Chapter 14
“I really
don’t see why it was necessary to drag us out of bed in the wee hours of the
morning. It isn’t like the guy was going anywhere with all of those bullet
holes in him. It could’ve waited a couple of hours,” Briscoe grumbled, rubbing
his face tiredly.
Green
yawned and nodded. “I guess they wanted to clean up the crime scene before the
commuters started stirring.” He glanced over his shoulder and switched lanes. “It
would’ve been worth it to get out of bed that early if we had actually been
able to find someone who wasn’t deaf, dumb, and blind. You’d think someone who
lived in the apartment complex where he was killed would’ve heard six gunshots
at
“The
motto of urban life: Mind your own business. It wouldn’t have mattered if
anyone had heard or seen something. No one would’ve talked any… Hey!” Briscoe
exclaimed as Green suddenly swerved to the right. “What are you doing, trying
to give me whiplash?”
Pulling
over to the curb abruptly and stopping, Green pointed to the building beside
them. “This is the Canal Street Post Office.”
“Yeah.
So?”
Pointing
behind them, Green asked, “Doesn’t that vendor with the coffee cart look like a
Hispanic woman in her forties or fifties?”
“And
again I ask, so?” Briscoe queried with annoyance.
“Don’t
you remember what Eric Fisher said when we first interrogated him? He said he
mailed a letter at the Canal Street Post Office on the morning Corinna Braden
was murdered and stopped at a vendor cart for coffee sometime between
Briscoe
looked over his shoulder at the woman. “Son of a…” He shook his head. “It can’t
be. We’ve been by here half a dozen times since we picked Fisher up and she’s
never been there. If it turns out he was telling the truth…”
“Before
we get worked up over what could be nothing, let’s go talk to her. Fisher still
could’ve been lying.”
As they
got out of the cruiser, Briscoe noted, “We’d better hope he was lying.
Otherwise, our asses are grass. I’d just as soon shoot myself as tell McCoy
that we’ve confirmed Fisher’s alibi, especially since I assured him before the
trial began that it was bogus.”
“Don’t give
yourself an ulcer, Lennie. Let’s just see what the woman has to say.”
***When McCoy exited the elevator and headed
toward his office, he was met immediately by Briscoe, who had been waiting
beside the receptionist’s desk.
“Counselor, can I have a word with you?”
McCoy
looked at him suspiciously. It wasn’t often that Briscoe asked permission for
anything.
“Sure,”
he agreed warily. “Come to my office.”
Once they
had made their way down the hall and entered his office, McCoy turned on the
lights, placed his motorcycle helmet on the credenza, and dropped his briefcase
onto his desk. Facing Briscoe, he asked, “What’s up?”
“It’s
about Fisher’s alibi.”
McCoy’s
eyes met Briscoe’s with searing intensity. “What about it?”
“Early
this morning, Ed and I were called to a crime scene about four blocks from the
Canal Street Post Office. Afterwards, when we were on our way to the station
house, we spotted a woman selling coffee and muffins by the Post Office. She
fit the general description that Fisher gave of the woman he claimed could
provide him with an alibi.”
Not
wanting to hear the bad news that Briscoe was surely going to give him, McCoy
closed his eyes and prompted, “And?”
“We
stopped and talked to her. Her name is Mrs. Lopez and it seems she’s been in
Leaning
back against his desk, McCoy asked, “Are you sure?”
“We’re
sure. Ed and I figure Fisher saw the woman some other morning and just used the
first thing that popped into his head during the interrogation.”
Breathing
a sigh of relief, McCoy said, “You’re probably right. He may even have spoken
to her at some other time.”
Briscoe
paused for a few seconds before saying, “Look, I was wondering what we could do
to make sure this information doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. I’d hate to
see somebody put an idea into this poor woman’s head to cause her to suddenly
remember something that never happened.”
McCoy
studied the other man carefully, knowing full well what he was asking. “You
mean, is this information exculpatory and are we obligated to share it with the
defense?”
“Yeah, I
guess that’s what I want to know.”
Standing
up and making his way around to the other side of his desk, McCoy answered
matter-of-factly, “What’s there to tell? The woman couldn’t identify Fisher.
You thoroughly investigated his alibi and found it to be a lie. Case closed.”
Briscoe
nodded as McCoy sat down. “That’s what I was thinking, too. I just wanted to
make sure the law was on our side here.”
“It is,”
McCoy assured him. “I’m glad you checked with me, Detective.”
“So am I,”
Briscoe agreed. As he turned to leave, he smiled and added, “Have a nice day,
Counselor.”
