"Staring into the waves," said Powell. "He looked sad."
"Did you know who he was?"
"No, but I recognized him as the man who had parked my car. Then, of course, I saw his picture in the paper."
"What happened that night? Tell us exactly what you saw."
"I smoked a cigarette and started to head back. But as I did, I heard a splash and turned to see Peter Mullen swimming through the waves."
"Did that strike you as unusual?"
"Oh, absolutely. Not only because of the size of the waves, but also how cold the water was. I had stuck my toe in and was shocked."
So was I. This woman, whoever she was, was lying her ass off. I leaned toward Nadia Alper and whispered a quick message.
When Montrose finished, Alper got up to question Powell.
"How is it that you know Barry Neubauer?" she asked.
"We're colleagues," she said, cool as could be. I wanted to go up there and slap her.
"You're also in the toy business, Ms. Powell?"
"I work in the Promotions Department at Mayflower Enterprises."
"In other words, you work for Barry Neubauer."
"I like to think we're friends, too."
"I'm sure you will be now," said Nadia Alper.
The derisive laughter in the gym was cut off by a sharp reprimand from Lillian. "I trust, Ms. Alper, that I will not have to ask you again to refrain from editorial asides."
She turned back to the witness. "I have a list here of everyone who was invited to the party that evening. Your name isn't on that list, Ms. Powell. Any idea why?"
"I met Mr. Neubauer at a meeting a couple of days before. He was kind enough to invite me."
"I see, and what time did you arrive?" asked Nadia.
"Unfashionably early, I confess. Seven o'clock, maybe five after at the latest. With all the celebrities, I didn't want to miss a minute."
"And it was Peter Mullen who parked your car?"
"Yes."
"You're absolutely positive, Ms. Powell?"
"Positive. He was… memorable."
Alper went to her desk, grabbed a folder, and approached the bench. "I would like to submit to the court written statements from three of Peter Mullen's coworkers that evening. They state that the deceased got to work at least forty minutes late. Therefore, it was impossible for him to have parked Ms. Powell's or anyone else's car before seven-forty."
The crowd stirred again. The whispers got louder. People were clearly angry. "Do you have any explanation for this discrepancy, Ms. Powell?" asked the judge.
"I thought he parked my car, Your Honor. I suppose it's possible I saw him at some other point in the party. He was very good looking. Maybe that's why his face stuck out in my mind."
There was so much commotion as Nadia Alper returned to her seat that Lillian had to bang his gavel and ask for quiet again.
"Alper's got some brass," said Mack in my ear. "I'd score that round a draw."
Chapter 57
THIS WAS EXCRUCIATING.
I wanted to be the one handling the cross-examination, objecting to Bill Montrose's every sentence, his blasé attitude, even his goddamned blue cashmere blazer and gunmetal gray slacks. He looked as though he was on his way to the Bath Tennis Club as soon as this trifling matter was finished.
Montrose's next witness was Dr. Ishier Jacobson, who had quit his position as Los Angeles County coroner a decade ago when he realized he could do five times as well as an expert witness.
"Dr. Jacobson, how long did you serve as chief pathologist at Cook Claremont Hospital in Los Angeles?"
"Twenty-one years, sir."
"And in that time, Doctor, approximately how many drowning victims were you called upon to examine?"
"A great many, I'm sorry to say. Los Angeles-area beaches are extremely active and crowded with surfers. In my tenure, I looked into over two hundred drownings."
Montrose gleamed up at Judge Lillian, then back at Dr. Jacobson.
"So it is no exaggeration to say that this is an area in which you have an exceptional level of expertise."
"I believe I've examined more drowning victims than any active pathologist in the United States."
"And what were your conclusions concerning the death of Peter Mullen?"
"First of all, that he drowned. Second, that his death was either an accident or a suicide."
It's not as if I didn't know how easily expert testimony can be purchased. If the client can afford to, he can always fly in a second opinion to forcefully contradict whatever the prosecution is putting out. The injuncture, the lawyer's artifice, just seems a little different when the murder victim is your brother.
"How do you explain the condition of the body, Dr. Jacob-son? Pictures taken of the deceased after he washed ashore indicate that he was badly bruised and there's been speculation that he was beaten."
"As you know, a storm was passing through the Hamptons that weekend. In that kind of surf, a badly bruised corpse is the rule, not the exception. I've examined dozens of drowning victims where foul play was never a question. Believe me, they looked at least as battered as Peter Mullen did that night. Some were worse."
"That's total bullshit," said Hank, leaning over the back of our seats. "This guy is sickening. Bought and paid for."
Montrose continued with the charade. He was sickening, too. "As you know, I asked you to bring some pictures of previous victims to illustrate this point. Could you share these with the court, Dr. Jacobson?"
Jacobson held up two pictures, and Montrose, as if he hadn't seen them before, winced. "Both of the surfers were approximately the same age as Mr. Mullen," he said. "As you can see they are almost as badly bruised as Mr. Mullen, and as I recall, the conditions were not nearly as severe."
Montrose carried the photographs to the judge, who placed them beside the statement he had received from Alper.
"Is there anything else you found in the records that could shed light on his tragic death?" asked Monty.
Jacobson nodded. "The autopsy revealed significant traces of marijuana in his bloodstream, as if he had inhaled one or maybe two marijuana cigarettes shortly before entering the water."
"Your Honor," interrupted Alper, "this shameless effort to taint the reputation of the victim has been going on since he died. When does it stop?"
"Please, Ms. Alper," said the judge, "sit down and wait your turn."
"Why might this marijuana be relevant, Dr. Jacobson?" asked Montrose.
"Recent studies have shown that immediately after using marijuana, the risk of heart failure increases dramatically. Add to that a water temperature in the low fifties, and it becomes a real possibility. I believe that's exactly what happened here."
"Thank you, Dr. Jacobson. I have no further questions."
Chapter 58
THIS WHOLE THING was suddenly too much for me to take. If I had been the DA, I would have cross-examined Dr. Jacobson until he was bleeding from every orifice. I would have asked him to tell the court how many days of expert testimony he had billed Nelson, Goodwin and Mickel in the past five years (forty-eight), what his daily rate ($7,500) and per diem ($300) were, and to name his favorite restaurant in New York (Gotham Bar Grill, most expensive entree, veal esplanade, $48).
To belabor the point, I'd ask if those forty-eight days qualified him for Nelson, Goodwin and Mickel's pension plan (no), if he got to keep his bonus miles (also no), and if he had ever delivered an expert opinion other than the ones he was paid for (of course not).
Nadia Alper chose not to pursue this hard line of questioning. Maybe she assumed that Lillian would have cut her off. Perhaps she thought that the sooner we got our own expert on the stand, the better. Whatever the reasons, the gym swelled with righteous indignation when she called Dr. Jane Davis to the stand.
At last we were going to listen to testimony that hadn't been bought, and Montauk would hear from one of its own. This was why we had come to this inquest – to hear the truth for a change.