‘And what did Mrs Keller tell you?’
‘What she told us,’ Monk responded, ‘was that she’d been taking out the trash to the garbage chute the night before she left. When she passed Mr Arias’s apartment, she thought she heard voices coming from his apartment. Two men, and then a thud. Like someone hitting the floor.’
Caroline rose at once. ‘Your Honor, Inspector Monk is entitled to a certain leeway in describing the course of his inquiry. But we’re in danger of getting a lot of undocumented information, a lot of it secondhand, and plainly hearsay. I move that the answer be stricken and that Inspector Monk be admonished to stick to matters about which he can claim personal knowledge.’
‘He is,’ Salinas retorted at once. ‘I am not asking him to testify for Mrs Keller, who will be with us shortly, but to describe the evidence he gathered. Subject to proof, we are entitled to lay out his investigative processes.’ Here he turned to Caroline. ‘Particularly if, as we suspect, Ms Masters intends to suggest that the police or prosecutor are somehow biased against Mr Paget.’
Salinas, Paget thought, was like a computer. There was no defense he did not anticipate, no testimony he was not armed to justify. ‘Motion denied,’ Lerner said promptly. ‘The prosecution may continue.’
‘Thank you, Your Honor.’ Quickly, Salinas turned to Monk. ‘What else did Mrs Keller tell you?’
‘That she went to her door and opened it a crack.’
‘What, if anything, did she report seeing?’
‘A tall blond-haired man, in a light-gray suit leaving Mr Arias’s apartment. She saw his face, she said, because he stopped for a minute to look at his hand and then at something on the sleeve of his coat.’
‘Did she describe this man?’
‘Yes.’ Monk folded his hands. ‘About six feet, six one, with blondish hair, a strong jaw, and a slight ridge on his nose.’
Paget felt the jury turn to him, matching the description with his face. Joseph Duarte seemed to squint; next to him, Marian Celler put on her glasses.
‘And did you then show her a photograph?’
‘Yes.’ Monk paused a moment. ‘Of Mr Paget.’
‘What, if anything, did Mrs Keller say?’
‘That this was the man she had seen in the hallway.’
Paget found that he could not watch the jury.
‘And what did you do next?’ Salinas asked in a calm voice.
‘Detective Lynch and I obtained a warrant to search Mr Paget’s house and impound his car.’
‘And what evidence did you find?’
Monk removed his glasses, wiping them on the silk handkerchief before he casually stuffed it back into the breast pocket of his suit. ‘Mr Arias’s landlord,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘had installed new carpeting just before he moved in. All carpets leave fibers on the shoes of anyone who walks on them, and new carpeting leaves many more fibers.’ He put his glasses back on. ‘According to the crime lab, there were fibers from Mr Arias’s carpet on the Persian rug in Mr Paget’s entryway, the runner up his central stairs, and the Chinese carpet in his bedroom.’
Salinas raised his eyebrows at this inventory of wealth. ‘What about in the carpet of Mr Paget’s Jaguar convertible?’
Monk peered through his glasses. ‘More fibers,’ he said evenly. ‘On the driver’s side.’
In the jury box, Duarte wrote this down, scowling at his notepad. Now Salinas looked almost eager. ‘Did you then take Mr Paget’s fingerprints?’
‘Yes.’
Paget could feel the stale air of the courtroom, hot and close. Salina half turned to the jury. ‘And did you attempt to match the print with prints found in Mr Arias’s apartment?’
‘Yes.’ Once more, Monk faced Paget; this time, his eyes did not move. ‘Mr Paget had left a full right-hand print, four fingers and a thumb, on Mr Arias’s answering machine. The one that someone had switched off.’
There was utter silence. ‘Perhaps,’ Salinas said softly, ‘we should play the tape of your second interview with Mr Paget.’
For Paget, the next few minutes were a kind of death.
As if in slow motion, Monk identified the tape and began answering Salinas’s staccato questions in a monotone. Paget had not before mentioned the charges against Carlo, Monk said, or even the Inquisitor article. Paget had said that he might still be running for the Senate. Paget had acknowledged, at last, his hatred for Ricardo Arias.
And then Monk switched on the tape.
