CHAPTER 15
BODYGUARDS
On Friday, August 8 Rebekah called and said she’d heard from Stan; I was elated. Finally he’d be home and we could get down to business. Although I had been working hard on the investigation for several weeks, I didn’t really feel like I had accomplished much. I needed to brainstorm with Stan and figure out the direction our investigation should be going. But after two days had passed and Stan and Monty were still missing, I was devastated. Stan had told Rebekah they were getting on a plane and would be home late that evening. What could have happened to them?
I called Agent Cox to see if she knew anything but I was told she was out of town on assignment. Logan apparently was with her as he was also unavailable. The airlines weren’t much help either. They said Stan and Monty were on the plane when it left Quito but they didn’t make their connecting flight from Miami to Dallas. Rebekah understandably was beside herself having had her hopes raised and then dashed.
Despite a bad case of depression, I had no choice but to keep working. Dusty and Martha were depending on me and I couldn’t let them down. As I was flipping through my notebook to decide who I still needed to question, I heard a commotion outside. Jodie went to the door and opened it.
“What the hell?” she said.
I got up and joined her at the front door. There was a crowd of reporters and a TV crew filming two men with shotguns holding an impromptu news conference.
“My name is Nathan Block. I’m the press secretary for Raymond Farr and the CDA. With me here today is Ronald Jack, our chief security officer. We have been advised by informed sources that Stan Turner and Monty Dozier have been taken into custody by agents of the United States government and are being held as political prisoners. The purpose of their detention and illegal incarceration is to obstruct and tamper with the trial of Dusty Thomas. It is clear that the government intends to convict Dusty Thomas without regard to his guilt or innocence and have taken steps to deny him his constitutional right to counsel of his choice.
“Our most honorable leader, Raymond Farr, has instructed myself and Ronald Jack to provide security for Miss Paula Waters during the duration of the Dusty Thomas case. The CDA will not allow the federal government to abduct her as they have her co-counsel, Stan Turner. This flagrant violation of our Constitution will not be tolerated. Thank you.”
“Mr. Block!” a reporter yelled. “How do you know Stan Turner was taken into custody by the federal government?”
“We have reliable sources within the federal government who have confirmed that Stan Turner and Monty Bozier were taken off a commercial flight which would have brought them back to Dallas, and taken to an undisclosed location to be held indefinitely.”
“Who are these sources?” the reporter asked.
“Obviously we cannot disclose who they are as that would compromise them. But, I will assure you these are extremely reliable sources high up the federal government. You should ask the FBI to deny that they have Mr. Turner and Mr. Dozier in custody.”
Jodie closed the door and we went back into my office. The phone was ringing so Jodie picked it up. She indicated it was a reporter wanting to talk to me. I motioned for her to take a message.
“This is all I need—the damn CDA following me around everywhere I go,” I said.
Jodie raised her eyebrows and said, “I don’t know. A little security couldn’t hurt after everything that has happened.”
“I know,” I said, “but we’ve been trying to distance ourselves from the CDA. Having them hanging around isn’t good.”
“Well, tell them you don’t want their help then.”
“Somehow I don’t think they would take too kindly to that. It would just piss them off and we don’t need any more enemies,” I said, “especially a bunch of anarchist. . . . I guess I’ll just have to live with it.”
“Do you think the Feds have Stan and Monty?”
I replied, “No, that’s ridiculous. Why would they do that? Besides there is a court order prohibiting them from messing with us.”
Jodie shrugged. “But why—”
“The CDA will do or say anything if they think it will help their cause. They don’t have a clue where Stan and Monty are. As usual, they are trying to take advantage of the situation.”
Jodie raised her eyebrows, shook her head, and went back to whatever she was doing. I started flipping through my notebook again. A notation about a charitable foundation jumped out at me. What charitable foundation? I hadn’t talked to Bobby’s supervisor Robert Perkins yet so I decided to ask him. Perkins agreed to meet me at his office downtown in the Federal Building. When I left the office my two CDA bodyguards, an FBI agent, and several press vehicles followed me. I felt like I was leading a funeral procession.
Perkins was younger than I expected—late thirties maybe. He escorted me to a conference room and asked if I’d like something to drink. I asked for a glass of water.
“So, now that you’ve been at it awhile, do you still think your client is innocent?” Perkins asked.
“Absolutely. Dusty Thomas is a very kind and gentle man. He isn’t capable of murder.”
Perkins chuckled. “Bobby Tuttle could have driven a Buddhist monk to murder. He was our best collector. He put the fear of God into each and every taxpayer who crossed his path. Once they became his target, they would do anything to get the taxes paid just to get him off their back.”
