A Death In Beverly Hills (36 page)

Furley paused, waiting for Hamilton to object but the D.A. knew that that horse was already out that barn.

"A third strike would get him a minimum of twenty-five years in prison," Furley said finally.

"Twenty-five years," Markham repeated looking at the jury. "What was Mr. McGee's sentence on the drug charge?"

"One year in the county jail."

"When did he get out?"

"October or November over a year ago."

"Only a month or two before Marian Travis disappeared?"

"Yes."

That iceberg's getting bigger, isn't it, Ted
, Markham thought to himself.

"No more questions."

"Detective," Hamilton began, "is it common for people to be upset when they're arrested?"

"Yes sir."

"Is it common that they shout and say all sorts of wild things?"

"Yes sir."

"And do they usually calm down after a day or two?"

"Yes sir."

"Did you take anything Mr. McGee said at the time of his arrest seriously?"

"No sir. Like you said, that sort of thing is common."

"You heard Mr. McGee's testimony?"

"Yes sir."

"Did it appear to you that he had gotten over his irritation with Mr. Travis?"

"Objection. Speculation."

"Sustained," the judge said, giving Hamilton a 'you know better than that' look.

"No further questions."

Burris looked at the clock, a little after eleven. "Mr. Markham, would you like a recess before you call your next witness?"

"No, Your Honor. I'd like to keep going."

Burris gave Markham a long deep stare. What a difference a day makes. "Very well. Call your next witness."

"The Defense calls Eleanor Roberts."

Who the Hell is she and where the Hell are these people coming from?
Hamilton asked himself.

Wearing a Harry Winston diamond necklace and a blue silk dress chosen to match her Bentley, Eleanor Roberts marched regally to the stand.

She quickly gave her name and address and listed her occupation as philanthropist which got a raised eyebrow from the D.A..

"Your house is almost across the street from Mr. Travis's home?"

"Yes, across and three houses down."

"Is he a good neighbor?"

"A lovely man." Eleanor favored Travis with a warm smile.

"Do you raise flowers in your front yard?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you spend a fair amount of time in your front yard, attending to your plants?"

"They take a lot of care."

"Turning your attention to the day we believe Marian Travis was killed, December 31
st
a year ago, were you in your front yard that morning around eleven a.m.?"

"Yes, I was."

"Did you see any strange vehicles on your street that morning?"

"Yes, a black van. It had a plastic sign on the side that said Sunshine Pools."

"Did you tell this to the police?"

"Yes, I did."

"Your honor, I have here a copy of the Field Interview Report of Detective Hutchenson memorializing his interview with Mrs. Roberts. I would ask that it be admitted into evidence."

"I'm sure the People have no objection, do they, Mr. Hamilton?"

Technically it was hearsay but the way things were going Hamilton didn't know what Hutchinson was going to say if Markham put him on the stand so maybe it was safer to just stick with the written report. He could always call the Detective as a rebuttal witness if he needed to.

"No, Your Honor."

"Ms. Roberts, did you observe anything else about this black van?"

"Yes, it had a dent in the front bumper on the driver's side."

"Did you tell this to Detective Hutchenson?"

"No. He didn't ask me what else I saw. He seemed to be in a hurry and, quite frankly, he didn't seem to think much of me."

"In what way?"

"He treated me like I was a senile old busybody who was wasting his time."

"Clearly, he was wrong," Markham said, looking at the jury. "How's your eyesight?"

"I can see things far away perfectly. Up close, I need glasses. Do you want to hold up a sign at the back of the court room and have me read it for you?"

"That won't be necessary." Markham walked to the defense table and accepted two manila envelopes from his assistant. One he handed to Ted Hamilton. The contents of the second one he handed to the clerk. "Please mark these for identification only." A moment later she handed them back, numbered, and he slowly approached the witness. Hamilton shook out his own set of four 8 X 10 color photos.

Here's your iceberg
,
Ted
.

"I am handing you Defense's eighteen through twenty-one for identification. They appear to be photographs of a black van. Will you look at them please." Markham handed her the pictures.

"Your Honor . . . ." Hamilton began, rising to his feet.

"All in good time, Mr. Hamilton."

Markham ignored the interruption. "Ms. Roberts," Markham said, his voice slowly rising, "I ask you, do you recognize the black van depicted in these photographs?"

"Yes, I do."

"Why do you recognize it?"

"That is the same black van I saw on my street on the day that Mrs. Travis went missing."

"The same van," Markham said, staring at the jury. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. There's the dent in the front bumper, just like I testified."

"What about the sign?"

"Obviously, it's been removed. It was only one of those stick-on plastic signs. You see them on trucks all the time."

"Thank you, Ms. Roberts. No further questions."

