CHAPTER 24

Hennessy spent the afternoon researching Richard Dunstall. He found out everything he could from the publicly available information. Dunstall had a wife and two kids. Coached his son’s basketball team with passion, according to his social media profile. Volunteered for the fire department. He was a member of his local church. According to his work profile, Dunstall worked for Palin Accounting for five months before he quit. He had held every other job for over ten years.

Hennessy drove to an office block in North Charleston to find Dunstall’s current employment with a large trucking company. Dunstall was the bookkeeper in the company, which seemed to have a sign on every second truck that drove through Charleston.

Richard Dunstall was waiting for Hennessy in the parking lot, smoking a cigarette, leaning against the front of his twenty-year-old sedan. Dunstall was average height, average build, and had average looking facial features. His blue shirt was creased and a size too big, his black slacks slightly too long, and his brown hair was cut short. He looked at the prime age for a mid-life crisis.

Hennessy parked next to Dunstall’s car and exited his pickup truck. Dunstall offered him a slight nod. As Hennessy approached, he could only smell the strong odor of cheap cigarettes.

“Mr. Dunstall, thank you for agreeing to meet,”

Hennessy said as he approached. “I understand this will be a stressful time for you.”

“You didn’t give me much choice.”

Dunstall shook Hennessy’s hand. “It was either here or we did a deposition. My employer doesn’t like me taking time off and is already angry that I need to take a day off to go to court.”

“Then why come forward at all?”

Dunstall put one hand in his pocket, as the other held his cigarette. He avoided Hennessy’s question and nodded to his pickup. “Not the sort of truck I’d expect a lawyer to be driving. Most of them around here drive brand new city sedans.”

“I own a vineyard Upstate. A city car wouldn’t last a week out there.”

Hennessy placed his hand on his truck. “But this old girl has been my best friend for almost two decades.”

The answer seemed to ease the reluctance out of Dunstall. “That’s the dream, isn’t it? Retire to make wine, or fish, or hunt all day. That’s my dream, anyway. Wish it could pay the bills, though.”

“That’s why I’m a defense lawyer in Charleston.”

“Ha!”

Dunstall liked the answer. “You’re close to living the dream, then.”

With a rapport built between them, Hennessy pressed. “So, why come forward for Palin’s case now?”

“Conscience got the better of me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“That’s fair enough because it’s a lie.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “The prosecution had something on me.”

“What is it?”

“Just some stuff.”

“We can talk about it here, or I’ll find out through them. But if I find out through them, that information will be exposed in court and will be on the public record.”

“Ah,”

he groaned and rubbed the back of his neck again. “And if I tell you now, will you keep it out of court?”

“I can’t promise that, but if it doesn’t affect your credibility or testimony, then I won’t use it.”

“It has nothing to do with the case.”

Hennessy shrugged. “It’s your choice.”

Dunstall looked at Joe’s pickup, sucked back on his cigarette, and looked out into the distance. “Twenty years ago, I might’ve had a criminal record in another state. Drugs. Not dealing, just taking them. A small amount, but I was chased by an overzealous cop and a prosecutor who was determined to win everything. The judge sealed that record in the case after I completed a five-week drug treatment program. The drug treatment program was the hardest thing I ever did, but I haven’t touched the stuff since. After the program, the judge said she was proud of me and sealed the record. But still, it’s not a good look for my current employer. They’re a trucking company with a strict drug policy. Zero tolerance. And in the interview for this job, I said I’d never been arrested. If they found out about my record, I wouldn’t have a job.”

“And that’s what the prosecution threatened you with?”

He nodded. “Aaron Garrett came to me after Palin was arrested, but I told him I wanted nothing to do with the case. He left me alone, and I thought that was the end of it. But when Tilly and Fisher went missing, Garrett came to my house. He came prepared. I said I wanted nothing to do with the case, but he threatened me with my old record. I told him it was twenty years ago, and it’d been sealed, but he knew the trucking company has a zero tolerance for drug offenses. He told me the files would find their way into the hands of my manager, and I’d be without a job the next day. I had no choice.”

“Are you telling the truth about what you saw Palin do?”

“Yeah. I approached him about the discrepancy in the accounts, and he said it was nothing.”

He glanced at Hennessy and then looked back at the end of his almost fully smoked cigarette. “But I’m not telling you everything.”

“What else do you know?”

He looked around the half-empty parking lot and then back at Hennessy. “I didn’t come forward earlier because there are people around Palin who are dangerous. They’re the type of people you never want to cross.”

“The Rebel Sons.”

“And Stanwell Construction.”

He nodded. “They don’t care about Palin, but they do care about their business.”

“You think they’ll come after you?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, but I don’t have a choice. I either lose this job, or I take a risk with them. Garrett said he’ll protect my family if there are any threats.”

He looked at the end of his diminishing cigarette for a while and then took a long final drag. “I gave these up years ago,”

he explained. “But this whole court case forced me back to them. My wife wouldn’t like me puffing again.”

Hennessy nodded. “Your written deposition also says that you witnessed Palin embezzle money from various companies around Charleston.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said that you saw him embezzle tens of thousands of dollars through false invoices. Among those were a mechanic, a building supplier, and a concreting firm. That’s small-time stuff and nothing to do with Stanwell Construction.”

“That’s right.”

Dunstall eyed him for a few moments, considering the next options. “I’m telling you what I’m allowed to tell you. And that’s all I’ll testify about. I’m not saying a word more. I’ll talk about those small companies, and that’s it.”

“But there’s more to your story.”

“Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t,”

Dunstall looked away and flicked the cigarette to the ground. He trod on it with his foot and walked toward his car door. “But I’m not talking about everything I know. It’s too dangerous. You’re going to have to figure the gaps out yourself.”