Heartstone

by Phillip Margolin

  Shaeffer rubbed his eyes and wished that he could take a short nap. The trial was exhausting him. He was working late and not sleeping well. He looked at Coolidge, who was seated next to him. He was off in space again and Mark leaned over and whispered to him for no other purpose than to make it appear that the defendant was taking some part in his own trial.

  Mark had emphasized the importance that a jury would attach to an attitude of indifference manifested by an accused, but Coolidge had gone through the first week of trial without showing any sign of involvement. At times his eyes appeared glassed over, as if, like a zombie, he was already dead and only his body was on trial. Mark had seriously considered calling a halt to the trial so that Coolidge could be examined by a psychiatrist for the purpose of determining whether or not he could aid and assist in his own defense, but he had concluded that Coolidge was not mentally incompetent, merely defeated.

  Yesterday, after court had recessed, Mark watched the guards lead Bobby away down the long corridor to the jail elevator and was suddenly overcome by a dizzying emotion similar to the unnerving disorientation that accompanies déjà vu. Perhaps it was the angle of the sun, but the sight of Coolidge in handcuffs, his head and shoulders bowed, his body diminishing in size as it floated down the corridor, a scene he had witnessed on numerous occasions, overwhelmed him. He saw with great clarity his responsibilities in this matter and only a great exercise of will kept him from giving up in despair.

  When Shaeffer turned to Coolidge, he caught sight of Sarah sitting in the back of the courtroom. The sight of her angered him. He had arranged for her to visit Bobby any time she chose, but she had refused to see him. Mark had been forced to lie to Bobby to explain why she would not see him.

  Sarah had avoided Mark since that day in her apartment and he had slowly come to realize that he had been used by her. He wanted to confront her, but his feelings of guilt over the desire he felt for her made him impotent. He wondered why she insisted on coming to the trial each day and concluded that she wanted to see her belief in Bobby’s guilt justified so she could rationalize her desertion of a man who loved her and her lies to him.

  “Mr. Hessey, the defendant was a member of a teenage gang called the Cobras, was he not?” Heider asked.

  “Yes,” Hessey answered.

  Judge Samuels looked up from some papers he had been reading and over toward Shaeffer to see what his reaction would be to Heider’s last question. Shaeffer seemed oblivious to the danger Judge Samuels saw so clearly on the horizon.

  Judge Samuels felt sorry for Shaeffer. He seemed like a nice boy, but he should never have accepted a case of this magnitude. Samuels had tried to give him subtle tips on how to conduct his defense when he realized the boy’s inexperience, but Shaeffer seemed distracted and nervous and he never caught on.

  “What was the purpose of this gang, Mr. Hessey?”

  “What, uh, did we do, do you mean?” Hessey replied uncertainly. He had been a nervous witness, looking at the judge or jury for approval whenever he gave an answer.

  “Exactly.”

  Hessey shifted in his seat and ran his hands along the arms of his chair.

  “Well, we got together, you know. Had parties…”

  His voice trailed off.

  “Weren’t members of the gang constantly involved in street fights and…?”

  “Mr. Shaeffer,” Judge Samuels’s voice boomed, “aren’t you going to object to that question?”

  Shaeffer’s eyes jerked up from his notes. He had been preoccupied with thoughts of Sarah and he had missed Heider’s last few questions. Shaeffer’s confusion was apparent to Samuels and the jurist reddened with anger when he realized that Mark did not know what he was talking about. Shaeffer’s lack of competence was forcing Samuels to take more of a role in the trial than was proper, yet his conscience and sense of professional ethics made it impossible for him to stand by day after day while Heider ran roughshod over his opponent.

  “I’m sorry, I…” Shaeffer stuttered. Samuels glared at him for a second, then turned his wrath on Heider.

  “It is becoming increasingly apparent to this Court that counsel for both sides have forgotten the rules of evidence concerning examination of witnesses. A person of your experience, Mr. Heider, should know that this entire line of questioning is not permissible.”

