Eddie Flynn 02-The Plea

by Steve Cavanagh

  I could hear the sound of pages being turned in Zader’s file, the muted tapping of Gershbaum’s anxious feet, the hum of the air-conditioning, and the swish of my pen moving through my fingers; this was the moment of calm before Zader filled the blank page of the hearing with the prosecution’s story.

  ‘Mr Gershbaum, what is your profession?’ said Zader.

  He’d been prepped for this: Gershbaum turned and gave the judge his full attention as he replied.

  ‘I’m a major motion picture director.’

  The judge’s eyes widened as a smile invaded his usually sour face.

  ‘Would I have seen any of your movies?’ asked Judge Rollins.

  ‘Possibly, Your Honor,’ said Gershbaum, rising slightly in his seat. ‘A few years ago I directed a picture called Little Creek Scout.’

  Putting his pen down, Rollins leaned back in his chair.

  ‘Well, Mr Gershbaum, may I say that’s one of my favorites. A great American story. Well, well. You may continue, Mr Zader.’

  And with that sickening display, Zader had made Gershbaum more or less bulletproof. If I went in hard against the judge’s favorite director, I would be pancaked.

  Cooch leaned over and whispered some words of advice. ‘Go easy on Gershbaum. Rollins is a big movie buff and he loves this guy.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to flip him,’ I said.

  A pair of unruly but distinguished eyebrows shot up close to the top of Cooch’s head. When you have a prosecution witness that the judge or the jury loves, you can’t attack them without damaging your case. There’s only one option – flip them; the testimony that the judge liked, that he believed, well, you just make that testimony favor your case instead of the prosecution’s. The trick was to flip the witness without the prosecutor or the judge even realizing.

  ‘Thank you, Your Honor,’ said Zader. ‘Now I want to discuss the events of the evening of March fourteenth. Where were you on that night, Mr Gershbaum?’

  ‘I was in my apartment in Central Park West, watching dailies.’

  ‘Your apartment is on which floor?’

  ‘The twenty-fifth. The tower, Central Park Eleven. Only two apartments are on each floor of the tower. The lower floors share three apartments per floor.’

  ‘And what are dailies?’

  ‘Oh, forgive me. Dailies are the collated footage from the previous day’s shooting. We’d been filming a gun battle in an alleyway. I was looking over the footage and making notes for the editor.’

  ‘Was anyone else with you in your apartment?’

  ‘No. I was alone.’

  ‘And what time did you begin watching the dailies?’

  ‘Around seven thirty. Right after dinner.’

  ‘And did anything unusual happen that evening?’

  ‘Yes. Just before eight o’clock, I heard a series of loud bangs. Sounded like gunfire. At first I wasn’t sure what I’d heard. There was a small amount of noise from the weapons used in the take. But then I turned down the volume on the TV and I heard a series of cracks. They were loud and very fast.’

  ‘How many did you hear?’

  ‘I’m not sure. The shots were rapid. Maybe five? Maybe more.’

  ‘What did you do after you heard these shots?’

  ‘Well, I still wasn’t sure what it was. The apartment is pretty well insulated against noise, so I didn’t think it came from the street, but I thought to myself that it could only have come from below. So I opened my balcony doors and went out to take a look.’

  ‘And what did you see?’

  ‘I leaned over the balcony, maybe expecting to see smoke from a car backfiring. Or maybe somebody in the park with fireworks. It’s close to Saint Patrick’s Day, so it’s not unusual for some people to start their celebrations a little early. You know what the Irish are like …’

  ‘Did you see any of those things?’

  ‘No, sir. I took a good look, and then the explosion happened. Glass just went everywhere. It came from the apartment windows next door. I glanced at them as I ran back inside.’

  ‘Go on, please.’

  ‘Well, I was pretty shaken up. I didn’t know what happened. I thought it could be somebody shooting at the building with a rifle, or maybe somebody shooting in the apartment next door. I grabbed my cell and ran for the panic room.’

