Eddie Flynn 02-The Plea

by Steve Cavanagh

  ‘Mr Forest, you did not, at any time subsequent to this murder, check whether the time code on the security footage camera system was synchronized with the time code on your security log, did you?’

  He pursed his lips, straightened in his chair.

  ‘No, I did not.’

  I lifted the first document from the pile Kennedy had given to me, passed out copies to Judge Rollins, Zader, and the witness.

  ‘Mr Forest, this is a copy of the nine one one emergency log for that night. I take it you are aware that when a resident makes an emergency call, a text registering that call is simultaneously sent to nine one one?’

  ‘I knew that,’ he said.

  ‘And from this document, can you read the time that the text was received?’

  His eyes flared, and he read, ‘Twenty oh four.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  I sat down, and Zader was on his feet right away.

  Suddenly I was aware of the sheer weight of the evidence against David. And the defense was no thicker than a sheet of ice. I had to tread carefully, slowly, or David, Christine, and I would fall into the cold, dark depths.

  Zader was about to send a huge crack across the ice.

  ‘Mr Forest, if there was a difference in the time signatures, would it be possible for the defendant to have left his apartment before the murder occurred?’

  Judge Rollins nodded enthusiastically – he’d been thinking the same thing.

  The witness shook his head.

  ‘No. It’s not possible for the murder to have occurred after the defendant left the apartment. There is only one way in and one way out – the front door. The footage from the security camera showed Mr Child and the victim enter the apartment, and then Mr Child leaves. I spoke to Mr Gershbaum personally. No one entered his apartment via the balcony, and it’s twenty-five stories high. When I swept the apartment, it was empty. It’s not possible because the victim had injuries that could not have been self-inflicted, and nobody but the defendant left the apartment. The only person who could’ve killed Clara Reece was David Child.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  Every nerve ending, every muscle, every ounce of blood in my body wanted me to turn around and look at Christine, but I knew if I did that I risked losing it completely. The battle was in this trial.

  I told myself to stay focused.

  I whispered to David, ‘Don’t worry. We’re okay.’ We were pretty far from okay.

  Swallowing down his fear, David patted my arm. He still believed in me.

  At least somebody did.

  ‘Officer Noble,’ said Zader.

  A thin man wearing glasses, blue jeans, a red and blue checkered shirt, and a hopelessly mismatched white tie strode forward and took the witness stand. He wore cowboy boots, which, inexplicably, made the whole ensemble come together.

  After Officer Rudy Noble was sworn in, he began polishing his glasses with the end of his tie. The DA’s first questions established Noble as the experienced CSI who’d examined both the victim and the crime scene and had documented his investigation with the photographs.

  ‘Officer Noble, given your extensive examination of the crime scene, and given the ME’s findings, what were your conclusions as to how the murder occurred?’ said Zader.

  ‘Given the wounds on the victim and the rounds found embedded in the victim’s skull and in the concrete beneath the tiled floor, the head shots were inflicted when the victim was lying facedown on the floor. That leads me to believe that she was initially shot from behind. There are two bullet entry wounds in the victim’s lumbar area. One round became lodged in the victim’s spine. The other was a through and through. It is—’

  ‘Sorry, can I just stop you there for a moment? What is a through and through?’ said Rollins; tax attorneys didn’t deal with too many gunshot victims.

  ‘It’s a term used to describe a bullet that enters the victim and passes through the body completely.’

  ‘I understand. Please continue,’ said Rollins.

  ‘It’s my belief, based on the evidence, that this second bullet went through the victim’s back, leaving a large exit wound in the chest, and it was this round that went on to travel through the window.’

  ‘How did you arrive at the conclusion that it was this bullet that shattered the window?’

  ‘We found an empty clip at the crime scene and another empty clip in the murder weapon, which was found in the defendant’s vehicle. This weapon holds seven rounds per magazine. Fourteen shell casings were found on the kitchen floor. Altogether thirteen rounds were found either in the victim or in the floor beneath the victim’s head. One fired round is unaccounted for. It’s a reasonable conclusion that this round passed through the victim, broke the glass, and was subsequently lost to us.’

