“Uh, no.” Bennie managed a smile. “You might want to stop screaming at your client.”
Judy relaxed back in the chair. “Good point.”
Pigeon Tony glanced from one lawyer to the other as Bennie came over, pad in hand, sat on the edge of the conference table, and looked down at him.
“Mr. Lucia,” she said, “you and I haven’t talked much during this case because Judy is your lawyer. She is doing a wonderful job for you. She has a defense that the jury can understand and believe in. Depending on what she does tomorrow, she may win this case for you, which is a very difficult thing to do. She is advising you not to testify, and I would listen to her if I were you. You should also know that in the United States very few defendants like you take the stand and testify. I have defended many murder cases and never had a defendant on the stand.”
“Si, si.”
“But as she told you, it is your right to testify if you want to. So here’s what I think. Tonight you sleep on it.” Bennie caught herself in the idiom when Pigeon Tony’s forehead crinkled. “You rest tonight and you can decide tomorrow. If you still want to testify tomorrow, then you and Judy can discuss it again. Okay?”
“Si!” Pigeon Tony said quickly, pumping his head with vigor.
“Judy will discuss it as much as you want to, because it is a very important decision. It is the single most important decision in every defense. And it is your decision. Understand?”
“Si, si.” Pigeon Tony seemed to back down.
Judy exhaled. “Okay, I agree.”
Bennie shot her a look. “It doesn’t matter whether you agree.”
Uh, oh. Judy smiled. “But it’s a good thing that I do, huh? Makes it nicer, all around.”
Bennie rolled her eyes and smiled at Pigeon Tony. “Mr. Lucia, you see, Judy gets a little excited, and she cares about you. Also she’s young. Not like you and me.”
Pigeon Tony burst into laughter. “You young woman, Benedetta!”
“I’m forty-five, sir. I stopped being young forty years ago.” Bennie hopped off the table and nodded at Judy. “Maybe you should order your client some dinner before you start talking business.”
“Okay, sure.” Judy reminded herself she had to do better in the care-and-feeding department. She had even lost custody of her puppy, she was such a bad mother. “Pigeon Tony, you want me to order dinner before we talk?”
“Dinner, si.”
“You want Chinese? You had the plain lo mein.”
Pigeon Tony wrinkled his tan nose. “Bad pasta.”
Judy smiled. “Want pizza?”
“Si, si.”
Judy nodded. It was only the 3,847th time they’d had pizza delivered in the past week. “Okay, pizza it is.” She went to the phone to order when the conference room door opened suddenly, and everybody looked up.
Frank came in and tossed the file on the table, where it slid across the smooth surface. His face was grim but oddly relieved. “My parents were murdered in their truck that night,” he said simply.
Judy’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean? Didn’t you read the expert’s report?”
“I did. That’s what proves it to me.”
“How? The expert found it was an accident.”
Frank managed a half smile. “But I know something he didn’t.”
Judy put the phone back down in surprise.
45
“You may sit down,” Judge Vaughn said as he entered the courtroom and ascended the dais. His manner telegraphed that he was ready to move along, which was just how Judy felt. She couldn’t wait to put on her case, now that she believed she had a winner. But a lot depended on what happened with the Commonwealth’s last witness.
Judy shifted forward on her seat. It had occurred to her, as she worked through last night preparing questions and making phone calls, that the tables had turned in this case. Until this morning it had been Pigeon Tony on trial, but from now on it was Angelo Coluzzi’s turn to be tried for murder. And Judy didn’t want him to get away with it, even in death, though she still didn’t know if she could convict him with the evidence she had. But she had a better chance than before Frank’s discovery. And Judy was glad that it was Frank who had found the key. It was fitting.
She glanced over at Pigeon Tony, who looked intent now that the truth would finally come out about his son’s death. In the front row of the gallery, Frank was on the edge of the pew. The rest of the gallery settled down, with only the reporters and courtroom artists working away. The judge had seated himself and cleared a stack of pleadings from the center of the dais.
