Corbin returned to Philadelphia the day before the hearing. It was 11:30 in the morning. Beckett was on the phone trying to track down witnesses. Ever since he bombed Corbin’s cross examination, Beaumont had started oozing helpfulness; witnesses were his latest offering. Corbin knew Beckett would be tied up for at least an hour. This presented him with the chance he had been waiting for to search Beckett’s hotel.
To make sure Beckett wouldn’t leave the office, Corbin asked Beckett to watch for a fax they were expecting from Judge Sutherlin’s clerk, regarding their first scheduled hearing. He told Beckett the fax would contain the hearing date and time and might need an immediate reply. In truth, the fax was already safely hidden in Corbin’s briefcase. Corbin then excused himself, ostensibly to get some lunch.
As he stepped into the Tribune Building elevator, Corbin double-checked his pocket to make sure he had the electronic keycard which would let him into Beckett’s hotel room. Corbin took the key earlier from Beckett’s desk when Beckett visited the restroom. The name and address of the hotel and Beckett’s room number were on the paper sleeve in which the card rested.
The hotel was six blocks away. Corbin jogged most of the way. As he entered the hotel, he walked right past the front desk without stopping. The clerk hardly noticed him. When he reached room 214, Corbin inserted the key. It clicked. Corbin entered the room. Beckett’s personal effects were spread everywhere. Corbin searched everything, even between the mattresses, but found no wallet and no stacks of cash. After replacing everything the way he found it, Corbin made his way to the parking garage. He knew Beckett’s car, as he’d been in it many times. He also knew the driver-side door lock was broken, so he didn’t need to smash a window. His search came up empty.
An annoyed Corbin returned to the office, where he found Beckett watching television in the conference room.
“Guess what?” Beckett pointed to the television.
Eddie Pierce, the District Attorney, was on television talking about Beaumont’s case. Behind him stood the grim Hillary Morales. “Yes, this is part of our zero-tolerance policy,” Pierce said. He had the manner of a circus ringmaster with the permanent smile of a car salesman. “I’m determined to get these criminals off our streets no matter what it takes. If that means taking them down for less serious crimes, that’s fine by me. Every day someone like Mr. Beaumont is off the streets, the safer our community will be. It worked with Al Capone, it will work here. Sometimes the tried and true methods are the best.”
“Could you give us some background on Beaumont,” asked one of the reporters.
“Certainly, Beaumont’s been implicated in a series of crimes in the past. He’s the sole suspect in a double homicide that occurred two years ago, though he could not be prosecuted when the witness against him turned up beaten to death in the river.”
“Do you have enough evidence to convict him on this new charge?” asked another reporter.
“That’s up to the jury. All I can say is I’m confident of our case.”
“How long would he serve?”
“If convicted of all charges, he could serve up to seventy-five years.”
“‘Seventy-five years!” Corbin exclaimed.
“Yeah, they added a bunch of charges,” Beckett said, pointing to a package which had been delivered by courier only a few minutes before. “See what you can come up with to dismiss some of these charges or suppress the evidence. I’ve got a couple ideas already.”
“I’ll add that to the list,” Corbin said bitterly.
Beckett turned off the television. “Let’s split up the videos. There’s a lot of footage there and we should check it all.” Beckett pointed at a box containing half a dozen bank surveillance video cassettes. These were delivered by the same courier. “Verify the notes they gave us about what’s supposed to be on the tapes and look for anything suspicious.”
Corbin took two of the tapes. “I hope these have a better plot than the first tape.”
“What’d they want?!” Sgt. Warner Russell demanded, accosting his former partner the moment Webb stepped into the police station.
“Who?” Webb asked, pushing past Russell.
“Beaumont’s attorney!” Russell grabbed Webb’s arm to stop him.
Webb shook Russell’s hand from his arm. “How would I know?”
“You met with ’em,” Russell said in a low, accusing voice.
“I haven’t met with anybody.”
“Don’t give me that shit! They wanted to meet with you, and now they ain’t asking to meet with you’se no more. That means you met with ’em.”
“No, it doesn’t, and no, I didn’t.”
“Don’t fuck with me, rookie,” Russell barked. “I got a right to know what they wanted.”
“You’ve got a ‘right’?”
“Yeah, I got a right ’cause my ass is in the sling on this one, and don’t you forget, your ass is first in line. You signed that report, so you better be straight with me if you want this thing to go away.”
“Why, Russ? Are you gonna turn me in?” he laughed.
