Accused: A Rosato & Associates Novel (13 page)

“Here’s where you get off.” The corrections officer stopped outside three battered doors at the end of the room, painted a bizarre turquoise color, and unlocked the door. “Wait here and he’ll be brought down.”

Mary and Judy thanked her, and they squeezed into the attorney booth, which described exactly its size. It held only three old wooden chairs, and a small Formica shelf mounted in the corner. The air smelled close and dirty, like a hot box.

“Yikes,” Judy said, which just about summed it up.

Chapter Fifteen

Lonnie Stall was of average height, about five-ten with almond-shaped eyes, of a soft brown color. He wore his hair natural, shaved close to his head, and a brown jumpsuit, with dull yellow trim around its short sleeves. His arms were muscular, and his right biceps had a script tattoo that Mary couldn’t read, though she was sitting right across from him.

“My name is Mary DiNunzio, and this is my colleague Judy Carrier. We both work at Rosato & Associates, a law firm in town, and we were hired to look into this case by Allegra Gardner, the younger sister of Fiona.”

Lonnie nodded slowly. His brown eyes remained steady and his manner subdued. “Okay.”

“Allegra believes that you’re innocent of killing Fiona and we’ve been hired to investigate the crime.”

“I know that,” Lonnie said calmly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll show you.” Lonnie set a manila envelope on the counter and pulled out a piece of folded white paper. “That’s from Allegra Gardner.”

Mary opened the paper, and Judy leaned over to see a letter written in small, cramped handwriting, dated three years ago.

DEAR LONNIE, DON’T WORRY. I KNOW YOU ARE INNOCENT AND SOMEDAY I WILL GET YOU OUT OF JAIL. YOUR FRIEND, ALLEGRA GARDNER.

“That’s just one of the letters.”

Mary looked up, surprised. “There are more?”

“Yes. Plenty.”

“How many?”

“I’ll show you the first batch.” Lonnie pulled a thick packet of letters from the envelope, wrapped in a rubber band. “You can have them. I don’t want them. I stopped opening them after the first few years.”

“Years?” Mary asked, aghast.

“I probably have one hundred letters from that little girl.”

“What do they say?”

“The same thing, over and over again.” Lonnie shrugged. “She knows I’m innocent and when she gets some money, she’s going to get me out. She must’ve gotten her money, and here you are.”

Mary set the letters aside, trying to get back on track. “Do you have the other letters?”

“Sure, I saved some.” Lonnie glanced at the door, which was closed. “The guys in my block think they’re from a girlfriend, which isn’t the worst thing for my reputation.”

“May I have the other letters? I’ll send you a stamped envelope for them.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Mary caught Judy’s questioning eye and moved on. “To get to the point, you’re telling us you’re innocent of Fiona Gardner’s murder.”

“I am,” Lonnie answered, his tone genuine. “I didn’t kill Fiona. I’m completely innocent.”

“So why did you plead guilty?”

“Because I was going to get convicted and my lawyer told me it was a good deal and I should take it.”

“Did you know Fiona?”

“Not that well. Just to be polite, nod to her at the parties, s’up, that’s all.”

“You didn’t know her better than that?”

“No.” Lonnie shrugged again. “I worked for Cricket Catering, and they did the parties for the Gardner family. I worked for them nights and weekends while I was in high school and kept it up when I went to college. I was a freshman at Temple, working for my degree in business.”

“It’s our understanding that you had a romantic relationship with Fiona. Is that right?”

Lonnie frowned. “No. Not at all.”

Mary scanned his face, trying to see if he was telling the truth, but she couldn’t tell. “Did you meet Fiona when she was babysitting Allegra?”

“No.”

“You didn’t hug and kiss Fiona?”

“No.”

“You didn’t have a relationship at all?”

“No.”

“That’s the main reason Allegra thinks you didn’t kill her sister. What do you have to say to that?”

“I never was alone with Fiona when she was babysitting, or any other time.”

Mary couldn’t figure out how to reconcile the conflicting information from Allegra and her father. “You really never did that?”

“No, I never did.”

“You weren’t in love with Fiona?”

“No.”

