The Naked Typist

43

Judge Wallingsford looked down from his bench at the packed courtroom. He frowned, cleared his throat. “All right,” he said. “Before we bring in the jury and proceed, let’s attempt to determine where we are. Mr. Dirkson, when we left off yesterday you had just completed your direct examination of the witness, Marcie Keller.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Where is the witness now?”

“She is in police custody, Your Honor.”

“Has she been charged?”

“She is being held as a material witness.”

“But she’s already been a witness.”

“It’s entirely possible we may recall her, Your Honor. It’s also entirely possible she may be charged.”

“With what?”

“Withholding evidence. Obstruction of justice. Aiding and abetting. Possibly even as an accessory to the crime.”

“But she has not been charged as yet?”

“No, Your Honor. Nor have any of the other principals in this matter. Mark Taylor, Steve Winslow or Harold Fitzpatrick.”

Judge Wallingsford frowned. Steve Winslow rose to his feet. Judge Wallingsford held up his hand. “Hold on, Mr. Winslow. I’ll handle this.” Judge Wallingsford turned back to Dirkson. His face was stern. “Mr. Dirkson, this is neither the proper time nor the proper place for such remarks. Remarks that have no bearing on the present proceedings and were in my opinion intended solely for the benefit of the public and the press. What you have alluded to may be a matter for the Bar Association, but it has no place here. And I warn you, if you make any remarks of that kind in the presence of the jury, any allegations of misconduct about the defense attorneys, any allusions to the fact that they might possibly be charged with a crime, you would be in serious danger of forcing me to declare a mistrial. You are the district attorney, and I should not have to point this out to you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Now, if you were informing me that charges had been brought, that is something I might need to know. But alluding to the fact that charges might be brought is the type of insinuation and innuendo that is associated with the tabloid press and has no place in my courtroom. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Fine,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Let’s see if we can proceed. Two days ago the defendant was on the stand and had concluded her direct examination. Due to the peculiar turns this case has taken, she has yet to be cross-examined by the prosecution. I would hope that could be accomplished this morning, once these other matters have been set aside.

“When we left off yesterday, the witness Marcie Keller was on the stand, and had concluded her direct examination. You say she is in police custody, Mr. Dirkson?”

“That’s right, Your Honor.”

“I trust she is available to us?”

“Certainly, Your Honor. The officers are just awaiting your order to bring her in.”

“Fine. Before we do so-Mr. Winslow, Mr. Fitzpatrick, may I ask if you intend to cross-examine this witness?”

Steve Winslow stood up. “We do not, Your Honor.”

“That simplifies things,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Then there is no need to have her in. Bring in the jury, and return the defendant to the stand.”

Steve Winslow was still on his feet. “Before you do, Your Honor, while I have no questions of Miss Keller, at this time I would like to recall one of the other prosecution witnesses for cross-examination.”

Dirkson jumped up. “Objection, Your Honor. That’s out of order. The prosecution has rested its case.”

“You reopened your case to put Marcie Keller on the stand, and you’ve not yet rested it again. I think the court reporter will bear me out on that.”

“Well, I’m resting it now.”

“You can’t do that. I’ve already made my request to recall one of your witnesses.”

“Your Honor, he’s out of order,” Dirkson said. “I insist you rule I’ve rested my case, and return the defendant to the stand. There is no precedent for him recalling another prosecution witness now.”

“The order of proof is at the discretion of the court, Your Honor,” Steve Winslow said. “The prosecutor interrupted the defendant’s testimony to put on this witness out of order. To do so, he reopened his case. I must say that the unusual and unorthodox production of this testimony has caught me completely by surprise and forced me to reevaluate my case.”

“Nonsense,” Dirkson said. “How can he stand up here and say that when he knew about this witness all along, and he was the one who concealed her from me?”

“That’s not at issue, Your Honor,” Steve said. “As Your Honor has said, that is a matter for the Bar Association. What is at issue is that the prosecutor rested his case, and on the basis of that I decided to put the defendant on the stand. Now, before cross-examining her, the prosecutor has chosen to reopen his case. I submit, Your Honor, that for all the district attorney’s bluster, this was done for no practical purpose except to embarrass the defense in general and me in particular.”

“Nonsense,” Dirkson said. “This is a material witness with pertinent information that had previously been withheld.”

Steve smiled. “Perhaps,” he said. “But Your Honor will note, there was actually no new information elicited from this witness. There is nothing in Marcie Keller’s testimony that had not already been testified to on the witness stand by the defendant. The supposedly damaging facts she’s testified to are things we’ve already cheerfully admitted. Therefore, I submit that the production of this witness was not made in good faith for the purpose of bringing out new evidence against the defendant, but was totally for the purpose of laying the groundwork for charges against the witness herself and the attorneys for the defense.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Dirkson said. “Eyewitness testimony is always pertinent and admissible, even in the event the defendant has already admitted the crime.”

