An Erin McCabe Legal Thriller

Chapter 2

9

From her perch in the last booth, Erin had a full view of anyone coming into the Liberty Tavern. The place was deserted. She glanced at her watch. The lunch crowd had long gone, and the happy hour crowd wasn’t due for another two hours. The only people in the place were a couple of guys sitting at the bar, who occasionally looked over their shoulders checking her out. Don’t get any ideas, guys, she thought.

Kluska had asked to meet at two thirty p.m. Thirty minutes later, Erin was beginning to wonder how much longer she should wait when she saw him walk in. He stood by the front of the bar, temporarily blinded by the shift from bright sunlight to the bar’s dim interior. Then, after about ten seconds, he started walking toward her. It looked like he had put on a few pounds – maybe more than a few – but he was still a hard guy to forget. He dropped onto the bench on the opposite side, causing the entire booth to shudder, and put a file folder on the table in front of him.

‘Wasn’t sure you’d recognize me. It’s been a few years,’ Erin said, a grin spreading across her face.

‘Jesus Christ, McCabe, I’m a f*****g detective. You don’t think I know how to go to your f*****g website to find your picture?’

‘Honestly, Ed, I just guessed you got lucky and figured the two guys at the bar were too big to be little ol’ me.’

Kluska’s mouth twisted. ‘You may be a skirt now, but doesn’t mean I won’t call you an asshole.’

‘Thanks. Good to see you too.’

A waitress sauntered out of the kitchen. ‘You want something to drink?’ she asked.

‘Club with lime,’ he replied.

‘You want another ginger ale?’ she asked Erin.

‘Please.’

‘Menus?’ she asked.

‘Not for me,’ Erin replied.

‘No,’ he said.

‘They do have a pretty good bar pie,’ he said after she walked away, ‘if you’re hungry.’

She shook her head no. ‘Sounds like you come here often.’

‘Back in the day, when I was still playing softball – and still drinking – this was a regular postgame watering hole. But I haven’t had a drink in ten years and haven’t played softball in about eight, so not for a while. Figured no one would recognize me this time of day. Besides, had to take it out of county, but not too far, in case I needed to get back in a hurry. Woodbridge was perfect.’

‘Sounds mysterious,’ she said as the waitress slid their drinks onto the table.

Kluska took a swig of his club soda. ‘Look, McCabe, I’ll explain everything, but first I need a guarantee from you.’

‘Of course. You and I were always on opposite sides, but I always thought you were a good detective; if you’re in some kind of trouble, just say so, and this will be a privileged conversation.’

He snorted. ‘Nothing that easy. I need it to be beyond privileged – I need it to be that this meeting never took place.’

She gave him a quizzical look. Meeting him was one thing; lying about it was another. ‘Ed…’

‘Humor me,’ he interrupted. ‘Could be my job on the line.’

‘Okay,’ she replied, both troubled and intrigued. ‘But if I don’t like where this is going, I’m out of here.’

He pointed to the manila folder on the table. ‘You hear about a murder in Westfield about five months ago, a guy by the name of Charles Parsons?’

She nodded. ‘Sure. His daughter pled guilty last week, right?’

‘Yeah, that’s the one. This is a copy of the discovery in the case,’ he said, putting his hand on the file folder. Before Erin could say anything, he motioned for her to wait. ‘Ann Parsons took a plea to aggravated manslaughter. Under the deal, she’ll get a flat twenty, with an eighty-five percent parole disqualifier – so minimum of seventeen, maxes out at twenty. She gets sentenced in four weeks.’

‘Flat twenty doesn’t sound like a bad deal. How old is she?’ Erin asked.

‘Twenty-five, I think,’ Kluska replied.

‘So she gets out in her mid-forties, has a second chance at life. So what’s going on, Ed, why are we here?’

Kluska took another gulp of his club soda and stroked his beard. ‘I don’t think she did it,’ he said flatly. ‘There’s something off here, and I can’t figure it out.’

Erin’s face scrunched, and her eyes narrowed. ‘Ed, you’re the detective. Isn’t that your job – to figure it out?’

‘You ever deal with Tom Willis?’

Erin was trying to keep up with the conversation. ‘Yeah, I tried two murder cases against him back when I was with the PD’s office.’

‘What did you think of him?’

‘Honestly?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Arrogant asshole,’ she said without hesitation.

‘He hasn’t changed. I told him before we arrested Parsons there were pieces that didn’t fit, but he’s convinced we got the right person. Or he just doesn’t give a s**t because he’s basically a lazy f**k, and if a piece of the puzzle doesn’t fit, he’ll just throw it away.’

‘Don’t sugarcoat it, Ed, tell me how you really feel.’

He gave her a dirty look. ‘As far as Willis is concerned, she’s pled guilty; case closed.’

