by Marti Green
“Name?”
“Tom Noorland.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“She’s not.” Tommy took out a business card and handed it to the concierge. “I’m here about a case. I’m hoping she can help me with it.”
The concierge picked up the phone on the desk and punched in four numbers, then announced Tommy to the person on the other end. There was some hushed give-and-take between them, and then he hung up and said, “Apartment 1206. Elevators are ahead on the left.”
Tommy’s knock on the door of 1206 was answered by an attractive woman still dressed in a power suit—navy pin-striped with a lilac silk blouse. Her brunette hair was worn short, with a soft wave throughout.
“I just got home from work,” she said. “What’s this about?”
“Do you mind if I come in?”
“Maybe. First answer my question.”
“There’s a possibility that the man who raped you eighteen years ago murdered some teenage girl years before that.”
Rostoff flinched. She opened the door wider, and Tommy stepped inside. The living room was immaculately decorated, with each piece of furniture either black or white. Accent pieces in bold red added a splash of color. The wall of windows in the living room provided an expansive view of the Hudson River, with the Manhattan skyline on the other shore. Tommy took a seat on the leather sling-back chair, and Rostoff sat adjacent to him on the modern white sofa.
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about what happened to you?”
“Go ahead.”
“Would you tell me what happened with Bonetti?”
Rostoff just stared at Tommy, her eyes fixed on his face yet distant, as though she were seeing someone else.
“I know this is difficult,” Tommy said.
She bent her head down, then softly said, “I was so young then, so trusting. I met him in a bar. He was older, maybe late twenties, but handsome. I could see his muscles under the tight T-shirt he wore. He bought me a drink, and we talked, and then he suggested we go for a drive, go someplace quiet to talk. I knew I shouldn’t go, but he seemed so nice, and I admit, I was excited by him. I thought we’d kiss, maybe a little more, but I’d keep my clothes on. I didn’t want more. We drove to a lake. Within minutes, he was all over me, pulling at my blouse, my pants . . . I kept saying no, but it didn’t matter. Finally, I kneed him in his crotch, and when he loosened his grip on me, I ran out of the car. He ran after me, threw me down on the ground, and raped me.”
“He claims that you wanted to make love, that it was your father who forced you to press charges.”
Rostoff opened the first button of her blouse. Just below her neck was a two-inch scar. “I kept fighting him when I was on the ground. He took out a pocketknife and warned me to stop. When I didn’t, he slashed me. I gave up then.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Is that what happened to the girl who was killed? Was she raped and cut with a knife?”
“No. She wasn’t raped, but that doesn’t mean Bonetti didn’t kill her. He was violent with you. It shows he had it in him.”
“I hope you prove it was him. I hope he goes back to prison. I hate knowing that he’s walking around again, maybe raping another girl.”
Tommy nodded. “I’m going to do my best.”
It was after eight when Tommy finally arrived home.
“Eat yet?” Patty asked him.
“Nope. I’m starved.”
While Patty heated up his dinner, Tommy stopped by the bedrooms of his three children still at home. Tommy Jr. and Emily were away at college. Brandon was next, then Tricia, and last, now just thirteen, was his baby, Lizzie. In five short years, she’d be off to college, too, and they’d be empty nesters. He almost couldn’t wrap his head around it. It seemed like their house had always been filled with children—their own and their kids’ friends. Their place had been the magnet, always welcoming, always filled with the aroma of something cooking. He kissed Brandon and Lizzie hello, then walked back downstairs.
“Where’s Tricia?”
“A late band practice. She’ll be back any minute.”
“Who’s picking her up?”
“No one. She’s walking back.”
“You know I hate that. It’s dark out.”
“She’s sixteen already. She can take care of herself.”
I bet that’s what the Bradens thought of Kelly. He shook his head, trying to rid it of the dark images that kept popping up since he’d started on this case.
He sat down at the kitchen table, and Patty set his dinner plate in front of him. When he’d met his wife, she’d been working as a project coordinator at the Bureau, but she left after Tommy Jr. was born, and she’d been a full-time mother ever since. Patty ran everything at home, and because of that, Tommy had been able to flourish in his own career. Every day he was grateful she’d made the choice she did.
As he ate his dinner, he thought about Axel Bonetti. Kelly hadn’t been raped, and she hadn’t been cut with a knife. Still, Tommy thought that Bonetti could have been the one to kill Kelly. Although Tommy placed him at the top of his list, Johnson was still on it, and others could be added. Proving who, though, twenty-two years after the crime, was going to be damn hard.
Dani, Doug, and Jonah were seated at the round table in the ballroom of the Hilton Westchester in Rye Brook, with the president of the board of the Westchester Philharmonic and her family. They had rented Jonah a tuxedo for the occasion, and he looked dashing. The ballroom was huge and ornate and mostly filled. Dani estimated that more than six hundred people were in attendance. A string quartet had played throughout dinner, which had been better than Dani had expected for a fund-raising event.
