Fighting Chance(38)

The courtroom they were entering was one of the modern ones, with the judge’s bench backed by a flat wooden wall with symbols on it meant to stand in for the old formalities of a court. Gregor preferred the old Depression-era stone-and-solemnity architecture, the kind Bennis called “socialist humorlessness.” They might be humorless, but they gave the impression that somebody was taking the law seriously.

The spectator’s seats in the courtroom were not packed, but they weren’t empty, either. People sat scattered, but in little clumps. There was a clutch of young men who looked both belligerent and already defeated. There was an elderly African American couple holding on to each other, the woman crying soundlessly with her head against the man’s breast.

There was also Bennis, and Donna, and Lida Arkmanian.

“I think we should be over there,” Gregor said, pointing to the three women. Bennis looked as belligerent as the clutch of young men, but not in any way defeated.

George Edelson let Gregor lead him to a pair of seats just behind the women.

“John had half the office going at it all last night,” George said. “Scalafini has been passing out jobs to relatives like they were candy. Nobody was doing any actual work that we can see. And he’s got to have somebody on the inside in human resources, and we haven’t found that person yet. And the worst thing is, if this hadn’t come up, we might never have found it. No, that’s not true. Something as bad as this was going to come up sometime. John’s ready to take his chances on justifiable homicide.”

“So,” Gregor said, “does that mean there aren’t any usable pictures from the security cameras? We can’t tell who was or wasn’t in the hall?”

“We’ve got some blurry stuff. Sometimes the spray job was a little out of whack. She was a short woman and her aim wasn’t always accurate. But she was doing it time after time. She wasn’t even really checking to see if they’d been cleaned. She just brought the can and zapped them. But there’s blurry stuff. We’ll give you a copy of all that we have. And then there’s the hall that leads to the hall. The last camera there was spray-painted, but none of the ones leading to the foyer was, so we’ve got all of that clear.”

“But that’s good,” Gregor said. “We’ve got something then, we know who went into the hall that would at least lead him to the murder scene.”

“Not exactly,” George Edelson said. “At the end of that hall is where the restrooms are. Everybody and his brother went down that hall. And the usable footage stops just before you can tell who was going into the restrooms and who was making the turn into the next corridor.”

“And I take it very few people didn’t go down that hall,” Gregor said.

“Half the population of Philadelphia went down that corridor,” George Edelson said.

All three of the women had turned around. They were waiting patiently for the conversation to be over. Lida Arkmanian was not going to be patient much longer.

Gregor made the introductions.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Bennis said to George Edelson in her best Main Line debutante voice. Then she turned to Gregor. “Do not get started,” she said. “It’s a public hearing. Donna called Russ and asked about it. If it’s a public hearing, we can be here.”

“It’s very important to let him know he has our support,” Lida said. “Even if he thinks he doesn’t want it. Even if, even if he did something—” She started to tear up.

Donna patted her on the shoulder. “He hasn’t done anything,” Donna said firmly, “except somehow get himself involved in a mess somebody else created. Just you wait. Gregor will figure it all out.”

“It’s definitely a public hearing, and I’m not in the least upset that the three of you are here,” Gregor said. “If I’d thought of it, I’d have had you bring half the membership of the church. I’m for putting as much pressure on him as possible. He’s going to have to start talking to somebody sometime. It would be better sooner rather than later.”

The big swinging double doors at the back of the courtroom opened, and after a bit of shuffling Tibor came in, handcuffed and shackled, dressed in a jail uniform, and flanked by two guards. Gregor saw Bennis tear up and then push the tears back by sheer force of will.

“I thought they didn’t allow that anymore,” she said. “I thought the Supreme Court said the defendant had to be in ordinary clothes.”

“That’s for the jury trial,” George Edelson said helpfully. “The court was afraid that prison clothes would prejudice the jury. They’re prejudiced enough as it is, if you ask me.”