James Sheehan - The Mayor of Lexington Avenue

“I’m retired and I’ve been living in Utah for the last ten years,” Del told the jury.

Jack skipped over the story of how he’d found Del. It wasn’t of interest to the jury. He had hired two people to go through all of Tracey’s telephone messages for the month before she died. Through a painstaking process, they’d discovered one of the calls was made from the home of Del Shorter’s sister in Stuart. Jack made the visit himself. It was not unlike the visit he had made to Maria Lopez the first time. The sister admitted that Del had visited and, in a fit of conscience, he had contacted Tracey James, but when she was killed he got scared and went back to Utah-which is where the Grunt had expected him to remain forever.

“In 1986, I was Wesley Brume’s partner.”

He proceeded to pound Wesley and, where he could, Clay into the ground as he responded to Jack’s questions.

“Officer Brume sent me out on January 24, 1986, to meet with Elena Kelly and to keep her occupied while he interrogated her son. When she caught on to what I was doing, she demanded to see her son. I told her she wasn’t a lawyer.”

In response to questions about the rape file, Del admitted his own complicity.

“We knew we were hiding the semen evidence. That’s why we created the rape file. There was no evidence of rape. Wes wasn’t smart enough to come up with the idea himself. He told me about it immediately after a meeting with Clay Evans. . The coroner was in on it. He had to be.”

The final blow was the 1988 letter, but even at this stage-even though he had made Jimmy look like a fool so many times-Jack held a little back so Jimmy could step right into it on cross.

“I knew about the letter. I saw it when Maria showed it to Mr. Brume. They knew it would blow their case. Evans was up for a federal judgeship at the time, and Brume was hoping when that happened something good would happen for him, which it did.”

Jimmy DiCarlo had nothing to lose on cross. He went after Del Shorter with a vengeance.

“So you were part of this-this criminal activity-is that what you’re telling this jury?”

“Yes.”

“And I presume you told Mr. Tobin all about your participation before today?”

“Yes.”

“And you have not been prosecuted for any crimes, have you?”

“No.”

“Even though, if you had come forward at any time about what you knew, you could have stopped Rudy Kelly’s execution?”

“Yes.”

“You are as much responsible for his death as anybody, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Maybe even more so.”

“I don’t understand your question?”

“You took the call from Maria Lopez on January 24, 1986. You made the decision not to tell Wesley Brume that Rudy’s mother was out there demanding to see her son. You made the decision to stall her!”

“I did not! I did not!”

“And you were the one who came up with the idea of a separate rape file!”

“I did not!”

“Oh no? Why is the rape investigative file signed by you? Why does it state, and I quote: ‘It is the opinion of this investigator that this rape investigation should be separate from the murder investigation’?”

“I don’t know. Probably because Brume wanted it that way.”

“Or you wanted it that way.”

Jimmy was actually making some headway. Jack was enjoying it because he knew what was coming. Clay Evans had given up. He knew the ballgame was over and that Jimmy was simply no match for Jack. He had made a bad choice and he had paid dearly for it. At least now, at the end, he could sit back and watch Jimmy’s evisceration.

“You knew Jack Tobin was getting close, so you got with your friend Maria Lopez and you made up this 1988 letter from the Del Rio police department and you fed it to Mr. Tobin so you wouldn’t be prosecuted.”

“That’s not true!”

“There was never any letter, Mr. Shorter, and you know it.”

“That’s not true, Mr. DiCarlo, I have a copy right here. I made a copy of it and kept it. I’m not sure why. Maybe just because I thought I might need it someday.”

Jimmy DiCarlo wasn’t sure he’d heard the answer right. At that moment, Clay Evans wanted to shoot this incompetent oaf with whom he had entrusted his life.

Del Shorter produced a document from his jacket pocket and held it out to Jimmy, who didn’t even want to go near it.

“Take the letter, Mr. DiCarlo,” Judge Stanton said softly. Jimmy finally took the letter.

“You could have typed this letter yesterday. The signature is unreadable,” Jimmy said after a quick glance. Questions had long ago gone by the wayside.

“I didn’t,” Del countered.

“And you don’t know if Wesley Brume ever talked to Clay Evans about this letter, do you?”

“No.”

“No further questions.” Jimmy tossed the letter onto the podium dismissively and walked back to his table acting as if he had decimated Del Shorter on cross. He didn’t even hear Jack call Philip Sheridan back to the stand.

“Mr. Sheridan, I have a letter here purported to be from your police department dated June 16, 1988. The signature is kind of hard to read. Could you take a look at it and see if you could identify the signature?” Jack handed the letter to Philip Sheridan.

“That’s my signature,” Sheridan replied after examining the letter.

“And did your department normally send out letters like this when you believed a suspect came from another state?”

“All the time.”

“How long do you keep those letters?”

“It all depends. We have what we call a ‘pending file.’ If the letter isn’t answered, it stays in the pending file and is purged after three years. If it is answered, it becomes part of the criminal investigative file and is not purged.”

“So, now that you have identified your signature on that copy, can you re-create for us what happened with this letter?”

“Sure. We probably sent it out and never received an answer and after three years purged it from our files. That’s why I testified that I had no record of such a letter.”

“Thank you, Officer Sheridan. No further questions, Your Honor.”

Jack had the letter marked and admitted into evidence over Jimmy’s strenuous objection.

“Redirect?” the judge asked, almost smiling. Jimmy had finally gotten the picture.

“No, Your Honor.”

“Any more witnesses, Mr. Tobin?”

“No, Your Honor. The prosecution rests.”

Jimmy was up before Jack had finished. “We renew our Motion for Acquittal, Your Honor.” There were actually some chuckles from the spectators and the press row.

“It’s 11:30 right now,” the judge said, looking at his watch. “I’m going to dismiss the jury for lunch and we’ll discuss the Motion for Acquittal.” The judge turned to the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to give you a long lunch. You don’t have to be back until 1:30, at which time you’ll hear closing arguments. I suspect that you will be deliberating by the end of the day. Remember all my admonitions to you. Do not talk about the case to anyone or among yourselves. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Okay,” the judge started after the jury had filed out, “I’m going to give it to you short and sweet so you have time to digest it over lunch and to modify your closing arguments if necessary. I’m dismissing the case against Clay Evans.” A low murmur spread through the courtroom. Judge Stanton ignored it. “Mr. Evans was the prosecutor in the Kelly case. As such, he enjoyed absolute immunity. The only possible way he could be criminally responsible for Rudy Kelly’s murder is if, after the prosecution was completed, he participated in some illegal scheme to have Rudy Kelly executed. I listened carefully to all the testimony and there is no evidence that Mr. Evans even knew about the 1988 letter from the Del Rio police department. Maria Lopez, the state’s best witness on this issue, said she had no real proof that Wesley Brume even talked to Clay Evans about this letter. Mr. Shorter also admitted that he had no proof that Brume told Evans about the letter. Without this critical nexus, I must dismiss this case against Mr. Evans.