I called Quentin Tazio from my cell phone on the drive home.
Quentin is a police resource, a tech consultant who has been described as a “brain in a bottle.” He lives in a dungeon of his own devising, a dark and drab two-floor flat tricked out with a million dollars in computer equipment.
It’s how he spent his inheritance from his father, and it had made Quentin absolutely the happiest man I knew.
I told QT, as he liked to be called, about the ad on Prattslist, the call to Jordan Ritter’s phone, and the two names, Sandy and Toni, which may have been real names, nicknames, or pseudonyms the women made up to use on Avis.
Maybe, for once, Avis had told us the truth to the extent that she knew it.
I cooked dinner for Joe and had a jumbo glass of merlot with my pasta. We went for a long walk with Martha and I told my husband the latest episode in the Avis Richardson story.
Joe said, “I have a hunch QT is going to find something for you, Linds.”
Joe has first-class, FBI-trained hunches.
I had a great night’s sleep wedged between Joe and Martha, and when I got to the Hall at 8:30 a.m., I discovered that QT had called.
I called him back, and while I waited for him to get my message and return my call, Brady asked me to come to his office and update him on Richardson. I gave him a detailed but concise report, and he asked good questions. I only wished I had something worthwhile to tell him.
“Get traction on this thing, or we’ll send it down the line to Crimes Against Persons and move on,” he said.
My phone was ringing when I got back to my desk. I was hoping it was QT, but I saw from my caller ID that it was Dean Hanover of the Brighton Academy.
“Boxer,” I said, picturing the man with the polka-dot bow tie in his buttoned-up office.
“Sergeant, I’m glad I reached you.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Avis Richardson is missing,” the dean told me. “She came back to school yesterday, but she wasn’t in her dorm room this morning. Now I just found out that one of our teachers is missing, too. Jordan Ritter didn’t show up to class this morning. That’s very unusual for him. Both of them are gone. No note, no nothing. They’re just gone.”
Chapter 63
LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR hours earlier, Phil Hoffman had been in his office, rehearsing his defense strategy, when a phone call from the SFPD radically upped his client’s chances for acquittal. It had sure felt to him like an act of God.
Now he stood behind the defense table in Judge LaVan’s courtroom and said, “The defense calls Bernard St. John.”
Bernard St. John entered the courtroom. He was wearing an expensive chalk-striped suit and a blue silk shirt. Not a spiked hair was out of place. After he had been sworn in and was seated, Hoffman approached the witness stand.
As expected, Yuki shot to her feet. “Your Honor,” she said, “we only learned about this witness last night and haven’t had a chance to do any investigation.”
Hoffman said to the judge, “I only became aware of this witness myself yesterday evening, and we sent an e-mail to Ms. Castellano immediately.”
LaVan peered through his glasses, looking down from the bench, and said, “Ms. Castellano, you’ll have your chance to question the witness. Mr. Hoffman, you may proceed.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. St. John, what kind of work do you do?”
“I play the piano for events, and I am also a piano teacher.”
“Are you currently employed as the Martin children’s piano teacher?”
“No. I was let go four months ago. The children were busy with a number of activities, and piano lessons were apparently not a priority.”
“What was your job with the Martins before you were let go?”
“I mostly taught Caitlin,” St. John said. “But Duncan was learning his scales and some beginners’ songs.”
“When did you first start working for the Martin family?”
“Two years ago last month.”
“And do you have a friendship with other people who worked for the Martins?” Hoffman asked.
“Yes, I do,” said St. John.
“Were you friends with Ellen Lafferty, the children’s nanny?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And did Ms. Lafferty confide in you about a connection she had with Mr. Martin?”
“Yes. A little over a year ago.”
“What did she tell you at that time?”
“She said that she’d been having an affair with Mr. Martin. It had begun when Dr. Martin had surgery for breast cancer and was undergoing chemotherapy. Ellen said that at first she was just sleeping with Mr. Martin because he seemed so sad.”
Hoffman waited out the titters that rippled across the gallery then asked his witness to continue.
St. John said, “By the time Ellen told me about the affair, she said she had fallen in love with Dennis and didn’t know what to do.”
“Hearsay, Your Honor,” Yuki said.
“I’m going to allow it, Ms. Castellano. Go ahead, Mr. Hoffman.”
“Did Ms. Lafferty ever mention this romantic relationship with Mr. Martin again?”
“Yes. She showed me gifts he gave her. And before he … died, Ellen told me again that she was painfully in love with him — her word — and in love with the children, too.”
“And why didn’t you come forward with this earlier, Mr. St. John?”
“The police only asked me if I had witnessed any hostility between Dr. Martin and her husband. I said that I’d overheard fights. And they wanted to know if I was in the house the night of the murder. I wasn’t. I hadn’t been there in days.”
“Did you tell the police that you thought Dr. Martin had killed her husband?”
St. John said, “No. I told them I didn’t think she had killed her husband. The Martins were both under pressure, but I knew Candace wouldn’t kill the children’s father, and that’s what I told the police.”
