by Parnell Hall
“Particularly if you can get a shot of Becky showing a lot of leg,” Aaron said.
“Leg!”
“You do know when you get ecstatic about an old girlfriend’s physical attributes you’re in dangerous territory,” Cora said.
“Tory!”
“That’s half a word,” Cora said.
“I rest my case,” Sherry said.
Cora grimaced, shook her head. “No, no, no. If you start spouting courtroom expressions you’re just leading him on.”
Aaron turned to Cora. “What are you doing now,” the young reporter said, changing the subject.
“What do you mean?” Cora asked.
“For Becky? What are you doing for Becky? Aren’t you investigating the case for her?”
“I would be, if there were anything to investigate. Now that we’re in court, we’re counterpunching. The prosecutor’s gonna put on his case. Becky’s gonna want me to check out any evidence he produces. See if she can blunt the testimony of his witnesses.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Sherry said.
“What do you mean?”
“Ordinarily, you’d be looking for evidence the defendant was innocent. Or to prove someone else did it. But you’re not doing that. It’s almost as if you’ve conceded she’s guilty, and you’re just looking for mitigating circumstances or some legal technicality. Why aren’t you looking for the woman he was having an affair with? Wouldn’t that be the normal line of investigation?”
“In the first place, we don’t believe there is such a woman. And if we found her, what would you have us do with her? Turn her over to the prosecution? Give them the motive they’ve been lacking? Or hide her away so the prosecution can’t find her? There are penalties for concealing a witness. Some of them are rather harsh. Becky’s convinced there was no such woman. It’s in our interest to prove that’s true. Unfortunately, it’s very difficult to prove a negative.”
“So what’s Becky going to do?” Sherry said.
“I have no idea.”
“Will it be interesting at all?”
“Why?”
“I’m going again tomorrow. In the morning, at least. After I drop Jennifer at preschool.”
“School!” Jennifer said.
“She really likes school,” Cora said.
“What’s not to like? A bunch of kids her own age trashing a room.”
“Better theirs than ours,” Cora said. “Great. Sit in on court. It’ll be fun. Everyone loves a train wreck.”
“Is it that bad?” Sherry said.
Cora snorted. “Worse. Becky’s really screwed.”
“Screwed!”
Chapter
22
For his first witness Henry Firth called Chief Harper, who took the stand and testified to driving out to the Martindales’ house and finding the body.
“And what time was that?” Henry Firth asked.
“Around seven o’clock at night.”
“Was anyone with you at the time?”
“Cora Felton, the private investigator for the defense.”
“Were you there in your official capacity?”
“Yes, I was.”
“For what purpose?”
“Paula Martindale had reported her husband missing, and he’d been put on the missing persons list. In the course of the police investigation we discovered that Roger Martindale had left his car overnight in a garage in New York and had just picked it up. I called Paula Martindale to report this and got no answer. I’m a husband. I have a wife. If I stayed out all night, I imagine my wife would want to talk about it. I figured Roger and his wife might be having quite a conversation and weren’t answering the phone, so I decided to take a run out there.”
“Why? If he was already home, you didn’t need to tell her he’d been found.”
“If he was there I wanted to let him know just how the police felt about someone disappearing on a whim long enough to get put on the missing persons list.”
“And why did Cora Felton tag along with you?”
“She happened to be in the police station. When Paula Martindale reported her husband hadn’t come home, he wasn’t gone long enough to be listed as a missing person, so I couldn’t act on it. When Paula kept calling, I asked Cora as a favor to go talk to her. Cora had come in to report when we got the call Roger had been found.”
“So she went with you?”
“That’s right.”
“When you got there, what did you find?”
“The front door was ajar. Cora pushed it open and we went in. Moments later the defendant came out of the living room. She was covered in blood and had a large carving knife in her hand.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her to drop the knife.”
“Did she?”
“Not at first. Not even when I drew my gun. Cora Felton actually had to twist it out of her hand.”
“What happened then?”
“Cora restrained her, and I looked in the living room.”
“What did you find?”
“The decedent was lying in the middle of the living room rug. His chest had been hacked open, and he wasn’t breathing. I immediately called for medical assistance, but it was clear it would not do any good. I called for police assistance, and officers Dan Finley and Sam Brogan arrived on the scene shortly thereafter.”
“You asked the defendant what happened?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did she say?”
“She didn’t say anything.”
“What did you do then?”
“I placed the defendant in custody and held her for questioning.”
“Did you advise her of her rights?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did she make a statement?”
“No, she did not. She remained silent and requested an attorney.”
“Thank you, Chief. That’s all.”
Becky Baldwin stood up, smiled at the chief. “Chief Harper, I believe you testified that the decedent picked up his car from a garage in New York, is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“But you don’t actually know that, do you?”
