by Parnell Hall
“Mr. Bowers, where were you on the night of June twenty-eighth between the hours of eleven and twelve?”
Bowers smiled. “I’m an actor. I was onstage in an off-Broadway production.”
“At eleven o’clock at night? Isn’t that long for a play to run?”
“It’s a cabaret piece. It runs an hour and fifteen minutes. We do two shows a night, one at nine and one at eleven.”
“So you were onstage that night from eleven o’clock until twelve-fifteen?”
“That’s right.”
“Thank you. That’s all.”
Fitzpatrick looked over at Winslow.
“Take him,” Steve said.
Fitzpatrick rose, crossed to the witness. He frowned and said, “Mr. Bowers, I’m not sure what you and Mr. Dirkson were getting at in the latter part of your testimony. Perhaps you could clarify it for me. Is it your contention that you could not have taken Herbert Clay’s gun and killed David Castleton because at the time of the murder you were onstage performing in cabaret theater?”
Bowers smiled and shrugged. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Yes and no, Mr. Bowers. If what you say is true, you couldn’t have fired the fatal shot. But you certainly could have taken the gun. Isn’t that right?”
Bowers frowned. “No. I didn’t take it.”
“But you had the opportunity to, didn’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“There’s no supposing about it. How long was it from the time Herbert Clay went to jail to the time the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder showed up to pack up his room?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Was it over a year?”
“Yes, it was.”
“And during that time Herbert Clay was in prison?”
“Yes, he was.”
“And during that time you were the sole occupant of that apartment?”
“That’s right.”
“Then when you say you suppose you had an opportunity to take the gun, that’s a pretty fair supposition, isn’t it?”
“Objection.” Dirkson said.
“Sustained.”
“Did you have the opportunity to take the gun?”
Bowers took a breath. “Yes, I did. But I didn’t take it.”
“I’m not saying you did, Mr. Bowers. I’m just saying you had the opportunity. That’s true, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. Now, Mr. Bowers, during that time over a year when you were the only occupant of the apartment, the time during which you admit you had an opportunity to take the gun, did you ever search Herbert Clay’s room?”
Bowers hesitated. “No, I did not.”
“Perhaps you object to the word search. Did you ever look in Herbert Clay’s room?”
“I looked in a couple of times.”
“Did you? Good. Maybe you can help us here. You’ve testified that when Herbert Clay came home he sometimes left his gun on top of his dresser, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Now, on these occasions when you happened to look into Herbert Clay’s room-referring now to the time when you were the sole occupant of the apartment after he’d been sent to prison-on those occasions did you happen to see the gun on the dresser?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Are you testifying that the gun was not on the dresser?”
“No, just that I don’t recall seeing it.”
“If the gun had been on the dresser, you’d have seen it, wouldn’t you?”
“Objection. Argumentative.”
“Sustained.”
“Was the gun on the dresser?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you recall specifically looking at the dresser?”
“No, I do not.”
“Is there anything you do recall specifically looking at?”
“No. I tell you I just looked in the room. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular.”
“Did you look in the dresser drawers?”
“No, I did not.”
“Never opened them?”
“No.”
“After Herbert Clay went to jail, you never saw the gun again?”
“No, I did not.”
“Then you have no knowledge whatsoever whether that gun was in your apartment?”
Bowers frowned. “No. I do not.”
Fitzpatrick smiled. “Thank you. That’s all.”
Judge Wallingsford glanced at the clock. “It is approaching the hour of noon recess. I’m going to break now, and we’ll resume at two o’clock.”
35
When court reconvened,Dirkson called Phil Danby to the stand.
“Mr. Danby,” Dirkson began, “are you connected with Castleton Industries?”
“Yes. I’ve been employed by them for the past fifteen years.”
“In what capacity?”
“My title is business manager, but I serve in several capacities. Chief among them is being personal assistant to Milton Castleton.”
“You are referring to Milton Castleton, retired head of Castleton Industries, the grandfather of the decedent, David Castleton?”
“That’s right. Up until his retirement, I served as his personal assistant at the company. Since his retirement, I have served as his liaison to the company.”
“Am I to assume that, though retired, Mr. Castleton still has an active role in the business?”
Danby smiled. “I think that would be a safe assumption.”
“Mr. Danby, where do you work?”
“I divide my time between Mr. Castleton’s office, which is in his apartment, and the company itself. I am, as I said, his liaison.”
“And you still have an active role in the company?”
Danby smiled. “Very much so.”
“Mr. Danby, are you familiar with the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder?”
