by Gene Epstein
At 1700 Rittenhouse, the porter smiled and opened the door for Robert, at the same time giving a young couple directions to Independence Hall.
When Robert reached Amanda's penthouse he knocked twice and in a flash the door opened.
“I got your message but I didn't drive today. I decided to walk because the weather was lovely. What brings you here today? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you.”
“No kiss? I'm the guy that's going to marry you. Unless you changed your mind?” Robert was half-joking.
“I'm so sorry. I picked up my answering machine and saw that you tried to reach me and I tried calling you on your car phone but the call never went through. Are you OK?”
“They have the killer,” Robert said, visibly excited. “They got a search warrant for the burglar Billy Thompson's apartment and there they found a 22-caliber pistol. Something that he denied ever owning.”
“Robert, I'm so glad for you. Now, if this isn’t an inappropriate time it never will be.” She and Robert kissed for an extended period of time.
“I just came from Bill Spaulding's house to give him the good news and he was happy as could be. You wouldn't believe it but he was working beneath an old Mercedes that had tiny jack stands holding the car, instead of taking to his shop to be worked on. He told me that's his therapy when he breaks away from work. Anyway, it feels great knowing that it's over.”
Amanda opened up her wine cooler and brought out a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. Robert uncorked it and filled two glasses halfway. They sat on the sofa.
“I know how you feel, Bobby, but this can go on for a long time. I know you are excited but there are so many things that get processed and numerous times there's conflicting testimony it never seems that it’s ever going to end. And then when you finally think it has ended somebody will file an appeal. Just be happy and play every day as it comes.”
Chapter 22
Marcus Reilly was informed that the murder weapon was found during a search of William Thompson's second-floor apartment. The district attorney has added the most serious charge yet—murder in the first degree against both defendants. Upon being notified he headed directly from his office to meet with his clients Billy Thompson and Albert Young Jr. at Monto County prison. His first concern was meeting with Billy, who was brought into a secure office with a prison guard standing at the door. Reilly broke the news and was a little bit upset with his client. “You lied to me. Of all people you should not lie to me; I'm the only one that can help you. Why did you tell me that you never had a gun when they found it at your apartment hidden behind a drawer ?”
“That's total bullshit! I did not lie to you. I never in my life owned a gun. I don't like them. I feel safer without one,” a panicked Billy answered.
Reilly asked, “Does anybody who lives with you own a gun?”
“No one. The last person that stayed at my place was over six months ago and he hung out for two weeks while he was going through some battle with his wife. And he wouldn’t own a gun.”
“You have a problem, Billy. It looks like they are holding all the cards. Now with the gun that they found there's a good chance that the DA asks for the death penalty.”
“I swear to God. I've never owned a gun in my life. I don't know how they found something that I don't own.”
Reilly pulled out a calendar and asked Billy where he was day by day from December 1 until the present. Billy was not much of a help. He admitted that he's not a good drinker and some days he just doesn't remember the day before. After a half-hour taking notes on Billy, he called in for Albie Young and sent Billy back to his cell.
There was absolutely nothing that he was able to extract from Albie other than he admitted that he was there with Billy when Billy stole the silver but wasn't with him when he got the Ford sedan that they were both driving. He kept swearing that the police pulled them over right after Billy robbed the place.
Something was gnawing at Reilly. Why would these two admitted thieves state the same story that they told the police that they were apprehended 15 minutes after they left the property on Monk Road?
Reilly went to all the hangouts that Billy mentioned to him and spoke with bartenders and waitresses, trying to get some insight on Billy. There wasn't one person that thought that Billy would ever kill anyone. They always saw him back down from a fight. And when he got drunk he was a nice drunk. The worst thing they ever mentioned about him was the couple times that he did get drunk and one of the guys in the bar insisted that they drive him home. Even one time after he fell and broke his wrist he still wanted to drive home.
Reilly contacted the DA and asked what for a plea deal and the DA laughed at him.
“Before we found his gun I would've made a deal. Now no deal. See you in court.”
During the following two weeks and before the next hearing, Marcus Reilly checked and double-checked everything that he was told by both Billy Thompson and Albert Young Jr.
***
“All rise. The Honorable Seth Clayton presiding,” shouted the bailiff.
In the courtroom were both defendants, detective Theo Harrison and Detective Simpson with public defender Reilly. The courtroom was filled with reporters from the Philadelphia Inquirer and all the local television stations. The rest of the seats were taken by visitors.
The district attorney read off the charges of murder in the first degree during the commission of a burglary against William Thompson. Each one was being tried separately, Billy Thompson first. The public defender Marcus Reilly announced his presence.
One by one, the prosecutor took the judge through each step that led to the additional charge of murder in the first degree. He also played a tape recording of Billy's confession over the objection of the public defender, who stated that this was done without the presence and advice of an attorney and under duress.
“Your Honor. I object to anything on the tape recorder since it was not kept in the evidence room following the chain of command but in the desk of a detective. Anything on that recorder cannot be used as evidence,” stated Reilly.
