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Authors: K. C. Constantine

BOOK: Saving Room for Dessert
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“So then, how would you explain why one of your neighbors, specifically a Mrs. Tomko, who lives directly across the street
from you, how do you explain that she’s on the Rocksburg Police dispatcher’s tape recording of the second watch at approximately
ten minutes after 7 P.M. on Friday, April 16th—how would you explain her call to the police station that you and Mr. Buczyk
were involved in a loud argument which she feared was going to escalate into violence?”

“She’s old, you know how people get when they get old.”

“She’s old? How old is she, do you know?”

“Old enough to get Social Security, I know that.”

“How do you know that?”

“’Cause couple days before the end of the month, she’s always out there lookin’ for the mailman.”

“And that’s what makes her old?”

“No. Not just that.”

“What then? What makes her old? You said before, I believe, you know how people get when they get old, isn’t that what you
said?”

“Yeah.”

“Well what do they do that makes them old?”

“You know, they don’t know what to do with themselves. So they start nebbin’ in other people’s business. Watches too much
TV, thinks everything that happens on TV is gonna happen to her, so she calls the cops about every little thing.”

“So—not to put words in your mouth—but if I understand you, you’re saying she had no reason for calling the police at that
time, that you’re aware of, correct?”

“Correct, that’s what I’m sayin’.”

“Uh-huh. I see. Uh, have you ever had a problem, any kind of problem with Mr. Buczyk, say, like two weeks previous to April
16th?”

“I don’t know what you’re referrin’ to.”

“Let me refresh your memory. On Friday, April 2nd, at approximately 6:45 P.M., on the sidewalk between your house and Mr.
Buczyk’s house, did he not strike you in the face with his fist?”

“I don’t remember.”

“And wasn’t he arrested by Officer Rayford for striking you with his fist?”

“I don’t remember.”

“And wasn’t he charged by Officer Rayford with assault and aggravated assault upon your person?”

“I don’t remember.”

“I see. A man strikes you with his fist. A police officer, namely Officer William Rayford, the man seated there in the first
row, that officer arrests the man who struck you, takes him before a district justice, charges him with violations of Title
18, all of which is now a part of police and judicial records, and you don’t remember any of this, is that what you’re saying
now?”

“Right. That’s what I’m sayin’.”

“Mr. Hornyak, have you been having any trouble recently remembering things?”

“No.”

“Have you recently been examined by a doctor, a GP, or a neurologist, or a psychiatrist, or a neurosurgeon?”

“No.”

“Would you remember if you had?”

“Yeah, course I would. I’d remember that, if I’d been to a doctor, yeah.”

“So no one in the recent past, say in the last six months or so, no duly licensed medical practitioner has said to you that
you suffer from any brain dysfunction, is that correct?”

“Brain dysfunction?”

“Yes. Any kind of dementia, say as a result of a cerebral-vascular incident, a stroke, or perhaps suspected Alzheimer’s disease,
anything like that?”

“No. I think I would remember if somebody told me that.”

“I see. Just a couple more questions, Mr. Hornyak. Have you retained the services of an attorney?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“That was my next question. Why? Why have you hired an attorney?”

“’Cause he’s lookin’ into things for me.”

“What kind of things?”

“That’s between him and me. He told me whatever we say between us stays between us, that’s the law.”

“He told you that your communication was privileged, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, that’s what he said it was. Privileged.”

“I’m gonna go way out on a limb here, Mr. Hornyak. Are you and your attorney planning to sue the city and Officer Rayford?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Because what you and your lawyer have talked about is privileged communication, right?”

“Right.”

“So it would be wrong for me to assume that you have a pecuniary interest in the outcome of this inquiry, is that correct?”

“A what kinda interest?”

“Money. A money interest.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean that if you and your attorney did decide to sue the city and Officer Rayford for the pain and suffering you’ve endured
as a result of that gunshot wound to your knee, the outcome of your suit against the city and against Officer Rayford to a
large extent will be determined by the outcome of this and subsequent inquiries, if there are any, that’s what I meant. You
understand me now?”

“Oh yeah. I understand.”

“And do you agree?”

“I guess, yeah. No, wait, wait a second—hey, that’s none of your business.”

