by Owen Parr
I walked towards a bench in the hallway and sat.
Father Dom sat beside me, and said, “That’s understandable with everything she’s gone through; killing a man, the Federal Marshall gunned down, she was shot, my God, who wouldn’t be depressed.”
“It’s more than that. Evidently, her boss, Mrs. Stewart, asked her to take a leave of absence to recover. Then, when she comes back, she has to prove she is physically capable, and I think Marcy is worried about that.”
“What does that entail?”
“If she loses mobility in her right arm, like the doctors say she might, part of the test involves having the ability to load and shoot with both hands.”
“Marcy is a lefty, she should be able to do that.
“Not that simple, brother. With a pistol, you have to be able to load, pull the slide back with a thumb and forefinger, and be able to do it with both hands, your strong, and your weak hand, in a timed test. Then, she has to have the ability to use the long arms, both a shotgun, which you have to pump, and whatever other semi-automatic rifles they are using these days.”
“If she loses mobility to that extent, I can see that being a problem. What happens if that’s the case?” Dom asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Then she can become an analyst of some kind, but no field work. Or, she’ll be offered disability with about sixty-six percent of pay, all in.”
“What’s all in?”
“Department disability, plus pension, plus social security.”
“Knowing Marcy, neither of those are going to be an attractive option for her,” said Dom.
“I know,” and thinking for a second, I added, “In speaking to her stepdad, he mentioned that Marcy commented to her mother how well I was doing. Referring to the offers we’ve had from the law firm, and my old boss.”
“You told her about those?”
“I did, yes. But, my idea was, and it never came across correctly, that perhaps she could see that if we expanded into a larger investigative service, there would be an opportunity for her to join us. After all, if we do accept both offers, we need help, you and I can’t do it alone.”
Father Dom observed, “She’s taking your possible success, and her potential fallback, in a personal sort of way. So, a little-unintended jealousy has crept in. You know what, Joey? Don’t take it personally. In her current mental state, that’s a reasonable reaction. She’ll come around.”
“I hope so, brother. She wanted to talk to me today, and it sounded kind of serious. I’ll go visit her after the trial.”
“Why didn’t you call me last night after the trial? We could’ve had dinner.”
“I should have. But, Inez Hartman, the attorney, wanted to talk about the case, and we went for drinks after.”
“Drinks? Did you go back to our pub?”
“No, we went around the corner, just two blocks from here.”
“And you had drinks.”
“She’s a very attractive lady, and I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“And?” asked Dom, in an inquisitive fashion.
“She came on pretty strong to me, wanting more than drinks. And I’m not blaming her. But, no need to confess me, brother, I passed on the opportunity. But, man, was it hard, and she was pissed.”
“By hard, I assume you’re referring to passing on it,” he asked, smiling.
“Father O’Brian, didn’t see that coming from you. Let’s just say, I passed on the temptation.”
“Good for you. Stay strong, make that… strong willed.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how you do it. Let’s get lunch.”
“Where do you want to go?” Dom asked.
“There’s a gourmet place on the corner?”
“Gourmet?”
“Gus’s Gourmet Hot Dogs from a cart on the corner.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The courtroom was packed for the final witness. The gallery had been treated to a fiery questioning by the defense, and the prosecution had scored points also.
Judge Wesley entered the courtroom, took his seat, and called the session to order. “Mrs. Goldstein, proceed please.”
Inez Hartman stood and walked to the lectern, “Thank you, Your Honor. The defense calls Ms. Geraldine Francis to the stand.”
Geraldine Francis, wearing a dark blue suit, a shirt, and tie, took the stand. Some of the jurors looked twice at her, her short, cropped barber shop haircut confused some in the jury.
A few moments after Geraldine had walked past our table, Mr. Longworth started sniffling and sneezing, sometimes loud enough that Wesley turned to look at him. He took out a pill box, and with a glass of water that was on the table, he downed a pill.
Inez went through the preliminaries, asking Geraldine to state her position and time of employment with the Longworth Foundation.
“Ms. Francis, for the record, and to dispense with this question, where were you the night Mrs. Longworth was shot and killed?”
“I was at the offices of the Foundation, working.”
“Any witnesses to that?”
“I believe I was alone. We have a small staff.”
“Ms. Francis,” Inez began, “we have already heard from a previous witness, about the increase in the Foundation’s donations and donor list in the last four years. This success coincides with your joining the Foundation, is that correct?”
“I don’t presume to take all the credit, but, that’s part of my job.”
“Of course, it is, and you seem to be doing it very well. Are any of the new donors past clients of yours? That is, people or institutions that you assisted as a trust officer?”
“Yes, some are. I was able to communicate the importance of the work we do, at the Foundation. Many are very generous with their charitable donations,” said Francis, glancing at the jury box.
“Ms. Francis, how big are the non-profit organizations, or NPO’s, in the United States?”
“There are almost one million non-profit organizations and foundations in the United States. Together, they employ about one in every four persons in the U.S.”
“That’s a big portion of the employment force. Are NPO’s and foundations exempt from income tax?”