  ‘What is beyond the balcony window?’

  ‘The window overlooks Central Park. We have searched an area of the park but have been unable to locate the spent round.’

  ‘In the ME’s report, it is her view that the bullet that became lodged in the victim’s spine may have killed the victim instantly, or certainly paralyzed her. Given your expertise, what view can reasonably be taken of the head shots after the victim has already sustained a near fatal wound?’

  ‘Passion. To my mind, the head shots were overkill. They were not the work of any kind of professional killer – this was a rage killing.’

  ‘What makes you certain of that?’

  ‘The killer reloaded. And then spent the entire magazine.’

  ‘Are there any official statistics in relation to homicides involving this level of violence?’

  ‘Yes. Where a homicide has taken place in the home, and a high level of damage has occurred to the victim postmortem, statistics tell us that in 94.89 percent of those cases, the victim was killed by a spouse or a partner.’

  And with that, Zader sat down. My witness.

  I stood silently, waiting for Rollins to raise his head from his notes and listen to my question. A whole ten seconds passed before the judge had the courtesy to pay attention. It felt like ten minutes. Noble had time to take a sip of water, then readjust his tie and check his glasses. I had time to think, to worry. Just before Judge Rollins fixed me with a disdainful look, Cooch got up, put a hand on my shoulder, and whispered, ‘Shake it off, Eddie.’

  My mind cleared and I started slowly.

  ‘Officer, presumably you tested the murder weapon for fingerprints, yes?’

  ‘Correct. None were found.’

  ‘Yes, I read your report. You say that the only fingerprints found were those of Officer Philip Jones, who recovered the weapon from the defendant’s car, correct?’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘But you also made another observation in your report. You say that when you expended the empty clip, you found a small amount of dirt?’

  ‘Yes, a little soil. It was just an observation. I have to record all of my findings when I examine a weapon.’

  Time to move on. Time to start flipping Gershbaum.

  ‘Officer Noble, you were in court just now to hear the evidence of Mr Gershbaum, is that right?’

  ‘Yes. I listened to Mr Gershbaum’s evidence.’

  ‘Then why is it that you say Mr Gershbaum is lying?’

  Judge Rollins pulled a face, flicked back over his notes.

  ‘Is the witness calling Mr Gershbaum a liar, Mr Flynn? That’s not what I have in my notes,’ said Rollins.

  ‘That is the effect of his testimony, Your Honor. Please allow me to explore the point.’

  ‘Very well, but I am taking a careful note, Mr Flynn. And please, be more specific.’

  I nodded, breathed in and out and tried again.

  ‘Officer Noble, Mr Gershbaum says he heard gunfire, he went to his balcony to check the street below, and then he saw the window of the defendant’s apartment explode. He said that after the window exploded, he didn’t hear any further gunshots. Do you accept that was Mr Gershbaum’s evidence?
’

  ‘I accept that he said all of those things. And I’m not calling him a liar,’ said Noble, hands open, a smirk on his face.

  ‘But you are, Officer Noble. You say the first two bullet wounds on the victim are in the lumbar area – one shot exiting the body and one paralyzing her and possibly killing her, and then she suffers the shots to the head. Correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But on your testimony, the shot that you describe passing through the victim and shattering the window is likely to be the first or second shot while the victim is standing in front of the window – followed by the point-blank firing to the back of the head when the victim was on the ground. Mr Gershbaum did not hear any shots after the window exploded.’

  ‘I can’t speak for Mr Gershbaum. I can only evaluate the evidence.’

  ‘The evidence, yes. It’s possible that the weapon may have had a full magazine of seven rounds and an additional round already chambered. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘It’s possible. But we didn’t find a fifteenth shell casing in the apartment.’

  ‘You never found the bullet that passed through the glass either?’

