by Parnell Hall
“No, I did not.”
“Did you see the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder again that night?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what time was that?”
“It was eleven-thirty.”
“And where did you see her?”
“She came out of the elevator and walked out of the building.”
“Out of David Castleton’s building?”
“That’s right.”
“Where did she go?”
“She walked across town to an address on Eighty-eighth Street.”
“You followed her?”
“Yes, I did.”
“The other detective—Dan Fuller—did he follow her too?”
“Yes, he did.”
“You both followed the defendant?”
“That’s right.”
“To this address on Eighty-eighth Street?”
“Yes.”
“What happened then?”
“The defendant went in.”
“What did you do?”
“I stayed and watched the building.”
“For how long?”
“All night.”
Dirkson’s surprise was genuine. “All night?”
“Yes.”
“Till when?”
“Nine thirty the next morning.”
“And how did you happen to leave?”
“Dan Fuller came, told me to go home.”
“He hadn’t stayed all night?”
“No, he’d gone home about one.”
“And he came back at nine-thirty?”
“That’s right.”
“And that’s when you went home?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Tell me this. After you went home that morning—on the day of June twenty-ninth—did you meet with Mark Taylor of the Taylor Detective Agency and Steve Winslow, the attorney for Kelly Clay Wilder?”
“Objection,” Steve said. “Incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial. The prosecutor is now inquiring into matters that happened well after the decedent met his death, matters that happened outside the knowledge of the defendant and that can have no bearing on these proceedings.”
“It goes to the bias of the witness, Your Honor.”
“Overruled.”
“Did you meet with Mark Taylor and Steve Winslow?”
“Yes, I did.”
“I’m not going to ask you what was said in that meeting, but I am going to ask you this. Since that meeting have you ever communicated what you saw on the night of June twenty-eighth to the police?”
“No, I have not.”
“Are you still in the employ of the Taylor Detective Agency?”
“No, I am not.”
“When did you leave the Taylor Detective Agency?”
“June twenty-ninth.”
“Why did you leave the Taylor Detective Agency?”
Marcie raised her chin defiantly. “I wanted to pursue my acting career.”
Dirkson’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said with elaborate sarcasm. “Your acting career. You chose this precise moment to pursue your acting career?”
“I thought I’d been neglecting it.”
“Your detective work taking up too much of your time?”
“That’s right.”
“You left the Taylor Detective Agency to devote full time to your acting?”
“Yes, I did.”
“So much so that you never heard of the murder of David Castleton or the arrest of Kelly Clay Wilder?”
Steve Winslow stood up. “Your Honor,” he said. “Let the record show that I am appearing as the attorney for Marcie Keller. It now appears from his questions that the district attorney has reason to suspect this young woman of a crime. Therefore, at this time I am advising Marcie Keller not to answer that question on the grounds that an answer might tend to incriminate her.”
That was the moment Dirkson had been waiting for. He turned to look at Steve Winslow and as their eyes locked, Dirkson’s face broke into a triumphant grin.
Dirkson turned, shared his satisfaction with the rest of the court. “In that case, Your Honor,” he said, “I have no further questions of this witness.”
With that, the courtroom burst into an uproar.
42.
FITZPATRICK’S FACE WAS HARD. “You should have told me.”
Steve Winslow was slumped back in his desk chair. He ran his hand over his head. “I know,” he said.
Fitzpatrick was sitting in the clients’ chair. Mark Taylor, too agitated to sit, was pacing back and forth. Tracy Garvin stood in the background, looking on. Her eyes were sad.
“If you’d told me, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“If I’d told you, you wouldn’t have taken the case.”
“This is true.”
“You have every right to be angry.”
“I know.”
“I let you down. I let Mark down. The whole thing’s a mess.”
“No argument here,” Fitzpatrick said.
Steve straightened up in his chair, pointed his finger at Fitzpatrick. “But you’re not on the hook, and you don’t have to be,” he said. “That’s the saving grace. If I’d told you, you’d be in the soup. But I didn’t. You didn’t know any of this. You can testify to that, and Mark and I will back you up.”
“Fat lot of good that will do.”
Steve shook his head. “You’re wrong. You don’t have to take the fall for this, Fitzpatrick. You stand up in court tomorrow, you tell the judge all this comes as a complete surprise to you. You were caught flat-footed, taken aback and feel you cannot continue with the proceedings. You ask permission to withdraw from the case.”
Fitzpatrick shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m mad as hell, but I’m not a quitter. That would be unfair to our client and unfair to you.” He pointed his finger at Steve. “Don’t make any mistake, I’m pissed as hell. If you think I’d ever handle another case with you, you’re out of your mind. But as far as this case goes, I’m sticking it out, sink or swim. So get your shit together and figure out what the hell you’re gonna do. On the off chance you should happen to, do me the favor of letting me know.”
Fitzpatrick stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my firm and see if I’m still senior partner or if the other partners got together and voted me out.”
