PART 35 (59 page)

Sandro and Mike walked down the back stairs of the tenement, into the rubbish-strewn rear yard that they had come to know and hate so well. It didn't seem half so bad at night, in the dark, when you couldn't see most of the filth stagnating there.

“Where did his wife say he'd be?” Sandro asked.

“She said she thought he was in the boiler room of One sixty-one. I guess that's over this way.”

They walked toward the rear of 161. Out of the dark, suddenly, the bulky figure of a Negro stepped toward them.

“Roosevelt?” Sandro asked quickly.

“Yeah, who is it?” He stood facing them, the light over the door shining on him.

“My name is Luca. I'm an attorney. This is Mike Rivera. We're working on the case where the policeman was killed on the roof last July. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. The cops was runnin' all over my yards. Still comes around, one of them. But I don't know nothin' 'bout that case. I told that to the cop what came to see me couple days ago.” Roosevelt Jackson spoke slowly, thickly.

“A cop came to see you a couple of days ago?” asked Sandro. “Do you know his name?”

“No, I don't pay no ‘tention to his name. He's the same one use come aroun' here all the time. He don't come round much no more. He don't have no uniform.”

“What does he look like, this cop? A tall guy, with red hair, thin on top, like he's going bald?” asked Mike.

“Somethin' like that,” Jackson replied.

“He asked you about the fence in the back, didn't he?” Sandro said.

“That's right. All you fellows come round askin' the same things, don't you? Seem you save a lot of time only one of you come round and he tell the rest.”

“I think you've got a good idea there, Roosevelt, but they don't talk too much to us, so we have to do it ourselves,” Sandro replied.

“That don't make no sense, does it? Nope, no sense at all. I got to pull my barrels now. You want to talk to me, better talk fast now, cause I got to pull my barrels. I'm not rushin' you or nothin', but those barrels don't pull themself, you know?”

“Just tell me about the fence, Roosevelt.”

“Nothin' to tell, cause there wasn't no fence. They ain't been no fence back there cuttin' across my yards for a long time. They cut behind my buildings, the long way, you know.” He looked out toward the back. “Well, you can't see them now.”

“We know what the yard looks like, Roosevelt.”

“Well, then you know. The fence separates this here side of the block from that other block. But they ain't no fence that keeps me from walkin' from one to the other of my buildings on Stanton Street. Got a alley, all the way to Suffolk Street. Been that way a long time, too. Used to be a fence though,” Roosevelt rambled on. Sandro wanted to listen. “Yep, used to be one up by Suffolk Street, but the kids tore that down, too. Maybe two, three years ago. Ain't been none there since then. Hey, I got to get my barrels pulled.”

“One thing, Roosevelt: how long have you been the super here?” asked Sandro.

“Oh, ‘bout, lemme see. Maybe five years, just about five years.”

“Can you come to court, Roosevelt? I'll have Mike pick you up in the car, and he'll drive you to court and drive you right back?”

“I got to take care of my buildin's. Who's going to do that if I go to court? You goin' to come here and take the buildin's when I'm in court?”

“We'll do it quickly, so you won't be gone, no more than, say, one hour. How's that? And of course, I'll compensate you. I'll pay you for any time you lose from the job. Double time.”

“That's okay, then.” He smiled now. “Now you talkin'. Where is this court, anyways.”

“Mike'll pick you up Monday morning. About ten o'clock.”

“No, better make it later, ‘leven. I got to pull the barrels early. I'll be here ‘leven.”

“On Monday morning, at eleven.”

“Right, Monday,” Jackson repeated. “At ‘leven.”

CHAPTER XXVII

Friday April 19th, 1968

Siakos began the day by recalling Mrs. Hernandez. As she walked to the stand, Sandro glanced at Hernandez, whose eyes longed after her. She was twice the woman Hernandez deserved, Sandro thought. She was even twice the man he was.