  ‘No, we haven’t yet.’

  ‘So it’s possible the killer could’ve picked up this shell casing and tossed it out of the window?’ I asked.

  ‘I can’t say that’s impossible.’

  ‘You mean, “Yes, Mr Flynn, it is possible,”’ I said.

  I heard a wet, unpleasant sound as Judge Rollins sucked his teeth. He shook his head as he took a note of the answer. Noble reacted like a third grader who’d just been put in detention.

  ‘Yes. Mr Flynn. It … is … possible.’

  ‘I have just a few more questions. I want you to explain why you believe the bullet that passed through the victim shattered the window. Couldn’t the victim have been lying facedown when this shot was fired into her lumbar area?’

  I’d taken too long. Zader was on his feet. He’d caught the whiff of blood in the air and was desperately trying to limit the damage.

  ‘Your Honor, this is a preliminary hearing, not the Nuremberg Trials. Mr Flynn is dragging this out unnecessarily.’

  ‘I’m coming to the end of my cross shortly, Your Honor. Surely it’s in the interests of justice and my client’s right to a fair hearing that I am allowed just a little more time.’

  ‘Make it fast,’ said Rollins.

  ‘Thank you, Your Honor,’ I said, then switched my attention back to Noble. He was smiling. He’d had time to think of an answer, and I prayed it was the right one, the one I’d been waiting for.

  ‘It’s impossible for the victim to have been lying facedown when this shot was fired through her body for two reasons. First, we would’ve found a great deal of blood and tissue on the floor beneath the victim. Second, we would’ve either found the bullet in the floor or ricochet marks where the bullet struck the tile.’

  Blood flushed my cheeks. Zader saw it, and his face dropped. He knew, before I even opened my mouth, that I’d set a trap for his witness, who’d just walked straight in.

  ‘Your Honor,’ I said, ‘I have rebuttal evidence, which I’d like to submit.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

  The judge read the document I’d just handed to him, and the crowd murmured and whispered like a soft ripple of water on a midnight lake. The sound of the crowd was broken by the rhythmic slap of David’s heel on the floor as his knee bounced with anxiety. Holly put a hand on his shoulder and cut off the noise.

  Gripping the pages between his forefinger and thumb, as if they were toxic, he handed me back the report with a sigh. ‘Very well. Make sure Mr Zader has a copy of this.’

  Cooch flung a copy at Zader, which sailed through the air and landed expertly on the prosecution table.

  ‘Next time, hand it to him, Mr Coucheron,’ said Judge Rollins.

  I waited around fifteen seconds to allow Zader to skim read the report. When his grip spasmed and tore the corners of the pages, I knew he’d finished reading it. I gave my copy to the witness.

  ‘This is a report written by an FBI field agent named Theo Ferenze. It details an examination of the floor of the panic room, located in David Child’s apartment. At the back you will see two photographs that have been printed on plain paper and appended to the report.’

  ‘I see them,’ said Noble, through tight lips.

  ‘The annotation for photograph one reads, “Panic room floor, treated with luminol.” Now, what is luminol?’

  Judge Rollins raised an eyebrow – I got the feeling crime scene analysis didn’t feature heavily in his limited experience.

  ‘Luminol is a chemical agent that, when applied to surfaces, highlights blood stains when a black light is shined upon the area,’ said Noble.

  ‘Thank you. You didn’t search the panic room?’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that there was a panic room.’

  I held up the Claudio, the architectural drawing clearly showing the panic room, which I’d taken from the wall of David’s apartment.

  ‘This was hanging on the wall. Didn’t you notice it?’

  ‘No. We don’t pay attention to the wall hangings. Anyway, panic rooms are for the occupiers. We understood from building security that the occupier, Mr Child, had left the building.’