Fitzpatrick pushed past Tracy Garvin and went out, slamming the door.
“Can’t blame him a bit,” Steve said.
Taylor sighed. “That’s a fact. Oh, Jesus Christ, what the hell are we going to do?”
“It’s bad, Mark, but it ain’t over yet.”
Taylor collapsed into the chair. “That’s easy for you to say. You know the law. I don’t know shit. The way I see it, they got me dead to rights, I lost my license, and I’m up shit creek.”
“You haven’t lost anything yet.”
“So what’s my defense? The devil made me do it? My attorney made me do it? That ain’t gonna cut no ice.”
“I know how you feel.”
Taylor looked at him. “Do you? You’re an actor all your life. You’re used to losing one job after another, bouncing from place to place. Me, what do I know? Football and this. If it weren’t for the injury, if I’d played pro a year or two, I could have had a name, maybe opened a small restaurant. Or got a job on the radio doin’ play-by-play. As it is, this is all I know. Fifteen years now. I’m not trained for anything else.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know what the hell I’d do.”
“It ain’t over till it’s over.”
“Great. Thanks, Yogi. Sorry to piss and moan. You got your own problems. But, Jesus Christ.”
Taylor stood up. “I’m gonna get back to the office. See if anything’s come in that will help. Like a plane ticket out of the country.”
“It’s not that bad, Mark.”
“No,” Taylor said flatly. “Of course not.”
Mark Taylo
r went out. Steve leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Tracy standing next to him. Her eyes were misted over. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I know,” Steve said. He sighed. “It’s my own damn fault. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“No. You should. You did right.”
Steve looked at her. “I did?”
“Of course you did. You have to fight for your client. That comes first.”
Steve looked at her for a moment. Chuckled. Shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” Tracy said.
“You. That’s the thing about you. You think I did right because you like our client. That’s the bottom line. You like her, so anything I did for her is okay in your book. If you didn’t like her, you’d think I was a total schmuck. Remember how you felt in the Jeremy Dawson case?”
“You didn’t do anything like this in the Jeremy Dawson case.”
“That’s for damn sure. If I had, you’d have pinned my ears back but good.” Steve exhaled heavily. “Jesus, what a fucking mess.”
“So what can you do?” Tracy said.
“Do?”
“Yeah,” Tracy said. “We’ve been kicked in the teeth and we all feel bad. But it’s not like you to just quit. So tell me, what the hell can you do?”
Steve shook his head. “I don’t know. Believe me, I really don’t know.” He rubbed his head, then looked back up at her. Managed a small smile. “The way I see it, there’s only one saving grace in the whole thing.”
Tracy frowned. “What’s that?”
“Dirkson reopened his case.”
43.
JUDGE WALLINGSFORD LOOKED DOWN FROM his bench at the packed courtroom. He frowned, cleared his throat. “All right,” he said. “Before we bring in the jury and proceed, let’s attempt to determine where we are. Mr. Dirkson, when we left off yesterday you had just completed your direct examination of the witness, Marcie Keller.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Where is the witness now?”
“She is in police custody, Your Honor.”
“Has she been charged?”
“She is being held as a material witness.”
“But she’s already been a witness.”
“It’s entirely possible we may recall her, Your Honor. It’s also entirely possible she may be charged.”
“With what?”
“Withholding evidence. Obstruction of justice. Aiding and abetting. Possibly even as an accessory to the crime.”
“But she has not been charged as yet?”
“No, Your Honor. Nor have any of the other principals in this matter. Mark Taylor, Steve Winslow or Harold Fitzpatrick.”
Judge Wallingsford frowned. Steve Winslow rose to his feet. Judge Wallingsford held up his hand. “Hold on, Mr. Winslow. I’ll handle this.” Judge Wallingsford turned back to Dirkson. His face was stern. “Mr. Dirkson, this is neither the proper time nor the proper place for such remarks. Remarks that have no bearing on the present proceedings and were in my opinion intended solely for the benefit of the public and the press. What you have alluded to may be a matter for the Bar Association, but it has no place here. And I warn you, if you make any remarks of that kind in the presence of the jury, any allegations of misconduct about the defense attorneys, any allusions to the fact that they might possibly be charged with a crime, you would be in serious danger of forcing me to declare a mistrial. You are the district attorney, and I should not have to point this out to you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Now, if you were informing me that charges had been brought, that is something I might need to know. But alluding to the fact that charges might be brought is the type of insinuation and innuendo that is associated with the tabloid press and has no place in my courtroom. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Fine,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Let’s see if we can proceed. Two days ago the defendant was on the stand and had concluded her direct examination. Due to the peculiar turns this case has taken, she has yet to be cross-examined by the prosecution. I would hope that could be accomplished this morning, once these other matters have been set aside.
“When we left off yesterday, the witness Marcie Keller was on the stand, and had concluded her direct examination. You say she is in police custody, Mr. Dirkson?”