She testified through the interpreter that after Hernandez had dropped her off at her place of employment, the morning of July 3rd, he drove away. He returned a little after noon. They walked to the bank, where Mrs. Hernandez cashed her paycheck. She said she was paid on July 3rd because of the holiday, the fiesta, the next day. They went to have lunch, walking back to her building at about five minutes before 1. They met German Ortega in front of the building, and they had all laughed because Mrs. Hernandez had introduced her husband to Ortega at the very spot when they were going out to lunch. At 1
P.M.
, Mrs. Hernandez testified, she gave Hernandez a dollar to buy gas, and returned to work.

On the way home that night, she testified, there were crowds milling about Stanton Street, and many policemen were near her car. Upon telling the police who she was, she was taken to the station house. She testified that no one else had been with Hernandez in the car or anyplace else when she was with him that morning and early afternoon. Siakos turned the witness over to Ellis.

Responding to Ellis's questions, Mrs. Hernandez testified that she had waited for Hernandez to pick her up after work that day, but he had never arrived. She went home by herself on the subway. When she reached Stanton Street, and had identified herself, the police searched her purse, and took her to the precinct house. There, detectives asked her where she had been, where she worked.

“He's getting ready to impeach her credibility with this statement,” Sandro said, handing Sam a photostat of a police DD5. According to the report, Mrs. Hernandez had told a detective on July 3rd that she had left Hernandez in their apartment that morning.

“If the cops can perjure themselves on the stand, what's to stop them from writing out a phony DD5?” said Sam. “But she handles herself all right. Let's wait and see.”

Ellis asked Mrs. Hernandez if she had said to any policeman that she had left Hernandez at the apartment when she went to work on July 3rd. Certainly not, she replied firmly. He asked her, as he read from the DD5, whether she actually lived at 163 Stanton Street. She said she did. He asked whether it was true she and Hernandez had a child, and if he was in a day-care center while she worked. All that he read from the DD5 was the truth, Mrs. Hernandez said, except for her having left Hernandez in the apartment that morning.

“All they asked me was where was I, where was I,” she said through the interpreter. “That is all. They wanted to know where had I been that day, and I kept saying I was working, I was working, I was working. They didn't ask about when I went to work.”

Ellis had no further questions. Sam rose and asked Mrs. Hernandez if she had been in that station house all night, except when the police took her home briefly to search her apartment.

“Yes,” she replied. She said she had even fainted from fatigue on the station house steps as she left there the morning of July 4th. Sam had no further questions.

Siakos stood. “Ramon Hernandez,” he called. Hernandez, tall, lean, dark, rose and walked to the stand. The jury watched him intently. He looked out at Siakos as a player looks at his coach. He was totally uneasy.

Through the interpreter, Hernandez testified that he did not see Luis Alvarado at all on July 3rd, 1967; that he did not plan a burglary with Alvarado; that he was never in or on the building where the policeman was killed. He said that he had, in fact, broken into an apartment on 119th Street in El Barrio at approximately 11
A.M.
that day. He testified that he pulled the job alone. Once again, he repeated that he met his wife for lunch, got a dollar for gasoline, left her at about 1
P.M.
, and drove to the pawnshops.

Siakos had Hernandez identify the suits and the radio he had pawned. He also identified the signature cards from the pawnshops. He said he had had identification in a wallet which belonged to one Antonio Cruz, who had lent him the wallet in return for a bag of heroin. Hernandez said that after leaving Sid Goodman's at about 2:15, he had gone to 387 Essex Street to buy heroin from a man called Angel Belmonte. He then drove to his house on Stanton Street, arriving about 2:35 or 2:40.

The street was filled with policemen, and there was an ambulance. He double-parked and ran up to his apartment. As soon as he got inside, he prepared a hypodermic and injected himself. Calmer, he began to fix a sandwich. In a few minutes, the police arrived. He remembered the stolen goods in the trunk, and wanted to allay their suspicions, never realizing they were looking, not for a double-parking violator but for a murderer. He told them that someone else had had the car all day. One of the officers grabbed him by the neck, he testified, pulled him close, shouted that Hernandez's jacket was wet, that he was lying about not being out. The cops dragged him out the door and down the stairs.

Hernandez denied having anything to do with the burglary or murder at 153 Stanton Street. He lifted his hand to God and swore he did not participate in the crime. Siakos had no further questions.

