Nancy Grace - The Eleventh Victim

It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was throwing a wrench in Kolker’s preconceived theory. That was the only prize for Hailey right now…keeping him off balance. And the times of death…there was a weakness here. She sensed it.

“But back to the time of death,” she said, trying her best to wheedle information out of him so she’d have something to go on in her own defense. “I mean, that is step one, wouldn’t you say? Time of death?”

“For your information, we have officially set the time of death for Hayden Krasinski at eight thirty p.m. Melissa Everett died at nine fifteen p.m. the preceding Wednesday. Nice touch playing dumb, Dean, as if you didn’t already know. So while we’re on that topic-”

She cut in coolly. “I’ll continue the interview as long as you keep the recorder going. The trial judge might not like it when she finds out you turned it off.”

The twitch in his right eye went crazy, and Kolker punched the recorder’s red “On” button again.

They both knew it was highly inappropriate to tape only portions of a police interview. If the case made it to a courtroom, such a practice would lead to successful motions to suppress the entire discussion, thrown out on claims police had edited or tampered with the defendant’s statement.

Score two for Hailey.

Sweat appeared on Kolker’s upper lip, and his collar showed dark, damp areas where it met the skin of his neck.

“Where were you at nine fifteen last Wednesday night, Ms. Dean?” he asked crisply. “Or do you need a lawyer to dream up an alibi for you?”

Wednesday…nine fifteen…Where was she?

Where was she on that night, for God’s sake?

Her mind stretched to the limit, but she couldn’t remember.

Then it hit. She leaned forward from the waist, as if she was making sure the recorder picked it up, heavy on the drama for the benefit of the peanut gallery watching from behind the two-way mirror.

“Get this, Kolker. I don’t need a defense lawyer to protect me from you because I don’t need protection. I don’t need a defense lawyer at trial because there will be no trial. And I certainly don’t need a defense lawyer to dream up an alibi…because I know exactly where I was. Check it out. I was at the New York Sports Club on Third Avenue at Fortieth Street. I showed my club ID, the computer read it and logged it. There should be a computer record to verify it.”

“Nice try, but I checked you out… I know your drill. You’re just like clockwork…always the same thing, every night of your lonely little life. When it’s nice, you run the East River, when it’s not, you run the treadmill and lift weights at the gym. Out running alone doesn’t amount to an alibi. And for all I know you could have left that night right after you signed in, just to create an alibi. Would have been a decent story, too. But sorry, no good, Counselor.”

Damn…he had done his homework. Who the hell had told him her workout schedule?

Then the truth hit. Who else could it be but Dana?

Hailey could just see her, drinking in every drop of attention Kolker or any half-decent-looking man was willing to feed her. Dana could talk forever and apparently had.

But it wasn’t over yet .

“Well, normally , that would be correct. If you did your homework instead of listening to office gossip, you’d already know Wednesday night was a little different. Change up in the routine.” She paused for effect, just long enough to get him nervous.

Leaning back into the tape recorder, she went on. “Wednesday night, when I signed in at the Sports Club the weather was bad. Too cold for me, anyway. Check it out, Kolker…call the Weather Channel. And as for the treadmill, that particular night management was redoing the treadmill room to install individual televisions on each machine. I couldn’t use the treadmill, so I signed into an aerobics class-probably two dozen witnesses, maybe more. I got stuck in the very front row and I didn’t know the steps, plus my ribs ached, so I’m sure they’ll all remember me.”

Kolker looked as if he had taken a punch to the gut. If she was telling the truth, and her steady gaze straight into his eyes suggested she was, his “airtight” case against her was falling apart in front of his eyes.

“It was a funk-aerobics class…and it went from eight thirty until ten o’clock that night. Then I took a shower. And, Kolker, I walked out of the building that night with the instructor. I was there when she locked the glass doors in the front of the club. Check the security camera in the gym lobby. You’ll see me, but you’d better hurry. In case you didn’t know, banks, convenience stores, ATM machines…those cameras tape over every seven to eleven days at best .”

Before he could respond, she continued on. “After that, I went across the street to the mini-mart at Thirty-eighth and Third. A few of them are open twenty-four hours, you know that much, right? I bought groceries.”

Almost immediately, his eyes lit up.

Before he could even blurt it out, she held up her hand. “Don’t get excited… I didn’t pay cash. Used a debit card. Comes right off my checking account. Immediately. If you have wireless in here I could pull it up for you right now. You know how to use a computer, right? You know…e-mail…online banking…surfing the Internet… It’s easy now, Kolker, it even shows the time-somewhere around ten thirty. How does that fit into your theory? Pretty well, if you totally want to throw out the time line your Medical Examiner established for the time of death. Or, hey, your theory could still conceivably work…if the body had been found in the dairy section at the mini-mart.”

She saw him glance over at the mirror. They had to be laughing into their fists at him back there by now, and before he thought it through, he shot back.

“The time is fluid, Dean. And I’ve still got you on Hayden’s murder. You may talk your way out of one-and I’m not saying you did-but not the other. You’re dead in the water, Dean.”

The veins on either side of his temple were bulging, and his face was red.

You’d better watch it, she told herself, realizing this might not be the right time to be a smart-ass.

After all, he did have the keys to the jail, literally. “What about Thursday night? Where were you?” Kolker asked without a pause.

She pulled back. “I’m clear on Thursday, too. I ran the East River.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.” The tables turned abruptly. She knew she was in trouble.

“Running alone along the East River? No witness? No running buddy?” Kolker smiled, rummaged in his pocket for a quarter and pushed it across the worn tabletop with the pink eraser tip of a yellow pencil. “I know it hurts, Hailey…but don’t feel too bad. Here’s a present. It’s from me to you…to call your lawyer. Nice try, Hailey.” He stood up and gazed triumphantly toward the mirror, nodding his head slightly to his cronies on the other side, as if he were taking a bow.

She knew he was right. Running by herself…all alone along the East River jogging path…wouldn’t work. No witnesses…but wait…what could she do…Was there any way she could alibi herself? They’d still hold her, even on the single Murder One count, even if the other was weak. Without thinking it through, she spoke.

“Well, you have a point. But, Kolker, I ran with my cell phone tucked into the pocket of my sweatshirt. I was thinking as I ran. I had an idea about an article I’m working on, and before I lost the thought, I called my office. I left a message to remind myself.”

“So what does that prove? You could have easily made the call anytime from anywhere…maybe leaving the body warm on the ground at the scene of the murder, for all I know.”