PART 35 (58 page)

“No objection,” said all defense counsel, without even looking at the paper.

Ellis read it to the jury. The statement was the same as the testimony Morales had just given, about identifying Antonio Cruz as Hernandez, about the radio, about reading the story in the paper. As to the time, the signed statement said:

On that day, July 3rd, 1967, I do not remember the exact time, but it was in the afternoon, I accepted a portable radio and case …

The jurors, who had edged forward in their seats to hear Ellis topple Morales's testimony, eased back. Some looked at their fellow jurors. Juror number seven, the bearded music teacher, lifted his eyebrows, surprised that there was nothing significant in what Ellis had just read. He shrugged, put his hand to his chin, and continued to listen.

“Let him go. He's doing very well for us. He's strengthening our witness,” said Sam.

“Do you remember telling Mr. Luca that you did not remember the exact time, but it was in the afternoon?”

“That is correct.”

Sandro rose quickly. “Your Honor, I object to this type of examination. There is no discrepancy whatever in what the witness has said on the stand and what is contained in that statement, concerning the time. It was after one
P.M.
, exactly the same.”

“It is not exactly what he just said,” retorted Ellis, angry at Sandra's re-emphasis of the point.

“Don't raise your voice to me, sir,” said Sandro.

“Gentlemen, let's continue with the trial,” admonished the judge. “You may answer the question.”

“I don't remember the question,” said Morales.

Ellis had the reporter read back the question.

“I did so, but I didn't say—I said after one o'clock in the afternoon.”

Ellis asked Morales about the pledge book. He testified he handled the transaction, took the radio in pawn; the transaction took about five or ten minutes. He said he didn't notice if Hernandez went back into an automobile or not when he left the store, nor had he noticed anyone waiting for Hernandez while the transaction was going on. Ellis had no further questions and returned to his seat. He jotted some notes, and let his pencil drop to the table.

The judge ordered a short recess for the jurors. Sandro, Sam, and Siakos walked outside.

Siakos was smiling from ear to ear. “That was beautiful,” he said. “Ellis was dying out there.”

“That statement of Sandro's didn't hurt you too much,” said Sam.

“Not at all, not at all. You know, I think we can do all right here. These fellows may actually be innocent, and the cops actually might have the wrong fellows.”

“Really?” said Sam. “I'm going to the men's room.”

As his next witness, Siakos called Albert Rojas. Rojas worked for Excelsior Pawn Brokers on Delancey Street, where Antonio Cruz had pawned two suits. Rojas had with him the store's pledge book. He identified the signature of Antonio Cruz, testifying that he had personally entered the transaction in the pledge book. He testified, however, that the person who had actually negotiated with Antonio Cruz was the pawnshop's proprietor, Artie Horowitz. Rojas said that he did not know exactly the time of the negotiation but that he had a rough idea. Ellis objected to Rojas's rough ideas. Sandro and Sam were watching silently as Siakos floundered because he hadn't even talked to his own witness before putting him on the stand.

Ellis further objected to all of Rojas's testimony since there was no connection between the Antonio Cruz on the books at Excelsior and Hernandez. The judge allowed him to continue, subject to the jury's determination if the man who signed the pledge book at Goodman's had been the same as the one who signed at Excelsior. Rojas said that there had been eighty-four transactions on July 3rd, 1967, and the Antonio Cruz transactions were numbers 57 and 58.

“The handwriting is exactly the same in the Excelsior books as in Sid Goodman's. The jury can see that right from the pledge book,” Sandro whispered to Sam.

Rojas further identified the signature of a friend of his, Ishmael Perez, in the Excelsior book. This was a transaction that Rojas had handled. Rojas said Perez had been in the pawnshop at about 1:15
P.M.
on July 3rd, 1967. Perez's signature was six signatures above Antonio Cruz.

Siakos had no further questions of his witness. Ellis cross-examined only enough to establish clearly that Artie Horowitz was the person who had taken in the pledge, and that he, if anyone, was the one who would know the exact time of the transaction. He had Rojas testify that he had not seen Hernandez or Alvarado at any time on that day. Ellis had no further questions.

