7th Heaven Part 4
Chapter 75.
YUKI READ LEN'S NOTES to her, his suggested line of questioning exactly what she planned to ask, but what was underscored in her mind was how important Malcolm was to the defense. And how important it was that she nullify his testimony.Yuki stood, walked toward the witness stand, saying, "Mr. Malcolm, are you here today of your own volition?""Not exactly. The long arm of the law reached out and grabbed me out of a nice little t.i.tty bar in Tijuana.""You have friends in Mexico, Mr. Malcolm?" Yuki asked over the laughter in the gallery. "Or was this a case of 'you can run but you can't hide'?""A little of both." Malcolm shrugged, giving the jury a glimpse of his terrible, gappy smile."A few minutes ago you swore to tell the truth, isn't that right?""I got nothing against the truth," Malcolm said.Yuki put her hands on the railing in front of the witness, asked, "How do you feel about the defendant? Ms. Moon.""Junie's a sweet girl.""Let's see if we can refine that answer, okay?"Malcolm shrugged, said, "Refine away."Yuki allowed a smile to show the jury she was a good sport, then said, "If you and Junie Moon were both free to walk out of here, Mr. Malcolm, would you spend the night with her?""Yeah. Sure.""And if she needed a kidney, would you give her one of yours?""I've got two, right?""Yes. Odds are you have two.""Sure. I'd give her a kidney." Ricky Malcolm grinned expansively, conveying what a generous guy he was."During your three-year-long relationship with the defendant, did you share things with her? Enjoy doing things with her?""Yeah. Sure.""And how do you feel about her now?""That's a little personal, isn't it?"Davis called out, "Your Honor, is this the Dr. Phil show? There's no relevance -""If the court would give me a moment to show relevance," Yuki interrupted."Overruled, Ms. Davis. Proceed, Ms. Castellano.""Thanks, Your Honor," Yuki said. "Mr. Malcolm, your feelings aren't a secret, are they? Would you please roll up your right sleeve and show your arm to the jury."Malcolm hesitated until the judge asked him to do it. Then he exposed his arm to the jury.Called a "full sleeve" by tat aficionados, a dense collection of tattoos ran up Ricky Malcolm's pale skin from his wrist to his shoulder. Among the snakes and skulls was a red heart branded with the initials R.M. hanging from the hook of a feminized crescent moon."Mr. Malcolm, could you tell us what the letters underneath that heart tattoo mean?""You mean T-M-T-Y-L-M-J-M?""That's right, Mr. Malcolm."Malcolm sighed. "It stands for 'Tell me that you love me, Junie Moon.' ""So, Mr. Malcolm, is it fair to say that you love the defendant?"Malcolm was looking at Junie now, his face heavy, having lost its wisea.s.s expression, Junie looking back at him with her huge slate-gray eyes."Yes. I love her.""Do you love her enough to lie for her?""Sure, I'd lie for her, what the h.e.l.l?""Thanks, Mr. Malcolm. I'm done with this witness, Judge," said Yuki, turning her back on Ricky Malcolm.
Chapter 76.
JACOBI CALLED THE MEETING to order at the crack of eight a.m. He asked me to come to the front of the room to brief the troops on our arson-homicide case and where we were with it - that is to say, nowhere. I was wearing jeans and a beaded tank top, a pair of moccasins, and a faded denim jacket that I'd left at Joe's place before the fire.It was all that I had.I got whistles, of course, one beefy old-timer shouting out, "Nice rack, Sarge.""Shut up, McCracken," Rich shouted back, making me blush, extending the moment as my fellow cops laughed and made raunchy comments to each other. After Jacobi kicked a desk so that a hollow boom silenced the room, I filled everyone in on the Meacham and Malone homicides.a.s.signments were divvied up, I got into the car with Conklin, and we drove to one of the dark and grubby alleys in the Mission. We were doing it again, more down-and-dirty detective work, hoping for clues in the absence of a single hard lead.Our first stop was a p.a.w.nshop on Polk called Gold 'n' Things, a shop piled high with outdated electronics and musical instruments, and a half-dozen gla.s.s cases filled with tacky bling. The proprietor was Rudy Vitale, an obese man with thick gla.s.ses and thin hair, a marginal fence who used the p.a.w.nshop as his office while making his real deals in cars and bars, anywhere but here.I let Conklin take the lead because my insides were still reeling from the sharp turn my life had taken only twelve hours before.My mind was stuck in a groove of what the fire had cost me in emotional touchstones to my past: my Willie Mays jacket, my Indian pottery, and everything that had belonged to my mother, especially her letters telling me how much she loved me, a sentiment she'd only been able to write when she was dying but was never able to actually say.As Conklin showed insurance photos to Vitale, I glanced at the display cases, still in a daze, not expecting anything, when suddenly, as if someone yelled Hey in my ear, I saw Patty Malone's sapphire necklace on a velveteen tray, right there."Rich," I said sharply. "Take a look at this."Conklin looked, then told Vitale to open the case. Baubles clanked as Vitale pawed through them, handed the necklace up to Conklin with his catcher's mitt of a hand."You're saying these are real sapphires?" Vitale said innocently.Conklin's face blanched around the eyes as he placed the necklace down on the photograph. It was clearly a match."Where'd you get this?" he asked Vitale."Some kid brought it in a week ago.""Let's see the paperwork.""Hold on," Vitale said, waddling back to his cage.He moved a pile of auction catalogs and books on antique jewelry from his desk chair, then tapped the keys on his laptop."Got it. I paid the kid a hundred bucks. Here you go. Whoops. I just noticed his name."I read the receipt over Conklin's shoulder, the name Clark Kent, an address somewhere in the middle of the bay, and the description of a "blue topaz necklace.""Was he wearing a suit and eyegla.s.ses?" Conklin yelled. "Or maybe he'd changed into tights and a cape?""I'll need the tape from that," I said, pointing to the video camera anch.o.r.ed in the corner of the ceiling like a red-eyed spider.Vitale said, "That's got a twenty-four-hour loop. He's not on it anymore. Anyway, I dimly remember the kid, and I don't think he was the tights-and-cape type. More of a preppy look. I think maybe I sold him some comic books one time before.""Can you do better than 'preppy look'?""Dark hair, I think. A little on the stocky side.""We'll need you to come in and look at our mug books," I said. "Talk to a sketch artist.""I'm no good at faces," said Vitale. "It's like a disorder I have. Some kind of dyslexia. I don't think I'd recognize you if I saw you tomorrow.""Bull," Conklin snapped. "This is a homicide investigation, Vitale. Understand? If that kid comes in again, call us. Preferably while he's still here. And make a copy of his driver's license.""Okay, chief," Vitale said. "Will do.""It's something," Conklin said to me as he started up the car. "Kelly will be glad to have something from her mom.""Yeah, she will," I said.My mind flew to my own mom's death. I turned my head so that Conklin couldn't see the tears that came into my eyes.
