22
D etective Martin sent Detective Johnson a terse, one-word text from the parking lot of headquarters: “Here.” Minutes later, as Martin entered the building, he found Detective Johnson waiting for him in the lobby, holding a folder in hand.
Handing the folder to Detective Martin, Johnson fell into step beside him. “Our bartender’s name is Michael Culliver, thirty-four years old,” he reported. “His rap sheet includes narcotics possession and distribution, petty theft, and rape.”
Reaching his desk, Martin dropped the file onto it and took a seat. He opened the folder and scanned the first page before looking up at Johnson, who nodded and smiled. “Brother of Maggie Culliver,” Johnson said.
“I’m going to need an arrest warrant,” Martin said.
“Already prepared the affidavit. It’s in the file. I just need your signature,” Johnson replied.
“Thanks,” Martin said as he flipped through the pages, located the affidavit, and read it carefully. After signing it, he closed the file and handed it back to Johnson. “Get this to the Judge.”
“On it,” Johnson said, grabbing the file from Martin’s hands and quickly making his way out.
Two hours later, Detectives Martin and Johnson stood on the porch of Michael Culliver’s house, pounding heavily on the front door. It took a few minutes, but when a groggy Michael finally opened the door and saw the two uniformed officers standing before him, he immediately tried to shut it again.
Detective Martin acted quickly, placing his hand on the door and pushing it open. “Michael Culliver, you’re under arrest for administering a noxious substance to Emily Anderson,” he announced, pushing the arrest warrant into Michael’s chest.
Michael refused to accept the paper, and Detective Martin let it fall to the ground. As he read Michael his rights, he cuffed his hands behind his back.
“Can I at least get my shoes on?” Michael asked.
“I’ll get them,” Johnson said and left the room to find them. Moments later, he returned with a pair of slides and tossed them on the floor in front of Michael.
Back at the station, Detective Martin sat across from Michael in the interrogation room. “What is your grudge against Emily?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t even know an Emily,” Michael responded.
“Maybe not, but your sister does,” Martin said, tossing a still image from a video onto the desk. The picture clearly showed Emily arguing with Michael’s sister, Maggie.
“How did you feel when Emily was yelling at your sister? If that were my sister, it would piss me off,” Detective Martin said, watching Michael closely for any reaction.
Michael remained impassive.
“Was your sister sleeping with Emily’s husband?” Martin pressed.
Michael shrugged, “How would I know?”
“Come on, Michael. You knew what was going on. Why else would you drug Emily? Were you helping your sister blackmail her? Was she going to share the money with you?” Martin’s tone grew more accusatory.
Michael crossed his arms defiantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t drug anyone.”
“Oh, no?” Detective Martin retorted, tossing a photograph onto the table. It showed Michael dropping something into Emily’s drink. “Does this refresh your memory?”
Michael cast his eyes on the picture and said, “I want my lawyer.”
Detective Martin pushed his chair back and stood up, leaving the interrogation room. The interview was over, for now. He went to find Detective Johnson. “Let’s get Maggie in here for an interview. Maybe we can get them to turn on each other.”
“I’m on it,” Johnson replied. It didn’t take him long to find the phone number for the Hudson County Health Clinic, where Maggie and Gabriel worked. He dialed the number, and a woman answered, “Hudson County Health Clinic. How may I direct your call?”
“Yes, I’d like to speak with Maggie Culliver, please.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Culliver is not in today. Would you like to leave a message?”
“No, thank you. I’ll try her at home.”
“Okay. Have a nice day.”
“You too,” Johnson said, then disconnected the call.
Next, he called Maggie’s cell phone, and after several rings, it went to voicemail. He left a message. “Hello, this is Detective Johnson from the Hudson County Police Department. We need to speak to you as soon as possible. It’s regarding your brother, Michael, who is currently in custody. Please call me back at your earliest convenience.” He concluded the call by leaving his direct number.
The next day, after receiving no word from Maggie, Detective Johnson devised a plan to hopefully lure her out of hiding by pitting Michael and Maggie against each other. He visited Michael’s holding cell just before his arraignment. Holding out Michael’s cell phone, Johnson said, “I need you to call Maggie.”