“The income received by these entities is exempt from income tax, yes.”
Inez nodded in agreement. “And how much does a donor stand to benefit from U.S. income taxes, and state income taxes, by donating to one of these entities?”
“In some cases, up to forty percent of the amount given, may be deducted from income, for tax purposes.”
“Ms. Francis, was Mrs. Longworth involved in the daily management of the Foundation?”
“Ever since I became the Executive Director, she relinquished most of her duties in management to me. The poor thing, she was doing so much before.”
“I see. So, most of what she did was attend fundraisers, greet and meet donors, mostly, figurehead’s duties.”
“She loved that, and she trusted me with the rest.”
“Was Mr. Longworth involved at all?”
“No, not at all. Occasionally, he would attend a gala or function. But, only if it was local.”
“Good to know. Then we can say, or correct me if I am wrong, you and Mr. Pearson, the counsel for the charity, pretty much did all the work. Is that right?”
“Mr. Pearson did his thing, and I did mine.”
“But you worked close together, when he brought in new donors, right?” Inez asked.
“In that respect, yes.”
“You are aware, I’m sure, that the Foundation is being audited by the IRS?”
“Strictly a standard procedure for them.”
“Is that what they told you?”
“No, but they do that, as a matter of course.”
“I see. And, you must also be aware that there is an FBI probe into the Foundation?”
“Again, very typical with non-profits, and foundations.”
“You said typical? I can see an IRS audit being standard.
But, an FBI probe is not your typical fare, now is it?”
“Perhaps not as usual as an audit, I’ll admit that.”
“The Foundation makes donations to other charities mostly, not direct donations to entities, or individuals. Is that right?”
“We make donations to both. But, mostly to charities, and perhaps, other foundations the committee deems worthy.”
“And who sits on this committee?” Inez asked, as she glanced down, and turned the page on her notes.
“We have some volunteers that participate.”
“Is Mr. Pearson on that committee?”
“Yes, he is.”
“How about Mrs. Adams?”
“Also, yes.”
“Plus, others, and of course, yourself?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“How about Mr. Longworth?”
“He’s a standing member, but does not bother to attend,” Geraldine replied, sarcastically.
Inez looked up from her notes, at Geraldine, “Does it bother you, that he doesn’t attend?”
“No, that’s his business.”
“Does the Foundation accept donations from foreign entities?”
“Yes, we do.”
“And, how do you vet them?”
Geraldine shifted uncomfortably in her seat, “How do we vet them?”
“That’s what I asked, yes.”
“We do our due diligence, as best we can.”
“In this due diligence, that you say you do, are you able to ascertain if these donors are legitimate? Could you be taking money from criminal terrorist entities, or governments unfriendly to the United States?”
“Why would we do that?”
“I didn’t ask why. I asked, is it possible you do?”
“We check them out thoroughly,” she said, looking down.
“So, if an entity gives you money, you know exactly who the beneficial owner of the funds is?”
“We do our due diligence as best we can,” Geraldine replied, then thought for a second, and added, “but I cannot guarantee that in every case, we can be one-hundred percent sure.”
“I’m glad you added that. Otherwise, you might have incriminated yourself.”
“I don’t see why?” Geraldine retorted.
“Let me put it this way, one of the FBI probes of the Foundation, may be dealing with a criminal entity, which may have made a donation to the Foundation,” said Inez, glancing at the jurors.
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“Ms. Francis, do you know what charity receipts are?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Would you tell the jurors what they are?”
Ms. Francis turned to the jurors. “A charity receipt is issued by the receiving foundation, to the donor, so that they may claim the donation as a tax deduction in their tax filings.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” exclaimed Morris, the prosecutor. “Is this a murder trial, or a tax seminar?”
The gallery laughed softly, and the gavel came down loudly from Wesley. “Ms. Hartman, is there a point to all this?”
“I’ll move on, Your Honor,” replied Inez.
“That would be nice, thank you,” said Wesley.
“Ms. Francis, the Longworth Foundation issues charity receipts to both domestic donors, as well as foreign donors, is that correct?”
“Domestic donors, probably one-hundred percent of the time. Foreign donors that can use them for their countries tax deductions, when asked for, by them.”
“Are you aware that two of your donors are under investigation for fraudulent use of charity receipts?”
“No, I was not aware of that,” a disgruntled Geraldine replied.
“Is it your role, Ms. Francis, to issue these receipts?”
“That would fall under my supervision, yes.”
“Did you, acting alone, or in collusion with Mr. Pearson, use the Foundation to aid and abet either domestic, or foreign entities, to commit acts of money laundering, and, or tax evasion?”
Loudly Ms. Francis retorted, “That’s an absurd accusation, for which you have no proof.”
“I don’t, but the Federal authorities are investigating. Let’s move on. Did you and Mrs. Longworth have a relationship?” asked Inez, grabbing a large envelope from the defense table.
“What do you mean by a relationship?
“To be more specific, did you have a romantic relationship with Mrs. Longworth?” Inez asked, pulling some photographs from the envelope.
