She worked through the night, reading and rereading the file, reviewing every exhibit, grisly crime-scene photographs, and expert and police reports, trying to see if there was anything she had missed. The office phone rang and rang, and her email bin filled with reactions to the article about her and Declan, but she ignored the issue. She drank a fresh pot of coffee and she got a second wind until Lou reappeared, coming into the conference room.
“Well, well, well, is this a sex goddess of the Philadelphia Bar Association?” Lou said wearily. “You saw that you and Sergeant Right are all over the local Internet news. You gotta love the media, don’t you?”
“I know, right?” Bennie checked the laptop clock: 4:45 A.M. “Any luck?”
“No. I’m sorry, Bennie, I tried.” Lou eased heavily into the chair beside her, sighing. He wiped his face, which looked slightly greasy, and his shirt was limp. “I talked to a couple of my buddies and looked at video from the other surveillance cams. None of them showed anything better than the ones we already saw or the one we have on Yearling Street. I brought them for you anyway.” Lou leaned over, fished in his pocket, and pulled out a plastic zip drive. “The problem is that Yearling isn’t as commercial as Dunbar. There’s a lot fewer video cams, and the lighting is too crappy to see a damn thing.”
“Thanks.” Bennie picked up the zip drive. “What about earlier videos from Dunbar Street? Were you able to get any of those, so we could see somebody entering the alley, much earlier?”
“I got two, and they’re both on the zip drive, but there were people walking up and down the street all afternoon. Remember, the L stop is at the end of the street? You can’t tell who goes into the alley and who doesn’t.” Lou gestured at the zip drive. “Fire it up. Check it out yourself.”
“I will, just in case.” Bennie inserted the zip drive into her laptop.
“But I’m telling you, bottom line, I got bupkis.”
Bennie waited for the zip drive to open, making a decision. “If that’s true, then I have a Plan B.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Morning came too soon, and they headed to the Criminal Justice Center in heavy foot traffic. Bennie felt tense after a night of no sleep, an office shower, and a spare khaki suit she kept at work. Her topknot was slightly wet, but she girded herself for the day ahead. White TV news vans clogged the street, their microwave towers spiraling into a clear blue sky, and reporters thronged in front of the courthouse.
“Here goes nothing.” Bennie glanced at Lou.
“Don’t let them get to you, kiddo.”
The reporters, photographers, TV people, and stringers came running toward them. “Bennie, Bennie!” they hollered on the run. “Look up, look up! Over here!” “Just one picture!”
Bennie ignored them, plowing forward, and Lou took her arm. They couldn’t move fast carrying the trial bags, though she had a roller bag of files, which she considered using as a battering ram. She didn’t know where all these reporters had come from, then she realized that gossip had replaced real news and she was looking at the usurpers. Cameras snapped all around her and video cameras were shoved at her face, their rubbery black lenses like so many eyes.
“What’s going on with you and Declan Mitchell?” “Any comment on the story?” “Is this revenge or a legitimate case?” “Look up for a picture! On the right, on your right!”
“No comment,” Bennie answered, shaken. She’d been bothered by the press before, but not like today. She felt newly vulnerable, with an irrational fear that if they knew one of her secrets about Declan, they could know the secret that really mattered. The secret that even Declan didn’t know.
Lou tugged her along, parting the crowd. “People, stand aside. We’re coming through, coming through!”
The crowd of reporters ran backwards, calling out questions. “What’s the story, Bennie?” “Were you and Mitchell engaged?”
Bennie powered through the crowd, though she could feel her face aflame. It was so strange to hear Declan’s name coming out of the mouth of complete strangers. She assumed that he would run the same gauntlet when he came to court.
“Come on, you’ve given us a comment before!” “If the story isn’t true, just say so!” “Why did you lie?” “Why did you really take the Lefkavick case?” “Don’t you want to tell your side of the story?”
Bennie and Lou pushed their way into the Criminal Justice Center, joined the attorneys’ line, and hustled through to the metal detector. Bennie felt heads turning to look at her, but that could’ve been her paranoia. They grabbed a crowded elevator, and when they reached the ninth floor, ignored the reporters waiting outside the courtroom door, hoping for comment.
Bennie and Lou entered the courtroom, and the court staff looked up when she headed for counsel table, their gaze lingering. She assumed they had read the article, if only because of the hubbub. The court stenographer lifted an eyebrow, but the court clerk only smiled slyly. The gallery was filling with reporters, yammering to each other, glancing at her, and taking out their skinny notebooks and smartphones. A courtroom artist set up in the front row, opening up his long sketchpad, with its characteristic darkened paper.
Lou leaned over to unbuckle the roller bag. “Looks like we got an audience,” he said under his breath.
Bennie felt too tense to reply, unpacking her laptop and plugging it into the court’s AV system. Suddenly there was a commotion in the gallery as reporters turned to see Martinez entering the courtroom with Declan, Doreen, the twin boys, Renée Zimmer, Stokowski, and his wife. Bennie kept her head turned away, busying herself with unpacking their files.
