All Day and a Night (15 page)

Max’s words gave Ellie an idea about how to process the evidence against Amaro. She looked down at her notes with the names of Amaro’s victims and the approximate dates of death.

Linda Moreland was out of her seat before Max finished his last sentence. “With all due respect, Your Honor, the district attorney’s office wants it both ways. They want to say they are doing their best to find Helen Brunswick’s killer and to ensure that they convicted the right person of murdering Deborah Garner. But when they take a step in the direction of accomplishing both goals—retesting the available physical evidence against my client—and get an answer they don’t like, they want to explain it away. Instead of calling themselves a ‘fresh look’ team, it’s more like the ‘don’t look’ team. Frankly, it’s disgusting.”

“That’s a strong term, Counsel.”

“And I don’t use it lightly, Your Honor. But please try to see it from my perspective. Anthony Amaro will not be the first innocent person to be exonerated. And I do believe that this new evidence exonerates him. There is a clear pattern in all these cases. We take the most compelling evidence against our clients and prove—absolutely
prove
—that it’s flawed, and prosecutors simply wave it away and say, ‘Well, that’s never what mattered. What we
really
have is this.’ And in this case, they don’t
really
have anything. The identification was from a single eyewitness under unreliable conditions. Flawed eyewitness testimony has been a contributing factor in seventy-five percent of wrongful convictions. The so-called confession? It’s from a detective who fancifully claims that suspect after suspect just happened to use the exact same language to implicate themselves. And the guilty plea? Anthony Amaro was terrified the state was going to execute him based on a coerced confession and a serial pattern that does not withstand scrutiny now that we have DNA evidence. Any sane person would have done the same thing to save his own life.”

Next to Ellie in the first row of observer seats behind Max, Rogan was shaking his head in disagreement. Ellie leaned forward and whispered to Max. “Take out Donna. If she’s the one who’s different, the pattern’s more consistent.”

But Ellie wasn’t the only one vying for Max’s attention. “And what do you have to say, Mr. Donovan, about the similarity among all of these confessions supposedly obtained by Detective Majors?” the judge asked. “‘You got it right’ and ‘That’s how it happened’ and ‘I didn’t mean to do it.’ Those three identical phrases appear in two-thirds of the confessions that Ms. Moreland has been able to compile. How does the state explain that?”

Max was on his feet now. “Again, Your Honor, this is the first we’ve heard from Ms. Moreland about any pattern to confessions obtained by the investigating detective. I know, however, that Detective Majors was a highly respected investigator, so much so that the department routinely asked him to give training to his peers regarding interrogations.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Moreland quipped.

Max ignored the dig. “What triggered this expedited hearing was the finding of new DNA evidence on Donna Blank—a woman killed in Utica—which has nothing to do with the fact that Mr. Amaro pled guilty to the murder of Deborah Garner. There are no facts in evidence to suggest that the Utica killings played a material role in Amaro’s own admissions of guilt.”

“Oh, come on now.” Judge Johnsen was peering over her glasses at Max. “I happen to remember this case. It may not be in the formal record, but anyone who was paying attention knows that Amaro was one of the first death penalty targets in large part because he was believed to be responsible for other killings in Utica, including Donna Blank’s. How am I supposed to ignore the fact that DNA evidence now suggests another culpable party in her death?”

Ellie was frantically scribbling as Max responded to the judge’s question.

“All the victims were prostitutes. They all would have had frequent encounters with multiple men. It’s not surprising that one of them would have trace evidence from another man on her person.” Ellie looked at Carrie Blank, sitting quietly next to Linda Moreland. This was Donna’s sister—or half sister. How did it feel to have her discussed so impersonally? “We are doing what is right,” Max continued. “Obviously, we asked for retesting of the physical evidence. We have two highly regarded detectives acting as a fresh-look team, detectives who had nothing to do with the original investigation.”

Linda Moreland scoffed. “I wasn’t going to bring this up, Judge, but, yes, they are oh so very neutral. Detective Hatcher
lives
with ADA Donovan.”

Ellie was holding her notepad across the wood railing that separated her from Max.

