“Technically,” David said, “but there’re ways to get around that. All she’ll do is tell the judge she just discovered some vital witness she didn’t know about. There’s no way she’s closing her case without showing that Tina knew about Max’s infidelities.”
Tina closed her eyes, but didn’t speak.
Neddy turned to her. “I know we’ve asked you this before, but is there anyone who can testify that you knew about your husband’s affairs?”
Tina looked off into the distance, as if she was mentally running through a list of friends and acquaintances. “I guess there could be somebody, but I can’t think of a single person who’d voluntarily come forward. Unless…” Tina’s voice trailed off and a look of dread covered her face.
“Unless what?” Neddy asked.
“Kinga,” she said slowly. “I’m sure Kinga must’ve overheard some of the arguments between Max and me.”
We all looked at each other. How had we forgotten about Kinga?
Neddy reached for a legal pad, and started jotting down some quick notes. “Did the police ever question her?”
“Yeah,” Tina said, still worried. “Right after Max died, and also on that day when they searched the house. But I don’t think they asked her all that much about my relationship with Max.”
“Yeah, but they took you away in handcuffs,” I reminded her. “They could’ve questioned her after you left.”
“Kinga would’ve told me. We have a really good relationship. She was as upset about Max’s death as I was.”
“Is Kinga at your place now?” Neddy asked.
“Probably. She lives in the back house.”
Neddy glanced at her watch and turned to me. “The judge is calling a recess around four. I need you get over to Tina’s place as soon as we break and find out if Kinga talked to the police or the prosecution. And if she did, find out everything she told them. We’ll be back at the office waiting for you.”
CHAPTER 48
It took me more than an hour to make it from downtown L.A. to Brentwood. I jogged up the walkway of Tina’s house and leaned on the doorbell for what seemed like an eternity. I was about to give up and check the back house when I heard the muffled sound of footsteps. Even after I announced my name, Kinga stared at me through the peephole for several seconds before opening the door.
“Mrs. Montgomery isn’t here,” she said, as politely as before, but with much less of an accent. All traces of her East Indian ancestry were camouflaged by a pair of jeans, tennis shoes, and a short-sleeved, V-neck top that exposed ample breasts for a woman her size. Her shiny, thick black hair was now curled about her face. She looked like a hip, attractive college student. Not somebody’s housekeeper.
“I’m here to talk to you,” I said. I boldly stepped inside the foyer since Kinga gave me no indication that she planned to invite me in. “Let’s have a seat in the living room.” This time, I led the way.
There was a look of uncertainty on Kinga’s face as she sat down across from me in the purple room. “I don’t think I should be talking to you without clearing it with Mrs. Montgomery first.”
This time, I heard absolutely no trace of an accent. What was that about?
“Don’t worry,” I said, “Tina knows I’m here. I need to ask you a few questions that could help us with her defense.”
I pulled a yellow legal pad from my bag and settled into the purple couch. Kinga took the chair where I usually sat. During my prior visits, Tina had always sat alone on the couch. Now I understood why. It had a cushy, luxurious feel to it. Like it was stuffed with down feathers.
I explained to Kinga that I needed to ask her some questions about the Montgomerys’ relationship that would be crucial to Tina’s defense. She confirmed that the police and someone from the prosecutor’s office had questioned her about the Montgomerys’ marriage right after Max’s death. Kinga said she told them both that she didn’t know much since she spent most of her time in the back house. The police talked to her again on the day they searched the house, and had asked where Tina kept her shoes and clothes. They also wanted to know the location of every trash can, both inside and outside the house.
Did you ever hear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery arguing?” I asked.
She seemed surprised at the question. “No, not that I can remember.”
When her eyes avoided mine I knew that she was lying. “Kinga, this is very important,” I said, my voice was stern but gentle. “If you were called to testify, could you swear to that on the Bible?”
She averted her eyes again and didn’t answer.
“It’s okay if you did. Tina was the one who told us you might’ve overheard their fights. Can you tell me what they argued about?”
She rearranged herself in the chair, curling her feet underneath her body. “Max had other women,” she said finally. Her statement sounded very casual, as if she personally accepted that as part of the male psyche. “But Mrs. Montgomery didn’t like it.”
“How often did you hear them arguing about that subject?”
She looked up at the ceiling as if she were counting the fights in her mind. “Many times.”
“Tell me about them. What did you hear?”
She looked away. “I can’t remember anything specific.”
“Just try,” I urged.
She inhaled, then complied. “It was always the same. Mrs. Montgomery yelled at him and accused him of seeing other women and he just told her she was paranoid.”
“So she was angry?”
Kinga nodded.
“How angry?”
“I don’t know,” she said tersely. “I don’t have an anger meter.”
Kinga’s attitude was beginning to bother me. I noticed that her eyes nervously moved to my legal pad whenever I began taking notes. I stopped writing and placed my pen on the coffee table, hoping she would open up to me. “Do you think Tina was angry enough to kill her husband?”
Her eyes widened and her brow furrowed. “How would I know that?” Her words were non-committal but her eyes said yes.
“When was the last time you heard then arguing?”