Chapter 77.
CHUCK HANNI STOOD with me and Joe in the dank bas.e.m.e.nt of the building where I used to live, showing us the fine points of archaic k.n.o.b-and-tube wiring as water dripped on our heads. The door to the fuse box was open, and Hanni held his Mag-Lite on a fuse he wanted me to see."See how this penny is annealed to the back of the fuse?"I could just make out the dull copper blob."The college girls on the second floor - you know them?" Hanni asked."Just to wave hi.""Okay, well, apparently they've been blowing fuses every other day with their hair dryers and air conditioner and irons and whatnot. And your super got tired of running over here to change the fuse, so he put this penny in here.""Which does what?"Chuck explained everything that happened, how the copper penny overrode the fuse so that the circuit didn't trip. Instead the electricity went through the penny and melted down the wiring at its weakest point. In this case, the ceiling lights on the second floor and the electric sockets in my apartment.I visualized flames shooting out of the socket, but I still didn't get it - so Chuck took his time explaining to me and to Joe how my building, like a lot of old buildings, had "balloon construction," that is, the framing timbers ran from roof to ceiling without any fire stops in between."The fire just races up through the walls," Hanni said. "Those s.p.a.ces between the timbers act like chimneys. And so when the fire reached your apartment, it came out the sockets, set your stuff on fire, and just kept going. Took out the roof and burned itself out.""So you're telling me this was an accident?""I was suspicious, too," Chuck told me.He said that he'd questioned everyone himself: the building manager, the girls downstairs, and in particular our aging handyman, Angel Fernandez, who admitted he'd put the penny behind the fuse to save himself another trip up the hill."If anyone had died in this fire, I'd be charging Angel Fernandez with negligent homicide," Hanni said. "I'm calling this an accidental fire, Lindsay. You file an insurance claim and it will sail through."I'd been trained to read a lie in a person's face, and all I saw was the truth in Chuck Hanni's frankly honest features. But I was jumpy and not quite ready to let my worst suspicions go. Walking out to Joe's car I asked for his point of view as a guy who'd spent a couple of decades in law enforcement."Hanni didn't do it, honey. I think he's suffering almost as much as you are. And I think he likes you.""That's your professional opinion?""Yep. Hanni's on your side."
Chapter 78.
YUKI WAS WIRED.We were eating lunch at her desk, both of us picking through our salads as if we were looking for nuggets of gold instead of chicken. Yuki had asked me how I was feeling, but I didn't have much to say and she was pent up, so I said, "You first," and she was off."So, Davis calls her expert shrink, Dr. Maria Paige. Ever heard of her?" Yuki asked me.I shook my head no."She's on Court TV sometimes. Tall? Blond? Harvard?"I shook my head no again and Yuki said, "Doesn't matter. So, anyway. Davis puts this big-name shrink on the stand to tell us all about false confessions.""Ahh," I said, getting it. "Junie Moon's 'false' confession?""Right. And she's a bright babe, this shrink. She's got it all down. How and why Miranda rights came into being so that cops can't coerce suspects. The landmark studies by Gudjonsson and Clark having to do with the suggestibility of certain subjects. And the Reid book for cops on how to get around Miranda."She sounds like she wrote the fricking book, Lindsay," Yuki continued, getting even more p.i.s.sed off. "She says with authority how cops can browbeat and trick suspects into making false confessions.""Well, some might do that - but I sure didn't.""Of course not. And so then she says how certain people with low intelligence or low self-esteem would rather agree with cops than disagree with them. And so the jury looks at Junie.""Junie confessed all on her own -""I know, I know, but you know what Junie looks like - Bambi's baby sister. So finally Dr. Paige wraps it up, and I'm wondering how I'm going to cancel out her testimony without showing the whole two-hour tape of your interview with Junie.""Well, you could've done that," I said, snapping the plastic lid closed on my salad and tossing it into the trash can. Yuki did the same."Two hours, Lindsay? Of Junie denying everything? So listen. I got up and said, 'Dr. Paige, did you ever meet Junie Moon?' 'No.' 'Ever see the tape of the interview with the police?' 'Yes.' So I said, 'Did the police browbeat the defendant or lie to her or trick her?' 'No, no, not really.' "Yuki sipped her tea, then continued her reenactment of her cross-examination of Dr. Paige."So then I make a mistake.""What did you do?""I was exasperated, Lindsay." Yuki grimaced. She raked her hair away from her lovely heart-shaped face."I said, 'So, what did the police do, exactly?' I know not to ask a question I don't have an answer to, but s.h.i.t! I've seen the d.a.m.ned interview two dozen times and you and Conklin did nothing!"And now Red Dog is glaring at me, and the shrink is saying, 'In my opinion, Miss Moon not only has bottomless low self-esteem, she feels guilty because she's a prost.i.tute and her confession was a way of reducing her guilt.'"I couldn't believe she was asking the jury to swallow that, so I said, 'So you're saying she feels guilty that she's a prost.i.tute and that's why she confessed to manslaughter?'" 'That's what I'm saying,' Paige says, so I say, 'That's all, Doctor.' And Bendinger tells her to step down, and I'm squeezing in behind Red Dog's chair, facing the gallery, and there's Tw.i.l.l.y," Yuki said."Isn't he there every day?" I asked my friend."Yeah, but now he's sitting right behind me. And I'm making eye contact with him because that's all I can do. And I hear Davis say she's calling Junie Moon to the stand, and the judge says, 'First we're going to recess for lunch.' And Red Dog pushes back his chair, pinning me chest to nose with that creep, Tw.i.l.l.y."And Tw.i.l.l.y sneers. And my stomach clenches and my skin gets cold and he whispers, 'Point, Davis.'"OmiG.o.d, and so Red Dog turns and gives me that withering look again, and I'm not going to lose this case over the testimony of that shrink, am I, Lindsay, am I? Because I'll tell you, that just can't happen.""It won't -""Right. It won't," Yuki said through her teeth, slamming her fist down on her desk. "Because the jury's going to see the truth, and they've got to come to one of two conclusions."Either Junie Moon is guilty. Or she's guilty as sin."
