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Authors: Lisa Scottoline

BOOK: Corrupted
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“Okay, then what happened?”

“So I didn't know who the dude was, or the defendant, sorry, and all of a sudden he was tapping Richie on the shoulder and saying something.”

“Mr. Stokowski, what did he say to Richie, if you know?”

“I do know, I heard it. He said, ‘Remember me?' Then he said, ‘Do you know what today is, you sick piece of shit?'” Stokowski looked from the jury to Martinez. “It's okay to curse, right? That's exactly what he said.”

“Yes, with apologies for the profanity, we need to know exactly what he said.”

“That's it.”

Martinez nodded. “So then what happened, Mr. Stokowski?”

“So then Richie kind of pushed him.”

“Now, before this took place, did Mr. Grusini do or say anything to the defendant?”

“No, like I say, our back was to the eating area. We didn't even know he was there.”

Bennie didn't object because the question had been asked and answered, but she would if it went to one more question. She noticed a juror in the front row taking notes. Martinez was hammering home his Richie-was-minding-his-own-business point to show that Jason was the one who started it, in response to her opening. But the bar wasn't where it mattered. The alley was.

“Mr. Stokowski, before Mr. Grusini pushed the defendant, did he say anything to him?”

“Yes. He said, ‘Get the eff out of my face, Chunk.'”

“Mr. Stokowski, in your opinion, was the defendant ‘in his face'?” Martinez made air quotes.

“Most definitely. Richie pushed him away, and the defendant must've been drunk because he fell off-balance.”

“Objection,” Bennie said, because of the assumption about the drunkenness. She had bigger plans for that, later.

“Sustained,” Judge Patterson ruled. “Jurors, you are to disregard the conclusion that the defendant was drunk.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Martinez returned his attention to the witness stand. “Mr. Stokowski, when Mr. Grusini pushed the defendant, did he push him hard?”

“No, not really, but Richie was a bigger guy than him, so he fell over. When the defendant fell, he kind of kicked up at Richie, and Richie grabbed his leg, then all hell broke loose. The people at the bar jumped up, and the bartender stopped the fight, then he threw out Richie and the defendant.”

Martinez paused. “Mr. Stokowski, how did the defendant react to being thrown out, from what you saw?”

“When the bartender picked up his arm, the defendant kind of pulled away in a very angry way, I guess that's what you would say.”

“So he appeared very angry, to the best of your knowledge?”

Bennie let it go, knowing they were picking their words carefully.

“Yes, he was angry,” Stokowski answered.

“Mr. Stokowski, what happened with Mr. Grusini, then?”

“The bartender asked him to go, too, and so we both left.”

“Mr. Stokowski, what happened when you and the victim left the bar?”

“We said good-bye, we split up. I got a great parking space right in front, so I just got in my car and drove home.” Stokowski ran his tongue over dry lips. “I feel bad about that now. I feel like I shoulda walked Richie to his car. He always parks, he always
parked
, in that alley on Dunbar Street. It was his secret spot, I think it went with the medical supply company. But I think about that a lot. What if I walked him to his car?”

“I understand,” Martinez said gently.

Bennie could see that it had an effect on the jurors, but there was nothing she could do. She'd tried enough murder cases to know that she always felt lousy while the Commonwealth was putting on its case. The loss of life and the ripple effects of lethal violence were undeniably heartbreaking.

“Mr. Stokowski, when you left the bar, did you see the defendant at all?”

“No, just Richie.”

“Mr. Stokowski, what was the victim doing when you saw him last?”

“He was walking down Pimlico Street toward Dunbar Street.”

Martinez paused. “Mr. Stokowski, is that the last you ever saw of your best friend?”

“Yes.”

“I have no further questions, Your Honor,” Martinez said, but Bennie was already on her feet, crossing to the witness box.

“Mr. Stokowski, I have a few questions for you.”

 

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

“Mr. Stokowski, during this altercation in Eddie's bar, did you see Mr. Grusini land any punches to Jason's forehead?”

Paul Stokowski squared his shoulders, and his blue eyes regarded Bennie with a chill, expected in the circumstances. “No.”

“What about elsewhere, did Mr. Grusini land any punches elsewhere?”

