“How do you know that?” Robin asked.
“She told me. Shortly before she was murdered, she called me in tears and told me he was cheating on her again and she wasn’t going to stand for it. That’s why he had my Elizabeth murdered. Elizabeth had a lot of money, which that bastard will now inherit. A divorce would have turned off the money faucet.”
“Do you have proof that Carasco was cheating on your daughter?”
“Give me the photos, Leo,” Raptis commanded imperiously.
Boyce took a manila envelope out of an attaché case he’d been carrying and handed it to his employer. She opened it and spread a group of photographs across Robin’s blotter. One photograph showed Anthony Carasco being greeted by a very attractive blonde in skimpy lingerie at the door of an apartment. A series of photographs taken through a space between a window shade and the edge of the window showed the couple kissing and fondling each other as they crossed a room, then disappeared into another room.
“Leo, did you conduct the investigation into Judge Carasco’s background?” Robin asked.
Boyce looked at his employer. She nodded.
“Yes,” Boyce answered.
“Did you come up with evidence that I can introduce in court that would prove Carasco hired someone to kill his wife?”
“No, ma’am. I can show he’s met with drug dealers and other criminals who would be willing to kill his wife for a price, but I don’t have a smoking gun.”
“Besides drugs, did you find evidence that Carasco was involved in any other type of crimes?”
“Such as?”
“Illegal fights.”
Boyce frowned. “Why are you asking?”
“I can’t tell you. But I may be able to show a connection between Mrs. Carasco’s murder and the judge if you did have evidence of his involvement in unsanctioned, no-holds-barred fights.”
“I never found anything pointing that way.”
“Ms. Lockwood, I am very wealthy,” Raptis said. “That wealth is at your disposal if you need it to prove that Anthony Carasco hired the man who murdered my daughter.”
“Thank you. And you should know that there’s a good chance that my client is not the person who took your daughter’s life. In fact, he may be as much a victim in this case as your daughter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“We have something you need to see,” Carrie Anders said as she and Roger Dillon walked into Vanessa Cole’s office.
Carrie set her phone on the DA’s desk. On the screen was a YouTube video of two men facing each other in an open space in what might have been a barn. No one else was in the shot. Carrie pressed the screen, and the two men started to fight. There was no sound. Within seconds, one man was down, and the other man was beating him senseless. That’s when the clip ended.
“That’s Joseph Lattimore!” Vanessa exclaimed.
Carrie nodded. “And the man on the bottom is Carlos Ortega, whose body was found in a vacant lot not far from the tent city where Lattimore lived, before he moved to that motel. Ortega was beaten to death.
“We’ve got more good stuff for you,” Carrie said. “Tell her about the hand wraps, Roger.”
“We conducted a search of Carasco’s neighborhood,” Roger said. “Hand wraps that a boxer would use to protect his knuckles were found in a garbage can on Carasco’s property. There was a lot of blood on them. We ran a DNA test. Some of the blood on the wraps matches Betsy Carasco’s DNA, and trace evidence matched Lattimore’s DNA.
“Carlos Ortega’s injuries are similar to those that Betsy Carasco suffered, and there was blood on the hand wraps that didn’t belong to Mrs. Carasco or Lattimore. We had that blood tested. It’s Ortega’s. So, we’ve got Lattimore for two murders, and that should be enough to convince a jury he deserves to die.”
Anthony Carasco had taken a few days of sick leave so it would look like he was mourning Betsy. During the first couple of days, there had been several visitors and calls of condolence mixed with calls for comment from the press. When the phone calls became a nuisance, Carasco started letting most of them go to voice mail, but he always checked caller ID before ignoring a call.
Carasco was reading the newspaper when his cell phone rang. He accepted when he saw the caller was Vanessa Cole.
“There’s been a development I thought you should know about,” the DA said.
“Oh?”
“Shortly after Mrs. Carasco was murdered, the body of a man named Carlos Ortega was discovered in a vacant lot near a homeless enclave where Joseph Lattimore was living. He had been beaten in a manner similar to the way your wife was killed. We have evidence linking Mr. Lattimore to this homicide. I’m going to present the evidence to a grand jury tomorrow and ask for an indictment for manslaughter.
“The manner of Mr. Ortega’s death is so similar to the way your wife was killed that I may be able to introduce it in the trial of Mr. Lattimore for your wife’s death. Even if I can’t, I’ll definitely be able to introduce the evidence in a sentencing hearing, because it bears on whether Lattimore will be dangerous in the future. The indictment will also give me a lot of leverage to get Mr. Lattimore to plead, which will save you the ordeal of having to go through a trial and all of the appeals that would follow.”
“This is great news. Thank you for calling me, Vanessa.”
“I’ve made Mr. Lattimore a plea offer that would let him
