“The victim ended up in Wickersham Hospital suffering severe gunshot wounds of the face and head. The People will call the Assistant Medical Examiner of New York County who will describe to you in detail the cause of death of the victim in this case, that cause being the gunshot wounds perpetrated by the defendant on the twenty-fifth of July in the year 1964.
“The prosecution would like to point out to the jury at this time — although the judge will undoubtedly do so in his charge to the jury — that the fact that eight years passed between the assault and the death of the victim does not in any way affect the charge of murder. There is no statute of limitations on murder, and had Raymond Neeley died as a result of that gunshot wound twenty, thirty, or even forty years later, the charge would remain the same.
“Ladies and gentlemen, after you hear all the evidence in this case, you can only come to one conclusion: that the prosecution has proven beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant committed premeditated murder in cold blood, and accordingly the prosecution will ask you to render the only possible verdict under the law: ‘Guilty of murder in the first degree.’
“Thank you very much.”
Varick walked over and sat down. The silence that had attended his statement was broken by the rustle of bodies assuming more comfortable positions in their chairs. Judge Waxler turned toward the defense table.
“Mr. Ross, would you care to make an opening statement?”
Ross came to his feet and nodded.
“A very short one, Your Honor. May it please Your Honor, Mr. Foreman, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: You have just heard a very dramatic presentation of what the prosecution claims happened on a certain night eight years ago. However, the prosecutor wasn’t there at the time, any more than I was. He was not a witness.”
A brief titter swept the room, instantly stilled. Ross did not smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the only evidence the jury is permitted to believe is the proven and believable evidence that comes from the witness stand, and that evidence, I maintain, will demonstrate a completely different set of circumstances from that which the prosecution has so imaginatively described.
“The evidence in this case will show as follows: that the accused, Billy Dupaul, was the victim of a swindle scheme, and that in the course of the perpetration of this swindle, one of the swindlers suffered an accidental wound and eventually died from it.
“The defense is prepared to prove that Billy Dupaul was handed a gun and told to shoot to defend his own life as well as that of a companion, and under the extremely extenuating circumstances that prevailed, did, indeed, pull the trigger. We do not deny that Billy was guilty of folly, of extremely poor judgment in going into a bar, getting drunk, and allowing himself to be picked up by a woman in this state, nor do we deny it was extremely naive of Billy not to have realized he was the intended victim of a swindle, but if poor judgment or naïveté were a crime, there would be few of us free to be here and involve ourselves in this trial today. It must also be remembered, ladies and gentlemen, that at the time of these events, Billy Dupaul was barely nineteen years of age, with little experience of life, and no experience of liquor at all.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.”
Ross sat down and the shifting of bodies repeated itself. In the press box reporters exchanged glances; the charge of swindle was a new aspect. They settled down to what they were sure would be an interesting trial, as all those of Ross were. At the prosecution table Gorman was looking confident, not put off at all by the opening statement of the defense; he expected almost anything from Ross, and especially when he knew Ross was in a bind, as he was in this case. Paul Varick shuffled his notes, checked them one last time, and rose.
“For our first witness, we call Joseph Paretta.”
Paretta, a dapper little man, took the stand and was sworn in. From his cool and collected manner it was evident that he was not on the witness stand for the first time. Varick moved forward.
“What is your name?”
“Joseph Paretta.”
“What is your business or occupation?”
“I’m a stenotypist. A court reporter.”
“By whom are you employed?”
“I’m employed by the New York Supreme Court.”
“Were you employed by the New York Supreme Court as a court reporter on November fourteenth to November twenty-seventh of the year 1964?”
“I was.”
“Did you attend and take the minutes of the proceedings of the trial of the People of the State of New York against William Dupaul, Indictment Number 1263 of the year 1964?”
“I did.”
“I show you this transcript of the testimony of that trial. Is this a true and accurate transcript of that testimony, recorded by you in stenotype and later transcribed?”
The dapper man took the file handed him, checked his initials on the corner of each sheet while the courtroom waited, and then started to hand it back.
“Yes, sir. It is.”
“Mr. Paretta, please keep the transcript. Now, will you read the testimony of Raymond Neeley, beginning at the top of page 63 of that transcript?”
Paretta pulled the thick sheaf of papers back into his lap, riffled through the pages to the one requested, cleared his throat and began to read.
Q: Where did you first meet the defendant?
A: I was on my way home from a movie and I was passing this bar when the door opened and this man — the defendant — staggered out and grabbed my arm. He started to fall but I managed to help him keep his balance, but instead of thanking me, he started to swear. He said, “What a goddam crummy town, a guy can’t even get a lousy goddam drink—”
Paretta’s voice droned on, emotionless, avoiding with professional skill any dramatizing or editorializing through intonation. Billy Dupaul, his face a mask, slouched in his chair and stared at the floor. Steve Sadler was listening interestedly, as if he had not read the same testimony time after time. Ross watched the jury quite casually. The twelve people in the box seemed enthralled by the testimony.
The reading continued page after page, the only sounds in the silent courtroom other than Paretta’s even voice an occasional cough and the crackle of paper as Paretta turned the pages. The testimony followed Varick’s opening statement almost word for word. Paretta turned the final page of Neeley’s testimony. He read:
Q: What did he say then?
A: He said, “I’ll find it easier with you out of the way.” And then he shot me, and I woke up in the hospital.
Paretta stopped, looking at Varick. “Do you want me to read more?”
“That’s enough, thank you,” Varick said. He turned toward the defense table. “Cross-examination.”
“Thank you,” Ross said, and came to his feet. He walked over and stationed himself before the court reporter.
“Mr. Paretta, while you are still on the stand, will you please turn to page 116 of the transcript? Thank you. Now, would you please start reading beginning on line five?”
Paretta dutifully found the place, cleared his throat, and began.