The Innocent Woman

4

For his first witness, A.D.A. Pearson called Frank Fletcher, who testified that he and Marvin Lowery had been partners in F.L. Jewelry for the past seven years.

“And are you acquainted with the defendant, Amy Dearborn?”

“Yes, I am.”

“In what capacity do you know her?”

“She was my employee.”

“When did you hire her?”

“Approximately six months ago.”

“Is she still in your employ?”

“She is not.”

“When did she leave your employ?”

“On May 3rd.”

“What day of the week was that?”

“It was a Monday.”

“And how did she come to leave your employ?”

“I fired her.”

“I see,” Pearson said. “And can you tell us the circumstances surrounding that firing?”

“Certainly,” Fletcher said. He shifted position on the witness stand. “For some time I’d been noticing shortages in the petty cash drawer.”

“One moment,” Pearson said. “For the jurors benefit, could you please tell us briefly about your business and how you operate?”

“Yes, of course. F.L. Jewelry is a wholesale and retail jewelry outlet. We don’t manufacture, we buy and sell. In that regard we’re a very small operation. Just myself and my partner, Marvin Lowery. And one secretary.”

“Miss Dearborn?”

“That’s right.”

“Go on. You mentioned a shortage in the petty cash drawer.”

“Yes. For some time I’d been aware of a discrepancy between what there should have been there and what there was.”

“In what amounts?”

“Anywhere from twenty to a hundred dollars.”

“And just how was petty cash handled?”

“As I say, it’s a small concern. Just the two of us and Miss Dearborn. The petty cash was kept in a cash box in Miss Dearborn’s desk. That’s what I’m referring to when I say the petty cash drawer.”

“How much money was kept in this box?”

“It varied, of course. But in the neighborhood of five hundred dollars.”

“I see. And what did you do when you discovered sums were missing?”

“I told my partner.”

“Mr. Lowery?”

“That’s right.”

“And what did you do.”

“We talked it over-”

Pearson held up his hand. “Fine. Don’t tell us what was said. But after your conversation, what did you do?”

“We hired a private detective.”

“Who actually hired him?”

“I did.”

“And who did you hire?”

“Samuel Macklin. Of the Macklin Detective Agency.”

“How did you hire him? Call him on the phone? Go to his office?”

“I called him on the phone, made an appointment and went to his office.”

“What did you tell him on that occasion?”

“I explained the situation. I told him there’d been shortages in our petty cash drawer and I wanted to get to the bottom of it.”

Pearson held up his hand. “Fine. Now, never mind what Mr. Macklin told you. What did he do?”

“He came to our office.”

“When was that?”

“Friday, April 30th.”

“At what time?”

“Twelve-thirty in the afternoon.”

“Who was in the office at the time?”

“Myself and Mr. Lowery.”

“Where was the defendant, Miss Dearborn?”

“She had gone out to lunch.”

“Was that a coincidence?”

“No, it was not. I asked Mr. Macklin to come while Miss Dearborn was out to lunch.”

“And why was that?”

“So she wouldn’t know what we were doing.”

“I see. And what were you doing? What did Mr. Macklin do when he came to your office?”

“According to his instructions, I’d been to the bank that morning and taken out five hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills. When Mr. Macklin came to the office, he took out a notebook and wrote down the serial numbers of those bills. Then he gave them back to me and I put them in the petty cash drawer.”

“What happened then?”

“Mr. Macklin left the office. Miss Dearborn came back from lunch. We conducted business as usual for the rest of the afternoon.”

“What happened a closing time?”

“Mr. Lowery and I left the office at five o’clock.”

“Was that normal?”

“Yes, it was. We always go home then.”

“What about Miss Dearborn?”

“She stays on the phones till five-thirty.”

“Every night?”

“That’s right.”

“She stays there alone?”

“Yes, she does.”

“What happens at five-thirty?”

“She closes up the office and goes home.”

“And that’s what she did on the night in question, April 30th?”

Frank Fletcher smiled. “I can’t speak for what she did. All I know is Mr. Lowery and I left the office at five o’clock.”

“Leaving her alone in the office?”

“That’s right.”

“And this was Friday night?”

“Yes.”

“Is your office open over the weekend?”

“No, it is not.”

“When did it open again?”

“Monday morning.”

“At what time?”

“We normally open at nine. This Monday we were there at eight-thirty.”

“Eight-thirty in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And why was that?”

“We got there early to meet Mr. Macklin.”

“He came to your office?”

“Yes, he did.”

“And what happened on that occasion?”

“We met him at eight-thirty in the morning outside our office building.”

“And where is that, by the way?”