       
Donna Blank—only one with non-matching DNA. No proven prostitution ties. Only wrists were broken. She’s the outlier. Deborah Garner part of consistent pattern
.

But Max was too busy trying to hold up his part of an argument he was suddenly losing. “Your Honor, I am also part of the fresh-look team. I was barely out of high school when Mr. Amaro was convicted. The fact that defense counsel would even raise my relationship with Detective Hatcher shows that she is seeking to obfuscate—”

Judge Johnsen held up a palm. “Enough. If nothing else, the use of the word
obfuscate
shows that I’ve heard enough.”

Ellie wrote yet another note and tried again to get Max’s attention.

       
Have witness from Utica. Says Donna Blank
wasn’t
a working girl
.

The squeak of a door interrupted Judge Johnsen’s comments, and Ellie turned to see the district attorney, Martin Overton, entering. Well over six feet tall, he had the good looks of a television anchor, with a strong chin and full head of dark-blond hair starting to grey at the temples.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Judge Johnsen. I want to make clear—both to you and to the community—that I am personally committed to seeing that my office does everything and anything to be thorough and transparent in every investigation. As I’ve always said, ‘Better that six guilty men go free than one innocent man be imprisoned.’”

Ellie was pretty sure that the quote was either from William Blackstone or Benjamin Franklin and involved some other mathematical ratio. Regardless of the specifics, she was quite certain someone else had made the point long before Martin Overton had run for New York County District Attorney. He’d squeaked by in a contested race after the retirement of the longest-serving DA in the county’s history.

Ellie tried one more time, this time speaking aloud to get Max’s attention. “We have a witness. A former working girl in Utica. She says Donna isn’t like the others.”

She felt Rogan pulling her shoulder from behind. She turned, and he dragged a finger across his throat, signaling for her to knock it off. “Shh. Moreland is making us
those cops
.”

Then Ellie saw the problem. Any facts offered for the first time this morning would only serve to fuel Linda Moreland’s narrative about self-serving cops who fabricated evidence whenever convenient. And she could tell from Judge Johnsen’s demeanor that she might be ready to rule.

“Look, what I keep coming back to is that District Attorney Overton wouldn’t have ordered the testing of the physical evidence unless he thought it was important.”
No
!, Ellie wanted to scream, Overton only ordered the testing because he was terrified of a primary challenge two years from now from a candidate on his left. “Quite frankly, I’d like to praise Mr. Overton for his clear commitment to neutrality and transparency.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Overton said. “And I know that ADA Donovan shares that commitment.” Overton placed an approving hand on Max’s shoulder. Ellie noticed Rogan look away.

“So here’s what I’m going to do,” Judge Johnsen announced. “Your fresh-look team has until Friday.” Ellie could see that the judge was looking to Overton for an objection. Nothing. She continued her ruling. “Find something that changes the evidentiary picture and we’ll talk. But otherwise—if you don’t come up with more—I’m going to release Mr. Amaro, and prosecutors in Utica can decide whether to indict him for the killings he was never charged with. I’d say that eighteen years in prison with the questionable evidence you have is quite enough.”

Ellie watched as Carrie Blank and the bow-tied male trailed behind Linda Moreland, who actually shook Martin Overton’s hand as they departed the courtroom together. Ellie, Rogan, and Max followed in silence.

Three days. That’s all they had.

R
ogan was the first to break the silence. “What the hell just happened in there? It’s like your boss was doing Moreland’s job for her.”

Max leaned his head back against his office chair and pressed his eyes closed. “I get it, Rogan. You’re pissed. And you think I dragged you two into this for the wrong reasons. But Overton’s trying to do the right thing. There’s more than three hundred exoneration cases across the country now, and single-witness IDs are a major contributor.”

“There’s a damn confession, Donovan.”

“You heard those excerpts in court; you’re not troubled by the similarities in all of Buck Majors’ confessions? The new DNA’s not our only problem. I’m seeing red flags everywhere.”

“Whose side are you on, man?”

Ellie had seen Rogan unleash on prosecutors before, but never Max.

“There are no sides, Rogan. Maybe you’re the one who’s got blinders on here. Ellie told me you’ve got a personal beef with Linda Moreland.”

