The Innocent Woman

29

“Robbery and revenge.”

Harry Dirkson stood before the jury and held up his left hand with two fingers raised. “Two separate but interconnected motives.” Dirkson smiled. “It’s nice when you’re able to prove one motive. It’s a rare thing when you’re able to prove two. But that what we have in this case.”

Dirkson turned, pointed to the defense table, where Amy Dearborn sat beside Steve Winslow. “Amy Dearborn killed Frank Fletcher to rob him and to exact revenge. Revenge for what? For accusing her of a crime. Frank Fletcher was her employer, and he had fired her for stealing. More than that, he had actually had her arrested for the crime. She had been tried and acquitted that very afternoon.”

Dirkson paused, let that sink in. Then he shifted gears, became crisp and businesslike. “We expect to show, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that that night, following the conclusion of the trial, the defendant went out to dinner, returned home to her apartment and found a message from Frank Fletcher on her answering machine. And what was the gist of that message? Telling her that he was working at the office and suggesting that she stop by and work things out.

“Well, Amy worked things out all right. She went down to the office, shot him and killed him.

“Why? Revenge.

“First motive.

“And what did she do then? She robbed the place. She cleaned out the petty cash drawer.

“Second motive.

“Just like that. In one fell swoop.

“Robbery and revenge.

“And what was the crime Frank Fletcher had accused her of? The crime she was arrested for? The charge for which she enacted her revenge?”

Dirkson paused, shrugged, smiled.

“Stealing the company’s petty cash.”

Dirkson nodded in agreement with himself, inviting the jury to agree too. “When you hear the evidence, ladies and gentlemen, you will see how well it all fits. We expect to show that in addition to the business relationship, Amy Dearborn had dated Frank Fletcher at one time. Until he dropped her. So it wasn’t just the accusation of theft. You also have to factor in the concept of a woman scorned. Imagine the defendant carrying all that around inside her. And then going through the emotional turmoil of a jury trial. Consider the relief she must have felt when that trial ended favorably. She goes home, she makes a date, she goes out to dinner. For once, she hasn’t a care in the world.

“And what happens then? She returns home, and on her answering machine is the voice of the man who used her, abused her, and accused her.”

Dirkson paused, smiled at his own rhyme. Was gratified when some of the jurors smiled back.

“Yes,” Dirkson said, “it’s not hard to see how that would be the last straw, pushing this woman over the edge.” He paused, raised his finger. “Though that is no excuse for what she did. What she did was a cold-blooded, premeditated murder. She went out, she hailed a taxi and went down to the office. She let herself in with a key she retained from when she worked there, a key she had never surrendered. She let herself in, closing the door quietly behind her. She tiptoed across the floor, surprised Frank Fletcher in his office, pulled out a gun and shot him.

“When did she do this, ladies and gentlemen? Right around eight o’clock. The report of the medical examiner will show that the decedent met his death sometime between the hours of seven-thirty and eight-thirty that night. We can place Amy Dearborn’s arrival at the office at approximately eight o’clock.

“All these facts are entirely consistent with her guilt. She arrived at eight o’clock, let herself in, and killed him.

“And what did she do then? She robbed the petty cash drawer. Why? Well, the obvious reason is to get the money. The other reason is to cover up the crime. To make Frank Fletcher’s death look like a robbery and murder.

“Well, it was. But the other way around.” Dirkson frowned. “What I mean is, Frank Fletcher was not murdered for the money. That was the way the defendant wanted it to appear. No, she murdered him, and, as an afterthought, she stole the money. First, because she wanted the money, and, second, to make it look like that was the reason for the crime.”

Dirkson held up one finger. “Can we prove Amy Dearborn took the money?” He nodded. “Yes, we can. By her very own actions and her very own words.”

Dirkson smiled. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you what Amy Dearborn did then. She’d killed Frank Fletcher and taken the petty cash, leaving the petty cash box and the petty cash drawer open to make it look like robbery was the motive for the crime. What did she do then? She left the office. Why? For several reasons. One, to get rid of the money. Two, to get rid of the gun.”

