Lisa Scottoline - Mistaken Identity

The press attacked Bennie the moment she pressed through the courtroom doors, shining TV lights in her face and shouting questions in her ear. “Ms. Rosato, what do you have to say to Ms. Harting’s testimony?” “Ms. Rosato, were you shocked by this turnaround?” “How’s your twin?” Bennie shielded her eyes and fought her way down the marble corridor, with Mike and Ike running interference. “Thanks, guys,” she said, as she slammed the door to the courthouse conference room closed, to face two jubilant associates.

“Bennie! We scored, do you realize that?” Judy exulted from her customary seat, and Mary applauded, a standing ovation. Her face was flushed with excitement.

“It’s over!” Mary said. “Way to go.”

“Cool it, guys,” Bennie said, sitting down wearily.

Judy’s brow buckled with bewilderment. “Bennie, will you at least smile? Shetrell Harting was the big bang and she just went bust. Hilliard is dead! The prosecution is dead!”

Bennie looked up. “Question number one, why did Harting recant?”

“Who cares? She did!”

“Question number two, what if our client got to her?”

Judy fell abruptly silent, but Mary looked positively stricken. “ Did she ?”

“I think so, I just can’t figure out how.”

Mary sank into her chair. “I don’t think it was anything Connolly did, Bennie. Harting was believable, at least I believed her. She started to do something, then she thought better of it. She bit off more than she could chew. Haven’t you ever done that?”

“Yeah, this case.” Bennie smiled bitterly.

“Why do you think Connolly got to her? Do you have any facts?”

“What you just saw was too good to be true. You know the expression, DiNunzio.”

“Yeah.” Mary’s father always used to say that. “So what do we do?”

“I’m thinking about that,” Bennie said, but Judy, standing above them both, planted her hands on her strong hips and frowned.

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Bennie, you lectured me at the crime scene on how a defense lawyer isn’t supposed to seek justice, he’s supposed to get the defendant off. What happened to that?”

“Get the defendant off within the rules, Carrier. Witness tampering is not a trial strategy. I don’t like benefiting from obstruction of justice. I play fair.”

“But it’s not about you, Bennie. You’re not the one who’s benefiting, Connolly is. It’s not you on trial, it’s Connolly.”

“I know that,” Bennie said, though a sinking feeling told her she hadn’t been thinking that way. Separating her identity-and fate-from Connolly’s was growing impossible.

Judy leaned forward urgently. “Besides, you don’t know Connolly had anything to do with Harting’s recanting. They were incarcerated in separate places. All we know is, Harting recanted. We just got a break. We have an obligation to use it.”

“An obligation ?” Bennie laughed, but it sounded like a hiccup. “I see, not only is it okay to exploit it, we’re obligated to exploit it.”

“For sure. We have a duty to represent Connolly to the best of our ability. Zealously. You know what the canons say. You taught me that, remember?” Judy looked like she expected an answer, but Bennie regarded her associate through the haze of a growing headache, so Judy continued. “Look, Hilliard just took a huge blow. If you consider the Harting fiasco, it’s really borderline whether he’s proved his case. I don’t think we should go forward and put on a defense. I think we should rest, right here. Right now.”

“Put it to the jury, now?” Bennie asked, struggling for clarity. For the first time in her career, she was at a complete loss during trial. Bennie always knew what to do in court; it was the life part that stumped her. And this was both. “Wait a minute, slow down. You don’t make a move like that so fast. I mean, I’ve never done that.”

“Review the case so far, then,” Judy said, and summarized the testimony witness by witness, her enthusiasm gathering momentum. When she was finished she sat convinced, waiting for the word from Bennie. “Well, Coach?”

Bennie sighed, tense. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. If we put up a case, the jury will forget about Harting and we’d give Hilliard the time to rehabilitate his case. And Guthrie the chance to torpedo me. Maybe we should take it to the jury.”

Mary, sitting between the two lawyers, looked from one to the other in amazement. “Are you two really considering not putting on a defense in a death penalty case ?”

The question, put so starkly and simply, set the issue in relief for all of them. They were silent for a moment, each left to her own thoughts, and conscience. “Be right back,” Bennie said abruptly, and got up.

“What did you do to Harting?” Bennie demanded.

Connolly scoffed on the other side of the bulletproof glass, in the gray suit she had worn for the second day in a row. “I didn’t do anything to Harting.”

“You got to her, I know you did. How did you do it?” Bennie leaned forward, bracing her hands on the skinny metal ledge between them. “Did you send Bullock to promise her the world? How did you keep him off the OV logs? Money buys guards, isn’t that what you said?”

“You’re outta your mind, Rosato.” Connolly sat straighter, annoyed. “Harting wouldn’t do jack shit for me. I killed her girlfriend, remember?”

“So why did she recant?”

“Why are you asking me?” Connolly threw her arms into the air. “How the fuck do I know? Why’d she make up the story in the first place?”

Bennie stopped short, then eyed the face that looked so much like her own. Why’d she make up the story in the first place ? Suddenly she realized how Connolly had gotten to Harting. “You didn’t get to her last night,” Bennie said, thinking aloud. “That’s why it didn’t show in the OV logs. You went to her after you killed Mendoza and Page. You made the deal before the trial. You had it rigged-the testimony and the recanting- from the beginning. ”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connolly said evenly. Her expression betrayed nothing, but Bennie didn’t need confirmation.

“You told Harting to come forward during the trial. You told her to call the D.A.’s office and offer herself up. You fed her enough information to make it credible to the jury and to me. You knew Hilliard would see a slam-dunk surprise witness. You knew when Harting recanted it would screw up the prosecution’s case.”

Connolly smirked. “Don’t try to guess how cons act, Rosato. You’re an amateur. Shetrell was trying to kill me, why would she make deals with me?”

“Because you made it more profitable to side with you than kill you. What did you offer her? A cheaper supply? You in business on the outside and her in business on the inside?”

Connolly’s eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck are you here? Shouldn’t you be working on my defense?”

“What defense? My associate thinks you don’t need one.”

“I agree,” Connolly said quickly, and her reaction clarified Bennie’s thoughts.

“Oh, really? Most defendants in a capital murder case would be shocked if their lawyer was considering not staging a defense. Something about lethal injections makes a defendant hedge his bets.”

“I’m not most defendants.”

“Yes, you are. You just anticipated that I’d think of it. You knew that when Harting recanted, we’d have a shot at taking it straight to the jury.”

Connolly laughed. “More than a shot. I watched the jury when Harting flipped. If you harp on it in your closing argument, I’ll get off.”