CHAPTER 47

ONE OF THOSE OTHERS WAS THE PROSECUTOR. IT WAS M.L. EBERT’S turn before the jury panel.

The Deputy Pennsylvania Attorney General was also keenly aware his case would hinge upon the believability of Caesar Montevecchio’s testimony. What an unenviable task for any law enforcement official, trying to convince a jury that Caesar Montevecchio was a credible, reliable witness, one to be believed. And how does one go about such a herculean task when one doesn’t totally believe himself that former choir boy Montevecchio had any redeeming qualities? Still, Ebert would give it his best shot.

First, he patiently reiterated much of Montevecchio’s damaging testimony against Arnone. Then he explained that while Montevecchio might have lied earlier in the investigation, once he began cooperating with Detective Sergeant DiPaolo in 1987, his statements were confirmed by physical evidence uncovered by criminal investigators. For example, how could Montevecchio have even imagined such a story that he related in his testimony if he did not first know that the defendant Arnone had a safe deposit box at the same bank where Dovishaw had rented his bank boxes? It was opened in 1982 and next to Dovishaw’s box. DiPaolo thought about a 1982 wedding during which “the Pig’s” bank boxes were discussed – coincidence? Or, how could Caesar have even known, if not for Niggsy Arnone himself, that Arnone had visited the bank vault on the day after Frank Dovishaw was murdered? Or that Arnone had signed the vault entry slip that same day? Valid questions to ponder, all of them.

Despite the creativity, embellishment and even the cleverness, Ebert indicated, Caesar alone could not have dreamt up those facts. Ebert pointed out Montevecchio’s account had been fully corroborated by the physical evidence found by police as the case slowly unfolded over the years with glacier-like, but steady speed. And Ebert disputed Santaguida’s characterization of the alleged murder plot as “stupid,” saying the defense version was not accurate. Then Ebert turned again to his key witness, the one person upon whom this murder case would rise or fall. Montevecchio, although he was not then still physically present in Judge Fred Anthony’s courtroom, got center stage prominence.

“You have a right to believe Caesar Montevecchio,” Ebert insisted with volume and flare equal to Santaguida’s previous dramatic summation. Dom DiPaolo was indeed impressed in the way Ebert responding to all the allegations made during Santaguida’s summation.

Then the prosecutor added, “Now, maybe you’re saying, M. L. Ebert, you need reality therapy. Caesar Montevecchio is a scum, a rat, a criminal. But, he was part of that murder plan! And as stupid as Mr. Santaguida says it was, it almost succeeded, didn’t it?”

Jury members now clearly pondered Ebert’s words, much in the same way they had considered what Santaguida said earlier. It was turning into a good argument and Ebert now clearly had the attention of six transfixed men and six equally mesmerized women. No one’s eyes were glazing over. This was fascinating stuff.

“If Caesar Montevecchio hadn’t come forward, everyone would have skated!” Ebert said.

Ebert addressed motive, perhaps the most important factor in any murder trial in jurors’ minds. They want to know, why did he do it? Ebert told them what he believed was overwhelming evidence against Arnone, including testimony about Arnone’s then failing business, and a series of loans and gambling debts, some of which were said to be owed to Dovishaw himself.

“In one respect, Anthony Arnone and Caesar Montevecchio are identical,” Ebert said of the one-time friends. “Both were driven to this job by their gambling. One compelling drive got to them.” Arnone’s need for cash resulted in his coming up with a plan to get that cash, Ebert told the jury. Money is always a strong motive to introduce, and one in which jurors can relate. “They executed a plan. They executed a human being.”

Ebert paused once more for effect, but then said, “You now know what the last moments of Dovishaw’s life were like. And for what?” Ebert’s words hung heavy in the packed courtroom. “For another poker game? Another night at the track? There’s only one just verdict in this case.” He pointed at Arnone, saying, “That man is guilty as charged.”

It was indeed as powerful a prosecution summation as DiPaolo had seen, the cop at the defense table thought. DiPaolo had seen many closing arguments, and even a few trials where attorneys presented no summations. Ebert’s surely ranked with the best of them. But would it be good enough to sway the jury’s collective decision? Would it be good enough for a unanimous verdict sending Niggsy Arnone to the electric chair or life in prison? DiPaolo sighed. Once again, he thought, the decision was out of his hands.