Accused: A Rosato & Associates Novel (7 page)

“Bodes well for the City of Brotherly Love.”

Judy consulted her notes. “Final fact witness is the catering manager, Stall’s boss, who testifies that one of the kitchen knives went missing. Obvious implication, that’s the murder weapon, and he also testifies that Stall would have had access to it, all night.”

“Maybe they lost it or misplaced it.”

“Possible. Lastly, of course, both John and Jane Gardner take the stand and talk about how Fiona went missing that night. They were supposed to make a speech about the new offices’ dedication at nine o’clock, but she wasn’t around, so they went looking for her. They found Stall running before they found her.”

Mary could imagine the horror of that night, for Allegra. “So what was the defense?”

“Brandt argued in his opening that there was no evidence of motive, and reasonable doubt that Stall was the doer, and Stall testified himself.”

“That’s practically malpractice. What’s his side of the story?”

“He said he ran up to the conference room because he heard a shout. He saw Fiona on the floor, got blood on his hands when he covered the wound to try and stop her bleeding, and got his saliva in her mouth when he tried to resuscitate her.”

“That’s not CPR procedure anymore, is it?”

“No. And he says the cut on his hand happened in the kitchen that night when he cut limes.”

“Did the chef testify?”

“Yes, but for the Commonwealth. He said that he didn’t ask Stall to cut any limes.”

Mary mulled it over as she drove. “So when Stall hears a shout, he goes to see what it is himself? He doesn’t tell anyone? He doesn’t call security? It does sound fishy. Why doesn’t Allegra think that’s fishy?” She hit the gas, heading west toward Valley Forge. “How did they prove motive?”

“Mel’s opening argued Stall must have tried to push himself on her, and when she resisted, he killed her. If you have blood, skin, hair, saliva, and positive IDs, that’s enough evidence of motive.” Judy closed her legal pad. “Plus maybe they made something of it on cross. We’ll have to see the transcript or talk to him, and in any event, remember, it didn’t go to the jury. Stall pled guilty after he testified.”

Mary nodded. It was hard to believe Stall was innocent if he had pled guilty, but she knew that it happened, having had a false confession case before, in which a man pled guilty to protect someone else. “So the day he testified he was innocent, he pled guilty?”

“Yes, and we can both guess it didn’t go well for him on the stand. That’s probably why.”

“I wonder how often that happens, that someone takes a plea deal after trial has commenced?”

“It happens.”

“But why does the Commonwealth offer it, after they’d been put to the trouble of a trial, and especially after his testimony went south?”

“A deal is still better than the risk of an acquittal. They get a guarantee, and no appeals.”

Mary thought of another angle, too. “It probably looks better for the D.A. if Stall pleads out, instead of being convicted, in a case with racial overtones, and class, too. Then there’s less question of his guilt in the press.”

“Excellent point, and the case did get a lot of press.” Judy looked over, nodding. “How did you figure that out?”

“I’m an expert on guilt. I have enough for every felon in the Commonwealth.” Mary managed a smile. “Who was his other witness?”

“His mom.” Judy paused.

“So what was his deal, in the end?”

“Let me take you through it. He was charged with first degree murder, which carries only two possible penalties, death or life without parole. LWOP, as they say.”

Mary snorted, never having liked the acronym. “Italians don’t like the WOP part.”

Judy smiled. “It’s not a death case, he has no record and no aggravators.”

“Right, and second degree murder doesn’t apply, since that’s murder in the course of a felony.”

“Yep, so the Commonwealth reduced the killing to third degree, which has a statutory maximum of twenty to forty. He pled guilty to twenty-five to fifty.”

“So they increased it during trial.”

“Because he didn’t take it the first time. At twenty-four, he’s in Graterford until he’s fifty, at least.”

Mary felt a twinge. “Did he appeal the guilty plea for any reason?”

“No.”

“Did he file for post-conviction relief, based on ineffective assistance of counsel, in connection with the plea?”

“No.”

Mary steered the car past the City Line exit, at speed. “So if he’s innocent, all he has is us.”

“No, he doesn’t even have us. Allegra has us. Don’t mix your clients, remember?”

“Okay.” Mary thought a minute. “Remember that Allegra told us she had a reason for thinking Stall was innocent, but she didn’t want to tell us in the meeting?”