Kinga swallowed hard. “I heard Mrs. Montgomery on the phone screaming at Max, telling him she hated him. That he couldn’t treat her like some whore and that he would get what he deserved.”
Get what he deserved? I reached for my pen, then stopped. “When was that?” I asked.
“Early in the morning,” Kinga said, pausing, “the day before Max was murdered.”
This time I felt Kinga studying me, waiting for my reaction. My first thought was anger. This was something Tina should have told us. I couldn’t remember if we had specifically asked her the last time she argued with her husband, but even if we hadn’t, Tina should have volunteered that information. As I pondered this news and how this information might damage Tina’s defense if Kinga was ever called as a witness, tears started to roll down Kinga’s cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded.
Kinga had worked for the Montgomerys for five years. I hadn’t even stopped to realize how close she might have been to Mr. Montgomery. His death was obviously painful for her, too. “I only have a few more questions,” I said. “Is that okay? Maybe we should take a break?”
She limply waived her hand, instructing me to continue.
I pulled a tissue from my purse and handed it to her. She took it and dried her cheeks. She seemed embarrassed by her tears, but suddenly loosened up and began to share with me many intimate details of the Montgomerys’ marriage. Details Tina had neglected to disclose.
“When they had dinner parties, he brought women he was sleeping with here to the house,” she said, with astonishment in her voice. “Said they were business acquaintances, but they weren’t. And Mrs. Montgomery knew. She had to know. A woman knows when her man is screwing around. She may not have admitted it to herself or to anybody else, but she knew.”
I heard spite in Kinga’s voice. Spite aimed at Tina, not M
ax. I was too stunned to say anything, so I didn’t.
“Mrs. Montgomery spent all her time trying to be the perfect wife. But that wasn’t what Max wanted or needed.” It struck me as odd that she called Max by his first name, but not Tina. “She was plastic, phony,” she continued, disparaging Tina. “All she cared about were her fundraisers and her elegant little dinner parties. I did all of the work and she got all of the credit. He didn’t give a damn about that stuff, or her either.” She smiled in a wicked kind of way that unnerved me. “And no matter how hard she tried, there was nothing she could do to make Max give a damn.”
She curled up in an upright fetal position and hugged her knees to her chest. I waited for her to continue, but she began to cry. Just a whimper at first, then her sobs quickly intensified.
“Kinga, are you going to be okay?”
“She didn’t deserve him,” she bawled, pressing her face into her knees. She continued to speak, but her hiccup-filled sobs made it impossible for me to make out her words.
I pulled more tissues from my purse and handed them to her. “Maybe we should take a break,” I said.
She lifted her head weakly. “No. I don’t need a break. You asked me if she were angry enough to kill him? Yes. Yes, she was,” Kinga sniveled. “And she killed him. I know she did!”
“What? What are you saying? You think Tina killed Max?”
Her whole body nodded yes.
I didn’t know what to say. “Why? Why do you think that, Kinga?”
“Because she hated him,” Kinga continued to sob. “And she didn’t want any other woman to have him.”
She was so distraught now that I was praying she would retract her words once she calmed down.
“I loved that man so, so much,” she said. “And he loved me, too.”
I stared at her, the significance of what she was saying slowly registering. “Kinga, are you telling me you were seeing Max?”
“I wasn’t seeing him,” she said indignantly, as if that word cheap ended their relationship. “He was my lover. I loved him and he loved me. I was supposed to be with him that night,” she said, crying out again. “He was waiting for me in that hotel room.”
CHAPTER 49
By the time I walked out of Tina’s front door forty-five minutes later, my stomach was a ball of knots and I felt queasy. I started up my SUV and dialed Neddy on her cell phone.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“What do you mean ‘where am I’? We’re at the office, just where I’d said we’d be.” She sounded irritated and exhausted. “So what did you find out?”
“Are Tina and David in the room with you?” My heart was beating as fast as the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings.
“Yeah. Why don’t you call back on the office line and I can put you on the speaker—”
“No!” I shouted.
“Calm down,” Neddy said. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.” I was practically hyperventilating now. “What I want you to do right now is act like everything’s fine and walk out into the hallway and close the door behind you.”
“What?”
“Please, Neddy. Just trust me.”
She told David and Tina to excuse her for a second. Then I heard the sound of the door closing.
“You’re scaring me, girl,” Neddy whispered. “What happened? Is the news from Kinga that bad?”
“It depends on how you look at it. She definitely heard the Montgomerys going at it. Lots of times. But she lied to the police about it.”
“So what’s the problem?”
I was so wound up I didn’t know which news to deliver first. “Tina and Max had a pretty nasty argument over the telephone the day before he was killed. And Tina was apparently furious enough, not to mention loud enough, for Kinga to hear every prophetic word of it. At least Tina’s portion of the conversation. To hear Kinga tell it, Tina has quite a little temper.”
“I can’t believe Tina didn’t tell us about that fight.” I could hear the frustration in Neddy’s voice. “Wait a minute, but if Kinga never told anybody about it, then we don’t have anything to worry about, right?”
“Yeah. But wait until you hear this. Guess what little hot mama Max was waiting for in that hotel room the night he was killed?”