  Heider rose and accepted the judge’s challenge. He did not appear to take offense at the judge’s remarks and his manner was gracious.

  “Your Honor, if this line of questioning is improper, then I will not continue with it. As there was no objection from defense counsel, I assumed the questions were proper.”

  That little son of a bitch always has the right answers, Samuels thought. He would lose no points with the jury after that response and he had made Shaeffer look bad.

  Heider finished his examination of Hessey by leading him through the events at Alice Fay’s party. He quizzed him about the attitude of Bobby and Billy toward rich people. Shaeffer, as if to make up for his earlier inattention, made numerous objections, most of which were overruled as improper.

  “No further questions,” Heider said.

  “Your witness, Mr. Shaeffer.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  Mark checked through his notes one last time. He was excited by the prospect of cross-examining Hessey. For the first time in the trial Mark felt that he would be able to score points. The state was basing its case on the credibility of Esther Pegalosi. It had tied her to the murder scene through her glasses. Mark was now prepared to destroy that key link between the star witness and the scene of the crime.

  “Mr. Hessey, in 1960, you dated Esther Pegalosi on several occasions, did you not?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You and Mrs. Pegalosi had sexual relations, did you not?”

  Hessey hung his head and grinned sheepishly.

  “Me and most everyone else I knew.”

  Heider was on his feet objecting and the spectators were laughing.

  “Mr. Hessey, just answer the question,” Judge Samuels instructed.

  “Mr. Hessey, did Esther wear glasses?”

  “Not all the time. She used to wear them when she was in class and at a movie. Times like that. Sometimes she’d keep them on after.”

  “Is it fair to say that Lookout Park was used as a ‘make out’ spot in 1960 by large numbers of teenagers?”

  Hessey smiled.

  “Yes, sir,” he said a bit too enthusiastically and several of the spectators laughed.

  “Did you ever use Lookout Park to ‘make out’?”

  “Yes, sir,” Hessey answered with even more enthusiasm. Philip Heider and Judge Samuels joined in the laughter this time.

  “Did you use Lookout Park to ‘make out’ approximately one week before the murders of Richie Walters and Elaine Murray?”

  Heider’s face clouded over and the laughter in the courtroom died down.

  “What’s he getting at?” Heider whispered to Caproni. Caproni shook his head and concentrated on the questions.

  “Yes, sir. About one week before.”

  “How do you remember that?”

  “Well, I remember when they found Richie Walters up there joking about how it could have been me, because I had been right up by the hill just the week before.”

  “And you are sure of that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where had you been prior to making out in the park, one week before the murders?”

  “To the movies.”

  “With whom?”

  “With Esther.”

  “When you drove to Lookout Park was Esther wearing her glasses?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  Hessey looked suddenly serious and embarrassed.

  “Well, uh, I tried to take them off when we parked, but she wouldn’t let…she, uh, said ‘no dice.’”

  “To taking off the glasses?”

  “She, uh, didn’t, uh, want to make out.�
��

  “Why was that?”

  “Well, I was, uh, dating another girl I’d started seeing.” He shrugged. “I guess she was jealous.”

  “When she said that she wouldn’t make out, did you get angry?”

  Hessey hung his head.

  “I guess so.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, she started in on me about this girl. I can’t even remember her name now. And I yelled back and she ran out of the car.”

  “Did you chase her?”

  Hessey nodded.

  “You’ll have to speak up, Mr. Hessey.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where were you parked when she ran out of the car?”

  “The meadow.”

  “The meadow? Is that the same meadow where Richie Walters’s body was found?”

  “Yeah. All the kids used that meadow to make out. In the summer it was usually packed.”

  “What did you do when you caught Esther?”

  Hessey mumbled something.

  “You will have to speak up, Mr. Hessey. What did you do?”

  “I slapped her.”

  “And what happened to her glasses?”

  “They went flying off.”