“Overruled, counselor. It was in a secure position in the detective’s desk.”
The prosecutor then played the beginning of the tape when detective Harrison asked him if he realizes that this is being tape-recorded, which Thompson acknowledged. The judge told the prosecutor to continue even though the public defender was furious. They called Robert Snyder to the witness stand and he was sworn in. The prosecutor asked Snyder if he in fact could identify one or more of the items that were found in the trunk of the automobile driven by Billy Thompson. Robert Snyder confirmed that a golfing trophy that was presented to Mr. Rodney Moore was probably from Mrs. Moore's home. Upon closer examination, public defender Reilly asked Robert if he remembered where it was displayed. Robert said he could not remember. Then Reilly asked why he was unable to identify even one other item out of the nearly one dozen and he told the judge that he didn't remember seeing them in the house during his two-year stay there but they could have been.
“Could they have been somewhere else?” Reilly asked. “Someone else's house? After all, you were there two years and you can't remember seeing any of these items. Is that correct?”
The prosecutor was furious. The judge seemed to side with the prosecutor, telling Reilly, “The witness already identified the trophy. I see no need that he has to identify each one individually.” He overruled the objection of the public defender.
The prosecutor presented pictures of the Ford sedan with a license plate hanging by one bolt along with the report of the theft of the same vehicle and a subsequent stolen license report. Then he brought out the 22-caliber pistol that was found hidden behind a drawer in the defendant’s apartment.
During questioning by the prosecutor, Billy admitted that he was driving a stolen vehicle but that he didn't steal it.
“I paid somebody I met at a bar 50 bucks a week to use it until the license plate expired; then the guy from the bar disappeared. I
figured he stole it but I wrecked my car drinking too much and needed a car. The license plate had expired, so I stole the license plate off some car in a parking lot.”
He then admitted that he entered the house on Monk Road through an open window and exited through a rear door.
“I believe we have shown probable cause, your honor,” said the prosecutor.
The public defender asked Billy about the gun found in his house. Billy swore as he had to Reilly previously, that he never owned a gun in his life and never wanted to own one.
“I did steal a lot of silver from the house but that's all. There was nobody there. I didn't shoot nobody. I wouldn’t shoot an animal. That ain't my gun. I swear to God!”
Billy Thompson was told he could step down, that at this time there are no further questions. However, the public defender asked Detective Theo Harrison to take the witness stand. After Harrison was sworn in, Reilly asked the detective if he found the gun when he went through the kitchen the first time.
“I did not.”
“So Detective, to understand this correctly you will have been doing this for 20 years short of just a few months when you retire. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“And you are a very experienced homicide detective, yet for some reason, going through every single drawer cabinet sofa you found nothing but when the second officer who assisted you with the search warrant inspected that same area minutes after you did, he found the gun that you claim belonged to the defendant William Thompson. Is that correct?”
“Correct.” Harrison sounded somber.
“Detective Harrison. Whose name did you find the pistol registered to?”
“The serial numbers were filed down and we were not able to determine that.”
“Detective, did ballistics do a match of the bullet that killed Mrs. Moore with the pistol that you claim belongs to the defendant?”
“No. They were unable to confirm because the inside of the rifling had been roughed up with some kind of a boring tool similar to what is used to clean out shotguns.”
“Detective Harrison are you aware that there are nearly 4,000,000 22-caliber pistols in the United States ?”
“I never checked. Never had any reason to.”
“Counselors.” The judge brought down his gavel. I find more than sufficient reason to show probable cause.”
***
Over the next several days Marcus Reilly was unable to sleep. He actually believed his clients and felt that they were being railroaded; however, the evidence showed otherwise. He went back to the Montgomery County correctional facility to go over step-by-step everything that happened the night the two had claimed that Billy burglarized the home.
Without an address but knowing that his clients were pulled over him within a mile from the premises, Marcus drove the mile back from the point that they were apprehended, writing down each and every address. He then spent several hours going door-to-door to interview the residents. When he approached Hampton Court he had to use the phone box to call for someone to permit him to enter. Then a bell rang in his head. He thought that neither Billy nor Albert ever mentioned that they would have to go through a gate. That was strange. So many conversations and not one time did either of them ever mention that there was a powered gate that needed a code.
He went to the next six adjoining properties finding one person who told them that their neighbors, Sam and Mary Johnson were vacationing at their home on the French Riviera but were coming home the end of that week.
He planned to return and took down the address. He approached the home and found there was no gate whatsoever. He left his business card in their mailbox with a note to please call on an urgent matter.
The following evening he went back to the few bars that Billy frequented hoping to get some better insight on Billy and his personality.
At Tiny Tim’s Bar, he ordered scotch on the rocks just to get comfortable with the surrounding people at the bar.
“Do any of you guys here know Billy Thompson? I'm not the law. I'm here to help him and I need some input from you guys.”
Besides some grunts and groans, mostly everybody had something good to say about him including a six-foot-four curly-haired 30-year-old with tattoos up and down his arms and a snake tattoo around his neck.
