Presumed Puzzled

by Parnell Hall

  “So you let her get away.”

  “But I didn’t. I nailed her on the witnesses. That’s not just for show. Burning the puzzle is her alibi. That’s what puts her at the mall instead of home, stabbing her husband. If her alibi holds up, we’re sunk. That’s why I’m making a big deal of it. Everything I said in court was true. Henry Firth’s got a problem with the alibi witnesses. There are none. If her alibi falls apart, we’ve got the reasonable doubt we need to win this case.”

  Cora looked at Becky. “That’s what it’s come to? Reasonable doubt?”

  “You were hoping for a courtroom confession?”

  “No, of course not. But I was hoping for a reasonable explanation.”

  “Me, too. But I’ll take an unreasonable one if I can’t get it. Right now I’m trying to break the prosecutor’s flow and force him to put Ken Jessup on the stand.”

  “Why would he? You saw him in court. He’s obviously a bad witness. He was Roger Martindale’s friend. He thought his wife killed him. He probably still does. At any rate, he hates her a lot. He’s not going to back up her alibi, and he may blow it up.”

  “Yeah. If the prosecutor doesn’t call him, I will. But then he’s a rebuttal witness. If he discredits her story as a prosecution witness, that’s gold. That’s why I’m daring Henry Firth to put him on the stand. You know it, I know it, the judge knows it, and everyone in the courtroom knows it. If Henry Firth doesn’t call him now, it will look like he doesn’t dare. And the pendulum swings in our favor.”

  “Good God,” Cora said. “Did you really say ‘the pendulum swings in our favor’?”

  “Sorry,” Becky said. “This case is getting to me.”

  “It’s getting to you?”

  “Anyway, Ken Jessup is a bully and coward. You saw how quickly he caved when the bailiff showed up. So did Henry Firth. He’s working on him now. If Jessup holds out on him, which I’m hoping he will, Henry Firth won’t dare put him on the stand.”

  Becky checked her watch. “Well, recess is almost over. This will tell the story. If Henry Firth asks questions on redirect, trying to suck me into questioning Paula about finding the body, we’ll know his case is shaky, that Ken Jessup isn’t going to do him any good. Then we’re in business.”

  “What if he calls him to the stand?”

  “Then we’re screwed.”

  Chapter

  45

  When court reconvened Judge Hobbs said, “Now then, the witness Paula Martindale was on the stand and Ms. Baldwin had just completed her cross-examination. Mr. Firth, do you have any redirect?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “Very well. The witness is excused. Call your next witness.”

  “Call Ken Jessup.”

  Becky and Cora exchanged glances.

  “Should I write my will?” Cora said.

  “Shhh.”

  A rather contrite-looking Ken Jessup was led in and took the stand.

  Henry Firth approached him. “Your name is Ken Jessup?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know Roger Martindale in his lifetime?”

  “Yes. I was his friend.”

  “Did you know his wife, Paula Martindale?”

  “Yes. She is not my friend.”

  “But you knew her on sight?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Directing your attention to the day Roger Martindale was killed: Were you at the mall that day?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You have no idea?”

  “It’s a long time ago. I don’t remember.”

  “It was a particular day. I’m sure you remember getting the news Roger had been killed. Wouldn’t that heighten your memory with regard to where you were that day, and when?”

  “Perhaps. But I don’t remember.”

  “Mr. Jessup, on the witness stand Paula Martindale testified that she was sitting in a parked car outside of Walmart and you looked at her face.”

  “I am not responsible for what Paula Martindale may or may not have testified. But I know she wasn’t at the mall that night.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because she was home killing her husband.”

  Henry Firth smiled grimly. “Permission to treat the witness as hostile, Your Honor?”

  “Granted.”

  “Mr. Jessup, on the day you heard Roger Martindale had been killed, did you know that he’d been missing?”

  The witness hesitated.

  “If you were a friend of his, I would think you had. It had been over twenty-four hours. He’d been placed on the missing persons list. So if you saw his wife sitting alone in a parked car with the window down at a shopping mall, wouldn’t you think it had something to do with his disappearance?”

  Ken Jessup took a breath, glowered at the prosecutor.

  “Mr. Jessup?”

  “You’re the one making that connection, not me.”

  “Let me put it this way, Mr. Jessup. You claim you didn’t see Paula Martindale sitting alone in a parked car at the mall on the evening of his husband’s murder. Did you ever see Paula Martindale sitting alone in a parked car at the mall in front of Walmart?”

  Ken Jessup’s eyes shifted.

  “Oh? You remember something?”

  “I remember seeing her sitting in a parked car in the parking lot. But I don’t recall what night it was.”

  “But you recall the incident? You walked by. She was looking out the window. She looked straight at you. And you looked straight at her.”

  “You’re making too much of it.”

  “Did it happen, yes or no?”

  “Yes, it happened. But I have no idea when.”

  “According to Paula Martindale, you walked by just before she burned a crossword puzzle. On the occasion you remember, did Paula Martindale burn anything?”

  “No, she did not.”

