Corrupted Read online

  “Who the hell are you, old man?” Jason exploded. “What the hell do you know! You used to be a cop, so you think you know everything! You don’t know anything I’ve been through!”

  “Jason, stop it!” Bennie spotted the guard hurrying toward Jason, who yelled louder.

  “I lived my life in jail!” Jason yelled at the top of his lungs, his face bright red, his neck veins bulging. “Now I’m back in! Do you know what that’s like? Do you have any idea? Get me outta here!”

  “Sit down!” the guard bellowed. “Sit down! Sit down, right now!”

  “Bennie, let’s go!” Lou kicked the chair aside, took her arm, and hustled her through the cubicle door, just as it was unlocked by another guard on the outside.

  “Come with me!” The guard grabbed Bennie’s other arm.

  “Go ahead, Bennie!” Jason kept raging. “I don’t need you, I don’t need anybody!”

  * * *

  It was already after the close of business by the time Bennie and Lou got back to the office, where they parted ways. He went home, and she went through her mail, checked a few things, and then left the office, grabbing her last cab of the day. She slumped in the backseat, as twilight came on and the air got colder. She felt her eyes close, a stress reaction to the events of the day, especially Jason’s outburst. She hadn’t seen that coming, and there in the darkness, alone in the backseat, she let herself face her doubts about whether he was innocent.

  The thought made her heartsick, for Jason, for Richie, for everything that had happened. But there was no going back. She had to defend him, and she was going to win. She just didn’t know how. The case was barely triable. Jason’s story didn’t travel. And she could never put him on the stand to testify. The cab drove slowly down her street, then it stopped, and Bennie paid the cab driver. She slid out of the seat, hoisted her bags to her shoulder, and closed the door behind her. She walked between the parked cars to her house, where she noticed that someone was sitting on her front step.

  She didn’t have to look twice.

  Her heart knew him, on sight.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “Hi,” Bennie said, dry-mouthed.

  “Hey.” Declan rose slowly. The only light came from a fixture beside her neighbor’s front door, and Bennie could see the outline of his gorgeous profile, the darkness of his eyes, and his crow’s-feet that had only grown deeper. He looked handsome, tall, and strong, with his hands in his pockets the way he used to. Declan still did it for her, even after all these years, and she felt her heart lodge somewhere in her throat.

  “I’m sorry about Richie.” Bennie knew it was the automatic thing to say when someone died, but less so when someone was murdered, maybe by her own client.

  “Thank you. Do you mind if I come in a minute? I want to talk to you.”

  “No, sure, right.” Bennie looked down in her purse, rummaging around for her keys, using the time to compose herself. She didn’t know what he wanted, and she didn’t know what she wanted, either. She knew only one thing that they needed to talk about, but she didn’t know when she could talk to him about that, especially not now.

  “Do you still have Bear?”

  “No, sadly, he passed.” Bennie found her keys, walked past Declan to the stoop, went up the steps, and unlocked the door. She stepped awkwardly aside to admit him, finding herself suddenly too close to him in the entrance hall. She thought she caught a whiff of his aftershave, but it could’ve been her imagination. “Do you still have the horses?”

  “No. They passed, too.”

  “Sorry.” Bennie closed the door behind them, as Declan stepped out of the entrance hall and into the living room. Alone, she took a moment to center herself, then slipped off her coat and hung it on the hook. “Can I take your coat?”

  “No. I’m not staying long.”

  “Okay.” Bennie felt a thud in the middle of her chest. She didn’t know what else she expected. She hadn’t expected anything. But somehow, something inside her didn’t want to hear that. She left the entrance hall and went to the living room, where she switched on the light.

  “This is a nice house.” Declan looked around. “Very you.”

  “Thank you.” Bennie managed a smile, remembering so long ago, when she couldn’t imagine fitting him into her house and her life, then she couldn’t imagine her life and her house without him. In the end, she’d lived her life without him.

  “I’m a lawyer now.” Declan looked over, his hands still in the pockets of his parka, which was green. “I caught the bug when I saw you in Superior Court that day.”

  “Wow. So where do you practice?”

  “Mountain Top. General practice. My own firm.”

  “That’s great.” Bennie could see he was keeping his distance. He barely met her eye, as if they’d never been intimate, and she understood. He had moved on, probably with the blonde.

  “It was hard seeing you at the arraignment.”

  “Yes, I felt the same way,” Bennie blurted out, a stab at intimacy that was doomed to fail.