“Sure. Wonder what it was.”

“We’ll ask her.” Mary glanced over to see Judy deep in thought. “We’re not gonna let her parents close her out of our meeting, are we?”

“Hell, no.” Judy grinned. “Nobody grounds our clients but us.”

Mary laughed, then accelerated, heading for open road.

But for a second, she wasn’t sure if she was speeding from something, or to something.

Chapter Eight

Houyhnhnm Farm
, read the sign, and Mary turned into the driveway, her car tires rumbling over gray cobblestones until they reached a tall iron gate covered with English ivy. Beside it were stanchions of gray stone, with a silvery call box on the left, discreetly hidden in evergreens that flanked the driveway.

“Can you believe this place?” Mary lowered the window to press the call button. They had arrived after driving through the prettiest countryside she had ever seen, and they weren’t in South Philly anymore. “Think they’ll adopt me?”

“Just because they have money, doesn’t mean you want to be in this family.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t, either.” Mary pressed the buzzer, which crackled instantly. “Hello, it’s Mary DiNunzio and Judy Carrier, here to meet with the Gardners.”

“Welcome,” said a woman’s voice, warmly. “Come in and follow the road. Take a left, then turn right, toward the house.”

“Thank you.” Mary raised the window while the iron gates swung open. “The mom sounds nice.”

“It’s the maid.”

Mary smiled and turned onto the road, which switched to a grayish gravel. “I’m intimidated.”

“Don’t be. Remember, they’re just people and we’re lawyers. We can sue them to death.”

Mary steered the car past groupings of specimen bushes and trees, each with little brass nameplates. “The farm has a name, the trees have a name, everybody has a name.”

“Birds.” Judy pointed at a white aviary on the right, housing colorful finches that darted about, and a white chicken coop with a long run, where black-and-white hens clustered in the shade. “Look at that. Birds of a feather really do flock together.”

“This isn’t a house, it’s a theme park.”

“It’s a petting zoo, but you can’t pet anything. There’s the stables.” Judy nodded at a large hill on the left, and at its crest sat a large white stable, surrounded by fenced pastures where dark horses grazed, the graceful heads bent toward the grass and their tails flicking.

“Aw, I like horses.”

“Evidently, so do they. Except that in
Gulliver’s Travels
, the Houyhnhnm weren’t very nice. They were stern and imperious, like John Gardner on the phone.”

“Keep an open mind. Rich people can’t help it if they sound like bill collectors. They kind of are.”

“There’s the house.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Mary steered the car toward a huge mansion of gray stone, which had three wings, Palladian windows, and a bright white portico over the front door, under which stood an attractive, middle-aged couple.

“There’s Barbie and Ken.”

Mary smiled. “I don’t see Allegra.”

“She’s in shackles in the basement.”

Mary steered closer, then parked in a cobblestone lot that held a black Escalade, a white Mercedes sedan, and a silver Prius, the same model as Anthony’s. “See, a Prius. That shows they’re good people.”

“It’s the maid’s.”

“Do people really live like this?”

“Let’s find out. You take the lead in our meeting.”

“Me?” Mary turned off the ignition. She and Judy always ran meetings together as equals, which meant that they constantly interrupted each other.

“Yes, you. You’re a partner now, and you have a better feel for Allegra than I do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Judy’s eyes narrowed as she looked through the windshield at the Gardners, who were approaching. “They’re coming. Game face.”

“Got it.” Mary cut the ignition, and she and Judy got out of the car as the Gardners approached, walking in matching stride, which lent an unfortunate uniformity to their appearance, since they were both dressed in white polo shirts, pressed khaki shorts, and boy-and-girl patterns of Teva sandals.

“Welcome, I’m John Gardner.” John extended a large hand, and Mary shook it, trying to give good handshake. He was tall, fit, and handsome, with blue eyes and crow’s-feet that made him look reliable and reddish-brown hair that was turning sterling silver at the temples. His teeth were predictably straight and even, but his smile had a genuine warmth of a suburban dad.

“I’m Mary DiNunzio and this is Judy Carrier.” Mary stole a glance at Allegra’s mother while introductions were being made. Jane Gardner was also tall and thin, with wide-set hazel eyes and highlighted blonde hair scissored into a straight bob, curling obediently at her delicate chinline. Remarkably, however, a four-inch scar marred her right cheek, adding a badass touch to her wholesome American beauty.

