Phoenix Read online

  Sam swallowed and said, “Okay, so what now?”

  Jim was reading the list and said, “Well, we’re going back to Cohen’s firm. John wants us to talk to three people there.”

  “Let me guess. Sandy Hyde, Ken Miller…”

  She paused, and Jim said, “What? Did the clairvoyance fairy leave you high and dry?” She kept eating as Jim said, “A guy named Thomas Koswick.”

  Sam put down the last piece of her lunch and said, “Koswick? The big time L.A divorce lawyer?” Jim nodded. “But he doesn’t work for Cohen’s firm. He’s with Koswick, Harold, Parody, and Swan.”

  Jim looked confused and asked, “How the hell would you know that?”

  Sam laughed. “I met Koswick a few years ago when I was working as an off duty security officer at a downtown event.”

  Jim laughed, crumpling the wrapper in his hands and said, “Let me guess. You fucked him?”

  Sam nodded and said, “Hey, he’s a good looking guy, and I was between lovers.”

  Jim just shook his head and said, “Well, according to this spreadsheet that Chris sent me, this Koswick guy’s representing the soon-to-be ex-wife of one of Cohen’s firm’s largest clients. A guy named Saul Winston.”

  Sam threw the trash away then took a drink from her soda cup and said, “Saul Winston? The heir to the Winston Financial Trust?”

  Jim was getting into the cruiser and said, “So, you know all of these people?”

  Sam sat in the passenger seat and said, “No. I met Sandy Hyde twice. She’s a bitch on heels and on a real power trip as a female attorney. I’ve only heard of Ken Miller, but I don’t recall hearing anything negative about him.”

  Jim put the car in drive and said, “Well, I know who this Koswick guy is because he handled the divorce for Barbara so many years ago.”

  Sam laughed and said, “Oh, this is going to be fun for you.” Jim nodded and smiled as they headed for Cohen’s office to talk to the partners.

  Janet Winston was huddled in a corner of the bedroom she was locked in when the door suddenly swung open, and a muscular man in a green ski mask rushed into the room. He didn’t say a word, just grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the floor. She tried to scream but the breath had been knocked out of her, and the man had his knee in her back as he pulled her head back with one hand and used the other to put duct tape over her mouth. By the time she had gotten her breath, her assailant had thrown her over his shoulder and was carrying her out of the room. She was kicking her feet and screaming through the tape as she was carried down a long, dark hall then into sudden sunlight and then thrown in the back of a vehicle, and her hands and feet were zip tied. The doors slammed shut, and she felt the van start moving down the road without a word from her kidnapper.

  Police, FBI, and Sheriff’s detectives had been at Howard Cohen’s office all day. It was ten to three when Jim and Sam walked up to the front entrance and asked the receptionist to speak to Ken Miller and Sandy Hyde. The receptionist dialed Miller first. Sam and Jim stood for a few seconds, and a well-dressed young man walked out through the commotion and asked Jim and Sam to follow him.

  Ken Miller was sitting in one of the large conference rooms when Sandy Hyde walked in. She was visibly nervous, and Ken looked at her and asked, “Sandy, are you okay?”

  She paced the room for a few seconds and then turned and asked, “What the hell does the Sheriff want with me … you … either of us?”

  Ken pulled a legal pad out from a small drawer in the conference table and said, “Our founding partner and friend committed suicide, Sandy. I would guess that they want to talk to us about his behavior to see if we can shed any light onto why Howard did what he did this morning.” She sat down and pulled a legal pad out and jotted a few things down. He looked at her and said, “Sandy, you are the epitome of composure in all situations. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  She wrote a few things down and said, “Oh, nothing, Ken. The founding partner of our firm killed himself this morning. We don’t know the circumstances behind his decision, and we’re sitting in the dark here.”

  Ken said, “Jesus, Sandy. It’s not like we killed Howard. Relax and answer any questions that you feel you can. We’re not on trial here.”