“Yes, I am.”
“How did you happen to meet her?”
“Mr. Castleton is currently writing his memoirs and employing secretaries to type them. He advertised in the Times and she answered the ad.”
“She came to apply for the job?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me, did she give you the name Kelly Wilder?”
“No.”
“Or Kelly Clay?”
“No.”
“What name did she give you?”
“Kelly Blaine.”
“Kelly Blaine?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me, did she get the job?”
“Yes, she did.”
“She went to work for Castleton Industries?”
“No, for Milton Castleton. The writing of his memoirs he considered a personal matter, not a function of the company.”
“Then he was employing her and paying her salary, rather than the company?”
“That’s right.”
“So where was she working?”
“In an office in his apartment.”
“How long did she work for Milton Castleton?”
“About two weeks.”
“And during that time did she ever meet Milton Castleton?”
“No, she did not. Her dealings were entirely with me.”
“Tell me, Mr. Danby, at the time of David Castleton’s death, was Kelly Clay Wilder still working for Milton Castleton?”
“No, she was not.”
“How did that employment come to be terminated?”
Danby took a breath. “It was on the afternoon of June twenty-first. Milton Castleton was not there. He was off at a doctor’s appointment. Kelly Wilder was in her office, typing at her word processor.”
“She had her own office?”
“Yes, she did.”
“Go on.”
“I was in Milton Castleton’s office next door. Looking up some facts on his computer. And I happened to notice Miss Wilder through the window.”
“The window?”
“Yes. Mr. Castleton’s of
fice and Miss Wilder’s office were side by side. There was a window between them.”
“You saw her through the window?”
“Yes.”
“Could she see you?”
“No. It’s a one-way glass.”
“What caught your attention at the time?”
“The screen of her word processor.”
“What about it?”
“I have to explain. She was supposed to be typing memoirs. In other words, prose. But that wasn’t what was on the screen of her terminal. From that distance, I could tell exactly what it was, but I could tell it wasn’t prose. Screens were coming on, one after another, with symbols and instructions on them. That doesn’t happen when you’re typing. That happens when you’re working in the Disk Operating System of the computer.”
“Had Kelly Wilder any reason to be working in the Disk Operating System?”
“Absolutely none. Her job was simply to use a word processor that was functioning as a typewriter.”
“I see. And from this, what conclusion did you draw?”
“Objection,” Fitzpatrick said.
“Sustained.
Steve Winslow leaned across Kelly Wilder, tugged Fitzpatrick’s arm. “Let this go in,” he whispered.
Dirkson thought a moment. “Tell me, at that time, in your own mind, did you form any opinion about the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what was that?”
“She was an industrial spy.”
“That was your evaluation of her?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Can you tell me why you formed that opinion?”
“I could think of no other reason why she would be playing with the computer terminal.”
“That terminal was hooked into the main computer?”
“Yes, it was.”
“It would have access to the records of Castleton Industries?”
“Absolutely. The computer in Milton Castleton’s office carried all the data of the entire company.”
“Does Castleton Industries have industrial secrets worth stealing?”
Fitzpatrick looked at Winslow. Steve shook his head. “Let it go in.”
Danby smiled. “I would imagine a competitor would pay a small fortune to get the inside track on Castleton Industries.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “So how did you feel when you saw this?”
“I was outraged, of course. You have to understand. I have a great sense of loyalty to Castleton Industries and Milton Castleton.”
“So what did you do?”
“I tried to stop her.”
“How?”
“I ran out of the office to her office door. I took out a key and unlocked it.”
“The door was locked?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“That was one of the specifications of the employment. That she would work alone in an office with the door locked.”
Dirkson nodded, as if that arrangement were perfectly reasonable, and did not follow up on the subject. “I see,” he said. “So you unlocked the door and opened it?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you find?”
“Miss Wilder was sitting at the word processor. When she saw me, she leapt up.”
“What did you do?”
“I made for the machine.”
“What did she do?”
“When she saw what I was doing she lunged for the machine, pressed a button on the keyboard.”
“What happened?”
“Whatever had been on the screen disappeared and was replaced by the page she’d been typing.”
“Did you get a look at what had been on the screen before?”
“No, I did not.”
“What did you do then?”
“I confronted her, demanded to know what she’d been doing.”
“Did she answer?”
“No, she didn’t. She kept backing away from me, around the desk.”
“What did you do?”
“I followed her.”
“What happened then?”
“When the desk was between me and the door, she turned and ran.”
“Out the door?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I chased her.”