Rogan flashed a sharp look in her direction, but then returned his attention to Max. “This isn’t about personal beefs. Amaro murdered six people. For
us
, Donovan, our work is about those dead women, not climbing one more rung on the DA ladder.”

“Whoa, whoa.” She formed a capital T with her hands. “We’re wasting time we don’t have. You’re both right. If Amaro’s guilty, he needs to stay inside . . . forever. And if he’s not, we need to fix it. We have until the end of the week to get answers. We need a plan. And whether we like it or not, Rogan, technically we’re working for Max right now.”

Rogan wasn’t pacified, but at least he had stopped yelling.

Max shook his head. “There’s too much we don’t know. Who killed Helen Brunswick? Who mailed that letter? Whose DNA is under Donna Blank’s fingernails? Whether she’s part of the pattern or not. Whether Brunswick knew any of the victims. There is no way to tackle all of that in three days.”

“You’re right. But figuring out all of those things is our long-term goal. All we need to do in the short term is preserve the status quo. We want to keep Amaro inside for now. Make sure no one releases him until we’re sure he’s innocent, right?”

Max took in a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Let’s focus on that and see what we can do. Keeping Amaro in means addressing Judge Johnsen’s concerns about the quality of the evidence. We should set aside all the mess about Helen Brunswick and the Utica victims, and narrow in on the Deborah Garner case.”

“Amaro’s confession being number one,” Rogan said.

Max nodded. “So find a way to cut to the chase with Majors. We need to know if he cut corners. And then we also have the eyewitness. If we can shore up the confession and the ID, we might just be okay. Then we find a way to peel away Donna Blank, like Ellie suggested. You said you had a witness?”

She told him about Mona’s assertion that Donna, unlike the other victims, would not have gotten into a car with a john.

“That’s thin.
Too
thin.”

“I know. But Donna Blank’s the only victim where we found new DNA evidence. Based on the skin beneath her nails, she seems to have fought back, and the others didn’t. And her postmortem injuries weren’t as severe. Only her wrists were broken.”

“Maybe a copycat killed Blank,” Rogan said. “That leaves Amaro on the hook for the others.”

“And the copycat could also be the one who killed Helen Brunswick.” She and Rogan were falling back into their normal groove. “Maybe he knew her back in Utica. Maybe all these years later, he feels some affinity toward Amaro and sends the anonymous letter to try to get him released.”

“That’s a lot of maybes,” Max said. “Let’s stick with the short-term focus and shore up the evidence against Amaro on the Garner case. Start with the confession, like Rogan said. Any luck getting hold of Buck Majors?”

“Maybe,” Rogan said. “I’ve been playing phone tag with him. He left a message during the hearing. Let me see what’s up.”

He made the call while they listened. He said a few
yeah
’s and
uh-huh
’s, then said they could be there in about an hour.

Three days.

A
ccording to the barebones employment files maintained by the city of New York, Buchanan Franklin Majors had served twenty-five years with the New York Police Department, first as an officer, then detective, then briefly as a sergeant detective before his retirement a decade ago. Rogan and Ellie had asked around for the more complete version. The man was a good investigator. Thorough. Patient. A pro in the interrogation room. He had a way of making suspects trust him. Of making them believe that he was their ally. That everything would get better as long as they told good old Buck the truth about what happened.

Ellie shifted her weight in the passenger seat. “How much farther?”

Rogan didn’t take his eyes from the road. “You’re like my five-year-old niece:
Are we there yet? How many more minutes
?”

“Your niece sounds like a genius to me. Seriously, where the hellfuck are we? We’re two New York City detectives meeting a retired New York City detective. Last time I checked, New York City wasn’t so . . . manicured.” They passed a masonic lodge with a mobile sign announcing a pig roast in someone’s honor. Next door, a swarm of teenagers dressed in grass skirts and bikini tops were waving drivers down for a car wash in the parking lot of a Friendly’s. Nope, not N.Y.C.

“Key word being
retired
, Hatcher. Think about it: twenty-five years from now, do you want some newbie detective hauling your ass into a precinct to roll out your old war stories? No, you and Max will be enjoying your regular bingo nights, or whatever, in Long Island.”