Burr raised his hand. “Stop right there. That wasn’t my question. I’ll ask you again. Do you know who shot Helen Lockwood?”
Wilcox mumbled.
“What did you say? Yes or no.”
“I object, Your Honor,” Brooks said. “Counsel is berating the witness.”
“Your Honor, I am trying to get a simple answer. Yes or no.”
The judge looked down at Wilcox. “Sergeant, please answer the question so that we can all hear you.”
“No,” Wilcox squeaked.
“No,” Burr said. “You don’t know who fired the pistol that killed Helen Lockwood.”
“No.”
“So, it could have been fired by someone who robbed her and then shot her.”
Wilcox squirmed in his seat. “I suppose so.”
“Yes or no, sergeant,” Burr said.
“Yes.”
“It could have been fired by the charter captain who found the boat?”
“Yes.”
“Or the commercial fisherman who towed her boat in?”
Wilcox looked down at his hands. “Yes.”
Burr looked at the jury. “It could have been fired by anyone. And there is no way for you to know.” Burr looked back at Wilcox. “Is there?”
Wilcox looked up at Burr. The sergeant had turned blood red. “No, there isn’t.”
“I have no further questions,” Burr said, in triumph. He walked back to the defense table.
Jacob reached in front of Tommy and shook Burr’s hand. “Brilliant.”
“Call your next witness, Mr. Brooks,” Judge Fisher said.
Brooks stood. “Redirect, Your Honor.” The judge nodded. Brooks stood at his table. “Sergeant, could the defendant, Mr. Lockwood, have fired the murder weapon? After all, it was his gun.”
Wilcox brightened. “Why, yes, the defendant could certainly have fired the murder weapon.” He beamed. The blood red complexion faded, and a glow came to his face.
Damn it all.
Burr stood. “Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is leading the witness.”
“Isn’t that what you were doing, Mr. Lafayette?” She slammed down her gavel. “Overruled.”
Burr sat.
Of course, that’s what I was doing, but that doesn’t mean Brooks can.
“I have no further questions.” Brooks sat.
“Call your next witness.”
Brooks turned to the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, we showed you where Mrs. Lockwood’s body was found, how she was killed, and the murder weapon. Now we’re going to show you how the defendant got to the scene of the murder.”
Brooks faced the gallery. “The State calls Constance Gardener.”
Burr watched the woman who sold the ferry tickets walk past him. She was short, barely five feet. She was thin, with a thin face. She wore a long skirt and had her hair in a braid that hung down past her waist. An aging hippie, Burr thought. After the bailiff swore her in, she pulled the braid over her shoulder so that it coiled up in her lap like a pet snake. Burr cringed. So did Brooks, and more importantly, so did the jury.
Brooks did his best to block the jury’s view of the coiled hair snake while still letting them see her face. Burr thought the prosecutor had twisted himself so that he looked like a pretzel.
“Mrs. Gardener.”
“Ms.”
Brooks nodded. “Ms. Gardener, you sell tickets for the Park Service ferry to South Manitou. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“In Leland.”
“That’s right.” The witness wrapped her braid around one hand, like a snake. Brooks flinched and moved closer to her.
“Thank you, Ms. Gardener. On or about June 9th of last year, did you sell a ticket to the defendant, Thomas Lockwood?”
“Yes.” She coiled the braid tighter. Brooks moved in closer.
“Is there something wrong?” she said.
“No, of course not.”
“You’re standing awfully close to me.”
Brooks took a step back and one step sideways, so the jury couldn’t see her at all.
“After you sold him the ticket, did you see him board the ferry?”
“Yes.”
“No further questions.”
Burr walked up to the diminutive witness.
The Park Service must not let her wear her hair down when she’s at work.
He made sure the jury could see her every move. “Ms. Gardener, I must say you have long hair.”
She smiled and rewrapped the braid around her hand. The jury recoiled.
Perfect.
Burr put his hands in his pockets. “Ms. Gardener, you testified that you sold Mr. Lockwood a ferry ticket on or about June 9th. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the exact date?”
“No.”
“Could it have been before June 9th?”
“Yes.”
“Or after?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. Gardener, Mrs. Lockwood’s boat was found drifting off Sleeping Bear on June 11th, two days after she disappeared. Could you have sold Mr. Lockwood a ticket after that?”
“Well…” She started wringing her hands with her braid tangled between her fingers.
This is perfect.
“Answer the question, please.”
“No...well…I don’t know.”
“Ms. Gardener, does the Park Service record who buys tickets?”
“No.”
“So, you have no way of knowing when or even if Mr. Lockwood bought a ticket?”
“We’d know if he wrote a check or paid with a credit card.”
“Do you know how Mr. Lockwood paid, assuming he even bought a ticket?”
“No.”
“Do you keep records of those who pay you in cash?”
“No.” The former hippie kept wringing her hands and now had her hair so tight, her braid was pulling her head down.
That has to hurt.
Burr smiled at her. “So, you have no way of knowing when, or even if, Mr. Lockwood bought a ticket.”