  He had just finished speaking when Jim and Sam walked in. Jim was dressed in his full dress uniform, and the stars and badges were intimidating both of them. Jim and Sam sat at the invitation of Ken Miller, and Sandy asked, “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

  Jim pulled out his tablet as did Sam, and Sandy asked, “Is it your intent to record this interview?”

  Jim smiled and looked at her and said, “Yes, Ms. Hyde. It is in the normal course of police work and to make sure we have an accurate record of the conversation. This is an informal meeting, folks. We just want to talk a little bit about Howard Cohen and his recent behavior.”

  Ken laughed and said, “Recent behavior? Sheriff, Howard committed suicide, and we have no information on what happened, how it happened, or even who found his body.”

  Sam said, “At this time, that information is sealed until we can notify the next of kin.”

  Sandy threw her hands in the air and said, “Oh, this is a crock of shit. Howard had no next of kin. He was a lifelong bisexual bachelor who led a rather reclusive life.”

  Sam looked at Sandy and asked, “Were you and Mr. Cohen intimate, Ms. Hyde?”

  Sandy put her hands on the table and said, “If you want to know if we had a physical relationship, yes. That is not a secret.”

  “Was that relationship still going on up to Mr. Cohen’s death?”

  Sandy shook her head and told Jim no. “Howard and I were just good friends. The romantic relationship ended years ago. We were friends with benefits. If we were horny and weren’t involved with anyone, then we slept together.”

  Ken looked at Jim and asked, “What does Howard’s love life have to do with his death?”

  “That’s a great question, Mr. Miller,” Jim said, “and the answer is I have no idea. We are taking in information, so that we can analyze it and then try to piece together Mr. Cohen’s last hours.”

  Sam was swiping her hand across her tablet, and Sandy asked, “Why is the Sheriff elect here? She has no official duties at this time.”

  “I’m an investigator, Ms. Hyde, and I will be the Sheriff of Los Angeles County in a few weeks. A high level attorney in Los Angeles has committed suicide. It’s relevant to my new position.”

  Jim asked, “Can you each tell us the last time either of you saw Mr. Cohen alive?” Sandy told them that she had seen Howard earlier in the morning to discuss a case. “Did there seem to be anything off about Mr. Cohen when you talked to him this morning?” Sandy shook her head and said that he was his usual self.

  Sam asked Ken, “Mr. Miller, how long have you known Mr. Cohen?”

  Ken looked up and then down and said, “Oh, hell, since the beginning. Howard and I went to law school together then lost touch for a short period before we started this firm. The rest is history.”

  Sandy stood up and said, “Look, I don’t know where this line of questioning is going. Did I notice any behavior from Howard Cohen that would lead me to believe he would do something like this to himself? No. I believe that Ken has answered the same way, so unless you have some question that is relevant to Mr. Cohen outside of his behavior and suicide, I have to be in court.”

  Sam looked at her and asked, “There is a question, Ms. Hyde, and then you will be free to leave.”

  “Ask.”

  Sam took a breath and then turned her tablet to Sandy and pointed to a picture of the California Bar Association website on her tablet and asked, “What type of relationship do you and or your firm have with Mr. Thomas Koswick?”

  Jim saw the look on both Sandy and Ken’s faces immediately. They were both caught flat footed, and he asked, “Can
either one of you answer the question, please?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Well, he’s sure as hell not

  heartbroken. I can tell you that.”

  The screeching tires of a black van caught the attention of a parking valet at the Bonaventure Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. The van had taken a turn to the upper parking structure a little too fast, and it was obvious. The valet watched only for a fraction of a second before a couple walked out to get their car.

  The van pulled up to the top of the structure. There were four cars parked off near the elevator, and the rest of the level was empty. The driver got out of the van and walked back and opened the doors where Janet Winston lie dressed from the night before with her hands and feet restrained.