That shudder you just felt
,
Ted
,
was your case hitting the iceberg
, Markham thought to himself. In the audience Simon Katz's face went bone white. He too had felt the collision.

"Mrs. Roberts," Hamilton began in a rush. "Whose van is that?"

"I have no idea."

"You don't know?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"How did Mr. Markham get these pictures?"

"However would I know that? You need to ask him."

"Who else knew about the dent in the front bumper?"

"No one."

"You didn't tell Mr. Markham or one of his associates?"

Mrs. Roberts laughed. "Mr. Janson was just as surprised as you were when I pointed it out to him last week. Until I pointed to it in that picture, Mr. Janson didn't have a clue."

At the mention of Janson's discovery of the black van a river of acid poured into Katz's stomach.

"Do you," Hamilton began, then stopped. "No further questions. However, the People object to the Defense failing to inform the people of the discovery of this van last week."

"Your Honor--"

"We'll discuss this outside of the presence of the jury. It being almost noon . . . ."

"If the court please. The defense has one very short witness who's been waiting all morning. I can have him on and off the stand in five minutes. Then the jury can go to lunch and we can deal with the People's discovery concerns."

Burris gave Markham a penetrating stare. The defense lawyer was flushed and sweating, frightened or desperate. "All right," Burris said reluctantly, looking at the clock.

"The Defense calls Frank DiFrancisco."

"Who the Hell is he?" Hamilton barked at his assistant. Upset, she tore through Markham's witness list. "The Defense added him right after we added Barry McGee. He's the manager for Sunshine Pools," she said a moment later.

"Shit!" Hamilton hissed under his breath.

"Mr. DiFrancisco, you were the manager of the Sunset Pool Service on December 31
st
when Ms. Marian Travis went missing?"

"Yes, I was."

"Did the Sunset Pool Service have a fleet of vans that it used at that time?"

"Yes."

"Did it have a service call scheduled for the vicinity of Mr. Travis's home in the seven hundred block of North Rexford Drive, Beverly Hills, on that day?"

"Yes, we did."

"So a Sunshine Pool Service van was in Mr. Travis's neighborhood on that day?"

"Yes."

"About what time?"

DiFrancisco opened a file and checked an invoice. "Between twelve-thirty and one-fifteen."

"Not at eleven o'clock?"

Another look at the folder. "No sir."

"On that date, what color were the Sunshine Pool Service vans."

"White with blue script lettering."

Katz felt as if his heart had just been removed leaving a hollow cavity in his chest.

"By 'lettering' you mean the name 'Sunset Pool Service' and the phone number?"

"Yes."

"Was the company name glued to the side of the vans on a plastic sign?"

"No, it was painted on in blue script letters."

"Did you have any black vans at that time?"

"Not then, not now."

Markham had a photo marked and showed it to DiFrancisco.

"Is this a fair and accurate picture of what your service vans looked like when Ms. Travis disappeared?"

DiFrancisco glanced at the picture and nodded. "That's typical of our vans."

"How about this one, showing you Defense 19 for identification."

"It's black," the witness said.

"It's not one of yours?"

"No way. We don't use black vans. Never have. Never will." DiFranscico handed the picture back as if it were tainted.

"I'm done," Markham announced.

"Mr. Hamilton?"

"No questions," the D.A. said in a feigned bored voice.

Judge Burris looked at the clock. "Since it is now five minutes after twelve," he said pointedly, "we will adjourn until one-thirty. Counsel will meet in my chambers to discuss discovery issues." Burris twocked his gavel leaving Ted Hamilton to ponder what further surprises Markham had up his sleeve.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Steve checked the benches lining the hallway outside the courtroom and spotted Barry McGee who gave him an evil smile and a wave. Obviously McGee didn't know they were on to him. Steve made sure that Delfina was seated at the other end of the hall. At one thirty five on Tuesday afternoon the Bailiff opened the door and called out: "Delfina Angelinez."

Delfina swallowed hard and looked like she was going to faint. Steve helped her to her feet and whispered that everything would be fine. A few moments later she placed a trembling hand on the bible and squeaked out a tiny "I do."

Smarting from a tongue lashing and two thousand dollar fine for failing to immediately disclose the discovery of the black van to the Prosecution, Markham turned toward the witness.

"Ms. Angelinez, how long have you worked for Tom Travis?"

"Diaz, uhhh, ten years."

"Did Mr. Travis give you a set of keys to the house?"

"Yes," she answered in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Please speak up, Ms. Angelinez," Burris instructed Delfina, frightening her even more.

"Was this a key ring?"

"What?"

"Did Mr. Travis give you keys to the house on a key ring?"

"Yes," she said, her eyes wide and terrified.

"What keys were on the ring."

"Mr. Tom's car. Missy Marian's car. The house key and some other key."