  “Did she stick anything out the window?”

  “Her head.”

  Laughter rocked the courtroom. Henry Firth waited until it subsided, said, “Aside from that. Did she stick her arm out? Did she stick out her hand with anything in it?”

  “If she did, I didn’t see it.”

  “After you walked past her car, what did you do?’

  “Got in my car and went home.”

  “On your way out of the parking lot, did you drive past Paula Martindale’s car?”

  “I must have.”

  “Did you see her sitting there?”

  “I have no recollection of seeing her at all.”

  “As you drove by her car, did you see an old man in the road?”

  Ken Jessup’s eyes shifted.

  “You remember now?”

  “No, I don’t remember now.”

  “You reacted to my question about the old man.”

  “I reacted to the words ‘old man.’ Because of a separate incident. I was driving out of the parking lot and an old man staggered in front of my car. I had to slow down and wait for him to get out of the way.”

  “As you were passing Paula Martindale’s car?’

  “I have no idea where and when it happened. I only know it happened driving out of the parking lot. I don’t think the one thing had anything to do with the other. But when you mention an old man walking in front of my car, that’s the image that I see.”

  “Is that old man in the courtroom?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “I don’t know his name. I’ve seen him around town. I don’t want to slander anyone, but it occurs to me he might have occasionally had a drink or two. That was undoubtedly the case when he lurched in front of my car.”

  “Would that be Luke Haslett?”

  Jessup frowned. “I believe that’s his name.”

  Henry Firth turned to the judge. “Your Honor: In view of the testimony of this witness, I would ask for an adjournment until tomorrow to allow me to locate this witness, Luke Haslett.”

  “No objection,
Your Honor,” Becky said.

  “Very well. Court is adjourned until ten tomorrow.”

  Chapter

  46

  Luke Haslett did not look like the ideal witness. Red, bleary eyes, runny nose, scraggly hair, unshaven face. His teeth were yellow and crooked. One was missing, an upper molar, close enough to the front to provide an unattractive gap. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, his shirt untucked, his zipper only half up. Sitting there in the prosecutor’s office, he looked like a trapped rat.

  Henry Firth regarded him with distaste. “Mr. Haslett, do you know why you’re here?”

  “Got arrested.”

  “You’re not arrested, Mr. Haslett.”

  “I can go?”

  “We want to ask you a few questions.”

  “I’m not under arrest?”

  “You’re not under arrest.”

  “If I’m under arrest I don’t have to answer questions. That’s the law.”

  “Yes, Mr. Haslett. But you’re not under arrest. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I can go?”

  “You can’t go. You’re a witness.”

  Haslett’s forehead crinkled into a frown. “Huh?”

  “We’re not asking about what you did. We’re asking about what you saw.”

  “Didn’t see nothing.”

  Henry Firth took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe what a long shot this was becoming. “Mr. Haslett, were you ever at the Bakerhaven mall?”

  “Didn’t do nothing.”

  “No one says you did. Do you remember walking through the parking lot?”

  “Whole mall’s a parking lot.”

  “Mr. Haslett, do you know Paula Martindale?”

  “Who?”

  “Paula Martindale. Her husband was killed.”

  “Didn’t do it!”

  “We know you didn’t do it. It’s his wife we’re talking about. Paula Martindale. She was sitting in a car at the mall. Do you remember walking by the car and seeing her sitting there?”

  “Don’t know who she is.”

  Henry Firth’s heart sank. “Mr. Haslett, did a car almost hit you?”

  “Damn driver!”

  “A driver almost hit you?”

  “Yelled at him.”

  “You remember the car? What kind of car was it?”

  Haslett’s brow furrowed furiously in concentration. He nodded his head. “Burning.”

  Henry Firth’s mouth fell open. He was almost afraid to ask the question, not wanting to break the spell. “Something was burning?”

  Haslett nodded, more to himself than in answer to the question.

  “Paper.”

  Chapter

  47

  Crowley scooped up the phone in his office. “Crowley,” he growled.

  “Felton,” Cora growled back.

  “Sorry,” Crowley said. “Expecting some calls. None I wanna get.”

  “You coulda fooled me,” Cora said.

  “What’s up, kid?”

  “Things are not going well. Becky’s in a bind. Her investigator’s on trial, which leaves her short one investigator.”

  “You couldn’t just ask me for a favor?”

  “Was I that obvious?”

  “You sound like you’re stoically joking in the face of death. You guys get a kick in the chops?”

  Cora brought him up to date on the events in court.

  “Could be worse,” Crowley said. “What do you need from me?”

  “Luke Haslett is the town drunk. It would be a miracle if he remembers anything at all. The way my luck’s been running, he probably took a selfie in front of the burning puzzle.”

  “So whaddya want?”

  “I need to know before we go to court. Chief Harper wouldn’t tell me. He might tell you.”

  “He knows I’d just tell you.”

  “Exactly.”

  Crowley thought that over. “He’s not going to be happy about it.”

  “I imagine not.”

  “Call you back.”