  “That’s what I came to see you about.”

  “Do you want to sit down or anything?” Bennie gestured at the couch, but her arm fell at her side when Declan shook his head.

  “No, thanks. Obviously this is difficult. Strange. Awkward.”

  “All of the above.” Bennie couldn’t resist the urge to make a joke, just to blow off the pressure, but somehow the lid stayed on the pot.

  “You saw the boys at the arraignment. The twins. I got custody of them. I raised them.” Declan looked away, his eyes scanning the living room, but not really alighting anywhere. “They go to Crestwood. Get good grades. Doreen cleaned up her act, too. It took awhile but she did it.”

  “That’s good, too.” Bennie sensed he was trying to build up to something, but she didn’t know what.

  “I tried to help with Richie, but it was too late.” Declan hung his head a moment, and Bennie fought the urge to go over and hug him.

  “I’m sorry, I truly am. It’s so sad.”

  “Yes, it is.” Declan looked up sharply, meeting her eye. “Jason killed him.”

  “Declan, we don’t know that—”

  “Please don’t.” Declan held up a palm, his lips pursed. “I picked out Richie’s casket today. Doreen was too upset to go. So were the twins. We’re going to bury him after they release the body. He was like a son to me, Bennie. He was my son.”

  Bennie swallowed hard, feeling his grief. Declan had just lost a son. She could never tell him that he had lost another child, first.

  “I tried to turn him around. I couldn’t.” Declan shook his head, his voice suddenly hoarse, but his emotions in complete control. “I got him all the help I could. It was too late.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “That’s not who I blame. I blame Jason. Jason killed him.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Bennie said softly, but even she wasn’t sure she believed it, after that display at the prison.

  “Oh, right. Somebody framed him for the murder of his lifelong enemy.” Declan scoffed, but it had a hollow sound. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “I can’t discuss this with you—”

  “I know you. You’re not buying his story for one minute. You can’t be.”

  “Declan, Jason is my client. I can’t discuss what I believe or don’t believe. You’re a lawyer now, you should understand that.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t come here to discuss Jason’s ridiculous story. I came here to ask you not to represent him.”

  “What?” Bennie asked, aghast.

  “Don’t represent him.”

  “I am. I have to.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “I owe him.”

  “No you don’t. They fired you. You don’t owe them anything.”

  “Matthew fired me because of our relationship.” Bennie felt all the regret and guilt coming back to her. “If I hadn’t been with you, Matthew wouldn’t
have let me go. I would’ve taken Jason’s case to the Superior Court. I would’ve won. It would’ve made new law. They would’ve found out about Kids-for-Cash, years earlier. I would’ve put a stop to it. I would’ve prevented all that pain for Jason, Richie, all of those kids.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes I do.” Bennie let it go. It killed her. She would never forgive herself, ever. She could only hope to make it right for Jason, now.

  “But your representing him, it’s tearing me apart.” Declan frowned, with a new urgency. “It’s tearing my family apart. If you represent him, there’s a chance he’ll get off. I can’t let that happen. I need to see Jason punished. Doreen needs to see Jason punished. So do the boys. It’s justice.”

  “Declan—” Bennie said, but she wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. She wasn’t about to argue about what justice was, in this case.

  “You know he’s guilty. He hated Richie.”

  “They hated each other. They were victims of the same judge, the same corruption.”

  “Kids-for-Cash didn’t kill Richie in that alley. Jason did. Jason crossed the line. That’s murder. We want justice for Richie. He deserves it.”

  “If I didn’t represent him, somebody else would.”

  “Right. He’d get a public defender. He couldn’t afford anybody else. They’d lose. The evidence is overwhelming.”

  “That could still happen. Don’t overestimate me. My representation doesn’t guarantee a win. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” Bennie felt herself in the odd position of running herself down. All this time she had been worrying that she’d lose the case, now she worried she’d win.

  “Don’t be modest. You’re the big gun. Everybody knows it, and I don’t want to take a chance.” Declan took a step toward her, his eyes searching hers. “If you ever cared about me, if you ever loved me, I’m asking you to quit.”

  “Declan, you know I loved you,” Bennie said, her heart speaking out of turn.

  “And I loved you, too. We loved each other, and that was real.” Declan touched Bennie’s arm, and she came alive inside at his touch, palpably reconnecting her to him, after so many years.

  “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 decl
ined, 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?”