Corrupted Read online

  “Yes.”

  “So that means you have interviewed many, many accused people, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes,” Detective Gallagher answered slowly, and Bennie could tell that he didn’t know where she was going, but then again, neither did she.

  “Detective Gallagher, when you’re interviewing an accused person, how long does it usually take you to get the facts about a murder?”

  “It varies.”

  “How often does it take only ten minutes?”

  Detective Gallagher hesitated.

  “I withdraw the question,” Bennie said impulsively, then realized it was a pretty good move. “Detective Gallagher, during your interview of Jason, did you find out that he and Mr. Grusini had fought before, as far back as middle school?”

  Martinez looked like he was about to object, but Bennie’s stipulation covered these facts. She hadn’t planned it that way, but it was a lucky break.

  “No,” Detective Gallagher answered.

  “Detective Gallagher, during your interview, did you find out that Jason and Mr. Grusini had been enemies since they were twelve years old?”

  “No.”

  “During your interview, did you find out that Jason and Mr. Grusini were both victims of the Kids-for-Cash scandal in Luzerne County?”

  “I found that out later, but not during the interview.”

  “So your answer is no, isn’t it?”

  “Correct. My answer is no.”

  “Detective Gallagher, did you learn why the date in question was a special day to my client, Jason?”

  “No.”

  Bennie checked the jury, and their arched eyebrows told her she’d made her point. “Obviously, Detective Gallagher, there’s many facts you didn’t learn during your ten-minute interview, isn’t that right?”

  “Not facts that are relevant.”

  Bennie snapped, “The fact that my client Jason and Mr. Grusini were lifelong enemies wasn’t relevant?”

  “Okay, that is.”

  “I have no further questions of this witness.”

  Judge Patterson turned to Martinez. “Mr. Prosecutor?”

  “No further questions,” Martinez answered.

  Bennie went to her seat, catching Lou’s eye.

  He winked.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  The next Commonwealth witness took the stand, and the men in the jury came to attention. It was Renée Zimmer, and Bennie knew her name from one of the license plates that Lou had investigated after their carb-laden stakeout. Zimmer was undeniably foxy, with long blonde hair, large green eyes, an upturned nose, a glossy pink mouth, and a curvy body shown to excellent advantage in a tight black cotton dress with a light black sweater. Bennie wondered what the possible relevance of Zimmer’s testimony could be, since she wasn’t at the bar the night of the murder.

  Martinez flashed the witness a toothy smile. “Good morning, Ms. Zimmer,” he began, his tone perceptibly warmer.

  “Good morning,” Renée answered, with a distinctive South Philly accent, so that it came out like, Guh Morning.

  “Ms. Zimmer, thank you for coming today to court. I know this must be very difficult for you.”

  “I would do anything for Richie, and it’s important for me to be here, to see that he gets justice.”

  Bennie noticed Computer Programmer Guy nodding and she bet that Cupid’s arrow had already struck his coded heart.

  “Ms. Zimmer, what was your relationship to the victim in this case, Richie Grusini?”

  “Richie was my boyfriend.”

  “Ms. Zimmer, how long were you dating for?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “And Ms. Zimmer, had you discussed marriage?”

  Bennie thought about objecting because Martinez was going for the sympathy vote, but decided to let it go or the jury would think she was heartless. Nevertheless she shifted noisily in her seat, letting Martinez know that she was ready to object, like a base runner about to steal.

  “Yes, we had.” Zimmer blinked a few times, and Bennie was worried the witness was going to cry, so she half-rose.

  “Your Honor, objection as to relevance, as Ms. Zimmer wasn’t in the bar on the night in question.”

  Martinez turned to Judge Patterson. “Your Honor, as with Ms. Rosato, if I ask a question or two, I think the relevance will become clear.”

  “Fair enough, proceed,” Judge Patterson ruled, and Martinez turned back to the witness.

  “Ms. Zimmer, as you have heard, it is true that you were not with the victim on the night in question, were you?”

