They spent the next day in the office, brainstorming with Geismar and putting together a plan. With the complaint on file, the clock was ticking. If things stayed on schedule, Lacy and Hugo would soon drive to the small town of Sterling and serve a copy of it upon the Honorable Claudia McDover. By then it would be imperative to know as much as possible.
First, though, they needed to visit death row. Hugo had been there once, on a field trip in law school. Lacy had heard about Starke her entire career, but had never found the excuse to see it. They left early enough to beat the morning rush around Tallahassee, and by the time the traffic thinned on I-10 Hugo was nodding off. The prison was two and a half hours away. Lacy had not been forced to walk the floors with a crying baby all night, but she had not slept much either. She and Hugo, as well as Geismar, felt as though they were probably sticking their noses into a mess that someone else should clean up. If Greg Myers could be believed, serious criminal activity had been rampant in Brunswick County for a long time. Investigators with far more resources and experience should get the nod on this one. They were lawyers, after all, not cops. They didn’t want to carry guns. They were trained to go after corrupt judges, not organized crime syndicates.
These thoughts had kept her from sleeping most of the night. When she caught herself yawning, she whipped into a fast-food drive-thru and ordered coffee. “Wake up,” she scolded her partner. “We have an hour and a half to go and I can’t stay awake either.”
“Sorry,” Hugo said, rubbing his eyes.
They slugged coffee, and as she drove Hugo summarized one of Sadelle’s memos. “According to our colleague, from 2000 through 2009, there were ten lawsuits in Brunswick County involving a company called Nylan Title, a Bahamian outfit whose registered agent is a lawyer over in Biloxi. In each case, the opposing party tried to compel the identities of the real owners of Nylan Title, and each time the judge, our friend Claudia McDover, said no. Off-limits. A company domiciled in the Bahamas is governed by its laws, and they have a way of protecting their companies. It’s all a shell game but it’s legal. Anyway, Nylan Title must have some great lawyers because it is undefeated, at least in Judge McDover’s courtroom. Ten to zero.”
“What kinds of cases?” Lacy asked.
“Zoning, breach of contract, diminution of property value, even an aborted class action by a bunch of condo owners claiming defective workmanship. The county sued Nylan in a dispute over property valuations and taxes.”
“Who shows up on behalf of Nylan?”
“The same lawyer out of Biloxi. He’s the corporate mouthpiece and seems to know what’s going on. If Nylan is indeed Vonn Dubose, then he’s well hidden, just like Myers says. Layers of lawyers, as he put it. Nice phrase.”
“Sounds charming.”
Hugo took a sip of coffee and put down the memo. He said, “Look, Lacy, I don’t trust Greg Myers.”
“He doesn’t really inspire trust.”
“But you have to admit that, so far, everything he has said has checked out. If he’s using us, what’s his endgame?”
“I was asking the same question at three thirty this morning. We have to catch Judge McDover with a pile of cash. Period. If it’s recovered, the mole gets his or her share as a reward, and Myers takes a cut. If Vonn Dubose and his boys get busted, fine, but how does that help Myers?”
“It doesn’t, unless of course McDover goes up in flames with Dubose.”
“He is using us, Hugo. He’s filed a complaint alleging corrupt judicial practices, or outright thievery. It’s our job to investigate. Anyone who files a complaint against a judge is using us to find the truth. That’s the nature of our jobs.”
“Sure it is, but something is not right with this guy.”
“I have the same gut feeling. I like Geismar’s strategy. We’ll poke around a bit, nibble at the edges, develop some history, try to find out who owns those four condos, do our job but do it cautiously, and if we find real evidence of wrongdoing we’ll go to the FBI. Myers can’t stop us from doing that.”
“Agreed, but he can disappear and never talk to us again. If he has proof of corruption at the casino, we’ll never get it if the FBI comes storming in.”