Chapter 79.
THE STANFORD MALL was an open-air dream market with shops grouped on narrow lanes, embedded in gardens. And what shops they were: the big stores Neiman and Nordstrom and Bloomingdale's, and the high-end boutiques Armani, Benetton, Louis Vuitton.Hawk and Pidge had taken a seat on a bench outside the Polo shop, surrounded by a small forest of potted topiary, aromas of flowers and coffee wafting all around them. It was a Sat.u.r.day, and great ma.s.ses of designer-clad shoppers were out, parading down the little walkways past Pidge and Hawk, swinging their shopping bags, stopping to admire Ralph Lauren's windows.Pidge had a video camera about the size of a deck of cards and was filming the parade. If anyone asked what he was doing, he'd tell them the truth - or part of it, anyway. He was in the computer video lab at Stanford. He was making a doc.u.mentary.But what he wouldn't say is that he and Hawk were looking for the winners. The biggest, piggiest oink-oinks of the day.They had two sets of contestants in mind.Both couples had college stickers on the rear windows of their cars. They were primo candidates. It was going to be hard to choose, but once Hawk and Pidge had agreed on the winning couple, they would follow them to where they lived and check out their home.Which one?The rich and fatty couple loaded down with bags imprinted with designer logos? Or the older, more athletic pair, dressed ostentatiously, sipping lattes as they wandered along the avenues of gluttony.Pidge was reviewing the footage when the security guard approached. He was late forties, blue uniform with a badge on his breast pocket, a hat, a gun, and a swagger. Every guy in a uniform these days thought he was a U.S. Marine."Hi, guys," the guard said affably. "You can't take pictures in here. Sign's right over there.""Ah," said Pidge. He stood. At six two he towered over the guard, so that the smaller man had to step back. "These aren't pictures. This is a movie. A doc.u.mentary for school. I can show you my student ID.""Doesn't matter that you're in school," the guard said. "For security reasons, no picture taking is allowed. Now you have to either put that thing away or I'll have to escort you out of here.""You dips.h.i.t rent-a-cop," Hawk muttered."We're sorry, sir," said Pidge, stepping in front of his friend. "We're going."But it was annoying. Hours spent doing their surveillance and now, no winner."Gotta make a pit stop," Pidge said.The two ducked into the men's facilities, and Pidge unzipped in front of a urinal. When he'd finished, Hawk took out a book of matches. He lit three or four of them together and tossed them into the waste bin.They were out in the parking lot when they heard the cry of the sirens on the freeway. They sat in Pidge's car and watched as the firefighters braked near the Frog Pond, unfurled their hoses, and streamed into the mall.Many hundreds of customers streamed out."I sure love a good fire," Hawk said."Always makes my day," said Pidge.
Part Four
HOT PROPERTY
Chapter 80.
I WAS HEADING "HOME" to Joe's apartment, battling rush-hour traffic, when my cell phone rang. I jacked the phone off my hip, heard Yuki's voice screaming my name."Lindsay! He's stalking me.""Who? Who's stalking you?""That freak! Jason Tw.i.l.l.y.""Slow down. Back up. What do you mean 'stalking'?"I jerked the wheel left at the intersection of Townsend and Seventh instead of taking a right toward my former apartment on the Hill. It felt like I was swimming against the tide.Yuki's voice was shrill. "Stalking as in haunting me, d.o.g.g.i.ng me. Ten minutes ago, he was sitting in the pa.s.senger seat of my car!""He broke into your car?""I don't know. I can't remember if I locked it. I was carrying like a fifty-pound -"The signal cut out. I hit speed dial, got Yuki's outgoing message, disconnected, tried again."Fifty-pound what?" I called into the crackle."Fifty-pound box of files. I just got my key into the door lock when this arm reached over from inside the car and pushed the door open for me.""Before this car thing, did you tell him to leave you alone?""Yes! Did I ever!""Okay, then, it's illegal for him to be inside your car," I said, negotiating a lane switch, pa.s.sing a rental car whose driver leaned on the horn and gave me the finger."You ready to swear out a complaint?" I asked Yuki. "He's going to go public. So think about it."There was a moment of static-filled silence as Yuki considered the media ramifications."This guy is sick, Linds. He talks to me like I'm a character in his book. He's twisted and maybe dangerous. He got into my car. What's next?""Okay," I said, pulling over to the curb. I took out my notepad and wrote down what Yuki had told me."You're going to have to go to civil court in the morning, get a restraining order," I said. "But effective now you've filed a police report.""Tomorrow morning? Lindsay, Jason Tw.i.l.l.y wants to scare the h.e.l.l out of me - and he's doing it!"
Chapter 81.