  “No.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I was at home in my apartment in Bella Vista.”

  “Ms. Zimmer, were you expecting to see the victim on the night he was murdered?”

  “Yes, I was.” Zimmer swallowed hard, and Brooklyn Girl pushed up her heavy black glasses, her lower lip puckering.

  “Ms. Zimmer, how did those plans come to pass?”

  “Well, if Richie was free, he would usually come over. That was the way it usually worked.”

  “Had you made plans earlier that day?”

  “No.”

  “Ms. Zimmer, when did you make the plans for the evening in question?”

  “That night, he called me around seven o’clock and said he wanted to come over, so I said great. I know the time because Seinfeld was coming on.”

  Bennie still didn’t see the relevance, but she held her tongue.

  “Ms. Zimmer, did you speak with him again that night, on the phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ms. Zimmer, when was the next time you spoke with him?”

  “A little after eleven o’clock, he said he was leaving the bar. It musta been jus’ before, you know, he was killed.” Zimmer’s eyes filmed, and she kept her face tilted pointedly away from Jason.

  “And how long did the call last?”

  “A few minutes.”

  Bennie realized where Martinez was going, at the same time she realized that she had nothing to counteract the testimony.

  “Ms. Zimmer, without telling me the substance of your conversation”—Martinez glanced over at Bennie, tacitly referring to her prior hearsay objection—“how would you characterize Richie’s state of mind?”

  “Happy and upbeat.”

  “Happy and upbeat?” Martinez repeated, needlessly.

  “Yes. In a good mood.”

  “Ms. Zimmer, would you characterize his state of mind as angry, in any way, shape, or form?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Did Mr. Grusini tell you he’d been in a fight in the bar?”

  “No.”

  “I’ve no further questions. Thank you so much, Ms. Zimmer.” Martinez stepped away, and Judge Patterson nodded at Bennie.

  “Ms. Rosato?”

  Bennie felt the jurors swing their heads toward her, and she rose, unsure what to do. If she let Zimmer’s testimony stand, it would damage the self-defense claim; obviously, the implication was that Richie wasn’t in a state of mind to attack Jason. Martinez had been shrewd to put Zimmer up now, reinforcing Detective Gallagher’s suggestion that the self-defense claim was aftermarket, which it was.

  “I have a question or two, Your Honor.” Bennie crossed to the witness stand, getting an idea. “Ms. Zimmer, it sounds like you and Richie were very happy together.”

  “We were.”

  “And if you intended to marry him, then you obviously considered him what I like to call ‘husband material.’”

  Zimmer smiled, her eyes still glistening. “Oh yes, totally.”

  “Ms. Zimmer, what were you looking for in a husband?”

  Martinez opened his mouth as if he were going to object, but didn’t.

  “Somebody who was a good guy. And a fun guy. Richie was the life of the party, you know, but he would also be a good father and could take care of me and his family.”

  Bennie noticed the grandmotherly juror in the front row soften, but she press
ed ahead. “So Ms. Zimmer, you considered that Richie would be the kind of guy who would take care of you, is that right?”

  “Yes, totally.” Zimmer nodded happily, and Bennie felt almost bad leading her, but not bad enough to stop.

  “Would you also consider Richie the kind of guy who could protect you?”

  “Yes, totally.”

  Martinez rose, frowning. “Objection, relevance, Your Honor.”

  Bennie faced Judge Patterson. “Your Honor, the prosecutor explored the relationship, so he opened the door.”

  “Fine, proceed, but make it fast.”

  Bennie returned her attention to the witness. “Ms. Zimmer, you were saying, Mr. Grusini was the kind of guy who would protect you.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Ms. Zimmer, would Mr. Grusini protect you by not telling you something that might upset you?”

  “Totally, he didn’t like to see me upset.”

  Bennie thought she had mitigated the damage. She would love to ask Zimmer if Richie carried a knife, but she didn’t know what answer she’d get and that was outside the scope of direct examination, which Martinez had intentionally kept narrow. “Thank you. Your Honor, I have no further questions.”

