“Good girl. What did the coroner have as the time of death?”
“The coroner said between seven-thirty and eight-thirty. It was in his report.”
“There you go. Now, Connolly told me she was at the Free Library on Logan Circle. She left at six-thirty and walked home. The shooter was somebody Della Porta buzzed in, and the murder took place almost immediately after. Della Porta was standing at the time and was shot point-blank. He crumpled 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 there must be one. That’s the report we want. We have to find it. It should have been in the police file or the file from Jemison, Crabbe. Check that when we get back to the office.”
“Okay.” Mary was starting to feel useful and she couldn’t see the stain anymore.
“Good. Let’s look at the other rooms.” Bennie left the kitchen, walked through the living room, and entered the bedroom, which was as nondescript as the kitchen. A queen-size bed frame and box spring sat against the wall between two windows, and a walnut veneer dresser against the far wall, with three drawers. Bennie crossed the room and opened the drawers. Nothing.
“Here’s the bathroom.” Mary waved a finger behind her, and Bennie nodded.
“Have a look. I’ll take the other bedroom. I wonder what they used it for.”
Bennie walked to the spare room and stood dumbstruck at the threshold. It was a home office and it looked like a replica of Bennie’s-even the furniture in it was arranged like Bennie’s. Around the walls was a lineup of file cabinet, bookshelves, in the far corner a computer table, then another bookshelf. The table matched Bennie’s; a tall, white workstation from IKEA, with two shelves above the table and pullout trays on each side. Bennie used her trays all the time. Did Connolly?
Bennie walked over to the computer table and pulled the right-hand tray, which slid out with a familiar, gritty sound. Centered on the tray was a brown circle. Bennie knew what it was because hers had one, too: a ring left by a coffee mug. Her gut tensed. Did it mean anything? Logically, no. Most people drink coffee while they work and arrange their home offices the same way. And the lines at IKEA are endless.
“Nothing in the bathroom,” DiNunzio said from the door.
Bennie shook her head. Without knowing why, she crossed the short distance to the door. “There’s a peg here,” she said, and closed the door, revealing a peg stuck from the top panel.
“How did you know that?” Mary asked.
Bennie had a peg in the same place, but she didn’t want to explain that to DiNunzio yet. She needed to know more about Connolly before she gave any credence to this twin business. “Everybody has a peg on the door, don’t they?” she said casually.
“I’m just surprised Connolly did. She never used it. This office was a sty.”
Bennie pivoted in surprise. “How do you know that?”
“The photos, in the file. They were in an envelope from the mobile crime unit.”
Of course. She had forgotten. “Let’s see them.”
“I don’t have them with me.” Mary’s attack of usefulness vanished. “We’re not allowed to take originals out of the office, remember?”
Bennie gritted her teeth. It wasn’t the kid’s fault, so she couldn’t strangle her. “What do the photos show?”
“The apartment with all their stuff in it. You can see how they decorated it. It’s pretty much the same, except for this room. The apartment was neat, but Connolly’s office was a mess.”
“I want to see the photos tonight. Remind me when we get back.”
“Okay, sorry. I didn’t understand.”
“Forget it.” Bennie raked a hand through her hair. Connolly’s home office was a revelation, raising more questions than it answered. It was time to find the answers. “Get Carrier,” she said suddenly. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Downstairs to see the super. I’m renting this apartment.”
“You want to rent this place?” Mary was appalled. “But this is a crime scene.”