Madman on a Drum (27 page)

“Why did Teachwell shoot Tommy, do you think?”

“We spoke to Tommy's ex. She said that he said that he was about to come into some serious cash. We think Scottie must have let something slip when he was drinking with Tommy at Lehane's. Tommy was probably using the information for blackmail. You said it yourself—he needed money.”

“That's what it's always about, isn't it? Money.”

“Tell me something.”

“Hmm?”

“Just between us—you were wired, you knew we were listening in. But if we hadn't been here, would you have?”

“Would I have what?”

“Killed her, McKenzie. Would you have killed Karen?”

“If I had wanted to kill her, I wouldn't have called you.”

“With us waiting outside, it gave you a good excuse for not killing her. I understand. I wonder if Bobby will.”

Contrary to popular opinion, victim impact statements don't usually affect sentencing. Most prison terms imposed are mainly the result of plea agreements or strict adherence to sentencing guidelines. So when Victoria Dunston rose in federal court to confront Karen Studder at her sentencing, we knew that it wasn't going to accomplish much except, possibly, to give her some emotional closure. Only she didn't address Karen. Victoria stared at her long enough for all of us to get nervous about it, but then turned to the judge and said, “I have nothing to say to her. I did, I mean, I thought I did. I had a nice speech I memorized, only I think I'd rather talk to you.”

“Go ahead, young lady,” said the judge.

“I thought that this was going to be okay, coming to court and everything. Only it's not what I expected. I don't feel any better. I feel—I kinda feel worse because nothing bad is gonna happen to her. Not really bad, you know? I wanted something bad to happen to her. I wanted her to die.”

“I understand,” the judge said. I was happy that he didn't give her a lecture about the pitfalls of capital punishment.

“Daddy says that she cut a deal so that she would get out of jail. He said she'd be in jail for a long time, but that she made a deal.”

“Yes.”

“I know there's not much we can do about that, the deal, I mean. But there's something you can do, though, as judge, so I don't have to worry about it, so I don't have to be afraid that I'll ever see her again.”

“What can I do?”

“When she gets out of prison, can you make it so that she can't live here anymore?”

“Do you mean in your neighborhood?”

“I mean in the entire state of Minnesota.”

“Yes,” said the judge. “I can order that.”

The defense attorney objected. In exchange for her guilty plea, the federal prosecutor had offered Karen twenty-seven years and agreed to drop twenty-three other felony charges including a RICO beef, and he expected the judge to honor the deal. Only the judge reminded him that it was well within his power to amend the agreement, and if the defendant didn't like it, she could withdraw her guilty plea and take her chances at trial. “Just think how effective this young lady will be telling her story to a jury,” he said. Karen quickly accepted the conditions.

It made Victoria smile for the first time in weeks. She was still smiling when her mother drove her to see the therapist later that afternoon. I told Bobby that despite the ordeal, I thought Victoria was going to be fine. He agreed with me. I never asked if he forgave me for not shooting the woman who was responsible for kidnapping his daughter, and he never said.

The day after Teachwell was killed, I returned to DuWayne Middleton's mama's house and dropped five grand in cash in the big man's lap; it caused him to spill some of his Cocoa Puffs. I told him that his client was dead, that I killed him, that it was in the papers. I told him that the contract on me was closed. I told him to pass the word. I said, “If I hear any more about it, I'll put a hit on you. Maybe save a few bucks and do it myself.” He was watching Regis and Kelly at the time, so I didn't know if he was paying attention until Chopper called me a couple of days later at the St. Paul Hotel and said that the contract had been lifted, “with prejudice,” he said, although I doubt that's the term DuWayne used.

Nina wanted to go out and celebrate. So we did. I took my gun. It was a long time before I went anywhere without it.

Special thanks to Bob Berkel, Jan Buchholz of the Minnesota Department of Corrections, Special Agent Michael G. Goergen of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (Ret.), Mark Hausauer, Keith Kahla, Douglas M. Mock, CFP, Alison J. Picard, Gary and Pat Shulze of Once Upon A Crime Bookstore in Minneapolis, John Seidel, Ben Sevier, and Renée Valois.

I also would like to express my debt to the crime writers who came before me, specifically Carroll John Daly, Dennis Lehane, and the late, great Mickey Spillane, to whom I pay homage in these pages (you'll know where).