“Let’s try not to go off on a tangent,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Mr. Winslow, specifically, what is it you contend?”

“I contend that the witness Marcie Keller was put on out of order. I also contend that had she been part of the prosecution’s original case, I would have cross-examined the witnesses differently than I had, before I put the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, on the stand. It’s too late to correct that now-her direct examination has already been given. But I feel at the very least I should be given an opportunity to augment my cross-examination of one of the prosecution’s witnesses before the prosecutor uses this irregular testimony of Marcie Keller to cross-examine the defendant.”

“Mr. Winslow. Do you have some definite purpose in mind?”

“Absolutely, Your Honor. It is crucial to my case to be allowed to cross-examine a witness at this time.”

“I submit, Your Honor,” Dirkson said, “that that is absolute nonsense, if not an out-and-out lie. The defense attorney has used every stalling tactic he can think of to keep me from cross-examining the defendant. This is merely another one of them. I submit that his only real intention here is to postpone the moment when I get to cross-examine the defendant on the stand. He is so desperate to avoid that, he is willing to try anything. If you allow him to recall one witness, he’ll recall them all. And keep on recalling them until we have to adjourn and the case goes over the weekend.”

Steve Winslow held up his hand and shook his head. “I give you my assurance, Your Honor, that this is not the case. I wish to recall one witness only, and my cross-examination will be brief. And as to the allegation that I am unwilling to let the prosecutor cross-examine the defendant, that simply isn’t so. The defendant has told the absolute truth, and no cross-examination can hurt her. And as proof of this, let me state that if the prosecutor is willing to let me recall one of his witnesses for a brief cross-examination, I am willing to stipulate that when he cross-examines the defendant, the defense will not raise a single objection to any of his questions, whatever they may be.”

Judge Wallingsford frowned. “This is entirely irregular, Mr. Winslow.”

Dirkson was waving his hands. “Your Honor. Your Honor. One moment. On consideration, the prosecution is inclined to accept that stipulation.”

Judge Wallingsford looked at him with exasperation. “Well, the court is not. I don’t care what the prosecutor and the defense attorneys are willing to do, the court is not going to allow a defendant’s rights to be stipulated away in that manner. I must say, if the defense attorney refuses to object, the court will impose objections for him. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Dirkson said.

“The court is now going to rule. Mr. Dirkson, since you seemed so willing to enter into that stipulation, I must conclude that you have no real objection to the defense attorney recalling one of your witnesses. Proof is at the discretion of the court. It is my discretion that the witness be recalled. The witness will be recalled, cross-examined, and then if you have no further questions, you may once again rest your case. At which time the defendant will be returned to the stand.

“Mr. Winslow, what witness do you wish to recall?”

“Phil Danby, Your Honor.”

All eyes turned to the second row of the courtroom, where Phil Danby sat next to his employer, Milton Castleton.

“Very well,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Bring in the jury. Phil Danby, take the stand.”

While the jurors were being led in, Fitzpatrick leaned over to Winslow. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

“Gambling.”

“On what?”

“Frankly, a long shot.”

“Why are you doing that?”

Steve smiled grimly. “Because there’s nothing else to bet on.”

After the jurors had filed in and been seated, Judge Wallingsford addressed them. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Yesterday, the witness Marcie Keller, completed her direct examination. The defense has no cross-examination of her and that witness has been excused. At this point, the witness Phil Danby has been recalled for further cross-examination.

“Mr. Danby, I remind you you are still under oath.

“Mr. Winslow. Mr. Fitzpatrick. Let us proceed.”

Steve Winslow stood up, crossed in to the witness. He began his cross-examination almost conversationally, as Dirkson had done with Marcie Keller. “Mr. Danby, you testified, did you not, that you saw the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, on the afternoon when she left her employment with Milton Castleton, is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“You further testified that while you spoke to her on the phone several times, you had not seen her since that day until you saw her here in court. Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Is it, Mr. Danby? I don’t think that’s true. I put it to you that you saw the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, on June twenty-eighth, the day David Castleton met his death. Is that not a fact?”

“No, it is not.”

“You didn’t see the defendant on that day?”

“No, I did not.”

“Really, Mr. Danby? Didn’t you testify that on June twenty-eighth you were present at a meeting between David Castleton and his grandfather in Milton Castleton’s apartment?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I believe you referred to it as a strategy session, programming him for his meeting with Kelly Wilder?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“What time did David Castleton leave the apartment?”

“Six-thirty. As I’ve already testified.”

“And after David Castleton left for his appointment with the defendant, what did you and Milton Castleton do then?”

“Mr. Castleton was tired from the meeting and went off to bed. I went home to my apartment.”

“You live alone, Mr. Danby?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then you can’t verify that, can you?”

Danby shrugged. “I see no reason why I should.”

