Without a Hitch (24 page)

Chapter 28

There was
nothing Corbin or Beckett could do on the case until they met with the judge,
which wouldn’t happen for another week.  In the meantime, Corbin returned to
the Washington office.  He wanted to see if anyone there had heard anything
about the case.  It only took Corbin a few minutes to discover that nothing had
changed in his absence and no one knew anything.  So he sat at his desk
watching the clock.  After lunch, he got bored, so he paid Molly a visit.  Her
desk was covered in catalogs.  She held a dozen more in her lap.

“Hey, you’re a
guy, right?” Molly asked.

“Last time I
checked.”

“Then I need
your help.  In most things, reading you people is like reading a picture book. 
But when it comes to gifts, you’re all absolutely incomprehensible.”

“On behalf of
‘we people’ everywhere, I thank you. . . I think.”  Corbin sat down in the
extra chair by the door after moving Molly’s overcoat from the chair to the
coat rack and setting her purse on the floor.  “Who’s the gift for?”

“Shoe Guy.”

“What’s the
occasion?”

“Birthday.”  Molly
flipped through a catalog, looking for a page she had marked.

“What are we
talking about in terms of price?”

“Price is no
obstacle, but let’s keep it under fifty bucks.”  Molly found the page.  “How
about this?”  She handed Corbin the catalog and indicated a lamp she had
circled.

Corbin frowned. 
“A lamp?  Is his place dark or something?”

“No, but his
decorating stinks.”

“Ok, hold on. 
Before we go any further, I need a little clarification.  Are you trying to get
him something
he
will like or something
you want him to like
?”

Molly pursed her
lips.

“I see.  The key
element is that it makes you happy that he has it.”

“Close enough.”

“What are his
interests?” Corbin asked.

Molly shrugged
her shoulders.  “We spend a lot of time at the movies.  Sometimes we watch TV
at his place.  We go to restaurants.  He seems to like Italian food.”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“What does he do
when you aren’t with him?”

“How the heck
would I know?”

“Don’t you
talk?”

Molly again
pursed her lips.  “You really are testy today, aren’t you?  Trouble with the
perfect girlfriend?”

“No,
everything’s fine,” Corbin answered defensively.  He’d blown Penny off three
nights in a row and he knew that was a mistake.

“Well, you look
stressed.  I’d offer you a massage, but I don’t like you that much.”  Molly
smirked.

“Is this your
attempt to change the subject?”

“No, but you’re
not being helpful asking me about things I couldn’t possibly know,” Molly said
defensively as she grabbed the catalog from Corbin.  “Just answer the question: 
what should I buy him?”

“Buy him a
book.”

Molly’s eyes lit
up.  “A book?!”

“Yes, a book.”

“Good idea! 
They’re cheap.  He might even learn something.”  She smiled.  “This is why it’s
good to keep some of you people around.”

Corbin and Penny
sat at a table near the window.  They were waiting for their meals to arrive. 
She looked mostly at the table and rarely at Corbin, and she hadn’t smiled. 
Corbin noticed, but hadn’t said anything yet.

“You look
tired,” Penny said.

“I feel tired. 
It’s been a long week.”  He sipped his Coke.

“How’s your
aunt?”

“I don’t know
yet,” he replied.  “The next few weeks could make all the difference.”

“Did you call
Blue?” she asked, despite knowing the answer.  She’d spent the week trying to
convince Blue that Corbin had merely forgotten to call.  Blue was particularly
upset Corbin never returned the message where he explained how Rex wanted to
sign him to a record deal and how it was urgent that Corbin call him.  Corbin
deleted that message without listening to it.

Corbin winced
and slapped his forehead.  “Shoot, I forgot to call him,” he lied.

“You should call
him.  He’s got some great news for you.”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t you
ask
him
?” Penny said, trying to emphasize that Corbin needed to call.

“Because I’m
asking you!” Corbin blurted out, surprising both Penny and himself.  “Wow, I’m
sorry.  I’ve been dealing with some difficult people all week.  That has me on
edge.  I didn’t mean that.  I really didn’t.”

Penny kept
looking at the table.

“I really am
sorry,” he repeated.  “Forgive me?”

“Is that why you
didn’t return my calls all week?”

“Yes.  I’m sorry
about that.  I just got so carried away with everything going on.  I literally
never had a moment to myself.”

