Rosato And Associates: Accused Part 13

"Nah. My mom visits every Wednesday and prays with me. We're allowed four visits a month by the same person. She comes even though it's not easy to get here from the city. She helps me to accept my life's path."

Mary still didn't understand. "How can you accept it? If you're innocent and you didn't kill her, doesn't it drive you crazy that you're in here paying for a crime you didn't commit?"

Lonnie met her eye, then shook his head again. "No. No. I will not go there. I will not let myself go there."

Mary swallowed hard, taking another tack. "Did you know Allegra at all?"

"No."

"Did you ever speak to her at the parties?'

"No, not at all. She was a little kid. I couldn't even tell you what she looks like. Long hair, gla.s.ses, that's it."

Mary felt dumbfounded. "She thinks you were very nice and quiet."

"I am." Lonnie smiled slightly. "You can see that."

"Think you ever talked to her, like maybe just made an offhand comment at a party, and you don't remember it? You know, the kind of thing that might mean a lot to a little kid, but an adult just doesn't even remember?"

Lonnie shook his head. "No. I was the help at those parties. We were told not to talk to the guests or the clients. We were supposed to be as invisible as possible, not speak unless we were spoken to, and make sure the drinks and food kept coming."

Mary let it go for now. "Did you have a girlfriend at the time Fiona was murdered?"

"No, not really. I went out, but I mostly went to school and worked."

"When you went out, who did you go out with?"

Lonnie hesitated. "Why you want to know that?"

"Just curious."

"Girl named Linda Wall. She's married now."

"Who were your friends at school?"

"Didn't really have very many."

"Can you give me a name or two?" Mary paused, reading his eyes. "Again, I'm just curious. I'm trying to get as full a picture as I can of your life. Maybe I'll be able to figure out something, just the littlest thing, that can prove you weren't the one who committed the murder."

"Okay. My friends were Dave Jackson, DeQuan Merry, that's about it. They went to my church, we were in the choir."

"Are you religious?"

"I am." Lonnie's expression relaxed, and for a moment he looked like a much younger man. "I feel blessed to walk in G.o.d's light, and he guides me every step I take in here, every minute of every day."

Mary's ears p.r.i.c.ked up at a new strength in his voice. "Have you always been religious?"

"Yes. My mom was in the choir and she took me as soon as she could, yes she did. I accept the world the way it is, and I accept my role in the world. G.o.d has a plan for me, and I'm here to fulfill His plan."

Mary struggled to understand him. "What's His plan for you? What plan are you fulfilling by staying in prison for a crime you didn't commit?"

Lonnie hesitated. "I don't know G.o.d's plan, only G.o.d does. I work in the garment shop, so my clothes keep people warm. I help out in the library, and maybe something I tell somebody helps them. That is G.o.d, working through me. I don't know the reason yet."

"What about, 'G.o.d helps those who help themselves'? What about justice?"

"I am helping myself. I help myself to be a better person, every day."

Mary couldn't let it go. "Then help us to get you out of here. If you think of anything that we could use, let us know."

Lonnie blinked, and his eyes shone. "I don't want to hope."

Mary swallowed hard. She had never felt so confused about a case, or a client. "Still, we're going to try."

"I wish you luck, but you know what this says?" Lonnie pointed to the dark green script on his forearm. "It says, 'Only G.o.d can judge me. '"

Mary didn't remark on the irony, to a man behind bars.

Chapter Sixteen.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Mary asked Judy, as they walked through the prison parking lot to their car.

"What?" Judy looked over.

"Call me crazy, but I don't think he did it. I believe him."

Judy fell into step beside her, nodding. "I agree with you. I don't think he did it, either."

"It's ironic, right? There's a record full of evidence against him. Like you say, he didn't have a chance on appeal. Why do you think he's innocent?"

"Just by what he said, and the way he said it. He gave a completely plausible explanation for how Fiona could have been murdered. If he hadn't gotten so fl.u.s.tered on the stand and he had a better lawyer, he would've had an excellent chance of raising reasonable doubt."

"That's why I think it. He's either the best liar on earth or he's really telling the truth. Or we're projecting wildly and being insanely nave."

"There's also the facts of record, not just us being nave." Judy shook her head, musing as they walked in the same stride. "He didn't take the plea deal initially. That intrigues me. Also he has no criminal record, and lastly, he testified in his own defense. You can watch Law & Order and know that's suicide, especially if you're guilty."

"Good point," Mary said, as they reached the car and she chirped it unlocked.

"What a difference a day makes."

"What do you mean?"

"Yesterday, I believed in our client, but not Stall. Now I believe in Stall, but not our client."

"I still believe in both." Mary got into the car, so did Judy, and they closed the doors behind them. "Will you read me those letters he gave us while I drive?"

"If you promise not to drive off the road in despair."