WHEN I REACHED Tw.i.l.l.y's suite on the fifth floor of the St. Regis Hotel, he was waiting in the doorway, a c.o.c.keyed grin on his face, his hair disheveled and shirt untucked and unb.u.t.toned. The fire exit door slammed at the end of the softly lit hallway. My guess, it was Tw.i.l.l.y's paid-by-the-hour guest leaving in a hurry.I showed Tw.i.l.l.y my badge, and he fastened his eyes on the V of my tank top, skimmed the cut of my jeans, then took a slow return trip back to my face. Meanwhile, I was taking in his amazing room - leather-textured walls, a window seat with a great view of San Francisco. Very impressive."Working undercover, Sergeant?" Tw.i.l.l.y leered.He'd scared Yuki with this act, but it enraged me."I don't think we've met, Mr. Tw.i.l.l.y. I'm Sergeant Lindsay Boxer," I said, putting out my hand. He grasped it in a handshake and I pulled his arm forward, twisted it high up behind his back, and pushed his face against the wall."Give me your other hand," I said. "Do it, now.""You're joking.""Other hand."I cuffed him, frisked him fast and rough, saying, "You're under arrest for criminal trespa.s.s. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law." When I finished informing Tw.i.l.l.y of his rights, I answered his question: "What's this about?""It's about your illegal entry into ADA Yuki Castellano's car. She's filed a police report, and by noon tomorrow she'll have a restraining order against you.""Whoa, whoa! This is the biggest deal about nothing I've ever heard. Her arms were full! I opened her car door to help her!""Tell it to your lawyer," I snapped. I had one hand on Tw.i.l.l.y's arm, my cell phone in my other, and was about to call for backup."Wait a minute," he said. "Is Yuki claiming that I'm hara.s.sing her? Because that's c.r.a.p. I admit I provoked her a little, applied a little pressure just to get her going. I'm a journalist. We do that. Look. If I made a mistake, I'm sorry. Can we talk? Please?"I'd checked Tw.i.l.l.y out, and his record was clean. I had a moment of free fall as my anger evaporated. A stern warning would have been appropriate. Now that I'd cuffed him - that media flap Cindy had warned Yuki about?It was going to go down.I could already see Tw.i.l.l.y spinning this "bust" to Larry King, Tucker Carlson, Access Hollywood. It would be bad news for Yuki, bad for me, but it would be stupendous publicity for Tw.i.l.l.y."Sergeant?"I had to hit rewind. I had to try."You want to avoid a court appearance, Mr. Tw.i.l.l.y? Leave Yuki Castellano alone. Don't sit behind her in court. Don't tail her in supermarkets. Don't enter her car or premises, and we'll put this incident aside."Yuki files another complaint? I'm taking you in. Are we clear?""Totally," he said. "Crystal.""Good."I unlocked the cuffs and started to leave."Wait!" Tw.i.l.l.y said. He stepped into the other room, with its aqua-striped wallpaper and canopied bed. He s.n.a.t.c.hed a pen and pad from the bowlegged writing desk and said, "I want to make sure I got this right."He scribbled notes, then recited my speech back to me, verbatim."That was really excellent stuff you just said, Sergeant. Who do you think should play you in the movie?"He was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with me.I left Tw.i.l.l.y's suite feeling as though I'd been smacked in the face with a s.h.i.t pie - and I'd done it to myself. d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l. Maybe I'd jammed myself up, and maybe I was wrong to cuff him, but it didn't mean that Jason Tw.i.l.l.y wasn't crazy.And it didn't mean he wasn't dangerous.
Chapter 82.
JOE AND I had a takeout dinner from Le Soleil and were in bed by ten. My eyes flew open at exactly 3:04, the digits projected on the ceiling keeping track of the time as my sickening night thoughts churned.An image of Tw.i.l.l.y's sneer had awakened me, but his face dissolved, and in its place I saw the burned and twisted corpses on Claire's table. And I remembered the dulled eyes of a young girl who'd been orphaned by a nameless teenage boy who might now be lying awake in his bed, planning another horror show.How many more people would die before we found him?Or would he beat us at this sick game?I thought of the fire that had consumed my home, my possessions, my sense of security. And I thought about Joe, how much I loved Joe. I'd wanted him to move to San Francisco so that we could make a life together - and we were doing it through thick and thin. Why couldn't I take him up on that big Italian wedding he'd proposed and maybe start a family?I would be thirty-nine in a few months.What was I waiting for?I listened to Joe's breathing, and in a while my rapid nightmare heart thuds slowed and I started drifting off. I turned away from Joe, gripped a pillow in my arms - and the mattress shifted as Joe turned toward me. He enfolded me in his arms, tucked his knees up behind mine."Bad dream?" he asked me."Uh-huh," I said. "I forget the dream, but when I woke up, I thought about a lot of dead people.""Dead people in general? Or real dead people?""Real ones," I said."Want to talk about it?""I would - but they've slunk back to the pit they came from. Hey, I'm sorry, Joe. I didn't mean to wake you up.""It's okay. Try to sleep."It took a second to understand that that was a dare.Joe moved my hair away from the back of my neck and kissed me there. I gasped, shocked at the charge that his soft kiss sent through my body.I hadn't expected to feel this tonight.I rolled over, looked into Joe's face, saw the glint of his smile by the soft blue light of the clock. I put my hands on his face and kissed him hard, searching for an answer I couldn't find inside myself. He reached his arms around me, but I pushed them away."No," I said. "Let me."I put all of my tormenting thoughts aside. I tugged off Joe's boxers, interlaced my fingers through his, pressed his hands against the pillows. He moaned as I lowered myself onto him and then I eased off, kissed him until he went crazy. Then I rode him, rode him, rode him, until he couldn't wait another second - and neither could I. There was the undeniable pull of the undertow, before I was released by great cascading waves of pleasure.I collapsed onto Joe's chest, my knees still on either side of his body, my cheek resting over his pounding heart. He stroked my back and I told him I loved him. I remember him kissing my forehead, pulling the blanket up over my shoulders as I drifted off with him still inside me.Oh, my G.o.d.It was just so good with Joe.
Chapter 83.
