Read Corrupted Online

Authors: Lisa Scottoline

Corrupted (25 page)

“Next up is
Commonwealth v. Lefkavick
.” Bail Commissioner Holloway recited the docket number, then turned to the bailiff. “Please, let's have defendant, Jason Lefkavick.”

Suddenly, the static on the monitor vanished and Jason's face popped into view on the screen. He looked subdued and tired, his eye swollen a darker pink. Bennie rose and left the pew, hearing Doreen talking loudly behind her.

“What the
hell
, Declan?” Doreen was saying. “Is that
her
? She's back? And what, he gets to be on
TV
? He doesn't have to face me? He doesn't have to look me in the eye for what he did to my son?”

Bennie tuned out Doreen, crossed to the transparent door at the bar of court, and was buzzed in. She went to the lectern as the public defender stepped aside, saying, “May it please the court, Bennie Rosato for defendant Jason Lefkavick.”

“Good morning, counsel.” Bail Commissioner Holloway shifted some papers on his desk, and the public defender sat down at counsel table, which held a system telephone. Bennie would have to use the phone if she wanted to speak with Jason, but the bail commissioner, assistant district attorney, public defender, and even Declan and his family would be able to hear. Bennie always thought the procedure violated the right to counsel, never more ironic than in this case.

“Thank you, counsel.” Bail Commissioner Holloway looked into the camera facing him. “Mr. Lefkavick, I am the bail commissioner. Stay facing the camera and speak clearly, please.”

“Okay.” Jason squinted into the camera, his eyes narrow and his head tilted slightly back, which gave him a hostile demeanor. Watching him, Bennie wondered if he'd become his own worst enemy.

Bail Commissioner Holloway continued, “Mr. Lefkavick, you have been charged on the general charge of murder, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Bail Commissioner Holloway turned to the prosecutor's table. “Is the Commonwealth opposing bail in this matter?”

“Absolutely, Your Honor.” The assistant district attorney went to his lectern. “This was a senseless and vicious murder of an innocent victim, whose throat was slashed and who bled to death. In addition, Your Honor, the defendant is most definitely a flight risk, and under no circumstances should the possibility of bail even be considered.”

“Thank you, counsel.” Bail Commissioner Holloway turned to Bennie. “Ah, Ms. Rosato. You've been sitting there a long time. I'm sure you have something to say about whether your client should receive bail.”

“I do, Your Honor.” Bennie adjusted the microphone, making it higher. “I am requesting bail for Mr. Lefkavick. Though it's true that he's able to travel, he has neither the intent nor means to do so. He lives in the city and has a job which he enjoys and he needs to work.”

“Does he have roots in the city?”

“Not in the city, but in the area. He grew up in Mountain Top, Pennsylvania.” Bennie knew it was one of the standard factors to consider, though she felt strange saying it in front of Declan, Doreen, and the boys.

“Does he have any family in the city?”

“No, Your Honor. His mother and father are deceased, but he has friends and coworkers in the city.”

“How long has he lived here?”

“Six months, Your Honor.”

“Does he rent or own?”

“He rents, Your Honor.”

“Thank you, counsel.” Bail Commissioner Holloway pursed his lips, then turned to the camera. “Mr. Lefkavick, I am denying bail in this matter. Please sign the paper in front of you. You will come back to court and appear at your preliminary hearing.” Bail Commissioner Holloway banged the gavel. “This concludes your arraignment.”

“Okay, Your Honor,” Jason said, before he vanished into static.

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Bennie turned, went to the bulletproof door, and when they buzzed her, pushed it open into the courtroom, where she had no choice but to face in Declan's direction. He was comforting Doreen, who was crying in his arms, her hoarse sobs echoing in the gallery. Bennie felt a wave of guilt, and Declan didn't meet her eye. Neither did the twins, but the blonde did, resentment etched on her pretty features.

Bennie went back to her pew, stalling to give them time to leave before her. She zipped up her coat slowly, noticing that Declan had managed to get Doreen on her feet and was guiding them all out of the pew and into the aisle. They went outside into the hallway huddled together, and only then did Doreen begin to cry in earnest, her sobs heartbreakingly loud.

