The Tenth Case

22

Tom Burke devoted Tuesday morning's session to preempting Jaywalker's some-other-dude-did-it defense. First he recalled the superintendent of Barry Tannenbaum's building, Anthony Mazzini, and asked him point-blank if it had been he who had killed Tannenbaum. Mazzini's as tonished "Me?" came out so heartfelt and unrehearsed that Jaywalker realized immediately what Burke had done. He'd put the super back on the stand without ever telling him that he was going to pop that question to him. It was a brilliant tactic, and it worked. The jurors' reaction to Mazzini's gen uineness was evident from their own smiles and nods, and even one or two hard glares in Jaywalker's direction.

On cross, Jaywalker could do little but get Mazzini to admit he'd had, and still had access to, a key to Tannen baum's apartment, and that he'd been vaguely aware of a disagreement between Tannenbaum and the president of the co-op, Kenneth Redding. When Mazzini denied that he'd sided with Redding in the dispute, there was little Jay walker could do. On redirect examination, Burke asked his witness if he was sure he hadn't had some reason to want to kill Tannenbaum.

MR. MAZZINI: Kill him? The man used to tip me two grand at Christmastime.

Why would I want to kill him?

Even Jaywalker had to admit it was a pretty good question. He toyed with the idea of asking Mazzini if he knew what the asking price for Penthouse A was, and how much there might have been in it for him if he could have gotten Tannenbaum thrown out of the building for causing water damage to Redding's apartment. But all he had to go on was Samara's suggestion that Mazzini and Redding had shared a common interest, and faced with the witness's denials, his pursuit of that line of questioning would only have led him into a dead end and further antagonized the jurors.

So Jaywalker settled for getting the super to admit that he'd remained in the apartment for half an hour after the discovery of the body, that he'd walked around some, and that sure, he'd probably touched some things.

Not much, certainly, but-coupled with the fact that his fingerprints hadn't been found there-at least something for Jaywalker to talk about on summation.

Next Burke called Kenneth Redding, who'd flown in from Aruba the night before, cutting short a vacation, a fact that he seemed none too happy about. Yes, he'd had a dispute with Tannenbaum, Redding admitted, but that came with the job of being president of the co-op board. It was a tightly run building, and at one time or another he'd had issues with just about every one of its owners and tenants. The point of contention between Redding and Tan nenbaum had involved an unpaid bill of about thirteen thousand dollars, representing the cost of damage to Red ding's apartment not covered by Tannenbaum's insurance. Redding had demanded payment, and Tannenbaum had refused, claiming that Redding had taken advantage by upgrading his kitchen at Tannenbaum's expense. Redding denied that he'd done so.

MR. BURKE: In any event, given your fi nances and those of Mr. Tannenbaum, as you under stand them to have been, would you call the amount in dispute a lot of money?

MR. REDDING: Personally, I'd call it chump change.

MR. BURKE: Enough to kill someone over?

MR. REDDING: (Laughing) It'd take a helluva lot more than that to get me to kill someone.

The jurors' chuckles made it clear that they were in full agreement.

Again, about all Jaywalker could do on cross was to es tablish that Redding, like Mazzini, had a passkey that opened the door to every apartment in the building, though Redding was initially a little less forthcoming about admit ting the fact. Apparently the bylaws of the co-op didn't provide for the arrangement, but he'd gotten Mazzini to make him a key anyway.

MR. REDDING: You know, for emergency use.

MR. JAYWALKER: Like a fire, or a similar disaster?

MR. REDDING: Yeah, that sort of thing. Exactly.

MR. JAYWALKER: So in the event of a nuclear attack, say, you could go from floor to floor, unlock ing everyone's apartment?

MR. BURKE: Objection.

MR. JAYWALKER: I'll withdraw the question.

Burke followed up by calling Alan Manheim. The very first question out of Burke's mouth was whether Manheim currently had, or had ever had, a key to either Barry Tan nenbaum's apartment or Samara's town house. Manheim replied emphatically that he didn't, and never had.

Manheim testified that he'd been employed on a fulltime basis as Barry Tannenbaum's personal lawyer for eleven years. During that time, he'd been involved in, among other things, the purchase and sale of several homes and other properties, the negotiation of a divorce settlement with Tannenbaum's third wife, and the drawing up of a pre nuptial agreement between Barry and Samara, the terms of which fully protected Barry in the event of yet another divorce, and ensured that Samara would walk away with precisely what she'd brought to the marriage-which, in round numbers, had been nothing.

Manheim had continued to work for Tannenbaum in a variety of capacities, as significant as securing a non refundable ten-million-dollar advance to write an autobi ography, never even begun, and as mundane as paying overdue parking tickets. Then, about six months before Tannenbaum's death, he and Manheim had abruptly parted company.