YUKI STUDIED JUNIE MOON as she was sworn in by the bailiff.Defendants weren't required to testify. It couldn't be held against them if they didn't, and it rarely helped when they did. So it was very risky to put your client on the stand. No matter how well rehea.r.s.ed, there was no way to know if your client was going to go rogue, or get fl.u.s.tered, or laugh at the wrong time, or in some unique way prejudice the jury against her.But Davis was putting Junie Moon on the stand. And the citizens of San Francisco and trial watchers across the country were dying to hear what she would say. Junie's white blouse hung from her shoulders and her plain blue skirt billowed around her calves. She'd lost weight in jail - a lot of it - and when Junie raised her right hand to take the oath, Yuki saw vivid bruising on her forearm.Spectators gasped and murmured. And now Yuki understood why Davis had risked everything she'd gained to have her client testify. Junie looked nothing like a wh.o.r.e and a ghoul.She looked like a victim.Junie swore to tell the truth, stepped up to the witness stand, and sat with her hands in her lap, smiling trustingly as Davis approached."How are you doing?" Davis asked."In jail, you mean?""Yes. Are you doing okay?""Yes, ma'am. I'm fine."Davis nodded, said, "Good. And how old are you, Junie?""I'll be twenty-three next month.""And when did you start turning tricks?" Davis asked."When I was fourteen," Junie said softly."And how did that come about?""My stepdad turned me out.""Do you mean that your stepfather prost.i.tuted you? That he was your pimp?""I guess you could call him that. He was having s.e.x with me from the time I was about twelve. Later on, he brought his friends over and they had s.e.x with me, too.""Did you ever report your stepfather for rape or child abuse, anything like that?""No, ma'am. He said it was how I paid my rent.""Is your stepfather here today?""No. He died three years ago.""And your mother? Where is she?""She's doing time. For dealing.""I see," Davis said. "So, Junie, you're a bright enough girl. Did you really have to be a prost.i.tute? Couldn't you have gotten a job in a restaurant or a department store? Maybe worked in an office?"Junie cleared her throat, said quietly, "Doing s.e.x is the only thing I've ever known, and I don't really mind. It's like, for a little time every day, I feel close to someone.""Having s.e.x with strangers makes you feel close?"Junie smiled. "I know it's not real, but it makes me feel good for a while."Davis paused to let the tragedy of the vulnerable young woman's story wash over the jury. Then she said, "Junie, please tell the jury: Did you ever have s.e.x with Michael Campion?""No, I did not. Absolutely never!""So why did you tell the police that you did?""I guess I wanted to please them, so I told them what they wanted to hear. I . . . that's the kind of person I am.""Thank you, Junie. Your witness," Davis said.
Chapter 84.
YUKI HAD A THOUGHT. It was stark, simple, irrefutable.When Junie took the stand in her own defense, she had come across so frail and so helpless, it would be best for Yuki to say, "I have no questions," get the woman off the stand. Then tear her apart in summation.Nicky Gaines pa.s.sed Yuki a note from Red Dog. She read it as Judge Bendinger snapped the rubber band on his wrist impatiently, then said, "Ms. Castellano? Are you planning to cross?"Parisi's note was short. Three words. "Go get her."Yuki shook her head no, whispered across Gaines to Parisi, "We should take a pa.s.s."Parisi scowled, said, "Want me to do it?"So much for irrefutable. Red Dog had spoken. Yuki stood, picked up the photocopy of the acknowledgment of rights form, and walked toward the witness stand."Ms. Moon," Yuki said without preamble, "this is an acknowledgment of rights form. Do you remember it?""Yes, I think so.""And you can read and write, can't you?""Yes, I can.""Okay, then. This form was presented to you by Sergeant Lindsay Boxer and Inspector Richard Conklin when you were interviewed at the police station on April nineteenth."It says here, 'Before we ask you any questions you must understand your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.' And here's a set of initials. Are they yours?"Junie peered at the doc.u.ment, said, "Yes."Yuki read the entire form, stopping at each point to fire the question at Junie: "Did you understand this? Are these your initials?" Bang, bang, bang.And after each question, Junie scrutinized the paper and said, "Yes.""And here at the bottom is a waiver of rights. It says that you understand your rights, that you don't want a lawyer, that no threats have been made against you, that you weren't coerced. Did you sign this?""Yes, ma'am, I did.""And did you tell the police that Michael Campion died in your house and that you disposed of his body?""Yes.""Did you feel tricked or intimidated by the police?""No."Yuki walked to the prosecution table, put down the form, collected a nod from Parisi, and turned back to the defendant."Why did you make this confession?""I wanted to help the police.""I'm confused, Ms. Moon. You wanted to help them. So first you said you never met Mr. Campion. Then you said he died in your arms. Then you said you left his body parts in a Dumpster. Then you said you made up the story to please the police - because that's the kind of person you are."Ms. Moon. Which lie do you want us to believe?"Junie shot a startled look to her attorney, then stared at Yuki, stuttered incoherently, her lips quivering, tears sliding down her pale face, before choking out, "I'm sorry. I don't know . . . I don't know what to say."A woman's voice sounded out from the gallery, directly behind the defense table. "STOP!"Yuki turned toward the voice, as did every other person in the courtroom. The speaker was Valentina Campion, wife of the former governor, mother of the dead boy. She was standing, resting a hand on her husband's shoulder for support.Yuki felt her blood drain to her feet."I can't stand what she's doing to that poor child," Valentina Campion said to her husband. Then she edged past him to the aisle, and as two hundred people swiveled in their seats to watch her, Mrs. Campion exited the courtroom.
Chapter 85.
YUKI HAD SPENT THE NIGHT flopping like a beached tuna, and she was still sweating this morning, thinking how first she'd been sandbagged by her fricking boss. And then Valentina Campion had thrown her under an eighteen-wheeler!People bond during trials, Yuki knew that, and strange attachments were made. But Mrs. Campion protecting the defendant? That was crazy! Didn't she realize that Yuki was on her side? That she was trying to do the right thing by her son?Now the buzz in the courtroom grew as spectators and reporters watched L. Diana Davis take her seat. Davis looked smug, Yuki thinking that her opponent must've gotten drunk last night on self-congratulation.Junie Moon was escorted into the courtroom. Davis stood, sat when her client sat, and immediately after they were both seated, the bailiff called out, "All rise."There was a m.u.f.fled whoosh of people standing as the judge limped to the bench. The jury filed in, dropped their bags, settled into their seats. Judge Bendinger spoke to the jury, reminded them of his instructions. Then he asked Yuki if she was ready to give her summation, and she said that she was.But she wasn't sure.She gathered her notes, stood tall in her Jimmy Choos, and walked to the lectern. She put her notes in front of her and blocked out everyone but the jury. She ignored Parisi's placid bulk, Tw.i.l.l.y's mocking smile, Davis's hauteur, and the defendant's pathetic fragility. She even looked past Cindy, who gave her a thumbs-up from the back row.Yuki stood a poster-sized photo of Michael Campion on the easel, turned it so it faced the jury. She paused to let everyone see the face of the boy who was so beloved that citizens of the world included him in their prayers at night.Yuki wanted to be sure the jury understood that this trial was about Michael Campion's death, not the sad story of the prost.i.tute who'd let him die.Yuki put her hands on the sides of the lectern and began to speak from her heart.
