Corrupted Read online

“He appeared to have been drinking and also he was regaining consciousness.”

  Bennie flared her eyes, for show. She would leave aside the inebriation because she had a plan for that later, but she could see the jury react to the revelation that Jason had been unconscious. “Officer Underwood, you had the initial impression that my client had just regained consciousness, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’m not a doctor, so I’m not absolutely sure.”

  “Please answer my question. Did you or did you not have the impression that my client had just regained consciousness?”

  “Yes, I did.” Officer Underwood shifted in his seat. “It seemed like he was out and was just coming to, but I’m not a medical doctor.”

  Bennie didn’t like that the cop was picking up on Martinez’s cue and she knew the jury wouldn’t like it either. “Officer Underwood, didn’t you testify that you coach Little League for your—”

  “Objection, relevance!” Martinez snapped, rising.

  “Your Honor, if the prosecutor will permit me to finish, then I think the relevance will be clear.”

  Judge Patterson nodded. “I’ll overrule the objection. But remember, not too far afield, Ms. Rosato.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Bennie returned to Officer Underwood. “Sir, I would gather that in your capacity as a Little League coach, sometimes you see children get hit in the head with the ball, or collide with each other on base, or even fight, is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And do those children lose and regain consciousness, from time to time?”

  “Yes.”

  “And isn’t it also true that even the parents get into fights in the bleachers, from time to time?”

  “Yes, unfortunately.” Officer Underwood pursed his lips.

  “Of course it is.” Bennie glanced at Marathon Mom, who was listening with obvious interest. “So you have seen an adult regain consciousness, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “So Officer Underwood, when you say that Jason regained consciousness, we have every reason to credit your statement, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Bennie didn’t ask the next question, which was didn’t you assume my client was knocked out by Mr. Grusini, because again, she knew the cop didn’t have personal knowledge of the answer and wasn’t willing to give her the answer she wanted. She’d let the jury draw its own logical conclusion, again; Jason had a bloody bump on his forehead, so he had been punched there, which caused him to lose consciousness. Again, the facts spoke for themselves, even if Jason wouldn’t.

  Bennie glanced at the judge. “Your Honor, I have no further questions.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Rosato. Mr. Martinez?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, I have redirect.” Martinez crossed to the witness box and asked a few more questions, but Bennie didn’t think he repaired the damage that she had done, so she didn’t recross. Martinez would realize that he’d made a mistake by omitting bad facts, which allowed her to score. He wouldn’t make the same mistake from now on. In fact, he was edgy and already on his feet.

  “Your Honor, the Commonwealth is ready with its second witness.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Bennie picked up her pen, as Paul Stokowski was sworn in. She wasn’t exactly sure of what he would say, since he had refused their interview requests, but he looked the way she’d expected him to look. His eyes were blue, round, and set close together; he had a long nose on a longish face, and his chin came to a point. He was tall and wore his sandy-brown hair parted down the middle, so that his bangs flopped up on both sides, a hairdo that gave him an incongruous beachy vibe in a city not known for its surf. He was fully six feet, with muscled biceps under a short-sleeve blue shirt, which he had on with khaki pants, a wardrobe choice that made him look like everybody’s bro. The only note of the bad boy was a neck tattoo, but it was on his left side, which faced away from the jury.

  Bennie guessed that Martinez had reshuffled his witness order, responding quickly to what had happened this morning. The conventional order of witnesses for the Commonwealth would’ve been arresting officer, medical examiner, detective, then fact witnesses like Stokowski and whoever else. But Martinez was evidently responding to her who-started-it argument, skipping law enforcement and going straight to Stokowski. It was good and bad news because it showed that Martinez was sure-footed enough to counter her argument, but it also meant that he probably hadn’t had the time to prepare Stokowski, because witnesses weren’t usually prepared until the night before they took the stand.

  Martinez approached the witness box. “Mr. Stokowski, how long have you been friends with the victim?”