“Do you think Ms. Lafferty was angry about being the other woman?”
Yuki stood up. “Speculation, Your Honor. Speculation, leading the witness, as well as sneakiness and calculation.”
“The jury will disregard,” LaVan said. He pointed his gavel at Hoffman. “No more of that.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Hoffman dipped his head, hid a smile from the judge, and said, “I’m finished with this witness.”
Chapter 64
YUKI SCRIBBLED A NOTE to Nicky on her pad: “Do you know anything about this piano man?”
Gaines scribbled back, “Not one thing.”
Christ. St. John hadn’t supported the cops’ theory of the case, so he’d been ignored. Now she’d been blindsided. Clearly, Hoffman had been trying to tell her about Ellen’s affair with Dennis Martin when she’d blown him off.
Yuki fought the panic that was rising from her stomach and busied herself with her note cards as she thought through this surprise bombshell.
What St. John’s testimony meant was that Ellen Lafferty had motive. And since Dennis Martin had a gun — evidence that Yuki herself had introduced — it followed that Ellen could have found the gun. If so, Lafferty had had the means to shoot Dennis Martin. Motive? Maybe. Opportunity? Every single day.
Dammit.
First rule any litigator learned was you don’t ask questions if you don’t know the answers. She was flying absolutely blind.
Yuki got to her feet and said, “Good morning, Mr. St. John.”
“Good morning.”
Yuki rounded the prosecution table, talking as she walked toward the witness.
“All I want from you are facts,” Yuki said. “Not what someone told you. Not what you heard.”
“Ms. Castellano,” LaVan said wearily. “I’m wearing the robes, not you. I give the instructions, not you. If you have a question, I suggest you ask it.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Mr. St. John, please answer my questions with what you know firsthand.”
“Sure. Okay. I understand
that,” St. John said.
Yuki sent up a quick prayer to her dead mother, then said, “Mr. St. John, did you ever see Mr. Martin and Ms. Lafferty in what would be called a compromising position?”
“Having sex, you mean?”
“Yes. Or kissing. Overtly sexual behavior.”
“No. I only know what Ellen told me.”
“Thank you. That’s all I have for this witness, Your Honor.”
“You may stand down,” said the judge.
Chapter 65
PHIL HOFFMAN STOOD UP from his chair beside Candace Martin. “Your Honor, we call Ellen Lafferty to the stand.”
Ellen Lafferty entered the courtroom with her head up and confidently strode down the center aisle.
All eyes were on the pretty, young woman, impeccably and modestly dressed in a dark gray suit, a gold cross hanging at her throat. She looked to be just the kind of person you would entrust with your children.
Phil Hoffman did his best to hide his anticipation. Ellen Lafferty had been Yuki Castellano’s star witness against his client. With the information he now had, he was going to destroy Lafferty on the stand and turn her into a witness for the defense. But he had to do it in such a way that the jury didn’t see him as a monster.
After Lafferty had been sworn in and was seated, Phil approached the witness box. He greeted his new witness and then asked his first question.
“Ms. Lafferty, how would you describe your relationship with Dennis Martin?”
“In what regard, Mr. Hoffman?”
“I think that my question was pretty clear. Let me repeat it. What kind of relationship did you have with Dennis Martin?”
“He was the children’s father. And I took care of the children. That was all that mattered to me.”
“Your Honor, permission to treat the witness as hostile.”
LaVan swiveled his chair ninety degrees and said, “Ms. Lafferty, for you as well as for the members of the jury to know, a hostile witness is one for the opposing side — in this case, a witness for the prosecution — who when examined by the other side — in this case, the defense — might not be forthcoming.
“In designating you a hostile witness, Ms. Lafferty, I’m giving Mr. Hoffman permission to ask leading questions. You have sworn to tell the truth. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t, Your Honor.”
Hoffman fixed his eyes on Lafferty and said, “Were you having an affair with Mr. Martin?”
“Oh my God.”
“Yes or no? Were the two of you having an affair?”
“Yes.”
“Could you speak loudly enough for the jury to hear you?”
“Yes. I was. We were.”
“And when did this sexual relationship begin?”
Tears welled up in Ellen Lafferty’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Two years ago last April.”
“So, more than a year before Mr. Martin was shot?”
“Uh-huh. Yes.”
“And were you still seeing Mr. Martin at the time of his death?”
“Yes.”
“You admit you were having a sexual relationship with a married man in the home where he lived with his wife and children. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“And when Ms. Castellano had you on the stand, you didn’t think it was important to tell us about this affair?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And how did you feel about Dr. Candace Martin?”
“I think she’s cruel.”
“Were you jealous of Dr. Martin?”
There was a pause as Lafferty’s eyes went everywhere. To Yuki. To the jury. To Candace Martin.
“Answer the question, Ms. Lafferty,” Hoffman said. “Were you jealous of Dr. Martin’s marriage to your lover?”
“Your Honor, do I really have to answer that?”
“Yes, you certainly do, Ms. Lafferty.”
