Bury the Lead - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,52

consciousness.”

Hobart goes on to testify how he entered the pavilion, saw Linda Padilla’s body, and immediately secured the scene. He questioned Daniel briefly, before the detectives arrived and took over.

Tucker turns the witness over to me. There’s not much for me to go after, but I want to at least make our presence felt to the jury.

“Officer Hobart, how did you come to be in the park that night?” I ask.

“The dispatcher sent me there. They received a 911 call.”

“Who made that call? If you know.”

“I don’t believe the caller gave his name.”

“Was the caller there when you arrived?” I ask.

“No.”

“But this anonymous caller was on the scene that night? And saw what happened?”

He shrugs. “I really don’t know what they saw, or if they even saw anything.”

I nod. “Right. Maybe they didn’t see anything. Maybe they called 911 to report that nothing was happening at the pavilion in the park at one o’clock in the morning. And maybe your dispatcher sent you out to confirm that nothing was happening. Is that how you figure it?”

Tucker objects that I’m being argumentative, and Calvin sustains. Hobart switches tactics and talks about the vagrants in the park and how they would not want to give their names, for fear of getting involved. I’ve made my point, that there was someone else on the scene, so I move on. I bring out the fact that Hobart saw the wound on Daniel’s head and that there was significant bleeding.

“What is your responsibility once the detectives arrive?” I ask.

“To make sure the area remains secure,” he says.

“Do you brief the detectives on what you’ve learned at the scene?”

He nods. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“And you offer your impressions as well? If you think they are significant?”

“Yes.”

“You’re trained in these types of things?”

“Well . . . sure.”

“And whatever you tell them, you later put in a report?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I get a copy from Kevin, then hand it to Hobart and get him to confirm that it is in fact the report he submitted. “Please show me where in the report you voiced suspicions about Mr. Cummings.”

“There’s nothing like that in there.”

“So everything seemed normal to you? You didn’t suspect Mr. Cummings hit himself in the head?” I ask.

“No . . . not really. But I had other things to pay attention to.”

“And you left Mr. Cummings alone while you looked around?” I ask, the clear implication being that if he suspected Daniel of anything, he wouldn’t have left him unguarded.

“Yes.”

“No further questions.” I haven’t done that much with Hobart, but that’s okay, since there was little damage to repair. That will come later, when Tucker trots out his big guns. We had better be ready.

I head back to the office after the court day ends. Our team meeting isn’t until six at my house, and I’ve agreed to meet with some of Daniel’s supporters from Cleveland. They asked for twenty minutes of my time, but I’m hoping to wrap it up in ten.

When I arrive at the office, three of the seven people in the courtroom today are already there waiting for me. Edna has one of them engaged in a conversation about investments and finance. She introduces him as Eliot Kendall, who I know from reputation is the son of Byron Kendall, founder and chairman of Kendall Industries, an enormous trucking company headquartered in Cleveland. As the president of the company and future heir, Eliot must be worth hundreds of millions of dollars, yet he patiently listens as Edna tries to get him to transfer his investments to her cousin Fred.

The other two visitors are Lenny Morris, a fellow reporter of Daniel’s at the Cleveland newspaper, and Janice Margolin, the director of a local Cleveland charity which Daniel actively supported.

Eliot Kendall is no more than thirty, and though Lenny and Janice are at least twenty-five years his senior, Eliot seems the natural spokesman for the trio. He explains that the others in court today had to go back to Cleveland, but that the three of them “are here for the duration.”

“So how can I help you?” I ask, trying to move this along.

Eliot smiles. “That’s what we’re here to ask you. We’re here to support Daniel, which means we will support you in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” I say. “But I think we’re covered.”

“I’m sure you are. But if at any point you need some extra pairs of hands, no job is too small.” The others nod enthusiastically in agreement. “And while I doubt money is an