Bennie swallowed hard, trying not to feel the twisting in her gut. She waited until she couldn't hear crying anymore, then rose, left the courtroom, and climbed the stairs to the lobby, swimming upstream against the court clerks, bailiffs, administrative staff, security guards, and other courthouse employees arriving at the Criminal Justice Center. To them, it was another day in the justice business, but not to Bennie, Jason, Declan, or Doreen.

For her and for them, it was the beginning of a reckoning.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

By the time Bennie got back to the office, everyone was in the conference room for their weekly meeting. She ducked her head inside to see them milling around the brewing pot of coffee at the credenza, Mary yammering about her upcoming wedding with Marshall and Judy, and Anne being chatted up by John Foxman, their new male associate. Bennie was getting the impression that Foxman was attracted to Anne and Judy, a love triangle that Rosato & DiNunzio needed like a hole in the head. She'd learned the hard way that law and love didn't mix.

Lou looked over. “Bennie, aren't you coming in?”

“I can't. How busy are you?”

“For you, I have time. Why?” Lou set down his coffee, and everyone else turned in her direction.

“Hello and good-bye, all.” Bennie flashed a quick smile. “I can't stay because I picked up a murder case last night. Lou, can you come with me?”

“Sure,” Lou answered, already in motion. “Let me go get my coat. Meet you at the elevator.”

“Great, thanks.” Bennie let Lou pass her.

Mary smiled, cocking her head. “Bennie, why'd you take a murder case? Is it high-profile?”

Judy chimed in, “I didn't see anything online.”

“We're court-appointed,” Bennie lied, not about to fill them in.

Anne raised a manicured hand. “I can take a murder case. I'm not that busy.”

“No, I got it.” Bennie kept her face a mask. “If you're not that busy, please watch my desk for me. I'll be gone most of the day.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, bye.” Bennie left the conference room, met Lou at the elevator, and they climbed inside.

“So fill me in, boss.”

“Remember that juvenile case I had a long time ago? Like thirteen years ago?”

“Honey, I don't remember yesterday.” Lou chuckled.

“Remember that trooper that I dated? Sergeant Right?”

“Oh.
That
guy. Him, I remember.” Lou's eyes flared.

“Exactly, and he's the uncle of the victim. My client in the murder case is the boy from the juvenile case.”

“Oy.” Lou exhaled loudly. “Give this case to Anne. You don't need the aggravation. It took you years to get over that guy.”

“Not really.” Bennie knew it was true, but it wasn't only about Declan. It was about the baby, whom she still thought about, when she permitted herself. The elevator reached the ground floor, where they stepped out and crossed the lobby together.

“I bet you're
still
not over him.”

“I
am
over him,” Bennie said, though she wasn't.

“Now I understand why you're so cockamamie today.”

“I'm not cockamamie today,” Bennie said, though she was.

“Meanwhile I can't wait to meet this jerk. Introduce me, I'll punch his lights out.” Lou pushed the exit door and held it open for Bennie while she went out and looked for a cab. It was a cloudy day, gray and colorless, but that could've been her mood. People hurried past them on the sidewalk, looking at smartphones and carrying covered cups of overpriced coffee. The street was congested with the morning rush, and a few blocks up, behind a white boxy SEPTA bus, was a Yellow cab, which flashed its headlights at her.

“Why?”

“For breaking your heart.”

“He didn't break my heart. It was the circumstances.”

“Oh please.” Lou shook his head. “The guy's a jerk. What was his name again?”

“Declan.”

“Even a stupid name.” Lou rolled his eyes. “I keep telling you, you need one of the tribe. All these guys I want to fix you up with, and you won't go.”

“I'm not in the market right now.” Bennie watched the cab get stuck in traffic.

“You haven't been in the market since
Declan
.”

“Don't be silly. I've seen Grady since him.” Bennie looked over to see Lou's shrewd blue eyes narrowing. He didn't look much older than he had then, except for deeper lines on his forehead, weathered from weekend fishing, and a tiny surgical scar on the tip of his strong nose.

“You wouldn't commit to Grady. The two of you, always off and on. The world doesn't stand still, Bennie. You have to shit or get off the pot. You were never all in with him, and he knew it.”