“That’s right, Your Honor.”
“I trust she is available to us?”
“Certainly, Your Honor. The officers are just awaiting your order to bring her in.”
“Fine. Before we do so—Mr. Winslow, Mr. Fitzpatrick, may I ask if you intend to cross-examine this witness?”
Steve Winslow stood up. “We do not, Your Honor.”
“That simplifies things,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Then there is no need to have her in. Bring in the jury, and return the defendant to the stand.”
Steve Winslow was still on his feet. “Before you do, Your Honor, while I have no questions of Miss Keller, at this time I would like to recall one of the other prosecution witnesses for cross-examination.”
Dirkson jumped up. “Objection, Your Honor. That’s out of order. The prosecution has rested its case.”
“You reopened your case to put Marcie Keller on the stand, and you’ve not yet rested it again. I think the court reporter will bear me out on that.”
“Well, I’m resting it now.”
“You can’t do that. I’ve already made my request to recall one of your witnesses.”
“Your Honor, he’s out of order,” Dirkson said. “I insist you rule I’ve rested my case, and return the defendant to the stand. There is no precedent for him recalling another prosecution witness now.”
“The order of proof is at the discretion of the court, Your Honor,” Steve Winslow said. “The prosecutor interrupted the defendant’s testimony to put on this witness out of order. To do so, he reopened his case. I must say that the unusual and unorthodox production of this testimony has caught me completely by surprise and forced me to reevaluate my case.”
“Nonsense,” Dirkson said. “How can he stand up here and say that when he knew about this witness all along, and he was the one who concealed her from me?”
“That’s not at issue, Your Honor,” Steve said. “As Your Honor has said, that is a matter for the Bar Association. What is at issue is that the prosecutor rested his case, and on the basis of that I decided to put the defendant on the stand. Now, before cross-examining her, the prosecutor has chosen to reopen his case. I submit, Your Honor, that for all the district attorney’s bluster, this was done for no practical purpose except to embarrass the defense in general and me in particular.”
“Nonsense,” Dirkson said. “This is a material witness with pertinent information that had previously been withheld.”
Steve smiled. “Perhaps,” he said. “But Your Honor will note, there was actually no new information elicited from this witness. There is nothing in Marcie Keller’s testimony that had not already been testified to on the witness stand by the defendant. The supposedly damaging facts she’s testified to are things we’ve already cheerfully admitted. Therefore, I submit that the production of this witness was not made in good faith for the purpose of bringing out new evidence against the defendant, but was totally for the purpose of laying the groundwork for charges against the witness herself and the attorneys for the defense.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Dirkson said. “Eyewitness testimony is always pertinent and admissible, even in the event the defendant has already admitted the crime.”
“Let’s try not to go off on a tangent,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Mr. Winslow, specifically, what is it you contend?”
“I contend that the witness Marcie Keller was put on out of order. I also contend that had she been part of the prosecution’s original case, I would have cross-examined the witnesses differently than I had, before I put the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, on the stand. I
t’s too late to correct that now—her direct examination has already been given. But I feel at the very least I should be given an opportunity to augment my cross-examination of one of the prosecution’s witnesses before the prosecutor uses this irregular testimony of Marcie Keller to cross-examine the defendant.”
“Mr. Winslow. Do you have some definite purpose in mind?”
“Absolutely, Your Honor. It is crucial to my case to be allowed to cross-examine a witness at this time.”
“I submit, Your Honor,” Dirkson said, “that that is absolute nonsense, if not an out-and-out lie. The defense attorney has used every stalling tactic he can think of to keep me from cross-examining the defendant. This is merely another one of them. I submit that his only real intention here is to postpone the moment when I get to cross-examine the defendant on the stand. He is so desperate to avoid that, he is willing to try anything. If you allow him to recall one witness, he’ll recall them all. And keep on recalling them until we have to adjourn and the case goes over the weekend.”
Steve Winslow held up his hand and shook his head. “I give you my assurance, Your Honor, that this is not the case. I wish to recall one witness only, and my cross-examination will be brief. And as to the allegation that I am unwilling to let the prosecutor cross-examine the defendant, that simply isn’t so. The defendant has told the absolute truth, and no cross-examination can hurt her. And as proof of this, let me state that if the prosecutor is willing to let me recall one of his witnesses for a brief cross-examination, I am willing to stipulate that when he cross-examines the defendant, the defense will not raise a single objection to any of his questions, whatever they may be.”
Judge Wallingsford frowned. “This is entirely irregular, Mr. Winslow.”
Dirkson was waving his hands. “Your Honor. Your Honor. One moment. On consideration, the prosecution is inclined to accept that stipulation.”
Judge Wallingsford looked at him with exasperation. “Well, the court is not. I don’t care what the prosecutor and the defense attorneys are willing to do, the court is not going to allow a defendant’s rights to be stipulated away in that manner. I must say, if the defense attorney refuses to object, the court will impose objections for him. Is that clear?”