“No. It was more grappling, they were grappling.”

“Conversely, Mr. Stokowski, did you see Jason land any punches on Mr. Grusini?”

“No, I don't think he threw a punch. He was more grappling back.”

“Did anybody's clothes get torn, Mr. Stokowski?”

“No, not that I saw. The fight got broken up really fast, nipped in the bud.”

“Mr. Stokowski, was there any further conversation between the two men?”

“No, just kind of grunting and cursing, but that's it.”

“Any name-calling, Mr. Stokowski?”

“No.”

Bennie thought back to what the waitress, Emily, had told her during their interview, about Richie's conduct when he drank. “Mr. Stokowski, to the best of your knowledge, did Mr. Grusini ever get into a bar fight, before the one in question?”

“Objection, relevance!” Martinez shot to his feet. “Your Honor, I don't see the relevance of the question.”

Bennie faced Judge Patterson. “Your Honor, it has obvious relevance to the defense theory, which was explained in opening argument. I'd rather not describe it in full, since the witness did not hear the opening, but I'd be happy to approach the bench and explain.”

Judge Patterson waved her off. “That won't be necessary. I'll allow it, but don't make me sorry I did.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Bennie faced the witness. “Mr. Stokowski, you testified that you have known Mr. Grusini for five years. Have you seen him get into a physical altercation in a bar before the one in question?”

“Yes,” Stokowski answered, after a moment.

“How many in five years?”

“I don't know.” Stokowski shrugged, uncomfortably.

“Between one and five, or between five and ten?”

Stokowski hesitated. “Between one and five.”

“Thank you.” Bennie didn't want to let it go, but it was too risky. She noticed the jury taking notes. “Now, Mr. Stokowski, you testified that Mr. Grusini ‘could hold his own.' What did you mean by that?”

“I meant he could handle himself. He knew how to fight.”

“And didn't you know that because of the fights you saw him get into?”

“Not really, I just knew it. I mean, he's a guy's guy. He worked construction. He was in decent shape, he could handle himself. It comes with the territory, you know?” Stokowski was saying too much, probably because he felt nervous during cross-examination, but it was helping Bennie's case, so she let him go.

“Mr. Stokowski, I would like to direct your attention for a moment to Defense Exhibit 10.” Bennie crossed the room and picked up the enlarged mugshot of Jason, but she didn't turn it around yet. Instead, she kept the white side facing Stokowski while she spoke, leaning on the mounted exhibit. “I would like to show you a photograph taken of my client Jason at the time of his arrest and ask you a few questions.”

Stokowski shifted around to face her, and Bennie walked over to the witness box and held up the exhibit, then turned it around, like a reveal. Stokowski recoiled, which was probably the most she could've asked for, and more than one juror noticed his reaction.

“Mr. Stokowski, Jason's face didn't look like this when he left the bar, did it?”

“No.”

“There was no swelling around his forehead or his eye, was there?”

“No.”

“Thank you. Excuse me a moment.” Bennie walked the exhibit back and left it turned away as she spoke. “Mr. Stokowski, do you know if Mr. Grusini carried a weapon of any kind, such as a knife?”

“Objection.” Martinez stood up. “That's outside the scope of direct examination.”

“Your Honor, really?” Bennie crossed to Martinez's counsel table and picked up the bagged hunting knife. “This is Commonwealth Exhibit 2, the murder weapon. To whom it belongs has obvious relevance to this case, as well as my defense.”

“Ms. Rosato, please narrow your question.” Judge Patterson turned to Martinez. “Mr. Martinez, if you keep objecting at this pace, we're going to be here all week.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Martinez wilted into his seat.

“Mr. Stokowski.” Bennie held up the knife in the bag, on her right side, which was away from the jury. “Did you ever see this knife before?”

“No.”

“Do you know who it belongs to?”

“No.”

“Do you know what type of knife this is?”

“No.”

“Mr. Stokowski, are you a hunter?”

“Not anymore.” Stokowski caught his wife's eye with a smile, but Bennie didn't want to break the mood with comic relief.

“So you never went hunting with Mr. Grusini, is that correct?”

“No, I never did.”

“Do you know if Mr. Grusini went hunting?”

