SW06 - The Innocent Woman

by Parnell Hall

  “Philip Eckstein’s another story.”

  “Who?”

  “The guy he had the meeting with. The corroborating witness.” Taylor shook his head. “Now, there’s a winner. He’s a nerdy little twerp, shifty eyed, defensive. Might as well have I’m lying tattooed on his forehead.”

  “What’s he lying about?”

  “The time of the meeting. Cunningham told him he got there at eight-thirty, and damn it, that’s what he’s going to say. According to Eckstein, Cunningham called him around eight o’clock, said he’d meet him in half an hour. We all know that’s not true. He called him at seven-thirty, made the meeting for eight. You know it, I know it, the D.A. knows it, the jury’s, gonna know it. He’s the type of guy on cross-examination Dirkson can get him to say that the earth was flat.” Taylor shrugged. “Not that he needs to. Your client already told the cops she left the restaurant seven-thirty. So when these guys pull the number, they’re gonna look like they’re auditioning for the Amateur Hour.”

  “I know it, Mark. I wouldn’t put them on the stand if you paid me. What else you got?”

  Taylor leaned back, laced his fingers behind his head and smiled. “I got you a present.”

  Steve frowned. “What?”

  “You told me to check out the music store guy. Oliver Branstein.”

  “You got something?”

  “I’ll say. This goes back about a year ago. F.L. Jewelry, in the back room, got a sink for washing gold plate.”

  “Gold plate?”

  Taylor put up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know the mechanics. Anyway, that’s how I got the story. They got an industrial type sink in the back room. Big mother. Holds a shitload of water.”

  “Don’t tell me.”

  “That’s right. It overflowed, leaked into the music store downstairs. Ruined some valuable guitars.”

  “Branstein sued?”

  “Sure did.”

  “What happened to the suit?”

  “Still pending.”

  Tracy, who’d been sitting in the corner taking notes, put up her hand. “Whoa. Time out. You’re saying Oliver Branstein had a reason to kill Frank Fletcher?”

  “I’m not saying anything. I’m just reporting the facts.”

  “What about it, Steve?” Tracy persisted. “How does that add up?”

  Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s interesting as all hell. Branstein and Fletcher had an adversarial relationship. It may mean something, then again, it may not. But there’s one nice thing about it.”

  “What’s that?” Tracy said.

  “It’s something I can bring out in court.”

  36.

  WHEN COURT RECONVENED, JUDGE Wylie said, “When we left off yesterday, Sergeant Stams was on the stand and Mr. Winslow had just completed his cross-examination. Do you have any redirect, Mr. Dirkson?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Dirkson said. He got up and crossed to the witness stand. “Sergeant, going back to when you questioned the defendant in Mr. Lowery’s office. Could you refresh our recollection as to what the defendant told you was her reason for coming to the office on that night?”

  “Yes. She said she came to clean out her desk.”

  “That’s the only reason that she came? According to her statement?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Just briefly, could you explain the time schedule once more. According to her statement. With regard to when she left the restaurant, went home and went to the office.”

  “Yes,” Sergeant Stams said. “According to her, she left the restaurant at seven-thirty and went directly home to her apartment, which was two blocks away. She remained home until sometime later in the evening, when she got the idea to clean out her desk. She took a taxi down to the office for that purpose, arriving there at approximately ten o’clock. Whereupon she found the body and called the police.”

  “Let me be sure I’ve got this straight,” Dirkson said. “According to her, she left the restaurant at seven-thirty and arrived at the office at ten o’clock.”

  “That’s right.”

  “At seven-thirty she went directly home and remained home until she left for the office?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And the reason she went to the office was because she had decided to clean out her desk?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Thank you, sergeant. No further questions.”

  “Any recross?”

  “No questions, Your Honor,” Steve said.

  “The witness is excused.”

  “Call Officer Hanson.”

  Officer Hanson took the stand and testified to obtaining a warrant and searching the defendant’s apartment.

  “And what, if anything, did you find?”

  “I found a message on her answering machine.”

  “A message?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Could you tell if this message had been picked up?”

  “Objection.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Officer Hanson, could you describe the answering machine in question with regard to its function?”

  “Yes. It was the type of machine with a small red light. When the light is on, the machine is on, ready to receive calls. When the light is blinking, it means there’s been a call. One blink for one call, two blinks for two calls, and so on. If the light is steady, it means there have been no calls since the last time the answering machine was set.”

  “What was the condition of the light when you discovered the answering machine?”

  “It was on, but not blinking. It was steady.”

  “What did that indicate?”

  “That no one had called and left a message since the last time the answering machine was set.”

  “What, if anything, did you do with the answering machine?”

  “I pushed the play button to play back the messages.”