MR. BURKE: And why was that?

MR. MANHEIM: We had a disagreement.

MR. BURKE: Would you describe the nature of the disagreement.

MR. MANHEIM: There were two issues, really. For one thing, there was Mr. Tannenbaum's health. He'd been diagnosed with cancer, and he wanted to update his will. Specifically, he wanted to know if there was any way he could disinherit his wife, and leave his estate entirely to his foundations, his endow ments, his university and various charities he'd set up.

MR. MANHEIM: I told him that even were he to write Samara out of his will, it wouldn't work. The law would step in and give her half of his assets.

MR. BURKE: Was that an accurate statement of the law?

MR. MANHEIM: Yes. It's so fundamental, they teach it to you in the first year of law school.

MR. BURKE: Is it fair to say that your response didn't particularly endear your self with Mr. Tannenbaum?

MR. MANHEIM: Yes, that's accurate. He wasn't happy about it.

MR. BURKE: You said there was another issue.

MR. MANHEIM: Yes.

MR. BURKE: Tell us about that.

MR. MANHEIM: Barry-how shall I say this? had a bit of a paranoid streak. He accused me of stealing, of embezzling funds from him.

MR. BURKE: Was there any merit to that accusation?

MR. MANHEIM: No, absolutely not. None whatsoever.

MR. BURKE: And how was the matter resolved, if indeed it was?

MR. MANHEIM: I became more and more in censed at his repeated accusations. Finally I offered my resignation.

MR. BURKE: And?

MR. MANHEIM: And Mr. Tannenbaum accepted it.

MR. BURKE: And six months later, did you get even by plunging a steak knife into his heart?

MR. MANHEIM: Absolutely not. I got even by securing an even better-paying job, and by continu ing to be the very best attorney I can possibly be.

If it was a crude way of eliciting a denial, it was also ef fective. What interested Jaywalker, however, wasn't what Burke had asked his witness; it was what he had refrained from asking. Which meant one of two things, as far as Jay walker was concerned. Either Burke didn't want to go there for some reason, or he was setting a trap for Jaywalker. There's a rule of thumb employed by just about all lawyers who try cases, and it goes like this: "Never ask a question unless you already know the answer."

As he did with most rules, Jaywalker chose to ignore it, but only selectively. His modification altered it to read, "If you're ahead on points, never ask a question unless you know the answer. If you're in trouble already, fuck it." Early in the second week of Samara Tannenbaum's trial, Jaywalker was a lot of things, but one thing he wasn't was ahead on points. It was definitely time to fuck it.

MR. JAYWALKER: Mr. Manheim, you say you landed an even better-paying job after leaving Mr. Tannenbaum's employ. Is that correct?

MR. MANHEIM: Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: Would you say Mr. Tannenbaum was underpaying you?

MR. MANHEIM: Considering everything I was doing, yes I would.

MR. JAYWALKER: I see. And what was he paying you?

MR. MANHEIM: (To the Court) Do I have to answer that?

THE COURT: I'm afraid so.

MR. MANHEIM: (Inaudible)

MR. JAYWALKER: Can't hear you.

MR. MANHEIM: Two point seven.

MR. JAYWALKER: Two point seven what?

MR. MANHEIM: Million.

MR. JAYWALKER: Wow.

MR. BURKE: Objection.

THE COURT: Sustained.

MR. JAYWALKER: Sorry. Two million, seven hun dred thousand. That was your total annual compensation?

MR. MANHEIM: Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: No bonus at the end of the year?

MR. MANHEIM: Well, yes, but that varied from year to year.

MR. JAYWALKER: I see. Well, why don't you tell

MR. MANHEIM: (To the Court) Do I really

THE COURT: Yes.

MR. MANHEIM: One point five. us how much it was for the last full year of your employment?

MR. JAYWALKER: Help me with the math here, if you would. Two point seven plus one point five comes to?

MR. MANHEIM: Four point two.

MR. JAYWALKER: Million.

MR. MANHEIM: Yes.

Okay, thought Jaywalker, here comes the trap Burke had set for him. But why quit now? The jurors seemed abso lutely stunned by the numbers, enough so that they appeared to be having real trouble with Manheim. Perhaps some of their distaste would rub off on Tannenbaum, as well. Jay walker had won his share of cases for no better reason than that the jurors ended up hating the victim more than they did the defendant. Besides, he was having too much fun with the witness to quit now. He shot one last look in Burke's di rection, to see if he could pick up a poker player's "tell." But if Burke was setting Jaywalker up, he gave no sign of it.

