Second Degree (Benjamin Davis Book Series 2) Page 23
“I thought you just left to make those phone calls. You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got a lot more questions for you. I need to determine what happened. I’ll ask you again. Do I have your permission to search the apartment?”
“Absolutely not! I know my rights. Arrest me, take me into custody for questioning, or let me out of here. I’m not saying anything without my lawyer.”
As the words came out of Charlie’s mouth, a severe migraine headache emerged over his right eye. He grimaced in pain. He was in no mood to answer questions.
“Back off! I’ve had a bad day. This conversation can wait.”
She realized that it would be better to let him win this round and let him start feeling a little overconfident and arrogant. He’d be more likely to make a mistake under those circumstances.
Haber tried to soften her approach and asked, “Where would you like to go?”
“Back to the apartment to shower and get some fresh clothing.”
“Can’t go there. It’s a potential crime scene. You’ve watched TV. We have to sweep for evidence.”
“I’ve got nothing more to say.”
Haber didn’t have enough to hold Charlie for questioning. He’d play the distraught fiancé as long as he could. In her gut, she knew that his story wouldn’t fly very long. She’d get her search warrant, and then she’d question the weasel.
“What’s your cell phone number?”
Charlie reluctantly gave it.
“When you check in a hotel, make sure it’s in Hewes County, and call the Hewes County Police Department with the name of the hotel and your room number. I’d like to see you at the station at one o’clock in the afternoon.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule.”
“Bullshit. You’ll be there at one, or I’ll issue a warrant for your arrest for obstruction. You have a legal obligation to cooperate with the investigation.”
Charlie didn’t respond, but he was clearly infuriated. He walked into the chapel. As he was walking down the hall, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle. On Friday there were twenty Viagra pills in it. Now there were only eleven left. He’d consumed nine during the sex marathon. He opened the bottle and took his last oxycodone with a drink from a water fountain.
Haber left the hospital at 2:00 a.m. She stopped at home to take a shower and have breakfast. She got to the station at six, no sleep. She couldn’t. She wanted to get a search warrant, and that required her to submit an affidavit to a friendly judge to get one. Based on what Charlie told her in a moment of weakness, she knew that he’d had a similar problem in Jefferson County, Kentucky.
By the time she drank three cups of coffee, it was seven o’clock Hewes County time, eight o’clock Louisville time. She reached the Jefferson County Criminal Court Clerk’s office and spoke to a deputy clerk. She asked her to run a criminal record on Dr. Charles Garcia. Haber copied verbatim what the young clerk told her. She finished her affidavit, deposited it with the clerk of a friendly judge, and went home to get two or three hours of sleep. There was no doubt in her mind that any of the judges in Hewes County would issue a search warrant for Robyn Eden’s apartment. At nine, Judge Tanner signed the search warrant, and the homicide investigation of Robyn Eden was in full swing.
After the confrontation, Charlie used his cell phone to call a taxi to get him the hell away from the hospital. That bastard Nichols had no right to talk to me like that. They had a right to be upset but not at me. How could they vilify me? I was trying to save her and the baby.
While he was waiting for his cab, he called his father again. Earlier, in the hospital, it was his father first and then Valerie Daniels. Those were the two calls he’d made while being watched by the detective in the hall.
“Father, the police are going to get a search warrant. They’ll find drugs and other incriminating items at the apartment.”
“What items?”
“Sex toys and tapes of Robyn and me having sex, videos of trios having sex. They’re pretty graphic.”
Señor Garcia was familiar with his son’s proclivity to film himself with women. Harrelson had already solved one such problem during his residency.
Charlie spoke up, “I think the camera was running when she overdosed. I don’t know, but I think it shows me performing CPR.”
“You’re telling me that her overdose and your participation are on video for the police and anyone else to see? That’s pretty stupid, son. Does the tape show her using drugs?”
“No, she did those in the bathroom off camera.”