“What did she do?”
“Ran down the hall and out the front door of the apartment.”
“What did you do then?”
“I ran to the front door. By the time I got there, she was gone.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “Tell me, Mr. Danby. What was the defendant wearing at that time?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“She was naked.”
“Naked? And why was that?”
“That was one of the requirements of the job. Mr. Castleton’s secretaries typed nude. That was why it was specified they would work alone in their own office with the door locked.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “So for the two weeks the defendant had been working there, she had been working naked?”
“That is right.’
“She was naked when you confronted her and accused her of being an industrial spy?”
“That’s right.”
“She was naked when she ran out of her office and out the front door?”
“Yes, she was.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “Tell me, Mr. Danby. From the time she ran out the front door of Milton Castleton’s apartment, did you ever see the defendant again?”
Danby shook his head. “Not until today.”
“Let me ask you this. Did you ever talk to her again?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And when was that?”
“The first time was on June twenty-seventh.”
“The day before David Castleton was killed?”
“That’s right.”
“And how did that happen?”
“She called the office.”
“Mr. Castleton’s office?”
“Yes.”
“Who answered the phone?”
“I did.”
“And it was the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Did she identify herself?”
“Not as Kelly Wilder. She identified herself as Kelly Blaine.”
“Which was the name you’d known her by?”
“Yes.”
“What did she want?”
“She wanted to talk to Mr. Castleton.”
“Did she talk to Mr. Castleton?”
“No. I told her she couldn’t talk to him, she’d have to talk to me.”
“What did she do?”
“She said, ‘Too bad,’ and hung up.”
“What happened then?”
“She called back an hour later.”
“What did she want?”
“The same thing. To talk to Mr. Castleton.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That if she’d come to the apartment, Mr. Castleton would be willing to talk to her.”
“I assume you’d conferred with Mr. Castleton in the meantime?”
“Yes, I had.”
“What did she say to that?”
“She wouldn’t do it. She said she wanted to meet Mr. Castleton alone in a public place. I told her that was out of the question. Mr. Castleton was in poor health, he wasn’t going to meet her in a public place and certainly not alone.”
“What happened then?”
“She said ‘Too bad,” and hung up.
“Did she call back again?”
“Yes, she did.”
“What happened in that conversation?”
“She repeated her demands. I told her they were out of the question. Then I suggested a compromise.”
“What was that?”
“While Mr. Castleton couldn’t go and meet her, he would send his grandson, David, in his place.”
“Wha
t did she say to that?”
“We talked about it some, and the end result was she agreed to the arrangement.”
“She agreed to meet David Castleton?”
“That’s right.”
“And this was on June twenty-eighth, the day he was killed?”
“That’s right.”
“And that was the last time you talked to the defendant?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Then let me ask you this. Did you speak to David Castleton on June twenty-eighth?”
“Yes, I did.”
“At what point did you speak to him?”
“After the last phone call from the defendant, I conferred with Milton Castleton, then I called David Castleton on the phone.”
“Called him where?”
“At work. At his office. At Castleton Industries.”
“What did you tell him at that time?”
“I told him it had been arranged for him to meet the defendant that evening, and immediately after work he should come by his grandfather’s apartment to confer with me and Milton Castleton and then go meet the defendant.”
“Did he agree to this?”
“Of course.”
“Did he come to Milton Castleton’s apartment?”
“Yes, he did.”
“What time was that?”
“Around five-fifteen.”
“He met with Milton Castleton at that time?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Were you present at that meeting?”
“Yes, I was.”
Dirkson turned to Judge Wallingsford. “Your Honor, I maintain that the conference between David Castleton and his grandfather, Milton Castleton, on the evening of David Castleton’s death is part of the res gestae and therefore admissible in evidence.”
Judge Wallingsford frowned. “So far, there’s been no objection from the defense. Let’s proceed, and deal with this if and when there is one.”
“Very well,” Dirkson said. He turned back to the witness. “Now, Mr. Danby, what was the substance of that meeting between David Castleton, Milton Castleton and yourself?”
“It was in the nature of a briefing.”
“A briefing?”
“Yes. We told him what was going to happen and what we expected him to do.”
“Which was?”
“Primarily, to find out who she was and what she wanted.”
“And why was that?”
“Well, you have to understand. At this time, we had no idea who the defendant was. We knew her only as Kelly Blaine. And we knew that name was bogus.”
“How did you know that?”
“Because we’d tried to get in touch with her and failed. The name she gave us was obviously bogus. The address she gave us did not exist.”
