Lisa Scottoline - Mistaken Identity

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Amazon.com Review
When confronted with the most challenging and the most personal case of her legal career, Bennie Rosato-an expert on police corruption-questions everything she has learned as a criminal attorney, and everyone she considers to be family. During a visit behind the bars of Philadelphia 's Central Corrections facility, Bennie is shocked to discover that an inmate bears a striking physical resemblance to herself. The prisoner, Alice Connolly, stands accused of murdering her cop boyfriend Anthony Della Porta, and the case reeks of a police conspiracy. Connolly convinces Bennie to defend her in court. Bennie feels confused, intrigued, and even somewhat elated by this clone of herself, and dives head first into a bubbling cauldron of corruption, drugs, murder, and assault-mixed in with a thought-provoking subplot that questions the intricacies of legal ethics.
Mistaken Identity is Lisa Scottoline's sixth and tastiest dish yet. The book is gripping and smart, and it brings into bloom the highly likable character of Bennie Rosato, who made her debut appearance in Legal Tender. Bennie has her vulnerable moments-we witness this when, in some emotional scenes, she doubts the authenticity of her twin. Still, Ms. Rosato is no shrinking violet, especially when it comes to exposing the questionable goings-on of Philadelphia 's Eleventh Precinct.
Scottoline keeps us in a bubble of suspense-is Connolly really Bennie's twin? Did she murder Della Porta? If not, who did and why? The author neatly ties all our unanswered questions together into a perfectly formed bow, and keeps us frantically turning pages until the very end.
From Publishers Weekly
Double jeopardy is more than just a legal term in this taut and smart courtroom drama by Edgar Award winner Scottoline. Bennie Rosato, the irrepressible head of an all-female Philadelphia law firm, moves to center stage after playing a supporting role in the author's previous novel, Rough Justice. Bennie's client is tough, manipulative Alice Connolly, charged with murdering her police detective boyfriend, who may or may not have been a drug dealer. Complicating matters is Alice 's claim to be Bennie's identical twin sister and to have been visited by their long-lost father. Despite her wrenching emotional reaction to this revelation and her mother's deteriorating health, Bennie puts her personal and professional life on the line, immersing herself in the case. She enlists the aid of her associates, Mary DiNunzio and Judy Carrier, as well as Lou Jacobs, a cantankerous retired cop she hires as an investigator. They discover that a web of corruption may have enveloped the prosecuting attorney and judge who are now trying Alice 's case. Scottoline effectively alternates her settings between prison, law office, courtroom and the streets. Readers familiar with her previous work will enjoy the continuing evolution of the characters' relationships. Judy is still the bolder of the two associates, her experiences highlighted this time by an amusing venture into the seamy world of pro boxing. But Mary, until now a timid and reluctant lawyer ("Maybe I could get a job eating"), emerges from her shell. Scottoline falters occasionally by resorting to ethnic stereotypes, particularly in her dialogue, but generally succeeds in creating a brisk, multilayered thriller that plunges Rosato Associates into a maelstrom of legal, ethical and familial conundrums, culminating in an intricate, dramatic and intense courtroom finale. Agent, Molly Friedrich. Major ad/promo; author tour. (Mar.) FYI: Mistaken Identity is one of the six books excerpted in Diet Coke's marketing campaign.

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Bennie pushed herself back into her chair. She knew the jurors would steal glances at defense table and absorb the visual impact of her sitting next to Connolly, like bookends. She wished she could hold up a sign that said, THIS WAS ALL HER DOING, but then realized that it wouldn’t be true. It was Bennie’s doing. She had devised the twin defense and set it in motion. She was locked in a prison of her own making. And the murderer was on the outside, with the key.

Bennie felt like apologizing to every juror. They were a smart jury, with a higher education level than most. She and Hilliard had picked them in record time for a death-qualified jury, because Judge Guthrie had presided over voir dire and permitted only the most routine questions. It wasn’t her favorite way to pick a jury, but Bennie had relied on her instincts, biases, and judgment to wind up with a good, fair crew.

Crack! “This is Commonwealth v. Connolly, Docket Number 82634,” Judge Guthrie said. “Good morning, ladies and gentleman of the jury. We met earlier during voir dire and now it’s time to begin our work in earnest. Mr. Hilliard, are you ready for your opening argument?” His graceful tone sounded more like a question than an order, and Hilliard reached for his crutches, placed them expertly under his elbows, and rose from his seat.

“I am, Your Honor.” The district attorney nodded curtly in his dark, pinstriped suit, sharply tailored around his large, muscular frame. The jurors eyed him as he walked to the podium, grunting slightly from the effort of movements they all took for granted. Bennie watched their gaze lingering on the contradiction of a huge, strong body that couldn’t power itself even a single step forward. Well-meaning people, the jurors’ faces showed a sympathy they couldn’t help but feel. It was an open secret that Hilliard’s disability gave him a politically correct edge with them, though it clearly wasn’t intended. His disability was a nonissue for him.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he began, “my name is Dorsey Hilliard and I represent the people of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania against Alice Connolly. The defendant has been charged with the crime of murder for the death of her lover, Detective Anthony Della Porta. I do not believe in lengthy arguments. I let my witnesses do my talking for me. So I will keep this brief.”