  “Despite the fact the light indicated there were none?”

  “Yes.”

  “And why was that?”

  “Because unless they had been deliberately erased, the last series of messages would be there. The way the machine works, when it’s reset, a new call will erase the old messages. Since no new call had come in, this hadn’t happened. So, unless someone had taken the time to erase the messages before resetting the machine—which people rarely do—the old messages would be there.”

  “And was that true in this case?”

  “Yes, it was. When I pushed play, there was a message on the machine.”

  “One message?”

  “That’s right. Only one.”

  “After you listened to this message, what did you do?”

  “I took possession of the micro-cassette.”

  “The micro-cassette?”

  “Yes. The one in the answering machine with the message recorded on it. I removed it from the machine at that time.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “To preserve it as evidence. If another call had come in, it would have recorded over it.”

  “You took possession of the micro-cassette?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Your Honor, I ask that this micro-cassette be marked for identification as People’s Exhibit Three.”

  “So ordered.”

  When the cassette had been marked, Dirkson approached the witness. “Officer Hanson, I hand you a micro-cassette marked for identification People’s Exhibit Three and ask you if it is the one you are referring to, the one you took possession of on that night.”

  Hanson took it, looked it over. “Yes, it is.”

  “And how do you recognize it?”

  “By my initials, which I marked on it in pen.” After a pause, Hanson said dryly, “I might add, this is the only micro-cassette I have ever marked my initials on.”

  That comment drew a roar from the spectators in the courtroom.

  Dirkson smiled. “I’m certainly glad to hear that,” he said. “Your
Honor, at this time I’m going to ask that this micro-cassette be played for the jury.”

  “How long will it take you to set up?” Judge Wylie asked.

  “I’m ready now,” Dirkson said. He indicated the prosecution table, where his trial deputies had set up a tape deck and speaker and were in the process of plugging it in to an extension cord run from the wall.

  “Very well,” Judge Wylie said.

  Dirkson strode to the prosecution table, and, with a bit of a flourish, inserted the micro-cassette into the machine and switched it on.

  For a moment there was no sound at all, and Dirkson had a panic attack that he’d hit the wrong button and was erasing the damn thing. Then the tape crackled on, and there came the “beep” before the recorded message.

  Then the voice. Cocky, jaunty, playful. Chillingly so, coming from a dead man.

  “Amy, Frank. Hey, babe, you really socked it to us. Gotta hand it to you, that was pretty neat. Listen, I’m down at the office catching up on some work. I’m all alone and feeling lonely. Whaddya say we patch things up? I bet we could, without your lawyer sticking his nose in. Whaddya say? Just you and me, babe. Just like old times.”

  37.

  AMY DEARBORN COULDN’T MEET Steve Winslow’s eyes. “It’s not like that,” she said.

  “Not like what?”

  “What he said on the tape. Wanting’ to see me without you. That had nothing to do with it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “Then look at me.”

  “Huh?”

  “Look at me.”

  Reluctantly, Amy raised her eyes.

  “Good,” Steve said. “Tell me something. This whole time you’ve been holding back, not telling me the truth and the whole bit—was it because of this?”

  “Huh?”

  “Was that the deal? Fletcher tells you to cut your lawyer out. You went to see him, it’s like you’re trying to cut me out of the settlement. That’s how it feels to you, that’s how you think I see it, and that’s why you wouldn’t talk.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Great.” Steve sighed. “The problem is, once you start lying, it gets to be a habit. In this case, everything looks so bad, you think all you can do is lie. Well, wake up. I’m your lawyer. I’m the one person you don’t have to lie too. You tried to ace me out of a settlement, well frankly I don’t care.”

  “I didn’t try to ace you out of a settlement.”

  “Who cares?” Steve said. “Do you get the point? Nobody fucking cares.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “You’re on trial for murder. That’s problem number one. You got Tracy on the hook as an accessory. That’s problem number two. I’m risking being disbarred, if I’m not nailed as an accessory myself. That’s problem number three. Do you think the idea that I might have missed out on a chance to share in some penny ante settlement Fletcher might have proposed to you weighs very heavily on my mind? You see it as a big deal, because it means you deceived me. Well, big fucking deal. You deceived me about everything else.”

  When Amy started to flare up, Steve put up his hand. “But let’s not get into that now. The point is, we’re going back into court and I don’t need any more body blows. I gotta cross-examine this guy, and if there’s anything he’s gonna throw in my face, I need to know it now.”

  Amy shook her head. “There’s nothing.”

  “No murder weapon with your fingerprints on it you conveniently neglected to mention?”

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Yes, you would,” Steve said. “If you didn’t, I’m very glad. But don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t.”

  Amy glared at him.

