New Tricks - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,85

them nitpicks, because we have no other bullets in our gun.

Our case will open on the night of Walter Timmerman’s murder, and our plan tonight is to dissect it, moment by moment, and show holes in the prosecution’s case. We take out every document and piece of information that we have and spread it out on the dining room table, in case we need to refer to any of it.

“Okay, so let’s start at the beginning,” I say.

Kevin nods. “Good. Steven is at home in New York, and his father calls him and asks him to meet him in Paterson.”

Laurie, who has been reading the transcripts on a daily basis, nods and says, “And there’s testimony that he went through the toll-booth about half an hour later. He went to Mario’s, waiting to meet his father.”

“Wait a minute. Kevin, remember that note I passed you the other day? I asked how Walter got to the murder scene.”

Kevin nods. “And I told you the killer brought him there.”

“Then where did he meet the killer?”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Well, he didn’t drive to where the killer was; the documents show his car was in the garage when the house was destroyed. He sure as hell didn’t take a bus to downtown Paterson. So how did the killer get to him? When and where did they meet that night?”

“Maybe he took a cab.”

“Why would he?” Laurie says. “He had a car. And if a cab picked him up a couple of hours before he was murdered, it likely would have come out already. The media coverage the day after the murder was substantial, I assume?”

“Very substantial,” I say.

“I admit it’s an interesting question,” Kevin says. “But what does it ultimately mean? We know that Jimmy Childs killed him, so what’s the difference how he got to him?”

“Because maybe he had help,” I say. “Maybe it’s a way to get Robinson back into the case. Let’s get the security guard logs at the house gate from that night. Maybe Robinson came there at the time in question and drove off with him.”

“We should be so lucky,” Kevin says, but promises to subpoena the records first thing in the morning.

Unfortunately, the morning comes way too quickly. I was hoping we could skip it entirely, along with the next few months. But that’s not how it works out, and before I know it Hatchet is taking his seat on the bench.

I make the obligatory yet pathetic motion to dismiss, and Hatchet immediately denies it. He tells me to call our first witness, and I call Jessica Santorini, a bartender at Mario’s.

After establishing that she was at the restaurant that night, I ask her if she remembers seeing Steven there.

She nods. “I do. He was sitting at the bar.”

“About how long was he sitting there?”

“I’m not sure of the exact time, but it was quite awhile. I remember because all he had was one or maybe two drinks, and I kept asking him if he wanted something else. He said no, and I think he said he was waiting for somebody.”

“Did you talk about anything else?”

“I’m not sure; it was pretty busy that night.”

On cross-examination, Richard asks her, “Did the defendant pay by credit card or cash?”

“Gee, I wouldn’t know,” she says.

Richard introduces the restaurant’s record that night, which show no credit card payment by Steven. “If he didn’t pay by credit card, then it must have been cash, correct? There’s no other choice, is there?”

“No, that’s it.”

“So there’s no way to identify his check?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Not really.”

“And no way to know what time he left?”

“No.”

“Thank you.”

I bring in a waitress and a patron at the restaurant that night, both of whom basically say the same thing: They’re pretty sure they remember Steven, but they can’t say for sure when he left.

We’re not exactly generating headlines here.

At lunch, a court messenger brings Kevin an envelope, and he opens it and takes out some papers. “The security gate logs from that week,” he announces, as he tries to locate the night in question.

“Robinson? Tell me he was at the house that night,” I say, hoping it will show Robinson can be shown to have arrived at the house and left with Walter Timmerman.

“No,” Kevin says, looking up at me. “But Thomas Sykes was. He arrived at a quarter to seven.”

The name surprises me. “Could he have been shacking up with Diana at that house?”

“Either that or he came to see Walter,” he says.