Russell snapped his head around quickly to see who might be listening. “Keep your damn voice down. All I’m saying,” he was whispering now, “is your name is on that report. If you want to keep this from blowin’ up on you, we gotta stick together.”
“Uh huh, sure.” Webb ran his tongue over his lips. “I called Beaumont’s lawyer and told him I had nothing to say. What about you? What did you tell him?”
“They never asked to talk to me.”
Webb raised an eyebrow, but didn’t follow up. “All right, let me know if that changes,” he said and walked away.
Russell watched him leave. “Fucker,” he said under his breath.
Corbin pointed to the television screen. They were watching the surveillance video from First Regional. “Here it comes. There, see it. . the guy in the red shirt.”
“That’s not Beaumont,” Beckett agreed.
“No, not even close. But that’s who they’ve identified as Beaumont. The time code corresponds with the transaction Beaumont supposedly made, and I’ve looked at every frame of the video, frame by frame, for two hours in either direction. This is the only guy it could be. He’s even wearing the red shirt the teller mentions in her statement.” Corbin chose not to mention that Alvarez could be seen standing slightly behind the man in the red shirt in the video.
“You’re sure Beaumont isn’t anywhere else on the tape?”
“Absolutely. I’ve seen every frame of it. Same thing with the Penn Bancorp tape. I don’t see anything that looks like Beaumont.”
“Is this all they gave us? No other surveillance tapes? No ATM videos? There should be dozens of those.”
“These are the only tapes they’ve given us. My guess is they stopped asking for tapes when Beaumont didn’t show up on the tapes they had.” Corbin handed Beckett some papers. “I’ve got a request for the prosecutor to identify everywhere they looked for tapes. I’ve also started working on some motions. I’ve got a motion to suppress the manager’s testimony because she didn’t identify Beaumont until after they showed her a photo of Beaumont. That’s an illegal line up. I’ve got some motions about the tapes and one about the gun. I don’t know how you want to handle the teller, the one who identifies Beaumont as the guy in the red shirt? She’s clearly wrong about it being Beaumont, but that’s not a legal reason to keep her testimony out.”
“No, we’ll have to deal with that at trial,” Beckett agreed.
“We could still try, kind of a shot in the dark?”
“No, let’s not tip our hand. If we get to the point where the prosecution is thinking about dismissing the case, then it might be the shove we need. But anything short of that, we’re better off saving that surprise for trial.” Beckett scratched his chin. “On the Penn Bancorp video, if the judge refuses to exclude the manager’s testimony, then we need to show the whole tape to show he’s not there.”
“That’ll be fun,” Corbin said sarcastically. “We have eleven hours of tape from Penn Bancorp that day. I’ll write something up.”
“What else have you got?”
“I’ve got a motion to dismiss the gun charge for lack of evidence. I can’t see the judge granting that one, but it’s worth a shot to remind him they need to prove every part of the crime.” Corbin flipped through some of his notes. “I’ve got a motion to keep out any mention of prior crimes or suspicions of crimes. I’ve got a request for the complete file on Beaumont; we only have parts of it.”
“That’s not unusual. Prosecutors like to play games.”
“That’s all I have for now, but I’m still working.”
Judge Immanuel Sutherlin’s office was stiflingly hot. Two radiator heaters near the door to the hallway clanked and sizzled all day, causing the windows to steam up. The windows were tall, but not wide. Beneath the windows ran a knee-high, built-in shelf from one end of the twenty foot office to the other. A series of legal books sat on top of the shelf, as did three plants, one under each window. A large mahogany desk dominated the room, though it was buried under two dozen files. Photos and various certificates hung on the walls. On the other side of Sutherlin’s desk were two studded leather chairs with rounded wooden arms. They looked like something you might find in a museum to the 1930s. Another four identical chairs stood against the wall, opposite Sutherlin, by the radiators. A green and gold Persian rug covered the floor. It lay over the gray commercial carpet found throughout the rest of the building’s offices and in the courtrooms; the hallways were tile, which made them incredibly noisy as people’s footsteps echoed. To Sutherlin’s right was another door, which led to a smaller office where his clerk and his secretary worked.
Sutherlin was nothing like Judge D’Amato. He was a great deal older, quite a bit testier, and he didn’t talk with people so much as talk at them. Where she had an easy manner and presented an aura of practicality, Sutherlin’s manner was exceedingly formal and precise. As he read through Corbin and Beckett’s motions, he scratched notes in the margins. All eyes were on his thick, white, perfectly-coiffed hair and his starched white shirt. His robe hung from a hanger in the corner.