“Ah, technically, I guess not. I’m relying on the investigation made by Dan Finley, one of my officers. I’m sure he’ll be out in a minute, if you want to ask him about it.”
“Thank you, I’ll do that,” Becky said. “No further questions.”
“Well, you’re actually going to get your opportunity,” Henry Firth said. “Call Officer Dan Finley.”
Dan Finley looked young on the witness stand. He had a certain eager, boyish quality that was accentuated by its contrast to the solemnity of the court. He had always reminded Cora of a schoolboy doing show-and-tell.
“Is he old enough to vote?” Cora whispered.
“Shhh!” Sherry hissed. She and Cora were in the front row, just behind the defense table. “Judge Hobbs will hear you.”
“That old codger? Isn’t he deaf?”
He might have been, but the bailiff wasn’t. He raised his finger to his lips, shushed Cora. She made a pooh-poohing gesture but complied. After her numerous appearances in court, Cora and the bailiff were friends.
Dan Finley testified to securing the crime scene, dusting for fingerprints, and taking photographs.
“Did you dust the murder weapon for fingerprints?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you find any?”
“Yes. There were several fingerprints on the handle and even a couple on the blade.”
“What did you do with them?”
“I photographed them in place, then lifted the prints and sent the photographs, lifts, and murder weapon to the lab.”
“Thank you, Officer Finley. Your witness.”
Becky stepped up. “Officer Finley, Chief Harper suggested you were the person to speak to about the decedent picking up his car from the garage. Was this on the same day that he was killed?”
“Yes,
it was. I found out Roger Martindale had picked up his car from a garage in New York. I told Chief Harper, and he went out to Martindale’s house and found him dead.”
“How soon after you told Chief Harper did he go out to the house?”
“Right away.”
“Right away?”
“Well, first he tried to call on the phone. When he got no answer, he went right out.”
“Cora Felton was with him at the time?”
“That’s right.”
“You came into his office, where he was talking with Cora Felton, and told him Roger Martindale had picked up his car from the garage?”
“That’s right.”
“How did you know?”
“What?”
“How did you know he had picked up his car?”
“Oh. Roger had just been put on the missing persons list and I was canvassing for information. I started covering all the garages in the vicinity of the office where he worked, and I got a hit. The garage man told me he’d just picked it up.”
“This was on the phone?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” Becky said. “So you don’t know he picked up his car, either.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“All you know is someone on the phone said he picked up his car. A nameless, faceless person you never met. You cite his words as gospel: Roger Martindale picked up his car. Tell me, Officer Finley, did your”—Becky made air quotes—“‘police investigation’ consist of anything more than making a phone call?”
“I learned it on the phone, yes.”
“From a garage attendant?”
“That’s right.”
“Have you ever met this garage attendant?”
“No, I have not.”
Becky nodded, turned away, walked toward the defense table as if she were done with her cross-examination. As Dan Finley started to get up from the stand, she turned back.
“Officer Finley, you say you processed the crime scene?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you search the body of the decedent?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you find?”
“His wallet was in his pocket. Along with his identification, including a photo ID. Not that we needed it. We knew Roger Martindale.”
“What else was in his pockets?”
“Cigarettes. A few tissues. Small change.”
“Was that all?”
“May I consult my notes?”
“Of course.”
Dan took out a small notebook, flipped it open. “Let’s see. Cigarettes, tissues, small change. A letter he hadn’t mailed. An interoffice memo and a small pad of paper.”
“Anything else?”
“No, that’s it.”
“You say a letter he hadn’t mailed. How do you know it was a letter he hadn’t mailed?”
Dan shrugged. “He still had it.”
Laughter rocked the courtroom. Judge Hobbs banged the gavel.
“I mean as opposed to a letter he had received.”
“Oh. It was addressed, stamped, sealed, ready to go. As opposed to postmarked, opened. Any of the things you would associate with a letter someone had gotten.”
“Who was the letter to?”
“It was a business letter. Paying a bill, I believe.”
“You said a notepad?”
“Yes.”
“What did he have to write in it, a pen or a pencil?”
“He didn’t have either one.”
“Oh. That’s a little strange, isn’t it?”
“Strange?”
“Well, how’s he going to write?”
Dan started to answer, stopped, put up his hands. With a good-natured grin he said, “I want to be careful not to say something funny here. I know this is a serious matter. I assume he had a pen or a pencil at his office. He just neglected to take one with him.”
“Uh huh. And you say he had cigarettes. What type of lighter?”
“He didn’t have a lighter.”
“Oh, he had matches?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Ah,” Becky said. “You assume he had matches at the office also?”
“I really have no idea. I assume his car had a cigarette lighter.”
“Oh. Good point,” Becky said. “And you found nothing else on the body of any interest?”
