“What does that have to do with your client on death row?”
“Well, apparently when a crime occurs, a similar phenomenon takes place. Eyewitnesses pop out of the woodwork. Criminals with information to sell about other criminals.”
“True information?” Pat asked.
“Who knows? Truth is what a prosecutor thinks he can sell to a jury.”
“Really? Is that what happened in Henry’s case?”
“Wofford Benton thinks it’s possible, and he was Henry’s trial lawyer. The state had no physical evidence against Henry. This guy David Hawke gave them a credible story and they went with it.
“Listen to this. I found a transcript of a conversation Wofford Benton had with a guy named James Vernon, who said he was at the murder scene with two other guys, neither of whom was Henry Wilson. And one of those two other guys slit Clarence Williams’s throat.”
“If that’s the case, how did Henry get convicted?”
“Well, Wofford called Vernon to the stand, and Vernon took the Fifth. There was another witness Vernon had told the story to, a lawyer named Ted Griffin, and Wofford never called him to the stand.”
“Why not?”
“He just forgot, I guess. He doesn’t remember ever talking to Griffin.”
“You’re kidding me!” Pat said. “Is this Wofford Benton who forgot about the other witness still practicing?”
“Practicing? He’s a circuit judge! That’s the guy I went to see. And by the way, none of this evidence means that Wilson is innocent.”
“You’re losing me, Jack.”
“James Vernon told two people two different stories, so he could have been lying.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to keep on working and see how it all shakes out. I’ll talk to the other witness, Ted Griffin, the lawyer, and listen to what he has to say.”
Later that evening, as they both lay in bed, Pat revisited their earlier conversation.
“Has your gut feeling about Henry changed?”
“I don’t know. I’m still a little too confused.”
“Well, it’ll come to you, Jack.” She kissed him softly. Then they made love. As they moved slowly, rhythmically, Pat felt a sudden stabbing pain in her abdomen. Her body went into spasm and their lovemaking ended abruptly.
“What’s the matter?” Jack asked. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, no, honey-nothing like that. I think it’s that stomach pain from the gallbladder surgery. It’s never been this severe, though. Maybe it’s just the position we were in. I’m sure it will go away.”
“The same pain you’ve told Dr. Hawthorne about for almost a year now?”
“Well, it’s never been this bad. He says it can take up to a year for these things to heal. I have some pain medication but I just don’t like to take it.”
“Has Hawthorne given you a CT scan?”
“No.”
“Well, don’t take this the wrong way, honey: Hawthorne may be a good doctor, but he’s a primary-care guy. Let me set up an appointment with somebody I know in Miami, okay?”
“Jack, it’s not necessary. It’s just a minor pain.”
“I’m probably overreacting, but humor me, okay? Let me set up the appointment?”
“All right,” she said and nestled her head in his chest and went to sleep.
Jack stayed awake for a very long time.
8
Melvin Gertz was short and slight, and he had a huge nose that took over his small, narrow face, making him look a little lopsided. He also had a permanent five o’clock shadow, and to make matters worse, his blue doorman’s uniform always looked like he’d slept in it the night before. No wonder this guy works the night shift, Nick Walsh thought as Melvin opened the front door of the apartment building for him and Tony Severino.
Melvin wasn’t exactly overjoyed at seeing the two detectives either.
“I told the cop last night I don’t know nothing. People come and go. I open the door for them. That’s it.”
This was a guy who needed Nick’s special brand of persuasion. Nick didn’t need any prompting.
“Melvin, you think you don’t know anything, but you may have a valuable piece of information. You could give us something that could help us solve the whole case.”
“Me? Really? You guys are pulling my leg.”
“No we’re not,” said Nick. “It happens all the time. Remember the cabbie who delivered the baby in the backseat just last week in the Bronx? It was all over the news.”
Melvin was confused. “Yeah, I remember that, but what’s that got to do with me?”
“You give us information that blows open this case, you’re going to be a hero just like that cabdriver.”
“I already told ya, I don’t know nothing.”
“You let us be the judge of that. You just tell us everything you’ve seen. And when the TV cameras are on you and the news reporters are fighting for a quote, put in a good word for Tony and me, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Melvin said as he took a pen and pad from his uniform pocket. “What’s your names again?”
Nick noticed that Tony Severino had turned his back to them. His partner couldn’t keep from laughing at Melvin’s gullibility. Nick handed the doorman a card with both his and Tony’s name on it.
“That’s me, Detective Nicholas Walsh. You can call me Nick.”
“And you can call me Philly,” Melvin told Nick. “That’s what everybody calls me.”
“How come?” Nick asked.
“Well, when I was a kid, I loved Philly cheesesteaks. Everybody in the neighborhood started calling me Philly and the name stuck. And I kinda like it too. I never liked Melvin-never forgave my mother for that one.”
Nick knew what Melvin-Philly was talking about. A lot of guys in his neighborhood had nicknames that had stuck for life.
Once Philly got to feeling good and started talking, he was a treasure trove of information, as Nick knew he would be.
“Two nights before the murder, she comes home with this beautiful woman-tall, dark hair, a knockout.”
Nick interrupted. “You’re talking about Angie coming home with a woman?”
“Yeah, Angie. I didn’t think anything of it, you know. I figured they were just friends or something. Anyway, when I came on the next night, I was telling the day guy about how good-looking this broad was when the two of them come walking out dressed to the nines. They weren’t holding hands or anything like that but-what am I trying to say-they looked like they were together, if you know what I mean. Then the day guy tells me he didn’t see them all day. I don’t want to say anything bad about anybody, you know what I mean-I’m just telling you what I saw.”
“Great, Philly. It’s exactly what we want-your observations.”
That was when Philly laid the big bombshell on Nick and Tony.
“Speaking of seeing things-there’s two gay guys on the first floor here who saw the guy who did it. They say he ran right by their window, stopped, and practically posed for them. They were pretty surprised that nobody came by to talk to them.”
Nick looked at Tony, who shrugged his shoulders, letting Nick know he didn’t have a clue.
“See what I mean, Philly?” Nick said. “We didn’t even know about those guys. This is the kind of stuff that’s gonna get you in the newspapers.”
“Well, I better get my uniform clean and get a haircut. My wife won’t believe this.”
Nick was trying to get a picture in his mind of the woman who was married to Melvin “Philly” Gertz. Probably an old battle-axe who leads him around by the nose, he thought as he looked at that nose again. She’s certainly got a lot to work with.
“Those two guys,” he asked, “would they happen to be in right now?”
“They sure are, and they’ll want to talk to you. I know you guys are macho cops and everything, but Paul and David, they’re really great.”
“I’ll take your word for that, Philly. Why don’t you give them a buzz and see if we can talk to them right now.”