Listening, Paget could remember his tautness as he answered Monk’s questions. That he had never spoken to Ricardo Arias. That he had never even seen Ricardo Arias. That he had never been to Ricardo Arias’s apartment. And that on the night before leaving for Italy, he had been at home alone.
His voice on the tape surprised him – cool, well-bred, a little bored. For Paget, and for the jury, it seemed to change everything.
The jury leaned forward, looking from the tape to Paget’s face. Except perhaps on television, none had ever heard him speak: these words were to be the last they would ever hear from him. To Paget, his answers – terse and measured – sounded like lies.
‘In short,’ Salinas finished crisply, ‘Mr Paget had denied ever meeting with Mr Arias, is that right? Let alone going to his apartment.’
‘That’s right.’ Monk turned to Paget. ‘For a while after that, I even believed him. Until we did our job.’
Cross-examination started after the lunch break. Caroline spent most of that time on the telephone; she did not say with whom.
Her opening question was quiet, almost muted. ‘You mentioned, Inspector Monk, that you’d tried to trace the Smith and Wesson revolver to Mr Arias. Did you also try tracing it to Mr Paget?’
Monk nodded. ‘We did.’
‘Could you describe for us all the steps you undertook to establish ownership of the revolver?’
‘Sure.’ Monk sat back. ‘First, we checked the usual sources – gun dealers, records of sale, all the paperwork they’ve required for the last twenty years. There was nothing.
‘So we worked backward. The Smith and Wesson factory in Connecticut had a record, by serial number, of every thirty-two-caliber Second Model they shipped. This one was shipped to Shreve’s department store in San Francisco sometime in October 1906.’ Monk’s voice took on an ironic undertone. ‘Department stores used to sell guns over the counter, just like perfume or slippers. But no one kept records then. Once Shreve’s sold this gun to the first owner it vanished for almost ninety years. Until we found it next to Mr Arias’s body.’
‘Did you take other specific steps to tie this gun to Mr Paget?’
‘Yes.’
‘Including question his housekeeper and his son?’
‘Yes.’
‘And showing Mr Paget’s photograph to gun dealers in the city?’
‘Yes.’
‘In fact, did you find a single piece of evidence connecting Mr Paget with this or any gun?’
Monk folded his hands. ‘We found no evidence that Mr Paget has ever owned a gun.’
Caroline looked bemused. ‘Instead you simply assumed that – out of all the guns available as a murder weapon – Mr Paget selected an eighty-six-year-old revolver, so unreliable that it misfired.’
Monk shrugged. ‘Maybe he wanted to save money,’ he said dryly.
‘Isn’t there another problem, Inspector? The bullets?’
Monk’s eyes narrowed. ‘That they’re old, you mean.’
‘Specifically, that they’re Winchester silver tips, which haven’t been manufactured for a thirty-two-caliber weapon in roughly twenty years, true?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And, in fact, these bullets were rusty.’
‘Also correct.’
‘So Mr Paget would have had to buy an antique revolver and rusty bullets. Does that seem likely to you?’
‘Objection,’ Salinas put in. ‘Calls for speculation. How can Inspector Monk be expected to know the defendant’s mental processes?’
Caroline turned on him. ‘We’re talking about Inspector Monk’s investigative processes, Victor, just as you predicted on direct. I’m just helping you flesh them out a little.’
Judge Lerner looked from Caroline to Salinas. ‘Which cliché would you like, Victor? How about, ‘Sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander?’ He addressed Caroline. ‘You may continue, Ms Masters.’
She nodded to Monk. ‘I’m not able to tell you,’ he answered, ‘what kind of gun Mr Paget might have considered an appropriate suicide weapon for Mr Arias.’
It was a shrewd rejoinder, Paget thought. But Caroline did not hesitate. ‘Or bullets? Isn’t it true that the bullets showed signs of having been kept in a damp place for a long period of time?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you have any theory as to why Mr Paget would buy wet ammunition?’
Monk shook his head slowly. ‘No, I don’t.’
Caroline paused. ‘Can you tell me what kind of noise this gun would make? When it fires, that is.’
‘Sort of a pop.’
‘Fairly loud?’
‘Fairly. Yes.’