“You’ll call
Blue?”

“Yes, I’ll call
Blue.  I swear.”

Penny seemed
placated, but for the first time they ran out of things to talk about.

Chapter 29

Corbin returned
to Philadelphia the day before the hearing.  It was 11:30 in the morning. 
Beckett was on the phone trying to track down witnesses.  Ever since he bombed
Corbin’s cross examination, Beaumont had started oozing helpfulness; witnesses
were his latest offering.  Corbin knew Beckett would be tied up for at least an
hour.  This presented him with the chance he had been waiting for to search
Beckett’s hotel.

To make sure
Beckett wouldn’t leave the office, Corbin asked Beckett to watch for a fax they
were expecting from Judge Sutherlin’s clerk, regarding their first scheduled
hearing.  He told Beckett the fax would contain the hearing date and time and
might need an immediate reply.  In truth, the fax was already safely hidden in
Corbin’s briefcase.  Corbin then excused himself, ostensibly to get some lunch.

As he stepped
into the Tribune Building elevator, Corbin double-checked his pocket to make
sure he had the electronic keycard which would let him into Beckett’s hotel
room.  Corbin took the key earlier from Beckett’s desk when Beckett visited the
restroom.  The name and address of the hotel and Beckett’s room number were on
the paper sleeve in which the card rested.

The hotel was
six blocks away.  Corbin jogged most of the way.  As he entered the hotel, he
walked right past the front desk without stopping.  The clerk hardly noticed
him.  When he reached room 214, Corbin inserted the key.  It clicked.  Corbin
entered the room.  Beckett’s personal effects were spread everywhere.  Corbin
searched everything, even between the mattresses, but found no wallet and no
stacks of cash.  After replacing everything the way he found it, Corbin made
his way to the parking garage.  He knew Beckett’s car, as he’d been in it many
times.  He also knew the driver-side door lock was broken, so he didn’t need to
smash a window.  His search came up empty.

An annoyed
Corbin returned to the office, where he found Beckett watching television in
the conference room.

“Guess what?”  Beckett
pointed to the television.

Eddie Pierce,
the District Attorney, was on television talking about Beaumont’s case.  Behind
him stood the grim Hillary Morales.  “Yes, this is part of our zero-tolerance
policy,” Pierce said.  He had the manner of a circus ringmaster with the
permanent smile of a car salesman.  “I’m determined to get these criminals off
our streets no matter what it takes.  If that means taking them down for less
serious crimes, that’s fine by me.  Every day someone like Mr. Beaumont is off
the streets, the safer our community will be.  It worked with Al Capone, it
will work here.  Sometimes the tried and true methods are the best.”

“Could you give
us some background on Beaumont,” asked one of the reporters.

“Certainly,
Beaumont’s been implicated in a series of crimes in the past.  He’s the sole
suspect in a double homicide that occurred two years ago, though he could not
be prosecuted when the witness against him turned up beaten to death in the
river.”

“Do you have
enough evidence to convict him on this new charge?” asked another reporter.

“That’s up to
the jury.  All I can say is I’m confident of our case.”

“How long would
he serve?”

“If convicted of
all charges, he could serve up to seventy-five years.”

“‘Seventy-five
years!” Corbin exclaimed.

“Yeah, they
added a bunch of charges,” Beckett said, pointing to a package which had been delivered
by courier only a few minutes before.  “See what you can come up with to
dismiss some of these charges or suppress the evidence.  I’ve got a couple
ideas already.”

“I’ll add that
to the list,” Corbin said bitterly.

Beckett turned
off the television.  “Let’s split up the videos.  There’s a lot of footage
there and we should check it all.”  Beckett pointed at a box containing half a
dozen bank surveillance video cassettes.  These were delivered by the same
courier.  “Verify the notes they gave us about what’s supposed to be on the tapes
and look for anything suspicious.”

Corbin took two
of the tapes.  “I hope these have a better plot than the first tape.”

“What’d they
want?!” Sgt. Warner Russell demanded, accosting his former partner the moment
Webb stepped into the police station.

“Who?” Webb
asked, pushing past Russell.

“Beaumont’s
attorney!”  Russell grabbed Webb’s arm to stop him.

Webb shook
Russell’s hand from his arm.  “How would I know?”

“You met with ’em,”
Russell said in a low, accusing voice.

“I haven’t met
with anybody.”