  “I’m on Becky Baldwin’s cell phone. The number’s—”

  “I got it.”

  Cora handed the phone back to Becky. She put it down on the Country Kitchen bar and picked up her drink. “You think he’ll get it?”

  Cora shrugged. “There’s a chance. Harper can’t be happy about the situation. He’d love to tip me off as long as it wouldn’t come back and bite him in the ass. Besides, it’s a negative confirmation. It’s not revealing any information, it’s just confirming they don’t have any.”

  Becky fiddled with her drink. “Look, it’s none of my business—”

  “I hate it when people say that. It means they’re about to ask something that’s none of their business.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Yeah. It’s none of your business, but you’re going to ask it anyway.”

  “I’m your lawyer.”

  “You’re claiming it is your business?”

  “You were seeing Roger Martindale.”

  “Allegedly.”

  “Oh, come on, Cora, it’s just you and me. And I’m trying to think this thing out. Because you’re not thinking as clearly as your average tree slug. So, if everything you’re telling me is true—”

  “Why would I lie to you?”

  “I don’t know why you do half of what you do, Cora. I know you’re capable of anything.”

  “I’m not capable of killing Roger Martindale. Oh, all right, I am capable of it. But I wouldn’t do it.”

  “If he was threatening your family?”

  Cora told Becky what she thought of her hypothetical. Glasses on the shelf over the bar rattled.

  The cell phone rang. Becky reached for it, but Cora beat her to it.

  It was Crowley. “Bad news.”

  Cora’s face fell. “What?”

  “Harper wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  “We expected that.”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Crowley, I’m not in the mood.”

  “I know. I told him I knew he couldn’t tell me anything but I understood they picked up the town drunk, and there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell the guy knew anything. I figured he wouldn’t get in trouble for telling me there was nothing new when there was nothing new.”

  “And?”

  “He said he couldn’t tell me that.”

  Chapter

  48

  “It’s not so bad,” Sherry said.

  “What do you mean, it’s not so bad? My best defense all along has been that Paula Martindale is a better suspect. If she’s not a better suspect, I’m elected.”

  “But you don’t know this guy can place her at the mall.”

  “Yes, we do. If he couldn’t, Chief Harper would have said so.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a negative confirmation. It doesn’t say the guy’s a solid witness, it says he can’t be dismissed as knowing nothing at all. What little he does know will be shaky at best, almost certainly inconclusive. There’s no way he gives the woman a rock-solid alibi.”

  “It’s bad if he gives her anything at all. Becky doesn’t have a lot of cards to play. It’s bad news Ratface trumps her ace on the first trick.”

  “You’ve been playing too much bridge,” Sherry said.

  “Bridge,” Cora said.

  “What about it?”

  “I met Paula Martindale playing bridge. If I were thinking straight, the word ‘bridge’ would conjure up an association, set me on the right track. I’d solve this thing in no time.”

  “You can’t make an association if it isn’t there.”

  “That never stopped me before. But today? Absolutely nothing. I mean, what, the old man didn’t see Paula Martindale at the mall, he saw her crossing a bridge? Somehow, that doesn’t help me.”

  “All right, what does?”

  “I don’t know.” Cora glanced around. “You’re awfully quiet, Aaron. Got anything to contribute?”

  Aaron Grant was slumpe
d in a chair, idly playing with one of Jennifer’s dolls. He heaved a sigh. “I got nothing.”

  “Hey, take it easy,” Cora said. “You’re not the one going to jail.”

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to be insensitive. It’s just I can’t bear to write about this.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Cora said. “Well, I got good news for you. I didn’t do it. Ever since the case blew up, everyone’s been moping around as if I’m guilty. I’m a foolish old woman who got herself into a mess. But I’m innocent. Even if I’m convicted of this crime, I didn’t do it.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” Sherry said. “‘Even if I’m convicted.’”

  “Is it really so bad if they prove Paula Martindale didn’t do it?” Aaron said. “I mean, just because she didn’t do it doesn’t mean you did.”

  “I’m sure Becky will advance that theory,” Cora said. “And the odds of getting one person on the jury to believe it are probably only slightly worse than of winning the lottery.”

  “I’m glad Jennifer’s in bed,” Sherry said. “She’s too young to deal with terminal depression.”

  “Better start teaching her,” Cora said grimly.

  Chapter

  49

  Everyone in Bakerhaven was in the courthouse.

  With one exception.

  “Your Honor,” Henry Firth said, “before the jury is brought in, I have a matter to bring to your attention. Yesterday the name Luke Haslett came up in my direct examination of the witness Ken Jessup. Mr. Haslett was added to the prosecution’s list of witnesses, and he was duly served with a subpoena to appear in court this morning.”

  “Why are you bringing this to my attention?”

  “He’s not here, Your Honor. Officer Dan Finley went to his house to get him, but he’s not answering the door. I ask that Your Honor issue a bench warrant in his name, empowering Officer Finley to enter his house and bring him into court.”

  “So ordered. Is that all, Mr. Firth?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Bring in the jury.”