Corrupted (32 page)

“So don't say that then, and don't ask me to quit.”

“But I can't watch you get Jason off. I can't do it. It's not tenable. You're tearing me up. The whole family, it's just too hard.”

“I don't understand.” Bennie couldn't believe her ears, her emotions in tumult. “You're asking me to dump Jason, because it's hard for you? That's not right.”

“He came between us once. Don't let him come between us again.”

“What
us
?” Bennie blurted out. “There's no
us
. I haven't heard from you since then. You're with some blonde now.”

“I'm not with any blonde.” Declan shook his head.

“That blonde in court.”

“She's Doreen's best friend.” Declan refocused on Bennie, anguished. His hand squeezed her arm gently. “I haven't been with a woman who mattered since you. There's no one in your league.”

Bennie felt her heart leap with hope, to hear the words. She felt the same way. She never thought Declan would come back into her life. She never thought she'd get pregnant and lose his baby. She didn't know how to tell him and she didn't know how not to, but this wasn't the time.

“Bennie, I know this is crazy. Seeing you again, I thought maybe we were getting a second chance. But not if you represent Jason. If you represent Jason, I can't. I can't do it. I can't justify it to myself.”

“So if I give up Jason, I get you?” Bennie took a step backwards, shocked, and Declan's hand fell from her arm.

“That's not how to put it—”

“But that's the truth. That's what you're saying. That's not fair.”

“It's not about fairness.”

“Yes it is, you're giving me an impossible choice. If I give up my client, I get you.” Bennie shook her head, stricken. “Either you want us to get back together or you don't. It's about us, not our job.”

“It's not that simple. I can't bring myself to do it if you help Jason get away with murder. The murder of my
son
.”

“But
I
can't put my personal life before my job. I did that last time, and look how it turned out.” Bennie felt tears come to her eyes.

“Don't put Jason first. Put us first.”

“It's not about Jason, it's about me. It's about my obligations and the way I feel.”

“Come on, Bennie!” Declan threw up his hands. “Jason doesn't deserve you! He doesn't deserve
us
! He
killed
Richie!”

“I feel terrible that Richie was murdered—”

“No, you don't—”

“Yes, I do! Believe me, I do.” Bennie had to convince him. “But I can't walk away from Jason again. I won't do that. Even if I get you in the bargain.”

“You're sure?” Declan's eyes burned into her with a bitterness that had once been love.

“Yes,” Bennie answered, miserably.

“Then, good-bye.” Declan strode to the door.

 

PART THREE

Six months later, July 20, 2015

Cross-examination is the greatest legal engine ever invented for the discovery of truth.

—John Henry Wigmore

 

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Martina Patterson!” called the court crier, standing aside at the pocket door.

Bennie rose at counsel table, on unusually weak knees. It was the first time she'd felt uncomfortable in a courtroom, and it was because of Declan. She hadn't seen him since he'd left her house that night, and he was sitting in the gallery to her left, on the Commonwealth's side. He lingered in her peripheral vision, looking handsomer than ever in a gray suit and dark tie. She'd stolen a glimpse at him when she first entered, but then she'd hardened her heart and thought of Jason, who would be brought up from the basement of the Criminal Justice Center any minute. She had a murder case to win.

She composed herself, waiting for the judge to enter. The jury had been empaneled but had yet to be brought in, because this would have been the time the judge heard pretrial evidentiary motions: i.e., commonly, the defense would be raising a number of objections to evidence the Commonwealth intended to introduce at trial, but that wasn't going to happen. Bennie wasn't about to move to exclude any of the Commonwealth's proffered testimony. She had a different trial strategy in mind.

She glanced around, getting her bearings. Courtroom 907 was large, since only murder trials were held in the '07 courtrooms, with walls of gray acoustical tiles and a rug in a coordinated gray-patterned synthetic. Light filled the courtroom, filtering through three windows with pinky-mauve sheers that were incongruously lovely for criminal homicide.

The judge's dais was sleek, cherrywood topped with a wide panel of gold electroplate, and it was flanked by a polyester American flag and the blue state flag, and behind the dais, an ersatz bronze seal of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. There was nothing on the judge's desk except a wooden gavel, but the court clerk's desk was covered with a ficus plant in a clay pot, a red Phillies mug containing highlighters, a yellow tube of Jergens hand cream, and a plastic photo cube of a little boy.

