The Law of Second Chances (32 page)

Joe Fogarty didn’t answer right away. He seemed to be mulling the words over in his head before he spoke. “I’ve been rousting Benny for years. I know he’s a two-bit punk and a thief, but he’s never been violent. When Tony Severino called me and asked me to pick Benny up for this murder, I didn’t believe it. This was a high-profile guy that got shot, and I figured Benny might have been a fall guy—in the wrong place at the wrong time. So I told him to keep a lid on it.”

Joe took a long drag on his cigarette. “I didn’t know anything about the murder investigation at the time and I still don’t. I worked with Tony Severino for years. He’s a good
detective. And Nick Walsh is one of the best homicide detectives this department has ever had. If they think Benny is guilty, then that’s it. I said what I said based on my instincts at the time. Any other questions?”

“Do you think Benny could murder somebody?”

“I think anybody could murder anybody given the right circumstances. It wouldn’t be Benny’s first choice, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Like I said, he’s a criminal. Anything else?”

“Nope. Thanks for the info.”

“Sure.” Joe tossed his cigarette into the street as he walked past Jack back toward Lexington Avenue. He turned left at the corner and headed away from the Carlow East without looking back.

“I’m going to take the case,” Jack told Henry at breakfast.

“Really?” Henry said. “So Joe Fogarty confirmed what Tillie said?”

“Who’s Joe Fogarty?” Jack replied.

“I gotcha. Well, I’m glad you made the right decision, Jack.”

“I’m not so sure it’s the right decision.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, my source didn’t give Benny the Good Housekeeping seal of approval. I’ve still got my doubts about him. But like you said, he deserves a defense.”

“Speaking of which, Jack—now that you’re Benny’s lawyer, just how are you going to defend him?”

“That’s the part I haven’t figured out yet.”

After breakfast, Jack called Bruce Sentner and told him of his decision.

“I’ve got a stipulation for substitution of counsel prepared. If you can be available to sign it, I’ll file it today. Can you have the file ready?”

“Jack, this is government,” Bruce responded. “We don’t usually work that fast. However, since it’s you, and you’re taking this file off my hands for God knows what reason, I think we can accommodate your request.”

His second call that morning was to Luis.

“I’ve decided to represent your son,” he told his old friend. There was a long pause. Jack could tell Luis was trying to get his emotions in check.

“Thank you, Jack,” Luis finally replied. “I’ll never forget this. I’ll be indebted to you forever.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Luis. And don’t get your hopes up too high. I can’t change the facts. All I’m doing is agreeing to give Benny the best representation I can. He may still be convicted.”

“I know all that, Jack. I also know you’re putting your reputation on the line. I’m trusting God on this one. God brought me to you.”

Jack wished he had that kind of faith.

“Luis, do me a favor, will you?”

“Sure, Jack. Anything. You name it.”

“Go visit your son.”

“Do you think he’ll talk to me?”

“I think it’s worth another try.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

On Saturday morning, with Benny’s file in hand, Jack and Henry left for the airport. Jack couldn’t wait to get back to Bass Creek.

47

Jack and Henry pored over Benny’s file on the flight back, and Jack kept reading through the police reports at home that evening until a vague picture of what happened started to form in his mind. Still, he had lots of questions he couldn’t answer. He shared his bewilderment with Henry, who came over on Sunday morning to work with him.

“I’ve read this file over and over again, Henry, and things just don’t make sense.”

“Take me through it, Jack. Slowly.”

“Okay. Do you remember the credit card incident?”

“Yeah. Carl Robertson’s girlfriend, Angie, reported a credit card missing.”

“My hunch is that Benny was the guy at the bar that night who tried to hit on Angie. Actually, he wasn’t trying to hit on her at all—he was stealing her credit card.”

“Very good, Jack, you’re starting to think like a thief.”

“Don’t give me too much credit. I’m going to get lost here very shortly. Okay, Angie was at the bar that night with this Lois Barton woman, the one she was having an affair with.”