“That’s what I understand, but any one of those other taxpayers could just have easily murdered him.”
“But they weren’t found hovering over the body.”
I ignored his comment and said, “I’m particularly interested in a charitable organization he was after. Do you know who I’m talking about?
“The People’s Mission. Bobby’s has been after them for years. They are a so-called church, but the organization is really just a front for some high-rollers trying to avoid paying taxes.”
“How many people are involved in the People’s Mission?” I asked.
“Maybe fifty or so.”
“Who’s the ring leader?”
“A guy named Riley Davidson started it. He’s actually in the real estate business but he operates out of his nonprofit corporation. Tuttle was in the process of auditing Davidson’s corporation as well as several other members.”
“Davidson ever make threats or get violent?” I asked.
“Yes, he’s very self-righteous and outspoken about the propriety of what he is doing. One of his relatives, a cousin I think, is an attorney and set the whole thing up. The corporation takes care of all his expenses both personal and business so he has no need for a salary. All the real estate income goes to the corporation. Since it claims to be a nonprofit corporation it pays no taxes.”
“Wow. What a deal.”
“Anyway, Tuttle disallowed a slew of personal expenses paid by the corporation and assessed it penalties and interest. Of course, he appealed and I don’t think a final ruling has come down yet.”
“How did Davidson take it?”
“He screamed and yelled and claimed religious persecution. I think he contacted his congressman.”
“Does he really practice a religion?”
“I guess. He talks like a preacher, but I don’t think he is affiliated with any reputable church in this country.”
Perkins and I talked for quite awhile. I got a lot of background information on Tuttle’s service with the Internal Revenue Service and personal life. He also told me how to get in contact with Davidson. I seemed to be gathering quite a list of suspects, each who had sufficient motives to kill Tuttle. While I was downtown, I stopped into the DA’s office to see Bart Williams. It was time for a little intelligence gathering. Bart was glad to see me and invited me to lunch. We went to a little café underneath One Main Place.
“Any word on Stan?” Bart asked.
“No, have you heard anything?”
“No, just what I read in the papers.”
“What about the CDA claim
that Stan has been taken into custody by the Feds?”
“Ordinarily I would say it was BS, but I heard one side of a conversation between Trenton and Logan. It sounded like they believed Stan had gone over to the dark side and would have to be treated accordingly.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know exactly, but it didn’t sound good.”
“Maybe I need to file a writ of habeas corpus and contempt motion in Judge Stanton’s court. I don’t think he would take kindly to the government taking Stan into custody.”
“He wouldn’t, unless there was evidence that Stan was doing something wrong.”
“But he wasn’t.”
“What was he doing in Quito?” Bart asked.
One of the risks in discussing the Dusty Thomas case with Bart was he was just as liable to get confidential information out of me as I was from him. I didn’t want the prosecutor to know why Stan went to Quito but if I didn’t come up with some plausible explanation, Bart would think it was related to the CDA or Dusty Thomas.
“One of his best clients was reported missing by his wife. Evidence at his home indicated he had gone to Ecuador on business. Stan went looking for him.”
“Oh, Jesus. Why didn’t he file a missing person’s report and let the government deal with it?”
“His wife wanted Stan to handle it. She didn’t think the government would try very hard to find him. Stan agreed just to go down and see if he could figure out what had happened to him. He was supposed to check things out and come right back.”
“Your partner is pretty stupid.”
“Maybe, but if I was in trouble I’d want him to be my lawyer. He doesn’t throw in the towel just because a case is difficult or a little dangerous.”
“Well, if I can help out in any way, let me know. I know it must be hell trying to prepare the Thomas case on your own. You look stressed out.”
I felt stressed out. Was the government really after Stan? Did I need to go to court with a writ of habeas corpus?
“I am a bit tired,” I confessed.
“Well, take the afternoon off and rest,” Bart said as he got up to leave. “I’ll drop by tonight and take your mind off your troubles.”
I smiled. “Hmm. That would be nice.”
“Okay, then—until tonight.”
I got up and hugged him goodbye. After Bart left, I sat back down to digest our conversation. Before I could go to court with a writ of habeas corpus, I needed a little evidence. I couldn’t act on rumor and suspicion alone. What a mess this was. How did Stan do it all those years by himself? I felt so alone and helpless but I couldn’t start feeling sorry for myself. The best therapy for desperation, I had discovered, was work, so I asked for a telephone book and looked up the number for the People’s Mission.