It was always high noon in a murder trial, but only one man took the risk of getting dead.
Santoro’s next witness was a woman from Mobile Crime, a tall brunette with a black suit, a severe ponytail, and thick glasses, who testified that she had collected fibers from the clothes of Angelo Coluzzi that came from Pigeon Tony’s clothes. She was absolutely credible, and Judy barely objected, since it wasn’t inconsistent with her case for the defense. And her thoughts were elsewhere, as she tried to figure out what Santoro was doing and ways she could meet whatever it was in her case.
It was clearly the morning for police testimony, because his next witness was another crime tech, a red-haired young man who had taken photographs of the scene. Santoro’s only purpose was to show the photographs of Coluzzi’s body to the jury, over Judy’s objection. She could do little but watch them as they looked uncomfortably at the grim photos, which Santoro had enlarged on a projection screen in the front of the courtroom. They swallowed hard at the sad sight, and Coluzzi looked horrible in photo after photo, his dark eyes sunken, his body as small and frail as Judy had remembered. The slides weren’t bloody, but somehow their very ordinariness spoke with a more subtle eloquence. Two jurors looked away, and even Pigeon Tony blinked.
But Judy was suddenly grateful for the bulletproof sheet muting the reaction of the gallery. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Coluzzi’s widow crying and John Coluzzi holding her as she sobbed. The entire Coluzzi side of the courtroom was red-faced and teary, but the Lucia side remained still. Sketch artists drew madly, kept busy not only by the scene in the courtroom but by the one in the gallery, and the reporters scribbled their squiggles of old-fashioned shorthand. The Tonys had no reaction, and Frank kept eyeing the Coluzzis. Judy would have to talk to him at the noon recess and find out what he knew.
For the first time in her life, she wasn’t looking forward to lunch.
Chapter 42
The courthouse conference room suddenly felt smaller than Judy remembered, but maybe that was because she was facing off against her lover. She stood on one side of the table and Frank on the other. The fluorescent lights were harsh and glaring. An uneaten pizza sat steaming in its box on the table. In two swivel chairs sat Pigeon Tony and Bennie, reduced to a captive audience.
“You didn’t tell me, Judy,” Frank said, his tone an accusation and his mouth tight with hurt. Pain filled his eyes, which looked bloodshot from a night without sleep. “You knew Coluzzi killed my parents and you didn’t tell me.”
Judy felt her face flush. “Your grandfather told you what Coluzzi said.”
“Yes. He didn’t want to, but he did.”
Pigeon Tony was shaking his head with regret. “Sorry, Judy. He no stop. He ask, ask, ask, ask. He scream and yell. He no give up. Like father.”
But Frank ignored him. “He also told me about my parents’ truck, which you found, and have, incredibly enough—and the report you got from an expert who examined the wreck. You know more about my parents’ death than I do, Judy. You knew all along. And you didn’t tell me!”
“I couldn’t. It was privileged.”
“Bullshit!” Frank raised his voice, then glanced nervously at the conference room door. “You could have told me! I don’t want to hear about this privilege shit!” Frank caught himself and lowered his voice. “You’re not my lawyer. You’re supposed to be my lover. My friend. Everything. I took that seriously, but evidently you didn’t.”
Judy went hot with embarrassment. She didn’t want to be having this conversation in a courthouse, in front of other people, much less Bennie, so she said as much.
“This is the time and place, Judy, and you didn’t tell me about my parents’ murder because you were afraid I’d retaliate. You both were!” Frank cast a scornful glance that managed to encompass both Judy and Pigeon Tony. “That’s why you two kept your mouth shut. You both decided what my reaction should be, and it wasn’t the one you wanted, so you didn’t tell me. But that wasn’t for either of you to decide. They were my parents! I am their only son! I had a right to know they were murdered.”
“But we don’t know that they were!” Judy couldn’t help but shout. “Think logically. Coluzzi told your grandfather he killed them, and I didn’t tell you that. Granted. But before you go off half-cocked, you should understand that there’s no proof that Coluzzi was telling the truth. I don’t think he did it.”
Pigeon Tony was nodding. “He did it.”
“He did it!” Frank agreed.
“You don’t know that,” Judy said. “In fact, I have, or had, tapes of Coluzzi discussing the night your parents had the accident. There’s not a word on them about the murder or your parents. Nothing.”
“Tapes, from where?” Frank demanded, and even Pigeon Tony looked over. She hadn’t mentioned the tapes to either of them. “What tapes? Videotapes?”
“Phone tapes.”
“Phone tapes? Of Coluzzi? Who was he discussing it with?”
Judy thought better of it. She didn’t want Frank attacking Jimmy Bello, not before she had her chance with him on cross-examination. “It doesn’t matter. But I had them, and they said nothing. And the expert I hired said the accident was only an accident, as did the cops. They can’t all be wrong, Frank. Use your head, not your heart.”
But Frank’s anger became unfocused. “Who was Coluzzi on the phone with? Who? And where did you get the tapes?”
“I’m not telling you that, and you have to trust me. They don’t prove anything. Nothing proves anything. I think it was an accident. I didn’t think it before that accident expert, but now I do.”
“I don’t need proof. Coluzzi admitted it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Think about it.”
Frank threw up his hands. “Why would he say it if he didn’t do it?”
“To drive your grandfather crazy. To make him nuts. To take credit for something he didn’t do, with false bravado.” Judy felt calmer. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. “There are a million explanations, Frank. Coluzzi was a sadist.”
“He did it!”
“He did it,” Pigeon Tony echoed, and Bennie shot him a dirty look.
Judy got fed up. “Look, Frank, I’m in the middle of a murder trial right now. So this isn’t about you or your parents, as sorry as I am for their deaths. Right now it’s about your grandfather, who is charged with murder, and it doesn’t look so good for the good guys. Or the bad guys. Whoever we are.” It was a little confusing.
Frank swallowed, visibly dry-mouthed, and Judy saw her opening and went for it, as much as it hurt her to shut him down.
“You want to know the truth, Frank? You can read it. I’ll give you the files tonight. My file, the police file, the whole thing. You want to, you can even talk to the expert. He’s completely impartial. He said the guardrail was too low to be safe and there was no foul play. But right now I have a client to defend and you are not helping him—or me—in the least.”
Frank’s features went stiff and he looked down at Pigeon Tony, whose tiny face sagged between his hands. Frank stood still for a minute, then his sigh was audible. “Fine. We’ll discuss it later.”
Judy figured it was the closest an Italian man could come to an apology. “And you won’t get crazy until we do.”
“I didn’t promise that.”
“It wasn’t a question,” Judy said, and let it drop. Frank wasn’t nuts enough to be thinking about murder, was he? And who would he kill? Angelo Coluzzi was already dead. “Now let’s get back to court, where all I have to fight with is the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania.” Judy glanced at Bennie. “You have anything to tell me before we go back in there?”