Judge & Jury by James Patterson, Andrew Gross Read Free Book Online Page A

an entry in her trial notebook, too—and underlined it: Cavello was there!
    At two o’clock, they all filed back in. Louis Machia was still on the stand.
    “I want to pick up where we left off, Mr. Machia.” The prosecutor stepped back up to the stand. “What happened after Samuel Greenblatt’s murder?”
    “After the murder?” The witness thought a moment. “I was promoted, Mr. Goldenberger. I was made a soldier, like you said.”
    “I think that was several weeks afterward,” the prosecutor corrected him. “Maybe a month?”
    “Twenty-seven days.” Machia smiled. “To be exact.”
    There were a few more chuckles from the gallery. From Goldenberger, too. “Clearly, that was an important day in your life, Mr. Machia. But I was referring more to the days immediately after Sam Greenblatt’s murder.”
    “Oh, that.” Machia shook his head as if he’d been thwacked in the face. He took a sip from his water bottle again. “We ditched the car. We were all supposed to meet up at Ralphie D.’s diner later, in Brooklyn.”
    “And did that go smoothly, Mr. Machia?”
    “ That part, Mr. Goldenberger, yeah. We left the car at Newark Airport. Stevie tossed the plates into a marsh off of I-95. We were all high fives and celebrating. Good things were going to happen.”
    “But that wasn’t the case, was it? What did happen?”
    The dark-haired mobster chortled disgustedly, shaking his head. “I guess after we shot Mr. Greenblatt and pulled away from his house, someone, one of his neighbors maybe, must’ve got a glimpse at the plates.”
    “Someone spotted you? And how did you end up realizing that?” the young prosecutor pressed.
    “’Cause later that night, around seven, the cops came to my house. I wasn’t there, but my wife and kids were. They asked to see her car.”
    “ Her car?” The prosecutor looked confused. “Why would they ask to see your wife’s car, Mr. Machia?” It was clear Goldenberger knew the answer but was adroitly leading the whole courtroom there.
    “Apparently, the plates the neighbor had picked up as we drove away were registered to her. ”
    There was an audible gasp throughout the courtroom.
    “ Your wife, Mr. Machia? You previously told us Steven Mannarino was supposed to steal plates for the hit.”
    “I guess he did.” Machia scratched his head. “From my house.”
    Andie glanced toward O’Flynn, down the row. They both double-blinked, as if making sure they had heard right.

Chapter 16
    JOEL GOLDENBERGER’S EYES were wide. “This is your best pal, Mr. Machia. You’re telling me he stole the plates for this hit from you? ”
    “I said we had known each other since we were kids, Mr. Goldenberger. He was my oldest, not my best, friend, and he wasn’t the smartest guy.”
    Snickers of disbelief erupted. Andie glanced up and could see Judge Seiderman hiding a smile again. Finally, when the courtroom calmed down, the prosecutor shook his head. “So, Mr. Machia, go on.”
    “After my wife called me, I called Stevie up and said, ‘Stevie, what are you, fucking nuts?’ Sorry, Your Honor. Anyway, what he told me was that his mom had found the stolen plates and threw them out and he’d panicked. He only lived down the block, so he knew our place like his own. I guess he found my wife’s plates in a box on the side of our house and figured, who would ever know?”
    There was a stunned silence for a few seconds—the sound of total disbelief. Then the prosecutor continued. “So what happened when the cops came to your house?”
    “My wife told them someone must’ve jumped the fence and stolen them.”
    “Your wife’s a pretty quick thinker, Mr. Machia.”
    “Yeah, and she was pretty damn pissed, too.” He shook his head and smiled.
    This time, no one could hold back. Andie figured everyone had the same image: the gangster’s wife coming after him with a frying pan. She put a hand over her face and averted her eyes. She caught a glimpse of Cavello. He was smiling,