Page 56 of Maddy's Justice

“What else?”

“Something about a hunting trip to an island in the Gulf. A couple of references to a guy in Chicago, no name, and a place up north,” Sorenson said.

“Anything else?” Carvelli asked.

“Let me think,” Sorenson said. “Like I said, it was all very cryptic. Like they all knew what was being referred to, but I didn’t. Oh, I know, there was a couple of mentions about girls, the girls. But, again, it was vague and didn’t make any sense.”

“What about Chicago?” Waschke asked.

“Just that Chicago wasn’t happy. The man in Chicago. That was when they talked about the lawyer or maybe lawyers and the lawsuit.”

Sorenson snapped his fingers then said, “I’m pretty sure the guy we picked up said, ‘we need to get the suit settled.’ It was hard to hear for sure, but I think he said it.

“Mostly it just seemed like things lawyers would talk about. Other lawyers and bullshit like that. The guy we picked up said he didn’t get to go hunting on the island because he had to come here. I remember that but it just sounded like a weekend getaway.”

“Yeah, it does,” Carvelli agreed. “Probably not a big deal. What about this business about the girls? Did that have to do with missing lawyers?”

Sorenson thought hard for a long moment trying to remember.

Finally, he said, “No, I don’t think so. The couple times they said girls, or the girls was not specific to anything.

“The bug in the car is not perfect. When you’ve got three or four people talking together and sometimes over each other, it’s hard to pick things up,” Sorenson explained.

“And you didn’t record it?”

“No. What are you gonna do? You gonna talk to Kadella? He ain’t gonna like how you got this.”

“Got what?” Carvelli asked. “What do we have? Four guys in a limo talking about what? Goofy shit it sounds like.”

“Tell Marc,” Waschke said. “Maybe he’ll know and likely it means nothing more than this big shot you picked up at the airport was pissed he didn’t get to go hunting and frolic with some hookers on an island. Rich guys do this stuff all the time. Private playland getaways for the rich and politically connected.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Carvelli said.

“Dan, was the guy’s name, Wade MacAlister? The guy you picked up at the airport?” Carvelli asked.

“I don’t know. They didn’t use a name.”

“Yeah, Wade MacAlister,” Waschke said looking at his computer. “We got a pickup for two-o’clock today to get him and take him back to downtown St. Paul and bill it to Stafford, Hughes. I was gonna give it to Franklin. You want it?” he asked Sorenson.

“Nah, give it to Franklin. They didn’t tip worth a damn.”

“Thanks,” Franklin said.

Marc was at his desk, door closed, going through more discovery requests. There was a commotion in the work area distracting him for a moment. He listened but could not make out the voices. His door opened and Connie and Tony Carvelli were standing there.

“Are you decent?” Connie asked.

“What? What do you mean, am I decent? No, I’m sitting at my desk naked below the waist. What kind of sick twist do you think I am? Don’t answer that,” Marc replied.

While Connie moved a chair over to a window, Carvelli sat down in front of the desk.

“You gonna let her smoke in here?” Carvelli asked.

“It’s pointless to argue. She just threatens to raise my rent. What’s up?”

“Dan Sorenson had some guys of your acquaintance in a limo,” Carvelli said.

Carvelli explained to them what Sorenson overheard while driving the Stafford, Hughes lawyers.

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