‘To be fair, Ed, that’s the way it usually works. Isn’t it? You don’t typically keep investigating a case after someone pleads guilty,’ she said.

‘Don’t be a smart-a*s,’ he fired back with a scowl. ‘I don’t know why she pled guilty. But I’ve been doing this job for a long time, and I’ve learned to trust my gut – and my gut is screaming that she didn’t do it. I want you to help her.’

She leaned forward trying to gauge his motive. ‘Ed, clearly this is important to you, but what am I missing? If you’re so convinced she’s not guilty, why aren’t you having this conversation with her attorneys?’

‘I have my doubts about whose side they’re on. She’s represented by a couple of lawyers from Winston Drapper, hired by the executrix of her father’s estate.’

Erin knew Winston Drapper only by reputation. Based in Manhattan, they were one of the biggest firms in the country. Any attorney they had handling criminal cases was likely a former federal prosecutor or came out of the Manhattan DA’s office. It was odd they’d be involved in defending someone in New Jersey on a state murder charge. Usually, they handled criminal investigations involving Fortune 500 companies. Still…

‘I don’t know anyone there, but they’re all supposed to be topnotch lawyers,’ she offered.

‘Maybe, but they didn’t do s**t in this case. They got discovery, and a couple months later, they pled her guilty – no motions, no nothing.’

‘So why me?’ she asked. ‘It’s not like you and I have had a lot of cases together, and the ones we did, my clients were convicted.’

Kluska’s eyes flashed. ‘To start with, when I knew you as a PD, I always thought you were a decent attorney. Granted, you were brand-s******g new, but you had a presence in the courtroom that you can’t teach. And I followed the case you had last year down in Ocean County. From what I read, you and your partner had to put up with some crazy bullshit. But the main reason is…’ He stopped, his intense look replaced by something almost sheepish. ‘Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve got more balls than a lot of attorneys… you know, just to do what you did,’ he said, motioning to Erin with his hands. ‘That took a lot of guts. Parsons needs someone she can trust, someone who will understand her, someone who’s walked in her shoes.’

Erin was now totally confused. ‘Ed, what the hell are you talking about?’

‘Ann Parsons is a transgendered,’ he said, as if throwing down a gauntlet.

‘What?’

‘You heard me. She’s just like you. Isn’t that what you are – transgendered?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s transgender – an adjective. I’m a transgender woman, not transgendered.’

‘Whatever. She was born a guy, like you.’

Erin closed her eyes and made a decision not to get into a debate on Kluska’s terminology. ‘I don’t remember seeing anything in the paper about her being trans.’

‘There hasn’t been anything. No one found out until after her plea. Once she pled, the estate moved to have her bail exonerated, and Judge Spiegel had no choice but to remand her to the Union County jail to await sentencing. From what I’m told, her medical exam determined she was born a guy and they were going to move her to the male side of the jail.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know all the gory details, but apparently she had s*x change surgery a number of years ago, so she’s being housed in the women’s section of the jail.’

Erin hoped her wince was noticeable. She hated the term ‘s*x change surgery.’ The phrase screamed like a tabloid headline – SO-AND-SO HAD s*x CHANGE SURGERY! But the fact that Kluska, a hard-boiled detective in the classic sense, was sensitive to Ann’s situation surprised Erin. She decided she didn’t want to appear pedantic by correcting him.

‘Okay, assuming she’s a transgender woman, I don’t see how that plays into why you think I can help her.’

Kluska looked exasperated. ‘Don’t go stupid on me now! There isn’t another f*****g lawyer in the state that will understand her the way you can. She needs someone she can trust, and who better than you?’

‘You’re making a lot of assumptions here. One, that she wants help; two, that she doesn’t or can’t trust her current lawyers; and three, that even if I wanted to help, there is something I can do for her. There’s also the small detail that she already has counsel – it’s not like I can just walk into the Union County jail and tell her I want to represent her.’

‘You find a quasi-legitimate reason to see her, and I’ll get you on her visitors list. When you have a reason, text me at the number I texted you from.’

He slid the file across the table, then downed what was left of his club soda. ‘Take this. Read it carefully. And, McCabe? I’ve never done anything remotely like this in my career. This blows up and my career is over. But I’ve never had a case where there’s something so rotten that the stench makes me sick.’

‘Why are you so sure?’ she asked.

‘There’s a recording of the murder. I’ve listened to it, I don’t know, maybe a hundred times.’ He stood up. ‘I’m convinced it’s not Ann Parsons on that recording. So was the detective who found the recording. She wanted to do a voice analysis comparison, but Willis shot that down.’ He looked down at Erin and raised an eyebrow. ‘Twenty years is a long f*****g time, McCabe. Think about it. You’re her only hope.’

Erin waited until he was out of the bar to look at the file he had left on the table. Then she stuffed it into her pocketbook, put money on the table to cover their tab, and walked out into the sunlight.