Mary avoided Judy’s eye. She didn’t want to conclude that Allegra was delusional. “I read your testimony at trial, but could you just tell me what happened the night Fiona was murdered?”

“What’s the difference?” Lonnie’s tone was flat, without affect. “It’s not going to get me free. Nothing’s going to get me free.”

“Just tell me what happened that night.”

“It’s like I said at trial. I was working the party, serving. I was walking past the back stair when I heard a shout, faint, so I ran upstairs.”

“Let me stop you there. What did the noise sound like?”

“Like a woman’s shout. Not a scream, but a shout.”

“Why didn’t you ignore it?”

“I just reacted. I thought I could help.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I was right there, walking past the stairwell, so I just reacted. I figured somebody maybe got lost and fell, so I handled it.”

“What happened then?”

“I went down the hall and the door was open. I saw Fiona lying on her back, on the floor, next to the table. I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was blood in the center of her shirt, she had on a white shirt, and I didn’t understand.”

“What didn’t you understand?”

“It was like there was a wound, but I couldn’t see what made the wound, and I went over to her and put my hand in the shirt with the blood. I guess I was just feeling for what caused it, like what was it?”

Mary could visualize it. She would have done the same thing.

“I got blood on me, that came out later at the trial, but I didn’t notice. I wasn’t worried about it, I was thinking about her.” Lonnie’s cadence quickened, though he told the story without the drama it deserved. “I put my head to her mouth, like my ear, to see if she was breathing. I couldn’t hear anything, so I pressed on her chest and tried to give her mouth-to-mouth, but it didn’t work. Then I started to think, I got to get out of here. This doesn’t look good, not for me. So I ran out.”

“Why didn’t you yell or call for help?”

“I don’t know. I was just dealing with it.”

“You didn’t make any noise when you saw her? Like a scream?”

“I’m a man.” Lonnie smiled slightly.

Mary didn’t understand something. “What was Fiona doing up there anyway?”

“I know the family was up and down during the night, and they took some VIPs up there, to show off the offices.”

“Then, when you saw you couldn’t deal with it, why didn’t you run and tell your boss, or any of the guests or even security?”

“I don’t know. I should have, but I panicked. I felt like I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like I should’nt’ve gone into the small conference room, I didn’t belong up there.” Lonnie’s gaze shifted somewhere on the scuffed and dingy wall. “I used to think about it over and over, when I first got here. Why didn’t I just keep walking down the hall? I should’ve just kept going.”

“Tell me about the cut on your hand.”

“I cut it when chef asked me to cut a lime, because we ran out. Anyway, somehow the blood from my cut got on her. I didn’t cut it stabbing her, like they said. I didn’t stab her.”

“They never found the murder weapon but they think it was a common knife. At trial they think you got it from the kitchen.”

“I didn’t take any knife from the kitchen. Chef testified that none of his knives were missing, but he didn’t know what knives were in the kitchen when we got there. Chef keeps an eye on his own knives, because they’re expensive.”

Mary made a note. “Let me ask you this. What do you think happened that night?”

“I think somebody stabbed Fiona and got out through the other stairway, door, just before I came in and found her.”

Mary brightened, glancing at Judy. “So there’s another stairway to the floor?”

“Yes, there’s two. One was in the reception area and they had a velvet rope on that. But the one I used was near the cafeteria. No guests went back there but us.”

Mary took rapid notes. “Do they have a sign-in at the door, like with security?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you mention any of that to your lawyer?”

Lonnie frowned, scratching his head. “I think so, but I don’t know what he found out. He wasn’t really looking at who did the murder, just trying to show that I didn’t.”

Mary thought back to his trial lawyer’s opening argument. “His basic defense was that they had no murder weapon and no proof of motive by you.”

“Right.”

“But the prosecutor suggested it was a sexual assault that turned deadly when Fiona said no.”

“That didn’t happen.”

Judy gestured to get Lonnie’s attention. “Who was the security company that night? Do you remember, was it in-house or did they contract that out?”

“I don’t know. We used the delivery entrances at the loading dock, and we set up in the kitchen, like the company dining room.”

