The bullpen bustled with the usual sounds in a large city’s detective bureau: the soft clicking of computer keys, phones ringing, quiet conversations among lawmen, and at least one animated discussion with an expletive here and there.
The telephone on Detective Sergeant Haralson’s desk rang. He answered it and, after a brief exchange, hung up. “Matheson,” he called out, “Captain Melrose wants to see us in his office.”
The announcement brought most of the surrounding commotion to a halt. Subdued “uh-ohs” raced through the minds of those present. Hal Melrose, the bureau chief, was a tough man to please and harsh when someone made a misstep. “Hard-nosed Hal” was how his subordinates referred to him when they couldn’t be overheard. He held fast to one rule left over from his time in the Marine Corps: praise in public, reprimand in private. Hence, this call to see Kevin Matheson didn’t bode well for the newest addition to the team of detectives.
Minutes later, the two men entered the captain’s office. The senior man merely glanced up from his desk. Haralson closed the door. His visitors took seats opposite him. Hal pushed his chair back slightly. Crossing one knee over the other and straightening the crease on his trousers, Melrose quietly asked, “How are you getting along on the diamond theft from Freeman Jewelers, Kevin?”
“I’m making headway, sir.”
“Sergeant Haralson tells me you’re applying for a search warrant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I understand you want to go through the office of Al Johnson.”
Matheson glanced askance at his immediate supervisor before returning his gaze to Melrose. “That’s correct.” He was prepared for the heat that was coming his way.
“This is the same Al Johnson who’s a pretty big fish in the world of our local criminal defense bar?” Kevin nodded, though he was aware the man knew the answer. “That is a high-profile target.” As the junior investigator started to speak, his superior leaned forward and cut him off. “I sincerely hope you have evidence to back it up. Because of Johnson’s constantly challenging our police work in court, we don’t want this to be seen as some sort of vendetta.”
Matheson waited a few seconds to make certain the captain had said everything he felt the need to. “It has nothing to do with retribution. My application is based on my investigation so far and on my observations. It’s … it’s only—”
“Wait!” Melrose exclaimed, more forcefully than he intended. Softening his tone, he continued. “At present, you think you have enough probable cause to get a warrant for Johnson’s office?”
“Yes sir. I do.”
“How so?”
“Well, sir, I tracked down a guy we’re sure was in on the theft. We found his fingerprints in the jewelry store’s vault, where they should never have been. He’s a petty burglar named Carey Constable. When we arrested him, the lawyer’s business card was among his effects. He was–”
“That proves nothing, detective. We both know that the card of a highly successful defense attorney is likely to be found being carried by many criminal types. It’s one reason he’s in our courtrooms giving our people hell all the time.”
“Of course, that’s true, but there’s a difference here.”
“I’m listening.”
“After we nabbed Constable, we pressed him hard during our interrogation. We couldn’t get anything out of him. On a hunch, I checked his bank records. A week before the jewel heist, the thug deposited five thousand two hundred dollars into his account.” When Melrose shrugged dismissively, Matheson went on. “Again, on instinct, I looked at the counselor’s bank statement. The day before Constable’s deposit, Johnson withdrew fifty-five hundred dollars.”
“Do you draw a connection between the two instances?” Matheson nodded. “I mean, they’re close, but different amounts.”
“I believe the attorney bankrolled the operation. Through his dubious connections, the mouthpiece learned that Freeman Jewelry had received a large shipment of loose diamonds. He paid Carey the cash to relieve the merchant of his stock. My guess is Constable held a little money back from his deposit to pay for incidentals. Perhaps he used the cash to wine and dine his girlfriend. The story is she enjoys living the high life, and he’s having trouble keeping up with her lifestyle.”
“But, in my estimation, you must have more than that financial coincidence.”
“Please hear me out, Captain.” Melrose made a vague hand gesture, inviting him to proceed. “After I compared bank statements, I paid Johnson a visit. I–”
“That was a risky move!” Hal scoffed.
“I wanted to gauge Johnson’s reaction to the sudden appearance of the law. To deflect any suspicion on his part, I used the upcoming trial of one of his clients on an aggravated assault charge as an excuse for my presence in his office.”