“You know, Mr. Danby, I personally find that rather strange. Your going home, I mean. You knew David Castleton was going to be meeting with the defendant. You were eager to find out the defendant’s name, address, what she was up to. There was no reason to assume David Castleton would be able to get that out of her. I wonder why you would choose to go home and leave that entirely up to him.”

“There’s nothing strange about that,” Danby said. “It simply wasn’t that important. We wanted to know what the defendant was up to, yes. But you have to remember, a settlement had already been made. This woman obviously intended to cause trouble of some kind or another, but as far as we were concerned, we’d taken care of it. We’d primed David to handle it. There was no reason to assume it was so important it couldn’t be entrusted to him. Now, if you don’t want to take my word for it, ask Milton Castleton and he’ll tell you the same thing. I did not involve myself personally at that point because it simply wasn’t that important.”

Steve smiled. “It may not have been that important to Milton Castleton, but I submit, for reasons unknown to him, it may have been that important to you. You testified that you left Milton Castleton’s apartment and went straight home that evening?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I put it to you that you didn’t. Is it not a fact that after you left Milton Castleton’s apartment you went straight to the singles bar on Third Avenue and staked it out from across the street?”

“No, it is not.”

“I think it is. I think you arrived there shortly after David Castleton did. I think you looked through the window and saw him at the bar engaged in conversation with Marcie Keller, the woman who testified yesterday on the witness stand.

“Which of course puzzled you. David Castleton was there for a particular purpose, and he wouldn’t be paying attention to any young woman unless she was the one coming on to him. Be that as it may, I think you then retreated from the window and continued to watch the bar from across the street. I think you were there when the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, showed up. You saw her go in, and you saw her and David Castleton come out.

“I think you tailed them to the restaurant Gino’s, waited outside while they had their dinner and then tailed them back to his apartment.

“Where you ran into a strange situation. Two detectives were staking out the place. They didn’t see you because you saw them first and took pains to see that they didn’t.

“And how did you spot them before they spotted you? For that matter, how did you spot them at all? Very simple. Because one of the detectives happened to be the young woman you had already seen talking to David Castleton in the bar. So you knew what they were, and you knew who they were there for. So you stayed out of sight, watched and waited.

“And what happened? An hour later the defendant came out alone and walked back to her apartment. The detectives followed. You followed right behind. The defendant walked back to a brownstone apartment house and went inside. The detectives took up positions, staking it out. Minutes later, a light on the second-floor front window came on. You figured that was the best you could do. With the detectives watching, you couldn’t get close enough to read the bell. Not without being seen. But you noted down the address.

“What did you do then? You went straight to David Castleton’s apartment. He was surprised to see you, of course. He hadn’t known you would be tagging along, because that wasn’t part of the plan. I don’t know what you told him, but probably something like his grandfather had sent you as an afterthought. At any rate, you told him you’d been there, tailed the defendant to her home and found out where she lived. You still didn’t have her name, but now at least you had her address.

“You gave him that address. You told it to him and had him write it down. That was the address on the folded piece of paper in his pants pocket. That’s why he had only her address and not her name.

“Then you questioned him. How did it go? What had he found out? What did she want?

“What he said floored you. It was the worst of all. Exactly what you had feared. This woman had proof that Herbert Clay wasn’t guilty of the embezzlement. The proof was a computer disk of a memo, which you thought had long since been erased from the files. But here it was, come back to haunt you.

“David Castleton showed it to you. Put the disk in and called it up on the computer. And there it was. The missing memo from Herbert Clay.

“David Castleton was very excited about it. He was glad you were there. He couldn’t wait to tell everyone. He was going to tell his grandfather first thing in the morning.

“Which was something you simply couldn’t allow.”

Steve paused, looked up at the witness. “And that’s when you shot him, isn’t it, Mr. Danby?”

Phil Danby appeared completely unruffled. If anything, his face showed the trace of a faint smile. “I most certainly did not.”

“Oh, yes, you did. You shot him with Herbert Clay’s gun. The gun you found two years ago when you supervised the cleaning out of Herbert Clay’s desk, as you have already testified. It was right there, where Herbert Clay said it was. You found it and you took it. Probably well before his trial. You’d already framed him for embezzlement, but if that didn’t come off you wanted to be prepared to frame him for something else. I’m sure you never dreamed at the time it would eventually be used to frame his sister.”

Steve smiled. “Which is ironic, Mr. Danby. Because you didn’t know she was his sister, did you? That was serendipity, wasn’t it? You had the gun merely because it was a weapon that could not be traced to you. The police could figure David Castleton had taken it from Herbert Clay’s desk and the murderer had picked it up in his apartment and used it. What a monumental stroke of luck it must have seemed to you when you found out the defendant and Herbert Clay were actually related.