“Yeah, I remember. That was the best part of the whole story.”

Jack ignored Henry’s feeble attempt at humor. “Lois then followed Benny out of the bar.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, I think Lois was part of this robbery and murder of Carl Robertson.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Lois was definitely setting Angie up—pumping her for information about Carl. If you recall, Angie admitted to Nick Walsh that she told Lois about Carl bringing her ten thousand a month.”

“That makes sense. She and Benny were probably partners.”

“Yeah, but here’s what doesn’t make sense, Henry. If Lois and Benny were in cahoots with each other, what was Benny doing stealing Angie’s credit card? And what was Lois doing leaving Angie and following Benny out of the bar, never to be seen again?”

Henry didn’t answer right away. He had to think about that one for a minute. Jack was right. Things didn’t seem to make sense. “They probably weren’t partners when Benny stole the credit card. Lois probably saw Benny lift the card and followed him out of the bar and sometime after that they decided to team up to do this robbery. That’s the way criminals meet sometimes.”

“You know, Henry, I thought about that. Here’s what bothers me, though. This is a one-man job, and it’s not a hell of a lot of money. Why cut somebody you just met into a job you had been setting up?”

“Maybe the robbery was Benny’s idea,” Henry offered. “Maybe she just told him about Carl and the money, and he came up with the rest.”

“Possibly,” Jack said pondering. “But that’s not Benny’s M.O. A robbery like this was a little out of his league. And Lois had to be thinking about the robbery all along. She wasn’t pumping Angie for information without some sort of plan.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Henry replied. “I’m just offering possibilities.”

“And why, if this was a simple robbery, did Benny shoot Carl?”

“I don’t know.”

“And where was this Lois on the night of the murder?”

“You’re batting a thousand, Jack. I don’t have a clue as to that one either.”

Jack still wasn’t through asking the questions that were bouncing around in his brain. “And why did the police all of a sudden stop looking for Lois Barton?”

“I think I can answer that one. They had Benny, and they had a pretty airtight case against him. If they kept looking for her and didn’t find her, a good lawyer like you could blow a lot of smoke with any new evidence they came up with about her. My guess is that they won’t even mention her when they present their case against Benny.”

“And dare me to bring her up.”

“Exactly.”

“Because if I bring her up, what good does it do me? Benny is still guilty, even if he had an accomplice.”

“I don’t know what to say, Jack. There’re a lot of things that don’t add up, and I don’t think we’ll ever find the answers.”

“Wait a minute—aren’t you the one who got me into this?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t necessarily think you were going to be successful. I just wanted Benny to have the benefit of your representation.”

“Thanks a lot, Henry, I appreciate that.”

“No problem, Jack.”

Jack spent Sunday afternoon at his office preparing a subpoena for Carl Robertson’s estate to produce his entire financial records for the five years prior to his death. It was a fishing expedition. He had no idea what he was looking for or what he might find. It was just standard procedure to gather as much evidence as possible. He also subpoenaed Carl’s telephone records for the last six months of his life. According to the police reports, Angie had mentioned a telephone call and Carl’s writing two words,
Gainesville
and
breakthrough
, on a notepad. Maybe the telephone records would tell him something. Again, it was a long shot.

As well as the subpoenas, Jack also prepared a motion
asking the court to enter an order requiring Carl Robertson’s estate and the telephone company to produce the information immediately. He needed as much time as possible to have an expert go through the records, process it all, and tell him what it meant. Bruce Sentner had mentioned that Judge Langford Middleton would not continue the case until a later date under any circumstances, so Jack couldn’t ask for a delay. He could request records, however, and when the parties balked, protesting that they couldn’t produce them on such short notice, he could let the judge arrive at the obvious conclusion that a short delay was needed. There was more than one way to skin a cat.

As he was wrapping up his very long Sunday, Jack received a call from Charlie.

“Are you sitting down?” she asked.

“No. Why?”

“Guess who is on the front page of the
New York Times
, the
Daily News
, and the
Post
?”

