The Anonymous Client

26

For his first witness, Dirkson called Police Officer Frank Sullivan, who stated his name and cited his eighteen years of duty on the force.

“Now, Officer Sullivan, were you on duty on the ninth day of October.”

“I was.”

“And what was your duty on that day?”

“I was on radio patrol.”

“In what vehicle?”

“In a marked police car.”

“And did you have a partner at that time?”

“Yes I did.”

“And who was your partner?”

“Officer Sanford Hill.”

“Directing your attention to the address 249 East 3rd Street, did you receive any instructions regarding that address?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Could you tell us what happened, please?”

“Yes. We got a call on the police radio reporting an altercation at that address.”

“Can you tell us what time you got that call?”

“I do not recall the exact time, but I wrote it in my notebook.”

“Would looking at your notebook refresh your recollection on that matter?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Would you please do so?”

Officer Sullivan took out his notebook and flipped through the pages. “Yes, sir. The call came in at 5:42 P.M.”

“And what did you do?”

“My partner and I proceeded to that address.”

“What time did you get there?”

“Approximately five minutes later.”

“That would be 5:47?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you find when you got there?”

“The downstairs door was open and we went in.”

“Did you hear the sounds of an altercation.”

“No, sir. We did not.”

“What did you do then?”

“We went up the stairs to apartment 2A.”

“And what did you find?”

“We found the body of a man lying on the floor. He had been stabbed in the back with a knife.”

“What did you do then?”

“We radioed for Emergency Medical Services, and radioed to report a possible homicide.”

“Thank you, officer. Your witness.”

As Dirkson sat down, Fitzpatrick got ponderously to his feet. Steve Winslow smiled. This really was going to be a battle of the giants. Steve watched Fitzpatrick with some interest, wondering what tack the attorney was going to take. Fitzpatrick smiled and approached the witness. “Officer Sullivan,” he said. “I believe you stated that you have been a police officer for eighteen years?”

“That’s right.”

“During the course of that time, have you ever been called upon to testify in a court of law?”

“Yes, sir. I have.”

“On how many occasions?”

“I can’t recall, sir.”

“Approximately.”

“Say fifty to a hundred times.”

“I see. Now in this particular case, I notice several glaring gaps in your testimony.”

“Objection, Your Honor.”

“Sustained.”

“Well, let’s discuss your testimony. You say you got a radio call, requesting you to proceed to 249 East 3rd Street?”

“That’s right.”

“The downstairs door was open and you went in?”

“That’s right.”

“Now, when you got to the door to 2A, the apartment of the deceased, what happened?”

“I knocked on the door.”

“And what happened?”

“A voice said ‘Come in.’”

Fitzpatrick raised his eyebrows. “A voice?”

“Yes. A man’s voice.”

“A man’s voice. How interesting? You didn’t mention this on direct examination.”

“I wasn’t asked.”

“No, you weren’t, were you, Officer Sullivan? So a man’s voice said, ‘Come in,’ and what did you do then?”

“I opened the door and went in.”

“The door was unlocked?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s mighty interesting too. And when you got into the apartment, did you by any chance encounter the owner of this voice, the man who said, ‘Come in’?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And where was he?”

“Seated on the couch.”

“The living room couch?”

“Yes.”

“That is the same room in which you found the body of the deceased?”

“That’s right.”

“So, if I understand it correctly, when you entered the apartment, you found two people, a dead man lying on the floor, and a live man, sitting on the couch. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Fitzpatrick shook his head and laughed. “Well, Officer Sullivan, you must forgive me for thinking there might be a few glaring gaps in your story.”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Dirkson said.

Judge Graves frowned. “Mr. Fitzpatrick. If we could avoid such side remarks.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Fitzpatrick said. “Now, Officer Sullivan, you say you found a man sitting in the apartment?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you by any chance identify the gentleman in question?”

“I did.”

“And who was he?”

“His name is Steve Winslow.”

“Steve Winslow? I see. And did you have a conversation with this Mr. Winslow?”

“I did.”

“Perhaps ask him what he was doing there?”

“That’s right.”

“And did he make any explanation for his presence?”

“He did not.”

Fitzpatrick raised his eyebrows incredulously. “You mean he refused to explain his presence in the apartment of a murdered man?”

“Objection,” Dirkson said. “Argumentative, assuming facts not in evidence, and in effect already asked and answered.”

“Sustained.”

Fitzpatrick smiled broadly and shook his head. “Well, well. And what did you do with this individual?”

“I held him until homicide arrived.”

“And turned him over to them?”

“That is correct.”

“And who was the officer to whom you turned him over?”

“Sergeant Stams.”

“You held this Mr. Winslow in the decedent’s apartment until homicide arrived?”

“Not in that apartment, no. My partner stayed there. I held him in custody in the landlady’s apartment downstairs.”

“Until such time as you turned him over to Sergeant Stams?”

“Actually, until Sergeant Stams was finished with him and he was released.”

“Until he was released?” Fitzpatrick managed to convey the impression that Sullivan had just confessed to the most heinous of crimes. “You’re telling me this man found at the scene of the crime was released?”

“Yes, sir.”

“He was not taken to police headquarters?”

“No, sir.”

“He was questioned at the scene of the crime?”

“By Sergeant Stams, yes.”

“And you were present for the questioning.”

“That’s right.”

“Did you have any other dealings with this gentleman before he was released?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what were those dealings?”

“I searched him.”

“You searched him?”

“Yes, sir.”

“For what?”

Sullivan shrugged. “For whatever I might find.”

“At who’s request did you search him?”

Sullivan hesitated.

“Well?”

“Well, actually, I searched him twice.”

Fitzpatrick stared at him. “Twice?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you search him twice?”

Sullivan shifted his position on the witness stand. “Well, you see, he asked to be searched.”

“Who did?”

“Steve Winslow.”

“You mean the man himself asked to be searched?”

“That’s right.”

“And so you accommodated him?”

“Well, it seemed a good idea at the time.”

“You wanted to see if he had any evidence on him that might incriminate him in this murder?”

“Objection. Argumentative.”

“Sustained.”

“This was before Sergeant Stams arrived?”

“That is correct.”

“And then you searched him a second time?”

“That’s right.”

“When was that?”

“After Sergeant Stams arrived.”

“And had questioned the suspect?”

“Object to the word ‘suspect,’ Your Honor,” Dirkson snapped.

“Sustained. Rephrase the question.”

Fitzpatrick smiled ironically. “And this was after Sergeant Stams had questioned the gentleman?”

“That’s right.”

“And who suggested you search him a second time?”

“Sergeant Stams.”

“And on these two occasions when you searched the, uh, gentleman, did you find anything you considered significant?”

“No, I did not.”

“And it was after the second search that you let the gentleman go?”

“That’s right.”

“And, to the best of your knowledge, this gentleman, Steve Winslow, has never been indicted on any charges in this matter?”

“Objection, Your Honor. Assuming facts not in evidence, and calling for a conclusion on the part of the witness.”

“It is a simple yes or no question, Your Honor, asking for the witness’s personal knowledge.”

“Objection overruled.”

“No. As far as I know he has not.”

“I see,” Fitzpatrick said, nodding gravely to the jury. “No further questions.”

As he sat down, several of the jurors were looking at each other with puzzled expressions.

In the back of the courtroom, Steve Winslow shifted in his seat. Well, at least that answered his question. Fitzpatrick might not be the best of attorneys. He might not be that bright, and his methods might be slightly heavy-handed. But there was no question what his courtroom strategy was going to be.

Fitzpatrick was going to try to pin the murder on him.