“No.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yeh.”
“You didn’t hear Angelo Coluzzi say anything?”
“No.”
Judy made a note. NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO TELL US YOU HEARD ANGELO COLUZZI CONFESS TO A DOUBLE MURDER. Santoro looked over at Judy from his counsel table, and she knew she had him wondering what else had been said in that back room, and if it made a difference. Let him sweat. “Let’s change gears, Mr. Bello. Are you married or single?”
“I’m, uh, divorced.”
“I see. And are you related to the Coluzzi family in any way?”
“Yeh.”
“How so?”
“Uh?”
ENGLISH, PLEASE. “I mean, how exactly are you related to the Coluzzis?”
“I’m a second cousin, twice removed. I think. My father Guido married somebody’s second cousin.”
GUIDO. NOT TONY? “I see. And how long have you worked for the Coluzzi family?”
“Objection, no foundation, Your Honor,” Santoro said, popping up, but Judy waved him off.
“I’ll rephrase. Mr. Bello, do you work for the Coluzzi family?”
“Yeh.”
GLAD WE CLEARED THAT UP. “What is your job, Mr. Bello?”
“Office.”
“You work in their construction office?”
Jimmy seemed unsure. “Yeh. I help out.”
“How?”
“Whatever Angelo axed me to do, I do.”
“Like an assistant?”
Santoro stood up again. “Objection as to relevance and beyond the scope, Your Honor.”
“Overruled.” Judge Maniloff looked up from papers he had been reading. “I think the defendant is entitled to know something about the primary witness against him, don’t you, counsel?”
NO, HE DOESN’T, Judy wrote, but Santoro didn’t answer and sank into his seat. She cleared her throat. “So, Mr. Bello, did you say you were a personal assistant?”
Jimmy frowned at the term. “Kinda.”
“And were you a personal assistant to Angelo Coluzzi, or are you to John Coluzzi, or to Marco Coluzzi?” Then she added, because she couldn’t resist, “In his various businesses?”
“I guess, the whole family now. I’m like an office assistant.” Jimmy looked over at the front row uncertainly, and Judy acted like she didn’t notice. She didn’t want him coached out of it; she wanted him to repeat it in front of the jury, when she could get mileage out of it.
“And how long have you been an office assistant to the Coluzzi family, Mr. Bello?”
“Thirty-five years.”
Judy made a note. NOW WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE. “I see. And how much do you currently earn as their office assistant, Mr. Bello?”
“Objection!” Santoro said, shooting up like a booster rocket, but Judy wasn’t having any.
“Your Honor, how can it be of no relevance that the primary witness is on the family payroll?”
Judge Maniloff arched a graying eyebrow. “I’ll allow it, tiger, but do finish up here.”
Judy smiled. “Thank you, Your Honor.” IT’S GOOD WHEN A JUDGE CALLS YOU TIGER. “Mr. Bello, you were telling us what the Coluzzis pay you. Please proceed.”
Jimmy paused, undoubtedly trying to remember the difference between what he earned and what he reported. “Fifteen grand a year.”
EEEK. YOU NEED A LAWYER. Judy closed her pad and stepped away from the podium. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”
“Excellent,” Judge Maniloff said, nodding at the district attorney. “Mr. Santoro, your next witness?”
“Commonwealth calls Dr. Patel to the stand.” Santoro stood up, turned to the second row, and gestured like Vanna White to Dr. Patel, reducing the distinguished medical examiner to the status of a free refrigerator. The medical examiner took the stand, raised his hand politely, and was sworn in.
“Please identify yourself for the record, Dr. Patel.”
“My name is Voresh Patel,” the coroner said, his voice soft and professional. He had the same kind brown eyes and steel-framed glasses Judy remembered from the autopsy, and he wore a trim brown suit. She would have to question him with care, because she didn’t want to show her hand.
“Dr. Patel, what is your profession?” Santoro asked.
“I am an assistant medical examiner for the County of Philadelphia.”
“I see. And did you perform the postmortem examination on the body of Angelo Coluzzi?”
“I did.”
“And when did that take place, Dr. Patel?”
“The day after the body was taken to the morgue.” Dr. Patel thought a minute, his eyes rolling heavenward. “April eighteenth, I believe.”
Santoro nodded, rolling a pencil between his fingers. “And did you form an opinion about the cause and manner of Angelo Coluzzi’s death, Dr. Patel?”
“Yes, it is my opinion that the cause of the decedent’s death was a homicide and the mechanism was a fractured vertebrae at C3.”
Santoro gripped his pencil. “In common parlance does that mean a broken neck, Dr. Patel?”
“Yes.”
“I have no further questions, Dr. Patel.” Santoro moved aside and sat down, as Judy rose with her legal pad. She stepped behind the podium.
“Dr. Patel, there has been testimony that the decedent fell against a bookcase. Just so the record is clear, did that fall have anything to do with Mr. Coluzzi’s death?”
“Objection, beyond the scope,” Santoro said, half rising, but Judge Maniloff was already shaking his head.
“Overruled, counselor. Please, let’s move along.”
Dr. Patel looked at Judy. “No, the decedent was dead by the time he fell.”
Judy wanted to nail him down. It would avoid sympathy for Coluzzi later, at trial. “And you can be sure of that?”
“Yes.”
“I have no further questions, Dr. Patel.” Judy grabbed her pad and sat down as Judge Maniloff reached for the next case filed and opened it.
“Mr. Lucia, I find that the Commonwealth has proved a prima facie case of murder sufficient to support their indictment on a general charge of murder, and I order you held over for trial. Your attorney will inform you of the schedule of further court appearances, sir.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Judy said, almost at the same time as Santoro. It was the last time they’d show any unanimity. She looked over at Pigeon Tony. “Now all we have to do is get you out of here.” As they had discussed, Frank left the gallery instantly to stand behind Pigeon Tony, and two courthouse security officers came from the side to flank him, as they would a prisoner in custody. They’d escort him out the secured exit to a waiting car Frank had rented. “I’ve made arrangements to get you out a secure way, where they take prisoners, so you’ll be safe.”
“I no afraid,” Pigeon Tony said quietly, but even with the precautions, Judy found herself wondering if they made bulletproof vests in a size 6X. The Lucia side of the gallery was lingering, evidently making sure that Pigeon Tony got out alive. The Coluzzi faction also filed out slowly, with Marco going with his mother, and John stalling, ostensibly to join Fat Jimmy. Each man eyed Judy pointedly, and if looks could kill, they’d already be in handcuffs.
Judge Maniloff began banging his gavel, loudly this time, his voice more urgent than during the procedure. “Clear the courtroom, please. Clear the courtroom immediately!”
Judy stood guard as Frank guided Pigeon Tony from his chair, and the guards flanked them quickly. “You got him?” she asked Frank, who smiled tensely.
“Don’t worry about him, worry about you.” He glanced back at the gallery, where John Coluzzi stood with Fat Jimmy, his dark gaze morphing into an undisguised glare.
“We’re ready to go, Mr. Lucia,” said one of the security guards, but Frank’s jaw clenched with anger.
“We go nowhere until that asshole is gone and she’s safe.”