The gallery held five room-wide pews of indeterminate blackwood marred with scratches, and Bennie tried to ignore the fact that she was being watched from the Commonwealth side, where Doreen and the twin boys sat with Declan. Behind them sat a trio that Bennie knew from her investigation and the prosecution's witness list: Richie's floppy-haired friend, named Paul Stokowski, sat with Richie's girlfriend, an overly made-up blonde named Renée Zimmer, and her friend, whose name Bennie didn't know.

Bennie had been given the names of both past and current girlfriends by the night bartender at Eddie's, but neither woman had returned her or Lou's calls, which was to be expected. She had also tried to interview Paul Stokowski but he'd also declined, in profane terms that had offended even Lou, who was the sole occupant of the pews on the defense side of the gallery. Bennie had asked him to watch the jury and see how they were reacting to the testimony, but he'd been glaring at Declan from the moment they'd entered the courtroom.

A reporter and a few stringers sat in the pews behind her, talking among themselves with their smartphones and notepads in their laps. The press that covered the courthouse beat had diminished, but Bennie recognized the veteran Karen Engstrom, who had undoubtedly looked up the docket for the day, spotted Bennie's name, and wondered why she was on the case, since there was nothing about the murder that was out of the ordinary.

“Good morning, counsel.” Judge Patterson appeared in the pocket door and swept into the room, flashing a cool smile. She was a tall African-American woman in her forties, whose lovely brown eyes looked even bigger because her face tapered to a delicate chin, with prominent cheekbones. Her dark hair was smoothed back into a chignon, showing the chic gleam of gold earclips, and she held a case file in a manicured hand.

“Good morning, Your Honor,” Bennie replied, getting her head into the game. Judge Patterson had ascended to the bench only last year, which made the judge one more unknown in a case too full of unknowns.

“Good morning, Your Honor,” said Juan David Martinez, the first assistant district attorney. Martinez was about her age, the rumored next in line to be district attorney, and he looked the part of an urban politician—a conventionally attractive man of average height and blocky build, with clipped black hair and friendly brown eyes behind gold-rimmed eyeglasses. He smiled in a camera-ready way, which gave him an affable vibe, though Bennie had heard that he was a killer in the courtroom.

“Counsel, please sit down.” Judge Patterson ascended the dais, then sat in her tall black leather chair. “Ms. Rosato? Would you like to present any motions
in limine
, at this time?”

“No, Your Honor.” Bennie rose, but didn't walk to the black wood lectern between the counsel tables. “Thank you.”

Judge Patterson frowned, puzzled. “Ms. Rosato, have you received the Commonwealth's Brady materials, stating that they intend to introduce evidence of prior bad acts by your client?”

“Yes, I have.” Bennie had a plan. “Your Honor, the ‘prior bad acts' refers to the fact that my client and Mr. Grusini have had a mutual enmity since childhood, which led to their being incarcerated in a juvenile detention center. Your Honor would've permitted that evidence as proof of bad motive on the part of my client, is that correct?”

“Perhaps, yes.” Judge Patterson nodded. “Though the fact that your client's record was expunged in the wake of the Kids-for-Cash scandal gave me pause.”

“Your Honor, I've decided not to challenge the admissibility of prior bad acts by my client.” Bennie glanced over at Martinez, who was on his feet, arching an eyebrow in surprise. “However, Your Honor, it goes without saying that it cuts both ways. If the Commonwealth seeks to use evidence of my client's prior bad acts with respect to his juvenile record, then I trust that Your Honor would also regard as admissible evidence of Mr. Grusini's prior bad acts and juvenile record, which was also expunged. As a practical matter, the two are inextricably intertwined and one probably couldn't come in without the other.”

Judge Patterson looked over at Martinez. “Mr. Martinez? What is the Commonwealth's position? What's good for the goose is good for the gander, is it not?”

“Fair enough, Your Honor,” Martinez answered, then shrugged. “I admit, I expected a motion
in limine
from defense counsel this morning, but so be it.” He looked over at Bennie, with a half smile. “You wanna put all the cards on the table, Ms. Rosato?”