  There was a gasp in the courtroom. Several of the jurors were writing furiously. Heider and Caproni were engaged in a rapid-fire consultation.

  “No further questions,” Shaeffer said. He could feel a pulse pounding in his ears and his hands were shaking.

  “Mr. Heider,” Judge Samuels said, secretly amused at Heider’s discomfort.

  “One moment, if you please, Your Honor.”

  Shaeffer turned to see how Bobby had reacted to his bombshell. For the first time in the trial, Coolidge was leaning forward, attentive. Mark turned toward Sarah, but she would not meet his eyes. Heider and Caproni ended their conversation.

  “Mr. Hessey, were you in the habit of slapping women in your younger days?”

  “Like I said, I did a lot of things then that I am not proud of now.”

  “Had you ever slapped Esther before?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ever knock her glasses off before?”

  Hessey paused.

  “Once I think.”

  “What did she do when you did that?”

  Hessey looked as if he wanted to crawl into a hole.

  “Cried, I guess.”

  “No, Mr. Hessey, I mean with the glasses. What did she do with the glasses?”

  Hessey paused.

  “Picked them up, I guess.”

  “And what did she do when you slapped off her glasses in Lookout Park?”

  Hessey stared at Heider open mouthed, then he shook his head from side to side.

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Did you drive her home from the park?”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty sure I did.”

  “Is it likely that she would have forgotten her glasses?”

  “No,” Hessey said thoughtfully.

  “Do you remember now whether she picked up her glasses?”

  “I don’t.”

  “But you will not swear that she did not?”

  “No. I’m not sure.”

  “Did she drop her purse when you slapped her, Mr. Hessey?”

  “No…No, I’m pretty sure she didn’t.”

  “Did she drop a cigarette lighter on the evening you slapped her?”

  “No, just the glasses.”

  “Or a blue rat-tail comb?”

  “No.”

  Heider smiled at the witness.

  “No further questions.”

  Judge Samuels looked at Mark to see if he wished to ask any further questions. Mark just shook his head.

  “I think that this would be a good time to adjourn,” Judge Samuels said. “We will reconvene at nine-thirty tomorrow morning.”

  “He killed us, didn’t he?” Bobby said bitterly as the jury filed out.

  “No, I think we scored some real points with Hessey,” Mark said, but he did not believe it. He was crestfallen. He knew that he was not doing a good job, but he had hoped to redeem himself with Hessey. Now he had nothing. Heider had completely neutralized the effect of Hessey’s testimony about the glasses. He had also established that Esther had been in possession of her glasses as late as one week before the murders.

  “See you tomorrow, counselor,” Bobby said sarcastically as the guard led him out. Mark watched Heider leave with a trace of bitterness. He began to gather up his papers.

  “Mark, I have to talk to you.”

  Mark looked up. Albert Caproni was standing behind him. He had spoken so softly that Shaeffer had barely heard him.

  “Can I meet you at your office, tonight?”

  “Sure,” Mark said. Caproni was looking around, as if he was afraid to be seen talking to Mark.

  “What’s the problem?” Mark asked, puzzled.

  “I can’t explain here. Promise me you won’t mention our meeting to anyone. Not even your wife.”

  Mark started to ask Caproni what was wrong, then changed his mind. Caproni was scared and Mark respected Caproni enough to accept his request.

  “I won’t say a word.”

  “Eight o’clock,” Caproni said and walked rapidly from the courtroom.

  Albert Caproni was waiting in the shadows of the lobby when Mark arrived at his office building. He refused to speak until they were safely locked in Mark’s office. Once the door was closed, he placed his attaché case on the desk in front of him.

  “There are some ground rules I want you to agree to before I tell you anything,” Caproni said. Mark noticed the edge in Caproni’s voice and the nervous way his fingers drummed on the desk. “First, you must swear to me that under no circumstances will you ever tell anyone about this meeting. If you did, it might cost me my job.”