Chapter 86.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, Junie Moon is a prost.i.tute," Yuki said. "She's in violation of the law every time she works, and her clientele is made up largely of schoolboys below the age of consent. But we don't hold the defendant less credible because of what she does for a living. Ms. Moon has her reasons - and that doesn't make her guilty of the charges against her."So, please judge her as you would anybody else. We're all equal under the law. That's the way our system works."Ms. Moon is charged with tampering with evidence and with murder in the second degree."In my opening statement, I told you that in order to prove murder, we have to prove malice. That is, that the person acted in such a way as we can construe them to have had 'an abandoned and malignant heart.'"What does an abandoned and malignant heart look like?"Ms. Moon told the police that she ignored Michael Campion's pleas for help, she let him die, and then she covered up this crime by dismembering and disposing of that young man's body."Could any of you cut up a person's body?" Yuki asked. "Can you imagine what's involved in dismembering a human being? I have a hard time cutting up a chicken. What would it take to dismember a person who was living and breathing and speaking only hours before - someone who was sharing your bed?"What kind of soul, what kind of character, what kind of person, what kind of heart, would it take to do that?"Wouldn't that behavior define an abandoned and malignant heart?"The defendant made this confession when she thought she was off the record and in the clear. But Junie Moon got it wrong. A confession is a confession, ladies and gentlemen, on tape or off. It's as simple as that. She made an admission of guilt, and we're holding her to it."Now, the People have the burden of proving our case beyond a reasonable doubt. So if you can't answer every question in your mind, that's normal. That's human. That's why your charge is to find the defendant guilty beyond reasonable doubt - but not beyond all doubt."Yuki's voice was throbbing in her throat when she said, "We don't know where Michael Campion's body is. All we know is the last person to see him is sitting in that chair."Junie Moon confessed again and again and again."And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all you need to find her guilty and to give justice to Michael Campion and his family."
Chapter 87.
NO ONE HAD YET DISCOVERED what the L. stood for in L. Diana Davis. Some said it was something exotic; Lorelei or Let.i.tia. Some said that Davis had stuck the initial in front of her name to add mystique.Yuki guessed the L. stood for "lethal."Davis was wearing Chanel for her closing argument: a pink suit with black trim, calling up memories of Jackie Kennedy, although there was nothing of the former president's wife in Davis's strident voice."Ladies and gentlemen. You remember what I asked in my opening statement," she demanded rather than asked. "Where's the beef? And that's the bottom line here. Where's the body? Where's the DNA? Where's the confession? Where's the proof in this case?"The prosecution is trying to convince us that a person confesses to a crime and the police have her in custody and they don't record her confession - and that doesn't mean anything? They say that there's no blood evidence and no body - and that doesn't mean anything either?"I'm sorry, folks, but something is wrong here," Davis said, her hands on the railing of the jury box."Something is very wrong."Dr. Paige, a distinguished psychiatrist, got on the stand and said that in her opinion, Junie Moon falsely confessed because her self-esteem is so low it's off the charts, and that Ms. Moon wanted to please the police. She also said that in her opinion, Ms. Moon feels guilty about being a prost.i.tute and so she confessed to discharge some of that guilt."Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you the dirty little secret about false confessions. Every time a major crime is committed, false confessions pour into the hotlines. Hundreds of people confessed to the Lindbergh baby kidnapping. Dozens of people told police they killed the Black Dahlia. Maybe you remember when John Mark Karr caused an international brouhaha by confessing to the murder of JonBenet Ramsey ten years after her death."He didn't do it."People confess to crimes when they've been cleared by DNA evidence. Go figure. People confess for reasons you and I would find hard to understand, but it's the role of a good investigator to separate false confessions from real ones."Junie Moon's confession was false."The absence of evidence in this case is remarkable. If the name of the so-called victim was Joe Blow, there probably wouldn't have been an indictment, let alone a trial. But Michael Campion is a political celebrity and Ms. Moon is at the bottom of the social totem pole."It's showtime!"But this isn't s...o...b..z Tonight, ladies and gentlemen. This is a court of lawwww," Davis trumpeted. "So we're asking you to use your common sense as well as the facts in evidence. If you do that, you can only find Junie Moon not guilty of the charges against her, period."
Chapter 88.
IT WAS AFTER SEVEN when I got to Susie's. The patrons at the bar had achieved a high degree of merriment. I didn't recognize the plinky tune the steel band was playing, but it was all about sun and the sparkly Caribbean Sea.Made me want to move to Jamaica and open a dive shop with Joe. Drink pa.s.sion fruit mai tais and grill fish on the beach.I reached our table in the back room as Lorraine was clearing away a plate of chicken bones. She took my order for a Corona and dropped off the menu. Claire was taking up one side of our booth, what she called "sitting for two," while Cindy and Yuki sat across from her - Yuki pressed up against the wall as if she'd been smushed there like a bug.It looked like she'd lost a fight.I dragged up a chair, said, "What'd I miss?""Yuki gave a great closing argument," Cindy said, and then Yuki broke in."But Davis obliterated it!""You are nuts. You got the final d.a.m.ned word, Yuki," Cindy said. "You nailed it."I didn't have to beg. As soon as we ordered dinner, Yuki launched into her impeccable L. Diana Davis impression, screaming, "Where's the beef? Where's the beef?"When Yuki paused for breath, Cindy said, "Do your reb.u.t.tal, Yuki. Do it like you mean it."Yuki laughed a little hysterically, wiped tears from her eyes with a napkin, downed her margarita - a drink she could barely handle on a good day. And then she belched."I hate waiting for a verdict," she said.We all laughed, Cindy egging Yuki on until she said, "Okay." And then she was into it, eyes glistening, hands gesturing, the whole Yuki deal."I said, 'Was a crime committed? Well, ladies and gentlemen, there's a reason the defendant is here. She was indicted by a grand jury and not because of her relative social standing to the deceased. The police didn't throw a dart at a phone book." 'Junie Moon didn't call the police and make a false confession." 'The police developed information that led them to the last person to see Michael Campion. That person was Junie Moon - and she admitted it.' ""That's gooood, sugar," Claire murmured.Yuki smiled, continued on. " 'We don't have Michael Campion's body, but in all the months since he saw Ms. Moon, he has never called home, never used his credit card, his cell phone, or sent an e-mail to his parents or friends to say he's all right." 'Michael wouldn't do that. That's not the kind of boy he was. So where is Michael Campion? Junie Moon told us. He died. He was dismembered. And his body was dumped in the garbage. She did it." 'Period.' ""See?" Cindy said, grinning. "She totally nailed it."