Geraldine was silent, and moved around in her chair, as she tried to glance at the photos that Inez did not display for anyone to see. You could hear a pin drop in the courtroom, as there was complete silence, in anticipation of the answer.
Hearing no response to the question at hand, Judge Wesley said, “Please answer the question, Ms. Francis.”
Mr. Longworth had sat there all along, quietly, and without any expression. In expectation of the answer, he leaned forward in his chair.
Geraldine’s shoulders dropped, and she sank a bit in her chair, as if to hide, then, in a faint voice replied, “Yes.”
“Could you speak a little louder, Ms. Francis?” Inez asked.
Moving her mouth closer to the microphone, Geraldine just responded, “Yes,” clenching her right hand, as if crushing a piece of paper.
“Thank you. How long were you and Mrs. Longworth in this relationship?” Inez inquired, shuffling, and glancing at the photographs.
“For the last two years.”
“For the last two years, you said. But, actually, you and Mrs. Longworth were roommates in college. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And in those years when you shared a room, you were lovers, right?’ Asked Inez, looking at the photos.
Ms. Francis hesitated, but replied, “Yes.”
“I see, so it’s been longer that just two years?”
“Yes.”
“Have you stayed lovers since college?”
“No, we did not.”
“When did you and Mrs. Longworth rekindle this love affair?”
Geraldine’s face was flushed. “In the last two years.”
“I see. So, for the last two years, you and Mrs. Longworth were lovers. At the same time, Mrs. Longworth gave you carte blanche in running the Foundation’s affairs. I submit that Mrs. Longworth found out about the improprieties being committed by you, and perhaps Mr. Pearson. She confronted you with them, after a romantic interlude at her home that evening, and you killed her to keep the matter quiet. Isn’t that right Ms. Francis?”
“No!” shouted Ms. Francis from the stand over the murmurs of the gallery, as her hands trembled.
“Objection, Your Honor,” said Morris, loudly, so he could be heard. “More theatrics on the part of the defense.”
Before Judge Wesley could rule on the objection, Inez said, “We have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor.” Without another word, Inez Hartman gathered her papers and photos, and inserted the contents into a file, walking back to the defense table.
Judge Wesley did not need to use the gavel, as the murmurs from the gallery had subsided, and utter silence overcame the gathering, once again. Wesley looked around, then glancing at the prosecution’s table, said, “Your witness, Mr. Morris.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Ms. Francis, do you need a moment?”
Holding a glass of water with both hands to disguise the trembling, and taking a sip from it, Geraldine replied, “I’m fine, thank you.”
Morris pulled out a file from his briefcase, “Ms. Francis, sorry for the discomfort caused by the defense, —”
“Objection, Your Honor,” exclaimed Mrs. Ruth Goldstein.
Wesley said, “Mr. Morris, ask your questions, please.”
“Sorry, Your Honor. Ms. Francis, how long have you been in banking, trust services and the like?”
“Over fifteen years.”
“That’s right,” he added, holding the file up. “And, in t
hose fifteen years, have you ever had any complaints from clients, or your supervisors, of any kind?”
“No, I have not.”
“As a matter of fact, you haven’t even had a parking ticket in your entire life, correct?”
Geraldine looked up and to her left, trying to recollect her past, “Maybe in college, I had a couple of parking tickets. Otherwise, I don’t think so.”
“College doesn’t count, we all get them, there,” Morris replied, with a slight laugh, as the gallery also laughed weakly. “To your knowledge, have you ever been under investigation by the police, Federal authorities, banking authorities, or anyone for that matter?’
“No, never.”
“One last question, Ms. Francis,” he paused, causing the jurors to look at him, “Did you kill Mrs. Longworth?”
“No, I did not,” Geraldine replied, in a dour tone.
“I have no further questions, Your Honor,” Morris said, gathering his things from the lectern, and heading to his table.
Wesley sat up in his chair. “Ms. Francis, you may step down. Mrs. Goldstein, any other witnesses?”
“The defense rests, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Morris, any redirects?” Wesley asked.
“The prosecution rests, Your Honor.”
“Very well. Is the defense ready for closing arguments tomorrow morning?” Wesley asked.
Ruth replied, “We are, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Morris?” inquired Wesley, glancing at him.
“Yes, we are, Your Honor.”
“In that case, we will adjourn until tomorrow at ten in the morning,” Wesley said, and proceeded to give the jurors instructions.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“That was good, excellent, Inez,” I said, as she stood next to me, and put her things in a briefcase, “Congratulations.”
Without looking at me, she replied, “Thank you,” and walked away.
I stopped by Ruth Goldstein, who was speaking to Mr. Longworth, “Mr. Longworth, sorry about exposing Ms. Francis as your wife’s lover. We had to do it.” she said, apologetically.
“I understand,” he said, glancing at the floor. “How does it look?”
Ruth replied, “We accomplished what we intended to do, that is; create reasonable doubt that you did it. Now, we make our closing arguments, and see.”