“Of course,” Tredesco lies. “I do that in every investigation. Even where it’s clear from the start who committed the crime, I try to play devil’s advocate, ask myself who else might have done it. If another lead does appear, I follow it wherever it takes me. That’s what criminal investigation is all about.”
Devlin spends another half hour with Tredesco, having him recount to the jury his and Detective Cook’s investigation, step by step. Their interviews with all the neighbors, giving their names and the dates and times they were interviewed. Their interviews with Edwin Hanson, Kevin Kratz, the garage manager, and then Barbara King and half a dozen of David’s other colleagues at work. Reviewing the evidence with the CSU team and the medical examiner. Interviews with Jennifer Yamura’s coworkers, friends, and even her parents and brother. Late nights and early mornings. Meals skipped. Even an anniversary missed. Devlin’s message to the jury: the police conducted a thorough investigation and followed the evidence to David Hanson.
“Did you find anyone who could place the defendant anywhere other than at Jennifer Yamura’s house on the afternoon of her death?” Walker asks.
“No one placed him anywhere else.”
“Did you find anyone who had information that Mr. Hanson put, or intended to put, the four million dollars to any use other than as seed money for an attempt to flee the jurisdiction?”
“No one came forward with any other reason for the money.”
“One final area of questioning, Detective,” Walker says. “And it’s an important one. Did you find any other credible leads, any other suspects in Jennifer Yamura’s murder, that weren’t speculative?”
“That weren’t speculative, no. I mean, we knew Ms. Yamura wasn’t exactly liked by the police officers charged in the drug ring. But none of them were caught running out of her house. And the CSU team didn’t find any prints of those particular officers in the house. So we marked them off the list. After due consideration, of course.”
“Had Ms. Yamura received any death threats from any of the officers?” Devlin asks.
“There was no evidence of that.”
“Any phone calls to her house made from the numbers of any of those officers? Or calls from her to them?”
I’m ready to spring now. The court has made clear that Jennifer’s calls to me are out of bounds, but I can imagine Tredesco trying to slip them in.
He plays it straight. “No.”
“Other than her relationship with the defendant, did you learn of any romantic relationship that would give someone a motive to kill Ms. Yamura?”
“No one,” Tredesco answers.
“Thank you, Detective,” Walker says. “Your Honor, that’s all I have on direct.”
The court gives everyone a ten-minute midmorning break to stretch and use the bathroom. I wait for the deputy to take David through the side door to the holding cell. Then I turn to Ginsberg and Vaughn. Marcie is leaving the courtroom through the door on the left, Piper through the door on the right.
Ginsberg rolls his eyes. “Tredesco.” He knows the detective as well as I do.
Thirty minutes after the ten-minute break has begun, the jurors are back in their seats. Judge Henry gives me the nod, and I’m on my feet in a flash, going right at John Tredesco.
“You would have this jury believe that you conducted an exhaustive investigation?”
“Very exhaustive.”
“That you left no stone unturned? That you looked into every possible suspect?”
“Every credible suspect.”
“List for the jury the names of the drug-pushing cops you looked into. Tell the jury every step you took to investigate each of them.”
“Like I said, their prints weren’t at the scene. There was no evidence they even tried to contact the victim before she was killed.”
“List their names, Detective. The names of the drug-pushing cops indicted by the grand jury.” Tredesco pauses, glances at Devlin, who merely opens his hands.
“I don’t remember their names,” Tredesco says, so I hand him the list.
“Does that refresh your recollection?”
Tredesco hems and haws, but I eventually get him to list the officers’ names.
“What was that phrase you used on direct examination?” I ask. “That Ms. Yamura ‘wasn’t exactly liked’ by the crooked cops? Did you really say that?” Tredesco stares at me. “Those crooked cops hated her, isn’t that true? Her story on them instantly destroyed their reputations, cost them their jobs, and sped up their prosecution. Isn’t all of that true?”
“Like I said, there was no evidence they even tried to contact the victim before she was killed.”
“Really? They didn’t call her to warn her they were coming? Is that what you’re saying?”
Tredesco’s eyes bore into me. “There was no contact between any of those officers and the victim. And none of their fingerprints were found at her house.”
“Did you consider the fact that experienced police officers might have heard about fingerprint evidence and decided to wear gloves?”
“We found no gloves at the scene.”
“Because the police would know better than to leave gloves at the crime scene. Gloves that would have their prints and DNA all over them.”
Tredesco sits rock-still in his chair. “The police didn’t kill her.”
“They killed one of their fellow officers who testified against them, Stanley Lipinski. Shot him down like a dog in the street.”
Devlin is on his feet, objecting, as he should. “Your Honor, there is not one shred of evidence that Officer Lipinski was killed by other police officers, let alone the ones implicated in the drug ring. I move to strike counsel’s remarks and ask the court to stop this absolutely improper line of questioning.”
The court sustains the objection, and I move on.
“Let’s change direction for a minute,” I say. “You told the jury that you couldn’t find any witnesses who placed Mr. Hanson somewhere other than the murder scene at the time Ms. Yamura was killed.”
“Not one.”
“What about the other half of the equation, the half that you forgot to tell the jury?” Tredesco squints. He knows where I’m going. “In all your exhaustive efforts, with all those people you interviewed, all those stones you turned, you didn’t find a single witness who placed Mr. Hanson at the murder scene that afternoon, either. Isn’t that true?”
“I guess nobody was looking out their window when he came in and out of the house.”
I’m about to move the court to strike the snide answer, but Judge Henry beats me to the punch, leaning over the bench toward the witness. “Answer the question squarely, Detective. Did you find any witnesses who placed the defendant at the scene of the murder at the time of the murder?”
Tredesco answers grudgingly. “No.”
Tredesco and I dance a little more around the lack of evidence placing David at the scene when Yamura was killed, then I move on to another subject. “I understand there was a rash of break-ins in Ms. Yamura’s neighborhood around the time she was murdered.”
Tredesco shrugs. “It’s Philadelphia.”
A couple of the jurors smile.