  “Five years. We worked together at Ackermann Construction in East Falls. We’ve worked the same framing team all this time. We’re both master carpenters. We do a lot of molding and sills, like that.” Stokowski faced the jury when he spoke, and if he was nervous, it didn’t show.

  “Is this new construction or renovations?”

  “Both. These days, mostly renovations. Lot of people like a new kitchen.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, would you say you and Mr. Grusini were best friends?”

  “Absolutely.” Stokowski smiled briefly, showing nice teeth. “He was my best man at my wedding.”

  “Please accept my condolences on your loss.”

  “Thank you.” Stokowski’s smile vanished, his face folding into lines of genuine grief.

  Bennie slid her gaze to the jury, seeing that it’d hit home. They looked sympathetic for his loss and they liked him. Plus, sexism aside, most women could relate to getting a new kitchen, and most men to being a master carpenter.

  “Mr. Stokowski, did you and Mr. Grusini often go to Eddie’s bar?”

  “Yes.”

  “How often would you say?”

  “Once a week, either Friday night or in winter, to watch Monday Night Football. That’s when I’m allowed out. We have two boys, so my wife needs a break. Sorry, honey.” Stokowski smiled again, leaning over to catch the eye of someone in the gallery, presumably his wife.

  The jurors smiled and looked back at the gallery.

  Martinez paused. “Mr. Stokowski, have you ever heard Mr. Grusini talk about the defendant?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you were aware that he had a prior relationship to the defendant?”

  “Yes.”

  Bennie perked up, ready for a hearsay objection.

  Martinez asked, “Mr. Stokowski, if you know, what was the nature of that relationship?”

  Bennie rose, but didn’t object because she didn’t want to look bad to the jury, which was one of the reasons she’d drafted the stipulation about prior bad acts. “Your Honor, the prosecutor may want to save the Court’s time at this point, by reading the stipulation for the record, or paraphrasing it, if he wishes.”

  Judge Patterson nodded. “Thank you, counsel. Mr. Martinez, that may be the best way to proceed, don’t you agree?”

  “Fine.” Martinez turned to the witness. “Mr. Stokowski, did he mention to you that he and the defendant were both victims of the Kids-for-Cash scandal in Luzerne County?”

  “Yes, he used to talk about that a lot.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, had you heard about the Kids-for-Cash scandal, prior to his telling you about it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you explain the Kids-for-Cash scandal to the jury, generally?”

  “Yes.” Stokowski turned to the jury. “If you haven’t heard about it, the Kids-for-Cash scandal was where a judge in Luzerne County sent kids to juvie halls for almost nothing, because the judges were crooked.”

  Some of the jurors nodded in a knowing way, and others frowned, hearing it for the first time. Bennie let it go. It was an informal way for the information to come in, but it was as good as any. She wanted the focus off the past and on the present, for Jason’s benefit. If it came off that he’d been resentful since Kids-for-Cash, it would reinforce his motive to k
ill Richie.

  “Mr. Stokowski, did Mr. Grusini mention to you that his initial incarceration, which began at only age twelve, was because he got into a fight in the middle-school cafeteria with the defendant, Jason Lefkavick?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And as best you knew, Richie spent a lot of his childhood and young adulthood in juvenile incarceration, wrongly imprisoned because of this corrupt scheme, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Bennie let that go, too. It was sweeping under the rug any kind of wrongdoing that Richie was truly responsible for, but her eye was on the prize, which was an acquittal for Jason.

  “Mr. Stokowski, what was Mr. Grusini’s view of the defendant?”

  “He didn’t like him.”

  Bennie had been about to object, but was glad she hadn’t. It was undoubtedly the truth, but a better answer for the Commonwealth would have been that Richie was indifferent to Jason. As it was, the answer helped the self-defense argument, but Stokowski had been out of the courtroom during openings and wouldn’t know the defense theory of the case. And if Martinez hadn’t reshuffled his witness list, he would have had more time to prepare Stokowski for all possibilities.