  John had finished his shower, and his blood-soaked suit was on the bathroom floor when Sara walked in and asked what was going on. He walked nude out of the bathroom, opened a closet door, and said, “I was supposed to have a news conference at four p.m. with regard to Howard’s death, and I had to push it off until five. Philly and Cosmo are on their way over.”

  Sara interrupted him and said, “They’re here, John, that’s why I want to know what the hell is going on.”

  He pulled a black suit out of his closet and a new pair of shoes and said, “Howard Cohen left me a list of corrupt attorneys and judges in LA and around the state.”

  Sara stared at his muscular back and said, “Jesus! You’re gorgeous. I don’t get to see you naked in the daylight much these days.”

  John smiled slightly and said, “There is major trouble brewing, Sara, and there is no place that is safe.”

  She sat on the end of the bed and asked, “Please don’t tell me that you are going to make me leave the country again.”

  He shook his head and pulled out a pair of underwear, a T-shirt, and socks and said, “No … nothing like that this time. It’s not safe for me, Jim, Sam, and some others.”

  Sara looked alarmed and said softly, “I don’t understand.”

  “We have a serious and even deadly corruption rising to the highest levels of the judiciary.”

  “Then take the case to the U.S. Attorney.”

  “No can do. There’s no one I can trust.”

  Sara looked on for a few seconds and then asked, “Then what are you going to do?” John buttoned his white dress shirt in silence as she looked on. He buckled the belt on his pants and then took a red tie off a jacket rack in his dressing room. Sara walked over and took the tie and put it back and grabbed a blue one and handed it to him.

  He finished dressing and said, “I’m going to put the men to work on this case. Jim and Sam are interviewing Howard’s partners, and then I’m going to work with the Eagle to start picking people.”

  Sara fidgeted with John’s tie. “These are really, really bad people?” John nodded. “Do they know that Howard killed himself in front of you?” John shook his head. Sara pulled him close and said, “Promise me that you will come home to me.”

  He pulled Sara an arm’s distance from him and said, “You know that’s a promise I cannot make. I will do everything in my power to protect all of us.” Sara nodded sadly and followed him out to meet Philly and Cosmo.

  Violet Harper handed the valet her parking ticket and was waiting for him to get her car. Two other people followed, and she stood off to the side as another valet took the other ticket. She looked over at the two men waiting for their car and rolled her eyes as one of the men approached.

  “That was some talk you gave in there, Counselor.” Violet made eye contact only to see that the male addressing her was looking down at her ample cleavage and not her eyes. Violet was dressed in a low cut yet classy blue dress with white trim. The outfit, while professional, was also very, very seductive, which is how she lived.

  She allowed her colleague to stare for a few seconds and then said, “Mr. Holston, my eyes are up here, sir.”

  Carry Holston looked up quickly and said, “Um … I’m sorry. That was a very good talk you gave on offense, defense, and self-defense in litigation.”

  She smiled and said, “Thank you, Counselor. I worked hard on the presentation.”

  Holston stepped back a few steps, and his fellow attorney asked, “So, Violet, you’ve been at Koswick, Harold, Parody, and Swan for what … twenty years? Is that correct?” She nodded her head as her car was being pulled up to the valet station. Carry asked, “Yet, in all of your years, you have never made partner. Don’t you feel your talents are being wasted?” She pulled two dollars from her hand bag and handed it to the valet.

  “Carry, I was practicing law when you were still in middle school. I don’t want a partnership. That’s not what I’m about. I’m an officer of the court. I am entrusted with the well-being of my clients to see to it that they get fair treatment under the law.”

  Carry laughed and said, “Well, you’re right on all fronts except one.”

  “And which one is that?”

  Carry laughed as did the other man and said, “The only way to get balanced justice in this town is with a big ass checkbook, Vi. You better have a big ass checkbook.” She shot him a look and was stepping into her red BMW when a woman’s scream caught their attention. There was a moment of hesitation by all parties and then another scream, and Violet jumped out of the car and headed in its direction.