"Was this other key a key to Mr. Travis's motorcycle?"

"I don't know. I never used that key," she said, obviously terrified that she had made a mistake.

" Ms. Angelinez, please relax. No one here is going to yell at you. Everything will be fine. Just relax and tell us what you know. All right?"

"Yes," Delfina said, her voice still trembling.

Markham poured water into a paper cup and she gulped it down.

"Better?"

"Yes, a little."

"Okay, let's go back to the keys. Did the house key that you were give open both the front and back doors?"

"Yes," Delfina said with a weak smile, relieved she had been asked a question to which she knew the answer.

"And could you open the driveway gate and the people gate in the wall with this key?"

"Yes, if you didn't have the clicker thing from the car."

"Where did you normally keep your set of keys?"

"In the door."

"In the door?"

"The lock, it was funny." Delfina paused, lost someplace between English and Spanish. "It was locked all the time. Even when you were inside."

"It was a deadbolt?" Markham suggested. "Even when you were inside, if it was locked you couldn't get out without the key?"

"Yes, yes, you could not get out without the key when it was locked."

"Did Mr. Travis keep the doors locked all the time?"

"Yes, he was very . . . strong . . . on that. 'Delfina, don't leave that door open!' he would tell me. 'A crazy person could jump over the wall and then where will we be.' Mr. Tom was very worried about crazy people like what happened to Mr. John Lennon."

"So you kept the doors locked all the time?"

"Oh, yes."

"And when the door was locked, you couldn't open it from the inside without a key?"

"Yes, yes."

"So, you kept your key in the lock? So you could go outside whenever you needed to?"

"Yes. That way I always know where the key is."

"Did you always take your keys with you when you left the house?"

"When I was alone, always. If I don't then I have to ask Mr. Tom to let me in. He would not like that."

"What if you weren't alone?"

"If I go out with Missy Marian, then she take her keys and I leave mine in the back door."

"Did you lose your keys a few days before Ms. Travis disappeared?"

"Yes," Delfina said, then thinking about Marian Travis, began to sob and hid her face in her hands. Markham handed her a tissue. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tom," she said turning to Travis then wiping away the tears.

"That's all right. You were saying that you lost your keys. When was that?"

"Two days after Christmas. I look everywhere for them."

"What were you doing just before you lost them?"

"I took the garbage out to the trash can in back and when I came in I lock the door and I leave the keys in the lock, like always."

"What happened next?"

"Missy Marian and I go to the Beverly Center. Christmas bargain shopping." A quick, sad smile.

"You left your keys in the back door lock because you were going with Ms. Travis and she had her keys?"

"Yes."

"When did you notice your keys were missing?"

"After dinner that night. I looked at the back door and the keys were not there. I looked everywhere!" Delfina insisted.

"Was there anyone else in the house that afternoon except you and Mr. and Ms. Travis?"

"Sarah was over at her little friend's house."

"Was anyone else there?"

"No, nobody, except for Mr. Tom's friend."

"Mr. Tom's friend?" Travis repeated loudly and staring meaningfully at the jury.

"He come in when we go out. Missy say hello to him and then we leave."

"Were you there when Mr. Travis introduced this friend to Ms. Travis?"

"Yes."

"Did Ms. Travis tell this person that you were leaving for the Beverly Center?"

Delfina paused a moment, replaying the conversation. "Yes, she told him Christmas bargains at the Beverly Center and laughed."

"So the keys were in the back door lock when you left?"

"Yes."

"And when you got back, that evening you noticed they were gone?"

"Yes."

"And the only other person who was in the house that day was Mr. Travis's friend who arrived just as you were leaving?"

"Yes."

"Do you know the name of this friend?"

"No, I don't remember."

"What did he look like?"

"He had curly hair," Delfina touched her head, "and jeans and cowboy boots."

"Anything else?"

"He had a big nose, crooked."

Hamilton turned around and stared angrily at Simon Katz. Katz ignored him. He was too concerned with the ball of acid that had just exploded inside his chest.

Markham picked up two photos from his is assistant. One went to the D.A., the other to the Clerk.

"Defendant's Twenty Three for Identification," she recited for the record.

Markham handed the picture to the witness.

"Is this a picture of Mr. Travis's friend, the man who was in the Travis house just before your keys disappeared?" he asked in loud voice.

"Yes, this is him!" Delfina said instantly.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes. This is the man."

"This is the man," Markham repeated, waving the picture at the jury. "Your Honor," Markham said in a ringing voice, "let the record show that the witness has just identified a photograph of Mr. Barry McGee."

You can feel it tilting now, can't you, Ted. You can feel your case sliding sideways, getting ready for the deep six as the ocean pours into the lower decks. Man the lifeboats, Ted, women and children first.