Page 162 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case
P. 162

Jury-rigged

          “The eighth juror, Grant Bloch, is a postal worker—what is this
        you wrote in the margin, Duncan: ‘letter-carrier’?—good; thirty-seven
        years old, height and weight unknown. Lives with his mother in her
        house. She is on the ground floor, can’t get upstairs anymore. He has
        his parents’ old bedroom and bathroom up there. There is access to
        the second story from the back yard, ‘something like a fire escape.’
        What does that mean, Duncan?”
          “It’s an old building, not up to code. They bolted a steel ladder to
        the exterior wall, under the bedroom window.”
          That satisfied her, for the moment. I could tell she was filing that
        little oddity away in her mind for later investigation.
          “Now,  on  the  night  of  the  murder,  Bloch  was  not  upstairs:  his
        mother  had  severe  indigestion,  and  he  had  to  keep  her  company
        because  she  could  not  sleep.  So  he  would  not  have  been  a  good
        target on that occasion. Juror number nine is Jerry Ko. Age twenty-
        six, height five-five, weight one thirty. Occupation: auto mechanic at
        a  large  dealership.  His  employer  did  not  want  to  pay  his  salary
        beyond two weeks of jury duty, but the judge would not excuse him.
        This could incline a man to rush to judgment, Duncan: his attitude
        might have been evident in court. I’m sorry I was not there. Mr. Ko
        is single, renting a large apartment with three other men in the same
        line of work. Each has a bedroom and a bathroom. The unit is on
        street level, with a kitchen door opening on a hallway to the secured
        parking garage. His roommates come and go on weekends, and he
        was alone in his room on the night in question. Doesn’t sound like
        someone high on the list of easy hits, does he?”
          “No. On the other hand, those guys tend to have loud music or
        TV  on  in  their  rooms,  masking  any  unusual  sounds  coming  from
        elsewhere in the building.”
          “Interesting.” She had her head down, tapping her own notes into
        her computer, so  I couldn’t  read what expression  of interest  really
        graced that white stone face.
          “The next juror, number ten, was not in town when Wanda Lustig
        died.  He  is  Curtis  E.  Carr,  who  lives  in  the  back  of  his  photo-
        processing  and  instant-printing  shop.  Some  background  in  the
        newspaper business, gave it up to run his own shop. Age thirty-six,
        height six feet, weight one eighty. He also claimed economic hardship
        during jury selection—to no avail, as he does have a couple of part-

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