  “Al, is this something to do with Bobby’s case? Because, if it is, I don’t know if I can ethically promise you anything.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to bend your ethics, because what I have to tell you might win this case for you, but I am not going to risk my career and I won’t tell you anything until I get your promise.”

  Mark hesitated, then agreed to Caproni’s demand.

  “Okay. Now, some of what I am going to tell you could provide grounds for dismissal of the case, but only if I were called as a witness. Do I have your promise that you will never attempt to call me as a witness, no matter what I tell you?”

  “You know something that could lead to a dismissal of the charges and you want me to promise you that I won’t call you?” Mark asked, aghast.

  “Yes. Other information I give you may clear your client, so what I know may not be necessary. But you will get nothing from me.”

  “What choice have I got?” Mark said. “You have my promise.”

  Caproni sighed and leaned back in his chair. For the next half hour he recounted the events surrounding Eddie Toller’s story and his subsequent disappearance and his meeting with Heartstone in the skid row hotel. He also told Shaeffer about the research that Dr. Rohmer had done for him.

  “The problem with all this is that nothing I’ve uncovered can be substantiated. Toller’s gone, so he can’t testify and Heartstone has split. There’s a good chance, given Toller’s background, that his story is a lie he invented to get a deal. And Heartstone might have run away for reasons unconnected with Elaine Murray’s murder.”

  “There must be something we can do,” Mark said.

  “I’ve been thinking and I have an idea. The real importance of Toller’s story is that it places Elaine Murray in that basement alive almost six weeks after the Coolidges are supposed to have killed her. Does your client have an alibi for the first few weeks in January?”

  Mark thought for a second, then his face brightened.

  “They were in the hospital. It was a car accident or something. Wait, I have it here in my notes.”

  He shuffled through some papers until he had the right one.

  �
��January 3, 1961 until early February.”

  “All right,” Caproni said. “If you can prove Elaine Murray was alive in January, you get an acquittal.”

  “But how do I do that?”

  “Have the body exhumed and reexamined.”

  “What?”

  “Make us dig up the body.”

  Mark looked at Caproni to see if he was serious. Caproni stared back. His face showed no trace of humor. Mark felt that events were getting out of hand. Caproni was asking too much of him.

  “How am I going to do that? You say you won’t get involved. I don’t see how I could get Judge Samuels to sign a court order.”

  Shaeffer’s negative attitude irritated Caproni. He expected Mark to be excited. Instead he seemed afraid of his new responsibilities.

  “I’ve thought of that. Line up several of the top gynecologists in Portsmouth and put them on at a hearing. They’ll testify that the acidity in the vagina would have destroyed any trace of sperm shortly after Murray died. Just show Samuels Dr. Beauchamp’s autopsy report and you have your grounds.”

  Mark made hasty notes while Caproni spoke. He wondered where he would get the money to hire the doctors. He could not take it from his remaining fee or he would end up trying the case for nothing.

  “I brought something else that might help,” Caproni said, laying a thick sheaf of papers on the desk. “This is a copy of a transcript of the hypnosis sessions with Esther Pegalosi. It might help you prepare your cross-examination.”

  Caproni stood up and closed his attaché case.

  “I…I’m really grateful for all this,” Mark said. “I know what a risk you’re taking and I…”

  Caproni was exhausted. All he wanted to do was get some sleep.

  “Don’t thank me, Mark. Just pray that I haven’t helped set a murderer free.”

  3

  “What do you think?” Mark asked.

  “I think that there is an excellent possibility that Esther did not see the Walters boy killed,” Dr. Nathan Paris replied.

  Mark breathed a deep sigh of relief. He felt well prepared for his cross-examination of Esther Pegalosi, but he needed a medical explanation of her testimony if he was going to convince the jury that she was not worthy of belief. Dr. Paris was a professor of psychiatry at the University Medical School, a Diplomate of the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology and a respected author and lecturer in the field of memory and hypnosis. In addition to his credentials, he had the boyish good looks and open, forthright manner that impressed a jury.