Corrupted Read online

  “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.

  She leaned nearer to Jason, to show the jury she was on his side, and watched the jurors file in, getting a first impression as they entered the jury box. There was a pasty-faced young man who looked like a Programmer Guy; a thirty-something black woman built lean as a runner, Marathon Mom; a tattooed redhead with oversized black glasses, Brooklyn Girl.

  Bennie slid from the case file the chart they’d been given by the Court, containing the jurors’ names, ages, occupations, and general location of their residence. The jury composition was seven males, five females, and two female alternates, so even-handed that she doubted it would be a factor. The race of the jurors reflected the city’s diversity: five white, four black, two Hispanic, an Asian, and an older Indian grandmother, so that wouldn’t be a factor, either. Bennie missed the days when the lawyers conducted voir dire, questioning the jury and getting to know them. The rules had changed, and now judges conducted voir dire to save time, asking only the most routine questions, while the lawyers watched and took notes, then picked the jury. Bennie always found the word picked to be ironic in that lawyers don’t actually select juries but actually deselect them, through the use of challenges which eliminate potential jurors that one side or the other believe might be somehow biased, resulting in those that remain unchallenged to comprise the actual jury. It wasn’t the same because Bennie always used voir dire to establish a rapport with the jury, to benefit her client. Those days were gone, and she w
ould be watching the jurors during trial. Until then, their specific leanings, beliefs, and personalities were part of the vast sea of unknowns.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” Judge Patterson smiled as the jurors settled into their numbered seats.

  “Good morning, Judge,” “Good morning, Your Honor,” “Nice to meet you,” they murmured as a group, picking up their blue booklets and smiling nervously back at the judge.

  “Thank you for agreeing to serve. We are aware that it’s an inconvenience, but service on jury duty is essential to the administration of criminal justice in this city.” Judge Patterson gestured at Martinez. “Jurors, seated at the table nearer to you is Juan David Martinez, who represents the Commonwealth in this case, and at the far table is counsel for defendant, Bennie Rosato. Next to her is the defendant in this matter, Jason Lefkavick.”

  Bennie nodded pleasantly, though Jason stiffened.

  “Jurors, please feel free to make notes in your numbered booklets, and only in your booklets. They will be collected at the end of the day and may not be taken home. Additionally, you are asked to refrain from watching or reading media about this case. You are instructed not to discuss this case among yourselves at anytime until all the evidence has been submitted, both sides have rested their cases, and I have provided my instructions on the law. Only at that time may you begin your deliberations. Now, we may begin. Mr. Martinez?”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Martinez jumped up with a toothy smile, buttoning his jacket as he walked over to the jury box. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you very much for your service. We’re here on a very grave matter, the gravest. The defendant, seated over there in the new white shirt, is charged with the premeditated murder of a young man named Richie Grusini, which took place on Monday night, January 12, of this year. Richie, who was only twenty-six years old at the time of his murder, leaves behind his mother and grieving family.” Martinez nodded in Doreen’s direction, which was one of the cheapest tricks in the book, because it wasn’t permissible in an opening to refer directly to a victim’s family.

  The jury looked over at Doreen and Declan, but Bennie kept her face front, not to contribute to his stage directions. Martinez was an experienced enough lawyer to have a bag of lawyerly tricks, and she had a few of her own. Among them, she’d always refer to Martinez as the prosecutor, because it was a word people mixed up with persecutor, which sometimes wasn’t far from the truth. She put on her game face and listened as Martinez continued.

  “I like to keep my opening short and let my witnesses do the talking for me. The evidence of guilt in this case is simply overwhelming, in both hard evidence and supporting circumstantial evidence. Suffice it to say that you will hear testimony that the defendant and his victim, Richie Grusini, had a history of conflict since childhood, when they got into a childhood fight in a middle-school cafeteria, in 2002. But to fast-forward to a year ago, the evidence will show defendant moved to Philadelphia, rented an apartment only a few blocks away from Richie, and began stalking him.”

  Bennie was about to object to the stalking characterization, but let it go. She didn’t want to appear as if she were hiding something.

  “You will hear evidence that one Monday night this past January, Richie was seated at the bar in his favorite restaurant with his best friend, minding his own business, when the defendant interrupted the victim, Mr. Grusini, and picked a fight. An altercation ensued, and the two men were asked to leave the premises. Ladies and gentlemen, you will hear that what happened next is why all of us are here and that, what should have ended with the defendant simply walking away, ended with Richie lying dead in the alley outside the bar with his throat slashed.”

  Bennie watched the jury focus on Martinez, who held their rapt attention.

  “The Commonwealth will prove that Richie left the bar and walked to an alley-like area around the corner, where his car was parked. But still, Richie wasn’t safe from defendant. The evidence will show that defendant pursued Richie into the alley and that there, the defendant murdered him by stabbing him in the throat with a hunting knife, which was found, dripping Richie’s blood, still in the defendant’s hand.”

  Bennie watched as Marathon Mom’s eyes flared in horror. Mouths dropped open in the front row, and Funny Guy exchanged appalled glances with the older Asian juror, sitting next to him.