The time had come for speeches. The president rose from her chair and made her way to the lectern. She thanked everyone for attending and for their generous contributions to the orchestra. “Without your support, we would not be able to provide the residents of Westchester County and its neighbors the gift of orchestral music.” She continued to thank various donors, the other members of the board, the conductor, and the members of the orchestra. When she finished, she said, “Most of you know that we instituted an honorarium this year for a youth musician. Our first honoree, Jonah Trumball, is a gifted composer, and our orchestra was honored to be the first to perform his Symphony of Spring. Please join me in applauding young Mr. Trumball.”
The room broke out in applause as Jonah stood. The president motioned him to come to the microphone. When he reached her, she handed him a certificate, then pointed him to the mic. This was the moment Dani had dreaded. She’d prepped Jonah on his words of acceptance, but she never knew what he might come out with.
“I want to thank the Westchester Philharmonic for this honor,” he began. So far, so good. “Music is in my head most of the time. It swirls around until I put the notes on paper.” Still okay. “And when it’s complete, I feel assuaged.” Uh-oh. He meant content or happy or satisfied. But this was Jonah—using a word just a little bit off. “Thank you very much.”
Wrong word or not, the room once again applauded vigorously as Jonah returned to his seat, a smile on his face so big that it almost matched Dani’s.
CHAPTER
33
Her name was Alison. He’d heard a friend call to her when she got off the bus. Now it was 3:00 a.m., the same time he’d taken Kelly from the bedroom.
He knew by now everything had to be the same.
The lights in the house had been off for hours, just like every other house on the block. He grabbed his tools from the passenger seat of his car, then slipped out and made his way to her bedroom window. He slipped in a pry bar near the latch and applied increasing pressure until he heard the lock pop open. He waited but heard no stirring inside the room. He slid the window open, then eased his bulk through it—not the easy task it had once been. Once he’d gathered himself in her room, he flipped on his flashlight and looked around. Alison was asleep in he
r bed. It was a girl’s room, with pink walls and flower decals making a border just under the ceiling. Up close, he could see she looked different from Kelly, but that was all right. He bent over her bed, then gently shook her awake. Her eyes opened slowly, but once she saw him, she opened her mouth to scream. He was ready, though. He clamped a hand over her mouth, then wrapped the other around her neck, squeezing just tight enough for her to lose consciousness after several thrashing moments.
He lifted her from the bed. Although the years had weakened him, he was still strong enough to carry her. Carefully, he opened the door to her bedroom, then tiptoed down the hallway to the front door, opened it, and walked to his car. He laid her down in the backseat, then tied her hands and feet and placed a strip of duct tape across her mouth. When he was finished, he drove his car to the isolated marsh he’d scouted out earlier.
When he arrived at his destination, there was little light from the quarter moon and mostly starless night. He placed a hiker’s light around his forehead, then opened the door to the backseat and retrieved his prize. His pulse raced, and he bit down a smile in anticipation of what was ahead. He laid Alison down on the ground and pulled the tape off her mouth. She remained unconscious. He could wait. It wouldn’t start to get light for another two hours. Besides, he enjoyed looking at her, at her silky blonde hair and toned body, shown to perfection in the boxer shorts and tank top she wore. At her youthfulness. Everything about her was perfect. Just like Kelly.
Forty minutes later, she began to stir. He waited for her to open her eyes, and when she did and saw him, she let out a scream, and that was his cue. The time to strangle her for real, to wring the life out of her perfect body. He straddled her body as his hands tightened on her neck, his excitement reaching a peak at the exact moment her body became limp. Before he left her, lifeless, he bit her arm, halfway between her elbow and shoulder, just where he’d bitten the others. And with that bite, he once again felt like a god.
CHAPTER
34
Oh, it’s the most terrible thing,” a breathless Amy Shore told Dani over the phone. “The police were just here. They took Jack away. A girl was murdered two nights ago, just a few blocks away. And she was taken from her home in the middle of the night. They must think Jack did it. Oh, I just can’t believe it. He seems like such a sweet man.”
Dani was speechless. She had been certain Jack was innocent. She quickly took down the name of the police station, then called and instructed them to stop their questioning of Osgood, that he was represented by counsel and she would be on a flight down that day.
As soon as she hung up, she walked over to Tommy’s desk. “We have a problem,” she said. “Osgood has been arrested. Another murder. Can you fly down with me today?”
Tommy nodded, and Dani asked her assistant to make the travel arrangements. She left the office to run back home and pack a small bag of essentials, then met Tommy at LaGuardia airport for a 2:30 p.m. flight. On the plane down, she could barely talk to Tommy, she was so distraught at the news.
They arrived at the police station at 4:30 p.m. and were led to Osgood’s cell. He sat on a stool, hunched over, wringing his hands. He looked up when he heard the key unlock the door.
“Jack, are you all right?” Dani asked as she and Tommy stepped inside the small cell.
“They think I killed a girl.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t touch anyone. I don’t even know who it is.”
“Her name is Alison Grant, and she lives twelve blocks away. Maybe you saw her on one of your walks?”
He shook his head vigorously. “Are they going to send me back to prison?”
“Probably.”
“Then I won’t see Doris again.”
Dani saw tears well up in his eyes. “You’ll still have a new trial on Kelly’s murder. And they have to prove you committed this murder. If we win both trials, then you won’t stay in prison.”
