Judge & Jury - James Patterson [31]
There was silence between them for a few seconds.
“Guess what?” she said. “I spoke with the powers that be. They said you can come down here for the night next Tuesday—for your birthday. I hear there’s some pretty good Italian food out here in Jersey.”
That did the trick. Jarrod was over the moon. “Can I stay over?”
“Yep, Jar, I cleared that, too. They even said they’d ride you back to school in a police car in the morning.”
“That sounds great! I miss you, Mom.”
“Me too, Jarrod. I miss you more.” Andie moved the phone away a little and covered her mouth. She knew her voice was about to crack, and she didn’t want Jarrod to hear that.
I miss you more than you’ll ever know.
Chapter 33
WE BROUGHT IN three more strong witnesses on Friday and Monday. Each built up the case against Dominic Cavello; each dug the blade in deeper and deeper.
One was Thomas Mussina, the famous Tommy Moose, Ralphie D.’s boss. He was currently in the Witness Protection Program.
Mussina backed up everything that Machia and Ralphie had previously testified: that Cavello had given the direct order to murder Sam Greenblatt; that Tommy was actually driving him around, in his gray Lincoln, just blocks from the scene; that after they heard the shots and saw their guys speeding away, all Cavello did was wipe his hands and say, “So that’s done. How ’bout some eggs?”
Mussina also corroborated Denunziatta’s story about what happened to Stevie. He used the exact same words: “Stevie’s gotta go.”
Then he told the jury about a dancer, Gloria, who worked at a fancy strip club Cavello owned in Rockland County, New York. Gloria bragged to one of the other girls that she had squirreled away thirty thousand dollars in cash. Her “I-70 fund,” she called it. One day she was going to take her daughter and just drive west, start a new life.
Tommy Mussina told the jury, “When Mr. Cavello heard this he got mad as hell. He thought this chick was stealing from him. So he sent a couple of guys to her apartment. They screwed her, strangled her, and tossed the body in a Dumpster. Luckily the kid was at school.”
“They found the money?” Goldenberger asked.
“Yeah.” Mussina nodded. “Stuffed inside a suitcase in a closet. Thirty grand, just like Gloria had said. They brought it back to Mr. Cavello.”
“Why?”
“He wanted it.” Mussina shrugged. “He laughed, said, ‘What was once Caesar’s belongs to Caesar.’ I was there.”
Vintage Cavello. Coldhearted and unnecessary. Over-the-top cruel.
“So in the end,” the prosecutor said, shaking his head sadly, “did the money turn out to be stolen after all?”
“Nah. She saved it up just like she’d said. Mr. Cavello ended up giving it back to the family as a fund for Gloria’s kid. He got a good laugh out of that one. It was the girl’s own dough.”
Chapter 34
AFTER MUSSINA’S TESTIMONY, the jury members filed into the jury room for lunch. No one seemed particularly hungry. “You see that asshole sitting there?” Hector shook his head angrily. “He barely moves a muscle. Like he’s got the world under control. Even us.”
“Well, he won’t have it under control much longer if I have anything to do with it.” Rosella crossed herself. “God rest his soul. In hell.”
Andie sat down. She glanced at Marc. The writer was just leaning on the windowsill, staring out at lower Manhattan.
“That poor dancer. Some getaway fund, huh? I have a little boy. That could’ve been me at another time in my life,” Andie said.
Marc nodded sympathetically. “Which club was it you said you danced at?”
“Very funny.” Andie scrunched up her face. But at least the joke broke the tension. One by one, people began to smile and sit down. They passed out plates.
“After this is over we should all meet. I know this farm in the Poconos,” John O’Flynn said, piling cold cuts onto his bread.
Winston, the mechanic, laughed. “Yeah, just watch out for all the large mounds of dirt.”
Lorraine let one of her loud, high-pitched giggles go. That set everybody off. It was amazing that after all the grisly testimony they could just kick back and laugh.
“Lorraine,” Andie said,