“Nothing further, Madam Chairperson.”

Mrs. Remaley picked up several stacks of manila envelopes and folders. She slapped them down on the table emphatically as
she read off their contents: “I’m introducing into evidence the unusual incident report filled out by Officer Rayford on Friday
night, April 16th, 1999, in which he writes clearly that he shot Mr. Hornyak. Do you have any objection to that, Mr. Valcanas?”

“No objection, Madam.”

“I’m introducing into evidence the reports filled out by emergency room doctors Kim and Marino from the Conemaugh Hospital
ER after treating Mr. Hornyak on Friday, April—”

“No objection, Madam—”

“Would you at least have the courtesy to let me finish?”

“Of course, Madam. My apology. Please finish.”

“I’m introducing the ER doctors’ report of treatment of Mr. Hornyak for a gunshot wound of the right knee on Friday night,
April 16th, 1999, at approximately 8:30 P.M.”

“No objection, Madam.”

“Thank you very much, sir. I’m now introducing the report filled out by the surgeons who operated on Mr. Hornyak—”

“Madam Chairman, at the risk of raising your ire again, I think I could save you time by saying that I have no objection to
your introducing any written report made by any police officer or doctor or emergency medical technician relating to this
shooting incident.”

“Well my God, man, what was all that hullabaloo about before?”

“To use your own words, Madam, that was just me bein’ a lawyer.”

“Oh is that so? Well, Mr.-you’re-just-being-a-lawyer, I’m going to read every one of these documents into the record—”

“That isn’t necessary, Madam, I assure you. All you need do is identify them and give them an evidence number, I’ve seen them
all, and I’m sure counsel Hepburg has too.”

“Well aren’t you two just the most wonderful little lawyers?”

“I object to your tone and diction, Madam,” Hepburg said.

Valcanas bowed his head and hid his laughter behind his right hand as he pretended to rub his eyes.

“You two make me sick.”

“Objection,” they both said.

“Oh shut up for God’s sake and let’s get on with this.”

“Objection to tone and diction,” Valcanas said.

“Objection,” Hepburg said.

“Overruled, both of you! Call your next witness, Mr. Hepburg!”

“Aren’t you gonna finish entering, identifying, and numbering those documents as evidence? Before I call—”

“He said I didn’t need to read them!”

“Yes, Madam, he did. But you still have to enter them as evidence, identify them, and number them in order for them to be
part of the record.”

“Oh for God’s sake, I wish you two would make up your minds.”

“I think it’s safe to say, Madam, that we have,” Hepburg said.

“Was that a snide remark? Is that what that was? I think I know a snide remark when I hear one, and that sounded like one
to me.”

“Hey, Anna Mae,” Councilman Figulli said, “you wanted to do this, will ya go ’head and do it already, huh? C’mon, Jesus, you
keep this up, we’re gonna be here till Friday.”

“Excuse me?! Councilman Figulli, I’m warning you to remember who you are and who I am. In case you forgot, you’re just a member
of this board of inquiry, but I’m the chairperson. That means I’m in charge.”

“How could I forget that? Mother a God,” Figulli said, dropping his head into his hand as his elbow hit the table with a thump.

Mrs. Remaley glared at Figulli while he turned his head away from her and closed his eyes. When she was satisfied that he’d
been duly impressed by her remarks, she summoned counsel Hepburg to join her some distance behind the committee table where
she questioned him about something. Apparently she was asking how to introduce, identify, and number documentary evidence,
because when Hepburg came back around to the front of the table that’s what she did, turning her glare onto Valcanas while
talking slowly and enunciating carefully each word. Finally, she was done. She then excused Hornyak and ordered Hepburg to
call his next witness.

“Call Joseph Walter Buczyk.”

Hornyak and Buczyk passed each other without a glance between them.

After Buczyk was sworn, and with Hepburg leading him along the same chronological path he had led Hornyak, Buczyk contradicted
Hornyak in every way. Where Hornyak insisted that Rayford had not ordered him to “get down” or “get on the ground,” Buczyk
said he clearly and distinctly heard Rayford order Hornyak to “get down” or “get on the ground” at least four times before
he fired the first shot and at least that many times before he fired the second.