“Call me Jane, and we’re happy you could make it today. Did you have much trouble finding us, Mary?”

“No, not at all, thanks.” Mary smiled to show they came in peace. “It’s great to meet you both, after meeting Allegra and hearing all the wonderful things she said about you. She’s a really remarkable young girl, and you must be proud of her.”

“We are, thank you so much.” John touched Mary’s arm and steered her toward the house. “Come on in. We’ll get you both something to drink and we can hash this out. Jane made us some fresh cookies and lemonade.”

“Where’s Allegra?” Mary asked, letting him guide them, and John gestured vaguely to the left, toward some evergreens.

“She’s setting up her new hives.”

“Does she know we’re here? I called her and left a message, but I’m not sure she got it.” Mary didn’t add that she had called Allegra on both of her telephone numbers, not knowing which one Allegra used more often.

“We didn’t tell her that we were expecting you, so unless you told her, she doesn’t know. As I said, we’d much prefer to meet with you alone.”

Mary was kicking herself. It was her own damn fault for not making sure she reached Allegra before they left the office. “Well, we’d like to see her.”

“You can, after we meet.”

“We’d like to see her first, if you don’t mind.” Mary hadn’t realized that the Gardners would try to game them out of meeting Allegra. She and Judy stopped walking at the same time, and so did the Gardners.

“In point of fact, we do mind.”

“Then let’s discuss this.” Mary hated to confront them as if they were opposing counsel in commercial litigation, instead of parents trying to deal with a painful family matter. She knew that their hearts had to be hurting under their well-dressed veneer. “We know this situation is difficult for you, and you have our condolences on the passing of your daughter Fiona. But Allegra has retained us, and as her counsel, we have an obligation that runs to her first and everybody else second, even her parents.”

Judy stood beside Mary, nodding. “John, you probably know that as lawyers we act only as an agent of a principal, and the scope of our authority is narrow. Frankly, we lack authority to meet with you on Allegra’s behalf without Allegra’s consent. So we have no choice but to meet with Allegra first, or we cannot meet with you at all.”

An awkward silence fell as John and Jane Gardner stood opposite Mary and Judy, the four of them squinting at each other in the sun, like rival teams in the most polite face-off ever. Suddenly they all looked over as the front door of the house opened and three older men in pinstriped suits emerged and strode toward them at a clip so purposeful that it could only be billable, like a legal cavalry. The Gardners had lawyered up, but Mary could have told them it wouldn’t work. The more outgunned she and Judy were, the more they liked it. You didn’t choose to be a lawyer unless you relished a good fight.

John Gardner gestured at the three attorneys, who reached them wearing professional smiles. “Mary, Judy, meet Steve Korn, Vincent Copperton, and Neil Patel, who work in our in-house legal department.”

“Hello, gentlemen.” Mary smiled back, in an equally professional manner.

“Yes, hi.” Judy smiled more aggressively, if she were baring her teeth. She always said that a litigator’s smile didn’t count unless her incisors showed.

“Excuse me.” Neil Patel stepped forward, his expression grim behind his thick glasses, and he buttoned his dark suit over a substantial waistline. “Mary, to come directly to the point, you’re well aware that Allegra Gardner is thirteen years old, a minor. Her parents are her legal guardians, and you may not meet with her, absent their consent.”

“We were engaged by Allegra to represent her, and as her counsel, we can meet with her at any time.”

“Allegra is legally unable to make any form of contract.”

“No, that’s not precisely true.” Mary bore down. “As a minor, Allegra can make any or all contracts she chooses, whether written or oral, but the law is that contracts made by minors will not be enforced in court, should there be a problem. We do not anticipate needing to go to court to enforce our representation agreement, which, by the way, was oral.”

Judy nodded. “Of course, we could ask a court to appoint a guardian ad litem for Allegra, and the guardian would have the ability to make enforceable contracts for her and to assure that her wishes are carried out. But if we do that, this matter would become public.”

John scowled, and Patel lifted a bushy eyebrow. “Obviously, we wish to avoid that. Perhaps there is a way to compromise. We would agree that you could meet with Allegra, with her parents being present.”