri and Gretchen.”

“I don’t know what to believe.”

“You’ve got to hold it together, Leon. The only reason you’d be in danger is if you made a deal with the DA.”

“Is that a threat?”

“I’d never come after you, but there are a number of powerful people who might if they thought you were going to name names. As long as you don’t cave and cooperate with the authorities, you’re safe.”

“Okay. I get that,” Golden said, but his mouth was dry and his heart rate was through the ceiling.

“One more thing,” Unger said. “Do not call me again.”

Bridget was in her office for less than a half hour when Thomas Grant walked in.

“Hey, Bridget,” Grant said as he took a chair across from his deputy. “I hear you were out at Leon Golden’s estate.”

“Who told you?”

“Morris West. He said you threatened his client.”

“That’s absolutely false. I’m certain Gretchen Hall and Yuri Makarov were murdered because of their involvement in Golden’s sex trafficking ring. I told him that he was in danger too, and we could protect him if we made a deal. I did want to scare him, but I did that by laying out facts, not threats.”

“I guess Morris put a spin on the visit,” Grant said.

Bridget looked directly at her boss. “Yes, he did.”

“Is Golden going to make a deal?”

“Morris was going to let me know tomorrow, but I take his whining to you as an indication that he’s not.”

“Where does our case stand?” Grant asked. “We’re getting close to the trial date.”

“I was certain that I could turn Gretchen Hall. Now that she’s dead, the case is floundering. The women will testify, but they have no evidence to support their claims.”

“So, we’re in trouble?”

“There is one possibility. When Lawrence Weiss stole a painting from Hall’s restaurant, he also took something from her safe. He won’t say what it is, but the attack on the two detectives and me is strong proof that the people involved in the sex ring are desperate to get it back. If I can get Weiss to give me what he has, it might give us a winning hand.”

“But you don’t know what he has?”

“No.”

“And he won’t turn it over?”

Bridget sighed. “Weiss is insane, but Charlie Webb, his lawyer, is desperate to convince Weiss to give me what he has. He knows Weiss’s life is in danger as long as he holds on to the evidence from the safe.”

“It sounds like the success of our case hinges on Webb’s ability to convince his client to make a deal,” Grant said.

Bridget sighed. “I’m afraid you’re right.”