She entered the hospital, which was even busier than usual, filled with families standing near the entrance waiting for rides, their babies in their arms, some with a child-sized plastic tube taped to their little cheeks. She hurried to the elevator bank, grabbed the first one, and had it mostly to herself, patting her hair into place and getting her act together as the elevator doors opened.
Mary stepped out of the elevator cab, but there was a crowd in the elevator lobby. Hospital security in white shirts mixed with uniformed Philadelphia police, talking among themselves, their walkie-talkies crackling. Raindrops dappled the heavy shoulders of the cops’ uniforms, dotting their light blue shirts, and they had plastic covers on their hats, which were also wet. Mary had never seen security officers on the floor before, much less Philadelphia police, and the sight of their thick utility belts with retractable nightsticks, Tasers, and holstered Glocks seemed oddly out of place in a hospital dedicated to healing.
“What’s the problem, Officers?” Mary asked, making her way through the crowd.
“Nothing to be concerned about,” one of the cops answered, with a professional smile.
“Okay, well, thanks for what you do.” Mary let it go, turned down the hallway, and headed for the nurses’ station. She had almost reached it when a cadre of police and more hospital security turned the corner, coming toward them like a phalanx. In the middle of them walked Simon, who tugged down his surgical mask to reveal an expression numb with shock.
“Simon?” Mary called back, reeling. She couldn’t imagine what the police wanted with him.
“Mary!” he called out, his eyes flaring with alarm. “Come with me!”
Mary hustled to the group, which closed ranks around Simon, behind the lead cop. “Officer, what’s this about?”
“It’s police business, ma’am,” the lead cop answered, his expression grim under the bill of his cap. “Please, step aside.”
Mary stood her ground, blocking the way. “Officer, my name is Mary DiNunzio, and I’m here to see him—”
“That’s my lawyer, she’s my lawyer!” Simon called out from the middle of the crowd. The nurses and a doctor at the nurses’ station edged away, their expressions collectively shocked.
“Ma’am, please step aside,” the cop repeated, his tone more conciliatory. “There’s very sick children on this floor. We don’t want to disturb them.”
“I know, his daughter is one of them.” Mary lowered her voice anyway. “Just tell me what’s going on, please?”
“We’re escorting him downtown for questioning.”
“For what?” Mary asked, flabbergasted.
“In connection with the death of one Todd Eddington.” The cop gestured over his shoulder at two men in suits, who had just turned the corner with a hospital-administrative type in a CHOP lanyard. “You want details, ask them. They’re the detectives.”
Simon called out, “Mary, call my father.”
“I will,” Mary called back, her mind reeling.
“Ma’am,” the cop said, sternly. “Now please, move aside.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bennie sat at Declan’s kitchen table and hunched over his laptop, pressing Refresh to see if there had been any developments in the death of Todd Eddington. The police hadn’t released any new details, so all she knew was that it was a result of a single stab wound to the chest, but her senses were on high alert. Authorities hadn’t weighed in on whether it was suicide or murder, and she knew there would be no official statement until the medical examiner had officially completed the autopsy in a day or two. But Bennie had handled enough murder cases in her day to know that this one stunk to high heaven.
The undercounter TV was on next to her, and she checked the screen to see if there were any new developments, but a car commercial was on. She returned to the laptop and hit the Refresh button on autopilot, but there was nothing new, there either. Still, she kept trying to put two and two together from the facts she had, replaying her interview with Todd in her mind. She kept coming up with the same conclusion; he didn’t strike her as someone who’d commit suicide. He was cocky, competent, and aggressive, the kind of man who turned his anger outward, not inward. And his last word as he had left the conference room today clearly suggested he was looking forward to the future.
I want my day in court. I want to clear my name.
“Babe, five minutes!” Declan called to her from the deck, where he was barbecuing burgers. An aromatic haze wafted through the screen of the sliding doors, and she hit the button for Refresh on autopilot, her thoughts churning. She felt vaguely stressed since her conversation with Mary and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl, who would have to figure out the effect of Todd’s death on Simon’s case against OpenSpace. Bennie thought it would improve Simon’s case, since OpenSpace wouldn’t be able to put Todd on the stand and have him testify that Simon’s allegations were false, thus losing the chance for the jury to find him credible or even like him.
Bennie hit Refresh again, continuing her train of thought. And if Simon’s case went as far as trial, Mary would still get the contemporaneous notes admitted into evidence, even over a hearsay objection, because they were coming in only to prove the fact that they were said, not that they were true. Legally, Todd’s death could be good news for Mary’s case, but Mary would never think about it that way. Mary cared about people more than cases, even her friend Simon’s case, and she would nevertheless feel terrible that someone had murdered Todd.
“Babe, come out and get some fresh air!”
“In a minute!”
“You said that fifteen minutes ago!”
“But this time I mean it. That time I lied!” Bennie hit Refresh again, wondering about what Mary had said, that there was a defamation suit filed against Simon. It struck Bennie as an overreaction to an individual ADA case and she sensed Nate was taking out his anger at her on Mary and Simon. She couldn’t imagine a basis for any suit against Simon, but she didn’t have to guess.
“Babe! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
“Okay, here I come!” Bennie logged on to the website for the Common Pleas Court, clicked on the magnifying glass for its searchable case index, and plugged in OpenSpace in the block for plaintiff’s name and Simon Pensiera for the defendant’s. In the next moment, a link popped onto the screen, and she clicked it, opening a complaint that had evidently been filed in the case today. She rose with the laptop as she read the allegations, walking outside into a cloud of barbecue smoke.
“You’re like a kid with that thing.” Declan flipped his hamburger, and Bennie crossed the small deck to a faded red canvas chair that matched the reddish trim on the A-frame house, which was surrounded by Declan’s pastures in the middle of the country. His horses grazed near the fence, having been fed and turned out for the night, and the air felt cool and breezy as the sun slipped behind the jagged tree line.
“I’m reading a complaint that got filed today, in what can only be retaliation for Mary’s suit against OpenSpace.”
“Not a counterclaim, an entirely separate lawsuit?”