“Kather ditched both computers in the river. We’re dredging for them. I don’t know if we’ll find them or what we can recover from the hard drives. The truth is, we don’t need them with a full confession.”
“Right,” Mary said, trying to take it all in. “But what about Edward?”
“Kather knew that Edward kept a house key under a stone. He knew about Edward’s diabetes. He’d had lunch with him and he’d seen Edward check his blood sugar and inject himself.”
“And that night?”
“Kather let himself in. Patrick was asleep when he went into the house and Kather injected Edward in his arm.”
“Why didn’t Edward wake up?”
“Ambien. Kather said Edward was out like a light. Kather knew about that too. He slipped out of the house before Patrick was awake.”
“So Patrick found him dead that morning. That’s so awful.” Mary’s heart broke for Patrick all over again. “But why did Kather kill Edward? And Geltz?”
“Kather had a Ponzi scheme going, and Geltz was in on it with him. You know what a Ponzi scheme is?”
“Like Madoff?” Mary asked, shocked.
“Yes, but smaller scale. People sent money to Kather to invest, but he didn’t. He collected their money and sent them fraudulent statements to make them believe he’s investing it, so they didn’t cash out. Geltz sent clients to Kather knowing it was a Ponzi scheme, and they shared the proceeds. They were bilking money from the Vietnam vets who were Geltz’s clients, like Edward. Kather and Geltz played it smart and kept it low-key. They didn’t live large. They put the money in offshore bank accounts and spent the money out of sight, in foreign property. They both have big places in the Caymans and apartments in Europe too.”
“That’s so evil!” Mary blurted out in disgust, then she realized the dire implications. “Edward had $225,000 at Cornerstone Financial, the bulk of Patrick’s inheritance. Only some of his savings were in the bank. So it’s all gone?”
“Unsure, as yet.” Detective Randolph frowned in sympathy. “The Feds will seize the assets, sell them, and create a fund, so maybe there’ll be restitution.”
“But any restitution will only be for pennies on the dollar, because the fund will have to be divided among all the Cornerstone investors. Do you know how many there were?”
“Kather’s saying about six hundred, and the Ponzi scheme wasn’t confined only to Geltz’s clients. Kather had investors all over the mid-Atlantic area, so they crossed state lines. The returns were decent enough that nobody asked for their money and got out of the fund, but not so good that they aroused suspicion. Kather kept recruiting new investors to the fund, keeping it replenished.” Detective Randolph gestured toward the door. “The Feds are here, DOJ, FBI, and the SEC. They’re starting investigations for securities fraud, mail fraud, false SEC filings, even international money laundering. They have to notify investors and sort out the financials. There are going to be a lot of people like you, who find out that their life savings were stolen. But our jurisdiction is primary, due to the attempt on your life and the two murders.”
Mary set the money worries aside, since Edward mattered more. “So why did Kather kill Edward?”
“Edward invested with Cornerstone about two years ago, and in time, he began seeing tiny red flags. He must have been a pretty good accountant. He started emailing and calling Kather, asking questions.”
Mary remembered Kather telling her on the phone, how much he liked having an educated client. She had even agreed with him, but he had been lying the whole time.
Detective Randolph continued, “Kather tried to make friends with Edward to deflect suspicion, but Edward didn’t fall for it. Kather and Geltz started to worry he’d find them out. When Edward called Geltz and asked if he knew a lawyer, they panicked.”
“Why would Edward call Geltz for a lawyer, if he suspected him of wrongdoing?” Mary realized the answer as soon as she’d asked. “Oh, Edward didn’t realize that Geltz was in on it, too. He suspected Kather of wrongdoing, not Geltz.”
“Correct. Geltz and Kather thought Edward wanted a lawyer to go to the feds about Cornerstone. They didn’t know anything about the Complaint in Common Pleas Court. Geltz got more and more panicky, so Kather killed him to silence him. Kather was going to kill you because you were getting too close to the truth. He was going to Tase you and strangle you, making it look like a botched car-jacking.”
Mary shuddered. “But how did he even know where I was? He came out of nowhere. Nobody knew I was at Geltz’s office.”