“No, I did not.”
“Thank you. That’s all.”
Dan Finley left the stand and Judge Hobbs declared a ten-minute recess.
Becky conferred with Cora at the rail. “I’m not getting anywhere.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“I was until Dan Finley got a laugh.”
“Act like you got a laugh. The jury will give you credit.”
“Are you telling me how to try a case?”
“No, I’m telling you how to do stand-up comedy. Come on, Becky. You’re usually good at this stuff. Don’t worry. I know what’s wrong.”
“Really? What?”
Cora leaned in, lowered her voice. “You don’t believe in your client and you don’t believe in your case.”
Becky looked at Cora, deadpanned, “Thanks. I needed that.”
Chapter
23
When court reconvened, Dr. Barney Nathan took the stand. He did so with confidence. Socially awkward, particularly around Cora Felton since their affair, he was calm and self-assured in court. The medical man was in his element, happy for an opportunity to flaunt his expertise. He rattled off his qualifications matter-of-factly, barely able to conceal how proud he actually was of them.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Henry Firth said. “And were you called to a crime scene to examine the body of the decedent, Roger Martindale?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Was he living?”
“He was not.”
“You pronounced him dead?”
“I did. Without hesitation. He had suffered several lacerations to the chest, a couple of which alone would have caused death, as well as several to the belly. There was extensive loss of blood, far too great for there to be any chance of life.”
“Did you subsequently perform an autopsy on the body of Roger Martindale?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What were the results of that autopsy?”
“Roger Martindale sustained extensive internal damage. Several of the wounds were in the heart, the aorta was severed, the right ventricle was punctured twice. By ‘punctured,’ I don’t mean a small, clean hole, as with an ice pick. I mean punctured as by a sharp, flat object that delivered a vertical slice.”
“You say the wounds were not consistent with a puncture by an ice pick?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. They were consistent with the stabbing of a knife.”
“The body was dead when you first examined it?”
“That’s right.”
“How long had it been dead?”
“Less than an hour. The body had barely begun to cool.”
“Thank you, Doctor. And aside from the wounds to the chest, were there any other wounds to the body?”
“There were not.”
“No defensive wounds on the hands or the arms?”
“None.”
“So the victim was surprised by the fatal blow?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Becky said. “If the prosecutor is going to testify, I ask that he be sworn.”
“Sustained,” Judge Hobbs said. “Mr. Firth, you know the proper time to argue your case, and it is not now. Please confine yourself to questioning the witness.”
“Yes, Your Honor. I have no further questions.”
Becky got up and approached the witness. One of the hazards of practicing in a small town was sometimes you knew the witnesses all too well. Becky’s name had once been linked to the doctor’s. It was fiction. Cora had created that illusion in order to hide her own fling with the married man. She had done it so effectively that some people still believe
d it to be true.
Becky smiled at the witness. “Good morning, Dr. Nathan. I have one or two questions regarding your testimony.”
“Of course.” Barney straightened his bow tie, gave every appearance of being attentive, impartial, fair-minded.
“I believe you stated that you pronounced Roger Martindale dead without hesitation.”
“That’s right.”
“You didn’t examine the body, you just walked in and said, ‘Oh, yeah, this guy’s dead’?”
“Of course not. ‘Without hesitation’ is just a figure of speech. There was no doubt about it. I examined the body and was quickly able to determine what even a layperson could see. The man was clearly dead.”
“And really most sincerely dead?” Becky said.
“Oh, Your Honor,” Henry Firth said. “Is defense counsel doing a stand-up routine or questioning the witness?”
“Ms. Baldwin,” Judge Hobbs said, “I’m sure I needn’t remind you this is no laughing matter.”
“I apologize, Your Honor, but I do mean to make a point. About the doctor’s rather cavalier attitude in assuming the man was dead.”
Judge Hobbs’s gavel cut off the doctor’s sputtering retort. “That will do. If you wish to make a point, do it by acceptable questions.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Dr. Nathan, you used the words ‘without hesitation’ as a figure of speech?”
“That’s right.”
“You didn’t literally mean without hesitation. You merely meant there was no question as to the matter, is that correct?”
“That’s right.”
“What other parts of your testimony are false?”
Barney’s mouth fell open. “None of my testimony is false!” he said indignantly.
“You said without hesitation, and you didn’t actually mean that. If you don’t like the word ‘false,’ what other parts of your testimony did you not actually mean?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is badgering the witness.”
“I think you’ve made your point, Ms. Baldwin.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Becky said. “But surely I have the right to question the testimony of a witness who doesn’t mean what he says.”
“And you’ve done that. Unless you have a specific point, move on.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Dr. Nathan, you testified that the victim had been killed within an hour of the time you examined the body.”
