State's Evidence: A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller (40 page)

“Fair enough.” Stone knew her neck was on the
line here as much as his was. Any missteps for either of them could
hurt their individual cases and adversely affect their careers.

* * *

When Stone identified himself and Beverly to
Isabel Santiago, she unlocked the door and let them in.

“You’re here to talk about my son, Rafael?”
Isabel asked warily.

Beverly gazed at her. “We’re here to talk
about your
other
son, Manuel Gonzalez.” She detected fear in
the old woman’s craggy face at the mention of the name. “He is
Rafael’s identical twin, isn’t he?”

Isabel nodded, slumping onto a chair. “How
did you find out?”

“DNA test confirmed that they were identical
twins,” Stone said.

“Both of your sons are in serious trouble,”
Beverly told her. “We need to know why. Our records had shown that
they weren’t related. We’d like you to help us out here—for
them.”

With some effort, Isabel leaned over and
picked up the cat that scurried over to her. She sat it on her lap
and became thoughtful. “I was still living in Cuba when I got
pregnant. My lover didn’t want anything to do with me when he found
out, so he went back to his wife and I was left all alone. When I
found out I was carrying twins, I knew I couldn’t raise them both
by myself. I had to choose between them...”

“And you chose Rafael?” guessed Beverly.

Isabel nodded sadly. “If I could do it over
again, I would’ve kept them both. But I gave one to my American
friend, Rosa. She always wanted a child, but couldn’t have any of
her own. She knew the right people and was able to pass him off as
her own. She brought Manuel to live with her in this country. Later
I came here myself with Rafael.”

She paused, petting her cat almost
mechanically. “When Manuel got into too much trouble in Los Angeles
where my friend lived, she sent him to live with me here. We agreed
that Manuel would be my nephew. But he was more like a stranger. He
and Rafael didn’t get along very well. Both were in and out of
trouble with the law. I finally had to ask Manuel to leave my
house, to try and save Rafael.”

“But you couldn’t?” Beverly regarded the
woman, knowing that Rafael had killed his pregnant girlfriend at
the very least.

Isabel wiped at tears in her eyes. “No. I
lost them both to the streets and drugs.”

“When did they find out they were identical
twins?” Stone asked.

Isabel stared at the question. “Manuel made
me tell him three weeks ago,” she confessed. “He suspected it for a
long time. I thought if I told him it might help get his life back
on track.” Her eyes lowered, defeated.

“Do you know if Manuel has been in contact
with Rafael?” Beverly asked. Prison and jail records had shown no
interaction between the two, but she knew there were ways around
that for experienced inmates. Or determined criminal brothers.

Isabel’s mouth furrowed. “Neither of them has
talked about it, but I think my sons have been communicating since
Rafael was arrested. Now Manuel is in the same boat. Maybe it’s
best. I don’t have to be sacred no more.”

Beverly felt sorry for what this woman had
already been put through. She wished they could leave it at that,
but as a prosecutor she had a job to perform in the interest of
justice.

“Manuel has confessed to crimes that Rafael
has been charged with,” she pointed out. “Since their DNA matches,
we’re not sure who the real culprit is. Maybe you can help keep one
of them from taking the rap for crimes he didn’t commit.”

Beverly recalled that Isabel had been
Santiago’s alibi at the time the crimes against the Crawfords took
place and was to be his attorney’s key witness. Was she lying then?
Would Isabel lie now to protect the son she most called her
own?

Isabel tossed her cat to the floor and it
scrambled away. She wiped her eyes and looked at Beverly and
Stone.

“Manuel is a very good liar, but also a very
bad person,” she said. “I wouldn’t put anything past him. Don’t
know why he’d want to help Rafael. Maybe he just wants to do the
right thing.”

Yeah, sure, like prolonging his own
life
, Stone mused. The sadistic killer would probably kill his
own mother if it meant saving his ass from a similar fate.

But Stone conceded that despicable as he may
be, Gonzalez could still be right on the money in taking
responsibility for another murder and sexual assault.