MR. JAYWALKER: And this embezzlement, or alleged embezzlement, I should say. What was the total amount in controversy, including end-of-the year bonuses, if there were any?

MR. MANHEIM: There were no bonuses involved.

MR. JAYWALKER: So?

MR. MANHEIM: (Looks at the Court)

THE COURT: Please answer the question.

MR. MANHEIM: Two hundred and twenty-seven.

MR. JAYWALKER: Two hundred and twenty seven what?

MR. MANHEIM: Million.

MR. JAYWALKER: Two hundred and twentyseven million dollars. And did Mr. Tannenbaum ever threaten to go to the police or the federal authorities, or to sue you civilly, or to go public with his claim? Any of those things?

MR. MANHEIM: He never threatened. He hinted, I guess you could say. I told him go ahead, I had nothing to hide.

MR. JAYWALKER: You weren't worried?

MR. MANHEIM: No. Why should I have been?

Just as there are ups and downs to any trial, so, too, are there special moments. Alan Manheim had delivered such a special moment in the midst of his answer to Jaywalker's question. Not with what he said, but how he said it. He got the "No" out all right. But two words later, on should, his voice cracked, and the word came out in falsetto. No one missed it. No one could have missed it. So Jaywalker let it hang there for a good fifteen seconds, staring at the witness, not saying a word.

If you don't think fifteen seconds can be an eternity, try doing absolutely nothing for that long, right now.

Finally, Jaywalker broke his own silence just long enough to ask one final question.

MR. JAYWALKER: Tell me, Mr. Manheim. That two hundred and twenty-seven million dollars. Would you call that chump change?

MR. MANHEIM: No.

They broke for lunch.

"You shredded him," said Samara, once she and Jay walker were safely out of earshot of the jurors. "You were sensational."

She was right, at least about the shredding part. For a prosecution witness, Alan Manheim had come off quite poorly. His multimillion-dollar compensation, along with the distinct possibility that he'd stolen many times that amount from his employer, had to have had a negative impact on jurors who worked hard just to make ends meet at the end of the month. Still, it was quite a stretch to ask those same jurors to conclude that because Manheim was overpaid and perhaps even a thief, he was therefore also a murderer. And even if they wanted to make that leap and consider a scenario in which Manheim had murdered Barry Tannenbaum before Tannenbaum could expose the em bezzlement, then made it look as though Samara had done it, there remained the little problem of access. How could Manheim have sneaked into the building past Jose Lugo, gotten into Tannenbaum's apartment, stabbed him to death, locked the door on his way out without a key and slipped out of the building past Lugo? And even if he'd managed to do all those things, that was the easy part. The hard part would have been getting into Samara's town house without a key, hiding the towel, the blouse (her blouse) and the knife, and then sneaking back out-all while Samara had been there.

"Don't get cocky," he cautioned Samara. "We had a good moment, but in the long run, it probably doesn't mean anything."

"If I feel like getting cocky," she smiled, "I'll get cocky." And then she did the one-raised-eyebrow thing.

That from a woman who was an odds-on favorite to end up with twenty-five years to life from this trial. How she was able to joke about it, Jaywalker had no idea. Not only joke about it, but actually squeeze a laugh out of him.

"Go get something to eat," he told her. "I'll see you back in the courtroom." And before she could turn that into a joke, too, he turned and walked away.

That afternoon Burke called the fourth and last of Jay walker's "suspects," William Smythe. Smythe, a CPA with an English accent and a tweedy three-piece suit, was Barry Tannenbaum's full-time personal accountant. At least he had been, up until the time of Tannenbaum's death.

As he had with Alan Manheim, Burke began by having Smythe make it clear that he'd never had a key to either Barry's apartment or Samara's town house. Then he asked him if he'd ever had a dispute with Tannenbaum, or if Tan nenbaum had ever accused him of any wrongdoing.

MR. SMYTHE: Absolutely not. I mean, as would be the case with any two people who worked to gether on financial matters for sixteen years, we had our occasional differences of opinion as to how to do certain things. But it was never more than that. I loved Barry like a brother, and I'd like to think he felt the same way about me.

Pardon me while I vomit, thought Jaywalker. But from the look Judge Sobel shot his way, he realized he must have done more than just think it. Jaywalker's wife used to accuse him of snorting out loud whenever he wanted to register his dis approval of something but didn't want to come right out and say so. Perhaps he'd snorted just now, though he hadn't been aware of doing so. Evidently it was becoming an un conscious habit, like a tremor or a facial tic. Maybe it was the first sign of dementia, of early-onset Alzheimer's disease.

God, how he needed to get out of this racket.