***“Mr. Julian, what kind of employee is Eric?”
Morgan asked.
The man
sitting in the witness box answered, “He’s an asset to our company. He’s a hard
worker and is always thoughtful with the customers. He comes to work on time
and doesn’t ask for extra time off. When I put him on the schedule, I can rely
on him to work his shift.”
Morgan
walked back to the defense table and picked up a piece of paper. “I would like
to enter into evidence defense exhibit A.”
“So
noted,” Ianello said.
Walking
back to the witness stand, Morgan handed it to Julian. “Can you tell the court
what this is?”
The man
scanned the paper briefly and nodded. “It’s a copy of Eric’s time card.”
“Would
you please read the highlighted date stamped on it?”
“It’s for
May fifth of this year.”
“And what
time did he clock in on that date?”
“The time
stamped on it is
“And is
that the time he was scheduled to arrive at work on the date in question?”
“Yes, it
is.”
“Just one
more thing, Mr. Julian. You mentioned that Eric is a hard worker. Does that mean you still consider him an
employee?”
“Yes, I
do. His job will be waiting for him as soon as he’s able to return.”
“Even
with the accusations he’s facing?”
“Yes. I
don’t believe they’re true and I’m certain he’ll be exonerated. Eric simply
isn’t capable of doing what he’s been accused of. In all the time I’ve known
him, I’ve never seen him so much as raise his voice, even when dealing with an
irate customer. He’s a kind, courteous person who would never do anything to
harm anyone. This is all some sort of horrible mistake.”
“Thank
you, Mr. Julian.”
McCoy
stood up and made his way to the witness box while Morgan handed the time card
to the clerk.
“Did you
actually see the defendant punch in at
“No,” he
admitted, “I didn’t. I arrived at work later that morning.”
“Would it
be possible for another person to punch in on an employee’s time card?”
“We keep
the time cards and clock in the employees’ break room. No one other than an
employee is allowed into that area.”
“Would be
possible for another employee to punch in for someone else?”
“Yes, I
suppose it would be possible, but we haven’t had a problem with anyone doing
that. It’s against company policy and anyone caught doing so is subject to
immediate termination.”
McCoy
smiled slightly and nodded. “If they
get caught. No further questions.”
***“Jack?” Southerlyn queried as they exited the
elevator in the parking garage of
He turned
to look at her blankly. “Did you say something?”
“Yes. I
said I’m glad it’s the weekend,” she replied. “I know I need a break and, judging
by your lack of attentiveness, I’d say you could use one, too.”
“I guess
we all do,” McCoy concurred.
“Where
were you, anyway? You seemed as if you were a thousand miles away.”
He shook
his head as he walked with her between the rows of vehicles. “I was just
thinking about something. It isn’t important.”
“Well
that’s the second time I’ve had to call you back to earth. I’m beginning to get
a complex,” she noted.
“Sorry.
It doesn’t have anything to do with the company I’m keeping,” he assured her
with a slight smile.
“Well
that’s good to know. Speaking of breaks, when do you think Morgan will be ready
for closing arguments?”
“Since
she only has Mrs. Johnson left on her witness list, I’m sure she’ll finish on
Monday and be ready to close afterwards.”
“What do
you think our chances are of getting a conviction?”
“Not
great, but we’re not down for the count just yet,” he answered as they came to
a stop behind Southerlyn’s car. “Even though she used Fisher’s coworkers today
to testify that no one clocked in for him on the day of the murder, as Ed
pointed out yesterday he still would’ve had enough time to kill the girl and
punch in himself at 5:30. And the one item that Calea hasn’t offered any
explanation for is Fisher’s absence from his apartment earlier that morning.
I’m sure she’ll question Mrs. Johnson about that and try to get her to change
her story, but it’s something the jury is going to be wondering about.”
“Let’s
hope it’s enough to make them vote in our favor. Do you think she’ll put Fisher
on the stand to explain his actions and account for his whereabouts?”
He
shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s probably playing it by ear. In her situation,
that’s what I’d do.”
Southerlyn nodded. “Well, I guess I should be getting home.” She glanced at her car, then back at him. “Do
you want to go have a drink somewhere first?”
McCoy
shook his head. “Not this evening. Maybe some other time. I have a couple of
errands to run on my way home. Thanks for the offer, though.”
Southerlyn
smiled. “Any time. I’ll see you on Monday, Jack. Have a good weekend.”
“You,
too, Serena.”
As he
made his way to his motorcycle, he waved when she passed him and wished he had
taken her up on her offer.