William Bernhardt - Death Row

“What happened?”

“Rothko. He arrived at the scene-and found a slaughterhouse. He was incensed. He hadn’t wanted this. So he says. He did what he could to make the situation better-took the baby back to its crib, took some money to make it look like a robbery, smoothed Frank’s daughter’s skirt. He didn’t know about Erin being in the basement, and he certainly wouldn’t have allowed Aravena to hang around the scene of the crime just to pleasure himself.”

“What about the eyes? Why were all the eyes removed?”

Mike took a deep breath. This was not his favorite part of the story. “You’ve probably wondered why killing Frank would give Rothko the formula. Frank didn’t keep it at home, after all. Rothko needed to get into the plant, which had notoriously high security. He collected Frank’s ID card, but that wasn’t the only thing Rothko needed if he was going to sneak into the lab and steal the formula. As I believe you’ve experienced, Mr. Kincaid, this lab has a retinal-scan screening device. To get in, he needed Frank’s eyes.”

Ben had heard all this before, but that didn’t make it any less horrific. “That explains the mutilation for Frank. Why the others?”

“Cover. If only Frank’s eyes were missing, someone might’ve figured out the reason. But when it happened to the whole family, it seemed like the work of a sadistic psychopath. Which it was, of course. But it was not random violence. It was violence with a very specific purpose.” Mike lowered his chin. “Soon thereafter, the Tulsa PD became convinced that Raymond Goldman was the killer. And he was ultimately convicted, due largely to the eyewitness testimony of Erin Faulkner, who was under great pressure to identify Mr. Goldman as the killer. But it was an ID she was never sure about, and it haunted her thereafter. Her despondency was written off by most who knew her as the grief of a sole survivor. But it was also the guilt of someone who suspected she had been instrumental in the incarceration of an innocent man.”

“So at this point,” Ben said, “Rothko had his formula. He used it to build his restaurant chain into the great success it is today. Another man had been convicted for his crime. He must’ve thought he was scot-free.”

“Indeed he did,” Mike agreed. “Until he ran into Erin Faulkner at the penitentiary in McAlester the night Goldman was almost executed. He had a brief conversation with her and it convinced him that she was about to recant her identification, which of course would reopen the whole case. Rothko couldn’t allow that. He killed her-though not before she spoke to you, Mr. Kincaid-and he made it look like suicide, which in Erin ’s case was always plausible.”

“What about Sheila Knight?”

“Sheila was Erin ’s best friend. She had been with Erin at McAlester, and she’d seen and heard Rothko talking to her. He saw her, too, and he knew who she was. Just to play it safe, after he killed Erin, he kept an eye on her. Sheila had been told that the police suspected Erin was murdered, and that Erin had allegedly recanted her testimony, and when she put that together with the conversation in McAlester, she eventually became convinced that had been the reason Erin was killed. Sheila hadn’t recognized Rothko in McAlester, but being a relatively famous person locally”-he glanced at Christina-“and one of Tulsa ’s most eligible bachelors, it was only a matter of time before she identified him, particularly after the hostage incident in one of his restaurants. His picture was in the World the day she died; I think she saw it and recognized him. At any rate, Rothko couldn’t take the risk. He followed her to a lakeside cabin-he had a cabin himself nearby-and found the paper open to his picture and Sheila in a frenzy. When she saw him, she panicked. Called him a murderer. Ran away. At that point, he had no choice. Another loose end needed to be tied. She had to die.”

“Why did he try to kill Hayley Bennett?”

“Same story, really. She spotted him in your office. She knew she’d seen him before-and not in the society pages. Frank Faulkner was also her patient. He was struggling with office stress-but also, apparently…” How to put this? There was no point in destroying the man’s reputation now. “… also struggling with his feelings for his daughter. And her friends. Anyway, Dr. Bennett had seen Rothko with Frank Faulkner shortly before he died, and she’d made notes about the encounter in Frank’s file.”

“Why did that seem worth noting?”

“Well, Frank had told her he was working on something big. He was very agitated. And her house call to Frank’s home interrupted a business meeting with Rothko-just before Frank was killed. Once Bennett saw him in your office, it didn’t take her long to put it all together. Unfortunately, Rothko recognized her, too, and once again, he saw his elaborate plan falling apart. So he rounded up Aravena-who had no choice but to comply, given all that Rothko knew he had done-and grabbed her. The opportune arrival of a neighbor prevented him from killing Bennett on the spot and making it look like suicide, as he’d done with the others. But he surely would’ve killed her. If we hadn’t intervened.”

Ben paused, letting all that Mike had said sink in. “Major Morelli, at this time, do you or anyone else at the Tulsa PD have any reason to believe Ray Goldman was involved in the murder of the Faulkner family?”

“No. To the contrary, I’m quite certain he was not. I’ve not only investigated this in detail-I’ve also spoken to Mr. Rothko himself. He’s been given partial immunity as to the Faulkner family deaths-even if they were instigated by Rothko, they were actually committed by Mr. Aravena, who is now deceased. That still leaves three murders and two attempteds to charge him with.” Mike turned to look at Judge Derek. “But Raymond Goldman had nothing to do with any of the murders.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“I am. The whole department is sure. There really is no doubt. We made a mistake once. But now we want to set things right.”

“Thank you, Major Morelli.” Ben closed his notebook. “Thank you very much.”

The courtroom was deathly quiet. Ben had concluded the presentation of his evidence. Weintraub had been all but invisible; he made no real objection to anything Ben said or did. Judge Derek had been silent throughout. Not an unnecessary word had been spoken. And now, minutes passed while the handsome judge sat at his bench, not moving, not speaking.

“What’s he doing?” Ray muttered, under his breath.

“I don’t know,” Ben muttered back. “I wish I did.”

“He’s going to turn us down, isn’t he? Just like the other times. He’ll find some excuse.”

“We don’t know that,” Ben said, but in truth, he was thinking the same thing. Had he made a hideous mistake, taking the lead at the hearing? Knowing how intensely Derek hated him, had he sacrificed Ray’s chances to his own bravado? “We’ll just have to wait. And see.”

Mercifully, the interregnum eventually came to an end. “Well,” Derek said, massaging the bridge of his nose, “this presents a bit of a dilemma, doesn’t it?”

Ben felt Christina’s hand dart out for his under the table.

“Your client has exhausted all his appeals. You’re aware of that, aren’t you, Mr. Kincaid?”

Ben rose to his feet. “Yes, your honor. I am.” He was tempted to start arguing. But something told him not to. The man already knows everything you’re tempted to tell him. Just keep your mouth shut. See where he’s going.

“But as you’re also well aware, this court sits both in law and in equity. When newly discovered evidence is brought to light, the court always has the option, in equity, to reopen a case. Most of the newly discovered evidence this court has seen in the past-including in this case-was ridiculously weak and unconvincing.” He paused. “But what I’ve heard today in this courtroom is something else again.”