Lou unpacked beside her. “Plus, did you see we got a sketch artist? We’re coming up in the world. ‘I must be in the front rooooow.’ Do you know who said, ‘I must be in the front roooow’?”
“What?” Bennie asked, preoccupied, but when she saw the crinkly warmth in Lou’s gaze, she realized he was trying to help. “No, who?”
“Bob Uecker. Mr. Baseball.”
“Who’s that?” Bennie unpacked the rest of her stuff, side by side with Lou. She ignored Declan telling the reporters “no comment” as they squeezed into the gallery. Martinez sat down at counsel table, the staff went to their desks, preparing for court to begin.
“Bob Uecker made a great beer commercial in the seventies. He gets thrown out of his seat in the ballpark, but they put him back in the nosebleed section, not in the front row.”
“Really.” Bennie grabbed her legal pad and pen, then sat down in her chair, beginning to get her act together. She reminded herself that she was at home in a courtroom and she had the trial experience to pull a defense out of a hat. Or her butt.
Lou placed a hand on her shoulder. “You can do this, honey. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Bennie ignored the lump in her throat, and just then Jason was brought into the courtroom. He looked pale and tired, and she rose and went to his side, touching his arm. “Hi, Jason.”
“Hi.” Jason’s panicky blue eyes took in the packed gallery. “Yo, what’s going on? This is a full house.”
“Good luck, buddy.” Lou returned to his seat in the front row of the gallery, as Jason offered up his wrists and the sheriff unlocked the jingling metal handcuffs.
“I’ll fill you in later.” Bennie realized that Jason was the only person in the room who didn’t know that the story about her and Declan had gone public. She guided him to the chair beside her, and they sat down.
“So what’s going on, with me?” Jason whispered, leaning over. “You know I’m not testifying, right? I can’t deal with Martinez.”
“Relax, I have a new plan.” Bennie projected a confidence she didn’t feel, but the last thing she wanted today was for him to appear nervous in front of the jury. “Don’t worry. Just remain calm, don’t make any faces, and follow my lead.”
“Okay.” Jason faced front, and the courtroom deputy opened the pocket door that led to the judge’s chambers.
“All rise for the Honorable
Judge Martina Patterson, this Court is now in session!” he bellowed, and the judge swept into the room, with fresh lipstick on and a new lacy collar at the top of her judicial robes.
“Good morning, everyone,” Judge Patterson said, ascending the dais.
“Good morning, Your Honor.” Bennie didn’t know if Judge Patterson had seen the article, but put it out of her mind.
“Good morning, Your Honor.” Martinez shot Bennie a knowing look as they both sat down, and she worried that he’d try to make something out of the story about her and Declan. She’d have to stay on her toes.
“Tania, would you fetch the jury, please?” Judge Patterson gestured to the courtroom deputy, already heading to the jury room. Tania went inside and reappeared a moment later, leading the jurors.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Judge Patterson said, as the jurors entered the courtroom, and they responded with a cheery chorus of “good mornings” and “thank yous” and “good to see yous.”
Bennie watched as Brooklyn Girl, Computer Guy, Marathon Mom, the grandmother, and the others took their seats, picking up their blue booklets. A few of the jurors looked at her, and she smiled back pleasantly. The jury had been instructed not to read anything about the case, but there was no way of enforcing the rule. Bennie chose to trust them, since she believed in the goodness of people, especially those without law degrees.
“Ms. Rosato?” Judge Patterson turned to Bennie. “Ready to begin?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Bennie rose, suppressing her fear. She couldn’t think about the fact that if she lost, Jason would spend most of his life in prison. “The defense would like to call Detective Gallagher to the stand.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Bennie sized up Detective Gallagher while he was being sworn in. He still looked completely relaxed, though he couldn’t have been happy she’d called him back. He had on a different suit and tie from yesterday, a lightweight wool in charcoal color with a solid blue tie. His bald head shone slightly because the air-conditioning wouldn’t cool the courtroom properly until noon.
“Good morning, Detective Gallagher.” Bennie didn’t want to come on strongly adversarial or she’d never get what she needed out of him. If she laid the foundation with him, the fireworks would come with other witnesses.
“Good morning.” Detective Gallagher leaned back in the chair.
“Detective, I’d like to take you back to your testimony of yesterday, with regard to the alley off Dunbar Street, where the murder in question took place. Okay with you?”
“Sure.”
“Excuse me a moment.” Bennie crossed to the exhibits leaning against the easel, picked the one she wanted, and placed it on the easel. “Detective Gallagher, I’m showing you Defense Exhibit 10, an enlarged photograph of the alley in the daytime, on which is superimposed the dimensions of the alley.”
“Okay.”
“Detective Gallagher, in the back of the alley, there is a wall, is there not?” Bennie pointed with her index finger, and the jurors watched, interested.
“Yes.”