“Kather took Geltz’s second phone, a private one.”
“The Batphone.” Mary realized what must have happened. “Geltz’s secretary Patricia was calling him to try to find him.”
“Yes, and she kept saying where you were going. She told him that you were at her home, then you were going to the office.”
“You would think the phone would be password-protected.”
“It was, but Kather knew about the phone and forced Geltz to give him the password at gunpoint before he killed him. Kather used to call him on that phone and Kather wanted to dispose of it. He threw it in the river too.”
“Oh man, what an evil guy.” Mary felt suddenly so sad, at so much loss.
“I’m going to ask you not to talk to the media or leak any of this information. They’re beginning to gather outside, so steer clear on your way out. The Police Commissioner and the Feds are going to hold a big press conference at midmorning, when the plea deal is signed, sealed, and delivered.”
“Of course, I won’t talk to the press.”
“So now, it’s over. Kather’s going to jail for the rest of his life, without parole. The D.A. is fine with that, and so are we. The Feds will hopefully come up with some restitution for Patrick and the other investors.”
Mary thought it would feel like a victory, but it didn’t. It was tragic, all this needless death and destruction, over money. And Patrick had lost his beloved grandfather, derailing his entire life.
“So it’s over.” Detective Randolph half-smiled, in a final way.
“Not for Patrick.” Mary had been working on her next step for the last two hours. She’d emailed everyone she needed, so they’d read her email as soon as they woke up. “The fact that Patrick was suspected of murdering Edward was dispositive at the shelter care hearing. We were in deep trouble as soon as you testified.”
“I’m sorry.” Detective Randolph looked genuinely regretful, his lower lip puckering.
“I know, and it’s not your fault, but I can’t let it stand. I wanted justice for Edward, and I want it for Patrick, too.” Mary met his eye, unblinking. “Detective Randolph, will you help me?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
By eleven o’clock the next day, Mary had gone home, napped, showered, and changed, and was back in Family Court, riding up the escalator with John. She had told him, Bennie, Judy, and Anne the whole story at the office this morning, while she cut-and-pasted new papers to file with the court and called Judge Green’s chambers to get back before him on an emergency basis.
“Mary, you’re something else.” John chuckled as they ascended to the courtroom floor.
“Never a dull moment.” Mary smiled. Bright sun filled the airy space, and she couldn’t help but feel that it was a new day and a second chance.
“I never filed an emergency motion in Family Court two days in a row, much less one based on after-discovered evidence.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” Mary grinned. “Besides, there’s legal precedent for the rationale. ‘After-discovered evidence’ will get you a new trial in criminal law, so I don’t know why you can’t try it in family law.”
“Nor do I. That’s why I’m in.”
“Think of it like a legal Groundhog Day. We’re going to keep going back to court until we win.”
“I’m just glad Judge Green agreed to hear us.”
“I knew he would. He’s a good judge. He has to be favorably disposed
toward us, if not just plain curious. The headlines this morning were too good.” Mary had been all over the local news as a lawyer-heroine who almost got killed fighting for her client, a little boy wrongly suspected of his grandfather’s murder.
“True, it never hurts to have momentum in the media.”
“And I didn’t even have to leak it. Now, let’s do this.” Mary stepped off the escalator as it reached the top, and John followed her.
The courtroom floor was busy, with mothers, fathers, and kids sitting in the black chairs, milling around, or looking at smartphones. Well-dressed lawyers consulted with their clients, courthouse employees in polo shirts carried documents this way and that, and large-screen TVs above the courtroom doors played on mute, with closed captioning.
Mary glanced reflexively at the TV, then did a delighted double-take. The screen showed the Police Commissioner standing in front of a podium bearing the official symbol of the City of Philadelphia, and behind him was an array of men in ties, an American flag, and the cobalt-blue flag of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. The closed captioning read, NOW I’LL TURN THE PROGRAM OVER TO REPRESENTATIVES OF THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION AND THE SECURITIES EXCHANGE COMMISSION TO DISCUSS THE FINANCIAL IMPROPRIETIES AT CORNERSTONE…”
Mary walked up the center aisle, with a grin. “Let’s hope Judge Green has a TV in chambers.”
