“This, too, is significant. The Better Sleep Council estimates that about ten thousand auto deaths occur each year due to drowsy drivers. Sleepiness seriously impairs reaction time, awareness of surroundings, and ability to discern potential roadway and traffic conflicts. And the danger is greater if alcohol is involved. A drowsy driver is as potentially dangerous as the drunk driver. The combination is lethal.”
“Yo, they weren’t drunk,” Feet said defensively. “Frank had two beers at a shot, tops. Gemma never touched the stuff. She was a lady.”
Dr. Wold’s eyes fluttered at the interruption. “I wasn’t suggesting your friends were drunk, sir. I was suggesting that if he had even a single drink at that late hour, such as one would have at a wedding, and drove on such an unsafe highway, it is extremely likely that this fairly light truck would meet with catastrophic accident.”
Judy wasn’t buying. Pigeon Tony had told her different, and she couldn’t doubt him now, even with the facts going against her. And the attacks against her were giving her a new insight into why Pigeon Tony had killed Angelo Coluzzi. He was a good man, driven to a bad act. Judy was starting to feel exactly the same way. She was understanding how vendettas got started, and once started, took on a life of their own.
“Your decision, Ms. Carrier?” Dr. Wold asked, interrupting her thoughts. “Do you want me to go ahead, or do you want to save your money? I’m being honest with you. I think my findings won’t be greatly different from those of the police.”
Judy met his eye evenly. “Get it done, Doctor. Somebody’s counting on me.”
Part of her knew she was talking about herself, and even Penny looked up, not recognizing the new tone in her mistress’s voice.
Chapter 36
It was dark by the time Judy got back to the office, alone except for Penny. The Two Tonys and Mr. D had offered to stay with her while she worked, but she knew they had homes and lives to return to and hied them off. She’d spend the night at a hotel and tell them about the dog when she checked in, but she had a long night of work ahead. Judy had kept Penny for protection and made sure security downstairs was alerted to the fact that she was alone in the office.
She sat at her desk finishing a motion in the Lucia case. The office was empty. The window behind her was a square of black. The only sound was the clicking of her keyboard. She’d had the idea for the motion on the way back; she had decided to ask the court for an expedited trial in the Lucia case, in view of the string of lethal events directed at her and her client. It seemed the only thing Judy could do legally that had any chance of success, and she had been enthused about it when she’d started.
But as she reread the finished product, her mind grew restless and her bare foot tapped constantly. She couldn’t remember when she’d eaten last. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days. She was too antsy even for coffee, and Penny, sensing her mood, watched her alertly, her head between her paws, at the threshold to Judy’s office. Judy thought of returning Frank’s many calls to her cell phone, but she didn’t want to talk to him yet, not in her present mood, and she didn’t want him to know what had happened at her apartment. Bennie was unreachable and had left a message she would be at her client’s until midnight, in settlement negotiations. Judy considered calling Mary but didn’t want to worry her either. Even Murphy wasn’t around. It left Judy feeling isolated, cut off, and more homeless than usual.
She tried to focus on the brief and read:
Judy shifted in the chair. The more she read, the angrier she got. It had barely been a week since she took his case and already there had been a litany of violence against Pigeon Tony, Frank, and her. The cops couldn’t do anything until they were all dead. The situation was insane. Out of control. Which was close to the way Judy felt. Beneath the veneer of professionalism, she was off the reservation. Slightly deranged. She realized now that it had been brewing all day, since she’d seen her self-portrait smeared with blood. A hunting knife between her legs.
Judy stopped reading, shot up from her seat, and began to pace. Penny watched from between her paws, her large brown eyes rolling back and forth. The office was small and there wasn’t far to pace; even that frustrated her. Her own defense could barely get off the ground, the accident reconstructionist was telling her she couldn’t prove murder against Angelo Coluzzi, and the tapes had been incinerated. Jimmy Bello would be testifying that he had heard Pigeon Tony say, “I’m going to kill you.” All of it was going down the toilet in a hurry. And the violence against her could end only one way, inevitably, on a case she refused to quit.
Judy paced this way, then that, in endless motion, like the proverbial loose cannon, rolling back and forth on a ship’s deck. She paced forward. Wishing she could see her car again. Back. Wishing she could go home again. Forward. Wishing she could do something—
Then Judy came to an abrupt stop. She wiped her brow, suddenly damp. Penny lifted her head, sensing something new.
It struck Judy that there was something she could do. Something she hadn’t tried yet. It was undoubtedly a little crazy, it was equally dangerous, but it sure beat writing briefs. She ran to her computer and sent an explanatory e-mail to Bennie, then resolved to do it. She had a rented Saturn. She had a golden retriever. She felt her sense of humor returning. What else did a girl need?
Judy grabbed her backpack and the dog, caught the elevator downstairs, took the back entrance to her waiting Saturn, and drove off, her eyes on the rearview mirror. Penny sat in the passenger seat, very upright and looking straight through the windshield, the way she always did. Judy always thought of it as the date position, but tonight it felt different. Tonight Penny was riding shotgun.
Judy pointed the Saturn in the usual direction and in no time was threading her way through the streets of South Philly like a professional Italian, instead of an amateur. Like a native she didn’t notice the illegal double- parking, the little shops, or the cool brick colors. Girl and puppy were on a mission.
She took a right on McKean Street, traveled down the number street, then took a turn on Ritner. The traffic was slight. The beach chairs were empty. The Phillies were playing a doubleheader, but South Philly watched it on TV. The seats were better and the beer was cheaper. It actually made sense to Judy, now that she had changed citizenship. After all, these were the people who gave the world Michelangelo and Mike Piazza. Maybe they knew what they were doing.
Judy took another left and cruised down the street until she saw the sign. This was the place. The offices were red brick, with slitted anti-burglary windows on either side of plate-glass doors. She could see the large outline of a security guard through the glass, but the guards and crowd of the morning had died down. The coup of Coluzzi had been accomplished.
Judy parked the Saturn across the street from the offices of Coluzzi Construction, cut the ignition, and turned off the lights. She inhaled deeply to slow her breathing and calm her nerves. She was sweating profusely, odd for her, and she pushed clammy bangs from her forehead. She scanned the street, up and down.
It was dark, with only one of the four mercury vapor streetlights working. It made a purplish halo in the humid night air. The street was typically narrow, with room for parking on only one side. There were no residences in this part of South Philly. Small businesses, closed at this hour, lined the street, their lights off and their buildings empty. Nobody was out, but a light was on inside Coluzzi Construction. Given the events of the day, Marco and his people had to be working late. Judy had hoped as much.
“This is it, Penny,” she said aloud, and the puppy looked over and shifted closer to Judy, the better to lean into her shoulder. Penny was the Lean Machine in the car, but Judy never pushed her away, despite the traffic hazard. And tonight she could use the comfort, however furry.
Judy was supposed to be getting up and going inside, but she was having second thoughts. Why had she come here? She’d been planning to go in and confront Marco Coluzzi. Tell him to call off the dogs. Convince him to let the jury decide the case. Explain to him that if they got her off the case, or killed her, another lawyer would take her place. God, there were hundreds of them, everybody knew that.
Judy set her jaw. She had intended to look the man in the eye and confront him. If Bennie was negotiating a