“I'd call it telling the truth.” Bennie turned to face Judge Patterson. “Your Honor, I have prepared a stipulation regarding prior bad acts, which is neutral as to both parties and contains only undisputed facts. I think the Commonwealth can agree with it, which will save the Court's time.” Bennie picked up the draft stipulation from counsel table. “It states verbatim that, ‘Both Mr. Grusini and Mr. Lefkavick were wrongly adjudicated delinquent on December 16, 2002, as a result of a childhood fight in the cafeteria in Crestwood Middle School, and as such were victims of the Kids-for-Cash scandal in Luzerne County. Both Mr. Grusini and Mr. Lefkavick were wrongly adjudicated juvenile offenders and wrongly served significant amounts of time in juvenile detention, as a result of that judicial corruption.”

Martinez crossed to Bennie, peering at the sheet. “I can agree to that. So stipulated.”

“Thank you.” Bennie handed him the stipulation.

“Excellent.” Judge Patterson nodded, pleased. “Isn't it nice when we get along? Ms. Rosato, for the record, I would have ruled against you.”

“Thanks for telling me. I'll sleep better tonight.” Bennie smiled, and Judge Patterson smiled back.

“Counsel, please be seated. Sheriff, would you retrieve the defendant?” The judge gestured to the uniformed sheriff, who was already in motion toward a locked door on the right wall, which led to the secured halls behind the courtroom.

Bennie sat down, picked up her pen, and drew a line down the top page of her legal pad, the time-honored technique of trial lawyers everywhere. The left side would be used to make notes about the testimony, and the right about what to cross-examine on. Her open laptop, case file, and a plastic gold-toned pitcher were the only other things on counsel table, kept clear as a secret reminder to herself to try the case that came in, not the one in the file.

Bennie heard a jingling sound and turned to see the sheriff leading a handcuffed Jason through the door, dressed in the white oxford shirt and khaki pants she'd picked out for him. His hair was neat and his tattoos hidden, as she had instructed. The reaction from the gallery was instantaneous, with Doreen gasping and Declan whispering to her.

Judge Patterson looked over. “Order, please,” she said, though her tone was gentle. “We understand this trial is difficult for the victim's family. However, it's vital that your emotional reactions be restrained, particularly when the jury enters the courtroom.”

Bennie rose to greet an ashen-faced Jason. “Hi, how are you?” she asked quietly, as the sheriff undid the handcuffs.

“I'm okay.” Jason managed a shaky smile, covering his crooked teeth the way he used to, which reminded Bennie of the sweet boy he'd once been. His temper had been becalmed by medication, a superficial fix she hoped would get him through trial. She still couldn't bring herself to believe that he was a murderer, despite the fact that his story about being framed hadn't panned out. She and Lou had investigated, but they'd learned that Richie didn't have enemies at Ackermann and he made a decent living, so it's wasn't as if he owed anybody money. Richie had no drug issues, and though he dated, they couldn't find any jealous boyfriends or husbands, either. In short, they had no leads or evidence on who would've killed Richie and framed Jason.

“Here, sit down.” Bennie pulled out his chair.

“What do I do during court, again?” Jason whispered to her, sitting down, and Bennie took a seat beside him.

“Try and relax. Listen to the witness, but don't make any expressions or funny faces. If you have a question or comment, write it on my pad.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded, tense. His eyes darted around the room, and Bennie could see him taking in the court reporter, an older woman sneaking a last look at her smartphone, and the court clerk, placing a slim blue booklet on the seats in the jury box, which the jurors would use to take notes.

Judge Patterson gestured to the court clerk. “Tania, thanks. Would you please fetch the jury for us?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” The court clerk went to the side door.

Bennie noticed Paul Stokowski and Renée Zimmer slide out of their pew in the gallery and leave the courtroom, which told her that they were going to be called as Commonwealth witnesses. It was standard practice not to have a witness listen to the trial because it could taint their testimony and make them impeachable before the jury. For that reason, Judge Patterson entered a sequestration order, applicable to both the defense and the Commonwealth, requiring potential witnesses for both sides to remain outside the courtroom until they are called to testify. Martinez hadn't otherwise shown his hand about whom he was going to call, and his witness list was long, the traditional kitchen-sink approach. Bennie was worried about only one of the names on the list—Declan's.