Hilliard raised his voice, his bass tones resonant and his cadence no-nonsense. “The Commonwealth will prove that on the night of the murder, the lovers argued, as they did with increasing frequency. After the argument, the defendant shot Detective Anthony Della Porta point-blank in the head with a handgun. The Commonwealth will prove that the defendant did intentionally, and in a premeditated manner, murder Detective Della Porta, one of the most respected and decorated detectives in the Philadelphia Police Department.”

Bennie shifted in her chair, thinking of the money she’d found under the floorboards. How the hell would she get it in?

“The evidence will show that neighbors heard the lethal gunshot and saw the defendant fleeing the scene of the crime. Police arrived at the scene and also saw her fleeing, holding a plastic bag. They saw her run into an alley to escape them. They were able to arrest her only by chasing her and finally tackling her to the ground. Even then, the defendant fought to escape, and what she told them when they arrested her will not only shock you, it will prove to you beyond any doubt that she is guilty of this crime.”

Back at defense table, Bennie tried not to squirm. She could only imagine what the cops would make up. At her shoulder, Connolly was shifting in her seat, though Bennie couldn’t tell if it was artifice or nerves.

After a pause, Hilliard continued. “Once the defendant was in custody, police conducted a complete search of Trose Street, including the alley that the defendant had run into. You will hear evidence that there was a Dumpster in the alley, and in the Dumpster, authorities found that plastic bag, which contained clothes belonging to the defendant. Experts will tell you that the clothes were soaked with the still-warm blood of Detective Della Porta.” Hilliard paused again, as if for a moment of silence. “By the last witness for the Commonwealth, each of you will be absolutely certain that the defendant killed Anthony Della Porta and is guilty of murder. Thank you for your attention, for your service to the Commonwealth, and to our country.” Hilliard eased into his crutches and returned to his seat.

“Ms. Rosato,” Judge Guthrie said, “we’re ready for your opening argument.” He moved some papers on the dais, without looking up. The black marble backdrop behind the dais glistened darkly and the ersatz gold disk of the Commonwealth shone like a tarnished sun.

Bennie rose to her feet, her expression only apparently confident. She walked straight to the jury, bypassing the podium. She always delivered her arguments standing directly in front of the jury, talking to them eye-to-eye. Usually Bennie knew exactly what she’d say.

Not today.

55

Bennie slipped her hands in her skirt pockets and stood silent for a minute, head down, trying to compose herself. She thought of her mother, and Connolly. Then the black TransAm, for which she looked every trip to and from the courthouse, and the murdered inmates. The rarest thing in a courtroom was a lawyer not talking, and Bennie felt, more than heard, the courtroom fall quiet and the jury waiting, their eyes on her. She looked up, cleared her mind, and did another remarkable thing. She decided to tell them everything, and all of it the truth.

“My name is Bennie Rosato, and I represent Alice Connolly, who is accused of murder in this case. I remember selecting you for this jury, and you were an intelligent group, so I will address you as such. You have undoubtedly noticed that Alice Connolly and I look alike. We look like identical twins, in fact.”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Hilliard said, pushing himself out of his seat with two solid arms. “Ms. Rosato’s familial relationships are absolutely irrelevant to this case.”

Judge Guthrie slipped his glasses from his nose. “Please approach the bench, counsel.”

“Yes, sir.” Bennie swallowed hard and strode to the dais, where Hilliard met her, standing next to a court reporter.

Judge Guthrie leaned forward. “What is going on here, Ms. Rosato?”

“I’m making my opening statement, Your Honor. I want to deal up front with a matter the jury has to be wondering about, as you must be.”

“Your personal relationships have nothing to do with the guilt or innocence of this defendant.” Judge Guthrie shifted unhappily and the rich folds of his black robing caught the overhead light. “Your twinship is a collateral issue at best.”

“Of course it’s collateral,” Hilliard agreed, his tone angry even at a whisper. “It’s more than collateral, in fact. It’s completely irrelevant and prejudicial.”

Bennie held up a slightly shaking palm. “That’s precisely my point. It is collateral, but it has the power to distract the jury so much they can’t focus on the evidence. If I don’t deal with this issue at the outset, the whole trial they’ll be thinking-are they twins or aren’t they?”

Hilliard’s shaved head snapped toward the judge. “Your Honor, does defense counsel really expect us to believe that she didn’t dress her client for court today? That she didn’t hide her for jury selection? Ms. Rosato wants the jury to make the connection between her and her client. Their hair and their clothes are the same. She’s managed to personally vouch for the defendant without saying a word.”

Bennie grasped the dais more urgently than she wanted to acknowledge. “I’m trying to defuse this situation, Your Honor, by putting it on the table. Ms. Connolly is on trial for her life, and as defense counsel, it’s an error not to afford me the latitude to dispose of any issue that will obviate her ability to get a fair trial. I have every right to finish my opening, Your Honor. I… have no choice.”

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