Caroline raised her eyebrows. ‘By the way, Inspector, did you happen to check this venerable murder weapon for Mr Paget’s fingerprints?’
Monk’s eyes widened in what might have been amusement. ‘Yes, Counselor. We didn’t find Mr Paget’s prints. Or Mr Arias’s.’ He paused. ‘It’s common not to find usable prints on relatively small metal surfaces. Like a gun.’
Caroline smiled. ‘Just checking. In the course of your inquiry, Inspector, did you find any evidence of any kind that Mr Paget had displayed any inclination toward violence?’
‘No.’
Caroline nodded briskly. ‘Then let’s move on. When you searched Mr Paget’s home, you were looking for more than rug fibers, correct?’
Monk crossed his arms. ‘We were looking for evidence. Period.’
‘Isn’t it true that you searched Mr Paget’s closet? For clothing with blood spatters or gunshot residue?’
‘Among other things.’
‘Come up with anything?’
‘No.’
‘Really?’ Caroline paused. ‘How about rug fibers on Mr Paget’s shoes?’
Monk was quiet for a moment. ‘No.’
Caroline put one finger to her lips, as if the truth were dawning. ‘So let’s summarize your evidence against Mr Paget. After all that effort, it comes down to rug fibers in his house and car, an eyewitness who saw a tall blond man, and prints on Mr Arias’s machine. Right?’
Monk gave her a pointed stare. ‘He also had a powerful motive.’
One corner of Caroline’s mouth flickered. ‘To dislike Mr Arias, surely. But so did Ms Peralta, correct?’
‘I would say so.’
‘Did you consider Ms Peralta as a potential suspect?’
‘For a time, yes.’
‘And did you also search Ms Peralta’s home?’
‘Yes.’
Caroline took a step toward Monk. ‘And found rug fibers there? The same kind as you’d found at Mr Paget’s?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you didn’t pick Mr Paget over Ms Peralta because of rug fibers.’
‘No.’
‘And in fact, you did remove a suit from Ms Peralta’s closet, right? Because it had a strain on the front.’
‘Yes.’
‘And what did the stain turn out to be?’
‘Ketchup.’ A small smile. ‘Seems like Ms Peralta was guilty of eating at McDonald’s.’
‘Oh, well.’ Caroline cocked her head. ‘So at that point, your case as to Mr Paget was the same as against Ms Peralta. Motive and fibers.’
Watch it, Paget thought. Monk shook his head. ‘One big difference, Counselor, Ms Peralta admitted that she was at Mr Arias’s apartment a lot. Mr Paget denied being there.’
Paget could feel the damage, even before he saw Joseph Duarte’s silent nod. But Caroline looked quite calm. ‘And that,’ she said to Monk, ‘was why Mr Paget’s prints on the answering machine so troubled you?’
The question startled Paget; abruptly, Caroline had moved to the most damaging piece of evidence – Paget’s fingerprints.
Monk regarded her with an air of interest. ‘Yes,’ he answered.
‘Could you identify any other prints on that machine?’
Monk nodded. ‘Mr Arias’s and Ms Peralta’s.’
‘Why didn’t Ms Peralta’s prints disturb you?’
Monk gave her a look of weary patience. ‘Because she had reason to visit the apartment a lot. And before that, she’d lived with Mr Arias. You’d expect her prints to be on some of the things he took to his new apartment. Like drinking glasses.’
Caroline smiled. ‘Or an answering machine?’
Why, Paget wondered, was Caroline pushing this? Even Monk looked curious. ‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Do you happen to know the history of this answering machine? For example, if the machine had always belonged to Mr Arias?’
Monk shrugged. ‘It was in his apartment.
‘So it was. Did you happen to find Mr Paget’s prints anywhere else?’
‘No.’
‘Did you find other prints besides Mr Arias’s and Ms Peralta’s?’
‘Yes.’ Monk hesitated a moment. ‘We found several prints that we couldn’t identify.’
‘Including on the answering machine?’
‘Yes.’
Paget tried to detach himself; beneath his apprehension, the professional in him admired the skill with which Caroline chipped away at the evidence.
‘These unknown prints,’ she asked, ‘what did you do to identify them?’