  ‘I tried calling nine one one, but I couldn’t get a signal from in there. I didn’t want to step outside the room in case I needed to close the door real quick. So I used the phone in the room, called straight down to security and told them what happened.’

  ‘Did you lock yourself in your panic room?’

  ‘No. I’m a little claustrophobic. I was only gonna close that door if I really had no other choice.’

  ‘This next question is very important, Mr Gershbaum. How much time passed between you seeing the window explode and you making the call to security?’

  Like all good, honest witnesses, he took a little time to think about it.

  ‘I called security right away. I mean, I was scared. So, probably within, say, ten seconds I was on the phone.’

  Producing a document with a flourish from his file, Zader approached the judge with a copy.

  ‘Your Honor, at this time we’d like to refer to prosecution exhibit TM1. Detective Morgan will formally prove this exhibit in due course. With the defendant’s permission it might be appropriate to refer to it now?’

  ‘No objection,’ I said.

  Nodding his consent, Rollins accepted a copy of the document and asked the clerk to log it.

  ‘Mr Gershbaum, this is a security log from your building. It records, electronically, the timing of emergency calls from residents. As you can see, the log records an emergency call from your apartment at twenty oh two on the night of March fourteenth. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You will see toward the bottom of the page that security officer Richard Forest radioed the security station when he reached the door to your apartment. That time is recorded on the log as twenty oh six. Again, would that fit with your recollection?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘How did the security team gain entry to your apartment?’

  ‘I can buzz them in via the control panel in the panic room. That’s what I did as soon as I saw them on the security camera outside my front door.’

  ‘What happened next?’

  ‘I told them what happened. One of the guards went out on the balcony. Then I guess they found her.’

  ‘Apart from the front door of your apartment, is there any other way out?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you know if it’s a similar situation in Mr Child’s apartment?’

  ‘I believe so. When I leased the apartment, it was on the understanding that no structural alterations were to be made. I assume Mr Child would’ve had the same lease as I did. I think all residents were told the same. So no, the only exit is the front door.’

  ‘Would it be possible to exit Mr Child’s apartment via your balcony?’

  Zader was tying off all loose ends – nailing Child to the crime scene and the time of the murder without any possible doubt.

  ‘Not unless you climbed down the outside of the building, like Spider-Man, or something.’

  ‘When you entered your panic room, you said that you kept the door open because you are a little claustrophobic. Would you still have had a view of your balcony?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, in the time between hearing the shots and the security team arriving, did you see anyone leave Mr Child’s apartment and step onto your balcony?’

  ‘No. I kept an eye on the balcony in case anyone leaped over the divide and tried to get into my apartment. Then I would have to close the panic room door. I didn’t want to do that unless it was absolutely necessary. I don’t do well in confined spaces, not since I spent a six-week night shoot in a tunnel in Pinewood Studios.’

  ‘Nothing further,’ said Zader, taking his seat.


  I stood, buttoned my jacket, and gave Gershbaum a smile.

  I really had only one question. A simple one. I was throwing a snowball up a hill with the hope that this one question would start rolling back down the incline, getting bigger and bigger until it reached the bottom and crushed Zader’s case like a wrecking ball through a log cabin.

  Clearing my throat, I was about to speak when the rear doors of the courtroom banged open. Two men, federal agents, each of them flanking my wife.

  Even from this distance I could see her tears, her trembling hands, and the bright silver cuffs encasing her slender wrists.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Seats bolted to the rear wall of the courtroom were reserved for court security, law enforcement, and bail bondsmen. One of the agents threw his overcoat across Christine’s wrists and guided her to those seats. They’d wanted me to see the cuffs. Now they were being discreet.

  From the crowd I picked out Dell’s bearded, smiling face. He winked.

  Pressure. Dell was all about pressure. And he would use every last piece of leverage to force a deal. I saw Sinton get up from the gallery and leave the court. He nodded at Christine as he walked past.