“West 47th Street. Between Sixth and Seventh Avenue.”

“All right. You met him outside the building. And what did you do then?”

“We went up and unlocked the office?”

“You had not been in before?”

“That morning? No.”

“When was the last time you’d been in the office?”

“When we’d left Friday night.”

“You all went up together and unlocked the door?”

“That’s right.”

“And what did you do then?”

“I took the cash box out of the petty cash drawer.”

“In Miss Dearborn’s desk?”

“That’s right.”

“What did you do then?”

“I examined the contents.”

“And what did you find?”

“There was a hundred dollars missing.”

“A hundred dollars?”

“That’s right. Five of the twenty dollar bills were gone.”

“I see. And what did you do then?”

“We waited for Miss Dearborn to come in to work.”

“What time did she come in?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“What happened then?”

“Mr. Macklin identified himself, showed Miss Dearborn his I.D., and asked her to empty her purse.”

“What did Miss Dearborn do?”

“She seemed somewhat flustered. She-”

“One moment,” Judge Dalrymple said. He looked down at the defense table where Steve Winslow sat, looking unconcerned and somewhat bored, almost as if he weren’t paying attention. Judge Dalrymple cleared his throat. “So far there has been no objection from the defense. Still, if the witness would avoid giving his opinion as to what the defendant thought or felt.”

“Yes. Sorry, Your Honor,” Frank Fletcher said. “Ah…Could you repeat the question?”

“What did the defendant do when Mr. Macklin asked her to empty her purse? Never mind what you thought or felt-just confine yourself to what she said and did.”

“Right. Well, as I recall, she asked me what was going on. Am I allowed to say that? And I told her there’d been a robbery and Mr. Macklin was investigating it, and I asked her if she’d cooperate with him in clearing the matter up.”

“What happened then?”

“She withdrew her objection and allowed him to look in her purse.”

“Did he find anything significant?”

“Yes, he did.”

“What was that?”

“She had some twenty dollar bills in her change purse. Mr. Macklin took them and compared them to the list of serial numbers he had written down.”

“With what result?”

“Two of the bills were on the list.”

“The serial numbers matched?”

“Yes, they did.”

“What did you do then?”

“I called the police. They came and arrested Miss Dearborn.”

A.D.A. Pearson smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Fletcher. That’s all.”

Judge Dalrymple looked over at the defense table where Amy Dearborn’s long haired lawyer sat looking bored as ever. “Does the defense wish to cross-examine?”

Steve Winslow sighed. “I have one or two questions, Your Honor.” He got to his feet, stretched, crossed in to the witness stand. He frowned, rubbed his head. “Mr. Fletcher, correct me if I’m wrong. This happened on May 3rd?”

“Yes, it did.”

“That was the day you called the police and they arrested Miss Dearborn?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you also mention May 3rd as the day Miss Dearborn left your employ?”

“Yes, I did.”

“That was her last day with your firm?”

“Yes, it was.”

“I believe you said you fired her, is that right?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why did you fire her?”

Frank Fletcher was a thin-faced man with a rather arrogant quality when he smiled. He did so now. “You want me to answer that?”

“I certainly do.”

“I fired her for stealing.”

“I see.” Steve Winslow nodded gravely. He turned, walked over to the jury box. Turned back to the witness. “Mr. Fletcher, you weren’t here for jury selection. But we had quite a discussion of the concept of innocent until proven guilty. Are you familiar with that concept?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then how can you have fired the defendant for theft when she has not been found guilty of theft?”

Frank Fletcher drew himself up. “I consider that a mere formality.”

“Formality?” Steve said. “You consider our judicial system a mere formality?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Pearson said. “Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. Let counsel stick to the facts.”

“Sustained,” Judge Dalrymple snapped. “Mr. Winslow, try to move it along.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Steve said. As if taking his cue from the judge’s admonition, he picked up the pace. “The fact is, you believe the defendant is guilty of theft?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You base that belief on the fact she had two of the twenty dollar bills in her possession?”

“Yes. And the fact she was alone in the office Friday night and had the opportunity to take them.”

“You consider that conclusive?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Beyond any reasonable doubt?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, let me see if I can change your mind,” Steve said. “You stated that you withdrew the twenty dollar bills from the bank and placed them in the cash drawer?”

“That’s right.”

“Before you did so, you gave the bills to your detective, Mr. Macklin. He wrote down the serial numbers. Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Did he put the bills in the cash box.”

“No. I did.”

“After he wrote down the serial numbers, he returned the bills to you and you put them in the cash drawer?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And what was the amount you put in the cash drawer?”

“Five hundred dollars.”

“In twenty dollar bills?”