“Yes. He used to take off during deer season. A lot of the guys do.”

Bennie put two and two together, on the fly. “The murder in question took place during deer season, did it not?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know if Mr. Grusini carried a knife?”

“No, I don't.”

“Mr. Stokowski, Mr. Grusini was your best friend and your best man, but you don't know if he carried a knife?”

“No, I don't.”

Bennie wanted to ask him,
would it be out of character for Richie to carry a knife
, but again, she had to stop herself. Martinez would object, and Stokowski wouldn't give her the answer she wanted. “Do you know if Mr. Grusini carried a gun?”

“Objection, relevance!” Martinez rose, albeit sheepishly, but Bennie let it go.

“Your Honor, I withdraw the question. Mr. Stokowski, did you ever see Mr. Grusini pull a knife on anyone during the fights we discussed?”

Stokowski hesitated, and Bennie sensed she had struck gold, so she started digging.

“Mr. Stokowski? Yes or no? Did you ever see Mr. Grusini pull a knife on anybody during a fight?”

“Look, I never saw Richie pull
his
knife, I mean, I don't know if he had a knife.” Stokowski pursed his lips. “I never saw him pull a knife off of himself, like from his pocket or anything. But once, I mean, I have to admit, he took a knife off the bar and he kind of held it out.”

“He brandished a knife at someone?”

“I don't know what that means.” Stokowski looked puzzled, but the jury didn't.

“It means to wave or point it at someone. Did you see Mr. Grusini brandish or wave a knife at someone during a fight?”

“Uh, yes,” Stokowski answered, his reluctance plain.

“Mr. Stokowski, what kind of knife did he brandish?”

“It was just one of those little knives bartenders use, to cut up lemons and limes. It was on the white cutting board they always have. He reached over for it.”

“So, a paring knife?”

“I guess so.”

“In any event, not a butter knife?” Bennie noticed Marathon Mom taking notes in her booklet.

“No, not a butter knife.”

“Mr. Stokowski, did Mr. Grusini aim the point of the knife at another person?”

“Yes, but he didn't stab him or anything. He just held it out.”

“Who did he aim the knife at, on this occasion?”

“A drunk guy who came up to him, I forget.”

Bennie let it go, because she was on a roll. “Was this fight in a bar, too?”

“Yes.”

“At Eddie's?”

“No, Mayfair Bar & Grill.”

Bennie made a mental note and she knew Lou would too, in the gallery. “How long ago did this occur?”

“Two years.”

“Were the other fights we discussed in bars?”

“Uh, yes, I guess so.”

Bennie didn't press it. She needed only the one. “So during this fight at the Mayfair Bar & Grill, after Mr. Grusini held out the knife, then what happened?”

“They threw us out.”

“I see.” Bennie glanced over at the jury, who had pricked up their ears. She had a hunch that Richie and Stokowski had been banned from the Mayfair Bar & Grill, but she couldn't take the chance, ask, and be wrong. Instead she asked, “Did you and Mr. Grusini ever return to the Mayfair Bar & Grill after that altercation?”

“No, we didn't.”

Bennie let it go. The inference was there, and the jury wasn't stupid. “Mr. Stokowski, have you ever seen Mr. Grusini punch anyone so hard that they were knocked unconscious?”

Stokowski pursed his lips. “Only once, but yes.”

“Where did that take place?”

“At an Eagles game, last year.”

“Whom did Mr. Grusini knock unconscious?”

“I don't think he
meant
the guy to go unconscious or anything, but there was this jerk in the parking lot after the game, a Dallas fan, and he was annoying everybody, hooting and hollering, talking trash. They got into it, I don't really know how it started, but Richie ended it. The guy deserved it.”

“I see.” Bennie didn't react, because she had learned through experience that her reactions would cause the jury to mute their own reaction, when what she really wanted was the jury to react strongly. “Mr. Stokowski, did stadium security come, after that altercation?”

“No, we left.” Stokowski's mood changed. He frowned, seeming to grow close-mouthed, and Bennie could tell that he felt that he'd said too much. She was guessing that Martinez felt the same way, but she couldn't take any credit. It had taken only a few simple questions to elicit Richie's true nature, and Stokowski was honest enough to tell the truth.

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