That's right! DeVore exclaimed.
A Portland vice cop named Bobby Vasquez got an anonymous tip that Cardoni was storing cocaine in a home in the mountains in Milton County. He couldn't corroborate the tip, so he broke into the house. Guess what he found?
DeVore was sitting up, and Amanda could see that he was remembering more and more about the Cardoni case.
What are you getting at? the homicide detective asked.
There was a graveyard in the woods near the house with nine victims. Most of them had been tortured. There was an operating room in the basement and a bloody scalpel with Cardoni's prints on it. Cardoni's prints were also found in the kitchen on a coffee mug. A videotape that showed one of the victims being tortured was found in Cardoni's house. Is this starting to sound familiar?
Are you suggesting that Cardoni killed the people at the farmhouse? Greene asked.
Before she could answer, DeVore said, He couldn' t. Cardoni is dead.
We don't know that, Amanda said to the detective before turning back to Greene. Not for sure.
You guys are going too fast for me, Greene said.
My father represented Dr. Cardoni. There was a motion to suppress. Vasquez lied under oath to cover up his illegal entry, and Dad proved that he perjured himself. The state lost all its evidence, and Cardoni was released from jail. A week or so later Cardoni called me at home, at night, and said that he had to meet me at the house in Milton County.
I remember now, DeVore said. You found it!
Found what? Greene asked.
Cardoni's right hand. It was on the operating table. Someone cut it off.
Who? Greene asked.
No one knows.
So it's an unsolved murder?
Maybe, maybe not, Amanda said. Cardoni's body was never found. If he cut off his own hand, it wouldn't be a murder, would it?
Chapter 38
By the time Amanda staggered home to her loft it was almost five in the morning. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her head felt as though it were stuffed with cotton. Amanda would have given anything to dive under the covers, but there was too much to do, so she tried to fool her body into believing that she had slept by following her morning routine. She doubted that she would have been able to sleep, anyway. Her head was spinning with ideas for Justine's defense, and the possibility that Vincent Cardoni was back made her skin crawl.
After twenty minutes of calisthenics and an ice-cold shower, Amanda donned one of her dark blue court suits and walked two blocks to a hole-in-the-wall cafT that had been in the neighborhood since the fifties. It was still pitch black outside, and the raw, biting wind helped her stay awake. So did the flapjack breakfast she ate hunkered down in one of the cafT's red vinyl booths. As a swimmer, Amanda always stoked up on carbohydrates the night before a big race. Swimming distance and trying cases were a lot alike. You stored up as much energy as you could, then you dove in and kept driving.
During breakfast, Amanda could not stop thinking about Cardoni. What if he was alive? What if he was lurking in the dark, killing again? The idea terrified her, but it also thrilled her. If Cardoni was back from the dead if Justine was an innocent woman, falsely accused this case would make her reputation and bring her out of her father's shadow.
The moment that thought intruded Amanda felt guilty. She focused on the torment Cardoni's victims had to have experienced and forced herself to remember what she' d seen on the Mary Sandowski tape, but she could not suppress the excitement she felt when a secret part of her whispered about a future in which she would be as acclaimed and sought after as Frank Jaffe.
Amanda fought down these thoughts. She told herself that she was ambitious but that she also cared more for her clients than she did for success. Saving Justine Castle was her first, and only, priority. Fame might follow, but she knew that it was wrong to take a case for the notoriety it would bring. Still, the idea of her name in headlines was tough to ignore.
Then a disturbing thought occurred to her. Her father would be back from his vacation in a week. What would she do if he tried to grab her case? Could she stop Frank from moving her aside? She was only an associate at Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi. Frank was a senior partner. If Frank wanted the Castle case, Amanda could not stop him from taking over. Maybe Justine would insist on Frank's being lead counsel. When Justine phoned from the Justice Center she had asked for Frank Jaffe, not his daughter.
Amanda chastised herself for thinking this way. She was putting her needs ahead of her client' s. If Justine wanted her father to represent her, she would step aside. Right now she shouldn't even be thinking about anything but getting Justine out of jail.
By six-forty-five Amanda was in the basement of the Stockman Building looking through the firm's storage area. The files in State v. Cardoni filled three dusty, cobweb-covered cartons. There would have been many more boxes if the case had gone to trial. Loading the boxes on a dolly while keeping her suit clean was not easy, but Amanda managed. As soon as she rolled the boxes into her office she stripped off her suit jacket and started piling their contents on her desk.
Frank's case files were always well organized. One three-ring binder was for memos discussing legal issues that might be raised in the case. After each memo there were photocopies of the cases and statutes that supported each argument. Another binder contained police reports arranged chronologically. A third binder held reports generated by the defense investigation. A fourth binder was set up alphabetically for potential witnesses and contained copies of every report generated by either side that made any reference to the witness. A typed sheet with potential direct or cross-examination questions and areas of investigation that needed to be pursued preceded the reports. A final binder contained press clippings about the case.
Amanda opened the binder that had been compiled for the motion to suppress. It contained an inventory of the items found at the Milton County house. There was also an envelope with photographs of the crime scene. Amanda spread the photos across her desk and referred to the report. It took her only a moment to find the coffee mug and scalpel in the inventory and the photographs that showed where each item had been found in the house. Mike Greene had promised to give Amanda a set of crime scene photographs this afternoon at Justine's arraignment. She was willing to bet that those photographs would be similar to the photos spread across her desk.
At eight o' clock Amanda sent her secretary to the district attorney's office to get the keys to Justine Castle's house so that she could select clothes for Justine's court appearance. At eleven-thirty she wolfed down a sandwich and drank more coffee at her desk. By the time Amanda headed to the Justice Center at one o' clock for Justine's arraignment, she was exhausted but up to speed on Vincent Cardoni's case.
Amanda made it through the glass-vaulted lobby of the Justice Center and up the curving marble stairs to the third floor before someone from KGW-TV called her by name; instantly she became the focus of a mob of shouting reporters. An attractive brunette from KPDX asked Amanda if she was a stand-in for her famous father, and a short, disheveled reporter from the Oregonian wanted to know if there was a connection between the murders at the farmhouse and the infamous Cardoni case. Amanda ducked to avoid the mikes and the glare of the TV lights while repeating No comment to each question. When the doors of the arraignment court closed behind her, sealing her off from the press, she sighed with relief.
The courtroom was packed. Attorneys sat with their clients. Anxious wives bounced children on their knee, trying desperately to keep them quiet so the guard would not expel them before their husbands were brought out of the holding area. Mothers and fathers held hands, watching nervously for a child who had gone wrong. Girlfriends and gang members shifted in their seats while they enjoyed the excitement of seeing someone they knew in court, just like on TV.