Lafferty sighed, clasped the cross at her neckline, and finally spoke, her words sounding loud in the hushed courtroom. “I wished that I had her life. But I would not have done anything to hurt her.”
“How about Mr. Martin? He wasn’t leaving his wife, was he? Would you have done something to hurt Mr. Martin?”
“No, no. Never. I loved him.”
“And how did Mr. Martin feel about you? Had he promised to divorce his wife and marry you?”
“Why are you doing this to me? You see what he’s trying to do, Judge?” Lafferty said. “He’s trying to make it look like I’m the murderer, when it’s her who did it.”
“Ms. Lafferty, please answer the question.”
Lafferty choked and began openly sobbing. It was as if she’d been saving up these tears for so long, the crack in the dam became a fissure and the lake just came barreling through.
Chapter 66
PHIL HOFFMAN jingled the keys and coins in his pants pockets. “Do you need a moment?” he asked Ellen Lafferty.
She nodded. Hoffman gave her a box of tissues and when his witness was more composed, he said, “Let me repeat my question. Did Mr. Martin tell you that he wanted to leave his wife and marry you?”
“Yes. He told me that a few times. Often, I would say.”
“Did he firm up those plans, Ms. Lafferty?”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“It’s pretty simple, really. Did Dennis Martin start a divorce action against his wife?”
“No.”
“Did he take you out with his friends?”
“No. I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Did you and he set a wedding date, for instance?”
“Dammit, no. He didn’t give me a time or a place. I was taking care of his children. I saw him every day. He told me that he loved me and that he despised her. I thought he was going to leave her because he said he would. And I believed that until the day he died.”
“Or — did he break off his relationship with you, Ms. Lafferty? Did he tell you to bug off? Did he treat you like just another one of his used-up girlfriends and tell you that he was staying with his wife? Is that why you were angry with him?”
“No. We were together and in love.”
“The bastard lied to you, didn’t he?”
“No.”
“Were you mad enough at him to shoot him, Ms. Lafferty? Was this a crime of passion?”
Yuki said, “Your Honor, counsel is badgering the witness to death.”
“Sustained. The jury will disregard the defense’s last run-on question. Mr. Hoffman, that’s twice. Do you have anything further for this witness? Or do you want to be sworn in so you can testify yourself?”
Ellen Lafferty gripped the edge of the witness box and said fervently, “I didn’t kill him, I didn’t. I am telling the truth. I would never have hurt Dennis. Never, never, never.”
“Just like you would never, never, never lie? Right, Ms. Lafferty?”
“That’s right. I would never lie.”
“Did Candace Martin have a gun in her hand when you left the house on the night of the murder?”
“I think so. I thought so. I don’t know anymore.”
“Right. But you would never, never, never lie. Thank you. I have no further questions.”
Chapter 67
A SHOCK OF ANGER blew all the dread and fear right out of Yuki. The defense had annihilated her damned witness, annihilated her and planted the seeds of reasonable doubt.
Yuki didn’t know if she could rehabilitate a would-be home wrecker and probable liar, but she knew that her entire case might depend on it.
Yuki barely saw Nicky’s note: “You go, girl.”
She got to her feet and walked to the witness box that wrapped around the witness. She put her hand on the arm of the box as if to communicate to Ellen that she was placing a comforting hand on her arm.
“Ms. Lafferty, did you kill Mr. Martin?”
“No. I did not.”
“Did the Martins fight?”
“All the time.”
“I thought so. It was so long ago. And it happened so fast. I don’t know for sure anymore.”
“Okay. Were you telling the truth to this jury when you said you thought Candace Martin shot and killed her husband?”
“Yes, that is God’s honest truth.”
“The prosecution has no more questions for Ms. Lafferty.”
Phil Hoffman watched the witness step down, wipe her eyes with a tissue, and head out to the rear of the courtroom. She was still crying as she went through the doors.
It was only eleven-fifteen.
Before the jury had a chance to even think of feeling sorry for Ellen Lafferty, Phil Hoffman would launch the next bomb.
Chapter 68
PHIL HOFFMAN SAID, “The defense calls Dr. Candace Martin.”
For a moment, Yuki thought she’d heard him wrong. But when Candace Martin edged out from behind the defense table, wearing her game face, a two-thousand-dollar Anne Klein suit, and eight-hundred-dollar Ferragamos, Yuki knew that Hoffman was running the table.
Candace wasn’t required to testify.
Judge LaVan had told the jury that the defendant was not obliged to take the stand and that the jury could not hold that against her.
So for Phil to call his client as a witness in her own defense was an act of either desperation or supreme confidence.
Hoffman didn’t seem desperate at all.
Candace Martin put her hand on the Bible, and when asked if she swore to tell the whole truth, she said, “I do.” Then she sat down in the chair facing the gallery and gave her attention to her attorney.
“Dr. Martin,” Hoffman said, “some of this has been established, but for the benefit of continuity, were you at home when your husband was killed?”
“Yes.”
“Where were Caitlin and Duncan?”
“They were each in their own rooms.”
“And so that the jury can place everyone in the house, where was Cyndi Parrish, your cook?”
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