“Understood, Your Honor.” I looked at my uncle. “Do you need me to repeat the question, Mr. Wilkes?”
Colin flushed. “Of course not, Katherine. I may be old, but I still have my memory intact. The answer is yes. I defended Manuel Lopez when I was a public defender. Over thirty-five years ago, I might add.”
I smiled. “Your memory is indeed excellent. Is it not true Mr. Lopez was found guilty of murdering a Cuban grocery store owner?”
“To my regret, yes. He got a life sentence and died of a heart attack in prison.” Still a politician, Colin twisted toward the jury. “You never forget a case you lose.”
“Mr. Wilkes, the judge on that case was Kurt Winewski and the state prosecutor was Paul Schofield, correct?”
“That’s right.” Colin faced me again.
“After the trial, Mr. Lopez retained a new attorney, did he not?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it true this attorney made allegations that you were incompetent?”
“Yes. The accusation was ludicrous. He said I never interviewed witnesses who would’ve supported my client’s innocence.” Colin spread his hands. “The public defenders’ budget was so limited back then. No money for investigators.”
“His charges went beyond that, though, didn’t they? His motion stated that the trial was fixed.”
“Preposterous. There was no reason—”
“Wasn’t there, Mr. Wilkes? Didn’t Mr. Lopez tell you that he had been approached in jail by a representative of the Castillo family?”
Colin’s face paled. “No.”
“No? He never once told you that he had been offered money, big money, to plead guilty? Be careful, sir. Mrs. Lopez has given a sworn statement that she was with her husband when he told you about the bribe. She’s willing to testify to it in court.”
A bead of sweat formed on his brow. “He may have. It’s been years. I didn’t take much note of it if he did.”
“Really? Someone on behalf of a reputed crime family tries to bribe your client to take a fall for a murder and you ignored the information?”
“I thought Manuel was just desperate.”
“But the chief presiding judge at that time, Jonathan Rochelle, conducted an inquiry, did he not?”
“Yes.”
“And while he was investigating the case, he disappeared, didn’t he?”
“You know he did.”
Yes, how well I did. What no one else knew was that my grandparents’ bodies had been found. Lieutenant Sam Bowie had agreed to keep that quiet until tonight.
“Did you know Diego Castillo?”
“Only by reputation.”
“Really?” I walked to the clerk, who handed me the faded photograph I had previously marked for identification.
“I show you a photograph that has been marked as Defense Exhibit Twelve. Do you recognize the men?”
Colin studied the shot for a long moment and then looked at me with a bleak expression. “Yes. It’s a photo taken of Paul, Kurt and me at some bar function.” His lips twisted into a rueful smile. “I had forgotten this existed.”
“And the fourth man?”
“Is Diego Castillo. Yes, I knew him.”
“Turning your attention to the present, you knew the victim Grace Roberts was working on the collection of Judge Rochelle’s memorabilia.”
He returned the photo to me. “Apparently, she was more successful in her endeavors than I knew.”
“Did she try to blackmail you?”
“Over a picture of me with Diego? How preposterous. Of course not.”
“No, Mr. Wilkes. Over accepting a bribe for throwing the Lopez case.”
Colin half rose from his chair. “How dare you! I’ve never taken a bribe in my life!”
The judge intervened. “Mr. Wilkes, please sit down.”
Colin subsided. “I may have done a lot of things I regret, Counselor, but I’ve never stooped that low. Yes, Diego approached me during the trial, but I turned him down flat.”
“What about Paul Schofield?”
Colin’s smile was bitter. “You know Paul. No one presses his buttons, he pushes theirs.”
I paused in my questioning. My uncle had just handed me, on a silver platter, the reason for what happened all those years ago.
But I needed to push Colin a bit more.
“Did you suspect that Kurt Winewski had been paid off?”
Colin hesitated, and then nodded. “With his evidentiary rulings being so outrageous, I suspected something was wrong.”
“Those rulings included excluding any evidence that no money had been taken from the cash register, which was allegedly your client’s motive?”
“Yes.”
“Also excluding any reference that no blood was ever found on Mr. Lopez’s clothes?”
“Yes.” Colin shook his head. “Had Lopez not fired me, to this day, I truly believe I could’ve gotten his conviction overturned on appeal. As it was, any friendship I had with Kurt was over after the trial.”
He leaned forward. “But you’re wrong about Paul or me. We never would’ve taken money.”
“There is more than one way to bribe a person, Mr. Wilkes,” I said quietly. “The promise of power and position, for instance.”
Colin opened and closed his mouth.
“No further questions.”
Jared half rose. “No cross.”
“Call you next witness, Ms. Rochelle.”
“I call Hilary Wilkes to the stand.”
Hilary and Colin passed each other without even a look. My great-aunt was positively regal as she was sworn in. She looked the part of a queen, well dressed in a sky-blue designer knit suit and her stylist-coiffed hair.
Composed, she looked at me with a lifted brow, the glint of challenge in her eyes.
