Mortal Crimes: 7 Novels of Suspense (247 page)

The man with the black glasses was sitting alone at a table across the room, nursing a Pepsi and half a club sandwich as he lost himself in the pages of his book.

Hutch shrugged. "I'm not really thinking anything. Just making an observation."

"Maybe we should be putting him on our list of suspects," Monica said. "Along with Andy, of course."

Matt winced and Andy flicked a middle finger at her. "Nice try, thunder tits, but I'm bulletproof right now."

"You point that thing at me, McKenna, you better know how to use it."

"You had your chance back in college. You shoulda let me join one of your little web chats."

She cupped her breasts and jiggled them at him. "Dream on, buster."

It was a move Monica was famous for and everyone laughed. Hutch was glad to see that the old college camaraderie had returned, something he doubted the guy with the black glasses had ever experienced. Which, in a way, made Hutch feel sorry for him.

But then he'd always had a bit of a soft spot for people he saw eating alone. He knew it happened every day—hell, he'd done it enough himself—but there was a kind of inherent loneliness in the act that couldn't be denied.

That said, the creep didn't seem to be having a problem with it. Looked quite content with his book for company.

Hutch thought about those dead shark eyes and somewhere in the back of his mind he did exactly what Monica had suggested. Put him on the list with the Businessman, the Battle-Axe, Two-day Stubble, and just about everyone else who sat in that gallery every day.

He was thinking about this when he realized that the others had moved on with the conversation, and were now talking about Nadine, who remained the only hold out. The one person in the group who still thought Ronnie was guilty.

"So where is she?" he asked. "She promised me she'd be in the courtroom once the trial started."

"Busy getting rich," Tom said. "Some big real estate development she's been working on for months. Plus, she couldn't watch the trial even if she wanted to."

Andy frowned. "Why not?"

"Because she's a witness for the prosecution."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"WITNESS?" HUTCH said. "What the hell did she witness?"

Tom picked at the crumbs on his plate. "You remember that call she told us about? The one from Ronnie?"

It took Hutch a moment to retrieve the memory. Then he saw himself huddled with Tom and Nadine in the police station lobby, Nadine telling them about Ronnie's nearly incoherent phone call the day after she ran into Jenny at the Godwyn Theater.

"They want her to testify about
that
?"

Tom nodded. "I guess they think it's relevant. A way of demonstrating Ronnie's frame of mind."

"Frame of mind? The way Nadine described it, it sounded more like a classic drunk-dialing mishap than anything significant. How did they even find out about it?"

"How else?" Tom said. "Nadine contacted the detective in charge."

Matt shook his head in disgust. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

"She and Jenny were still pretty close," Tom said. "Not like the old days, but I think Jenny was doing some legal work on that big real estate deal. Nadine puts up a good front, but she was pretty busted up by the murder."

Monica huffed. "Like that's exclusive territory."

"Look," Hutch said, feeling the mood shifting. "Let's not forget that Nadine's a friend, too, and she's gonna believe what she wants to believe. I'm not the only one here who knows what that feels like."

Tom and Monica nodded.

"But I'll see if I can get hold of her tonight. Try to talk some sense into her."

"Appeal to her insecurity," Andy said. "She never did like being the odd man out."

Hutch doubted such an appeal would make much difference. During all those years at college, Nadine had always been very protective of Jenny, played big sister to her—even though Jenny was six months older. When Ronnie and Jenny got into it back then, Nadine would always side with her best friend. So it wasn't much of a surprise that the tradition had carried through to the present.

Hutch knew that once Nadine took the stand she'd be talking about the volatile history her two friends had shared. But there wasn't really anything to it. Occasional eruptions that had never amounted to much. Nothing more than what they'd just witnessed between Matt and Andy.

Like most friends, Ronnie and Jenny had fought sometimes. Maybe a little more than usual, but Hutch had never sensed any real animosity between them. And when he and Jenny were alone together, she had never once complained about it.

To Hutch's mind, Nadine was letting grief distort her memory, and he'd have to do his best to get her thinking straight. Just as Matt had done with him.

"You think she'll come around?" Monica asked.

Hutch didn't have an answer.

________

THE SECOND HALF of the day was more of the same. Abernathy and Meyer picking up pretty much where they left off, letting everyone know what an efficient and hard-working cop Meyer was.

The next three and a half hours were a flurry of testimony, objections and sidebars—not as dramatic as what you'd see on a television crime show, but just as compelling in its own way.

Anyone used to watching those shows would be amazed that a single witness could be on the stand for such a long time. Yet, for Hutch, those three hours rocketed by, playing like some of the most fascinating theater he had ever seen. Maybe he felt this way because there was so much at stake, but whenever he looked at the jurors, he saw that he wasn't alone.

It was impossible to know, however, how much of what Meyer had to say rang true to these people. Was his arrogance as obvious to them as it was to Hutch?

It was a trait that he hoped Waverly would exploit during cross-examination—which he didn't expect to happen anytime soon, since Abernathy seemed reluctant to relinquish the stage.