“The wall is five feet tall and it is made of cinderblocks, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“On the other side of the wall is Yearling Street, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And the width of the wall is the width of a standard cinderblock, which is about six inches, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Detective Gallagher, you can see here, in front of the cinder-block wall, there is a blue recycling bin on wheels, approximately four feet tall, and next to that a galvanized steel trash can, resting on its side, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, I mean, I take your word for it.”
“Detective Gallagher, you visited the alley on the night of the murder, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You did so as part of your investigation, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“And you saw the alley in the daytime, isn’t that true as well?”
“Yes, I did return in the daylight.”
“Detective Gallagher, does this exhibit represent what the alley looked like when you saw it in the daylight?”
“Yes.”
“Now the left wall of the alley is where Mr. Grusini’s truck was parked, and it does not contain doors at all, such as would be the back entrance to any businesses, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“In other words, it’s an unbroken brick wall on the left.”
“I would call it the west wall, but yes, it’s unbroken.”
“Good point. The west wall. I’m directionally challenged.” Bennie smiled, accepting the correction. She knew she’d made a friend when she noticed Brooklyn Girl nodded. “Now the opposite wall would be the east wall, and it contains the back entrances of two businesses, isn’t that correct, Detective Gallagher?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“And that would be the butcher shop and the medical supply store, isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you happen to notice the position of the recycling bin and the trash can, at that time?”
“Yes.”
“Detective Gallagher, did you determine to whom either the recycling bin or the trash can belonged?”
“Yes, they both belonged to the butcher shop.”
“You knew that how?”
“We asked.”
“The butcher shop would be the closer to the wall of the two doors, is that correct?”
“Yes, but again, I would call that the northernmost door.”
“Right again, Detective.” Bennie smiled briefly. “Do you happen to know if that’s where they commonly keep their recycling bin and trash can?”
“Yes.” Detective Gallagher hesitated. “But they don’t use either bin. They don’t recycle, and their meat scraps are picked up by a private hauler.”
“Thank you, that was my next question.” Bennie pointed to the trash can and recycling bin on the exhibit. “Detective Gallagher, during your investigation of the alley, did you happen to consider the possibility that someone had used the recycling bin or the trash can to climb up and over the wall?”
Martinez jumped up. “Objection, relevance Your Honor.”
Bennie faced Judge Patterson. “Your Honor, I believe I’m entitled to understand the detective’s investigation of the crime scene.”
Martinez looked over at Bennie, frowning. “If your theory is that it’s self-defense, then what difference does it make if somebody could climb over the wall?”
Bennie kept her face front, addressing the judge. “Your Honor, this is a general exploration and it won’t take much longer.”
Judge Patterson paused, sucking in her cheeks slightly. “I’ll overrule the objection, Ms. Rosato. I’m inclined to give you some latitude under the circumstances.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Bennie hid her relief and faced the witness box. “Detective Gallagher, did you consider that as a possibility when you went to the scene?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
“And did you consider that because it didn’t appear to be that difficult, is that correct?”
Detective Gallagher pursed his lips. “I considered it because it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, which I believe was your question.”
“Again, I stand corrected.” Bennie wanted to appear as reasonable as possible in front of the jury. “And I assume that wasn’t outside the realm of possibility because it’s easy to see that somebody could climb up on the trash can to the recycling bin, and since the wall is fairly thick, go over the other side, isn’t that correct?”
“Basically, yes.”
“Thank you.” Bennie breathed a relieved sigh. “Your Honor, I’d like to move into evidence a surveillance video that the prosecutor turned over to the defense, and I would like to mark it as Defense Exhibit 23.”
Judge Patterson turned to Martinez. “Mr. Prosecutor
, any objection?”
“No.” Martinez shrugged.
“Thank you.”
“Detective Gallagher, I’ve already cued up the video, so let me play it while you watch along.” Bennie hit PLAY, then picked up the remote control, and walked toward the witness stand. Detective Gallagher and the jury watched the video, which showed the darkened scene of Yearling Street, the light traffic coming toward the camera, and the deserted sidewalk. Bennie pointed to the bottom of the video. “You’ll see that the time clock is running here and we’re approaching the time at which we believe the murder of Mr. Grusini occurred, approximately eleven fifteen.”
“Okay.” Detective Gallagher kept watching, and so did the jury, and Bennie knew that they were all experiencing the same foreboding as yesterday, the realization that a murder was about to be committed.
“Now this is about the time that we believe the murder occurred, and you will see that within the next few minutes, there appears a figure on the other side of the wall, where the alley would be, and that figure is walking down Yearling Street.”
Detective Gallagher remained silent, but Bennie could see out of the corner of her eye that the jurors edged forward in their chairs.
“I’ll freeze it right there.” Bennie hit STOP the moment the shadowy figure appeared on the street, then she turned to the witness stand. “Detective Gallagher, you have seen this surveillance video before, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you in fact obtain it as part of your investigation?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you consider it in the realm of possibility that this person, whoever they are, might have information that would help you in your investigation?”