When Hepburg asked Buczyk how close he was to Rayford when Rayford was giving those commands, Buczyk said that Rayford had
jumped right over him as he was rolling around on the sidewalk and was never more than two or three steps away from him.

When Hepburg asked what was happening before Officer Rayford arrived, Buczyk said Hornyak had been “ragging and agitating
me” for almost twenty minutes.

“What about?”

“Anything. Everything. Whatever he can think of. He’s just real pissed off at me—”

“Hey!” Mrs. Remaley shouted, picking up her gavel and banging it hard on the table. “You watch your language, mister. Any
more talk like that and you’ll be in a lot more trouble than you are now!”

Buczyk stared at her, his chin dropping. “What’d I say? Huh? I say somethin’? What?”

“Oh don’t you play innocent with me, you get your mouth out of the gutter and back where it belongs, mister! I’m warning you!”

Buczyk splayed his hands and looked at Hepburg, who approached him, leaned in close, and whispered for a moment. When Hepburg
backed away, Buczyk was shrugging and shaking his head. “That’s profanity? I didn’t know that was profanity. Man, I heard
Dave Letterman say that.”

“Well if he’s who you’re going to use for a role model it’s no wonder you don’t know what’s proper language anymore. Don’t
tell me what you hear on TV, mister, because if it were up to me, all the TVs in the world would be at the bottom of the ocean,
where they belong. And if that’s where they were, I have no doubt our children would know how to read. And don’t you dare
pretend you don’t know what you said, and there’ll be no more of that.”

“Okay, yes, ma’am,” Buczyk said, wide-eyed. “Where was I?”

“You were saying what you and Mr. Hornyak were doing before Officer Rayford arrived. You were saying, I believe, that he was
ragging you, I think that’s your word, and I asked you what about.”

“Oh. Yeah. And I was sayin’—well I can’t say that anymore. So, uh, he’s just real real, uh, mad at me. I mean, we used to
be buddies. You could almost say like best friends. Not almost. We were. Then we made the mistake of goin’ into business together,
and it’s been all downhill ever since.”

“What kind of business?”

Buczyk sighed. “Aw, man, do I have to? I don’t really like to think about that. It still hurts, you know? Be accused by your
best friend you cheated him.”

“Briefly, Mr. Buczyk, you don’t need to go into great detail.”

“Uh, we bred our dogs—I mean we hadn’t planned to breed ’em, it just sorta happened, and then we thought well, why not, it
happened, let’s make some money offa it, you know? And so I sold the pups. He was supposed to get the pick of two litters
and ten percent of what I got for sellin’ the rest. And that’s what started it all, that’s when he accused me of holdin’ out
on him, cheatin’ him.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Like five, maybe six years ago.”

“And have there been other incidents between you two?”

“Over every little thing, whatever you can think of, if it was possible to start somethin’ over it, he started somethin’.
Where the property line was, where the tree branches grew, where the leaves fell on the ground, where the leaves fell in the
gutters, whose leaves fell in whose gutters, whose dog was … uh, doin’ their business in whose yard, whose car was parkin’
in whose space on the street, where you were supposed to put your garbage cans on the sidewalk, whether the property line
ran all the way out to the curb or whether it stopped at the sidewalk, and if it stopped on the sidewalk on which side of
the sidewalk, the side closest to the house or the side closest to the street, you name it, man, he started somethin’ about
it.”

“Any of these arguments become more than just verbal? Say like in the recent past? The past month or so?”

“You’re referring to when I got arrested, right? For assault?”

“Yes I am.”

“Well I did.”

“Explain further, please.”

“He said somethin’, I said somethin’ back, he said somethin’ else, I don’t really know what started it, it just went back
and forth, he started bringin’ up everything he was … uh, he was mad about. And then finally I just lost it and popped him
one, I probably shouldn’ta done it, but, uh, hey, everybody has their limits, I guess, I don’t know. Then somebody called
the cops, and that cop right there, uh, Officer Rayford, he showed up, and Hornyak started hollerin’ he wanted me arrested,
so he arrested me. Took me in front of a magistrate—”

“District justice, do you mean?”

“Yeah. District whatever. Justice. And he went along.”

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