Or more interested in letting his twin
brother off the hook in some sort of symbiotic pact.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Beverly played the videotape back for Maxine
to watch. She stopped after Manuel Gonzalez had described the
birthmark below her belly button and the strawberry tattoo on her
bottom. All the while Beverly studied her star witness’s
reaction.

Maxine appeared almost expressionless.

The way Beverly saw it, either Gonzalez was
lying outright or had somehow been supplied with this intimate
information from the real rapist.

Or he had the opportunity to see the
birthmark and tattoo firsthand under other circumstances.

Which was it?

Beverly arched a brow as she asked
straightforwardly, “Do you have a birthmark below your belly
button?”

Maxine looked confused, as if spoken to in a
foreign language. “Yes,” she finally stated like she was on the
witness stand.

It occurred to Beverly that it was
theoretically possible that Gonzalez—or even Santiago for that
matter—could have seen the birthmark when Maxine exposed that part
of her body as a fashion or personal statement. Or even while
dancing and selling her body during her previous life.

“It’s about the size of a dime,” Maxine
uttered reflectively. “I always wondered why there of all
places—”

“What about the strawberry tattoo?” Beverly
asked for verification.

“Oh that,” Maxine said coyly. “I got it
before I met Sheldon. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Most
women I knew were getting tattoos on their asses—as a kind of
freedom of expression thing.” Her voice waned. “I suppose I would
have been much better off without it—”

Beverly didn’t believe that was necessarily
the case. The tattoo itself had nothing to do with her attack,
though it was certainly another reminder of it.

“May I see the tattoo?” she asked
sanguinely.

Maxine wrinkled her nose. “Sure. Why not?
Apparently everyone else has.”

“I only want to see for myself what Manuel
Gonzalez claimed to have,” Beverly defended herself. “We have to
know that this is truly the man who assaulted you.”

Maxine stood and turned her back to Beverly.
Then in a single motion, she pulled down black, cropped slacks. She
wore a honey colored thong, revealing a firm, shapely bottom. On
her right buttock was a small strawberry tattoo.

Beverly couldn’t help but think in that
moment that this case could ultimately be decided on the strength
of two tattoos in unusual and intimate places.

She had seen enough.

After Maxine had taken a seat again, Beverly
asked evenly, “Is it possible that you could have met Manuel
Gonzalez before you were attacked?”

Maxine flung her a sharp gaze. “I’m not sure
I like the implications of the question...”

“This isn’t an inquisition into your past,”
Beverly tried to assure her. She saw no reason to bring up any
specifics unless Maxine chose to. “However, if there is any chance
that Gonzalez could have seen that tattoo or birthmark
before
the night in question, I need to know—”

A vein bulged in Maxine’s temple. “I have
never seen that man before he shot my husband in cold blood and
forced me to perform sex acts with him!” she answered vehemently.
“If I had, I would tell you. I never forget a face.”

Except when the face is identical to
another
face, Beverly mused.

Which face was it she remembered seeing?

Which body?

Which lizard tattoo?

Beverly wondered if Manuel Gonzalez was
indeed the right assailant, as he’d insisted and Maxine had
identified the second time around. Or could Maxine’s
first
positive identification have been the correct one?

* * *

Beverly stood at the window observing as
Manuel Gonzalez was being readied to take the polygraph exam. He
appeared fairly calm and confident, whereas her stomach was in
knots and her confidence faltering.

In spite of the general reliability of
polygraph exams, they were hardly foolproof. She had known of
instances where the suspect had passed the test, only to fail the
weight of evidence. Or vice versa.

How would Gonzalez fare? Could he outsmart
the polygraph?

Was he even capable of showing the range of
emotions usually present in establishing whether or not the subject
was telling the truth?

Beverly looked with askance at Natalie Pena,
standing several feet from her, as though a wall stood between
them. Gonzalez’s attorney had just as much riding on the outcome as
she did. Probably more, considering the lady was putting her trust
in a man who had already proven himself to be unpredictable,
dishonest, and dangerous. Not to mention would almost surely be
convicted of three other murders in which the evidence against him
was overwhelming.

