James Sheehan - The Law of Second Chances

Jack’s next call was to the Florida State Prison at Starke to set up an interview with Henry for that Friday. He now had some news for him.

That evening Pat and Jack took their treasured run along the river. “This is so boring,” Pat said as they jogged along together. “Every night the same thing-starry skies, peaceful waters, weeping willows, pelicans, owls. . I miss the action of the big city-the robberies, the murders, the rapes. You know what I mean, Jack?”

“I’m with you, honey.” She was always content, and she made him feel the same way no matter how his day had gone.

“So tell me about all this new evidence that you’ve uncovered.”

“Well, I talked to Ted Griffin, the lawyer, and Anthony Webster, the prosecutor’s investigator, and I got the notes of his interview with James Vernon. The bottom line is that James Vernon told the prosecutor’s investigator that he was at the scene of the murder and Henry Wilson wasn’t there, and Wofford Benton never knew about that conversation.”

“Would it have made a difference if he did?”

“Absolutely. When Vernon took the Fifth at trial and refused to testify, Benton called a prison snitch to the stand. If he had known about Anthony Webster and called him instead, Henry Wilson might have walked.”

“So Henry is innocent.”

“Not necessarily. The original source of all this new information was James Vernon and he may have been lying like a rug.”

Just then Pat saw something rise in the river. “Look!” she pointed.

“What is it?” Jack asked as they stopped to look.

“It’s a manatee!” she said gleefully. “I was just telling the kids about them the other day. Oh, I wish I had a camera.” They stood and watched as the big hulking thing lazily drifted down the river with not a care in the world. They only resumed their run when it was out of sight.

“Have you tried to locate James Vernon and what’s that other guy’s name-the witness against Henry?”

“David Hawke?”

“Yeah, that’s the one I was thinking of. Have you tried to find them and talk to them?”

“I did. They’re both dead. Vernon was killed five years ago in a drug deal gone bad and Hawke was also murdered-I don’t know when.”

“Is that good or bad for Henry?”

“It’s good if he gets a new trial. With Hawke dead, there’ll be no evidence to convict him. It won’t help him get a new trial though.”

“It sounds like you’ve got the evidence to do that.”

“Maybe. I don’t know if I can meet the legal standard, and I’m still not sure that he’s innocent.”

“Well, Jack, as I said before, present the evidence and leave the rest to fate. What’s the standard you need to meet-new evidence?”

“Newly discovered evidence.”

“Well, this is newly discovered evidence, isn’t it? How was anybody to know that the prosecutor’s investigator did this interview?”

“Wofford would have known if he had talked to Ted Griffin. Wofford didn’t talk to him, and he should have. Ted Griffin would have told him about Anthony Webster.”

“Wait a minute! You mean the prosecutor finds evidence that the person he or she is prosecuting may be innocent and they can hide it?”

“Something like that.”

“No, Jack. No. I won’t accept that. That can’t be the law. How can a prosecutor who represents all of us hide evidence of a person’s innocence? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s just an evidentiary rule.”

“Well, if that’s the rule, whoever said the law is an ass is right. That is asinine.”

Jack smiled to himself. Pat certainly had a way of getting to the heart of the matter.

It took about an hour for Ralph Giglio, the police sketch artist, to come up with a detailed picture of the man Paul and David had seen outside their window on the night of Carl Robertson’s murder. Nick and Tony were both impressed.

“We need to get this picture in the neighborhood-stores, shops, apartment buildings-everywhere,” Nick told Tony.

“How about the Post and the News ?” Tony offered. “They’ve been following this case pretty closely. I’ll bet they’ll put something like this on the front page.”

“You’re probably right, but let’s wait. The last thing we want is for this guy to see his picture in the paper and skip town.”

Tony took another look at the sketch. “You know, this guy looks familiar to me. I think I’ve run across him in my travels.”

“Well, if you have, it will come to you probably when you least expect it-like in the shower or something,” Nick said. “Take a copy of the sketch with you and start thinking about all the different places you’ve worked in your career. If you know him, he’ll pop up.”

“All right, I’ll give it a shot,” Tony said as he stuffed a copy of the sketch in his inside jacket pocket.

Meanwhile, Philly Gertz was getting his turn with Ralph. Their attempt to come up with a sketch of the woman who’d been with Angie was a little less successful. Ralph could draw the black hair, but the rest of Philly’s description just didn’t make it.

“She was beautiful.”

“In what way, Philly?”

“She was hot, you know what I mean? Legs up to her neck-man, I’m telling you, she was hot.”

“Can you give me any specifics about what she looked like?”

“I just did.”

“Can you describe her in any other way-her facial features, for instance?”

“All I can tell you is that they were like grapefruits. Not too big, just the right size. You know what I mean?”

“This guy’s impossible,” Ralph told Nick a half hour later. “If he tells me she had nice grapefruits one more time I’m going to club him.”

Nick shook his head knowingly. There were people who just couldn’t manage to provide an accurate description. It didn’t surprise him that Philly Gertz was one of them.

“Thanks, Ralph. I’ll let him go.”

Nick walked out into the waiting area where Philly was sitting.

“Ralph says you were a great help, Philly.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Because I’m kind of a big-picture guy, you know? I’m not much for details.”

“Well, Ralph says he got the big picture.”

“Good, ’cause I was a little worried there.”

“No, you did fine. We’ll be in touch. Thanks again.”

“My pleasure, Nick. I won’t forget you guys, either-you know, when the press comes around.”

“Thanks, Philly.”

Nick had gotten in touch with Angie, and the next morning he and Tony arrived at her apartment to tie up some loose ends.

Angie looked much better this time. The dark circles under her eyes were gone and she appeared well rested. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. Nick could see the disappointment on Tony’s face. Tony had wanted to see Angie one more time in that nightgown. The man was hopeless. It wasn’t an entire disaster for Tony, however. Angie was just plain beautiful any way you cut it, and she looked especially sexy in jeans and a T-shirt.

“Won’t you come in, gentlemen?” She motioned to them with a polite smile on her face.

The apartment had changed quite a bit since their last visit. There were boxes everywhere, some of them half-filled, some already sealed.

“I’m not waiting for Carl’s family to get a court order. I’m getting my things and I’m getting out,” she told them before they could ask.

Tony and Nick both knew the operative part of that statement was “getting my things.” Once an executor was appointed, the apartment would be locked and all assets would be frozen. Angie was taking possession of what she could before that happened.