and fell backward, face-up. It’s all consistent with the M.E.’s report, that’s what they’re going to say. You think I’m right, DiNunzio?”
“That’s what they’ll say.”
Judy looked puzzled. “You know what I don’t get? It’s a long walk here from the library, an hour or more. Why did she walk? There’s buses, cabs, everything.”
“I don’t know, maybe she likes to walk.”
“Then she has no alibi. If she left at six-thirty, she could still be walking home at the time of the murder.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Judy swallowed hard, then risked job termination. “Did she do it?”
“She’s our client, Carrier. Whether she did it or not is beside the point.” Bennie checked her growing annoyance. “Legal Ethics 101. It’s not prosecutors on one side and defense lawyers on the other, with equal and opposite functions. That’s sloppy thinking. The roles are different in kind. The prosecution is supposed to seek justice, and the defense is supposed to get the defendant acquitted.”
“You don’t think Connolly’s guilt is relevant? What about justice?”
“Connolly is my client, so I have to save her life. My job is about loyalty. Is that noble enough for you?”
Judy cocked her head. “So it’s a conflict between justice and loyalty.”
“Welcome to the profession.”
Mary heard the edge to Bennie’s voice and recognized it as anxiety. If Bennie and Connolly were the twins they appeared to be at the emergency hearing, Mary could imagine the strain Bennie was feeling. Judy, who hadn’t been at the hearing, was missing the point.
“Then I’m confused,” Judy said. “If we’re not solving a murder, why are we here?”
Bennie looked at Judy directly. “We need to understand the D.A.’s case and develop a credible theory of what happened that night. When we get into that courtroom, the jurors have to look to us as the font of all knowledge, so they take that confidence in us into the jury room. Shall I go on?”
“No, but—” Judy started to say, and Bennie waved her off.
“We don’t have time to discuss this any longer. Connolly has a right to effective counsel, so get effective. Take pictures.” Bennie glanced around the living room, bothered. Carrier’s question had been nagging at her from the beginning. Did Connolly do it? Bennie didn’t think so, but why? She suppressed the thought. “This place is too fucking clean. Let’s start with the kitchen, DiNunzio, and check through in an orderly way.”
“Okay,” Mary said, though Bennie was already at the threshold to the kitchen, hands on her hips.
It was a small galley kitchen with cherrywood cabinets, new appliances, and a fancy Sub-Zero refrigerator. Bennie opened the cabinets, which were empty except for one stocked with heavy white dishes. She double-checked the others, which were bare, then went to the window. “Who called 911 about the gunshot, DiNunzio?”
“Mrs. Lambertsen, from next door. She testified at the prelim. She also saw Connolly run by, and so did other neighbors. Three or four, I remember reading.”
Bennie nodded. “Assume 911 dispatch gets the call and radios it out right away. Who was the first patrol car to respond?”
“I have to check that.”
Mary slid out the accordion, pulled out a folder, and thumbed through it with Bennie at her shoulder. Yellow highlighting striped every page, evidence of DiNunzio’s careful work, and Bennie thought the associate would make a fine lawyer if she’d just get out of her own way. “Here it is,” Mary said. “Patrol Officers Pichetti and Luz.”
“Not McShea and Reston?” Bennie thought a minute. “Where were Pichetti and Luz when they got the call?”
Mary ran her finger down the page. “A couple blocks away, at Seventh and Pine.”
“What we need to know is where Reston and McShea were and why they were so close to Della Porta’s apartment.”
“The file doesn’t have a report from them.”
“I’m not surprised, but
“That’s what they’ll say.”
Judy looked puzzled. “You know what I don’t get? It’s a long walk here from the library, an hour or more. Why did she walk? There’s buses, cabs, everything.”
“I don’t know, maybe she likes to walk.”
“Then she has no alibi. If she left at six-thirty, she could still be walking home at the time of the murder.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Judy swallowed hard, then risked job termination. “Did she do it?”
“She’s our client, Carrier. Whether she did it or not is beside the point.” Bennie checked her growing annoyance. “Legal Ethics 101. It’s not prosecutors on one side and defense lawyers on the other, with equal and opposite functions. That’s sloppy thinking. The roles are different in kind. The prosecution is supposed to seek justice, and the defense is supposed to get the defendant acquitted.”
“You don’t think Connolly’s guilt is relevant? What about justice?”
“Connolly is my client, so I have to save her life. My job is about loyalty. Is that noble enough for you?”
Judy cocked her head. “So it’s a conflict between justice and loyalty.”
“Welcome to the profession.”
Mary heard the edge to Bennie’s voice and recognized it as anxiety. If Bennie and Connolly were the twins they appeared to be at the emergency hearing, Mary could imagine the strain Bennie was feeling. Judy, who hadn’t been at the hearing, was missing the point.
“Then I’m confused,” Judy said. “If we’re not solving a murder, why are we here?”
Bennie looked at Judy directly. “We need to understand the D.A.’s case and develop a credible theory of what happened that night. When we get into that courtroom, the jurors have to look to us as the font of all knowledge, so they take that confidence in us into the jury room. Shall I go on?”
“No, but—” Judy started to say, and Bennie waved her off.
“We don’t have time to discuss this any longer. Connolly has a right to effective counsel, so get effective. Take pictures.” Bennie glanced around the living room, bothered. Carrier’s question had been nagging at her from the beginning. Did Connolly do it? Bennie didn’t think so, but why? She suppressed the thought. “This place is too fucking clean. Let’s start with the kitchen, DiNunzio, and check through in an orderly way.”
“Okay,” Mary said, though Bennie was already at the threshold to the kitchen, hands on her hips.
It was a small galley kitchen with cherrywood cabinets, new appliances, and a fancy Sub-Zero refrigerator. Bennie opened the cabinets, which were empty except for one stocked with heavy white dishes. She double-checked the others, which were bare, then went to the window. “Who called 911 about the gunshot, DiNunzio?”
“Mrs. Lambertsen, from next door. She testified at the prelim. She also saw Connolly run by, and so did other neighbors. Three or four, I remember reading.”
Bennie nodded. “Assume 911 dispatch gets the call and radios it out right away. Who was the first patrol car to respond?”
“I have to check that.”
Mary slid out the accordion, pulled out a folder, and thumbed through it with Bennie at her shoulder. Yellow highlighting striped every page, evidence of DiNunzio’s careful work, and Bennie thought the associate would make a fine lawyer if she’d just get out of her own way. “Here it is,” Mary said. “Patrol Officers Pichetti and Luz.”
“Not McShea and Reston?” Bennie thought a minute. “Where were Pichetti and Luz when they got the call?”
Mary ran her finger down the page. “A couple blocks away, at Seventh and Pine.”
“What we need to know is where Reston and McShea were and why they were so close to Della Porta’s apartment.”
“The file doesn’t have a report from them.”
“I’m not surprised, but
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