Game on.
Once more the battery of preliminary questions to establish who she was. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the reporter Jim Grabkowski in a seat of the front bench.
“Mrs. Wilkes. Jonathan Rochelle was your brother, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“Would it be fair to characterize that relationship as being strained?”
“As is the case always with family, we had our moments.”
“Did those moments include jealousy and resentment?”
“Perhaps. Since he’s been gone for over thirty-five years, I try to remember only the good times.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Manning said. “Relevance?”
“Ms. Rochelle?”
“Your Honor, I’ll make the connection shortly. I just need a bit of leeway.”
“Make it quickly or I’ll strike it from the record.”
“Thank you, Judge.” Turning back to Hilary, I continued my quest for the truth.
“You were aware Jonathan was investigating your husband for taking a bribe?”
“Yes, it was total nonsense.”
“Did you think it was true?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Paul Schofield was a friend of the family’s back then, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“A close friend?”
“Absolutely.” A smug look crossed her face. “That’s why Paul was named your godfather.”
“When you learned your brother was investigating Colin, did you go to Paul for help?”
She shrugged. “I may have consulted him.”
“Did Paul tell you that he thought Colin had been bribed?”
“No.”
“No? Didn’t Paul say Colin had been incompetent, so incompetent in his handling of the trial that the only possible explanation was he had been bribed by Diego Castillo? Didn’t Paul tell you that the Rochelle name was about to be ruined in scandal?”
“No!” A man shouted from behind me.
I turned to see Colin gripping the top of the seat before him. “Hilary, tell me that you didn’t believe Paul! I never took a bribe. I swear.”
“Order in the
court!” The judge banged his gavel. “Mr. Wilkes, any further outbursts like that and I’ll have you arrested and removed from these chambers.”
Colin sank down and covered his face.
When I turned back, I caught Hilary staring at me with a look of absolute hatred.
“You bitch!” Venom accentuated each word. “You are so like Jonathan. So full of self-righteousness.”
“I have to finish this.”
“Of course you do. I knew from the moment my husband’s love child was dumped on my doorstep this day would come.”
My whole world overturned on me. I gripped the podium as a lifeline from the deep void that had opened in me.
She tilted her head. “Oh yes. Your worthless tramp of a mother wasn’t content with seducing every man in the world. She had to also seduce my husband. I couldn’t have children but yet had to bear the contrition of raising you.”
“Punishment for murdering her parents.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the medallion. Glittering in the light was the figure of a swimmer.
“Do you recognize this?”
Hilary only gave a half glance at the award that had been given to her years ago for winning a prestigious event in California, the win that had placed her on the Olympic team.
“I wondered what had happened to it. Did Grace find it?”
“No, I did…when I found my grandparents’ bodies concealed in a utility closet in the old courthouse last night.”
Hilary’s shoulders sagged.
Pandemonium rang out as people began talking and cameras were clicking. Judge Rodriguez banged the gavel once more. “Order. Order this minute.”
When quiet fell again, I said, “Mr. Wilkes made a comment that no one pushed Paul Schofield’s buttons, he did the pushing. Thirty-five years ago, he pushed yours, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” In the span of a minute, Hilary had aged as if her vitality had collapsed, leaving an older woman’s shell. Only her pride continued to burn fiercely in her eyes. She would battle me to the bitter end.
“You went to the courthouse and confronted your brother.”
“Yes. I begged him not to ruin Colin. But he refused to discuss the matter with me. He said the truth would come out.”
“You brought a gun with you.”
“Yes. I actually planned to use it on myself, but when I pulled it out, Jonathan lunged for it. We fought. The gun went off. Jonathan was dead.”
“What happened to his wife, Marguerite?”
Hillary’s laugh was bitter, but she continued focusing on me as if we were the only ones present. “Like the good, devoted wife she was, she had stopped in to drop him off dinner. She walked in on me standing over his body. She screamed and ran. I tried to catch her, to explain it was an accident, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“What happened?”
“Construction was going on. The place was a mess. Marguerite tripped and fell down the stairs, breaking her neck.”
She looked down at her hands. “I was strong back then. I carried her up to Jonathan’s office and then called Paul. Diego Castillo himself showed up with a few of his henchmen. We put the bodies in the back closet as it had no vents, no outlets so that no one would smell anything. Then the men plastered over the door, nice and deep so that it became a tomb.
“Next Diego let it be known that there was a gas leak so the entire building was closed. When the courthouse reopened, the construction was finished.”
Hilary shrugged, her eyes once again defiant. “With money paid to the right people, the police never tore apart the courthouse. With time and the renovations, the closet became forgotten.”
“Then all these years later, with the courthouse restoration project, the past came back to haunt you.”
“Yes. First Diego’s son Marcos became worried about the bodies being discovered. He arranged for all the construction delays until he could get his own people in control of the site.”
“Juan Delgado’s company,” I prodded.