“Mr., ah, Beckett. I have reviewed your motions. Is there anything you wish to add that isn’t already covered in your memoranda?” Sutherlin asked in a deep, dominating voice which filled the room and demanded attention. He looked at Beckett over the top of his glasses. Beckett sat on the other side of Sutherlin’s desk, next to the dapper Eddie Pierce, the District Attorney. Corbin and Hillary Morales sat behind them, against the wall.
“Yes, Your Honor, thank you.” Beckett flipped a few pages in his notes. “We’ve looked at the prosecution’s filings and we simply can’t find any evidence linking Mr. Beaumont to most of the charges. There are no witnesses placing him in the banks and there’s no evidence linking him to the documents in question-”
“Your Honor, the police found the documents at his residence,” Pierce said, interrupting Beckett. Pierce wore a black checkered suit with a red handkerchief sticking out of the suit’s breast pocket. Platinum cufflinks became visible whenever he moved his arms, which he did whenever he spoke.
“There’s no evidence placing Beaumont in the banks or showing that he ever opened the accounts,” Beckett countered.
“Mr. Beckett, how do we know the defendant didn’t have an associate open the account for him?” Sutherlin asked. “You want the case dismissed because there is allegedly no evidence Mr. Beaumont entered these banks, but how do you know he didn’t have an associate?”
“The state hasn’t made that allegation, Your Honor,” Beckett responded. “Nor have they produced any witnesses to that effect.”
“The case is still young, Mr. Beckett. Your motion to dismiss is denied. Though I will consider the motion again should the state fail to demonstrate a connection between Mr. Beaumont and these documents at trial.” Sutherlin made some additional notes. “Let’s talk about this videotape. What is the problem with the videotape, Mr. Beckett?”
“With regard to the First Regional tape, we are moving to exclude the testimony of the teller and the videotape. First, the videotape has no date or time stamp. Thus we have no way to know when it was made.”
“I presume the teller can testify as to when it was made,” Sutherlin responded.
“We also challenge the testimony of the manager from Penn Bancorp, because she was shown a picture of Mr. Beaumont before she was asked to identify him.”
“And you think that tainted the identification?” Sutherlin asked.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Beckett responded.
“But she does identify him as the man with whom she dealt,” Pierce said.
“Motion denied.”
Beckett frowned, causing Sutherlin to smirk. “Don’t worry, Mr. Beckett. You’re an experienced trial attorney. I’m sure you can make your case effectively to the jury.”
“We’re also moving to dismiss the gun charge, again for lack of evidence.”
“Denied.”
Beckett stared at the Judge for a moment. Sutherlin stared back coldly.
“What about our motion to exclude any mention of prior crimes or suspicions of crimes?”
“I’m going to defer my ruling on that one, Mr. Beckett, until it becomes clear what the prosecution intends to do to prove their case. . but I will grant your request for the entire file.” Sutherlin looked at Eddie Pierce. “You are ordered to provide a complete copy of the file to Mr. Beckett within five days.”
“We can turn it over this afternoon,” Pierce responded.
“Is there anything else, Mr. Beckett?”
Beckett closed the file on his lap. “We’ve been trying to get videotape from the other banks where Mr. Beaumont is alleged to have opened accounts, but we haven’t had any success because they claim they didn’t keep it-”
“What do you want from me, Mr. Beckett?” Sutherlin asked dryly. “I can’t create videotape from whole cloth?”
“We understand the police looked at some of those videos, and we would like those produced.”
“Your Honor, we no longer have any such videos,” Pierce responded. “If we were unable to find Mr. Beaumont clearly, then we returned the tapes to the banks.”
“Where, presumably, they were destroyed. I see.” Sutherlin rubbed his chin. “Mr. Beckett, I cannot give you what does not exist.”
“But Your Honor, if the police had these videos, then they had an obligation to preserve the evidence.”
“I would agree with you, Mr. Beckett, except this is not evidence. Your client was not on the tapes.”
“That means my client wasn’t at those banks,” Beckett countered.
“No, Mr. Beckett, it only means he wasn’t on the tapes. Since I don’t see how these videos are relevant, I’m not going to grant any sort of remedy.”
“Your Honor-”
“Next motion, Mr. Beckett.”
“That’s it, Your Honor.”