Neddy didn’t say anything for a second. Then reality registered. “Kinga? Oh shit!”
“See why I wanted your ass out of that conference room.”
“Max was screwing her, too! What a lowlife!”
“You’re telling me? Kinga had sent him an invitation, an anonymous one, inviting him to the hotel for an evening of—let’s just call it romance.”
“So Max showed up there not even knowing who he was going to meet?”
“You got it.”
Neddy actually whistled this time. “Damn, he was a ho!”
I breathlessly recounted everything Kinga had told me. She had been sleeping with Max for about six months. Mostly in hotel rooms, but on occasion, when Tina was out, they had made love in the back house where Kinga lived.
“And to hear Kinga tell it,” I said, “the man definitely had some stuff he needed to bottle up and put on the grocery store shelf. She got tired of waiting for him to set up their next little tryst. So she decided to surprise him.”
I could almost see the astonishment on Neddy’s face through the telephone. As I approached a yellow traffic light, I hit the gas and sped through the intersection. I reminded myself to concentrate on the road before I ended up in an accident.
“Kinga’s little anonymous invitation told Max what hotel to go to, what time to be there, everything,” I said. “Apparently, Max got off on stuff like that. Anyway, when she walked into his hotel suite all dolled up and ready to sex him up, she found his bloody body slumped in the tub. Instead of calling the police, which would’ve required her to explain what she was doing there, she hightailed it home and kept her mouth shut.”
“Wait a minute,” Neddy said, “didn’t Kinga know Tina was holding her fundraiser at the Ritz?”
“Apparently not. For some reason, Tina didn’t ask her to help out on this one. And by the way, Kinga definitely has no love lost for the boss lady. Actually, she despises the woman.”
Neddy whistled again. “This is by far the most bizarre case I’ve ever handled.”
I made what was definitely an unsafe lane change and hopped onto the 405 Freeway. I prayed that there were no police in the vicinity. “Ditto for me. So what’re we going to do with this information?”
“We’re not going to do a damn thing,” Neddy said.
“Are you serious?” I said. “The fact that Kinga was seeing Max makes her a possible suspect. What if she’s lying about finding him in that hotel room already dead? We don’t know that she didn’t kill him. She was deceitful enough to be screwing Tina’s husband right under her nose…maybe she killed him. The way she sat there wailing over him, she was definitely crazy in love with the man.”
“Then why would she kill him?” Neddy asked.
“Maybe she was pissed off about his other women or maybe he’d promised to leave Tina, then changed his mind. I don’t know. But pointing the finger at Kinga could mean an acquittal for Tina.”
I waited as Neddy pondered my theory. “You’re jumping the gun,” she said finally, but not convincingly. “We don’t have anything solid enough to conclude that Kinga killed the man.”
“Since when does it have to be solid?” I said. “And I disagree. How about the fact that she doesn’t have an alibi? She supposedly went back to the Montgomery mansion after fleeing the hotel. But she couldn’t give me the name of a single person who could verify that. And one more thing, guess what size shoe Kinga wears?”
“Don’t tell me.”
“Yep, a six.”
I allowed Neddy a few seconds of silence to mull over this information. “If we run to the police with this stuff, it could backfire,” she said. “Tina and Max had a terrible argument t
he day before his death and on top of that he was screwing the housekeeper. Those two pieces of evidence alone sound like additional nails in Tina’s coffin if you ask me. Kinga will point the finger at Tina and Tina will point it back at Kinga. And since Tina’s the one on trial right now, I’d say chances are, she’d lose the finger-pointing contest. So let’s just lock this info away and pray that it doesn’t come out at trial.”
The traffic on the freeway had slowed to a crawl and I was getting antsy. “I don’t know, Neddy. I think we need to think this through more carefully. You’ve been saying all along that you believe Tina’s innocent. Based on what I just told you, Kinga could be her scapegoat.”
“Sounds like now you’re the one who thinks she’s innocent,” Neddy said.
“I don’t know what to think,” I said, looking at the bumper-to-bumper traffic ahead and wondering whether I should take the streets. “I’m confused as hell.”
“This is too wild. Get back down here so we can talk. I need to hear the whole story one more time.”
“I’m on my way,” I said, “but you know how slow the 405 can be.”
“Well, I’ll be here no matter when you get here,” she said. “In the meantime, I’m giving Tina a piece of my mind for not telling us about that big shouting match she had with Max,” Neddy said. “Then I’m sending her home so we can talk.”
“What about David?” I asked.
“What about him? He is part of the defense team.”
“I know, but I really think we should keep this information between the two of us until we figure out what we’re going to do with it.”
Neddy gave my suggestion some thought. “Okay,” she said, exasperated. “I’ll send both of them home.”
CHAPTER 50
Neddy and I stayed at the office until one o’clock the next morning, wrestling with all the possible consequences of Kinga’s revelations. In the end, we agreed the information could do Tina more harm than good. If Kinga became a suspect, she would no doubt tell the police about Tina and Max’s last argument, giving Tina a clear motive for murder. The fact remained that Tina was the one allegedly seen outside Max’s hotel room with a knife in her hand, not Kinga.
Every Reasonable Doubt Page 24
