Path To Revenge
Chapter Two
William Devers III sat at his mahogany desk looking at the photos of a crime scene spread out before him. He paid special attention to the 38 caliber handgun next to Luis Hernandez Lopez’s lifeless body. He thought, Where did Luis get the handgun? He had just escaped from a courtroom only two miles away. I’ll have my investigators check all the pawn shops between the federal courthouse and the Purple Flamingo restaurant. Maybe a “throw down” gun?
Devers texted District Attorney Investigator Randall to come to his office. Devers had collected the photographs and had put them back in the locked filing cabinet when he heard a knock. “Come in Randall.”
Investigator Randall was tall and slender with thinning hair. He had been a detective with the San Diego Police Department for 15 years before joining the D.A.’s Office five years ago. He had an easy smile and generally got along with people. It was difficult for him to like Unit Chief Devers. Devers was aloof, commanding and bureaucratic. He always covered his backside. But, Randall had to admit that Devers was a good prosecutor— dogged, detail-orientated, and smart.
“Don’t just stand there, sit down. I have a few things for you to do. Check all the pawnshops and any gun shops in a broad swath between the federal courthouse and the Purple Flamingo. I want to find out if there was any possible way that Hernandez-Lopez got the gun along the way. We have to consider the possibility that it was a ‘throw down’ gun. Also, find out everything you can about Drummond’s and Agent Cantana’s background. I want to know about any work-related discipline, how far back the two have worked together, and anything about their personal lives that could shed some light on this.”
“Chief, I’ve known Pepe for a while. Your barking up the wrong tree if you think Pepe used a ‘throw down’ gun to frame Hernandez-Lopez.”
“I don’t care what you think. Just do it. You can leave now.”
Devers texted Marita Camacho. She knocked and walked in a few minutes later. “Hello Marita. Can we be ready to go to the grand jury in
a month on a murder indictment in the Drummond case?”
“That might be pushing it. There are quite a few loose-ends that the investigators are working on. I’ve just begun working on the jury instructions and the exhibits. But those will be finished in time.”
“This a real high profile case, going after a career prosecutor. You need to be on top of your game. I know you have only been a prosecutor for five years in our office and a few years in the Imperial County District Attorney’s Office. Are you up to the task? If not, I can get a more experienced deputy to second chair this case.”
“I’m on-board boss. Mrs. Delgado is believable and she clearly saw Hernandez-Lopez’ hands up, with no gun when he was shot. She has no axe to grind—just a bystander.”
“We need to move on this before the DA has second thoughts.”
“Has the DA or the Attorney General’s Office given you any push back on this?”
“Not much. The DA was concerned about the political ramifications. I had to convince her it was the right thing to do. As far as the AG, the DA told me that when she talked to Attorney General Hammond about it, Hammond seemed almost gleeful that we’re going after Drummond. Something about Drummond being a cowboy and a drunk. But the political winds can change. Especially when it sinks in that we’ll ask for a first degree murder indictment against a career prosecutor whom the press is still hailing as a hero.”
“Did you ever cross paths with Drummond?”
“A couple of times, years back. He’s a maverick—doesn’t think the rules apply to him. Too good to go through channels. I can picture him shooting Hernandez-Lopez like a junkyard dog in the alley.”
Nick had been back from Hawaii for only a week, but it seemed like a month. It was an open secret among the legal community that Nick’s shooting was being reviewed by the DA’s Office. Nick hadn’t been sleeping well and was spending more time in the evenings with his old friend, Jack Daniels. He had only seen Ana once since their trip. He felt isolated. Pepe interrupted Nick’s
silent reverie when he strolled into Nick’s office. “You look terrible Nick.”
“Thanks. That cheers me up.”
“I’m afraid I’m not here to cheer you up. I spoke to my DA Investigator buddy and he told me they plan to impanel a special grand jury for the shooting. Devers is seeking a first degree murder indictment. It’s time for you to get an attorney. You can’t just sit on your hands and wait for the axe to fall. Think of Ana, your kids, your career. Time to get off your ass and fight this.”
“Okay. I’ll give Ted Simpson a call. He’s an old friend who used to be a prosecutor with the San Diego D.A.’s Office. He may have some ideas.”
“Promise me that you’ll give Ted a call today.”
“Yes, Mom. Now get out of here while I make the call.”
