Elizabeth Street - Laurie Fabiano [62]
From the workers he was able to track down and interview, he knew that they would probably have to be treated as hostile witnesses because they were so afraid. If Signore DeCegli ever had any doubt about whether this was a case of negligence, it was erased when he saw the fear that had been instilled in these men, and when he learned that his key witness had conveniently disappeared. It was rare that a man of the supervisor’s stature could disappear without a trace. Even if Mulligan had left one afternoon months after the accident, never to return, as Taylor, Wood & Co. attested, it was clear the company had no interest in finding him or the files he supposedly stole. DeCegli’s case was further encumbered by the fact that the murder weapon, the steel floor that had crushed Nunzio Pontillo, was now covered in thousands of cubic yards of gas and would never be seen again until the tanks were demolished during someone else’s lifetime.
The greatest difficulty, however, was that without the qualified testimony of respected engineers, all the evidence was circumstantial. But the money to pay for expert testimony was only part of the problem. Signore DeCegli had approached a number of engineers on a speculative basis, and while they used the excuse of no payment upfront to turn down the job, the lawyer knew it was more likely because they were unwilling to go up against a giant. All of his testimony was from Italian laborers. Could he expect the same system that didn’t value their lives to believe their testimony?
DeCegli was tempted to close the case but knew that if he did, the signora would somehow continue it on her own. That thought frightened him for two reasons: First, he had grown fond of the signora and feared for her safety, and second, given her determination and intelligence, she could possibly humiliate him by succeeding.
After reviewing the affidavit that Giovanna had compiled for the tenth time, Signore DeCegli saw something in “Pretty Boy” Mariano’s story that ignited a spark. If they couldn’t afford their own expert witnesses, they would use the experts at Taylor, Wood & Co.
James Wood, one of the principals of the company, was a former engineer known for his brash style and his ability to “get them up faster than anybody.” Brooklyn Union Gas awarded Taylor, Wood the contract because they were under pressure to meet the demand for gas in the burgeoning city. DeCegli felt certain that it had been Wood on the phone with Mulligan that day.
James Wood walked up the five flights to Signore DeCegli’s office in disgust. Not only was he furious that he had been summoned to New York in this preposterous matter, he was resentful that he was forced to pay the high hourly rates of the lawyer who huffed and puffed behind him. Answering the rap on the door, DeCegli welcomed them in. Heads rotating, disgust palpable, the men sat without being asked. The court reporter was not introduced and remained a fixture in the corner chair.
“Let’s get on with this, shall we?” pronounced Wood, by way of introduction.
Seeing Wood’s irritation and revulsion, DeCegli realized he had the upper hand and decided to lengthen the proceedings as much as possible in hopes of getting Wood to say something in anger that he would later regret.
DeCegli drew out the perfunctory questions. But when he saw the relish Wood took in reciting his credentials and that he was gaining