“Did you prescribe the drugs to her?”
“My name isn’t on the bottle.”
“That’s not what I asked, Charles. Never mind. Don’t answer that question. I don’t want to know. I’ll be questioned about this conversation. I’m better off with plausible deniability.”
Charlie’s father was an international businessman, and not all of his deals were aboveboard. He often used bribes and other illegal methods to achieve his purposes. Señor Garcia was not naïve.
This wasn’t the first time Robyn had been rushed to a hospital emergency room because of her use of drugs with Charlie, but this time Robyn was dead. The last time a good lawyer and money were enough to get Charlie pretrial diversion. A dead girl would take much better lawyering and a lot more money. They’d figure it out. Señor Garcia would do whatever it took to protect his baby boy. This problem couldn’t just be fixed with a phone call and a payoff, though. The father tried to stay focused.
“Who pays the rent on the place?”
“I do.”
“Who signed the lease?”
“She did. I didn’t want the liability.”
Señor Garcia pondered his son’s predicament. The liability on a lease was the least of his problems, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise. “That should give you some rights, but I’m no lawyer. I’ll call Harrelson when we hang up. Go to a hotel. This call and its length will become an issue for the police. They’ll want to know what we said. We’ll need to get our stories straight as to what we discussed. It was about your loss of Robyn. You were inconsolable. Don’t make any phone calls. I’ll see you later today.”
“I’ve got to call the Hewes County police when I check in. Detective Haber insists that I stay in Hewes County and that I let the police know where I’m staying.”
“You’d better do as they ask. Let’s assume they’ll tap your hotel phone right away. After the call to the police, no more calls to anyone; don’t even use your cell phone. They may get a tap on it as well.”
Señor Garcia had dealt with the police in many jurisdictions. The laws of each country varied, but they rarely weighed heavily against the police. He had reason to be wary. He knew that in some of those countries the rights of the accused were not a concern. He also knew that the first day of any criminal investigation was critical to its outcome.
Charlie remembered he’d given Haber his cell phone number. Again his father interrupted his chain of thought. “I’m calling Harrelson right now. I’ll hire a private jet, and we’ll be in Nashville by nine. Can you pick us up at that private airport?”
“I don’t have a car. My keys are in the apartment, and they won’t let me back in it. Should I … ?”
“Don’t do anything. You just sit there. Anything you do could be interpreted as incriminating. I’m calling Amy Pierce. I’ve got her home number. She’ll pick us up at the airport, and we should be there before nine.”
Charlie told his father he’d check into the Hewes Manor that was on the courthouse square. The cab arrived, and Garcia said good-bye to his father.
When he got to his room, Charlie called the Hewes City police and spoke to the desk sergeant.
“I’ve checked in. I’ve had a real bad day. I’m staying at the Hewes Manor. I’m in for the night. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t have access to any of my clothing, and even my car keys are locked in that damn apartment. When can I get in?”
“You can call De
tective Haber later today. She’ll have a better idea when you’ll get access to the apartment. Good night, Doctor, sleep well.”
Charlie didn’t like the way that son of a bitch said that. He thought about whether to call Robyn’s mother but knew that Valerie had already done so. Mrs. Burton Eden didn’t care for Charlie, never did. She was part of the Old South, and Charlie’s foreign background was more than enough to cause her to dislike him. Now she’d hate him with every fiber of her being. Ultimately, Charlie chickened out. He’d make the call after meeting with his lawyers.
At ten fifteen, his father summoned Charlie to the lobby; he had no luggage, so he just walked out the door. His father gave him a big hug, which surprised Charlie. His father wasn’t usually an emotional person. They got in the backseat of a waiting car. Harrelson and Pierce were in the front seat, with Pierce driving.