Sam Bemer rose. He asked if Hernandez had ever told the police that he had, in fact, participated in the crime. Hernandez replied he had told them many things, but these things were not true. He testified that he told them what he had told them because he was afraid, because he was being beaten. Hernandez said that the only reason he gave the name of Luis Alvarado to the police was that they were beating him, insisting that another man was involved with him in the shooting, and that this other man was a Negro. Hernandez testified that the only man dark enough that he could think of was Alvarado. He said that they refused to believe that he shot the cop himself, insisting it was a tough Negro who shot the cop. Sam had no further questions. Ellis rose to cross-examine.

A court officer whispered to Siakos that Artie Horowitz, proprietor of Excelsior Pawn Brokers, was in court. Siakos asked the judge if it would be possible before Ellis began the cross-examination of Hernandez, to have Horowitz take the stand. The judge permitted the interruption.

Horowitz, whose slick hair and uncooperative attitude Sandro remembered very well, said that there had been a total of eighty-four transactions on July 3rd. The pledges of Antonio Cruz were numbers 57 and 58. Horowitz said that Antonio Cruz could
not
have pledged the suits in the morning. There was no question whatever that the transaction took place in the afternoon. He could not say at exactly what time. Siakos had no further questions.

On cross-examination, Horowitz said that he himself had taken these pledges, but that he could not recognize the man who pledged the articles. He only knew that he took the transaction because the pledge tickets were in his handwriting. He remembered Detective Mullaly's coming into the shop months before the trial and asking questions. Ellis asked him if his memory was better when Detective Mullaly was in the shop or now when he was on the stand. He said his memory was exactly the same. Ellis asked him if he remembered telling Detective Mullaly that the pledges could have been transacted any time between 11
A.M.
and 3
P.M.
Horowitz replied that he might have said that, the afternoon certainly being after 11
A.M.
Ellis asked no further questions.

“Let's recess for lunch now,” said the judge.

Sandro had arranged to share the lunch-pail duties with Siakos. Sandro took the first day. He brought four hot dogs and two apple turnovers for the defendants. They wolfed it all down just before the afternoon session began.

In the afternoon, Hernandez resumed the witness chair. Ellis began his cross-examination. Hernandez repeated the story about the burglary on 119th Street. He said he had gained access to the apartment by swinging from a fire escape and through a partly open window. He said he never mentioned the uptown burglary to the detectives questioning him at the police station because they didn't want to know that. They just kept beating him, hounding him to confess to the murder. He said that he had burglarized the apartment on 119th Street because he was desperate for money for heroin. He said that after the pawnshops, he had bought two bags of heroin from Angel Belmonte. Ellis asked Hernandez to describe Belmonte.

Sam leaned over to Sandro. “You watch the blond guy that's been spotting for Ellis. As soon as Ellis gets all the information about this guy Belmonte, the spotter is going to take off, and the police'll have Belmonte in this court as sure as we're sitting here.”

Sandro turned slowly and looked out at the spectators. Sure enough, after Ellis had exhausted Hernandez's memory of Belmonte, the spotter stood and walked out.

Hernandez testified that Mullaly and several other policemen came into his apartment on the afternoon of July 3rd and wanted to search it. He was then wearing his jacket and hat. He said he was not breathing hard and was not sweating profusely, even though he had just taken a shot of heroin.

“He full of chit, man,” said Alvarado, leaning over to Sandro and Sam. “When he take that shot, he sweat for sure.”

“Well, he's trying to be cute with Ellis,” said Sam. “Watch Ellis tear his head off. When you get on the stand, just answer the questions you're asked, nothing more, nothing less. Don't try to be smarter than Ellis.”

“I'll be okay,” Alvarado assured them.

Hernandez testified that after being beaten horribly, he had admitted certain things concerning the murder to the police. But these admissions, he insisted, were based on information that the police supplied.

Ellis dug into his file and removed some typewritten papers. He handed a copy of the typed pages to Siakos. It was the typed question-and-answer statement that Assistant D.A. Brennan obtained from Hernandez the morning of July 4th.