It scared Beverly, as she realized that the
very same characteristics she attributed to Manuel Gonzalez also
applied to Rafael Santiago.

Others present with a vested interest in the
exam results included Detectives Palmer, Chang, and Arellano whose
investigation of Gonzalez led to his arrest in the first place;
Detective Joe O’Dell and Gail Kennedy.

* * *

Inside the room, Jackie Hampton sat at an
angle from Manuel Gonzalez. The polygraph examiner was in her
thirties, with brunette hair severely tied in a bun. She had been
briefed on the circumstances involving the subject and was certain
that the test would either confirm or refute his confession. For an
instant, she tried to imagine herself as the victim of the vicious
sexual assaults he was being charged with. The thought was
revolting to Jackie as she concentrated on the matter at hand.

“Are you ready, Mr. Gonzalez?” she asked
politely after glancing at the brawny guard standing impassively in
the corner.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he responded tartly,
bracing himself as if about to run into a brick wall.

“Try to relax,” she urged him, knowing the
results depended on it. “Just answer the questions as truthfully
and precisely as you can and I’m sure you will do fine—”

Jackie chided herself for making it seem like
a simple school exam where one was rewarded for one’s efforts.
Whatever the outcome, she realized he was in a no win situation as
life imprisonment was hardly a picnic for anyone.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Manuel Roberto Gonzalez.” He grinned at her,
as if an introduction for a date.

She viewed the instruments. “How old are
you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

He flashed his teeth. “Yeah.”

“Please answer with a yes or no, Mr.
Gonzalez. Have you
ever
killed anyone?”

“Yes.”

The instruments showed no great variation.
“Did you kill Adrienne Murray?”

“Yes, I did.”

Jackie drew in a ragged breath. “Did you kill
Claudia Sosa?”

Manuel lowered his eyes ruefully. “Do I have
to answer that?”

“Yes,” she stated. “Please.”

“Yes,” he muttered tonelessly, looking Jackie
straight in the eye.

She averted his stare, instead studying the
polygraph, trained to interpret the meaning of the lines crossing
over, zigzagging this way and that.

“Did you break into Judge Sheldon Crawford’s
house on the twenty-ninth of October of last year?” Jackie
asked.

“Yes.”

She made herself look at him. “And did you
kill Judge Crawford?”

Manuel said flatly while barely opening his
mouth, “Yes.”

Jackie moved her eyes from him to the
instruments. “Did you shoot him?”

“Yes.” He held her gaze.

“How many times?”

“Three,” he answered tersely.

“What did you do with the gun?” she inquired,
fixing his face.

“Threw it in the lake.”

“What lake?”

“Eagles Lake,” Manuel said without
hesitation.

The instruments zigzagged.

Jackie read them then shifted slightly,
preparing for questions that were more uncomfortable to ask as a
woman.

“Did you rape Maxine Crawford?”

“Yes,” he smiled.

Jackie stared at the monitor for a moment or
two. “Did you sodomize Mrs. Crawford?”

Grinning, Manuel answered, “Yeah, I did. And
loved every second of it!”

What an ass!
Jackie was suddenly
angry. “Please just stick to answering the question.” Her voice was
elevated slightly.

“Anything you say.” He peered at her
lustfully.

“Did you force Maxine Crawford to orally
copulate you?”

“Yeah.” He licked his lips invitingly.

Jackie studied his response. “Would you
please answer that question again?”

“Why not?” he laughed. “
Yes
, I made
her go down on me—”

She felt her cheeks flush. “Did you wear
gloves?”

“Sure did.”

“Leather?”

Manuel chuckled. “What other kind are
there?

“
Leather
?” she repeated sharply.

“Yes, they were leather,” he snapped.
“Okay?”

Jackie sucked air in through her nostrils.
“What happened to the gloves?”

“Got rid of ‘em,” he said quickly.

She took note of the polygraph instruments at
work. “Where did you get rid of them?”

Manuel thought about this. “Tossed them in
the lake. No reason to keep ‘em after I took care of business.” He
put a hand to his mouth sardonically. “Oh, I forgot, I ain’t
supposed to drag it out.”