  I felt a cold spike in my back that spread up toward my neck. It was almost as if the gun in my waistband called to me. My eyes grew hot, and I thought about whipping out the piece, grabbing Christine, and running. If we got out of the courthouse, we could hide. But that would be no kind of life for Christine, or Amy.

  ‘Mr Flynn?’

  Rollins, calling me. That icy tingle in my spine melted as I turned to face the witness – turning my back on my wife, turning away from her red, pleading eyes.

  There was only one way to save her. Her fate and the fate of David Child were linked, bound together as sure as I was bound to her. I didn’t trust Dell, but I’d learned the hard way to trust my own instincts. It didn’t make sense to me at the time. I just knew. Get this kid off – that’s all I had to do, and things would play out for Christine.

  ‘My apologies, Your Honor.’

  Just as I knew he would, Rollins rolled his eyes. I was sure that he still thought this hearing was a waste of time.

  ‘Mr Gershbaum, you had heard gunfire and you went out onto your balcony to investigate. Then you saw the glass in the apartment next door exploding. So, you didn’t hear any gunfire after the bullet went through Mr Child’s balcony window?’

  He lowered his gaze, blinked, began shaking his head.

  ‘No. I would’ve heard it. There was no more gunfire after the window exploded.’

  ‘No further questions,’ I said, glancing at Zader. His pen paused on the page. Then he looked to his assistants, hands spread, as if to say, Is that it?

  I was glad. Zader didn’t see it, but if the rest of the case played out the way I hoped it would, then Leo Gershbaum would become the main witness for the defense.

  ‘Redirect?’ asked Rollins. Zader shook his head.

  ‘Call your next witness. Let’s keep this moving, Counselors,’ said Rollins.

  ‘The people call Richard Forest.’

  Even as he spoke, Zader eyed me suspiciously. He was beginning to wonder if he’d missed something.

  Footsteps in the aisle. I hadn’t even heard the doors opening. It was Kennedy, with a bunch of documents in his hands. He almost bumped into the next witness, so eager was he to let me see what he’d found.

  Four pieces of paper. Five copies of each of the four documents. A copy for me, one for the judge, the prosecutor, the witness, and the original, which was to be logged into evidence.

  I read the documents as security officer Forest took the oath.

  ‘What are those?’ asked David.

  ‘Snowballs,’ I said. ‘Big freakin’ snowballs.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  Kennedy told me he got a call about Christine, from one of his FBI buddies on the task force.

  ‘I’m sorry, Eddie. This isn’t right. My guy told me Carmel and Amy are fine. They’re still in Grey’s Point. At least Amy is safe,’ he said.

  ‘She too young to see all of this. To watch her mother being taken away after what she’s been through …’ I clamped my teeth and said no more. Whatever else happened, Dell would pay for putting my family through this.

  It took Zader around five minutes to lead the security officer through most of his evidence. They covered the initial emergency call from Gershbaum, the response time, gaining access to Gershbaum’s apartment and climbing over the small gap between the balconies. He was a good witness; he gave clear answers, and I could tell, from the initial questions, Forest had once been a cop. Medrano told me that Forest had left the force because of a ball-busting sergeant. He didn’t take too well to that kind of authority but found a home, and better pay, at Central Park Eleven Security. A tall, lean officer with a starched collar and a red handkerchief in his blazer, Forest came across as an accurate, conscientious witness.

  ‘Once you’d made it onto Mr Child’s balcony, what did you see?’ asked Zader.

  ‘I saw the glass on the floor of the balcony first. I drew my weapon, hunkered down, and peered into the room. That’s when I saw the body of a young, blond female, lying facedown on the kitchen floor. I could tell that she’d sustained massive head injuries and in all likelihood she was already dead.’

  ‘What did you do next?’

  ‘I climbed over the balcony and moved into the room, trying not to tread on the glass too much, and I radioed my supervisor that he should enter Mr Child’s apartment, that we had a body on our hands and the perp could still be in there.’