“Good morning, Ms. Carrier, Mr. Santoro. Mr. Santoro, you may call your first witness.”
Santoro rose, in a new dark suit with deep vent. “Good morning, Your Honor. The Commonwealth calls Calvin DeWitt to the stand.”
Judy looked back as the door to the courtroom opened and the bailiff escorted in a middle-aged African-American man with a little goatee and rimless glasses. He wore a neatly pressed suit and carried himself with confidence as he walked to the stand, was sworn in, and sat down.
Santoro took his place at the podium. “Mr. DeWitt, please identity yourself for the jury.”
“I am an officer with the Accident Investigation Division, or AID, of the Philadelphia Police Department. I have been with AID for fifteen years, during which time I have investigated over five thousand traffic accidents in Philadelphia County. Basically our mission is to determine how a traffic fatality occurred.”
“Officer DeWitt, what is your training to perform such a complex task?”
“We are schooled in the most modern methods and technology of accident reconstruction, including courses in physics, crash investigation, bridge and highway construction, human anatomy, drug and alcohol impairment in the driver, and computer-animated graphics.”
Santoro nodded. “And do you receive accreditations, sir?”
“We do. We may be certified by ACTAR, which is the Accreditation Commission for Traffic Accident Reconstruction. I am so certified.”
Santoro flipped a page in his legal pad. “Your Honor, I move to have Officer DeWitt qualified as an expert.”
Judy nodded. She needed his testimony, too. “No objection.”
“Granted,” Judge Vaughn said, and Judy cast a glance at the jury. They appeared to be listening quietly, and she hoped they were anticipating the testimony about the accident, after yesterday with Jimmy Bello. Judy had subpoenaed him so he’d be in court today, and he sat coolly near John Coluzzi, who was himself stern-faced.
Santoro addressed the witness. “Officer DeWitt, are you the AID officer who investigated the traffic accident that occurred on January twenty-fifth, involving the deaths of Frank and Gemma Lucia, of Philadelphia?”
“I am.”
“And please describe briefly what you did to investigate that accident?”
Officer DeWitt looked up. “May I refer to my report?”
“Of course.” Santoro located a paper in his stack and distributed copies to Judy and the court personnel, who gave one to the judge. “Your Honor, I wish to move into evidence Commonwealth Exhibit Twenty-three, which is Officer DeWitt’s report of the accident in question.”
“No objection,” Judy said. She set the report aside to signal to the jury that she had seen it already. In fact, she’d memorized it last night, but there was no way she could signal that, as much as she wanted the extra credit.
Officer DeWitt thumbed through his report. “This refreshes my recollection. I visited the accident that night at one o’clock in the morning, less than one hour after it occurred. I examined the truck involved, a VW pickup. I also examined the guardrail on the overpass where the truck went over, as well as the point of impact on the underpass beneath.”
“Could you briefly describe how the accident occurred?”
“Yes. The truck, a light, old-model pickup, was traveling west on the double-lane overpass when it skidded on a patch of ice, due to driver error and road condition
s. The truck collided with the guardrail, tipped over the side of the overpass, and landed upside down on the underpass below, where the fuel tank ruptured and burst into flame. The occupants would have been killed on impact, if not by the fire that consumed the vehicle’s passenger cab, though their bodies had been removed by the M.E.’s office by the time I arrived at the scene.”
“So it is your expert opinion, to a reasonable degree of scientific certainty, that the crash of the truck was an accident, pure and simple?”
“Yes.” Then DeWitt added, “Though no accident that involves loss of life is simple. But yes, it was an accident.”
“I stand corrected. You are quite right.” Santoro nodded. “Officer DeWitt, I take it from your explanation of how the accident occurred that no other vehicles were involved?”
“No other vehicles.”
“And there were no other fatalities as a result of the accident?”
“No.”