“That’s right.”

“At five per hundred, that would be twenty-five twenty dollar bills. Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Mr. Macklin wrote twenty-five serial numbers in his notebook?”

“Ah…” Frank Fletcher hesitated. “To the best of my knowledge, he did. I didn’t actually count them. Mr. Macklin should speak for himself. But I understand the notebook is here in court. You can count them if you want.”

“I most certainly will,” Steve Winslow said. “But to the best of your knowledge, Mr. Macklin wrote the numbers of all those bills in his notebook?”

“Yes, he did.”

“And the amount you put in the cash box was five hundred dollars?”

“Yes, it was.”

“When was that done?”

“Approximately twelve-thirty on Friday afternoon.”

“And what was the date again?”

“April 30th.”

“That was the same day you withdrew the money from the bank?”

“Yes, it was.”

“How did you withdraw the money?”

Frank Fletcher frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, did you write a check? Did you go to a cash machine? How did you get the twenty dollar bills?”

“I wrote a check.”

“On what bank?”

“Chase Manhattan.”

“You wrote it that day?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Was that a company check or a personal check?”

“A company check, of course.”

“An F. L. Jewelry check?”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” Steve said. “If I understand your testimony correctly, if we were to examine your company bank records, we would find a company check for five hundred dollars made out to cash, signed by you, dated and cashed on April 30th. Is that right?”

Frank Fletcher took a breath. “Not exactly,” he said.

“Oh?” Steve said. “And why is that?”

“I didn’t say I wrote a check for five hundred dollars.”

“You didn’t? I’m sorry. I guess I misunderstood you. Didn’t you say you took out five hundred dollars from the bank?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And didn’t you say you wrote a check?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then please explain yourself. What do you mean when you say you didn’t write a check for five hundred dollars?”

“That wasn’t the amount of the check.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because that wasn’t all the money I needed at the time.”

“Are you saying you wrote a larger check than five hundred dollars?”

“Yes, of course.”

“How large a check did you write?”

“As I recall, I wrote a check for eight hundred dollars.”

“Eight hundred dollars?”

“That’s right.”

“And what was the extra three hundred dollars for?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Pearson said. “Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

“Overruled,” Judge Dalrymple said. “Witness will answer.”

“It was Friday. Payday. The three hundred dollars was for the payroll.”

“Payroll?” Steve said.

“That’s right.”

Steve smiled. “Mr. Fletcher, as I recall, there are only three people in your company. Yourself, Mr. Lowery and Miss Dearborn. Are those the people on your payroll?”

“Yes, they are.”

“You paid them all with three hundred dollars?”

“Certainly not,” Frank Fletcher said. “Mr. Lowery and I take our salary in the form of checks. Miss Dearborn was paid in cash.”

“The three hundred dollars was for Miss Dearborn?”

“That’s right.”

“That was her salary? Three hundred dollars a week?”

“Yes, it was.”

“And did you pay her her salary that afternoon?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You paid her three hundred dollars in cash?”

“That’s right.”

“And the three hundred dollars you paid her-was that in the form of twenty dollar bills?”

“Yes, it was.”

“So, when you went to the bank you took out eight hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills?”

“That’s right.”

“Of that, five hundred you gave to Mr. Macklin to write the serial numbers down, and three hundred you gave to Miss Dearborn for her weekly salary. Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Referring to the money you gave to Mr. Macklin-you didn’t write the serial numbers down from those bills?”

“No, I did not.”

“But you were there when he did, is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“You watched him do it?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And he was the one who wrote the serial numbers down?”

“Yes, he was.”

“Was he the one who put the money in the cash box?”

“No, he wasn’t. I did that.”

“You did so yourself?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You’re speaking now of your own personal knowledge. When you say the money was put in the cash drawer, you’re not taking Mr. Macklin’s word for it. And you’re not testifying to something Mr. Macklin did. You’re saying that you yourself placed that money in the cash box and put the cash box in the cash drawer?”

“That’s right.”

“And when did you do that?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“When did you put the money in the cash box and put the cash box in the cash drawer?”

“Right then.”

“Right when?”

“The time we’re talking about. On the lunch hour. Friday. April 30th. When Mr. Macklin was in our office.”

“I see,” Steve said. “And before the defendant returned from lunch?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And did Mr. Macklin leave before she returned from lunch?”

“Yes, he did.”

“And why was that?”

“Like I said. We didn’t want her to know he was there.”

“Now, when the defendant returned from lunch-you didn’t fire her that afternoon?”

“No. Of course not.”

“You fired her the following Monday. Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“She continued to work for the rest of the day? You let her go on working that afternoon just as if nothing had happened?”