“We have a motion, Your Honor. We haven’t prepared it yet, but Mr. Beckett’s comments raise an issue.” Pierce waited for Sutherlin to nod before continuing. “The defense apparently intends to show one or more of these tapes for the purpose of showing that Mr. Beaumont allegedly does not appear on the tape. We object to that in light of your ruling that his failure to appear on video is not relevant to this proceeding.”
“I don’t know which tapes Mr. Pierce is referencing, but I believe it is entirely relevant to show the videos that are in our possession, seeing as how the prosecution is relying on them as proof that Mr. Beaumont supposedly opened these bank accounts.”
The Judge scratched his sharp, clean-shaven chin again. “I’m going to defer a ruling on this until I can see the videotapes. File a pre-trial motion on this matter for all tapes you want excluded, and I’ll consider it.” The Judge rose, causing everyone else to rise as well. “If there’s nothing else, counselors?” Sutherlin dismissed them.
Corbin leaned against the window ledge in the restroom as Beckett ran cold water over his face. Like Sutherlin’s office, the restroom was steaming hot and humid. This restroom was located between the judge’s chamber and a conference room where they were allowed to meet privately with Beaumont when he was brought to the courthouse. The entire hallway was away from the public hallways, back behind the main courtroom. Normally, this restroom was reserved for the judge and the clerks only, but Judge Sutherlin gave Corbin and Beckett permission to use it so they could avoid the media, which began hounding anyone remotely connected to the case after Pierce’s television appearance.
“Man, it’s hot in here,” Corbin said, examining the ancient radiator in the corner, which burped, clanked and sizzled. It had no off switch, so Corbin tried opening the window. He yanked at it, but it didn’t budge. “What do we do now?” Corbin asked, turning his attention to Beaumont’s case.
“We prepare for a bigger case than we were expecting,” Beckett said. “This is disappointing.”
“How do we fight evidence the prosecution hasn’t even produced?”
“That’s the question. We might have a problem if Sutherlin lets in the prior crimes evidence.”
“Can he do that? That’s not admissible at trial, right?”
“Not generally, but you can use it for some purposes, like refuting direct statements made by witnesses, like ‘I’ve never owned a gun.’”
“I see,” Corbin said sourly. “Let’s get the hell out of here, before we melt.”
“Are you talking about the restroom or the city?” Beckett asked with a hint of accusation. He and Corbin were not getting along well, with Corbin repeatedly suggesting they leave Beaumont to his fate. Before Corbin could answer, however, Eddie Pierce entered the restroom.
“Tough luck,” Pierce said in his usual smarmy tone. “I’m sure you’ll do well though. I’ll have the file couriered over this afternoon.” He checked his short black hair in the mirror. “I’m glad I’m not defending your guy. . what a turd!”
“At least I’m defending the truth on this one,” Beckett replied.
This began a verbal exchange between Pierce and Beckett, with each trying to outdo the other. As they parried back and forth, Corbin looked out the window at the alley below. There was a dumpster about ten feet directly beneath the window. Wet gray snow was falling in the alley. It looked cold. This was turning into a miserable winter.
Hillary Morales studied Sgt. Russell’s crooked face. She didn’t like Russell, and this meeting wouldn’t improve her opinion. Russell asked to meet with her, but refused to say why over the phone. That could only mean he wasn’t bringing good news. Morales sat at her desk with her arms folded.
“What’s so important, Sergeant?” she asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
“I’m concerned about my partner-”
“Why?!” she snarled, cutting him off.
“He might go a little weak on this one,” Russell responded carefully.
“Is there some reason for him to ‘go weak’?”
“Let’s just say we might not a’ crossed all our ‘I’s and crossed all the ‘T’s.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Morales demanded. “Wait!” she barked, throwing her hand up to silence him. “I don’t want to know. I do not want to know what you two jokers did. This case is very important to the D.A. Do you understand me, Sergeant? Very important.”
Russell nodded his head.
“You,” Morales pointed at Russell, “are going to make sure your partner doesn’t blow this! Do you understand me?”
Russell nodded.
“Say it!”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“If you get the slightest hint something is wrong, then you take care of it.” Morales rose and walked toward her door. “I want updates, but officially I don’t want to know anything. Do you get me?”
“Yeah, and you don’t want to know what happened at the-”
“Listen to me,” she interrupted him. “I don’t care what you two idiots did. I just want this situation fixed. It would be very, very bad for you if I had to suddenly discover what really happened.” She opened the door. “Now get out,” she spat out.
