Steve Winslow leaned back in Mark Taylor’s overstuffed clients’ chair and rubbed his head.
“So,” he said, “what’s his game?”
Mark Taylor looked at him. “Fitzpatrick? I thought that was fairly obvious.”
Steve shook his head. “Naw. Screw Fitzpatrick. I mean Dirkson.”
Mark Taylor frowned. “I don’t get it, Steve.”
“I don’t get it either,” Steve said, “and it bothers me.”
Mark Taylor took a sip of coffee. “Look, Steve. We’re not connecting here. I don’t know what you’re thinking, and I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you expect me to contribute to this conversation, you better let me in on what you’re trying to say.”
“All right,” Steve said. “Look. To start off with, Dirkson’s not dumb.”
“All right. Dirkson’s not dumb. So? You told me that yesterday. He’s gonna let Fitzpatrick bring out all the shit and then let the bar association go after you. I know that.”
“Right. But besides that. Look what he’s doing.”
“What?”
“All right. Take the witness. Margaret Millburn. He gives her as perfunctory a direct examination as you ever heard. A child of three can see she’s not telling the whole story. Naturally, Fitzpatrick rips into her on cross-examination and brings out the fact that the person she heard arguing with the victim was a man.”
“So?”
“I was watching Dirkson when it happened. He didn’t bat an eye.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Everything.”
Steve Winslow got up and started pacing.
“I don’t understand, Steve,” Taylor said. “We know Dirkson’s out to get you. This is exactly what he’s been doing all along-letting Fitzpatrick bring out the damaging stuff. So what’s the big deal?”
Steve shook his head. “Dirkson wants to get me for obstructing justice and tampering with evidence. He isn’t out to get me for murder. Look, Mark. Dirkson’s trying Marilyn Harding on a murder rap. Much as he might love to take a few pot shots at me, his prime concern is convicting her. Margaret Millburn’s testimony that the person she heard having an altercation with the decedent was a man has to be a serious blow to Dirkson’s case. But it doesn’t seem to faze him. And the question is why?”
“And the answer is, I don’t know.”
“Right. And that’s what bothers me. Sooner or later, Dirkson’s gonna rest his case. As soon as he does, Fitzpatrick’s gonna slap a subpoena on me. He’ll put me on the stand, get me declared a hostile witness, and rip into me. I’ll have to take the position that I can’t answer certain questions without betraying the confidence of a client. You know how that’s gonna look to the jury. Ten to one, Fitzpatrick will rest his case right there. Then he’ll argue that the prosecution’s case is all circumstantial, and that I am just as likely to have killed the victim as his client. Add to that the fact that Margaret Millburn claims she heard Bradshaw arguing with a man, and there’s no way the jury’s going to being back a verdict of guilty.”
Taylor frowned. “That’s right. So what the hell is Dirkson up to?”
Steve shook his head. “That’s the question.”