  “Good,” Steve said. “At least I have you attention. Do you understand if the cops can connect the murder weapon with you, the ball game is over?”

  “What murder weapon?”

  “The one they can’t find. The one that wasn’t there when they found the body. The one that wasn’t there when I found the body. The one you claim wasn’t there when you found the body.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. But we only have your word for that, and we know how good that’s been.”

  “Damn it—”

  “You pissed off?”

  “You’re damn right.”

  “Feel frustrated, helpless as hell?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Good. Then you see the problem. You’re the little girl who cried wolf. You’ve told so many lies, it’s very frustrating when nobody believes you anymore.”

  “I didn’t find the gun.”

  “That may be true. I hope it is.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Oh yeah?” Steve said. He exhaled. “Then I hope it’s enough.”

  38.

  WHEN COURT RECONVENED, OFFICER Hanson resumed the stand. “Now, then,” Dirkson said. “With regard to the message we just heard—the one you found on the defendant’s answering machine—you say you found this message when you searched her apartment?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I believe you stated that the light on the answering machine was on but not blinking? Is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And what did that indicate with regard to the function of the machine?”

  “That there had been no messages since the machine had been set.”

  “And how do you account for the message we just heard?”

  “As I said before, that was an old message.”

  “Old?”

  Officer Hanson held up his hand. “Now, don’t get me wrong. It could have been a very recent message. All I mean is, it was a message that was made prior to the time the machine had been set.”

  “Let me be sure I understand this,” Dirkson said. “When that message came in and was recorded, what would have happened to the red light on the machine?”

  “It would have begun blinking. To indicate there was a message on the machine.”

  “I see. And what would cause it to stop blinking?”

  “It would stop blinking when the message was played. The way the machine works is, you see the light blinking and you know you have a message. You press play to listen to that message. When the message is finished playing, the red light remains on but steady, indicating the answering machine is once again ready to record. If it is left that way it will record the next incoming message over the previous message. As I said before.”

  “What if you wanted to save that message?”

  “There is a button marked save on the machine. If you press that button after listening to the message, the red light will begin blinking again to indicate there is a message, and that message will be saved. If another call should come in, it will be recorded after that message. The machine would then blink twice to indicate there were two messages.”

  “I see. And since the light was steady, what did that indicate?”

  “That the message had been listened to but not saved.”

  Since that was the very point on which Steve Winslow’s earlier objection had been sustained, Dirkson could not resist a triumphant grin. “Now that’s the point I’d like to bring out, officer,” he said. “There’s no doubt then that this message had been listened to?”

  Officer Hanson shook his head. “None at all. If the light were blinking, there would be room for doubt. In that case, either the message hadn’t been listened to, or it had been listened to and saved. But if the light is steady, there’s only one way that could have happened. And that’s if the message had been played back.”

  Dirkson nodded his approval. “Thank you. That’s all.”

  Steve Winslow got to his feet. He smiled. “Officer Hanson, believe you mentioned this was the first micro-cassette you ever marked with your initials?”

  Hanson grinned. “That is correct.”

  “But you seem to know an awful l
ot about answering machines I was wondering—what exactly is the basis for your experience?”

  Hanson smiled and cocked his head. “I’m married.”

  This drew a laugh. The spectators in the courtroom were enjoying Officer Hanson. Even some of the jurors smiled.

  “I see,” Steve said. “You mean your wife has an answering machine?”

  “That she does.”

  “Oh? Would that be identical to the one owned by the defendant?”

  “No, it would not. In fact, I don’t think they’re even the same brand. But the operation is certainly similar. I’m familiar with mine, I had no problem operating the one belonging to the defendant.”

  Steve frowned. “I’m not quite, clear about your testimony. Perhaps you could help me out. When you referred to the working of the defendant’s answering machine—were you describing how hers works, or were you referring to the one owned by your wife?”

  “I was describing the one owned by the defendant.”

  “Based on what, if you’re not familiar with the machine?”

  “Based on what I personally observed,” Officer Hanson said. “As I’ve testified, I found the machine with the red light on, steady and unblinking. I pressed the play button and heard the message you just heard in court. When the message had finished playing, I pressed the button on the answering machine marked save. The red light on the answering machine began blinking, indicating there was a message. That’s how I know how the machine functions. It happens to be identical to how my wife’s answering machine functions, but I’m not going by that. I’m going by my own personal observation.”

  “I see,” Steve said. “And didn’t you also say that if you saved the message, if another message came in, it would be recorded after the message you had saved, and the machine would then blink twice?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Did you perform that experiment with the defendant’s machine?”

  “Ah...” Hanson cleared his throat. “Actually, I didn’t. The micro-cassette was an important piece of evidence. I didn’t want anything to happen to it. After I played it back, I removed it from the machine.”