“And?”
“Nothing. He’s such an arrogant jerk. He was his typical smarmy self.” Kevin shook his head, as if avoiding an unwanted thought. “Frankly, between his ponytail and tattoos, he tries too hard to relate to the criminal element he represents. Even when I was in uniform on the street, I believed he was, in reality, one of them. Anyway, I noticed something very unusual while I was there.”
“Go on,” the bureau chief urged impatiently, while Haralson sat by quietly.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever been to his firm, but the lawyer surrounds himself with the trappings of a higher class of society that he’ll never truly be a part of. Paintings, sculptures, and so on. One of those accoutrements is a large aquarium containing a number of fish. Out of a long-standing habit, I glanced at the tank’s occupants. I noticed a few of the fish were swimming with jerky, darting movements. Some appeared lethargic and were hanging out near the bottom of the tank. Several others were kind of ‘gasping’ at the surface of the water, rapidly flapping their gills, like they were suffocating.”
“I don’t get the significance of a fishbowl as it relates to a jewel heist.”
“Let me bring you full circle. The thing struck me as odd. So last night I called my sister. Teresa’s an ichthyologist on the west coast. She–”
“A what?” Melrose’s words were laced with the edginess of frustration.
“Ichthyologist. A person employed in the branch of zoology that deals with marine life.” Shifting in his seat, Matheson resumed. “I explained to her what I’d seen in the tank. She told me they had observed the same type of behavior where industrial waste had been dumped into rivers. Teresa said there were several reasons for it, but the most likely cause that came to her mind in a fish tank was exposure to ammonia. That led me to check with the people at Freeman’s this morning.
“The manager explained that they usually use an ultrasonic cleaner with a gentle cleaning solution to wash jewelry. But old man Freeman, who still keeps his hand in the business, takes charge of the loose diamonds that come into their possession. He’s sort of old-school and insists on utilizing ammonia to clean them. When I asked, the manager said it was entirely possible that the stones could have had residue on them.”
Melrose’s eyebrows arched when he heard this. Matheson continued, “As I said, I think Johnson financed the job, likely using something he has on Constable to force him into committing the theft. This type of gambit was above Carey’s normal forays into criminal activity. Consequently, the burglar stole and delivered the gems to the man who fancies himself a legal eagle. I’m certain he, in turn, intended to sell them to a buyer, maybe local, possibly out-of-state. In the meantime, Johnson dropped them into the aquarium, where they settled to the bottom among those colored glass stones you see in such places. As a result, the fish were contaminated. The effect of this pollution is what I saw when I stopped by yesterday.”
With no response forthcoming, the junior detective cleared his throat. “Time is of the essence, sir. I need to get on with it. I have to appear before Judge McDermott ASAP for his signature on the warrant.”
“Okay. Get to it. But keep me apprised.”
“Will do.”
* * *
Shortly thereafter, Matheson blew past the secretary and rushed into Johnson’s private office. He was accompanied by two uniformed policemen. The counselor launched himself from his chair, angrily protesting the intrusion.
When Kevin presented the warrant to search the premises, the criminal lawyer shouted, “My files are protected by attorney-client privilege!” He squared his gangly frame to the lawman as if he wanted a physical altercation.
The beefy detective leaned into his challenger with two quiet words, spoken with gritty determination: “Please do.” As his suspect shrank back, Matheson pushed him down into his chair, eliciting chuckles from the other officers.
“Relax, shyster. We’re not here for anything in your files,” Kevin promised, as he stepped around Al to the fish tank. Using the dipnet hanging on the side of the tank, the plainclothesman retrieved one of the dead fish floating on the water’s surface.
When he saw the thing, Johnson’s face turned ashen. His expression told Matheson he’d not even noticed a few fish had died. It was another sign that the aquarium was simply for show, Kevin thought. The detective began scooping up the stones lying on the bottom and dumping them on the desk. Then he spread them out. Among the colored glass stones, Matheson retrieved enough jewels to confirm his suspicions. The attorney was arrested and taken away, but not before the junior detective used the mouthpiece’s telephone in his presence to call his boss with his results.
Subsequently, the junior investigator recovered the remaining diamonds from the aquarium. ©