Watching them, Hutch got the notion that they'd done this dance many times before, and their timing was impeccable.

"All right," the ADA said to Meyer as the end of the day approached. "Let's circle back to the defendant. You've said that despite the phone records and the statement of Ms. Keating's secretary, you weren't immediately convinced that Ms. Baldacci was the perpetrator."

"That's right," Meyer said.

"Why is that?"

He shrugged. "Because at that particular point in the investigation, Detective Mack and I felt she was merely a person of interest. One among many."

"Oh? So there where others you suspected?"

Meyer nodded. "Of course. We always try to put out as wide a net as possible, and the victim had a large circle of friends and business associates."

"Who else were you looking at?"

"Ex-boyfriends and family members for the most part. The nature of the assault seemed to suggest that this was a rage killing. That the perpetrator held some sort of personal animosity toward—"

"Objection," Waverly said. "I'd like to remind the court that such characterizations are beyond the scope of the defendant's expertise. He isn't a forensic psychologist."

Abernathy looked indignant. "Your Honor, as Detective Meyer testified earlier, he has investigated dozens of homicides over the course of his career. If that doesn't qualify him as an expert in criminal behavior, I don't know what does."

The judge nodded. "I'll allow it. You may continue, Detective."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Meyer paused, returning his attention to Abernathy. "So, as I was saying, because of the nature of the assault, we felt it prudent to concentrate on those who were closest to Ms. Keating and might hold a personal grudge against her."

"And what did you find?"

"Nothing substantial. From all accounts, Ms. Keating was a well-loved individual and even her exes held her in high regard. Which left us searching for a motive."

"So you're saying that none of these potential suspects had a reason to want her dead?"

"It didn't seem that way," Meyer said. "Not only that, the majority of them had solid alibis for the night in question, and whenever we hit a dead end, we came back around to Ms. Baldacci."

"Why is that?"

"Because of the phone calls and her mistaken belief that the victim was somehow involved in her custody case. She and Ms. Keating were friends at one time, back in college, so it was our thinking that she may have felt betrayed. And in my experience as a homicide investigator that's a pretty strong motive for murder."

"I see," Abernathy said. "So did you interview Ms. Baldacci?"

"We tried, but we weren't able to contact her. And we got the distinct impression that she didn't
want
to be—"

"Objection," Waverly said. "There's nothing in evidence that suggests that Ms. Baldacci even knew the police were trying to contact her. The witness is once again making assumptions."

"Sustained."

Abernathy shot Waverly a look, then said to Meyer, "How did you attempt to contact Ms. Baldacci?"

"First, we tried calling her, but her most recent phone number had been disconnected. So we went out to her last known address—an apartment near Wicker Park—but were told that she'd moved."

"Any idea where?"

"Not at the time," Meyer said.

"What about her place of employment?"

"That's where things got interesting."

Abernathy feigned surprise. "Oh? In what way?"

"Forensics sent us a list of evidence that was retrieved from the victim's car. When we found out where Ms. Baldacci was employed, one of the items on that list came into sharp focus."

Abernathy nodded. "I'll be going over those items with the forensic specialist. Where is Ms. Baldacci employed?"

"At a pet grooming establishment called The Canine Cuttery."

"Pet grooming," Abernathy repeated. "And did you try contacting her there?"

"We did, but we got an answering machine. The shop was closed for the day."

They were playing it just right, Hutch thought. By concentrating on Ronnie's place of employment but withholding the significance of the mysterious item on the forensics list, Abernathy was using a tried and true storytelling technique to hook the jury. And he was handling it brilliantly.

"So what did you do next?" he asked Meyer.

"We checked public records to see who owned the establishment and contacted a Mr. Raymond Hardwick, who told us the defendant had left work early that day to attend a funeral Mass."

"The victim's funeral?"

"Yes."

"Did you then try to speak to her there?"

Meyer hesitated. "We considered tracking her down at St. Angela's for questioning, but out of respect to the victim's family and friends, we decided to hold off and not create a spectacle."

"I see," Abernathy said. "What did you do then?"

"When we spoke to him earlier, the defendant's employer gave us her current address."

"And where was this?"

"Her mother's house in Roscoe Village. We went there shortly after the funeral in hopes of getting there around the time the defendant arrived home."

"And did you have any luck?"

"No," Meyer said. "She hadn't returned yet."

"So what did you do at that point?"

"We went to the door, identified ourselves, and asked her mother, a Ms. Lola Baldacci, what time she expected her daughter to come home. She said the defendant had gone out with some old college friends and probably wouldn't return until much later that night."

"Was that the extent of your conversation?"

"No. We asked the mother about the defendant's whereabouts four nights earlier."

"And what did she say?"

"That Ms. Baldacci had come home after work, but went out again around nine o'clock."

"Did she know where?"

"No," Meyer said.

"And what time did Ms. Baldacci return?"

"The mother didn't know. She'd already gone to bed by then."