“Don’t give me
that shit!  They wanted to meet with you, and now they ain’t asking to meet
with you’se no more.  That means you met with ’em.”

“No, it doesn’t,
and no, I didn’t.”

“Don’t fuck with
me, rookie,” Russell barked.  “I got a right to know what they wanted.”

“You’ve got a
‘right’?”

“Yeah, I got a
right ’cause my ass is in the sling on this one, and don’t you forget, your ass
is first in line.  You signed that report, so you better be straight with me if
you want this thing to go away.”

“Why, Russ?  Are
you gonna turn me in?” he laughed.

Russell snapped
his head around quickly to see who might be listening.  “Keep your damn voice
down.  All I’m saying,” he was whispering now, “is your name is on that
report.  If you want to keep this from blowin’ up on you, we gotta stick
together.”

“Uh huh, sure.”  Webb
ran his tongue over his lips.  “I called Beaumont’s lawyer and told him I had
nothing to say.  What about you?  What did you tell him?”

“They never
asked to talk to me.”

Webb raised an
eyebrow, but didn’t follow up.  “All right, let me know if that changes,” he
said and walked away.

Russell watched
him leave.  “Fucker,” he said under his breath.

Corbin pointed
to the television screen.  They were watching the surveillance video from First
Regional.  “Here it comes.  There, see it. . . the guy in the red shirt.”

“That’s not
Beaumont,” Beckett agreed.

“No, not even
close.  But that’s who they’ve identified as Beaumont.  The time code
corresponds with the transaction Beaumont supposedly made, and I’ve looked at
every frame of the video, frame by frame, for two hours in either direction. 
This is the only guy it could be.  He’s even wearing the red shirt the teller
mentions in her statement.”  Corbin chose not to mention that Alvarez could be
seen standing slightly behind the man in the red shirt in the video.

“You’re sure
Beaumont isn’t anywhere else on the tape?”

“Absolutely. 
I’ve seen every frame of it.  Same thing with the Penn Bancorp tape.  I don’t
see anything that looks like Beaumont.”

“Is this all
they gave us?  No other surveillance tapes?  No ATM videos?  There should be dozens
of those.”

“These are the
only tapes they’ve given us.  My guess is they stopped asking for tapes when
Beaumont didn’t show up on the tapes they had.”  Corbin handed Beckett some
papers.  “I’ve got a request for the prosecutor to identify everywhere they
looked for tapes.  I’ve also started working on some motions.  I’ve got a
motion to suppress the manager’s testimony because she didn’t identify Beaumont
until after they showed her a photo of Beaumont.  That’s an illegal line up. 
I’ve got some motions about the tapes and one about the gun.  I don’t know how
you want to handle the teller, the one who identifies Beaumont as the guy in
the red shirt?  She’s clearly wrong about it being Beaumont, but that’s not a
legal reason to keep her testimony out.”

“No, we’ll have
to deal with that at trial,” Beckett agreed.

“We could still
try, kind of a shot in the dark?”

“No, let’s not
tip our hand.  If we get to the point where the prosecution is thinking about
dismissing the case, then it might be the shove we need.  But anything short of
that, we’re better off saving that surprise for trial.”  Beckett scratched his
chin.  “On the Penn Bancorp video, if the judge refuses to exclude the
manager’s testimony, then we need to show the whole tape to show he’s not
there.”

“That’ll be
fun,” Corbin said sarcastically.  “We have eleven hours of tape from Penn Bancorp
that day.  I’ll write something up.”

“What else have
you got?”

“I’ve got a
motion to dismiss the gun charge for lack of evidence.  I can’t see the judge
granting that one, but it’s worth a shot to remind him they need to prove every
part of the crime.”  Corbin flipped through some of his notes.  “I’ve got a
motion to keep out any mention of prior crimes or suspicions of crimes.  I’ve
got a request for the complete file on Beaumont; we only have parts of it.”

“That’s not
unusual.  Prosecutors like to play games.”

“That’s all I
have for now, but I’m still working.”