Siakos called Rosalinda Estevez. Miss Estevez testified that she had been in Sid Goodman's Pawnshop on July 3rd, 1967. She pointed out her signature in the pledge book that Willie Morales had brought in with him. Her name appeared ten signatures above Antonio Cruz. She testified she had been in the store at about 1:30
P.M.
on July 3rd, 1967.

Ellis asked her if she had seen either Hernandez or Alvarado at that time or at any time on that day. She said she had not. Ellis had no further questions.

The judge decided not to start a new witness at that time. He recessed the jury until the following day.

“Hey, Mr. Luca,” said Alvarado, as the jury filed out. “Can you do somesing about the food we getting in that bullpens?”

“What do you mean? What's wrong with the food?”

“What's wrong? Mr. Luca, how you feel, every day you eat that stinky jelly sandwiches and tea what's more like water?”

“You mean they don't send over hot lunch or anything special for you on a long trial like this?”

“Special? You kidding, right, Mr. Luca?” Hernandez was watching. “We get two pieces of bread with some jellies in between every day, every day. We can't eat that no more. Believe me this thing, I getting the chits. Him too.” He nodded toward Hernandez.

Sandro stood. “May I approach the bench, Your Honor?”

“Yes.”

Sandro walked to the bench. Ellis also approached. “Your Honor, it seems we have a complaint about the Department of Correction menu.”

Ellis frowned and returned to his table.

“I can't do anything about the Department of Correction, Sandro. You have to talk to their commissioner. What's the matter, are they leaving the truffles out of the pâté?”

“They send these inmates jelly sandwiches, every day. They're starting to get dysentery. Can't we get them some substantial food?”

“I have no authority to do anything about that. Unless you can arrange with the court captain to bring them a sandwich yourself after lunch. Go over on Mulberry Street and get them a hero.” The judge smiled.

“Will you tell the guard it's all right?”

“Surely. Captain,” he called.

The officer in charge of the court approached the bench. Sandro returned to his counsel table, thinking that now, in addition to worrying about things like the law, the witnesses, and the direction of his questions, he was in charge of the mustards and jellies.

CHAPTER XXVI

“Do you remember what time Alvarado came into the store?” Sandro asked Annie Mae Cooper.

“Well, it was after my break, a few minutes after, which is one to one fifteen, my break. I figure it was about one twenty.”

“Is there any question in your mind that Alvarado was the man who was in the store that day, Annie?”

“No. I seen him before, cause he changed another hundred-dollar bill here a few days before.”

“And what day did he come in the second time?” Sandro continued.

“July the third, 1967.”

“How do you know it was July third?”

“How come you askin' me all these questions? I tol' you all this already.”

“I know, I just want to be sure I have it down right,” Sandro said.

“Well, for one thing I was off the next day. It was July fourth. And when I was off, I seen his picture in the papers, and I say to my husband, ‘That man was in my store yesterday.' And the next day, when I come here to work, I showed the newspaper to Phil and told him too.”

“Are you sure about the time you saw Alvarado come in?” Sandro asked.

“Sure. I always take my break the same time cause there's another girl who has to take a break soon's I get back. She goes at one fifteen.”

“That's fine,” said Sandro.

“I don't mind helping you out, mister, but I don't want to go to no court. I mean, I just ain't goin'. I got other things to do.”

“But Annie Mae, it's as easy as that. You'll be in and out in a couple of minutes,” said Mike.

“I ain't goin', so don't start foolin' round. I don't want to go to no court.”

“Let's not argue about it now,” Sandro said. “Where's Phil?”

“He's round here somewhere.” She went to find him.

“What the hell good is she to us if she won't come to court?” Mike asked.

“Let's talk to Gruberger first. Maybe he can get her to come to court. If not, we can always subpoena her if we have to.”

“We could do that,” Mike agreed.