Dirkson stopped, held up his hand. “Now, I have to warn you. The defense attorney is going to make a big deal over the fact we haven’t recovered the gun. You’ll see him up here, striding up and down, saying, Where’s the murder weapon? How can they prove their case when they haven’t got the means?” Dirkson shook his head. “Well, if you fall for that, ladies and gentlemen, it’s because you’ve been seduced by television. The shows on TV, they always have the gun.

“Real life is different. In a large percentage of murder cases, the weapon is never recovered. Why? Because the murderer gets rid of it. Why? Well, sometimes because it can link the murderer to the crime. But not always. Sometimes the murderer will kill someone, and then take the gun with them when they try to escape. Hang onto it in case they encounter resistance, perhaps have to shoot their way out. They dispose of it later, as soon as they feel safe, as soon as they’re away from the scene of the crime.

“Which is what happened in this case. The defendant took the murder weapon away with her and disposed of it. And why haven’t we found it? Because she didn’t want it found. It’s a big city. She drops it down a sewer, throws it in a dumpster, in the East River for all we know. Chances are that gun will never be found.

“I don’t want you to get hung up on that point. If the rest of the circumstantial evidence indicates the defendant committed the crime, we don’t need the murder weapon to establish her guilt.

“Anyway, the defendant left the office to dispose of the money and the gun. But she had a third reason for doing so. To build up an alibi for herself. She went back to her own neighborhood, hailed a taxi and had it take her to the office. She went in, pretended to find the body, and called the police. They arrived minutes later and she told them her story.”

Dirkson held up one finger. “That story is false. We can prove that by her own words.” He smiled. “Because the defendant was very unlucky. Something happened which she could not have foreseen. Between the time she left the office to dispose of the money and the gun and the time she returned to pretend to find the body and call the cops, a chambermaid came by to clean the office. She found the petty cash box and the petty cash drawer open.

“And she closed them.”

Dirkson smiled. “But the defendant didn’t notice. She came back to the office, called the cops, and when they arrived, told them she’d just gotten there and found Frank Fletcher dead and the office robbed. According to her, she’d found the petty cash drawer and the petty cash box open and the petty cash gone.”

Dirkson shrugged. “Well, the money was gone all right. But the petty cash box and the petty cash drawer were shut.”

Dirkson shook his head, chuckled. “How damning is that? Well, I ask you to consider the defendant’s own evaluation. When confronted with that fact, the defendant offered no explanation whatsoever. On the contrary, she refused to answer questions, and from that point on she has not said another word.”

On the bench Judge Wylie glanced over at the defense table. A seasoned jurist, Wylie would have expected an objection-Dirkson’s comment was clearly improper. But Amy Dearborn’s longhaired, casually dressed, young lawyer just sat there calmly looking slightly bored.

Judge Wylie frowned. He looked over at Dirkson to find the prosecutor had paused, either in anticipation of an objection, or merely to let the significance of his statements sink in.

Whichever, Judge Wylie felt somewhat irritated. “Does that conclude your opening statement, Mr. Dirkson?”

“No, Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “Though there isn’t much more to tell. This is a very simple, straightforward case.”

Dirkson turned back to the jury. “We expect to prove that Amy Dearborn first arrived at the office of F. L. Jewelry, not at ten o’clock as she would have us believe, but much earlier, at eight o’clock. We shall prove this both by circumstantial evidence and by eyewitness testimony. You will hear two separate eyewitness accounts placing her at the scene of the crime. You will hear the actual tape recorded message from Frank Fletcher, the message he left on her answering machine asking her to come meet him. You will hear the testimony of the medical examiner to the fact that the decedent, Frank Fletcher, was killed at exactly the time the eyewitnesses place her on the scene.”

Dirkson held up one finger again. “No one saw her fire the shot. Which is not unusual. Most murderers don’t commit their crimes with someone watching. It simply isn’t done.

“That is why this case, like most murder cases, is a case of circumstantial evidence. That, as I say, is not unusual. It is only unusual in that it happens to be a particularly strong one. The facts will show that the defendant, and only the defendant, could have committed this crime. We will lay these facts before you and we will expect a verdict of guilty at your hands.”