"Go, girl." Mary started the engine, they both put on their shoulder harnesses, and Judy dug into the manila envelope, taking out the packet of letters and opening the second one.

"You want me to read to you? It's all on one line." Judy cleared her throat. "Dear Mr. Stall, I hope you are doing well. I know you are innocent and you will be free soon. Your friend, Allegra Gardner.'"

"Doesn't that sound like the first letter?" Mary steered out of the parking lot and down the long road to Route 29.

"Yes. Let me see the third one. Lonnie was nice enough to put them in chronological order." Judy put the second letter away and opened up the third one, while Mary looked over nervously, seeing that it was only one line.

"Please tell me it doesn't say the same exact thing."

"It says the exact same thing, which would be the obsessive part."

"Oh no." Mary bit her lip, hitting the gas in light traffic, on the two-lane road. "I can't wait to read the other ones, and try to understand what was going on with her. What's the next one say?"

"Let's see." Judy opened the fourth letter while Mary held her breath. "Mare. Remember in The s.h.i.+ning, when Jack Nicholson writes, 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull dull boy,' over and over and over again?"

"Yes," Mary answered, dismayed.

"Well, it's like that, only less entertaining."

Mary groaned, hitting the gas and heading for their next appointment.

An hour later, Mary and Judy were sitting across the neat desk of Bob Brandt, who turned out to be an up-and-coming sports agent and lawyer. He was African-American, six foot three and powerfully built, a former running back at Temple, whose broad shoulders strained against the seams of his tailored gray suit with a sharp tie of melon silk. His jovial air belied his size, and his brown eyes were deep-set, earnest, and even playful, under a prominent forehead. He wore his hair natural, cut medium-short, and he had a close-cropped beard. He must have recently turned thirty years old, because there was an array of birthday cards open on a cherrywood credenza, next to framed family photographs of a pretty wife and two adorable little boys.

Mary introduced herself and Judy, then got to the point. "We've just come from Graterford, where we met with Lonnie Stall. We know you represented him in the Fiona Gardner murder case about six years ago, and we need to just ask you a few questions."

"Go right ahead." Bob leaned forward on his desk, linking his immense hands together. His desk was neat, holding only a silvery MacPro laptop, a stack of neat papers, and a tiny Eagles football. Sports memorabilia shared shelf s.p.a.ce with law books behind him, and framed football and baseball jerseys lined the wall of his large, modern office, which occupied an entire floor of a building on Locust Street, one of the nicest streets in Center City. "As I said when you called, I will do anything I can to help Lonnie Stall, and if you are trying to find grounds for ineffective a.s.sistance, may G.o.d be with you. I was just out of law school when I took that case, but I did everything humanly possible for Lonnie and I believe any court in the land would agree with me. In fact, I wish it weren't so, because I know he is innocent of killing Fiona Gardner."

"How do you know that?"

"I know Lonnie, I watched him grow up, I know his mother. He's worked his b.u.t.t off, in school and at work, from day one, and he never got anywhere near trouble." Bob's eyes burned with conviction. "He was Honor Roll at University City High and Dean's List at Temple. It's impossible that he killed her, or anybody."

Mary brightened, feeling validated. "How did he come to hire you, if you didn't have much experience in murder cases?"

"As I say, we've known each other forever, and we go to the same church, United Bible. Lonnie and his mother thought they would get better representation with a private lawyer than they would with the public defender." Bob paused, pursing his lips. "Sadly, that's not always the case. The public defenders are more experienced and smarter than anybody gives them credit for. I tried to tell Lonnie and his mother that, but they really wanted to go with somebody they knew. That's why it kills me that I lost. They put their faith in me, and I didn't come through."

Mary felt terrible for him. "It wasn't an easy case to have for your first murder trial. There was a lot of evidence to deal with."

"Thanks. It was my first murder case, and my last. I still think about what I could've done differently, or better, but I also know I worked my b.u.t.t off, met with Lonnie more than anyone else would have, and gave him good, practical legal advice. I really wanted him to take the plea deal, and I was glad when he did. The jury would've convicted him for sure. He'd be there for life."

"Why do you think he didn't take the deal, at first?"

"I know why, and I don't think it's breaching any privilege to tell you. He was innocent and he wanted his day in court. He's that kind of kid." Bob looked like he was about to say something, then fell silent.

"What?"

"It brings me down." Bob paused, his dark gaze restlessly scanning his desk. "From the get-go, the cops had their man. From when he ran. Then her blood was on him, his blood was on her, and his saliva in her mouth. I begged Lonnie not to take the stand, but G.o.d bless him, he went up against Mel Bount, the District Attorney himself, one of the best pract.i.tioners of cross-examination anywhere. It kills me. I firmly believe that if Lonnie hadn't taken the stand, he'd be walking around today." Bob gestured to a row of colorful baseball caps on his bookshelf. "You see the kind of guy I am. I love to work for players and fight with management, but the only stakes I like are money. I don't practice criminal defense anymore, I'm not cut out for it. I can't move on to the next case, like those dudes." Bob frowned deeply, raking his hand through his hair. "Lonnie haunts me, and can you imagine what it's like to know he's doing hard time, then to see his mother every Sunday, praying for him? She sits where they used to sit together, with his cousins. He should be with her, with them."