“Did you notice anything or anyone unusual around Fiona that night?”

“No, I wouldn’t know. I was working.”

“Did you see Fiona that night, before you found her on the floor?”

“Yes.”

“Did you talk to her?” Judy asked, jumping in.

“No, just smiled, and she smiled back.”

“Do you know if she had a date that night?”

“No idea.”

“Do you remember who you saw her with?”

“No.”

“Does the name Tim Gage mean anything to you?”

“No.”

Judy looked over at Mary. “Okay, back to you.”

Mary nodded, turning to Lonnie. “How well did you know John and Jane Gardner?”

“Not very well. My boss dealt with the clients.”

Mary thought about the Gardners’ house. “They entertained at that house out in Townsend?”

Lonnie thought a minute. “Yes, sure.”

“So you were out there, working at their parties?”

“Yes.”

“How many times?”

“About ten.”

Mary made a note. “Did you meet anybody from the Gardner companies?”

“Not really met them, but I saw them. I knew some of their names. I don’t remember them anymore.”

“Did you have a criminal record before this?”

“No.”

“Any drug or drinking problems?”

“No.”

“Where did you go to high school?”

“University City High.”

“Do you have any sisters or brothers?”

“No.”

“Are your mother and father alive?”

“My mother is, my father isn’t.”

“What’s your mother’s name?”

“What difference does that make?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Rita.”

“Rita Stall?”

“No, Henley. Gerold Henley was my stepfather, he died when I was in high school. Don’t know where my real father is. Never met the man. I was an infant when he left. Gerold raised me. Worked for the post office.”

“Where does she live, your mother?”

“West Philly.”

Mary tried another tack. “Tell us about your lawyer. How did you find him? How did you pay for him? Why did you use him and not a public defender?”

“I still don’t see why this matters.”

“I’m interested in your view of his competence, so that we can see if there’s grounds for collateral attack on your conviction, like for ineffective assistance of counsel.”

Lonnie pursed his lips. “Okay, his name is Bob Brandt. I had some money and so did my mom, and we figured we had a better shot with a private lawyer instead of the public defender.”

“Do you think Brandt did a good job?”

“He did his best.”

“How frequently did he meet with you? Did he meet with you enough?”

“He met with me whenever I wanted.”

“Did he explain his defense to you?”

“Yes.” Lonnie nodded.

“And he told you to take the deal?”

“Yes, right away, but I didn’t in the beginning. I knew I was innocent and I wanted my chance to say it in court. That’s why I got on the stand. I was going on the truth, but he thought the jury wasn’t going my way and the D.A.’s case was going good, so I took the deal in the end.”

Mary felt any appellate argument slipping away. “Did your lawyer advise you that it was risky for a defendant, even an innocent man, to take the stand in his own defense?”

“Yes, he did. He told me that the prosecutor was going to tussle with me. He told me to tell the truth and only answer the questions they asked me. I was the one who messed up on the stand, I got flustered.” Lonnie pursed his lips. “But I also knew that if I didn’t testify, I had no case at all.”

“Why didn’t you appeal?”

“We ran out of money. I had no grounds.”

“Is there any reason you can think of that would give you grounds for a collateral appeal?”

“No.” Lonnie shook his head. “If I did, I would’ve tried to file one. I spend a lot of time in the prison library and I’m pretty good with the law books.”

“Do you have any other information at all about that night that you can tell us?”

“No.”

Mary couldn’t hide her frustration. “It’s like you’ve given up.”

Lonnie shrugged, yet again. “I don’t think of it that way. I think of it like, I accept what happened. I’m here now, and this is where I live. I made a life for myself here.”

“How?”

“I do my job in the garment shop here, I make uniforms, boots for Correctional Industries. They pay bonuses. Everybody on B-block wants that job, I was lucky to get it. Most of the guys in the garment shop are lifers, they got hundreds of lifers here, and there’s no job opening in the shop unless they die.” Lonnie permitted himself a chuckle. “Also I take courses, trying to get enough for my college degree. I study, read, work out.”

“Do you have friends here?”

“Some, I stay out of gangs, out of trouble.”

“Don’t you get lonely?”