Chapter 89.
CLAIRE AND I were sitting up in her bed that night after our outing at Susie's, having a two-girl pajama party. Edmund was on tour with the San Francisco Symphony, and Claire had said, "I really, really don't want to go into labor here all by myself alone, girlfriend."I looked over at her, lying in the huge divot she'd made in her memory-foam mattress with her rotund 260 pounds."I can't get any bigger," she said. "It's not possible. I wasn't this big with two boys, so how can this little girl-child turn me into the blimp that ate the planet?"I laughed, thinking it was possible that when she'd had her first baby twenty years ago, she was a few sizes smaller than when she'd conceived Ruby Rose, but I didn't say so."What can I get you?" I asked."Anything in the freezer compartment," Claire said."Copy that," I said, grinning at her. I returned with a carton of Chunky Monkey and two spoons, climbed back into the bed, saying, "It's cruel to call an ice cream Chunky Monkey when that's what it turns you into."Claire cackled, pried off the lid, and as we took turns dipping our spoons in, she said to me, "So how's it going with you and Joe?""What do you mean?""Living together, you idiot. Are you thinking of getting seriously hooked up? As in married?""I like the way you kind of edge into a subject.""h.e.l.l. You're not such a subtle creature yourself."I tipped my spoon in her direction - touche, my friend - then I started talking. Claire knew most of it: about my failed marriage, about my love affair with Chris, who'd been shot dead in the line of duty. And I talked about my sister, Cat, divorced with two young kids, holding down a big job, and having a bitter relationship with her ex."Then I look at you, b.u.t.terfly," I said. "In your grown-up four-bedroom house. And you have your darling husband, two great kids off into the world, and now you have the guts and love enough to make another baby.""So where are you in all this, sugar?" Claire said. "You going to let Joe make the decision you don't love him enough to marry him? Let some other girl make off with Joe, the perfect man?"I threw myself back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling. I thought about the Job, about working with Rich seventeen hours a day and loving that. How little time I had for anything but work; hadn't done Tai Chi in ages, stopped playing the guitar, even turned the nightly run with Martha over to Joe.I put my mind on how different it would all be if I were married and had a baby, if there were people who worried about me every time I left the house. And d.a.m.n - what if I got shot?And then I considered the alternative.Did I really want to be alone?I was about to run all this by Claire, but I'd been quiet for so long, my best friend picked that moment to jump in."You'll figure it out, sweetheart," she said, capping the empty ice-cream container, resting her spoon in a Limoges saucer on the nightstand. "You'll work on it and then, snap. You'll just know what's right for you."Would I?How could Claire be so sure, when I was without a clue in the world?
Chapter 90.
ONLY THREE BLOCKS from the Hall, Le Fleur du Jour is a popular morning hangout for cops. At 6:30 a.m. the smell of freshly baked bread made noses quiver up and down the flower market. Joe, Conklin, and I were at one of the little tables on the patio with a view of the flower stalls in the alley. Having never been with Joe and Conklin together, I felt an uneasiness I would have hated to explain.Joe was telling Conklin some of his thoughts about the arson-homicide cases, saying he agreed with us, that one person couldn't have subdued the victims alone."These kids are show-offy smart," Joe said. "Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum videtur.""And that means what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Did everyone know Latin but me?Joe flashed me a grin. "It means, 'Anything said in Latin sounds profound.' "Conklin nodded, his brown eyes sober this morning. I'd seen this precise look when he interrogated a suspect. He was taking in everything about Joe, and maybe hoping that my boyfriend with his high-level career in law enforcement might actually have a theory.Or better yet, Joe might turn out to be a jerk.No doubt, Joe was appraising Richie, too."They're definitely smart," Conklin said, "maybe a little smarter than we are.""You know about Leopold and Loeb?" Joe asked, sitting back as the waiter put strawberry pancakes in front of him. The waiter walked around the table distributing eggs Benedict to me and to Conklin."I've heard their names," Conklin said."Well, in 1924," Joe said, "two smart and show-offy kids who were also privileged and sociopathic decided to kill someone as an intellectual exercise. Just to see if they could get away with it."Joe had our attention."Leopold had an IQ that went off the charts at around 200," Joe said, "and Loeb's IQ was at least 160. They picked out a schoolboy at random and murdered him. But with all their brilliance they made some dumb mistakes.""So you're thinking our guys could have a similar motive. Just to see if they could get away with it?""Has the same kind of feel.""Crime TV has been educational for this generation of bad guys," Conklin said. "They pick up their cigarette b.u.t.ts and sh.e.l.l casings. . . . Our guys have been pretty careful. The clues we're finding are the ones they're leaving on purpose."Right about then, I stopped listening and just watched body language. Joe, directing everything to Conklin, coming on a little too strong. Conklin, deferring without being deferential. I was so attached to them both, I turned my head from one to another as if I were courtside at Wimbledon.Blue eyes. Brown eyes. My lover. My partner.I pushed my eggs to the side of my plate.For probably the first time in my life, I had nothing to say.
Chapter 91.