Burke had Smythe describe his duties as Tannenbaum's accountant, and they were extensive-not only in their breadth, but in the depth of trust they revealed. Smythe ran his employer's personal finances far more than Manheim had. He kept track of receipts and expenditures, balanced the books and juggled half a dozen bank accounts. He enjoyed full power of attorney to sign his employer's name to leases and other contracts. When a check went out over Barry Tannenbaum's name, chances were William Smythe had actually signed it, a fact well known and condoned by all of Tannenbaum's many bankers.

Aside from his I-loved-him-like-a-brother speech, Smythe came off as a genuinely likeable witness. Unlike Manheim, he'd had no reason to fear retaliation at the hand of Barry Tannenbaum. And had he been inclined to steal any of Barry's riches, he could have done so easily enough, with the simple stroke of a pen.

On cross-examination, Jaywalker decided against at tacking Smythe and in favor of adopting him as his own witness. There remained only two names on Tom Burke's witness list, one of which Jaywalker recognized as a hand writing expert. He figured that the other one had to be someone from the company who had written the insurance policy on Barry Tannenbaum's life. It made sense that Burke would wind up his case with his evidence of motive-in other words, leaving best for last. Samara had assured Jaywalker over and over again that while she rec ognized her signature on the application and conceded that the funds for the premium appeared to have come out of her checking account, she'd known nothing of the policy until Jaywalker himself had broken the news to her.

Maybe Smythe knew something about it.

MR. JAYWALKER: Mr. Smythe, you've described how you enjoyed complete access to Barry Tannen baum's books and bank accounts. Did you have simi lar access to Samara's account?

MR. SMYTHE: In a way, albeit indirectly.

Albeit? In all his years of practice, Jaywalker had never before heard a witness utter the word. It struck him as so bizarre, in fact, that he wondered if it might not have some hidden significance. In a lesser trial, he would have chosen to play around with it a little, to see if he couldn't at very least make the witness seem patrician, removed from the real world inhabited by the jurors. But he decided to let it pass and focused instead on the other interesting word Smythe had used in his answer.

MR. JAYWALKER: What do you mean by indirectly?

MR. SMYTHE: In a technical sense, Mrs. Tannenbaum's account was held jointly with her husband. Either of them could make deposits or write checks. Although the way it turned out in practice, Mr. Tannenbaum made all the deposits, and Mrs. Tannenbaum wrote all the checks.

A ripple of knowing laughter from the jury box. Samara the freeloader, the sponger. Not a good image.

MR. JAYWALKER: So did you occasionally sign checks for Samara?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes, if you choose to look at it that way. I prefer to think that I was signing them on behalf of Mr. Tannenbaum, in order to cover some of his wife's expenses.

MR. JAYWALKER: And in the same vein, did you from time to time present Samara with documents for her to sign?

MR. SMYTHE: I did.

MR. JAYWALKER: What sorts of documents?

MR. SMYTHE: Oh, tax returns, driver's li cense renewals, health insurance claims, credit card contracts. That sort of thing.

MR. JAYWALKER: In other words, when there were agencies or entities involved who wouldn't be expected to be comfortable accepting your signature in place of hers?

MR. SMYTHE: That's a good way of looking at it.

MR. JAYWALKER: And would you characterize Samara as having been extremely diligent in reading through each of the items you presented for her sig nature, or somewhat less than extremely diligent?

MR. SMYTHE: Somewhat less.

A couple of chuckles from the jury box. Samara the airhead, the bubble-brain. Fine with Jaywalker.

MR. JAYWALKER: In fact, there were lots of times when she'd indicate in one way or another that she didn't want to be bothered and left the reading of the fine print to you. Is that fair to say?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: And even a lot of the large print?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes, again. Except in the case of tax returns. Those I always made her read before I permitted her to sign.

MR. JAYWALKER: Because the law compels you to, right?

MR. SMYTHE: And because it's the right thing to do.

Jaywalker walked over to the prosecution table and asked for the original of the life insurance policy applica tion. It had a tag on it indicating that Burke had had it premarked as People's Exhibit 9. Jaywalker removed the tag and handed the document to the court reporter, asking her to re-mark it as a defense exhibit.

Prosecutors hate it when you do that.

MR. JAYWALKER: Mr. Smythe, I show you what's been marked Defendant's A for identification and ask you if you recognize it.

MR. SMYTHE: Yes. Mr. Burke showed it to me some time ago.

MR. JAYWALKER: And what do you recognize it as?

MR. SMYTHE: It's an application for an in surance policy on Mr. Tannenbaum's life. And it ap pears to have been signed by Mrs. Tannenbaum.

MR. JAYWALKER: And the defense stipulates that in fact it was.