  John was standing in the living room as Philly and Cosmo read over several pieces of paper that he had handed to them. It was quiet, and Sara walked in with Karen behind her with a pot of coffee and a tray of cups. John looked at his watch; it was four thirty p.m. He said, “Guys, I have to get to my office. I have a news conference in a half hour on the Cohen suicide.”

  Philly looked up from the paper and said, “John, man, I did a lot of work for Howard Cohen and his partners as well as clients. I can’t believe what I’m seeing here.” John nodded and Philly continued, “One of Howard’s oldest clients, at least oldest clients in terms of old money, is Saul Winston. Howard was handling the divorce, and I was working for Saul directly, trying to tie some shit up on his wife.”

  John took a sip from a bottle of water in his hand and asked, “Okay … and how does that play into this investigation?”

  Philly looked over at Sara and Karen standing quietly and said, “Saul called me this morning and told me that his soon-to-be ex-wife Janet had disappeared, and he wanted me to find her.”

  John handed the bottle to Sara, never looking in her direction, and said, “Why the hell are you just now telling me this?”

  “I didn’t put two and two together. Shit, man. I do the private dick work to keep from getting bored. You know that Cosmo loves the cars, man. I love the action and doing PI work gives me a taste of that when you don’t have us and the rest of the guys working a mission with you.”

  John looked at his watch and said, “I need you to brief me on everyone and everything you’ve been working in the past year, but that will have to wait. Do you think that Winston is dirty?”

  “Well, he’s sure as hell not heartbroken. I can tell you that.” John looked at Sara and asked her to prepare operating room one. She nodded, and she and Karen left the coffee and walked out of the room.

  John looked atPhilly and said, “Okay … I have a news conference. I want you to go to Winston’s home and give him a B.S. update on his wife until I can get over to interview the guy.”

  Philly put the cup he was holding down and said, “And if he’s running?”

  “Take him down, call me, and let me know. Then bring him back here. Sara and Karen will know what to do.” Philly nodded and told Lance to keep his head down. They would work the list together when he returned. Philly followed John out the front door as the two men went their separate ways.

  The federal building on Wilshire was crawling with reporters. Word of Cohen’s death had rocked the city, and the fact that the FBI and the Sheri
ff were giving a joint news conference had every news agency buzzing. John pulled up and saw Jim, Sam, and Chris standing near a small bank of microphones. He walked up to the group of reporters and stepped up to speak.

  “This will be a simple statement, ladies and gentlemen. We will not be taking questions. This morning at approximately eleven a.m. Pacific Standard Time, Mr. Howard Cohen was discovered after suffering a self-inflicted wound to the neck. Mr. Cohen was rushed to Northridge Hospital where he was pronounced dead upon arrival. The motive for Mr. Cohen’s action remains a mystery. The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department along with the Los Angeles Police Department is working together with the FBI to work this case as quickly as possible.”

  One of the reporters cried out, interrupting John, “Is it true that Mr. Cohen was connected to the recent Phoenix murders?”

  John looked at Jim and Chris standing next to him, and Jim shrugged his shoulders. John asked, “What are the ‘Phoenix’ murders?”

  The reporter rattled off the names of Benton Harris and Cynthia Caldwell and asked, “Is it true that Mr. Cohen has confessed to the murders and that is why he committed suicide this morning?”

  Jim stepped up to the microphones and asked, “Where the hell do you people come up with this shit? ‘Phoenix’ murders? You have given two goddamn murders a fuckin’ name? For Christ sake, people, have you learned nothing in the past several years? We haven’t given the murderer or the murders a name yet, but you have.”

  John pushed Jim back a little harder than he thought. Sam moved between Jim and John, and Chris put his hand on Jim’s shoulder as John continued, “There is no name for these killings. There has been no confession, and we have made no connection between Mr. Cohen and the murders that you have asked about. This matter is under investigation, and as soon as we have more facts, they will be released to the public.” John turned to walk away as news cameras with their bright lights and individual reporters started to huddle in his direction.