Hilary gave an aloof nod. “Your worthless ex-husband finally proved to be useful. But with all the preparations for the museum on the upper floors, he had trouble accessing the closet without being seen.”
Her mouth twisted. “Marcos and Juan, having not an ounce of imagination between them, planned to trot out the gas leak routine again.”
“But in the end you were the one to do the replay.”
“Grace Roberts, the opportunistic bitch—” Hilary’s eyes were slits of blue fire “—became curious about Jonathan’s disappearance. She found his docket sheet and put enough information together that she called the house, wanting to speak with Colin.”
“She thought Colin had been bribed.”
“Yes. Foolish girl. I took the call and made arrangements to meet with her that night.”
Hilary’s expression grew distant. “It was déjà vu. Like all those years had melted away. They hadn’t ever changed the lock on a side door. I got in the same way and made my way upstairs without the guard ever seeing me.”
Then the old Hilary with her shield of arrogance looked me directly in the eye. “You want to know the truth? Killing was easier this time, a lot easier.”
The judge leaned forward. “Bailiff, arrest this woman.” She pointed her gavel at the prosecutor. “Mr. Manning, do you have a motion for me?”
Jared rose. “Yes, Your Honor. The State dismisses the charges against Mr. Silber. We will be filing murder charges against Hilary Rochelle Wilkes, as well as looking into the roles of Paul Schofield and the Castillo family.”
Colin pushed his way through the crowd to reach Hilary’s side as she was being led away. There was a look of shock on her face—at what she’d said or because she’d been caught—but she never looked at either Colin or me. We watched her disappear.
“Uncle Colin—” I stopped short. He wasn’t my uncle. He was my father.
He lifted a hand toward me before dropping it. “Katherine. We’ll talk later. I need to get Hilary a good attorney.”
“Thank you for trying to help me. That was you on the phone that one night, warning me, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. After all, you’re my daughter. I’m so sorry. I’ve screwed up so much in my life.” He drew in a deep shuddering breath.
“I’d always been suspicious of what happened thirty-five years ago, but didn’t want to believe either my wife or friend was involved. Too caught up in the handling of the Lopez case. I started drinking. However, I couldn’t bear the same thing happening to you that happened to Jonathan.”
Slowly, Colin turned and walked down the aisle. Halfway to the door, he paused.
“I’m proud of you, Katherine. You’re the attorney I never was or could ever dream of being. I’m proud to call you my daughter at long last.” He walked outside.
Then reporters and others swept down upon me, and I was too busy answering questions to think. A teary-faced Lloyd and his wife thanked me and left. Soon the room emptied and I began to pack up my pads and folders.
I should have been feeling elation, but right now numbness absorbed me. At last I had found justice for my grandparents but at what personal cost? My great-aunt was a murderess and would be spending the rest of her life in prison.
My uncle was the biggest lie of all. My entire life I had looked up to him, even modeled my career decisions on him, and yet he had been my father. In seeking the truth, I had managed to disrupt the very foundation of my life. Where could I go? What was I to do?”
“Ms. Rochelle?”
I turned at the soft, hesitant voice. An overweight, middle-aged black woman stood behind me. She wore a simple blue dress and gripped the handle of a black purse. I didn’t recognize her.
“Mr. Chavez said you would listen to me.”
I looked past her shoulder and saw Gabe, dressed in a tan suit with a black open-neck shirt, leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed.
“Oh? What do you need?”
The woman twisted her hands on her purse.
“My name’s Mabel Smith. My daughter’s just been arrested for murder.”
I sighed. The last thing I needed was listening to another’s troubles. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith, but—”
“My baby’s killed her husband. He was a mean son of a bitch. He hurt her all the time. This afternoon he came home drunk, having been fired again. He took it out on her, beating her within an inch of her life. She grabbed a knife and stabbed him.”
Tears roll down the mother’s cheeks. “She killed him but it was self-defense. Now the police have her in lockup and she needs a doctor and a lawyer. I heard what the people said in the hallway about you. That you’re good. My baby needs the best.”
The girl was in lockup after being beaten? That wasn’t right. I could make a quick call to the judge on duty. Then we would need witnesses to the beatings. Maybe medical records.
I looked up and saw Gabe grinning at me. “What are you doing just hanging around, Chavez? We have a client to represent.”
I put my arm around the now-sobbing mother’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Smith. We’ll get your daughter to the doctor. And I would love to represent her.”
As we walked up the aisle to where Gabe waited, I realized the dark void inside me had dissipated. As long as our society lasted, there would always be justice to be pursued and served.
And I was that woman who could do it.
Spotting a trash receptacle, I pulled out my roll of antacid tablets and pitched it with a perfect arc into the can. Score another victory for me.
“Ready?” asked Gabe.
“I’m ready.” He swung open the door and on we went to our next case.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6207-6
COURTING DANGER
Copyright © 2005 by Carol Stephenson
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
Courting Danger Page 24