Nick felt strange walking into a criminal defense attorney’s office as a potential client, even if it was Ted Simpson’s office. Ted and Nick had worked on cases together as prosecutors over the years. When Ted left to do criminal defense work, they had stayed in touch. Nick refused to brand Ted as a “turncoat” ex-prosecutor. Ted had helped Nick out in the drug cartel case by representing his protected witness, Felicia, in an agreement to give state’s evidence against her former boyfriend, cartel Lieutenant Luis Hernandez-Lopez. Felicia’s cooperation with law enforcement almost resulted in her dying on two occasions: Once from a motorcycle drive-by when she and ICE Agent Ana Schwartz were sprayed with bullets in front of Felicia’s aunt’s house in Chula Vista. And again, when Hernandez-Lopez had her Topeka, Kansas, safe house attacked by cartel members firing a rocket launcher and a 50 caliber machine gun. The attack leveled the house and resulted in Deputy Marshal Lily Perkins’ death from burns covering most of her body. The U.S. Marshal’s Office was still collecting evidence about the attack.
Ted greeted Nick in the reception area. “Not the best of times. I’ll help you get through this.”
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Goes without saying. We go way back. Have a seat. I’ll close the door.”
“First time I’ve been inside your office. You actually look like a successful attorney.”
“I try to pull it off. My clients like the appearance of prosperity. I know you like to get right to it. Tell me what happened in the alley.”
“I’m on record about it. I gave a detailed statement to San Diego P.D.
right after the shooting. Agent Cantana did as well. Here are copies of the transcripts of the statements and the autopsy report.”
Ted read through the statements. He looked up at Nick, “Seems cut and dried—self-defense. Hernandez-Lopez drew a gun and you shot him. Nice shooting by the way—a double tap to the heart. The statements are fine, but I need to hear it from you.”
“Sorry Ted. I won’t do that. I’m not saying anything more about it.”
“What’s going on here? You know that any conversations are protected by attorney-client privilege. I can’t be much help if you won’t talk to me. Are you telling me by your silence that it didn’t go down the way the statements portray it?”
“Counselor, you aren’t going to get me to talk about it. I’ll tell you what I’ve heard through the grapevine. An elderly woman, from a window a couple of buildings from the shooting, told DA investigators that Hernandez-Lopez’s hands were up, with no gun, when the shooting occurred. The shooter’s back was to her.”
“Oh, shit! I see why you came to me. If her story is true, how did the gun get by Lopez’ hand?”
“She doesn’t know. She turned away from the window just after the shooting to look for the building sup.”
A pervasive silence filled the room. It may have been seconds or minutes later, when Ted spoke. “Is Agent Cantana getting representation?” “Leave Pepe out of this. He doesn’t need representation. This is on me.”
“Okay Nick. I’ll look into this. I’ll give the DDA who is handling the case a call. Isn’t it that asshole Devers?”
“We agree he’s an asshole. Don’t say hello for me.”
Path To Revenge
Chapter Two
William Devers III sat at his mahogany desk looking at the photos of a crime scene spread out before him. He paid special attention to the 38 caliber handgun next to Luis Hernandez Lopez’s lifeless body. He thought, Where did Luis get the handgun? He had just escaped from a courtroom only two miles away. I’ll have my investigators check all the pawn shops between the federal courthouse and the Purple Flamingo restaurant. Maybe a “throw down” gun?
Devers texted District Attorney Investigator Randall to come to his office. Devers had collected the photographs and had put them back in the locked filing cabinet when he heard a knock. “Come in Randall.”
Investigator Randall was tall and slender with thinning hair. He had been a detective with the San Diego Police Department for 15 years before joining the D.A.’s Office five years ago. He had an easy smile and generally got along with people. It was difficult for him to like Unit Chief Devers. Devers was aloof, commanding and bureaucratic. He always covered his backside. But, Randall had to admit that Devers was a good prosecutor— dogged, detail-orientated, and smart.
“Don’t just stand there, sit down. I have a few things for you to do. Check all the pawnshops and any gun shops in a broad swath between the federal courthouse and the Purple Flamingo. I want to find out if there was any possible way that Hernandez-Lopez got the gun along the way. We have to consider the possibility that it was a ‘throw down’ gun. Also, find out everything you can about Drummond’s and Agent Cantana’s background. I want to know about any work-related discipline, how far back the two have worked together, and anything about their personal lives that could shed some light on this.”
“Chief, I’ve known Pepe for a while. Your barking up the wrong tree if you think Pepe used a ‘throw down’ gun to frame Hernandez-Lopez.”
“I don’t care what you think. Just do it. You can leave now.”
Devers texted Marita Camacho. She knocked and walked in a few minutes later. “Hello Marita. Can we be ready to go to the grand jury in
a month on a murder indictment in the Drummond case?”
“That might be pushing it. There are quite a few loose-ends that the investigators are working on. I’ve just begun working on the jury instructions and the exhibits. But those will be finished in time.”
“This a real high profile case, going after a career prosecutor. You need to be on top of your game. I know you have only been a prosecutor for five years in our office and a few years in the Imperial County District Attorney’s Office. Are you up to the task? If not, I can get a more experienced deputy to second chair this case.”
“I’m on-board boss. Mrs. Delgado is believable and she clearly saw Hernandez-Lopez’ hands up, with no gun when he was shot. She has no axe to grind—just a bystander.”