  ‘Your supervisor had not entered the apartment prior to your call?’

  ‘No. We can’t enter a resident’s dwelling without permission, ordinarily. Not unless we have evidence that their safety or the safety of others is at risk. We’re not the police. There are a lot of powerful people who live there, and they cherish their privacy more than most folks.’

  ‘Please continue,’ said Zader.

  ‘My supervisor called nine one one and informed them that we were entering the apartment to do an emergency search. He got clearance for that from the operator, and he entered through the front door with the response team. We swept the apartment, found no one else. Not long after we finished our search, NYPD finally showed up. Then we cleared the scene and I gave a statement to Detective Morgan.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Zader, taking his papers from the lectern.

  ‘Mr Flynn, do you have any questions for Mr Forest?’ said Rollins.

  ‘Yes, Your Honor. Mr Forest, you entered the apartment and discovered the body. You then say you radioed for backup and your team performed a sweep of the apartment. Is that right?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Describe this search of the apartment.’

  ‘We searched the kitchen, the lounge, TV room, first-floor bathroom, ah – then we searched the bedrooms, bathroom, study.’

  ‘Anywhere else?’

  ‘No, well – there was nowhere else to search. Apart from the victim, the apartment was empty.’

  My dad’s warm breath in my ear: People believe what they can see.

  The next question was risky. I didn’t know the answer for sure. My mouth felt dry as I spoke.

  ‘You didn’t search the panic room?’

  Warning signs appeared in front of him, big as traffic signs and flashing red for danger. He searched for an answer.

  ‘By the time the security team arrived, they’d already been informed that Mr Child had left the apartment – so there was no point in searching the panic room. He’s the only one with access, and he’d already left.’

  It was good enough. Time to move on.

  ‘Mr Forest, you were a former police officer, so you would have some training and experience in firearms?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Considering your training and experience, how long would it take to aim and fire a whole magazine from a pistol, reload, and th
en spend the new cartridge?’

  He blew out his cheeks and said, ‘I don’t know, maybe half a minute?’

  ‘Half a minute. Could you do it faster? Would it be possible to do it in say fifteen or twenty seconds?’

  ‘Fifteen would be very fast, maybe twenty seconds.’

  ‘Twenty seconds, okay. I see that you wear a watch, Mr Forest.’

  He was a little taken aback. He screwed up his eyes, let his lips fold down. ‘Yes, my wife gave it to me for our anniversary.’

  ‘Do you have your cell phone with you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s powered down.’

  ‘With His Honor’s permission, I’d like you to turn on your cell phone, just for a moment.’

  ‘Your Honor, objection, relevance?’ said Zader.

  ‘I’ll be quick, Your Honor. This is relevant and I’m coming to the point shortly.’

  ‘Go faster, Mr Flynn,’ said Rollins.

  We waited while Forest switched on his phone. That delay gave me enough time to doubt the next set of questions. I decided it was worth the risk.

  ‘While we’re waiting for it to power up, can you tell me what time it is, Mr Forest?’

  Zader threw his hands up at the judge. Rollins nodded, looked at me. I stared at him hard, my jaw set and tense. I shook my head slightly as my eyes flitted between Rollins and Zader. Like I was waiting for the judge to back Zader, and then I’d be ready to jump in and claim bias.

  ‘Let’s give Mr Flynn the benefit of the doubt for now, Mr Zader.’

  ‘Thank you, Your Honor. Mr Forest, the time by your watch is?’

  ‘Eleven oh two.’

  ‘Can you read the time for me from the wall clock just behind you?’

  He swiveled around, stared, and said, ‘Eleven oh five.’

  ‘And what is the time by your cell phone?’

  Pressing a button, he sighed and said, ‘Ten fifty-nine.’

  ‘So that’s three different times, on three different devices just in this room. Mr Forest, the security log at Central Park Eleven operates on a different system from the security camera system, isn’t that right?’

  ‘Yes. They run on two different pieces of software, on different systems.’