“As a result of your conclusion that it was an accident, no charges of any kind were issued by the police, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And the case was considered closed by the Philadelphia Police Department?”
“Yes, it was and is.”
“No further questions,” Santoro said. He returned to his seat as Judy stood up, went to the podium with her papers, and introduced herself before her first question.
“Officer DeWitt, you said you examined the Lucias’ truck an hour after the accident and that it had caught fire. What caused that fire, in your opinion?”
“The fuel line ruptured and the tank was compromised when the truck overturned. The interior of the vehicle was filled with fuel and then consumed by fire.”
Judy hoped Frank wasn’t visualizing this. “Officer DeWitt, did you perform any tests to determine the residue left by the fire on the interior or exterior of the truck?”
“No, there was no reason to.”
Judy made a note. THAT’S WHAT YOU THINK, SMARTYPANTS. “In your opinion, Officer DeWitt, what caused the fuel to ignite?”
“Many things commonly cause such fires, such as sparks from an electrical connection, the heat of an engine in contact with fuel, and often when steel and concrete collide, sparks result.”
“So it’s your testimony that the Lucias’ pickup truck left the overpass because of the ice and driver error, rolled over the guardrail, and crashed onto an underpass, and that the impact of the crash or the fire from the ruptured fuel tank killed the Lucias?”
“Yes.”
Judy didn’t pause. “What kind of fuel was it?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Do you recall the type of fuel it was that ignited, in the cab?”
“Diesel.”
Judy made a fake note. EUREKA! She asked the question she needed the answer to: “How do you know that it was diesel fuel, if you performed no tests on the residue left behind?”
“The truck had a diesel engine.” Officer DeWitt glanced at his report. “I examined the engine of the vehicle and contacted Harrisburg to determine its registration. It was a 1.6-liter diesel engine. Fifty-two horsepower.”
Judy thought a minute. Had to cover all the bases. “So is it your testimony that the ruptured fuel tank in the pickup was the only fuel container in the pickup?”
The witness cocked his head. “What other kind of fuel container could there be?”
“Well, was there a lawn mower in the truck, or a chain saw, or just a spare gas can?”
Officer DeWitt reflected on it, then shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. The back bed was empty, as was the cab, except for minor debris and some broken glass.”
“If you had seen something like that, you would have noted it, would you not?”
“Yes. I take careful notes.”
“And does your report contain any such notation?”
Officer DeWitt thumbed through the exhibit. “No.”
“Thank you,” Judy said, and remained at the podium, as the witness stepped down. She was halfway home. And she was saving the best for last.
“No redirect, Your Honor,” Santoro said, rising at his seat. “The Commonwealth rests.”
On the dais Judge Vaughn nodded smartly. “Ms. Carrier, looks like you’re up, for the defense.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. The defense calls Dr. William Wold to the stand.” Judy looked expectantly toward the double doors, feeling oddly like a groom awaiting a bride. Dr. Wold strode past the bar of court in a dark suit, walked to the witness stand, and was sworn in. “Dr. Wold,” she began, “please tell the jury who you are and what you do.”
“I am an accident reconstruction expert. I was an officer with the Accident Investigation Division of the Philadelphia Police for thirty-two years until my retirement, and now I consult full-time. I determine how a traffic accident occurred in order to testify at trials, like this one.”
“Dr. Wold, what is your training to perform such a complex task?”
“I teach courses in accident reconstruction, including courses in crash investigation, guardrail construction and renovation, bridge and highway construction, anatomy, drinking and driving, physics, the sleep-deprived and drugged driver, forensic sciences, and computer-animated graphics.”
“And are you an accredited accident reconstructionist?”
“Yes, by ACTAR, as well as by agencies in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.”
Judy looked at the judge, who was skimming papers on his desk. “Your Honor, I move to have Dr. Wold qualified as an expert.”
Santoro nodded. “No objection,” he said, and Judge Vaughn nodded.
“Granted,” he ruled. “Please continue, Ms. Carrier.”