Michael chuckled and replied, “So you can arrest her too? No, thanks.” He turned away from Johnson.
“We’re not going to arrest her. We only want to talk,” Johnson insisted. “Do you want to know why she hasn’t come to see you? It’s because she has skipped town.” Detective Johnson noted the spark of interest in Michael’s eyes.
“You didn’t know?” Johnson continued. “She’s not coming to your arraignment. She’s not going to bail you out. I hope you have a backup plan.”
Detective Johnson allowed Michael to think about it a minute, then said, “Okay, suit yourself.” He put the cell phone back into his pocket and turned to leave.
“Wait!”
Detective Johnson smiled before turning around. “Yeah?”
“I’ll call her,” Michael said, extending his hand to Johnson, “Give me the damn phone.”
Johnson removed the phone from his pocket and handed it to Michael.
Michael snatched the phone from Johnson and quickly dialed Maggie’s number. Turning his back to Johnson, he paced to the corner of the holding cell. As the seconds ticked by in silence, Johnson could tell from Michael’s growing agitation that Maggie wasn’t answering.
Johnson listened intently as Michael left a frantic message. “Maggie, it’s me. I left you a message yesterday. I’m not sure if you got it. I’ve been arrested. My arraignment is at 12:30 today. I need you to come to the courthouse and bail me out. Please, it’s urgent.” He hesitated, looked over his shoulder at Johnson, and whispered into the phone, “You’re not going to pin this all on me.”
After ending the call, Michael turned to face Detective Johnson, who extended his hand expectantly. Reluctantly, Michael placed the phone into Johnson’s palm. Without a word, Johnson turned and left the holding cell, thinking to himself, Let’s see how this plays out.
At 12:27 pm, Detective Martin strolled into the courtroom and slid into the pew beside Detective Johnson. Leaning in, he whispered, “How did it go?”
“She didn’t answer,” Johnson replied quietly. “If she doesn’t show up, he’ll be ready to talk.”
“Good,” Detective Martin said, his eyes drifting to where Michael was seated. He watched as Michael repeatedly glanced over his shoulder, anxiously scanning the entrance for any sign of Maggie.
At precisely 12:30 pm, the side door of the courtroom swung open, and the bailiff announced, “All rise. Court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Sarah Traverse presiding.”
As everyone got to their feet, Detectives Martin and Johnson watched as Michael glanced over his shoulder one last time looking for Maggie, a look of panic on his face.
Judge Traverse took her seat, and the bailiff said, “You may be seated.”
They listened as three defendants faced their charges before Judge Traverse finally called, “Michael Culliver.” At that moment, Michael and his lawyer rose from their seats.
Addressing Michael directly, the judge said, “Michael Culliver, you are being charged with administering a noxious substance to Emily Anderson. Do you understand these charges?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Michael replied.
“How do you plead?” asked the judge.
“No contest,” Michael responded.
Detective Martin whispered into Detective Johnson’s ear, “His lawyer probably told him to plead that hoping to get him a reduced sentence.”
Detective Johnson nodded.
The prosecutor stood and said, “Your Honor, considering that the defendant works as a bartender, giving him ample opportunity to tamper with numerous drinks, and taking into account his prior criminal record, the prosecution requests that he be held without bail.”
Michael snapped his head around to look at his lawyer, and his lawyer made a hand motion, for him to calm down, as the judge read Michael’s file.
When the judge finished reading and looked up, Michael’s lawyer spoke. “Your Honor, my client has no intention of fleeing or tampering with anyone’s drink. To demonstrate this, we would be amenable to the imposition of strict bail conditions, such as regular check-ins and travel restrictions.”
The prosecutor argued, “Your Honor if the defendant is released on bail, returning to his place of employment would pose a significant risk to society, as he could potentially tamper with other customers’ drinks.”
Judge Traverse took a moment to contemplate before speaking. “After considering the arguments presented, the court sets bail at $100,000. Additionally, the defendant is prohibited from returning to his place of employment or working in any service industry establishments. He must check in weekly with the assigned officer and surrender his passport to prevent any risk of flight.”
As the detectives stood to leave, they overhead Michael say to his lawyer, “Where am I supposed to get ten thousand dollars?”