John laughed. “The way your luck is going, I think he just might.”
Mary felt a surge of goodwill when she spotted their witnesses, waiting for them in front of the courtroom doors. Abby Ortega grinned at her, flagging her down, and Dr. Susan Bernardi smiled, too, since she had decided to testify for Patrick given the latest news. But best of all, with them stood Mary’s star witness, Detective Joseph Randolph.
With a team like that, she knew they would win.
And in the end, they did.
For Patrick.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Everybody piled into Mary’s kitchen and she and her mother got dinner ready, reheating the gravy, boiling the water for the gnocchi, and washing romaine for the salad. Her father and The Tonys sat around the kitchen island with bottles of Rolling Rock, watching the Sixers game on TV, which was your basic old-school division of labor.
Mary let it go, too happy to make a stink. Her parents had been horrified by what had happened with Kather, but that bad news had been outweighed by the good, which was that they were getting a foster grandson. Mary had insisted they have Patrick’s first dinner at her house, rather than her parents’, which represented a maternal changing of the guard.
Mary kept glancing at her watch, her anticipation growing, and at about ten minutes of seven, she lowered the TV and stepped in front of the screen to get their attention. “Pop and The Tonys, excuse me but I want to speak to you before Patrick gets here.”
“IT’S OKAY, MARE. THEY WERE LOSIN’ ANYWAY.”
Feet nodded, his Mr. Potatohead glasses slightly askew. “Every season we say it’s going to be different, but it never is.”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block wrapped his gnarled hand around his beer bottle. “Still, you gotta believe.”
“Che, Maria?” Her mother turned from the stove, where a pot of bubbling gravy scented the air with tomato, basil, and garlic.
“Listen everybody, I know you’re all excited, but we have to remember that Patrick doesn’t know you. He’s meeting a lot of new people tonight, in a totally new house, and we have to be careful not to overwhelm him. Do you understand?” Mary didn’t want to hurt their feelings, squelch their enthusiasm, or destroy their cultural heritage.
Feet nodded. “You want us to shut up.”
Her father shrugged. “I CAN SHUT UP, MARE. I’LL ACT LIKE I’M IN CHURCH.”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block looked over slyly. “Matty, you don’t shut up in church. You don’t shut up nowhere.”
Her mother smiled, nodding, and Mary knew she understood, so she returned her attention to her father and The Tonys. “It’s not that you have to shut up, but just don’t go crazy when he comes in. Don’t rush and hug him. Hang back. Let him come to you. He’s a shy kid.” Mary felt a twinge. “And you have to remember, his grandfather just died. You guys might remind him of his grandfather, so be prepared for that.”
“THAT’S A CRYIN’ SHAME.” Her father’s eyes glistened.
“The poor kid.” Feet hung his head.
“Is it okay we’re drinkin’?” Tony-From-Down-The-Block asked, newly worried. “We’re just havin’ the one, on account of our medication. The kid’s Irish anyway, right?”
Mary cringed. “Don’t say that, Tony. Don’t say anything about his being Irish.”
Tony-From-Down-The-Block frowned. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Mare. My first wife was Irish, remember?”
“I know, I know.” Mary checked the clock. It was almost seven. Suddenly the doorbell rang, and she faced her father and The Tonys one last time. “Okay, everybody stay here. I’m going to answer the door and then I’m going to bring him in here, okay?”
“GOTCHA, MARE!” Her father answered for everybody, smoothing down his T-shirt.
Mary hurried from the kitchen, rushed to the entrance hall, and opened the door to find Olivia Solo on the front step, holding his packed suitcase, and Patrick beside her. His typical alertness had returned to his eyes, so Mary assumed his medication had been adjusted, and he looked completely adorable in fresh clothes, a red Phillies T-shirt and gray sweat shorts, with his regular Converse sneakers. He held Edward’s wallet and watch in his hand.
“Patrick!” Mary cried out, happy to see him.