Judy smiled to herself. Santoro was stuck. He didn’t dare object in front of the jury, not after he’d opened the door with the AID man. Judy had hoped he’d go for it, after Jimmy Bello, and he had. She deserved extra-extra credit. “Dr. Wold, did there come a time when you examined the wreck of the Lucias’ pickup?”
“Yes, about four months ago, at your request. You asked me to determine how the accident had occurred.”
Santoro was on his loafers. “Objection, Your Honor. Where’s the chain of custody for the vehicle? How do we know he examined the right vehicle?”
“Your Honor,” Judy said, waving the papers, “I was just about to introduce these documents into evidence. They are the bill of sale and the receipt for the Lucias’ truck. The VIN, or Vehicle Identification Number, matches the wreck that Dr. Wold examined at my request.”
Judge Vaughn motioned for the papers, and Judy handed them to the bailiff, who brought them to the judge. She held her breath while the judge read the documents, hoping he wouldn’t wonder where the junkyard release was, since all she could offer into evidence was a wire cutter and a couple of senior citizens.
Judge Vaughn handed the documents back with a grunt. “Go for it, counsel.”
“I move these document into evidence as Defense Exhibits Twenty and Twenty-one,” she said, handing Santoro the copies, and he read them quickly.
“No objection,” he said, and Judy returned to the witness.
“Now, Dr. Wold, more paperwork. Did you prepare a report in connection with your findings?”
“I did.” Judy located the copies of the report and distributed one each to Santoro, the judge, and the bailiff. “Your Honor, I move this report into evidence as Defense Exhibit Twenty-three.”
Santoro, reading, put up a hand. “No objection,” he said after a moment, but he kept reading.
“It’s admitted,” Judge Vaughn ruled, and went back to skimming his papers.
Judy paused so the jury could focus. “Dr. Wold, please tell the jury what you investigated to determine how the accident occurred.”
“I examined the wreck, measured it, researched the make and model of truck, which was a 1981 VW Rabbit. I visited the scene, obtained the AID report from the police, and also ran a number of residue tests on the exterior of the vehicle and
the interior of the passenger cab.”
“What were the results of those residue tests?”
“Well, I found a number of residues in the burned wreck, primarily residue of burning plastic, residue of burned and partially burned diesel fuel, and residue of gasoline.”
Judy noted it. RESIDUE CITY. “Were these residues—diesel, oil, and gasoline—found in equal amounts?”
“No, not at all. By far the greatest amount of residue, particularly in the passenger cab, was residue of gasoline. Both unburned gasoline and gasoline-impregnated ash were all over the interior of the passenger cab.”
Judy made a note. YOU GO, GIRL. “Dr. Wold, what is the significance of that gasoline residue in the passenger cab?”
“It is extremely significant. It tells us that it was a gasoline fire that engulfed the passenger cab.”
“I see.” Judy paused. “Dr. Wold, is there any reasonable explanation for the gasoline inside that cab?”
“Yes, of course. As I said in my report, it is very common for construction vehicles to be carrying all sorts of fuel, even in their cabs. In fact, I assumed that the Lucias’ truck was, since it was a working truck. In addition, if the truck was carrying gas cans, a lawn mower, a chain saw, or the like, gasoline could come from there.”
Judy nodded. “But what if the truck wasn’t carrying any of those things?”
“What do you mean?”
Judy sighed. The toughest expert she ever met. Biting the hand that feeds him. She could only hope it increased his credibility, because he was busting her chops. “I mean, do you have an explanation for a diesel-powered truck, carrying no container of gasoline, to be engulfed in a gasoline fire during a crash?”
“No.”
“Nothing in your examination could explain why a diesel truck with no gasoline in it had a gasoline fire?”
“That’s what I just said.”
Judy made a note. I AM NOT PAYING YOU, NO MATTER WHAT. “Dr. Wold, I direct you to the conclusion of your report. Could you please read it to the jury?”