Osgood ventured a small smile. “I really like her.”
Dani was confused. Was Osgood referring to Alison? “Who’s that?”
“Doris.”
The sudden tightness in her neck disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. In just a few weeks, Osgood had formed a relationship with a woman. Maybe the first one he’d ever had a chance to have before being locked up. She reached over and patted his hand. “Did you tell the police anything when they brought you here?”
“I told them I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Did they ask you to write anything down?”
“No.”
“That’s good. Now, I need to ask you some hard questions, and I need you to tell me the truth. Did you take that girl from her bedroom?” Most criminal-defense attorneys never asked their client whether they’d committed the crime. If they answered, “Yes,” then they couldn’t be put on the stand. But Dani worked for an innocence project for a reason. It wasn’t in her makeup to help a guilty person go free. If Osgood committed this murder, she’d help him find another attorney, and then she’d back out.
“I don’t even know where she lives.”
“Kelly was taken from a bedroom, too.”
“I remember. That’s what they told me.”
“And this girl, Alison, she had a bite mark on her arm, just like Kelly did.”
“But I didn’t bite Kelly.”
“Did you leave the house late at night, after everyone was asleep, maybe to take a walk?” The police hadn’t said they had a witness, but Dani had to make sure she wouldn’t be surprised if someone stepped forward.
Osgood shook his head vigorously.
“Okay, Jack. I spoke to the police here. They think you killed Alison, and they’ve placed you under arrest. Tomorrow, they’re going to take you into court, and I’ll be there. The judge is going to read what you’re charged with, and ask you if you plead guilty or not guilty. When he asks that, you answer, ‘Not guilty.’ Okay? You understand?”
Osgood nodded, his head hung down.
“In the meantime, if anyone but us asks you any questions, I don’t want you to answer. Just say, ‘I want my attorney.’ And if anyone asks you to sign something, then say, ‘No.’”
As they walked out of the police station, Tommy said, “The location of the bite mark on the arm was never made public. Alison was bit in the exact same spot.”
“You think Osgood is guilty?”
“Actually, I don’t. But I think someone wants the police to believe that. Someone who’s the real killer of Kelly Braden.”
The next morning, Dani appeared in the Superior Court of Fulton County. At 9:30, a string of prisoners was brought in to Judge Max Kahn’s courtroom and settled in the jurors’ box. Osgood was among them. When his case was called, Dani moved to the front of the room, gave her appearance, and Osgood was unshackled and seated next to her. The judge read the charges, then asked for Osgood’s plea. Dani nudged him to stand, and she did as well. Loud and clearly, Osgood said, “I’m not guilty. I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Bail?” the judge asked the district attorney.
“The People ask for a remand, Your Honor. The defendant has recently been granted a new trial after serving twenty-two years for the murder of another young woman, also taken from her home. It’s too dangerous to return him to the outside.”
“The reason defendant has been granted a new trial is because the evidence that convicted him was tainted,” Dani responded. “We believe he is innocent of that crime, as well as the current one, and a new trial will show that. He’s already been wrongly imprisoned for more than two decades and shouldn’t have to endure any more time behind bars. He has posted bail of one million dollars in the earlier case, and we think that should be applied to this allegation as well. It is a sufficiently high amount to ensure he will return for every court appearance, which is precisely what bail is meant to do.”
“The similarity of the two crimes concerns me,” Judge Kahn said. “I’m going to have to side with the prosecution on this. Defenda
nt is remanded.” With that, he banged his gavel, and Osgood was led away.
Tommy had spoken to Stacy Carmichael the previous night and had gotten the names of three people—two girls and a guy—who’d traveled in the same circle as Kelly and Stacy. One was still in Stone Ridge, one in a neighboring town, and the guy, in Atlanta. At 7:30 a.m., Tommy rang the doorbell of Jonathan Ross, hoping to catch Ross before he left for work. Ross answered the door, already dressed in a suit and tie. Tommy handed him his card and explained why he was there.
“I don’t think I can help you,” Ross said. “Kelly wasn’t really my friend. I only knew her because of Greg.”
“How well did you know Greg?”
“We were close back then. We stayed close during college, even though we went to different schools, but then drifted apart. Haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Do you know how he felt about Kelly before they broke up?”
“He was crazy about her. I mean, she was hot. Most of the guys were jealous that he was the one to hook up with her.”
“Did you speak to him after Kelly’s body was found?”
“Yeah, we were all calling each other. We couldn’t believe anyone would do that to her.”
“How did Greg sound?”
“Broken up. We all were.”
“Let’s say for a moment that Jack Osgood didn’t kill Kelly. Is there anyone you can think of who might have wanted to hurt her?”
“No. If not Osgood, then it had to be some stranger, right?”
“Did you ever see anyone in your group act violently?”
Ross paused for a moment, then frowned. “Are you really thinking it might have been one of us?”
“No, not just your crowd. Maybe someone in school who had a beef with her. Or just the opposite—someone who wanted her for himself.”
“Like I said, a lot of guys liked her, but it was hands off because she was Greg’s girl. And I don’t know anyone who disliked her.”