They went straight to Pierce’s office. Pierce made Señor Garcia sit in reception while Harrelson and Pierce met with Charlie in the conference room. She insisted that only she and Harrelson meet with Charlie, something to do with attorney-client privilege and the fact that Señor Garcia could be subpoenaed. Pierce explained that because she and Harrelson were lawyers, they couldn’t be subpoenaed.
Before she met with Charlie, Pierce met with Señor Garcia, who paid her a $50,000 retainer. Pierce emphasized that her fee would fit the crime, and these charges would be serious. She made it clear she would quickly exhaust the retainer.
Charlie provided his lawyers with as much detail as he could. Several times the two lawyers engaged in sidebar conversations about the law, which Charlie didn’t understand. He did freeze when Pierce mentioned the word murder!
“Murder? What murder? She was a drug addict, and she died. That happens every day, doesn’t it?”
Pierce decided she’d answer Charlie’s question: “Drug addicts die every day, yes, but not with their doctor having sex with them on camera. Add to those unusual circumstances that the physician-boyfriend recently surrendered his Tennessee medical license and that he’s on probation for a drug overdose involving the same victim, and it’s not an everyday occurrence. Let’s not forget who her sister is.”
“Whose side are you on, Ms. Pierce?”
“I’m on your side. I’m your lawyer. But I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you, Charlie. You’ll be charged with second-degree murder, and depending on what’s on that tape and whether it’s admissible, you may be convicted.”
Harrelson took out his gold pocket watch and chain and nervously began twirling the watch. This kid needed to wake the hell up. Nobody told Dr. Charles Juan Batista Garcia the straight truth. It had always been sugarcoated. That was a big part of the problem.
“Well, Charlie hasn’t even been charged yet.”
“David, stop kidding yourself. We owe it to Dr. Garcia to shoot straight with him. The death of Robyn Eden is a serious problem that’s not going away.”
Harrelson wanted to say something encouraging. “Don’t worry, kid. Your father and I still have a few tricks up our sleeves. One thing I can assure you of, this won’t be a fair fight. Your dad and I will not pull any punches. This may get rough, but you’ll survive. I promise …”
Pierce broke in and said, “I suggest that you call either the sister or the mother and offer your condolences. If you don’t call this morning, it’s a sign of guilt. I’ll script what you should say, and we’ll tape the conversation. If the conversation goes poorly, we can always erase the tape.”
Pierce explained to Charlie and Harrelson that in Tennessee both parties to a telephone conversation do not need to know that the conversation is being recorded. Harrelson commented that New York required consent by both parties. Pierce resumed, “Did either the sister or the mother know about Robyn’s drug problem?”
“Her sister, Valerie, certainly did,” Charlie replied. “She and I spoke a few days ago, and we agreed that Robyn needed to go into rehab. Convincing Robyn to go into rehab was my primary purpose for visiting her. I doubt her mother knew.”
Pierce ignored Charlie’s attempt to rationalize his conduct. She thought, This guy is unbelievable. Pierce spent the next fifteen minutes scripting the phone call to the sister. She went over the script with Charlie and explained that whatever happened he was not to get angry or defensive. She explained that juries didn’t like angry people. He needed to be the grieving boyfriend.
Charlie dialed Valerie Daniels’s cell phone number, and he started crying before the conversation began.
“Senator Daniels here.”
Between sobs, Charlie asked, “How are you doing, Valerie?”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve calling me, Charlie. She was already dead when you called me last night. You’re a real shit.”
“That’s unfair. I loved her, and I hoped to get her help. You know that I was trying to get her into rehab. I was trying to save my baby.”
Both started crying.
So far, Charlie was giving an Academy Award performance. This tape would play well with a jury. He moved in for the kill. “We both know she was struggling.”
“As a doctor, couldn’t you tell this weekend that she was high?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t be with her twenty-four hours a day. In retrospect, she must have taken the drugs when she went to the bathroom.”
“You should have stopped her, Charlie. You’re a doctor. You were in the best position to save her, and you didn’t. You also claimed you loved her.”