THE COURT: Mr. Burke?

MR. BURKE: So stipulated.

What else could Burke do? Jaywalker had not only co-opted his second-best exhibit, a runner-up to the murder weapon itself, now he was stealing Burke's thunder by conceding that the exhibit bore Samara's signature. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaywalker could see Burke scratch ing a name off his witness list, no doubt that of the hand writing expert. Now, completing his trifecta, Jaywalker offered the document into evidence as Defendant's A. Burke could do nothing but mutter, "No objection."

MR. JAYWALKER: Isn't it a fact, Mr. Smythe, that Samara signed this document only because you placed it in front of her and asked her to?

MR. SMYTHE: That is absolutely not the fact.

MR. JAYWALKER: Yet you've told us that that exact thing happened rou tinely, didn't you?

MR. SMYTHE: It happened.

MR. JAYWALKER: Routinely?

MR. BURKE: Objection.

THE COURT: Perhaps you'd like to re phrase the question.

MR. JAYWALKER: Sure. Would you say it hap pened more than once over the years since Barry and Samara married?

MR. SMYTHE: More than once? Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: More than half a dozen times?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: More than a dozen?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: More than two dozen?

MR. SMYTHE: Most likely.

MR. JAYWALKER: Routinely?

MR. BURKE: Objection.

THE COURT: Sustained.

Again Jaywalker walked over to the prosecution table and huddled with Burke.

"What is it you want this time?" Burke asked. "My undershorts?"

"Not yet," said Jaywalker. "But I'll take that check over there, the one that paid for the premium."

Burke coughed it up and sat helplessly by as Jaywalker had the exhibit re-marked, identified by the witness and received in evidence as Defendant's B.

MR. JAYWALKER: Do you recognize the signa ture on that check?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes, I do.

MR. JAYWALKER: Would you read us the name that was signed.

MR. SMYTHE: "Samara M. Tannenbaum."

MR. JAYWALKER: Did Samara in fact sign that check?

MR. SMYTHE: No.

MR. JAYWALKER: Sorry, I couldn't hear your answer.

MR. SMYTHE: No, she didn't sign it.

MR. JAYWALKER: Who did sign it?

MR. SMYTHE: I did.

MR. JAYWALKER: You signed Samara's name?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes.

Jaywalker had a few more questions written down for Smythe, but anything else was going to be severely anti climactic. He knew the accountant would no doubt have a logical explanation for having done what he did. But why give him the chance to rehabilitate himself? Better to leave that to Burke on redirect examination and then come back on recross.

A lot of lawyers never know enough to quit while they're ahead. Jaywalker, who'd been ahead precious little in this trial, was going to be damned if he made that mistake.

"No further questions," he said.

Burke was on his feet before Jaywalker was off his.

MR. BURKE: A few minutes ago Mr. Jay walker asked you about this document, Defendant's A in evidence. Specifically, after conceding that it bears his client's signature, he asked you if she signed it only because you told her to. Do you recall his ask ing you that?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes, I do.

MR. BURKE: And you replied, rather em phatically

MR. JAYWALKER: Objection.

THE COURT: Sustained. Leave out the char acterization, please.

MR. BURKE: And you replied with the words "absolutely not."

MR. SMYTHE: Yes.

MR. BURKE: Can you tell us why you said, "absolutely not"?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes. I never gave Mrs. Tannen baum that document to sign. In fact, I'd never even seen it until you showed it to me, several weeks after Mr. Tannenbaum's death.

MR. BURKE: How can you be certain that you never gave it to Mrs. Tannenbaum to sign?

MR. SMYTHE: Because unlike Mrs. Tannen baum, I read every word of everything I ever gave her.

Nicely done, thought Jaywalker. But how was Smythe going to explain away his signature on the check? It turned out it wouldn't take long for him to find out, and he didn't like the explanation any better than he'd liked the previous one.

MR. BURKE: What about Defendant's B in evidence, the check that paid for the premium? You say you signed that yourself. Is that correct?

MR. SMYTHE: Yes, it is.

MR. BURKE: How do you explain that?

MR. SMYTHE: Just as I used to collect Mr. Tan nenbaum's bills as they came in, so did I collect Mrs. Tannenbaum's. When a bill showed up from a life in surance company in the amount of some twentyseven-thousand dollars, I made it a point to question Mr. Tannenbaum about it.

MR. BURKE: Not Mrs. Tannenbaum?

MR. SMYTHE: No, I figured that wouldn't have done me much good.

MR. BURKE: Why not?

MR. SMYTHE: Let's just say that Mrs. Tannenbaum doesn't have much of a head for business.