She unwound her hair from her hands and sat up straight. “I know I sold him a ticket.”
Burr ignored her. “Ms. Gardener, may I ask how tall you are?”
“Objection,” Brooks said. “Irrelevant.”
Burr looked up at the judge. “I am about to show the relevance, Your Honor.”
“Please do,” she said.
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Burr turned back to the diminutive witness. “How tall are you Ms. Gardener?”
“Five foot.”
“Ms. Gardener.”
“Almost five foot. Four eleven.”
“You’re four-foot-eleven inches tall. Is that right?”
“Yes,” she said, proudly.
“And how far is it from your ticket booth to the ferry?”
The witness looked away, then back at Burr. “I don’t know. Fifty feet. Maybe more.”
“And are there people standing and walking between your booth and the ferry?”
“Sure.”
Burr had her now. “So, at four-eleven, how could you possibly know if Mr. Lockwood boarded the ferry? There are people in the way and you can barely see over the counter,” Burr said, triumphant. “Isn’t that right?”
“Sometimes I stand on a stool.”
“Of course, you do. I have no further questions.” Burr sat.
“Call your next witness.”
“The State calls Frank Sutherland.”
Burr watched the ferry captain, a short, thin man with short, gray hair, walk up the aisle. He had traded his captain’s uniform for a navy-blue, summer-weight suit. Burr thought it surprisingly well cut, but then, the captain did live
in Key West half the year.
The bailiff swore in the witness.
“Mr. Sutherland,” Brooks said. “Actually, Captain Sutherland. You are a captain on the Northern Lights, the ferry that runs between Leland and South Manitou. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And were you aboard the Northern Lights on or about June 9th of last year?”
“I was.”
“And did you see Mr. Lockwood board the ferry?”
“I did.”
“How, may I ask, did you know it was him?”
“I know who he is. From living here.”
“You’re sure it was him?” Brooks said.
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you, Captain Sutherland,” Brooks said. “You live in Key West in the winter. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And when do you usually leave for Key West?”
“About the middle of October, give or take.”
“That would be in about two weeks?”
“That’s right.”
Brooks turned to Burr and grinned. “I have no further questions.”
I didn’t miss it by much.
Burr pushed his chair back and stood. “Captain, do you remember the day, the exact day, you saw Mr. Lockwood board the ferry?”
“The exact day?” Sutherland straightened his tie, which didn’t need straightening.
That is annoying.
Burr took a step back toward the witness. “Yes, the exact day.”
“No.”
“So, it’s possible that Mr. Lockwood could have taken the ferry to South Manitou after Mrs. Lockwood went missing?”
“I suppose so.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Sutherland started to stand.
“One more question. Did you see Mr. Lockwood take the ferry back to Leland?”
Sutherland sat there. Not a word.
“Captain Sutherland?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re sure you saw him board the ferry, but you didn’t see him get back on at South Manitou. Is that right? Perhaps he never got back on at South Manitou because he never got on in Leland. Is that possible?”
Brooks jumped to his feet. “I object, Your Honor. This is sheer speculation. Captain Sutherland already testified that he saw the defendant board the ferry in Leland.”
“Sustained,” Judge Fisher said. “Mr. Lafayette, no more speculation. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor, but I wasn’t speculating. I merely asked a question and then connected the dots.”
“That is the very essence of speculation.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Burr turned back to Sutherland. “Captain Sutherland, is it true that you have been convicted of drunk driving?”
Sutherland sat bolt upright. “No.”
“Should I get the court records? I have them right over there.” Burr pointed to the defense table.
“It was a long time ago.”
“So, you were convicted of drunk driving,” Burr said, not asking.
“It was a long time ago.”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
“So, you were lying just now.” Sutherland started to say something. Burr cut him off and turned to the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, how can we know when Mr. Sutherland is telling the truth and when he isn’t. Or what he has seen and what he hasn’t.” He looked back at Judge Fisher. “I have no further questions.” Burr walked back to the defense table and sat.
Jacob leaned over. “That was exquisite.”
“Your research was exquisite.”
Brooks popped up. “Redirect, Your Honor.”
The judge waved him on.
“Captain Sutherland, are you the only captain on the Northern Lights?”
“No.”
“So, Mr. Lockwood could have taken the ferry back when another captain was in command?”
“Yes.”
Burr popped up. “Objection, Your Honor. Calls for speculation. Captain Sutherland has no way of knowing how Mr. Lockwood returned from South Manitou.” He paused. “If he went over there in the first place, which I doubt.”
“Enough, Mr. Lafayette.” Judge Fisher looked at the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, you will disregard Mr. Brooks’ question, Captain Sutherland’s answer, and...” she paused, “…Mr. Lafayette’s comments.”
“Your Honor, I’ll rephrase the question.” The judge nodded. “Captain Sutherland, is it possible that the defendant could have returned from South Manitou when you were not on board?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. I have no further questions.” Brooks sneered at Burr on his way back to the prosecutor’s table.
We’re splitting hairs, but I made my point.