  “This is a classic case of premeditated and brutal murder. You will hear testimony that the defendant himself told officers at the scene that he was not sorry that Richie was dead, even as that poor young man lay bleeding to death.”

  Bennie kept her expression impassive as she caught Brooklyn Girl frowning behind her big black glasses.

  “You have heard people use the term murder on television and movies, but in Pennsylvania, we use the term criminal homicide, and it is defined as the intentional, knowing, reckless or negligent causing of the death of another human being. Murder in the first degree, which is the charge here, is the most heinous crime known to man. It is defined as criminal homicide when the killing of another human being is intentional, and the evidence will show that that is exactly what happened to the victim in this case, at the hands of the defendant.”

  Martinez gestured at Jason, then continued.

  “The Commonwealth will show you the actual murder weapon that was used, and we will produce additional forensic evidence, as well. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a horrific and indescribable tragedy, and you can be certain that by the time the evidence is closed and the Judge has charged you on the law, that same evidence and that same law will leave you with only one alternative, namely, to look this defendant squarely in the eye, just as he looked Richie in the eye when he cut his throat, and return the only verdict that the facts and the law will allow, namely, a verdict of murder in the first degree. Thank you.” Martinez started back to his seat, and Bennie didn’t wait because she wanted to dispel any mood he’d created by his opening.

  “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, approaching the jury box, where she began to relax, feeling at home. She blocked Declan, Doreen, and the twins from her mind, kept Jason uppermost, and took a moment to make eye contact with the jurors, as calmly as possible. She never tried to wow a jury with an opening, but to plant the seed of a reasonable doubt about the Commonwealth’s case.

  “Thank you for agreeing to serve on this jury. You have a grave responsibility on your hands, the fate of my client, Jason Lefkavick.” Bennie gestured briefly to him. “That’s Jason sitting at counsel table, and as you can see, he’s a young man. And yes, the prosecutor was right about one thing—Jason is wearing a new shirt, because I made him. We’re all trying to look our best in court today, and that is not a crime. In fact I’m wearing a new shirt, for that very reason.” Bennie kept her tone light, but not joking, and knew she’d made her point when she saw Brooklyn Girl smile. “So now that we’ve dispensed with wardrobe snark, let’s get to what’s important.”

  Bennie paused, just to make a break in their concentration.

  “You have just heard the prosecutor tell you what he thinks the evidence will show in this matter, but I’m here to tell you something even more important—what the evidence will not show. This case is about a deadly argument that took place in an alley between two lifelong enemies, Mr. Grusini and my client, Jason, and there are no witnesses to what actually occurred.” Bennie paused, for emphasis. “The prosecutor talked about videocameras, but there is no video that captured what happened in the alley. The prosecutor talked about best friends, but there is no best friend who saw what happened in the alley. I’m asking you to keep an open mind as the testimony goes in and to listen not only to what you are being told, but to what you are not being told.”

  Bennie felt heartened to see Brooklyn Girl nod in a knowing way, and she continued.

  “The most important thing that you are not being told by the prosecutor is who really started the fight that led to Mr. Grusini’s death. The prosecutor said that Mr. Grusini w
as minding his own business and that my client Jason was the aggressor, but in fact, the evidence will show that the opposite was true.” Bennie spoke to them naturally, because it was the only way she knew how to speak to a jury, just like she spoke to everyone else. “The question in this case is not a complex one, and it comes down to, ‘who started it?’ The prosecutor claims that Jason started it, but I think the evidence will show that it was Mr. Grusini who started it. You will be the one to decide that question ultimately, and I have complete confidence that you will do so correctly. After all, ‘who started it’ isn’t a complex legal question, but a matter of common sense. It’s familiar to anybody who’s ever raised a child—or for that matter, to anyone who’s ever been a child.”

  Bennie had improvised this last part for Marathon Mom, who nodded in agreement, and the grandmotherly juror in the front row smiled.

  “The evidence will show that my client, Jason, acted only in self-defense. Self-defense is a justification, which is the right of everyone in our Commonwealth, where, as you will learn, we have a stand-your-ground law that gives every Pennsylvanian the right to stand his ground and defend his own life, whether he is threatened in his home or anywhere in public, like in an alley. You are justified in using deadly force to defend yourself where there is a threat to imminent harm and there is no other means of escape from the situation. The evidence will show that is exactly what happened in this matter.”

  Bennie had no idea how she would make a self-defense case without putting Jason on the stand, but she wasn’t about to promise the jury that they would see him testify. No trial lawyer would ever make a promise in an opening that they couldn’t deliver. Her strategy was to establish self-defense through cross-examination of the Commonwealth witnesses, and her only consolation was that she had no other choice. Still, Bennie sensed that if she looked up Insanely Risky in the dictionary, there would be a picture of her, right now.

  “You have heard the expression that there’s two sides to every story. Well, that’s true. So when the prosecutor has his witnesses up on the stand, he’s telling you his side of the story. I get to tell our side of the story when I cross-examine. Real cross-examination isn’t like on TV. It’s not about being mean to the witnesses or making them cry. It’s about eliciting facts from them that the prosecutor doesn’t want you to know about, but that I do. I’m going to have questions for each witness, which will tell you our side of the story, so I’m going to ask you to listen carefully for when I do that.”