More laughter, again at the expense of the bubble-brain.

MR. BURKE: And what was Mr. Tannenbaum's response?

MR. SMYTHE: I don't recall his exact words. But as was his habit with just about all of his wife's bills, he told me to go ahead and pay it.

MR. BURKE: You say, "just about all." Were there exceptions?

MR. SMYTHE: I do recall that on one occasion he declined to cover a twelve-thousand-dollar charge for a bathroom mat in the shape of an elephant. He felt that was a wee bit extravagant, and he made her return it.

MR. BURKE: I see. In any event, when Mr. Tannenbaum told you to go ahead and pay the bill for the insurance premium, what did you do?

MR. SMYTHE: I paid it.

MR. BURKE: And how did you do that?

MR. SMYTHE: I wrote out a check, signed Mrs. Tannenbaum's name and sent it off.

MR. BURKE: And the check you wrote out and signed. Is that Defendant's B in evidence?

MR. SMYTHE: It is.

And just like that, the last of Jaywalker's "suspects" was, for all intents and purposes, crossed off the list.

Burke had one remaining witness, and following a recess, he called her. Miranda Thomas was a dark-skinned woman in her thirties or forties, with a slight singsong lilt to her voice that suggested to Jaywalker that she might have been born in Jamaica. The Caribbean version, not the Queens one. She was employed as a custodian of records by the Equitable Life Insurance Company. Burke had her identify Defendant's A as an application for a term life in surance policy, submitted by Samara Tannenbaum on the life of her husband, Barrington Tannenbaum, in the amount of twenty-five million dollars. Next he had her identify Defendant's B as the twenty-seven-thousand-dollar check that represented the initial-and, as it turned out, the only-premium paid toward the policy. Then he handed her an original of the policy itself and had it introduced as People's 10 in evidence. It seemed to Jaywalker that Burke derived great satisfaction from finally being allowed to get one of his own documents received as a prosecution exhibit.

MR. BURKE: You used the phrase "term" a moment ago. What is a term life insurance policy?

MS. THOMAS: A term policy continues in ef fect for a stated period of time. During that period, or term, as well as during any subsequent renewal pe riods, a term policy pays off in case of death. But un like a whole life policy, a term policy builds no equity. Hence, it has no cash value or value that can be borrowed against. At the end of the term, unless renewed, it has no worth.

MR. BURKE: What was the term of this particular policy?

MS. THOMAS: Six months.

MR. BURKE: Is that a normal period for a life insurance policy?

MS. THOMAS: No. A year is much more com mon. But we'll issue a six-month policy if asked to, under certain conditions.

MR. BURKE: What sorts of conditions?

MS. THOMAS: People occasionally take out a short-term policy when they're going to be traveling abroad or engaging in some dangerous occupation. If you were going up in a space shuttle, for example, you might want a policy of that sort.

MR. BURKE: As far as you know, was Mr. Tannenbaum planning on going into space?

MS. THOMAS: Not so far as I know.

MR. BURKE: Are you by any chance familiar with the date of Mr. Tannen baum's death?

MS. THOMAS: Yes, I have it right here in my notes.

MR. BURKE: How long before Mr. Tannen baum's death was this policy first applied for?

MS. THOMAS: Let me see. Thirty-three days.

MR. BURKE: And paid for?

MS. THOMAS: Twenty-seven days.

MR. BURKE: And issued?

MS. THOMAS: Twenty-two days. Though by regulation, it would have related back to the date the check was put in the mail and postmarked. So in that respect, twenty-seven days, again.

MR. BURKE: Do you know if Mr. Tannen baum was required to undergo a medical examination before this policy was issued?

MS. THOMAS: No, he would not have been.

MR. BURKE: Why not?

MS. THOMAS: Because the policy was written with certain exclusions, so as to exempt death from any specified pre-existing medical conditions. As you can see from the application, several of those are typed in under the medical history section. Specifically, had Mr. Tannenbaum died from either cancer or heart dis ease, the policy would not have paid off.

MR. BURKE: Wouldn't you consider those pretty major exclusions?

MR. JAYWALKER: Objection.

THE COURT: Sustained.

MR. BURKE: Had Mr. Tannenbaum not died during the term of the policy, and had Mrs. Tannenbaum elected to renew it for succeeding terms, would the premium have remained the same?

MS. THOMAS: No. As Mr. Tannenbaum got older, the premium would have increased with each renewal, eventually becoming prohibitively expensive.

MR. BURKE: So as a long-term investment, how much sense does this sort of policy make?

MS. THOMAS: No sense at all, really. It only makes sense if you're afraid the individual is likely to die very soon.

MR. BURKE: But not of cancer.