  ‘Turning back to the FBI report, it states that a large volume of recent blood staining was found on the floor of the panic room in Mr Child’s apartment, as we can see from the purple patch on the floor, correct?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘And in addition, photograph two is a close-up of a notch in the concrete floor, in or around the center of the bloodstain, which, according to the FBI expert, is consistent with a bullet having ricocheted off the floor?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘According to Agent Ferenze, the bloodstained fibers found in the damaged part of the floor are similar to the T-shirt the victim was wearing that day?’

  ‘According to this report, that’s correct. I have not had an opportunity to—’

  ‘Just a second,’ said Judge Rollins. ‘What does this all mean, Mr Flynn?’

  ‘It means that the victim was shot in the back in the panic room. She likely died there. It means that sometime after this, her body was dragged to the kitchen, where she was shot twelve times in the back of the head. Isn’t that right, Mr Noble?’

  His mouth clammed up, lips drawn up under his nose.

  ‘That appears likely,’ said Noble.

  ‘If that is the case, then considering the accuracy of the other shots, the killer deliberately fired into the window?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s possible.’

  ‘Perhaps to attract Mr Gershbaum’s attention and have him call security?’ I said.

  ‘Objection, Your Honor. This is speculation,’ said Zader.

  After a beat Judge Rollins said, ‘Sustained.’

  I ignored the hit. The idea had been planted in Rollins’s head. One last question.

  ‘You offered the conclusion that the victim had suffered the multiple head shots because of the sheer rage of her attacker, but there is another explanation. Could it be that the damage was deliberately inflicted to wipe out the victim’s face, making her impossible to identify from her facial features or dental records?’

  ‘I can’t rule that out,’ said Noble, shifting in his seat.

  I took a moment. Evaluated. I wondered if I’d done enough. The judge looked confused more than anything else. I decided to quit while I was ahead. I thought I’d save my best shots for the last witness, Detective Andy Morgan.

  ‘No further questions,’ I said. Zader didn’t want any more of this witness.

  Noble almost fell over getting out of the stand. He didn’t want to stay there a moment longer.

  ‘I suggest we take a short break, gentlemen. Who is your next witness, Mr Zader? You can prep them during the recess.’

  ‘Your Honor, we’ll be calling the driver of the car that was involved in the RTC with the defenda
nt, a Mr John Woodrow.’

  No, you won’t, I thought.

  I got up, looking for Christine, and as I passed the Lizard, I palmed his cell phone.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

  My guts boiled.

  Scanning the room, walking toward the doors, my pace quickened, I broke into a run, my head swiveling, eyes searching out my wife.

  No.

  She was gone, and the agents with her. Christine had been taken. I slammed open the doors. The corridor was empty save for two people. On my right, Perry Lake, or John Woodrow, according to the DA. On my left, Dell. I reminded myself that I had a job to do.

  Perry Lake leaned against the wall and flicked his thumb across his cell phone. His mouth fell open when he saw me approach.

  ‘Eddie … I … didn’t know you were in this. I’m sorry, man.’

  ‘Take this, Mr Woodrow. There are photographs on this phone. Make sure to answer it when it rings,’ I said, handing him the cell phone that the Lizard had passed to me for this very purpose. Without another word, I turned and made my way toward Dell.

  Sitting cross-legged on a bench set against the wall, Dell lifted his gaze from his cell phone and said, ‘It’s your own fault, Eddie. I told you what you had to do. Why can’t you listen?’

  ‘Where is she? If she’s under arrest, she’s entitled to a phone call and an attorney.’

  ‘That’s only if she’s booked in at a precinct or in federal lockup. You’re a lawyer – you should know that.’

  ‘You have to process her as soon as possible. You’re holding her illegally.’

  ‘Thinking of suing me? Think again,’ he said, and stood. He motioned for me to follow him as he walked toward one of the large windows that overlooked the square. He remained a few feet from the window and gestured that I should take a look.

  I felt the vibration from my cell phone. I checked it and found a text message from Christine’s number.

  Third window, next to the stairwell. Take a look at the street.

  I ran to the window and felt my heart plummet ten stories.