“Not that I know of.”
“Do you know what time he was killed?”
“We got the call around eleven thirty. I think time of death was shortly before.”
“Do you know who found him?”
“Don’t know.”
“So any witnesses?”
“Not that I heard of, but like I say, it’s early. Something will turn up, in that neighborhood. It’s busy on a night like tonight. It’s way too soon in the investigation to speculate.”
“Are there a lot of burglaries in that part of Old City? I wouldn’t have thought so.”
“It doesn’t happen often, but it happens.” Detective Azzic shot Mary a comforting glance. “Don’t worry, we’ll lock up whoever did this to your friend. I’ll keep an eye on the case, personally.”
“Thank you so much,” Mary said, meaning it.
“Yes, thanks,” Bennie added.
“See you later.” Detective Azzic turned around as two more detectives came up behind him. “Oh, here we go. Here are Detectives Jason Krakoff and Jonathan Marks.”
Bennie straightened. “Good to see you again, Detectives.”
Mary introduced herself, shaking their hands, though she took an instant dislike to Detective Krakoff. He had a stiff formality despite his youth, and his eyes were ice blue and set close together, with a long nose. His chin was fashionably grizzly, his dark hair scissored into neat layers, and his eyebrows more well-groomed than hers. Mary hadn’t plucked her eyebrows or shaved her legs in forever. Basically, she was a hair factory.
Detective Azzic edged back. “Jason, you know Bennie Rosato, and her partner Mary is an old friend of mine. Your vic was a lawyer in their firm.”
“Right, I know.”
Detective Azzic placed a hand on Detective Krakoff’s shoulder. “Jason, I just briefed them on what you know so far. You can fill in the details.”
“You briefed them?” Detective Krakoff lifted an eyebrow, his expression impassive.
“Yes, but they know it’s confidential. I’ll leave you to it, but take good care of them. Mary’s one of my favorite people on the earth. If you don’t treat her right, her mom’s coming after me with a wooden spoon.”
Mary laughed.
Detective Krakoff nodded. “We’ll take it from here, Tom.”
“Sure.” Detective Azzic went to the threshold. “Good-bye Bennie. Mare, give my best to your family.”
“Will do,” Mary called after him, and Detectives Krakoff and Marks sat down opposite from Mary and Bennie.
Bennie shifted forward. “Detectives, John Foxman was a brilliant young lawyer and we all liked him very much. We want to see whoever killed him brought to justice. Do you have any suspects?”
“We’re not at liberty to discuss that.”
“Understood, and you have our word that we would keep it confidential. We’ve handled a great number of murder cases. We never talk to the press or anybody else, for that matter.”
“Nevertheless, it’s police business.” Detective Krakoff crossed his long legs.
“You may not know that Foxman had no family in town, only an aunt and uncle who live in Minneapolis. We’re essentially the only family he has in Philadelphia and—”
“You’re not family, though.”
“But we have an interest in knowing some basic information, like for example, if you have any suspects or witnesses.”
Detective Krakoff frowned. “It’s standard procedure not to disclose official police business during a murder investigation. We have already notified the victim’s aunt and uncle as next of kin.”
“Oh, how did you get their contact information?”
“Also police business.”
Bennie pursed her lips. “We understand that he was killed during a burglary, from a blow to the head. Do you know what he was struck with? Was it a gun? Did you recover it?”
“I regret that you were given that information. I’ll take you at your word when you say you won’t disclose it to the press.”
“Of course we won’t,” Bennie shot back, becoming irritable. “It’s obvious you don’t trust us, and I’m telling you that you can. Details of a police investigation are not discussed with the general public, but we certainly stand in different shoes than a stranger on the street. We’d like to know your findings so far.”
“That’s not how we work our cases.”
“I’m not asking you anything that won’t be in the newspaper tomorrow, if not the next day.”
“Then you can read it there. But you won’t hear anything more from me tonight than you have already heard.”
“Is it true that he was killed during the course of the burglary, from a blow to a head? Detective Azzic told us that much, so can you confirm?”
“Yes,” Detective Krakoff answered, without elaboration.
“Who called 911? Who found the body?”
“That I won’t divulge.”
“But at that hour of the night, it had to be a witness, since his landlord was away. Did somebody see something through a window? Or hear something?”
“Ms. Rosato, I don’t know how many ways I can say this. I’m not going to discuss details of the case with you.”
Mary interjected, “Detective Krakoff, what my partner is trying to say is that we loved John. He mattered to us, and we’re upset by this. We’re heartbroken. We just want to know what you know. We may not technically be family, but we think of ourselves as family.”
Detective Krakoff blinked, obviously unmoved. “I understand, and I will brief you as the investigation proceeds, to the extent that it’s consistent with police procedures.”
“But can’t you tell us anything more, just to give us some hope?” Mary kept talking, hoping to convince him. “We know that the uniformed officers were canvassing when we left, and there’s a lot of people in that neighborhood. Anybody could’ve seen or heard anybody going into John’s apartment, and if there were signs of a struggle, I would hope that the uniformed officers or you would have someone identify the witness—”
“Excuse me. As I said, we will divulge any such information as is appropriate.” Detective Krakoff slipped a pen and skinny notebook from inside his jacket. “Ms. Rosato, when we spoke earlier outside of the victim’s house, you had some information that may help us. If you do, we’d like to know that now, in the early stages.”
“Certainly. John Foxman was an associate at my office. He worked for us for about four years. His parents are dead, he’s unmarried and the guardian of a brother with cerebral palsy, William Foxman, who resides in a group home in the suburbs. I can get you the address if you wish.”
“I would appreciate that.” Detective Krakoff made a note. “Now, it’s my understanding that Foxman was referred to in a lawsuit that was recently filed against your law firm for reverse discrimination. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Bennie answered lightly.
“We saw video footage of a press conference that took place yesterday, in that regard. He intended to leave the firm. Can you tell us about that?”
“It’s self-explanatory, isn’t it?” Bennie shrugged. “He was looking for another job and was going to leave the firm. That was fine with us, even though we were surprised to learn it at the press conference. We employ people, not imprison them.”
Detective Krakoff made another note, and Mary hid her nervousness. They weren’t going to get any more information and they were entering a danger zone.
“Did the victim have any enemies, that you know of?”
“Not that we know of.”
Mary knew this line of questioning could end up close to Judy. Bennie couldn’t reveal the fact that Judy was dating John, nor could she lie outright to the police.
Detective Krakoff made a note on his pad. “How about friends of his? Did he have a group of friends?”
“We assume so, but we don’t know.”
“How about a girlfriend?”
Suddenly Mary jolted in her chair, her hand flying to her belly. “Oh, yikes. That doesn’t feel good.”
Detective Krakoff looked over. “Pardon me?”
“Ouch!” Mary grimaced. “That felt weird. It felt like a contraction, but it could have been a kick. Probably it’s just Braxton-Hicks, but you never know.”