talking with the other girls, flashing his smile. Girls loved Gio.”
There was laughter again, and Justin was grinning as if he’d won something. But Mary was putting it together. It wasn’t Gio who had gotten to Mrs. Nyquist. If it had been, she wouldn’t be here today. “Helen, did Amadeo Brandolini come into the office, too?”
“Objection, relevance!” Rovitch barked, and Judge Gemmill didn’t bother to rule, but dismissed him with a wave.
“You were saying,” she said, and Mrs. Nyquist swallowed visibly.
“Amadeo came in sometimes.”
“Gio would bring him in, and he would sort of tag along. He was very quiet, isolated from us, because his English wasn’t good. Still, he was a very smart man. He could fix most anything.” Mrs. Nyquist paused. “We tried to talk to him. He was the quiet type, and he got quieter after his wife died.”
“Back in Philadelphia, right?” Mary was starting to suspect that Theresa’s death wasn’t accidental either, but she couldn’t deal with that now. The law clerk returned with copies of the documents and handed them to Mary.
“Yes, we heard that.” Mrs. Nyquist looked down, her gray hair glinting in the overhead lights, and Mary sensed she didn’t need to go any further along this line.
“Helen, I show you the first of three documents you brought here today, which I am marking as Exhibit N-1, and I ask you to look it over while we all do.” Mary took Mrs. Nyquist the top page, then distributed one to Judge Gemmill, one to defense counsel, and an extra one to Justin himself. “Here, as a courtesy, Mr. Saracone.” Then Mary took the lectern without looking back.
Mrs. Nyquist finished reading the document, and looked up.
“Helen, what is the date on this document, Exhibit N-1?”
“It is dated July 1, 1942.”
“Thank you. Could you please read Exhibit N-1 to the court?”
“Certainly.” Mrs. Nyquist cleared her throat, and Mary looked down at the document. The paper felt soft under her fingerpads, yellowed and crinkly, and the typeface was the Smith Corona Courier she’d grown to love at the National Archives. The History Channel indeed; this case had a beating heart. As Mrs. Nyquist read the document into the record, Mary read it to herself.
CONTRACT
Giovanni Saracone and Amadeo Brandoliniagree that Gio will make a translation into English for an invention of Amadeo’s, which Amadeo says is a kind of cover that goes on the deck of his fishing boats and keeps the water out of the hull and closes by itself without him having to close it all the time, and Gio also agrees to help get for him the application for the Patent and to send to the United States Government. These are Amadeo’s drawings that he made to show his invention for a cover. The drawings show thecover and the way it closes by itself. Amadeo already gave Gio fifty dollars ($50) to do this work and Amadeo promises to give Gio fifty more dollars ($50) when Gio finishes the translation for the Patent and we send it to the Government. This contract makes it legal and binding.
Mrs. Nyquist finished reading, and the courtroom fell completely silent. Then she testified: “The contract is signed with an X by Amadeo on the left, and by Gio here, on the right. And by me underneath, as witness. I typed it up and watched them sign it.”
“Objection!” Rovitch was on his feet. “This document is hearsay! It’s inadmissible! It’s a complete fake!”
Mary faced the judge. “Your Honor, the document isn’t hearsay. Mrs. Nyquist produced the document, she’s a witness with knowledge, and she’s here to authenticate it, if Mr. Rovitch would permit.”
“Objection overruled. Go ahead,” Judge Gemmill said, inclining her sleek head toward Mrs. Nyquist.
“Helen,” Mary said, composing herself. “Where did you type this up?”
“In the office at the camp. At my desk.”
“Why? Did Amadeo Brandolini ask you to?”
“Goodness, no.”
“No. That shifty devil didn’t want anything in writing.”
“Objection!” Rovitch said, and Judge Gemmill slammed down the gavel.
“Counsel, will you give it a
Mary hid her smile, and her confusion, when she faced Mrs. Nyquist again. “Helen, who asked you to prepare this?”
“Nobody. It was my idea.”
Mary blinked. “Why?”
“I never sold a horse without a contract. Never leased a horse without a contract. Never even hauled a horse without a contract,” Mrs. Nyquist answered, matter-of-factly. “You gotta have a contract. Don’t need a law degree to know that.”
Mary broke into a smile, and the gallery and Judge Gemmill laughed with her.
“So,” Mrs. Nyquist continued, “when I saw these two making this deal, I said, one a you is gonna need this thing on down the line.” She eyed Justin coldly. “I knew just which one, and I’m sorry to say I was right.”
Mary felt like clapping, but she’d be disbarred. The gallery was murmuring and Judge Gemmill was smiling. Mary returned to her exhibits.
“Let’s turn now to Exhibit N-2 and N-3, Helen. What are these documents?” Mary looked down at hers, which felt like precious paper in her hands. They were drawings of the hatches, considerably more detailed than the ones she had found in Amadeo’s wallet, which must have been preliminary. Mary looked up at Mrs. Nyquist.
“These are drawings that Amadeo made, of his hatch,” Mrs. Nyquist testified.
“How do you know Amadeo made them, and not Giovanni Saracone?”
“Because he drew them in front of me, right then.”
Mary blinked. “While you waited?”
“It took an hour and a half, and he did it from memory, all of it. He was a smart man. Not an educated man, but a smart man.”
“Helen, did you make copies of this contract?”
“I did. I made carbon copies when I typed it.”
“How many?”
“Two. One for Amadeo, and one for Gio. I kept this one, the original, for safekeeping.”
Mary thought a minute. “At whose request?”
“I did it on my own. I downplayed it, I guess you’d say. I don’t think either man noticed I kept the original, they were so excited.” At the recollection, Mrs. Nyquist had a faraway look. “Gio practically skipped out of the office.”
And Amadeo had signed his own death warrant. Mary put together what must have happened. Saracone had undoubtedly gotten rid of Amadeo’s copy of the contract, but he’d forgotten about the original. Mrs. Nyquist hadn’t. Mary heaved a sigh. Her job was done.
“Your Honor,” Mary said, “Exhibits N-1 through N-3 having being authenticated, I move for their admission into evidence.”
“Admitted,” Judge Gemmill ruled, nodding.
But Mary tensed as Rovitch approached the lectern.
Because it wasn’t over until it was over.