MS. THOMAS: Correct.

MR. BURKE: And not of heart disease.

MS. THOMAS: Correct again.

MR. BURKE: Did there come a time when Equitable learned of Mr. Tannenbaum's death?

MS. THOMAS: Yes.

MR. BURKE: Was that because a claim was made under the policy?

MS. THOMAS: No, no claim has yet been made, so far as I can ascertain.

MR. BURKE: How long does one have to make a claim?

MS. THOMAS: The policy says seven years. But the courts seem to say a claim can always be made.

MR. BURKE: So how did the folks at Equi table learn of Mr. Tannen baum's death?

MS. THOMAS: Like everyone else, I imagine. Someone at Equitable saw it on the news or read about it in the paper.

MR. BURKE: And did there come a time when either that someone or another someone at Equitable put two and two together and realized, "Hey, we've got a twenty-five-million-dollar policy on that guy"?

MS. THOMAS: Yes, something like that. Ac cording to our records, the issuing agent, a Mr. Gari baldi, realized that.

MR. BURKE: And what, if anything, did Mr. Garibaldi do at that point?

MS. THOMAS: He informed his supervisor.

MR. BURKE: And what did his supervisor do?

MS. THOMAS: He phoned your supervisor. He thought it looked pretty fish

MR. JAYWALKER: Objection.

THE COURT: Sustained, as to anything after, "He phoned your supervisor." The rest is stricken, and the jury will disregard it.

But there it was, hanging in midair, just waiting for the jurors to fill in the final syllable for themselves. No openbook exam, with the answers typed in bold at the end of each chapter, could ever have been easier.

Burke sat down, barely able to suppress a triumphant smirk. Jaywalker had labored hard and long to prepare the jury for just this testimony. He'd brought up the life insurance business as early as jury selection and hammered away at it repeatedly. He'd talked about it again in his opening state ment. He'd even tried to defuse it in his cross-examination of the previous witness, the accountant, Mr. Smythe. But none of those efforts had come close to preparing the jury for just how devastating the evidence would prove to Samara. Talk about motive? Here she'd bet twenty-seven thousand dollars of her own money, hoping to rake in a pot of twenty-five million on the possibility that within six months' time her husband would be dead. Not from cancer or heart disease, the things he was known to have had, and the things that just about everybody died from. What did that leave? Drag racing? Lightning? Snakebite? Spontaneous human combustion?

What it left was murder.

Still, Jaywalker couldn't very well leave Miranda Thomas alone. She'd hurt Samara far too much for that. He rose slowly from his seat, gathered his notes and worked his way over to the lectern, all the while giving the witness his most dangerous gunfighter squint, as though he knew he had something on her.

Though Lord knew he didn't.

MR. JAYWALKER: Ms. Thomas, you'd have us believe that policies such as this, where the payout is huge but so are the premiums, make no sense except for risk takers. Yet that's not quite true, is it?

MS. THOMAS: Excuse me?

MR. JAYWALKER: Isn't it true that there's an en tirely separate category of individuals who take out precisely this sort of life insurance with very little re gard to risky endeavors?

MS. THOMAS: I'm not sure what you're getting at.

MR. JAYWALKER: By any chance, does the term "estate taxes" help you re member?

MS. THOMAS: I don't know.

MR. JAYWALKER: You do know what estate taxes are, don't you?

MS. THOMAS: Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: What are they?

MS. THOMAS: They're the percentage the government takes out of an es tate before it gets distributed.

MR. JAYWALKER: Do all estates get taxed?

MS. THOMAS: No.

MR. JAYWALKER: Only those up in the millions, right?

MS. THOMAS: Right.

MR. JAYWALKER: Only those of the rich?

MS. THOMAS: Right.

MR. JAYWALKER: Was Barry Tannenbaum rich?

MS. THOMAS: I wouldn't know.

MR. JAYWALKER: Really?

MS. THOMAS: Really.

MR. JAYWALKER: Had you ever heard of him? Before his death, I mean.

MS. THOMAS: Yes.

MR. JAYWALKER: What had you heard about him?

MS. THOMAS: I don't know.

MR. JAYWALKER: Let me help you. Had you

MS. THOMAS: No.

MR. JAYWALKER: One of the tallest?

MS. THOMAS: No. heard that he was one of the oldest men in the world?

MR. JAYWALKER: One of the best looking?

MS. THOMAS: No.

MR. JAYWALKER: What had you heard?

MS. THOMAS: That he was rich.

MR. JAYWALKER: One of the richest in the en tire world?

MS. THOMAS: Supposedly.