“Who?”

“You, my friend. Somebody got word of the stipulation for substitution of counsel you filed on Friday and notified all the papers. It’s big news that a man with your reputation is representing Benny. The
Post
headline was the best: ‘The Lone Ranger Rides Again.’”

“Oh, Jesus.”

“The game is on again,” Charlie continued. “Having somebody like you on board has stoked the fire. The governor just gave an interview on television reiterating that he will accept nothing less than the death penalty in this case.”

“Well, I guess there won’t be any plea bargaining.”

“I think you’re right about that.”

“By the way, Charlie, I’ve got a couple of things I want to run by you. I’m probably going to be up next week for an emergency hearing on some documents I need.”

“You can stay here, no problem. Like I told you, you and Henry can make my home your headquarters for the entire trial.”

“Thanks, Charlie, but that wasn’t my question.”

“Go ahead, Jack.”

“I’m requesting some financial and telephone records, and there is a possibility that I might need to have a large amount of data processed in a short period of time. I don’t think the parties will be able to produce the material, and I think the judge will probably delay the trial. But the possibility exists that he won’t.”

“Just what are you getting at?”

“I may need an expert to go through this material on a moment’s notice.”

“And you want me to do it?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? I’ll put in for vacation time right away. I may not use it, but we’ll be ready.”

“Charlie, you’re the best.”

“I’m glad you’re starting to finally realize that.”

48

The first thing Monday morning, after his run and swim, Jack faxed his motion to the judge and the DA. Things were about to heat up. For the first time since Pat’s death, Jack felt the blood racing through his veins.

Afterward he stopped at the Pelican for breakfast, sitting at his usual place at the counter. Bill and Eddie were the only other ones there.

They were back on their wives again. It was like a soap opera. You could miss two weeks and pick up right where you left off.

While he and Hannah were chatting, a tall, attractive woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties walked into the diner and sat at the counter two spaces away from Jack. Hannah went over to take her order.

“Coffee?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, please,” the woman replied. “And could I see a menu?” Hannah handed her a menu and went to get the coffee.

“I’ll have two scrambled eggs, home fries, and some whole wheat toast,” she said when Hannah returned.

Behind them, Uncle Bill stood up from the booth where he had been sitting. “I think I’ll go outside for a smoke,” he announced, certain that everyone wanted to know this information. He’d started smoking in the Navy and never given up. Jack had considered launching a personal campaign to get him to stop but decided against it. At eighty-eight, quitting
might be more hazardous to Bill’s health than continuing the deadly habit.

Eddie followed Bill outside to continue their daily conversation about nothing in particular. Hannah headed to the front of the restaurant to wait on a couple who had just come in, leaving Jack alone at the counter next to the young woman.

“Just passing through?” Jack asked. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“No,” the woman replied, turning toward him. “I’m actually here on vacation.”

“Really?” Jack asked, genuinely surprised. “You don’t look like a fisherman, and we don’t get too many vacationers hereabouts these days other than fishermen.”

The young woman smiled shyly. She had short blond hair, brown eyes, and smooth, coffee-toned skin. “I’m in sales,” she said. “I’ve passed through here a few times on my way to Miami, and it looked so peaceful. I’m tired and need a rest, so I thought I’d come here.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Bass Creek Hotel.”

“Good place. They have a fine restaurant too. If you’re looking for a little variety there’s a Mexican restaurant on the other side of town called La Taqueria. They’ve got great food.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “Thank you.”

She was pretty and nice, and for a brief moment Jack considered inviting her to dinner. He dismissed the thought immediately.

“Well, I’ve got a busy day ahead of me. Nice to meet you,” he said as he stood up to leave.

The woman remained seated but extended her hand. “Nice to meet you too,” she replied. “My name is Molly, Molly Anderson.”

Jack took her hand. “Welcome to Bass Creek, Molly Anderson. I’m Jack Tobin.”

He waved good-bye to Hannah as he walked out of the diner.