Brooks called two more witnesses, the his and her deckhands on the Northern Lights. They both testified they had seen Tommy board the ferry, but they weren’t sure what day it was, and they hadn’t seen Tommy on a return trip.
Burr was convinced Tommy was lying about fly fishing on the Betsie, but he thought he was in fine shape if this was all Brooks had.
Except it wasn’t.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Burr looked at his watch. It was 3:30. Would Judge Fisher adjourn for the day? There was probably time for one more witness, but it had been a long day. Burr hoped she would adjourn them, but she didn’t.
“Call your next witness.”
“The State calls Lynne Flannery.”
The bailiff swore in a twenty-something woman with freckles and a turned-up nose, all dolled up in a Park Service uniform. Or as dolled up as one could be in a green shirt and slacks.
“Ms. Flannery, please tell us where you were on June 9th of last year and what you were doing.”
“I was near the harbor on South Manitou. I’m a park ranger on the island.”
“Did you see Mr. Lockwood?”
“Yes.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw him get off the ferry.”
“Anything else?”
“I was in the interior of the island after that, but later that day, I came back to the harbor. I saw a dinghy, a rubber raft, leave the powerboat anchored in the harbor. It came ashore. Mr. Lockwood got in and they went back to the powerboat.”
“Do you know who was in the dinghy with Mr. Lockwood?”
“It was a woman.”
“Do you know the name of the boat?”
“It was Achilles.”
“Thank you, Ms. Flannery. And do you know what day this was?”
“It was June 9th.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I remember because it was supposed to be my day off.” She smiled at Brooks. “But somebody was sick so I got called in.”
Brooks put his hands in his pockets. He turned to the jury and rocked back and forth on his feet. “Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Flannery has not only placed the defendant on South Manitou on the last day the defendant’s wife was seen alive, she also saw him go by dinghy to Mrs. Lockwood’s boat.” He stopped rocking. “And that confirms the testimony of the four witnesses who said they saw Mr. Lockwood board the ferry on that day.” Brooks pointed at Tommy, then turned to the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, just to be clear, Mrs. Lockwood was murdered with the defendant’s gun. The ticket seller, the ferry captain and two deckhands have all testified that they saw the defendant board the ferry the day Mrs. Lockwood was killed.” Brooks paused. “And Ms. Flannery has just now testified that she saw Mrs. Lockwood pick up the defendant in her dinghy and take him back to her boat. Where he murdered her.”
Brooks looked at the judge. “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”
On the way to his table, Brooks stopped in front of Burr. “I saved the best for la
st.”
This is terrible. It’s worse than terrible.
Burr tapped his pencil, then snapped it in two.
This is just ducky.
He looked over to Tommy. “Is this true?” Burr said, under his breath. Tommy didn’t say anything. Burr grabbed Tommy’s shoulder. “Is this true?”
Tommy nodded.
“Mr. Lafayette,” Judge Fisher said.
Burr ignored her. To Tommy, “You’ve been lying to me all along.”
“No.”
“What would you call it?”
“Mr. Lafayette, if you would rather speak with your client than cross-examine the witness, I’m going to excuse her.”
Burr pushed his chair out and walked slowly to the park ranger. Waiving the preliminary exam had just blown up in his face. The best he could do was try to muddy the waters again.
“Ms. Flannery, about how far away were you from the person you saw get in the rubber raft?”
“Oh,” she said, surprised by Burr’s question. “Well, I’m not sure. A hundred feet. Maybe a little more.”
“That’s a long way.” Burr looked at the back of the courtroom, then back at the ranger. “Ms. Flannery, I think the back of this courtroom is probably about thirty feet. So, it was at least three times as far as that.”
She scrunched her turned-up nose but didn’t say anything.
“Let me help.” Before Brooks could object, Burr hurried to the back of the courtroom. He turned back to the park ranger with the scrunched-up nose. “Can you see me back here?”
“Yes,” she said, weakly.
“So maybe three times as far as this?”
“Maybe.”
Burr raised three fingers and held them at his waist. “Ms. Flannery, how many fingers am I holding up?”
The ranger squinted.
Brooks erupted. “Your Honor, this is outrageous. Lafayette’s eye exam has no relevance to what Ms. Flannery saw on South Manitou.”
I’ve made it to a last name basis with Brooks.
Brooks wasn’t done. “Ms. Flannery testified that the defendant got into the raft. That’s all we need to know.”
“For the record, I was holding up three fingers,” Burr said.
“Mr. Lafayette, stop what you’re doing and join us up here.” Judge Fisher wasn’t screaming at him, but she certainly wasn’t using her indoor voice.
Burr strolled up the aisle and stopped in front of the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t doubt that the witness saw someone get in the raft, but I have grave doubts whether, at that distance, she could be sure it was Mr. Lockwood.” Burr leaned on the railing of the jury box. “Ms. Flannery, did you ever speak with either Captain Sutherland or the deckhands about seeing Mr. Lockwood get into the dinghy?”
Bear Bones Page 19