“I'd rather not, though,” said Sandro. “It's not good to bring in a reluctant witness. She could just be mean when she's up on the stand, and we'd be stuck with her.”

Phil Gruberger walked toward Sandro and Mike. He shook hands.

“Phil, do you remember the day the hundred-dollar bill was changed?”

“There were two of them. Which one are you talking about?”

“The second one. Do you remember what day it was cashed on?”

“Sure. July third. The day before July fourth.”

“You're sure of that?”

“Sure. I'm the one who brings the deposits to the bank, and I know the second one was July third. The only other deposit I made of a hundred-dollar bill was a few days before.”

“Did you see the man who cashed the hundred-dollar bill on July third?” Sandro asked.

“No. I was downstairs. Annie Mae came down and asked me if I'd approve her cashing this bill she had in her hands. I looked at it, and it looked all right. So I told her it was okay. She told me it was the same guy who had cashed the first one.”

“Did you see the fellow who cashed the
first
bill?”

“Yes. That time I was upstairs, and I saw the guy. It was your Alvarado.”

“How do you remember now that it was Alvarado who came in here to cash the hundred-dollar bill the first time?”

“Well, when Annie Mae came to work the day after July fourth,” said Gruberger, “on July fifth, she said, ‘Remember that hundred-dollar bill that I cashed for some guy on July third? Well, look, here's his picture in the paper.' So I looked at the paper and saw this fellow Alvarado. I recognized him to be the fellow from several days before who had cashed the first hundred-dollar bill.”

“Are you sure it was Alvarado who cashed the first bill?”

“Sure.”

“Because of the rules of evidence, Phil, you wouldn't be able to tell the jury what Annie Mae told you when she came to work on July fifth …”

“That'd be hearsay, right?”

“That's right.”

“Are you a law student or something?” Mike wondered.

“No, I went to law school for a year, but I didn't finish. I had to get a job and support my wife. And then a kid came along, so here we are.” He shrugged without bitterness.

“I could use your help now, Phil,” Sandro said in a confiding tone.

“How's that?”

“Annie Mae doesn't want to come to court. She tells me that she'll help out here, talk, tell me what happened, but she won't go to court to testify. Now you know that her story isn't worth a damn if she doesn't testify to it in court.”

Gruberger nodded knowingly. “I'll talk to her when you go. When do you need us?”

“Today is Thursday. Tomorrow Hernandez's defense'll probably wind up. The way it looks now, I'll need you Monday.”

“Let me talk to her.”

“You won't even have to go to any trouble to get there. Mike can pick you up here and drop you off again. Before you know it, it'll all be over. And, of course, you'll both be paid for any time you lose from the job.”

“That's not necessary. She won't lose any time. I'm in charge of the time cards. Okay, I'll talk to her. Anything else? I've got to get back to the floor.”

“No. You'll be helping a great deal if you can straighten her out. I may serve her with a subpoena anyway, just to cover myself,” said Sandro. “Maybe that'll make it easier for you too. You can explain all the trouble she'll get in if she doesn't obey the subpoena.”

“You play it any way you want, and I'll do what I can on this end, okay, Counselor?” Phil smiled.

“Right.” Sandro and Mike turned and left the store. They got back in the car.

“Aren't we going to serve her with a subpoena first?” asked Mike.

“No, I want to get one signed by the judge, so it's a court order, not just a lawyer's subpoena.”

“Where to now?”

“Let's go see that superintendent for the buildings on Stanton Street. The ones behind which Ellis says Alvarado hid because there was a big fence blocking the rear yard.”

Mike started the car and headed out into the traffic, toward the bridge.

“At least you can be sure of one thing,” Mike said.

“What's that?”

“She sure isn't a friend of Alvarado's who's trying to tell a phony story to help him out. She doesn't even want to help him out.”

“That's true. I guess we can take some consolation in that. Except that if we don't get her to court, Alvarado's going to have to take that consolation while he's doing time, maybe waiting for the electric chair.”

“Yeah, that won't do a hell of a lot for him, will it?”

“Not much.”