“Billy fell off the barstool,” he said pointing down the bar. “He landed on his wrist and broke it but wanted to drive home. I told him, ‘No way. you're plastered and you got to go to the hospital.’ He gave me some shit but he's a little tiny guy so I pushed him in my car and drove him to the hospital emergency. We waited there about an hour because they were busy with two people’s gunshot wounds and after they x-rayed him they put him in a plaster cast because he broke his wrist.”
"Do you remember when that was?" Reilly asked.
“Naw. Sometime in December. I know it just started to snow but nothing much came down overnight maybe an inch.”
Reilly then called the local television station informing them that he's doing an investigation and just needs to know what day in December there an accumulation of one inch of snow. He was transferred to someone in the weather department and they provided him with two dates. One where there was a maximum of one-inch accumulation in Philadelphia and another day when there were four inches. However, on the day of the four-inch snowfall, the snow started at 10 a.m. and stopped at approximately 4 p.m.
With that information, public defender Reilly headed to the Episcopal hospital to see if they had a record of a patient in the emergency room named William Thompson on that same day. A very courteous nurse behind the counter found his chart which showed that he entered the hospital’s emergency ward signing in at 11:12 p.m. complaining about his pains in his right wrist and was x-rayed at 12:45 a.m. At 2:30-3:10 a.m. Dr. Cooper placed his right wrist and hand in a plaster cast with instructions to return in two weeks for it to be removed and replaced with a removable one. At approximately 4:30 a.m. he was given one Percocet and discharged with a prescription for 12 more for pain if needed.
“I see there was a note that someone brought William Thompson here and who also drove him home since he would not be released in his condition,” the nurse said. “He obviously was in no condition to drive especially after taking the Percocet.”
Marcus wanted to kiss her. “Thank you so much. You might have just saved someone's life.”
Now Reilly was totally convinced that Billy Thompson was telling him the truth and he felt certain that Detective Harrison was setting him up. And he had actual facts that Billy Thompson was at a bar, fell off the stool, and broke his right wrist the night that Mrs. Jacqueline Phyllis Moore was murdered. He was treated in the hospital and not released till 4:30 a.m. in no condition to drive and was escorted home by some good Samaritan from Tiny Tim's bar.
Reilly had obtained a copy of the medical examiner’s report which stated that time of death occurred between 10:30 p.m. and 1:30 a.m.
Giving the Johnsons on Monk Road one day to settle back in their home after returning from the French Riviera, Reilly drove there at 11 o'clock that morning. They still had a mountain of suitcases piled in their entranceway, a few of them opened.
He questioned them about articles stolen from a room on the right side of their house and was surprised to find that they seldom used that room except to store articles to give to local charity auctions. They walked him to the room and were surprised to see the disarray and items missing, including the trophy that Mr. Rodney Moore gave to Mr. Johnson as a joke.
They were both glad that there was no damage done to the house nor any of their valuable items stolen; however, they each blamed the other for leaving a window unlocked.
Reilly assured both Mr. and Mrs. Johnson that all the items would be returned shortly following the disposition of this case. He told them the heart-wrenching story of Billy's abuse as a youngster and how it affected him.
“He's no angel, I guarantee you that, but his life is going to change and I'm goin
g to be sure of it.”
“They can keep those things especially Rodney's golf trophy. He pissed me off every Saturday when we went golfing. He won every single time, three years in a row, and one day about four years ago he came over with the trophy and a bottle of bourbon to tell me that the last time we played he cheated. We were the best of friends.”
Marcus Reilly left then placed a call to the local newspaper asking for a reporter who might have some background information on District Attorney Dennis Mazur and Detective Theo Harrison. He was informed that the previous summer, the Society Section featured a family gathering and a photo of Dennis Mazur’s arm around his cousin, Detective Theo Harrison.
Chapter 23
Reilly organized his notes in sequential order then placed a call to Theo Harrison.
“This is Detective Harrison can I help you?”
“Detective, the question should be can you help me. You see detective, I now have confirmed everything that you have done and can show, not only your utter incompetence but also prove that you criminally planted the 22-caliber pistol which you illegally removed from the evidence locker. At 4 o'clock this afternoon I want your ass and your cousin Harold’s in my office. No fucking excuses. You both be there and don't you dare be late!
“If you are, then I'm out of the picture and my cousin will lead a team FBI agents to audit the evidence locker and arrest you. At the same time, all the TV and media will be there. One last thing Theo, if you are late you can say goodbye to your pension.” A smiling Marcus C. Reilly hung up.
***
At 3:30 p.m. a meek detective Harrison appeared at his office and five minutes later his cousin, District Attorney Dennis Mazur, arrived. Reilly's secretary brought them into the conference room. Seated at the head of the table was Marcus and behind him on the wall was a 3-foot photograph of a Federal Superior Court Justice with his arm around Marcus. The two seated at the table looked above Marcus's head staring at the photograph.