A Matter of Life and Death Phillip Margolin (novels to read in english .TXT) 📖

too. We know you didn’t kill Mrs. Carasco, that you were set up. All of the charges have been dismissed. So, you’re a free man. You’ll be out of jail in a few hours.”

Robin expected Joe to be ecstatic, but he didn’t look happy.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I really do. You’re fantastic. But Maria, me, and the baby are still homeless. At least with me in jail, Conchita and Maria could stay in the shelter. Now, we’ll be back on the street with no money and no prospects.”

Robin smiled. “Did you think I was going to abandon you after the case was finished? I talked to Barry McGill. He remembered you. Barry’s got work for you at the gym. It’s mostly janitorial, but he said he can also get work for you as a sparring partner, and there are some young kids who could use coaching. That will give you an income while you look for a better job, and I’ll use some of my contacts to see if I can line one up.

“And you won’t have to live on the street. Barry invested in rental property over the years, and he’s going to let you stay in one of his apartments. It’s not fancy, but he’ll hold up on the rent until you have a steady income.”

“Does Maria know I’m free?”

“As soon as you’re out, my associate, Loretta Washington, is going to drive you to the shelter. You can tell her yourself.”

Joe began to sob. “I’m sorry,” he said as he swiped at his eyes.

Robin placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Don’t be. You’ve been through hell, and you deserve a good cry.”

“One more question,” Joe said when he had calmed down. “Do the police know who set me up?”

Robin nodded. “We’re pretty sure Betsy’s husband, Judge Carasco, was behind the plot to have his wife killed.”

“Is he under arrest?”

“No. The police are looking for him. It’s just a matter of time before they find him.”

After she left the jail, Robin walked back to the law office. As soon as she’d checked her messages, she found the contact number Helen Raptis had left for her.

“Mrs. Raptis, this is Robin Lockwood. I have news for you. We know what happened to Betsy. Joe Lattimore is completely innocent. You were right; Judge Carasco paid to have your daughter killed.”

“I knew the sick son of a bitch killed her. Is he in jail?”

“No. The police are looking for him. Sal Benedetto, the man who did the actual killing, is being held in California. Two other people who were involved in the plot are in custody and have agreed to cooperate with the prosecutor.”

“Thank you for letting me know. How did the police find out that Carasco killed Betsy?”

“I’ll let the authorities give you that information. There are confidential sources involved, and I don’t know how much I’m allowed to tell you.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Not a cent. Joe is my client. I just wanted you to know what was happening. I hope it brings you some peace of mind.”

“I’ll have peace of mind when that bastard is executed.”

PART FIVETHE WAGES OF SIN

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

“That’s all anyone’s talking about,” Portland police officer Marty Webb said as he pointed his bacon cheeseburger at the television over the bar where he and Paul Reese were taking their break.

On the screen, a female talking head was asking a male talking head where he thought the Honorable Anthony Carasco would be found. The male talking head said that the judge was rumored to be in Mexico, Eastern Europe, or dead.

“He forgot outer space,” Reese answered as he polished off his BLT.

“And Easter Island,” Webb said.

It was four in the morning on Saturday when the officers walked out of the bar. A cold front had swept in shortly after midnight. Webb hunched his shoulders and cursed the weather. His partner didn’t seem to mind the frigid air. Reese started the engine moments before the dispatcher told them that there had been a report of a dead body at the Grandview apartments. Fifteen minutes later, their headlights illuminated a security guard who was pacing back and forth next to his car in the parking lot. He looked stressed. Reese parked next to the guard.

“You the one who called in a body?” he asked.

“Bert Solomon. I work for Northwest Security. We patrol several apartment complexes in the city on a rotating basis. A woman named Stacey Hayes lives in number 5, but her car hasn’t been in her spot for a while, and the place has been dark. When I got here just before midnight on Thursday night, I saw a car driving very slowly through the parking lot. It looked suspicious, so I drove over to talk to the driver. As I approached, the car sped up and drove away.

“Moments later, I noticed a light on in number 5 and a car parked in Miss Hayes’s spot. It wasn’t the one that was usually there, but I thought she might have bought a new car. I stopped in front of the door. It was closed, so I drove on.

“I didn’t look that closely again at number 5 until tonight. That’s when I noticed that the door wasn’t completely closed. I knocked. When no one answered, I called for Miss Hayes. There was still no answer, so I took a few steps inside. That’s when the odor hit me. I’ve been in combat, and I knew the smell. When I went into the bedroom, I saw a man lying on the floor. It was the guy everyone is looking for.”

Vanessa Cole walked around the lab techs who were working in the living room and followed Anders and Dillon to the bedroom entrance. She stopped to study Anthony Carasco’s corpse, which sprawled facedown on a bloodstained carpet. Then she shook her head.

“I thought we had this case gift wrapped and secured with a nice red bow.”

“Someone wants to