The Hanging Judge Read Online Free PDF Page B

phoned him out of the blue two weeks later to say he wanted to meet with the prosecutors.
    Captain Sean Daley was Ginger Daley O’Connor’s uncle; he looked as though he hadn’t slept since her shooting. He glared at Rivera with so much malicious contempt that, without saying a word, he spoke louder than anyone in the room.
    The assistant district attorney did little more than make sure the papers were in order, since she suspected, correctly, that Rivera’s case would soon migrate from state to federal court. Two FBI agents had already stopped by her office, picking up police reports and getting names. Soon Buddy Hogan, the U.S. attorney for Massachusetts, would be selecting the local assistant who would actually present the evidence to the federal grand jury and, when the indictment came down, try the case. Good luck to him or her. Half of western Massachusetts would want to hang the defendant without bothering with a trial; the other half would hit the roof at the idea of a death penalty case. If this was Hogan’s idea of fun, the feds were welcome to it.
    The first of the two documents Rivera signed was a plea agreement, which in exchange for the defendant’s full and complete cooperation gave him a chance, if the judge went along, at a maximum prison term of no more than twenty years. The second was a three-page statement providing the details of the drive-by and naming the man who shot Edgar “Peach” Delgado and Ginger Daley O’Connor. Rivera initialed each page; then he and his attorney signed both documents at the bottom. Rivera’s eyes, as he shoved the papers across to the ADA, returned Captain Daley’s icy stare. He said nothing as he rose and limped out of the room, manacled and shackled between two correctional officers.
    Later that evening, Alex Torricelli was hunched over a keyboard at the Holyoke Police Headquarters typing out two other documents, both applications directed to the Hampden County Superior Court: the first for a search warrant specifying an address on the outskirts of the Flats in Holyoke, and the second for an arrest warrant naming the man who lived there, Clarence “Moon” Hudson. Hudson was a twice-convicted drug dealer, known to have a grudge against Peach Delgado; he was associated with the street gang La Bandera, and he was the man Rivera had named as the shooter.
    As soon as the ADA informed headquarters of the positive identification, Alex phoned the clerk magistrate, Delores Andersen, and made sure she was available to come downtown after hours to swear out the affidavit and sign the paperwork. The clerk was known by law enforcement officers throughout the county, not too affectionately, as Deadly Delores due to her tendency to mess up paperwork, lose documents, and generally get sand in her undies. Given the risks, the police were requesting a “no knock” warrant, permitting entry onto the premises without a prior warning.
    Off-duty Holyoke officers were already arriving to beef up the arrest team. Since it was a joint investigation under the auspices of the Western Massachusetts Gang Task Force, city police would be joined by an FBI case agent and two special agents from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. Because of his personal interest, Captain Daley would be joining the group only as an observer. The arrest site was already under surveillance, but the target was not yet on the premises. Moon Hudson was known to be living with his wife or girlfriend and their infant child.
    The weeks since Rivera’s arrest had not been happy ones for Alex Torricelli. After a bridge, two caps, and many hours in the dentist’s chair, his mouth was more or less repaired, but it was still puffy and distorted. Even worse, the work on his left ear had not been entirely successful. Despite the surgeon’s best efforts, a gnarled fold protruded. Alex’s older brother, Tony, had taken to calling him Mr. Spock, and Alex was still startled and depressed by the face he