YUKI SAT AT the prosecution table between Nicky Gaines and Len Parisi, waiting for court to convene. It was Friday. The jurors had deliberated for three days, and word had come down late last night that they'd arrived at their verdict. Yuki wondered if the jurors had rushed their decision so they could have a weekend free of responsibility and tension. And if so, would that be good or bad for the People?She felt overcaffeinated because she was. She'd been swigging coffee since six this morning and hadn't slept more than two hours the night before."You okay?" she asked her second chair. Nicky was breathing through his mouth, the odor of VapoRub coming off him in waves."I'm good," he said. "You?""Peachy."To Yuki's right, Red Dog was writing a memo on a legal pad. He appeared blase, carefree, a mountain of calm. It was an act. In fact, Parisi was a volcano resting between explosions. Across the aisle, L. Diana Davis looked fresh, powdered, and coiffed. She put a mothering arm around her client's frail shoulders.And then, at nine on the dot, the bailiff, a sinewy man in a green uniform, called out, "All rise." Yuki stood, then sat back down as the judge took the bench. Nicky coughed into his handkerchief. Parisi capped his pen and put it in his breast pocket. Yuki clasped her hands in front of her, swung her head to the right as the door to the jury room opened and the jurors entered the courtroom.The twelve men and women were wearing church clothes today, hair combed and sprayed into place, men in jacket and tie, the women sparkling with jewelry.The foreperson, a woman named Maria Martinez, was about thirty, Yuki's age, a sociology teacher and mother of two. Yuki couldn't see Martinez coming out in favor of a prost.i.tute who would let a boy die, then cover up the fact with a body dump.Martinez put her handbag on the floor next to her chair.Yuki felt a p.r.i.c.kling sensation on the back of her neck and her arms as Judge Bendinger opened his laptop, made a joke to the court reporter that Yuki couldn't hear. Then he swiveled his chair face-forward and said, "Order, please."The room quieted, and Bendinger asked if the jury had a verdict.Martinez said, "We do, Your Honor."The verdict form moved from Martinez to the judge and back again to Martinez. Nicky Gaines coughed again, and Parisi reached behind Yuki and flicked Gaines on the back of his head, frowned a rebuke."Will the foreman please read the verdict?" Bendinger asked. Martinez stood, looking small in her charcoal-gray suit. She cleared her throat."We, the jury, find the defendant, Junie Moon, not guilty in the charge of murder in the second degree."We find the defendant, Junie Moon, not guilty in the charge of tampering with evidence . . ."The packed courtroom erupted in loud exclamations punctuated by the sharp slams of Bendinger's gavel."What did she say? What did she say?" Gaines asked Yuki, even as the judge thanked the jury and dismissed them.Yuki felt sick, physically ill. She'd lost. She'd lost, and she'd let everyone down - the police, the DA's office, the Campions, and even Michael. Her job and her pa.s.sion had been to get justice for the dead boy, and she'd failed."I shouldn't be doing this kind of work," Yuki said to herself. She stood abruptly.Without speaking to Parisi or Gaines, she turned around and said to the Campions, "I'm very sorry."Lowering her eyes, Yuki pushed her way into the crowded aisle and left the courtroom.
Chapter 92.
YUKI SAW Tw.i.l.l.y RISE from his seat in the gallery and move to follow her out of the courtroom and into the hallway, that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. She worked her way through the knots of people in the corridor, shoved open the door to the ladies' room, found an empty stall, and locked it. She sat with her head in her hands for long minutes, then went to a sink, washed her face, and slipped on her sungla.s.ses.Once back in the hallway, she headed for the fire exit, heart still knocking inside her chest as she walked quickly down the staircase, her mind circling the verdict, still shocked that the jury had found Junie Moon not guilty. The public would go berserk when they learned that Junie Moon was going to get out of jail free. They'd blame the verdict on her, and they'd be right to do it.It was her case and she'd lost.Yuki opened the door into the lobby and, with her head down, walked out of the gray cubical building into the equally gray morning. Len Parisi was on the top step of the courthouse, standing like a red-haired sequoia inside a clump of journalists who were reaching their mics and cameras forward, shouting questions.She saw star TV reporters, Anderson Cooper and Rita Cosby, Diane Dimond and Beth Karas. Cameras rolled as Parisi told the press whatever politically correct blah-di-blah a public servant with a coronary in his history and probably another one in his future would say.Fifty feet away from Parisi, three steps down, Maria Martinez and several of the jurors were also surrounded by reporters.Yuki heard Martinez say, "We were overwhelmed with reasonable doubt." And then the video cameras shifted as L. Diana Davis exited the big steel-and-gla.s.s double doors with her arm still sheltering Junie Moon.Yuki ran down the remaining steps to the street. She saw Connor Campion and his wife at the curb, Campion's driver holding open the door to a Lincoln sedan. Jason Tw.i.l.l.y was standing beside Campion, the two men deep in conversation as Yuki pa.s.sed.Yuki crossed Bryant against the light, eyes focused on the All Day parking lot, glad to be invisible in the morning crush of pedestrians, especially relieved that Tw.i.l.l.y was busy with a bigger fish than she. Keys in hand, she found her Acura toward the back of the lot.She heard someone call her name. She turned with a scowl, saw that Jason Tw.i.l.l.y was coming toward her, his dark jacket flying open like the wings of a vulture."Yuki! Hang on."Jason Tw.i.l.l.y was following her again!
Chapter 93.
YUKI JAMMED THE CAR KEY into the key slot, heard the soft thwick as the locks opened."Yuki, wait."She turned again, one hand clutching the strap of her handbag, the other clenched around the handle of her briefcase."I've got nothing to say to you, Jason. Go away."Tw.i.l.l.y scowled, his expression murderous, the look of a man who could go violently out of control."You listen to me, little girl," Tw.i.l.l.y said. "Be glad that you lost, because Junie Moon didn't kill Michael Campion. But I know who did."What? What had he said?"Look at me, Yuki. Look at me. Maybe it was me."Yuki got behind the wheel and yanked the door shut in Tw.i.l.l.y's face. Tw.i.l.l.y bent down, rapped on her window, bap-bap-bap, losing it, desperate, yelling through the gla.s.s, "We've got unfinished business, Yuki. Don't drive away!"Yuki threw the car into gear, jammed down the accelerator, and with tires squealing, she left the lot. She called Lindsay from the car, her voice shrill over the sound of traffic."Jason Tw.i.l.l.y just told me he knows who killed Michael Campion, Lindsay, but he wants me to think that he did it. That he killed Michael. Lindsay! Maybe he did."Tw.i.l.l.y's rented Mercedes was in her rearview mirror as Yuki circled the block. She ran a red light, took a sudden turn into an alley - and when she was sure she was no longer being followed, she parked in a fire zone outside the Hall.She flashed her ID at the security guard, ran through the metal detectors, then took the stairs to the squad room on the third floor. She was panting when she found Lindsay waiting for her at the gate."Don't worry," Lindsay told her. "I've got your back."
Chapter 94.