  Judge Patterson swiveled around, facing Martinez. “Mr. Martinez, redirect, if you have any.”

  “I do, Your Honor,” Martinez answered.

  Bennie sat down, relieved.

  Until she spotted Karen passing Kleenex to a teary Doreen.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Bennie got her bearings while Martinez called Dr. Jessica Chien, one of the city’s assistant medical examiners. She was a slim Asian woman in her forties with a short, severe haircut and steel-rimmed glasses, which together with her grim grayish suit gave her a clinical demeanor. She sat so upright in the witness stand that she could have been balancing on her tailbone and she linked her fingers in front of her, in the most formal way. She wore no wedding band or any jewelry except for seed pearls in her earlobes.

  Martinez made quick work of having the witness sworn in, taking her through her resume, qualifying her as an expert, identifying her as the person who performed Richie’s autopsy, and moving into evidence a copy of her autopsy report, which Bennie had seen. Martinez took her through the preliminary questions about Ritchie’s autopsy and elicited that she had found nothing remarkable during the internal examination. Then he fetched a photograph from counsel table, went to Judge Patterson with a copy, and brought a copy to Bennie.

  Bennie glanced at the photograph, but didn’t let her horror show in her expression. Richie’s body lay on its back, crumpled in the dark alley, in a pool of bright light cast by the coroner’s massive klieglights. His fixed stare faced heavenward, and his legs lay crumpled under him, bent at the knees, askew, a position that would’ve been completely unnatural in anyone living. His torso was raised slightly, which caused his head to fall back and opened the gruesome wound on the left side of his neck, a deep gaping hole. Blood glistened from the awful wound, soaked his jacket and the front of his shirt, and pooled around him on the filthy floor of the alley.

  Martinez stood in front of the dais. “Your Honor, I’d like to move into evidence as Commonwealth Exhibit 28, a photograph taken at the crime scene.”

  “Objection.” Bennie rose, knowing she’d lose. “Your Honor, this photograph should not be admitted because its probative value does not outweigh how prejudicial it is. The defense is willing to stipulate to the cause and manner of death in this matter, and the only purpose of these photographs is to inflame the jury’s sympathy.”

  Martinez stiffened. “Your Honor, this photograph has obvious relevance, and the Commonwealth has done everything in its power to minimize any prejudice. There were other photos I could’ve shown that were considerably more inflammatory, and I have chosen only this one photo, so there is no repetition of evidence.”

  “Ms. Rosato, your objection is overruled.” Judge Patterson set her copy of the photograph aside, her expression grave. “The photograph is admissible.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Martinez retrieved a mounted copy of the photograph from his desk, brought it over to the jury, and handed it to Computer Guy, who sat at the leftmost chair in the jury, nearest to the gallery.

  Suddenly Doreen emitted a heartbreaking sob, and Bennie looked over to see her burying herself in Declan’s embrace, next to Karen. Declan comforted her and tried to get her back in control. Every head in the jury box turned to them, and Judge Patterson was about to speak when Doreen quieted.

  Martinez stood at the jury box. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I know this is difficult, but I’m asking each of you to take a look at that photograph and pass it to the juror sitting beside you. Please take as long as you like, and we will wait until all of you have seen the exhibit before I resume questioning.”

  Bennie watched as Computer Guy’s unibrow flew upward and he passed the exhibit quickly to Brooklyn Girl, whose hand went to her mouth. Each juror had some variation of a horrified reaction, and the slow and deliberate passing of the photograph took on the ceremonial air of a funeral, which Bennie was powerless to dissipate. The grandmotherly juror stared worriedly at Doreen.

  The exhibit reached the last juror, then Martinez took it to counsel table, turned it facedown, then returned to the witness box. “Dr. Chien, you have before you Commonwealth Exhibit 28, which is a photograph of the victim taken at the crime scene. Does this accurately reflect the wound that you found when you examined the victim’s body?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Excuse me, I should have asked you this earlier. Were you actually on the scene that night, Dr. Chien?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “And did you pronounce the victim dead in this case?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Dr. Chien, what was the cause of the victim’s death?”