It was weird talking about Robyn in the past tense.
“If all it took were love, both of us would have been able to stop her. She was absolutely reckless. Despite her pregnancy, she continued to use. I was nine hundred miles away, but you had easy access. You lost a sister, and I lost someone I loved and my child.”
Charlie hesitated and then burst out, “My child’s dead, and Robyn killed him.”
Pierce felt like Steven Spielberg, and Charlie was bringing home the Oscar. The strained conversation ended fairly abruptly. Charlie promised to call, which was a lie. He hoped he never spoke to Valerie again.
After the difficult conversation, both Pierce and Harrelson complimented Charlie on how well he’d handled the call. The tape would be helpful, although it was far from exonerating. It simply placed Charlie in a sympathetic light. However, once the police and eventually the jury saw the sex video, Charlie’s credibility would be severely damaged, probably irreparably.
CHAPTER FORTY
YOU’RE UNDER ARREST
Thursday, July 13, 2000
On July 13th, Charlie got the call he’d been dreading. It was from Pierce. He needed to surrender himself to the Hewes City police because he was under arrest.
His father and Harrelson, who had remained in Nashville, accompanied him to the police department. Pierce met them at the station house and expedited the booking. When Charlie was finally taken into custody, Harrelson thought he looked scared, and he hoped that he truly was. This was no joking matter.
Pierce instructed him, “Don’t say anything. Not one word.”
Two officers led Charlie and Pierce into an interrogation room, where they were left alone for what seemed like an hour but was only twenty minutes.
Detective Haber walked in and smiled. “Hello, Dr. Garcia, fancy meeting you here.”
Charlie didn’t respond. He had to use all of his restraint not to throw a punch.
“I feel like I know you pretty well. I’ve watched all of your videotapes. You’re one sick person. You actually taught me a thing or two. I can’t believe that poor young girl allowed you to sodomize her the way you did. It must have hurt like hell. I can’t imagine she got any satisfaction at all.” Haber was trying to goad him into a reaction.
Charlie wanted to tell Detective Haber what she could do with one of his toys, but he kept his cool. Pierce warned him that they would try to provoke him into talking, but he was not to take the bait.
“We found all the drugs and the syringe in the nightstand, and we know y
ou were the source. You’re looking at murder in the second degree. That’s twenty-five years to life. This is Middle Tennessee. We’re conservative here, not like your hometown of New York. A Tennessee jury isn’t going to like what you did to that poor girl. This is a missionary position town. A guy might get a blow job on his birthday, but that’s about it. There won’t be one woman on the jury who’s taken it up the ass and certainly none with a ten-inch dildo. You’re a dead man.”
Pierce had been patient. She couldn’t see a camera, but if Haber were recording this, she would play badly before a jury. Pierce quickly concluded that Haber wasn’t recording. She was simply trying to provoke her client. She figured it was a good test for Charlie; a lot worse was yet to come.
Pierce asked, “Are you finished with this interview? Do you have any questions? I haven’t heard one. My client is heartbroken, and a police station is nowhere to grieve the death of a loved one.”
Haber glared at Pierce. These two powerful, determined women were about to butt heads.
“We’ve got a search warrant for your New York apartment. I suspect the New York Police Department will find more tapes and more sex toys, won’t they?”
Charlie tried not to change his expression, but it was hard because he knew she was right.
“I also bet they’ll find a bunch of drugs. I bet there will be several drugs that are of the same type, dosage, and lot as were found in Robyn Eden’s apartment. If they have the same manufacturer and batch number, then it’s life, my friend.”
Pierce looked hard at Haber. “I still haven’t heard a question.”
Charlie was sweating at this point. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs for the detective to go to hell, but he didn’t. Harrelson would be proud of him. He needed to get to either Harrelson or his father to tell them about the New York search warrant. His father had to get to the apartment before the police. It never dawned on him that a police department in Tennessee could initiate a search of his apartment in New York City.