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At Yuki’s prompting, Brodsky testified that the ambulance drove off with the victim, that he and two investigators interviewed the Sullivans’ neighbors, including Carol Linnert, the 911 caller who had identified the victim as Barbara Sullivan.
Brodsky also testified that another neighbor, Peter Hayes, had seen the husband drive off with the couple’s two boys, ages seven and eleven, and that Hayes told him where the kids liked to go for lunch.
Yuki asked Brodsky if by “the husband,” he was referring to the defendant, Lewis Sullivan. Brodsky said he was and explained what happened next.
“There’s an Arby’s a half mile from the Sullivan house,” said Brodsky. “My partner and I drove there. We found the husband, Mr. Sullivan, having lunch with the boys, Kevin and Stephen.
“Soon as Mr. Sullivan sees us coming in, he gets out of shape, threatens to call his lawyer. I say, ‘Be our guest.’ Then, as I’m getting him out of his seat, he says, ‘Can I talk to youfor a minute?’ I say, ‘For your own good, come quietly. I’ll get someone here to bring your sons, da-da-da-da-dah.’”
“And then what happened?”
“He punches out at me and Phil and I throw him to the floor. Food flies everywhere. Kids are screaming and crying. Backup team enters the restaurant. Phil and I take Sullivan and backup takes the kids and we all drive to the Hall. We book Sullivan for assault, attempted murder, and endangering the welfare of minors and wait with them until CPS arrives.”
Brodsky’s testimony was clear, straightforward, unimpeachable.
Yuki asked, “Were you ever dispatched to the Sullivan house before on a domestic dispute call?”
Before Brodsky could answer, Switzer objected.
Yuki said to Judge Froman, “Your Honor, prior offenses go to a pattern of behavior.”
“Sustained. Answer the question, Officer Brodsky.”
“No, Your Honor. I’ve never been to the Sullivan house before.”
“I have no other questions. Thank you, Officer Brodsky.”
Again, Switzer had no questions for Yuki’s witness, but reserved his right to recall Brodsky at a later time.
CHAPTER 14
IT WAS EARLY Tuesday morning.
After my appointment with Dr. Greene, I drifted through Monday, clocked minimal hours at work, missed my call to Joe and Julie.
I was walking Martha when Julie called from New York, where it was half past ten.
“I had a bagel. With a schmear,” she hooted.
“That’s cream cheese, right?”
“Witheverything.”
Joe got on the line saying, “How are you, Linds? We’re fine. Grandma showed Julie my old baby pictures. Julie doesn’t believe that I was that baby.”
He laughed and I could hear Julie giggling in the background. Rather than bring Joe down to my planet, I told him, “I’ve been busy, but I’ll catch you up when we speak tonight.”
We exchanged coast-to-coast kisses and had just clicked off when Gloria Rose called out, “Here I am.” Martha begansome fancy woofing and dancing, and I handed her leash to Mrs. Rose.
Fifteen minutes later, after navigating the morning rush, I parked in the shade of the overpass on Harriet Street. I walked the long block to the Hall’s main entrance, showed my badge, passed my gun alongside the metal detector, then took the four flights of fire stairs to the Homicide division.
There’s a hinged wooden gate about three feet high just inside the doorway, and just beyond it is the front desk and our gatekeeper. That’s retired court officer Bobby Nussbaum. Bob’s job is to field incoming calls and block walk-ins and random intruders.
As I passed his desk, I waggled my fingers “hello.” He waggled back. Our squad room is a no-frills, forty-by-forty-foot space lit by overhead fluorescent tubes, dampened by frustration, and lifted by the cohesion of our team, respect for our lieutenant, and the sparkling occasions when we closed cases and crossed them off the board.
I walked past the two rows of gray metal desks toward the workstation Conklin, Alvarez, and I had staked out as our own. Our three desks form a square U-shape with my desk bridging the other two. My two partners were on their phones, but Alvarez said “Hey” as I approached.
Inspector Sonia Alvarez is in her early thirties, a leggy brunette recently relocated from Las Vegas MPD, where she used her street smarts working undercover in Vice. She’s funny, brilliant, and can hold a tune. Now she’s with the SFPD, getting an on-the-job degree in Homicide.