  “Mr. Stokowski, was Mr. Grusini afraid of the defendant?”

  “No way. Richie thought he was a joke.”

  Bennie thought it was an even better answer, for the defense. Jason shifted beside her, but didn’t otherwise react to the testimony.

  “Mr. Stokowski, what … do you mean by that?”

  “When Richie talked about the defendant, he always called him ‘Chunky,’ like that chocolate candy. He was a fat kid. I guess he lost the weight now, but Richie wasn’t afraid of him.” Stokowski hesitated. “Maybe he should have been, the way things turned out. Richie wasn’t the type to be afraid of anybody, he can handle himself.”

  Bennie wrote on the left side of her pad, could handle himself.

  “Mr. Stokowski, let’s fast-forward to the night in question. You and Mr. Grusini went to Eddie’s and sat at the bar, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who sat on the left and who was on the right?”

  “He was on the left and I was on the right.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, what time did you two arrive?”

  “Around seven fifteen. We drove in separate cars, though.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, what did you do when you sat down?”

  “You know, ate and drank, watched the pregame.”

  “How much did you personally eat and drink?”

  “I had a cheeseburger and two beers. That’s my limit when I drive.” Stokowski spoke directly to the jury, who collectively nodded in approval.

  “How about Mr. Grusini, how much did he drink?”

  “He drank a little more, maybe a beer ahead of me, but he could hold his liquor.”

  Bennie wrote on her notepad, could hold his liquor.

  “Mr. Stokowski, when you entered the bar, did you realize that the defendant was also in the bar, seated in the eating area?”

  “No.”

  “Did Mr. Grusini realize that, if you know?”

  “No, not to my knowledge.”

  “Did you or Mr. Grusini know that the defendant was even in Philadelphia, to your knowledge?”

  Bennie could’ve objected, but let it go.

  “No,” Stokowski answered.

  “Okay, so Mr. Stokowski, what happened on the night of the murder, at the bar, between the defendant and Mr. Grusini?”

  “We were sitting at the bar, watching the game. I remember because the Eagles were ahead and that doesn’t happen nearly enough.” Stokowski managed a smile, and a few of the jurors nodded, commiserating. “Then all of a sudden, I looked over and there’s this dude standing there between me and Richie, right behind us.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, do you see that person in the courtroom and will you identify him?”

  “Yes, the defendant.” Stokowski pointed.

  “Okay, then what happened?”

  “So I didn’t know who the dude was, or the defendant, sorry, and all of a sudden he was tapping Richie on the shoulder and saying something.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, what did he say to Richie, if you know?”

  “I do know, I heard it. He said, ‘Remember me?’ Then he said, ‘Do you know what today is, you sick piece of shit?’” Stokowski looked from the jury to Martinez. “It’s okay to curse, right? That’s exactly what he said.”

  “Yes, with apologies for the profanity, we need to know exactly what he said.”

  “That’s it.”

  Martinez nodded. “So then what happened, Mr. Stokowski?”

  “So then Richie kind of pushed him.”

  “Now, before this took place, did Mr. Grusini do or say anything to the defendant?”

  “No, like I say, our back was to the eating area. We didn’t even know he was there.”

  Bennie didn’t object because the question had been asked and answered, but she would if it went to one more question. She noticed a juror in the front row taking notes. Martinez was hammering home his Richie-was-minding-his-own-business point to show that Jason was the one who started it, in response to her opening. But the bar wasn’t where it mattered. The alley was.

  “Mr. Stokowski, before Mr. Grusini pushed the defendant, did he say anything to him?”

  “Yes. He said, ‘Get the eff out of my face, Chunk.’”

  “Mr. Stokowski, in your opinion, was the defendant ‘in his face’?” Martinez made air quotes.

  “Most definitely. Richie pushed him away, and the defendant must’ve been drunk because he fell off-balance.”

  “Objection,” Bennie said, because of the assumption about the drunkenness. She had bigger plans for that, later.