“Mary!” Patrick smiled at her, raising his arms.
“Aw, welcome home, honey.” Mary picked him up and gave him a big hug, feeling him cling to her like a little monkey.
Olivia remained stony-faced as she handed over the suitcase. “Mary, here we go. Call me if you have questions. DHS will be in touch about the training seminars. Don’t forget you have to take them.”
“I remember.” Mary set Patrick down, took the suitcase, and stowed it inside the entrance hall. “Olivia, thank you for your help. I do appreciate—”
“You’re welcome.” Olivia stepped down the front step and waved good-bye. “Bye, Patrick.”
Patrick didn’t respond.
Mary hugged him to her side. “Patrick, say good-bye and thank you to Olivia.”
“Good-bye and thank you,” Patrick said obediently, and Mary felt as if she had committed her first act of motherhood, prompting a child to say thank you when he didn’t really mean it.
“Patrick, che carina, how cute!” her mother cooed, rushing up from behind, despite Mary’s lectures.
“HIYA PATRICK, I’M MARY’S FATHER, WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!” her father shouted, then Feet, Tony-From-Down-The-Block, and Pigeon Tony joined in with Italian chatter, happy noises, and hurried introductions. Patrick didn’t seem to mind, dazed at the crazy people.
Mary closed the door, and Patrick was swept into the kitchen on a wave of senior citizens, and only a moment later, he was being hoisted up by Mary’s father to look into the pot of gravy, a DiNunzio tradition. Her father carted Patrick around as if the boy couldn’t walk, letting him watch her mother slide the gnocchi, hissing, into the pot of water. The TV stayed on in the background, and Feet pointed out certain players in the Sixers game to Patrick, then Tony-From-Down-The-Block asked him if he liked “those Irish potato candies with the cinnamon on the outside,” eliciting an excited yes.
When the gnocchi were al dente, Mary’s mother showed Patrick how she ladled hot gravy on the bottom of the serving bowl, which was one of her trade secrets, and in time Patrick placed his wallet and watch beside his plate, dinner was served, and everybody ate hungrily and happily, her family talking with their mouths full despite Mary’s disapproving glances, since she was trying to raise the child with some manners.
Patrick was remarkably at ease with her family, answering questions when they were asked of him or chewing away qui
etly. Mary realized that he was comfortable with older adults because he was used to being around Edward, and the only word to describe the evening was happy—until she heard the front door open, and she realized that Anthony was home.
Mary rose quickly. Since they hadn’t spoken, Anthony would be shocked to find Patrick here, and for her part, she had no idea what had happened at his UCLA interview or how he even felt about her or their upcoming wedding.
“Excuse me, everyone.” Mary rushed out to meet him, holding her breath.
CHAPTER SIXTY
“Hey honey.” Mary met him in the dining room, and Anthony looked travel-weary in a rumpled oxford shirt, sports jacket, and jeans. He peered confused at the noise coming from the kitchen, and the waning light from the kitchen windows fell on his face, bringing out the brown warmth of his eyes.
“Hey, hi.” Anthony stopped in the dining room, but he didn’t hug her. “Your family’s here?”
“Yes. I went to court today and won. Patrick is in there, with my family.” Mary hated to talk to him with everyone in earshot, then remembered that they were all hard of hearing except for Patrick.
“Wow, okay.” Anthony blinked.
“I had to, honey, and I hope you understand. We can talk about it later.”
“Sure, right.” Anthony looked down at her, meeting her eye for the first time. “Listen, more importantly, I read that you were attacked, almost murdered? Is that true?”
“Kind of, but I’m fine.”
“Kind of?” Anthony asked, in disbelief. “I didn’t see it online until I landed. I called and texted but you didn’t answer.”
“Oh, sorry, I’ve been crazy busy and I didn’t have my phone for a while.” Mary had asked Marshall to get her a new phone while she was at court.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Anthony frowned at her with concern, so Mary assumed he still wanted to marry her, but this wasn’t the time or the place to have that discussion.
“I’m fine, really. I can fill you in later.”
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