Judge Immanuel
Sutherlin’s office was stiflingly hot.  Two radiator heaters near the door to
the hallway clanked and sizzled all day, causing the windows to steam up.  The
windows were tall, but not wide.  Beneath the windows ran a knee-high, built-in
shelf from one end of the twenty foot office to the other.  A series of legal
books sat on top of the shelf, as did three plants, one under each window.  A
large mahogany desk dominated the room, though it was buried under two dozen
files.  Photos and various certificates hung on the walls.  On the other side
of Sutherlin’s desk were two studded leather chairs with rounded wooden arms. 
They looked like something you might find in a museum to the 1930s.  Another
four identical chairs stood against the wall, opposite Sutherlin, by the
radiators.  A green and gold Persian rug covered the floor.  It lay over the
gray commercial carpet found throughout the rest of the building’s offices and
in the courtrooms; the hallways were tile, which made them incredibly noisy as
people’s footsteps echoed.  To Sutherlin’s right was another door, which led to
a smaller office where his clerk and his secretary worked.

Sutherlin was
nothing like Judge D’Amato.  He was a great deal older, quite a bit testier,
and he didn’t talk with people so much as talk at them.  Where she had an easy
manner and presented an aura of practicality, Sutherlin’s manner was
exceedingly formal and precise.  As he read through Corbin and Beckett’s
motions, he scratched notes in the margins.  All eyes were on his thick, white,
perfectly-coiffed hair and his starched white shirt.  His robe hung from a
hanger in the corner.

“Mr., ah,
Beckett.  I have reviewed your motions.  Is there anything you wish to add that
isn’t already covered in your memoranda?”  Sutherlin asked in a deep, dominating
voice which filled the room and demanded attention.  He looked at Beckett over
the top of his glasses.  Beckett sat on the other side of Sutherlin’s desk,
next to the dapper Eddie Pierce, the District Attorney.  Corbin and Hillary
Morales sat behind them, against the wall.

“Yes, Your Honor,
thank you.”  Beckett flipped a few pages in his notes.  “We’ve looked at the
prosecution’s filings and we simply can’t find any evidence linking Mr.
Beaumont to most of the charges.  There are no witnesses placing him in the
banks and there’s no evidence linking him to the documents in question—”

“Your Honor, the
police found the documents at his residence,” Pierce said, interrupting Beckett. 
Pierce wore a black checkered suit with a red handkerchief sticking out of the
suit’s breast pocket.  Platinum cufflinks became visible whenever he moved his
arms, which he did whenever he spoke.

“There’s no
evidence placing Beaumont in the banks or showing that he ever opened the
accounts,” Beckett countered.

“Mr. Beckett,
how do we know the defendant didn’t have an associate open the account for
him?” Sutherlin asked.  “You want the case dismissed because there is allegedly
no evidence Mr. Beaumont entered these banks, but how do you know he didn’t
have an associate?”

“The state hasn’t
made that allegation, Your Honor,” Beckett responded.  “Nor have they produced
any witnesses to that effect.”

“The case is
still young, Mr. Beckett.  Your motion to dismiss is denied.  Though I will
consider the motion again should the state fail to demonstrate a connection
between Mr. Beaumont and these documents at trial.”  Sutherlin made some
additional notes.  “Let’s talk about this videotape.  What is the problem with
the videotape, Mr. Beckett?”

“With regard to
the First Regional tape, we are moving to exclude the testimony of the teller
and the videotape.  First, the videotape has no date or time stamp.  Thus we
have no way to know when it was made.”

“I presume the
teller can testify as to when it was made,” Sutherlin responded.

“We also
challenge the testimony of the manager from Penn Bancorp, because she was shown
a picture of Mr. Beaumont before she was asked to identify him.”

“And you think
that tainted the identification?” Sutherlin asked.

“Yes, Your Honor,”
Beckett responded.

“But she does
identify him as the man with whom she dealt,” Pierce said.

“Motion denied.”

Beckett frowned,
causing Sutherlin to smirk.  “Don’t worry, Mr. Beckett.  You’re an experienced
trial attorney.  I’m sure you can make your case effectively to the jury.”

“We’re also
moving to dismiss the gun charge, again for lack of evidence.”

“Denied.”

Beckett stared
at the Judge for a moment.  Sutherlin stared back coldly.

“What about our
motion to exclude any mention of prior crimes or suspicions of crimes?”

“I’m going to
defer my ruling on that one, Mr. Beckett, until it becomes clear what the
prosecution intends to do to prove their case. . . but I will grant your
request for the entire file.”  Sutherlin looked at Eddie Pierce.  “You are
ordered to provide a complete copy of the file to Mr. Beckett within five
days.”