  “Sustained,” Judge Patterson ruled. “Jurors, you are to disregard the conclusion that the defendant was drunk.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Martinez returned his attention to the witness stand. “Mr. Stokowski, when Mr. Grusini pushed the defendant, did he push him hard?”

  “No, not really, but Richie was a bigger guy than him, so he fell over. When the defendant fell, he kind of kicked up at Richie, and Richie grabbed his leg, then all hell broke loose. The people at the bar jumped up, and the bartender stopped the fight, then he threw out Richie and the defendant.”

  Martinez paused. “Mr. Stokowski, how did the defendant react to being thrown out, from what you saw?”

  “When the bartender picked up his arm, the defendant kind of pulled away in a very angry way, I guess that’s what you would say.”

  “So he appeared very angry, to the best of your knowledge?”

  Bennie let it go, knowing they were picking their words carefully.

  “Yes, he was angry,” Stokowski answered.

  “Mr. Stokowski, what happened with Mr. Grusini, then?”

  “The bartender asked him to go, too, and so we both left.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, what happened when you and the victim left the bar?”

  “We said good-bye, we split up. I got a great parking space right in front, so I just got in my car and drove home.” Stokowski ran his tongue over dry lips. “I feel bad about that now. I feel like I shoulda walked Richie to his car. He always parks, he always parked, in that alley on Dunbar Street. It was his secret spot, I think it went with the medical supply company. But I think about that a lot. What if I walked him to his car?”

  “I understand,” Martinez said gently.

  Bennie could see that it had an effect on the jurors, but there was nothing she could do. She’d tried enough murder cases to know that she always felt lousy while the Commonwealth was putting on its case. The loss of life and the ripple effects of lethal violence were undeniably heartbreaking.

  “Mr. Stokowski, when you left the bar, did you see the defendant at all?”

  “No, just Richie.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, what was the victim doing when you saw him last?”

  “He was walkin
g down Pimlico Street toward Dunbar Street.”

  Martinez paused. “Mr. Stokowski, is that the last you ever saw of your best friend?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have no further questions, Your Honor,” Martinez said, but Bennie was already on her feet, crossing to the witness box.

  “Mr. Stokowski, I have a few questions for you.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  “Mr. Stokowski, during this altercation in Eddie’s bar, did you see Mr. Grusini land any punches to Jason’s forehead?”

  Paul Stokowski squared his shoulders, and his blue eyes regarded Bennie with a chill, expected in the circumstances. “No.”

  “What about elsewhere, did Mr. Grusini land any punches elsewhere?”

  “No. It was more grappling, they were grappling.”

  “Conversely, Mr. Stokowski, did you see Jason land any punches on Mr. Grusini?”

  “No, I don’t think he threw a punch. He was more grappling back.”

  “Did anybody’s clothes get torn, Mr. Stokowski?”

  “No, not that I saw. The fight got broken up really fast, nipped in the bud.”

  “Mr. Stokowski, was there any further conversation between the two men?”

  “No, just kind of grunting and cursing, but that’s it.”

  “Any name-calling, Mr. Stokowski?”

  “No.”

  Bennie thought back to what the waitress, Emily, had told her during their interview, about Richie’s conduct when he drank. “Mr. Stokowski, to the best of your knowledge, did Mr. Grusini ever get into a bar fight, before the one in question?”

  “Objection, relevance!” Martinez shot to his feet. “Your Honor, I don’t see the relevance of the question.”

  Bennie faced Judge Patterson. “Your Honor, it has obvious relevance to the defense theory, which was explained in opening argument. I’d rather not describe it in full, since the witness did not hear the opening, but I’d be happy to approach the bench and explain.”

  Judge Patterson waved her off. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll allow it, but don’t make me sorry I did.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Bennie faced the witness. “Mr. Stokowski, you testified that you have known Mr. Grusini for five years. Have you seen him get into a physical altercation in a bar before the one in question?”