“Yes, we did.”

“And you paid her her salary?”

“Yes, I did.”

“When did you pay her?”

“At the end of the day. Same as usual.”

“Just before you left work?”

“That’s right.”

“Well,” Steve said. “If I understand your testimony correctly, on Friday, April 30th, you went to the bank and took out eight hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills. You gave five hundred of that to Mr. Macklin. He wrote down the serial numbers. Mr. Macklin returned the five hundred dollars to you, leaving you once again with eight hundred dollars. Of that eight hundred dollars you put five hundred in the petty cash box in the petty cash drawer and gave three hundred to the defendant for her salary. Is that right?”

“No, it is not right,” A.D.A. Pearson cried angrily, lunging to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor!”

“Let’s have a sidebar,” Judge Dalrymple said. He rubbed his head, got down from his bench and met the lawyers and court reporter off to one side, where they could confer in low tones out of earshot of the jury. When the reporter was set up to take notes, Judge Dalrymple said, “All right, what’s the objection?”

“I object to counsel summarizing the witness’ testimony.”

Judge Dalrymple shook his head. “He’s merely asking him if certain things he’s testified to are true.”

“I further object on the grounds he’s assuming facts not in evidence.”

“What facts?”

Pearson took a breath. “Well,” he said. “Well, the way he’s phrasing it. That Macklin gave him back five hundred dollars, then he had eight hundred dollars of which he put five hundred in the cash drawer and gave three hundred to the defendant.”

“Which is exactly what happened,” Judge Dalrymple said, irritably. “Now you may not like it, but those happen to be the facts. If you don’t like the slant counsel is putting on them, bring it out on redirect. Meanwhile, the objection is overruled.”

Judge Dalrymple returned to his bench and the court reporter to his seat. A.D.A. Pearson reluctantly sat down and Steve Winslow approached the witness.

“The court reporter will read the question,” Judge Dalrymple said.

As the court reporter droned on through his long summation, Pearson realized that all he’d accomplished by his objection was emphasizing the point and allowing the jury to hear it twice. “Do you understand the question?” Steve said.

“Yes, I do.”

“Can you answer it?”

“Yes, I can,” Frank Fletcher said. “That is not what happened. I put the five hundred dollars Mr. Macklin gave me in the petty cash box.”

Steve smiled. “I understand that is your contention. But it’s not really the question I asked you. Let me make it simpler, Mr. Fletcher. How much’ money did you withdraw from the bank that day?”

“Eight hundred dollars.”

“In twenty dollar bills?”

“Objected to. Already asked and answered.”

“Overruled.”

“Yes. In twenty dollar bills.”

“You gave five hundred dollars of that money to Mr. Macklin?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did he give you the money back?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Was that before or after you paid the defendant her salary?”

Frank Fletcher glared at Steve Winslow and did not answer.

“I’d like an answer to that, Your Honor,”

“Witness will answer the question,” Judge Dalrymple ruled.

“Was that before or after you paid Miss Dearborn her salary?”

“Before.”

“Later that afternoon you gave the defendant three hundred dollars?”

“Yes.”

“In twenty dollar bills?”

“That’s right.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fletcher. No further questions.”

A.D.A. Pearson was on his feet. His exasperation was evident. “Mr. Fletcher. You stated you gave five hundred dollars to Mr. Macklin?”

“That’s right.”

“He wrote down the serial numbers and gave the money back to you?”

“Yes, he did.”

“And it was that five hundred dollars that you put in the petty cash box in the petty cash drawer?”

“Yes, it was.”

“And there’s no chance whatsoever that you gave any of those twenty dollar bills to the defendant as part of her salary?”

“Absolutely not. I put them in the petty cash drawer.”

“Each and every bill?”

“Each and every bill.”

As soon as he said the words, they echoed in A.D.A. Pearson’s brain. Each and every. Each and every bill. Each and every juror. The same phrase Steve Winslow had tripped him up on during jury selection.

And it was the echo of that phrase that triggered the realization of what he’d just done.

Steve Winslow’s cross-examination of Frank Fletcher had raised the inference that Frank Fletcher had made a mistake and paid the defendant’s salary with some of the bills Mr. Macklin had recorded the serial numbers of. But Winslow hadn’t said so. He’d never actually voiced the thought. Never put it in words.

But Pearson had. He was the one making the suggestion. Granted in a negative context, but even so. He was the one bringing it up.

It took only a split second for all of that to register in A.D.A Pearson’s mind. But in that split second he had time to glance over at the defense table to see a totally demoralizing sight.

Opposing counsel Steve Winslow, grinning broadly.