All in.
Bennie thought of Declan. “Okay, enough. Could we get back to the murder case, not my love life?”

“Evidently, the murder case
is
your love life.” Lou wagged his arthritic finger at her. “He's the one that got away. Everybody has one, and he's yours. But here's the thing you gotta realize, Bennie. Sometimes the one that gets away, gets away for a reason.”

“Thank you, Oprah.”

“After they get away, you build them up. You didn't get enough time to hate each other.”

“Are you serious?” Bennie saw the Yellow cab move a few feet, then stop again.

“Mark my words. I know, I'm divorced twice. How long were you and him together?”

“A weekend.” Bennie knew it sounded like a short time, but it only took a weekend to turn a life upside down, because it had hers.

“Like I said. So don't build him up.” Lou pursed his thin lips. “And anyway, why aren't you in the market? Don't you want to have kids?”

“If it's not going to happen, it's not going to happen.” Bennie cringed inwardly. She would tell Lou a lot, but she wouldn't tell him everything. Not the things she didn't tell herself.

“Bennie, you're too young to close up shop.”

“Lou, I'm a woman, not a store.”

“Forget this guy. Get out of this case.”

“No.” Bennie wished the cab would get here already. “Declan and the case are two different things. Our client is Jason Lefkavick. His father fired me, and it was because I was with Declan. I owe him one. I got a chance to redeem myself and I'm not going to blow it.”

“Okay, so what's the facts?”

“Jason sees Richie Grusini, his childhood enemy, in a bar and they get into it. They get tossed, and Jason follows Richie into an alley, where he was taking a leak.”

“Classy.”

“They get into it again, in the alley. Jason ends up unconscious on the ground and when he wakes up, there's a knife in his hand. He says it's not his, and Richie is dead, his throat cut. He says he was framed. He says he didn't do it. I believe him.”

“When were
you
born? Yesterday or the day before?”

“I don't think he did it. Richie was a bad actor. I'm sure he had enemies. We have to find them.”

“Did his enemies know he'd get in a bar fight? Did they happen to have a knife on hand, so they could plant it on our unsuspecting client? Right off the bat, it's obvious his story's a lie.”

“Try not to prejudge, Lou.” Bennie watched as the cab headed toward them, switching lanes.

“Did they offer him a deal?”

“We said no. He doesn't want one.”

“Why not?” Lou frowned.

“Because he didn't do it, and he believes I can prove him innocent. He trusts me. Still.” Bennie's mouth went dry. “I'm going to take him to trial and get an acquittal.”

“Whether he's innocent or not. Welcome to the NFL.”

“No.” Bennie felt relieved to see the cab almost to them. “He deserves the best defense I can give him and he's entitled to the presumption of innocence. You should give him that, too. We're his legal team, and believe me, we're all he's got.”

“See,
this
is what I love about you!” Lou gestured grandly. “There's a legal presumption of innocence, and you pretend it's not a joke.”

“Thank you, I think.” Bennie permitted herself a smile, as the cab pulled up and Lou opened the door for her. She climbed inside, sliding over, and Lou got in behind her, closing the door. She leaned toward the driver. “Hi, we need to get to Eddie's Bar on Pimlico Street in Port Richmond. The cross street is Dunbar.”

“No problem,” the cabbie said, lurching into traffic.

Lou looked over, brightening. “Port Richmond? I love it up there. They say it's gentrifying, but I liked it better before. I hate yuppies.”

“Nobody says ‘yuppies' anymore.”


I
do. I say everything nobody says anymore. I make it a point.” Lou's eyes lit up. “We should get a pizza at Tacconelli's. You have to call ahead to reserve the dough, that's how good it is. Plus we could swing by Stock's on the way back, take a nice pound cake back to the office. You like vanilla or chocolate?”

“Either.”

“Hmph.” Lou reached in his pocket for his phone. “I'm calling about the dough.”

Later, the cab slowed to a stop as it approached Eddie's, in the middle of the block, but Bennie spotted police cruisers parked at the entrance to Dunbar Street. “Lou, I think that's the scene, midblock on Dunbar.”

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