‘We ran them through the FBI print bank. And our own.’
‘Did that assure you that none of the unknown people who visited Mr Arias’s apartment had a criminal record?’
Monk touched his glasses. ‘All that this told us was that the prints didn’t belong to anyone who’d been printed. At least by any agency we have access to.’
‘Didn’t that trouble you?’
Monk considered her. ‘Mrs Keller,’ he said, ‘identified Mr Paget.’
‘Or so Mrs Keller may think.’ Caroline’s voice became very soft. ‘Tell me, Inspector Monk, when did you first discuss this case with the district attorney? Not Mr Salinas, but the D.A. himself. McKinley Brooks.’
Before Paget could even turn to him, Salinas was on his feet. ‘Objection. Law enforcement is the D.A.’s job. What Mr Brooks may have discussed with Inspector Monk or any law enforcement officer is irrelevant to the evidence against Mr Paget. Ms Masters is simply trying to get a peep through the keyhole at our theory of this case.’
‘Hardly,’ Caroline said to Lerner. ‘We think that Mr Brooks has everything to do with the case against Mr Paget and, perhaps, with why there is a case at all. Justice will be blind, Your Honour, the day that district attorneys stop being politicians.’
Salinas assumed an indignant look. ‘That,’ he said, ‘is an unwarranted assault on the integrity of District Attorney Brooks.’
Caroline smiled at him. ‘Think of how embarrassed I’ll be, Victor, when Inspector Monk tells me that the D.A. fearlessly insisted that he follow the evidence, wherever it leads. Which, I’m sure, Inspector Monk would have known how to do on his own.’ Paget saw Monk arrange his face in a benign expression, and then Caroline turned to Lerner. ‘Just as Mr Salinas’s direct anticipated, the defense questions the objectivity of this entire inquiry. It’s important to determine if, for whatever reason, the police or prosecution did not follow all the leads they should have.’
Lerner wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, gazing at the courtroom clock. I’ll permit this,’ he told Caroline finally. ‘But if all you end up doing is making accusations in the form of questions, I’ll cut it off.’
Somehow, Paget sensed, that time would never come. When Caroline turned to Monk again, his face had become a blank. ‘When was the first time you spoke to McKinley Brooks?’
she asked.
‘Two days after we found Mr Arias.’
‘And how did that conversation come about?’
Monk sat back, folding his hands again. ‘The D.A. called me.’
‘Please describe the substance of that discussion.’
Monk gazed at the floor, choosing his words. ‘District Attorney Brooks wanted to let me know that the case should be handled carefully.’
Caroline gave him a satiric look. ‘Isn’t it your practice to handle your cases carefully? Or is the D.A. required to issue these periodic reminders?’
Monk’s returning gaze was level. ‘The D.A. believed that this case had political implications.’
‘Which were?’
‘That it involved Mr Paget.’
Caroline stared at him with an air of surprise. ‘How could Mr Brooks know that?’
Monk appeared faintly puzzled. ‘Somehow, the D.A. was aware that Mr Paget was involved with Mr Arias’s estranged wife.’
‘You hadn’t let him know about Mr Alias’s death, had you?’
‘No.’
‘So how did he know that Mr Arias had died?’
Monk touched the bridge of his nose. ‘I don’t know.’
Caroline’s expression became curious. ‘During Mr Brooks’s tenure in office, how many homicides have you investigated?’
‘Around a hundred. Give or take a few.’
‘And on how many of these have you worked directly with District Attorney Brooks?’
After a moment’s thought, Monk answered, ‘Two.’
‘Which two?’
‘The high-rise massacre, a couple of years back, where a gunman killed six people.’ Monk paused. ‘The second was the Carelli case.’
‘That involved Mary Carelli, right? The TV journalist accused of murdering the novelist Mark Ransom.’
Monk’s eyes seemed to widen; the effect was of someone trying to maintain an absolute poker face. ‘That’s the case.’
‘Would you say that was a high-profile case?’
‘They’re all important, and the victims are all dead. But the Carelli case got a lot of attention.’
‘And what was the result?’
Monk gave Caroline a droll look. ‘Mrs Carelli got off.’
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