  “The victim died as a result of a knife wound to the neck, on the left side as you see here.”

  “Could you show us on the photograph?”

  Bennie rose. “Objection, Your Honor, the photograph is the most prejudicial way to conduct this direct examination. If the prosecutor wants to take the witness through cause and manner of death, he could do that in a much less inflammatory manner by using the standard diagram contained in the autopsy report.”

  Martinez faced the judge. “Your Honor, the photograph is properly in evidence and the Commonwealth is entitled to examine the witness any way it sees fit.”

  Bennie shook her head. “I beg to differ, Your Honor. The analysis under the evidence rules requires an ongoing weighing of the probative value and the prejudicial nature of the exhibit. It’s one thing to admit it, but it’s another thing to make us look at it in detail for the next twenty minutes.”

  Judge Patterson paused, pursing her lips. “Mr. Martinez, I’m going to have to agree with Ms. Rosato. The jury may have the photograph and take it with them into the jury room, but questions of a technical nature would be much more appropriate using the autopsy report.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Bennie sat down, relieved. Even she didn’t want to look at the photograph any longer, and she noticed that Jason hadn’t let his eyes stray toward it, at all.

  Martinez went back to counsel table, shuffled through his papers, and produced an enlarged copy of the diagram that was part of every autopsy report; a black-and-white outline of a male body. It was entered into evidence, then Martinez placed the diagram on the overhead projector, and after some doing, it showed on a white screen. Jurors shifted forward in their seats, eyeing the diagram.

  Martinez turned to the witness. “Dr. Chien, could you explain to the jury in layman’s terms what this is?”

  “It’s a diagram of the victim’s body, on which I have made notations of matters that I observed during autopsy.”

  “Dr. Chien, is that standard procedure in the medical examiner’s office?”

  “Yes. This is, for want of a better word, I would say a form that
we use in the medical examiner’s office, for each autopsy performed.” Dr. Chien pointed to a pen mark made on the left side of the diagram’s neck. “I made this mark, per our procedure, which shows the location of the wound that caused the victim’s death.”

  “Dr. Chien, what was the cause of the victim’s death in this case?”

  “The victim died as a result of a knife wound to the neck, which caused exsanguination.”

  “Did you find more than one stab wound during the autopsy?”

  “No, this was the only stab wound.”

  “Dr. Chien, is it unusual for a single stab wound to be lethal?”

  “It depends on where the stab wound occurs. Generally, stab wounds to the neck area tend to be lethal because the neck is so dense.” Dr. Chien raised a delicate hand, touching her own Adam’s apple. “Interestingly, a wound to the front of the neck is survivable because this is simply cartilaginous trachea.”

  “Dr. Chien, could you explain what you mean, in layman’s terms?”

  “The point I’m making is one can survive a knife wound to the front of the neck.” Dr. Chien turned to the jury again. “You can try this yourself. If you rub your finger up and down on your throat, like this on your windpipe, you can actually feel the rings of your trachea. There are thyroid vessels there in front, and when they perform a tracheotomy, they go for the midline and avoid vessels.”

  Martinez blinked as the jury started running its fingers up and down its neck, and Bennie sensed that this wasn’t the turn he’d hoped his direct examination would take.

  Martinez cleared his throat. “Dr. Chien, you were saying that stab wounds in the neck area tend to be lethal. Why is that?”

  “Lethal injuries to the neck are produced on either side of the so-called Adam’s apple, on the left or the right. They’re lethal on the sides because that is the location of the branches of the common carotid artery, which is a major arterial vessel.” Dr. Chien moved her finger across her throat, which was slim and lovely, so the effect was inadvertently chilling, and Bennie felt Jason shift beside her in his chair.

  “Dr. Chien, would you remind us what is the difference between an artery and a vein?”