“We need to move on this before the DA has second thoughts.”
“Has the DA or the Attorney General’s Office given you any push back on this?”
“Not much. The DA was concerned about the political ramifications. I had to convince her it was the right thing to do. As far as the AG, the DA told me that when she talked to Attorney General Hammond about it, Hammond seemed almost gleeful that we’re going after Drummond. Something about Drummond being a cowboy and a drunk. But the political winds can change. Especially when it sinks in that we’ll ask for a first degree murder indictment against a career prosecutor whom the press is still hailing as a hero.”
“Did you ever cross paths with Drummond?”
“A couple of times, years back. He’s a maverick—doesn’t think the rules apply to him. Too good to go through channels. I can picture him shooting Hernandez-Lopez like a junkyard dog in the alley.”
Nick had been back from Hawaii for only a week, but it seemed like a month. It was an open secret among the legal community that Nick’s shooting was being reviewed by the DA’s Office. Nick hadn’t been sleeping well and was spending more time in the evenings with his old friend, Jack Daniels. He had only seen Ana once since their trip. He felt isolated. Pepe interrupted Nick’s
silent reverie when he strolled into Nick’s office. “You look terrible Nick.”
“Thanks. That cheers me up.”
“I’m afraid I’m not here to cheer you up. I spoke to my DA Investigator buddy and he told me they plan to impanel a special grand jury for the shooting. Devers is seeking a first degree murder indictment. It’s time for you to get an attorney. You can’t just sit on your hands and wait for the axe to fall. Think of Ana, your kids, your career. Time to get off your ass and fight this.”
“Okay. I’ll give Ted Simpson a call. He’s an old friend who used to be a prosecutor with the San Diego D.A.’s Office. He may have some ideas.”
“Promise me that you’ll give Ted a call today.”
“Yes, Mom. Now get out of here while I make the call.”
Nick felt strange walking into a criminal defense attorney’s office as a potential client, even if it was Ted Simpson’s office. Ted and Nick had worked on cases together as prosecutors over the years. When Ted left to do criminal defense work, they had stayed in touch. Nick refused to brand Ted as a “turncoat” ex-prosecutor. Ted had helped Nick out in the drug cartel case by representing his protected witness, Felicia, in an agreement to give state’s evidence against her former boyfriend, cartel Lieutenant Luis Hernandez-Lopez. Felicia’s cooperation with law enforcement almost resulted in her dying on two occasions: Once from a motorcycle drive-by when she and ICE Agent Ana Schwartz were sprayed with bullets in front of Felicia’s aunt’s house in Chula Vista. And again, when Hernandez-Lopez had her Topeka, Kansas, safe house attacked by cartel members firing a rocket launcher and a 50 caliber machine gun. The attack leveled the house and resulted in Deputy Marshal Lily Perkins’ death from burns covering most of her body. The U.S. Marshal’s Office was still collecting evidence about the attack.
Ted greeted Nick in the reception area. “Not the best of times. I’ll help you get through this.”
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Goes without saying. We go way back. Have a seat. I’ll close the door.”
“First time I’ve been inside your office. You actually look like a successful attorney.”
“I try to pull it off. My clients like the appearance of prosperity. I know you like to get right to it. Tell me what happened in the alley.”
“I’m on record about it. I gave a detailed statement to San Diego P.D.
right after the shooting. Agent Cantana did as well. Here are copies of the transcripts of the statements and the autopsy report.”
Ted read through the statements. He looked up at Nick, “Seems cut and dried—self-defense. Hernandez-Lopez drew a gun and you shot him. Nice shooting by the way—a double tap to the heart. The statements are fine, but I need to hear it from you.”
“Sorry Ted. I won’t do that. I’m not saying anything more about it.”
“What’s going on here? You know that any conversations are protected by attorney-client privilege. I can’t be much help if you won’t talk to me. Are you telling me by your silence that it didn’t go down the way the statements portray it?”
“Counselor, you aren’t going to get me to talk about it. I’ll tell you what I’ve heard through the grapevine. An elderly woman, from a window a couple of buildings from the shooting, told DA investigators that Hernandez-Lopez’s hands were up, with no gun, when the shooting occurred. The shooter’s back was to her.”
“Oh, shit! I see why you came to me. If her story is true, how did the gun get by Lopez’ hand?”
“She doesn’t know. She turned away from the window just after the shooting to look for the building sup.”
A pervasive silence filled the room. It may have been seconds or minutes later, when Ted spoke. “Is Agent Cantana getting representation?” “Leave Pepe out of this. He doesn’t need representation. This is on me.”
“Okay Nick. I’ll look into this. I’ll give the DDA who is handling the case a call. Isn’t it that asshole Devers?”
“We agree he’s an asshole. Don’t say hello for me.”