“Because I’m asking you!” Corbin blurted out, surprising both Penny and himself. “Wow, I’m sorry. I’ve been dealing with some difficult people all week. That has me on edge. I didn’t mean that. I really didn’t.”
Penny kept looking at the table.
“I really am sorry,” he repeated. “Forgive me?”
“Is that why you didn’t return my calls all week?”
“Yes. I’m sorry about that. I just got so carried away with everything going on. I literally never had a moment to myself.”
“You’ll call Blue?”
“Yes, I’ll call Blue. I swear.”
Penny seemed placated, but for the first time they ran out of things to talk about.
Chapter 29
Corbin returned to Philadelphia the day before the hearing. It was 11:30 in the morning. Beckett was on the phone trying to track down witnesses. Ever since he bombed Corbin’s cross examination, Beaumont had started oozing helpfulness; witnesses were his latest offering. Corbin knew Beckett would be tied up for at least an hour. This presented him with the chance he had been waiting for to search Beckett’s hotel.
To make sure Beckett wouldn’t leave the office, Corbin asked Beckett to watch for a fax they were expecting from Judge Sutherlin’s clerk, regarding their first scheduled hearing. He told Beckett the fax would contain the hearing date and time and might need an immediate reply. In truth, the fax was already safely hidden in Corbin’s briefcase. Corbin then excused himself, ostensibly to get some lunch.
As he stepped into the Tribune Building elevator, Corbin double-checked his pocket to make sure he had the electronic keycard which would let him into Beckett’s hotel room. Corbin took the key earlier from Beckett’s desk when Beckett visited the restroom. The name and address of the hotel and Beckett’s room number were on the paper sleeve in which the card rested.
The hotel was six blocks away. Corbin jogged most of the way. As he entered the hotel, he walked right past the front desk without stopping. The clerk hardly noticed him. When he reached room 214, Corbin inserted the key. It clicked. Corbin entered the room. Beckett’s personal effects were spread everywhere. Corbin searched everything, even between the mattresses, but found no wallet and no stacks of cash. After replacing everything the way he found it, Corbin made his way to the parking garage. He knew Beckett’s car, as he’d been in it many times. He also knew the driver-side door lock was broken, so he didn’t need to smash a window. His search came up empty.
An annoyed Corbin returned to the office, where he found Beckett watching television in the conference room.
“Guess what?” Beckett pointed to the television.
Eddie Pierce, the District Attorney, was on television talking about Beaumont’s case. Behind him stood the grim Hillary Morales. “Yes, this is part of our zero-tolerance policy,” Pierce said. He had the manner of a circus ringmaster with the permanent smile of a car salesman. “I’m determined to get these criminals off our streets no matter what it takes. If that means taking them down for less serious crimes, that’s fine by me. Every day someone like Mr. Beaumont is off the streets, the safer our community will be. It worked with Al Capone, it will work here. Sometimes the tried and true methods are the best.”
“Could you give us some background on Beaumont,” asked one of the reporters.
“Certainly, Beaumont’s been implicated in a series of crimes in the past. He’s the sole suspect in a double homicide that occurred two years ago, though he could not be prosecuted when the witness against him turned up beaten to death in the river.”
“Do you have enough evidence to convict him on this new charge?” asked another reporter.
“That’s up to the jury. All I can say is I’m confident of our case.”
“How long would he serve?”
“If convicted of all charges, he could serve up to seventy-five years.”
“‘Seventy-five years!” Corbin exclaimed.
“Yeah, they added a bunch of charges,” Beckett said, pointing to a package which had been delivered by courier only a few minutes before. “See what you can come up with to dismiss some of these charges or suppress the evidence. I’ve got a couple ideas already.”
“I’ll add that to the list,” Corbin said bitterly.
Beckett turned off the television. “Let’s split up the videos. There’s a lot of footage there and we should check it all.” Beckett pointed at a box containing half a dozen bank surveillance video cassettes. These were delivered by the same courier. “Verify the notes they gave us about what’s supposed to be on the tapes and look for anything suspicious.”
Corbin took two of the tapes. “I hope these have a better plot than the first tape.”
“What’d they want?!” Sgt. Warner Russell demanded, accosting his former partner the moment Webb stepped into the police station.
“Who?” Webb asked, pushing past Russell.
“Beaumont’s attorney!” Russell grabbed Webb’s arm to stop him.
Webb shook Russell’s hand from his arm. “How would I know?”
“You met with ’em,” Russell said in a low, accusing voice.
“I haven’t met with anybody.”
“Don’t give me that shit! They wanted to meet with you, and now they ain’t asking to meet with you’se no more. That means you met with ’em.”
“No, it doesn’t, and no, I didn’t.”
“Don’t fuck with me, rookie,” Russell barked. “I got a right to know what they wanted.”
“You’ve got a ‘right’?”
“Yeah, I got a right ’cause my ass is in the sling on this one, and don’t you forget, your ass is first in line. You signed that report, so you better be straight with me if you want this thing to go away.”
“Why, Russ? Are you gonna turn me in?” he laughed.
Russell snapped his head around quickly to see who might be listening. “Keep your damn voice down. All I’m saying,” he was whispering now, “is your name is on that report. If you want to keep this from blowin’ up on you, we gotta stick together.”
“Uh huh, sure.” Webb ran his tongue over his lips. “I called Beaumont’s lawyer and told him I had nothing to say. What about you? What did you tell him?”
“They never asked to talk to me.”
Webb raised an eyebrow, but didn’t follow up. “All right, let me know if that changes,” he said and walked away.
Russell watched him leave. “Fucker,” he said under his breath.
Corbin pointed to the television screen. They were watching the surveillance video from First Regional. “Here it comes. There, see it. . the guy in the red shirt.”
“That’s not Beaumont,” Beckett agreed.
“No, not even close. But that’s who they’ve identified as Beaumont. The time code corresponds with the transaction Beaumont supposedly made, and I’ve looked at every frame of the video, frame by frame, for two hours in either direction. This is the only guy it could be. He’s even wearing the red shirt the teller mentions in her statement.” Corbin chose not to mention that Alvarez could be seen standing slightly behind the man in the red shirt in the video.
“You’re sure Beaumont isn’t anywhere else on the tape?”
“Absolutely. I’ve seen every frame of it. Same thing with the Penn Bancorp tape. I don’t see anything that looks like Beaumont.”
“Is this all they gave us? No other surveillance tapes? No ATM videos? There should be dozens of those.”
“These are the only tapes they’ve given us. My guess is they stopped asking for tapes when Beaumont didn’t show up on the tapes they had.” Corbin handed Beckett some papers. “I’ve got a request for the prosecutor to identify everywhere they looked for tapes. I’ve also started working on some motions. I’ve got a motion to suppress the manager’s testimony because she didn’t identify Beaumont until after they showed her a photo of Beaumont. That’s an illegal line up. I’ve got some motions about the tapes and one about the gun. I don’t know how you want to handle the teller, the one who identifies Beaumont as the guy in the red shirt? She’s clearly wrong about it being Beaumont, but that’s not a legal reason to keep her testimony out.”