“But that’s what happened, isn’t it? You shot David Castleton, and you dropped the gun next to him on the floor. Then you took the computer disk and got out. As far as you were concerned, it was a perfect frame. Even if the gun couldn’t be traced to the defendant, there was enough evidence against her. You and Milton Castleton knew David had left to meet the defendant. Then there were the waiters, bartenders and cab drivers who could put them together. And the private detectives who could put her at the scene of the crime.

“You killed him between a half hour to an hour after she left, but no medical determination of the time of death could be that precise. And, as expected, without actually altering the facts, the medical examiner did everything possible to slant the time element in the prosecution’s favor.

“There was only one more thing, one more gap you had to plug. The original computer disk. You left David Castleton’s apartment and went straight back to Kelly Clay Wilder’s.

“The young woman detective was still on guard. She showed no signs of leaving. If she had, you might have broken in that night. As it was, you had to let it go. You went home, got what little sleep you could and reported to work the next morning at nine o’clock at Milton Castleton’s apartment. You were there when the police called to inform Milton Castleton of his grandson’s death.

“I don’t know exactly what happened after that. But Milton Castleton would be demanding immediate police reports, and being Milton Castleton he would get them. So you would know almost immediately of Kelly Clay Wilder’s arrest. Some time after that and before I talked to the defendant and went to her apartment, you broke away from Castleton’s long enough to go there and get the computer disk. You had no problem finding it-the copy had been marked X dash one. It followed the original would be marked simply X. You found it, you took it, verified what it was and then destroyed it.

“You did one more thing. You knew from what David Castleton had told you that Kelly Clay Wilder had found that memo in the backup system of the computer. You got into the backup system yourself, found the file and deleted it.

“That’s what you did, didn’t you Mr. Danby?”

Danby shook his head. “No, I did not.”

“Yes, you did, Mr. Danby. Because everyone has a weakness. I’m not sure what yours is, but I would guess it’s the stock market. I assume you gambled with speculative stocks and got overextended, even for a man with your income. Which is why you embezzled from your employer and subsequently framed Herbert Clay for the crime. Which is why that memo was so devastating to you. Isn’t that right, Mr. Danby?”

“No, it is not.”

“Well, I happen to know that it is. You know how I happen to know?” Steve smiled. “Marcie Keller. Marcie Keller proves you did.”

Phil Danby said nothing. His puzzled frown seemed quite genuine.

“That surprises you, doesn’t it Mr. Danby? I thought it would. No, there is nothing in her testimony that implicates you. What implicates you is the fact she gave it at all.

“See, here’s what happened. You had the perfect frame and everything was going fine. The prosecution was making a case, and you thought that would be that.

“But then I put the defendant on the stand and she told her story. The story about the memo.

“Which is when you panicked, Mr. Danby. The only time in the whole affair you lost your head and made a stupid move. But the bit about the memo scared you. You knew you’d erased it from the computer, but still hearing about it struck too close to home.

“So you tried to guild the lily. To convict Kelly Clay Wilder. To give the prosecution everything they needed to clinch the case.

“You phoned in an anonymous tip. A tip to the police to check out the Taylor Detective Agency for any young operatives, one male, one female, who might have had David Castleton under surveillance on the night of June twenty-eighth. The detective Dan Fuller has yet to be found, but they got Marcie Keller all right.” Steve smiled. “Probably wasn’t that hard, what with her being an actress. Probably just called SAG. Anyway, they found her and they put her on the stand.

“Which is what gives you away, Mr. Danby. Because, aside from Mark Taylor and myself, no one, the defendant included, knew those detectives were there. The only way someone could have known was if he was there too. You fingered Marcie Keller, Mr. Danby. And that puts you at the scene of the crime.”

Steve bored in. “You killed David Castleton, Mr. Danby. Deliberately, in cold blood. You did it to cover up an embezzlement for which you had framed an innocent man. You took Herbert Clay’s gun and you shot David Castleton dead. Didn’t you, Mr. Danby?”

Danby’s look was almost amused, his smile ironic, mocking. “No, I did not,” he said.

There was a moment’s silence.

“You son of a bitch!”

The shrill voice cut through the courtroom like a knife. All heads turned to stare.

On the aisle in the second row, Milton Castleton had struggled to his feet. With one hand he was gripping the back of the bench in front of him for dear life to hold himself up. With the other he was pointing a long, bony, accusing finger straight at his associate, Phil Danby.

Everyone’s attention shifted from the pointing finger to the witness stand, where Phil Danby sat, where a transformation was taking place.

Under Steve Winslow’s cross-examination Phil Danby had been calm, unruffled, hadn’t turned a hair. But under the accusing glare of his employer, Phil Danby began to wilt. He simply could not meet the eyes of that frail, old man. Danby’s eyes faltered, his face went pasty white, and he began to tremble.

Then all at once he turned suddenly and vomited over the side of the witness stand.