The Innocent Woman

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.”