MR. JAYWALKER: Ms. Thomas, isn't it a fact, a dirty little fact, that policies of this sort are frequently used by the very, very rich as a strategy to avoid pay ing estate taxes?

MS. THOMAS: I suppose that's possible.

MR. JAYWALKER: They can afford the huge pre miums, after all. And the payouts, when they're made, aren't counted as part of their estates. So they're distributed tax-free. Right?

MS. THOMAS: I guess.

MR. JAYWALKER: You guess? Or am I right?

MS. THOMAS: You're right.

MR. JAYWALKER: So really, companies like yours engage in this game. They collect these huge premiums, which are calculated by actuaries to more than cover the huge payouts. Everybody wins, don't they?

MS. THOMAS: You could say so.

MR. JAYWALKER: Except the government, which gets cheated out of its revenue. And who do you think gets taxed in order to make up that lost reve nue?

MS. THOMAS: I wouldn't know.

MR. JAYWALKER: Of course you would. You get taxed, and I get taxed, and Mr. Burke gets taxed. And Stanley Merkel here, and Leona Sturdivant, and Vito

MR. BURKE: Objection!

THE COURT: Sustained.

MR. JAYWALKER: — Todesco, and Shirley John son, and

MR. BURKE: Objection! Objection!

THE COURT: The objection is sustained. Sit down, Mr. Jaywalker. (Mr. Jaywalker sits) Thank you. The jury is instructed to disregard the refer ences made to individual jurors. Mr. Jaywalker, do you have any further questions of the witness?

MR. JAYWALKER: No.

Burke did, though. He had Ms. Thomas insist that by writing such policies, her company was acting perfectly legally. The insurance industry was highly regulated, she explained, and couldn't get away with breaking the law. Furthermore, even with its tax advantages, the six-month premium continued to make the Tannenbaum policy highly unusual as an investment strategy, because of the exclu sion clause.

On recross, Jaywalker tried to get her to say that the six month term of the policy might represent nothing more sinister than a simple shortage of funds on the part of the premium payer. When she hedged, Jaywalker abruptly changed course, something he'd earned a well-deserved reputation for doing over the years.

MR. JAYWALKER: Personally, you don't see this as a tax-avoidance strategy at all, do you, Ms. Thomas?

MS. THOMAS: No, I don't.

MR. JAYWALKER: You see it as a transparent, high-stakes bet that Mr. Tannenbaum was going to be dead within six months, don't you?

MS. THOMAS: Exactly.

MR. JAYWALKER: And not dead from cancer or heart disease, right?

MS. THOMAS: Right.

MR. JAYWALKER: As you tried to say earlier, before I so rudely interrupted you, the whole thing looks pretty damn fishy to you, doesn't it?

MS. THOMAS: (To the Court) Am I allowed to answer that?

THE COURT: Yes.

MS. THOMAS: I'd say it looks more than fishy.

MR. JAYWALKER: What does it look like to you?

MS. THOMAS: (Looks at the Court)

THE COURT: Go ahead.

MS. THOMAS: You're not going to like this, but it looks to me like your client took out the pol icy because she planned on killing her husband.

There are courtrooms, and there are quiet courtrooms. Right then, that one was as quiet as any that Jaywalker had ever been in. It was as though the judge, the staff, the jurors and the spectators were witnessing the complete and utter self-destruction of a lawyer and his client, right before their very eyes. Talk about spontaneous human combustion. It was as though it wouldn't have surprised anyone if, at that very moment, Jaywalker had burst into flames, or vaporized. Instead, he plunged right on, as though totally oblivious.

MR. JAYWALKER: Now, you're not a detective, are you, Ms. Thomas?

MS. THOMAS: No, of course not.

MR. JAYWALKER: Or a federal agent?

MS. THOMAS: No.

MR. JAYWALKER: If you don't mind my asking, how far did you go in school?

MS. THOMAS: I have a high school equivalency diploma.

MR. JAYWALKER: And yet you can see clear through this little scheme of Samara's, can't you?

MS. THOMAS: Yes, I can.

MR. JAYWALKER: It's that obvious, isn't it?

MS. THOMAS: I sure think so.

MR. JAYWALKER: Tell me, Ms. Thomas. Has it ever occurred to you that's it's a little bit too obvious?

MS. THOMAS: What do you mean by that?

MR. JAYWALKER: What I mean is that it's so Goddamned obvious that it's got to be a frame! That no one in their right mind could possibly believe they could get away with

His speech was drowned out by Tom Burke's shouts of objection, and by the repeated banging of the judge's gavel. When finally some semblance of quiet was restored, which took a minute, Jaywalker took advantage of it to say, "No more questions." And Burke, red-faced and livid, an nounced that The People's case had concluded.