Russell muttered a profanity under his breath as he left.
Alvarez sounded despondent. “The judge denied everything?”
“Yes,” Corbin confirmed.
“But I thought you had a really good case? I thought the law was on your side on all this stuff?”
“It is. . it’s complicated. Just because you’re right about the law doesn’t mean the judge needs to agree with you. He can make his decisions any way he wants. If we think he’s wrong, then we need to appeal to prove it.”
“Are you going to appeal?”
“We can’t appeal until after the trial. There are only a couple states where you can appeal during the trial and this isn’t one of them. And with Beckett threatening to turn himself in, appealing just isn’t an option. So we’re gonna play the hand we’ve been dealt.”
“Does that mean it’s hopeless?”
“No, not at all. We had a chance to toss out some of the charges and some of the evidence, but the judge didn’t buy it. That’s all. So we move on.”
“That’s ok, I guess,” Alvarez said, still trying to figure out how this changed their odds of success.
“But that’s not the real problem.” Corbin paused before deliver the bad news. “They’ve added more charges. Beaumont’s now facing seventy-five years.”
“What?! Seventy-five years?!” Alvarez exclaimed. “Holy shit! Seventy-five years?! What the fuck!”
“Calm down”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, this is a fucking disaster!” Alvarez yelled into the phone. “Two years, that wasn’t a big deal. I could see a guy like Beaumont taking a deal for two years and this whole thing coming to an end. But there’s no way anyone can reach a deal if they want seventy-five years! Shit! Our risk just shot through the roof! We can’t wait anymore for Beckett to make his move. He could really fuck us now!”
“Calm down,” Corbin repeated.
“You need to act now!” Alvarez continued in the same panicked tone. He either didn’t hear or chose to ignore Corbin’s attempts to calm him. “You need to do something!”
“We can’t take that chance yet.”
“Can’t take a chance?” Alvarez let out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t. . I don’t buy that. I’m sorry, but I don’t buy that. I’ve been thinking about this. I don’t see why it matters if he has the wallet. You’ve been investigating long enough that he could have gotten it from Beaumont for all anybody knows. There’s no way they could use the wallet to say we’re involved, no way!”
“Will you calm down! There’s no reason for us to take any chances yet.”
“There are seventy-five reasons-”
“Stop panicking! There’s no reason to take any chances yet,” Corbin repeated.
“Yes, there is,” Alvarez started again. “We need to act! You need to act!”
“Calm down,” Corbin growled.
“We need to act now-”
“Shut up!” Corbin finally ordered. Corbin’s words hit Alvarez like a slap across the face and he stopped talking. “I will take care of this one way or another. I’ll do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done, not before.”
Almost half a minute of silence passed before Alvarez spoke again. When he spoke, he spoke more calmly. “Can we even trust Beckett to wait until the trial is over?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who’s to say he waits until the jury gives their verdict before he does something? What if he stands up right after they say ‘guilty,’ and he says, ‘I want to confess’? What can you do about it then? Are you gonna shoot him in the courtroom? What if he stands up on day one of the trial and announces he did it? I say something needs to be done now because you can’t predict what this guy will do.”
Corbin took several deep breaths before responding. “I’m not convinced yet that he’ll turn himself in. We have time. We have time to see if there’s a settlement. We have time to see if the prosecution makes a mistake. We have time to see if Beckett changes his mind. We have time to see how everything plays out.” Corbin rubbed his temples. “There will come a point during the trial when it becomes clear the jury will convict Beaumont. If Beckett waits until that point to confess, then our problem solves itself. Anything he says after that will sound like the rantings of a depressed defense attorney who will say anything to save his client. Everyone’ll ask why he never came forward before things went wrong at trial, and they’ll discount any evidence he produces because they’ll assume he got it from Beaumont. I’ll back that up with stories of Beckett becoming despondent and ranting about doing whatever it takes to save Beaumont.”
“But what if the prosecution believes him?”
“They won’t. They want Beaumont, not Beckett. They’ve gone so far as to frame him to get him. They’re not going to ruin that by taking Beckett’s crazy bait.”
“But-”
Corbin cut him off. “BUT, let me assure you,” Corbin said in a tone so cold it made Alvarez shiver, “if things start to go wrong. . if it becomes apparent he’s going to turn himself in before that point, or if it becomes clear he’s got more evidence that we’re not aware of. . I’ll put an end to this.”
“Don’t wait too long.”