Mary felt moved. "We've all lost cases that we wish we had won, but I feel for you, when an innocent man ends up in jail. That's what we're hoping to correct."

"Okay then, I'll stop. My wife says I love to talk about myself, and she might be right." Bob permitted himself a slight smile. "How can I help you?"

Mary knew this would be the difficult part, because she could see a major error that Bob had made, which no experienced criminal lawyer would have. She didn't know how to broach it tactfully, so she started slowly. "Well, we think the best way to go about it is to try to understand who else was on the suspect list. What other suspects were there, in your mind?"

"I didn't have any. I didn't think that was my job, that was the police's job, and they had their man. This was the highest-profile case you can imagine, and I had my hands full, just trying to deal with the evidence they had against Lonnie." Bob's tone turned defensive. "Also Lonnie answered a lot of questions when they picked him up, so I had to file a suppression motion, which I ended up losing anyway. They went by the book, they didn't play. They weren't about to make any mistakes with him, except the biggest one, they got the wrong guy."

Mary remembered reading the motions in the file. They were well-written, but they lost because Lonnie had been properly Mirandized and had nevertheless gone on to answer questions, the actions of someone who felt confident in his own innocence.

"I'm no detective, and I certainly wasn't then. I didn't know the victim, Fiona, and I had no information on who murdered her or why."

"Did you have a firm investigator?"

"You're kidding, right? I didn't even have a firm." Bob laughed, without mirth. "I had a desk in a room that I rented with three other frat brothers, and we pooled for a reception service."

"You've come far." Mary smiled.

"Thanks." Bob smiled back, but it faded quickly. "I handle myself better now and I'm tougher in negotiations, but then, I let myself get pushed around, and they threw everything they had at Lonnie. They rushed him to trial, they gave us no extensions, and it was a fast-track to h.e.l.l."

Mary could hear the anguish in his tone. He was blaming himself, over and over, like the boy version of herself.

"I'm not making excuses, believe me, but you have no idea of the kind of media attention and the sheer heat this case got." Bob hunched over the desk, eager to elaborate. "The Gardner family was as major a family as Philadelphia has, they still are, and when the D.A. himself tries the case, there's no way he's going to lose. They won't let him lose. Everybody falls in line, from law enforcement on down. It was David and Goliath, and Goliath is on deck to be the next governor. Governor Goliath!"

Mary could imagine the pressure. "Let's go back to this idea of a suspect list."

"Okay, but why?"

"You know, I've only worked on a few murder cases, but my partner, Bennie Rosato says-"

"Bennie Rosato is your partner?" Bob's eyebrows flew upward in surprise. "She spoke at our Young Lawyers luncheon last year and she was awesome. She's impressive."

"I know, I'm as impressed as you are." Mary smiled. "Anyway, she always says that, in murder cases, it helps raise reasonable doubt if you can point to another person who might have committed the murder. She doesn't think it's enough to just say anybody could've done it, but it really helps the jury visualize it if you give them a name. They find it easier to go your way."

"Oh, no." Bob grimaced, rubbing his face, then his beard, with strong hands. "I didn't do that, not at all. Like I say, I didn't have a chance. I was so over my head."

"The purpose of this isn't to make you feel worse." Mary felt like the guilt fairy, flitting from Lonnie Stall to Bob Brandt, raising false hopes and lowering self-esteem. "You couldn't be expected to know that, and I didn't know it myself until Bennie explained it to me. Some people think it's a lawyer's trick, and maybe it is with other lawyers, but in this case it can serve us well. We have the luxury of representing someone who is innocent."

Judy interjected, "Mare, we represent Allegra Gardner, not Lonnie Stall."

"Right, sorry." Mary faced Bob. "So back to the suspect list. The murder occurred at a party, and I'm a.s.suming that this was essentially a closed system."

"Sure." Bob leaned forward eagerly, putting his hands on the desk. "It's a huge system though, two hundred people. Caterers, two bands, a DJ, sound equipment dudes, and other equipment rental guys, like chairs or a dance floor, all at a party spread to show off the new offices."

Mary made notes. It was more than she had thought. "So let's reason together. It was a private party, of about two hundred guests, and G.o.d-knows-how-many service people. Any one of the guests or staff could be the killer, and I'm going to a.s.sume that one of them was, because I don't think a private party given to celebrate the Gardners' new offices would be easy to get into. They had to have some kind of guest list and security to check them in."

"I bet, and as I recall, the Gardner family companies owned the building, but they subcontracted the security to Brockmore, so the security must have been Brockmore people."