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“Fair enough,” Judy said, unwrapping her sandwich. A roast beef special, with extra Russian spilling out the sides. “Got it. Kill the body, the head will die.”
“What?” Be
“It’s a boxing expression. Mr. Gaines, my coach, taught it to me. It means, you don’t have to go for the head, for the knockout. If you keep whaling away at the body, you’ll win the fight. Same thing here. If we keep pounding on the bottom of this conspiracy, the top will come tumbling down.”
“You’re taking boxing lessons?”
“For the case.”
Be
“Hilliard?” Judy asked, but Mary knew who she meant.
Be
“I have one question for you,” Be
“I don’t give a shit about your question. I’ve been trying to meet with you all lunch,” she spat out. “Didn’t you get my note? I gave it to the fucking deputy.”
“I got your note.” Be
“No. I wanted to talk to you about-”
“Lenihan wasn’t in your drug business?”
“If he was, I don’t know it, but-”
“You have no idea what cops were in on the drug business?”
“I told you already, no.”
“Bullshit.”
“The cops took care of the supply, with Anthony. He didn’t tell me, I didn’t want to know.”
“Bullshit.”
“I never heard of Lenihan. I sold the shit, I didn’t care where it came from. There was no reason for me to know, so I didn’t want to know.” Co
“Saving your worthless life,” Be
61
On the witness stand, Officer Arthur Reston made a more conservative picture than his partner had. He was trim through the waist and collected in his pressed uniform. His neat, dark mustache had been newly trimmed under a straight nose, and his brown eyes were slightly lifeless, which telegraphed as professional from the stand. “No, I did not hear the testimony given by my partner, Sean McShea,” Reston answered.
Hilliard nodded. “And that was because you were sequestered, is that correct, Officer Reston?”
“Yes, sir.” The witness sat tall in front of the microphone and held his prominent chin high, as if the collar of his uniform were a bit too tight. “I waited outside in the hall until I was called to testify.”
“Would you consider yourself a diligent patrol officer, Officer Reston?” Hilliard asked.
Be
“I take my job very seriously, if that’s what you mean,” Reston said.
“You have served for how many years?”
“Fifteen.”
“Have you received any decorations because of your performance as a police officer?”
“Yes. I’ve received several commendations for certain arrests and for bravery. I was Police Officer of the Year last year. I’ve been lucky.”
“Permit me to take you back, if I may, deeper into your career history.”
Be
Judge Guthrie nodded. “I’ll overrule it for now, but let’s not travel too far afield, Mr. Hilliard.”
“Certainly, Your Honor.” Hilliard squared his shoulders. He seemed energized since lunchtime, not from food, but adrenaline. Be
“Officer Reston,” Hilliard said, “isn’t it true that your former partner was killed in a shoot-out in the line of duty, in which you were also grievously injured?”
“Yes, sir.”
One of the jurors coughed, several looked moved, and even Be
Hilliard continued, “You were shot in the cheek and spent four months in the hospital and another five in rehabilitation?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Officer Reston, you have been partners with Officer McShea for seven of your fifteen years on the force, have you not?”
“I have.”
“And you were on duty with him on the evening in question, May nineteenth, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
Hilliard checked his notes at the podium. “Please tell the jury why you were in the vicinity of Anthony Della Porta’s apartment, at Tenth and Trose Street.”
“We stopped down there for di
“You left your district to do this, is that correct?”
“Only this one time, and because we could get cover.”
“So the district is never left unprotected, isn’t that correct?”
Be
“Overruled, Ms. Rosato.” Judge Guthrie nodded in the direction of the jurors. “The jury can hear for itself.”
“It’s a minor point, Your Honor, and I’ll move on,” Hilliard said, waving in an offhand ma
“Yes.”
“Were you friends?”
“Yes. We both like boxing. Liked. Went to the Blue together, once.”
“What is the Blue, Officer Reston?”
“The Blue Horizon, up Broad Street. Anthony, Detective Della Porta, used to get me tickets, ringside.”
“Officer Reston, what kind of man was Detective Della Porta?”
Be
“I beg to differ,” Hilliard said, stepping toward the dais. “Ms. Rosato has maligned Detective Della Porta’s character and reputation. I think the jury has a right to know what kind of a man Anthony Della Porta was.”
Judge Guthrie leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers the same way he had in chambers. Be
Be
“You were going to tell us something about Detective Della Porta, Officer Reston.”
The cop nodded. “Detective Della Porta was a good man and a fine police officer. He worked his way up to Detective. He got one of the highest scores ever on the exam, which tests general knowledge, you know. Intelligence. It’s not about police procedure.”
“Do you know if Detective Della Porta was active in civic groups?” Hilliard asked.