Q: What happened then?
A: I remember feeling dizzy and sick to my stomach and mad at myself because this dame had taken her own clothes off, too, and she was really built, and she was rubbing up against me and her hands were all over and I knew damn well I couldn’t do a damn thing all drunk and dizzy like that, and then all of a sudden she makes this funny noise—
Q: What do you mean by “funny” noise?
A: I mean before she was all sexy, but now she sounded sort of scared, and she pulls me around and there’s this guy in the doorway and he’s got this suitcase in his hand and he stares at us on the bed and of course it’s too late to try and duck under the covers, and then he starts to swear and he drops the suitcase and runs over to the dresser like a crazy man and starts digging in one of the drawers, cussing all the time, not loud, but crazy like—
Q: What were you doing during this time?
A: I was froze, that’s all — froze, wishing I was a jillion miles away, wondering if it was real or was I dreaming it.
Q: And then what happened?
A: Then I remember he turns around from the dresser and he’s got this gun in his hand and it’s a big bastard, looks like it’s all barrel from where I sit, like looking down a tunnel, and then this dame is shoving something in my hand I can tell is a gun, but what do I care? It’s protection, that’s all I care about, and this guy starts to bring his gun up — and I shot first, that’s all. It was self-defense. He was going to kill us both, only I shot first.
Q: In self-defense...?
A: Yes, sir, What else? I never saw the man before in my life. What reason would I have to shoot a stranger?
Q: And then what happened?
A: The man fell down and he was bleeding real bad from the mouth and that’s when I really started to feel sick to my stomach and I got off the bed and tried to find the bathroom but I just about made it to the kitchen, because I remembering leaning on the stove and heaving into the sink and I didn’t think I was ever going to stop but at least getting that booze out of me sobered me up a bit. And after that I went back into the bedroom and the man was still lying on the floor bleeding. I sure didn’t want to go back in there, but my clothes were in there.
Q: When you went back into the bedroom, did you notice if the man was still holding his gun? You recall the prosecution made quite a point of the gun not being there when the police arrived.
A: I didn’t even look. Maybe the woman — Grace — took it.
Q: The woman, then, was also gone?
A: Long gone, but I got nothing against her getting out of there; it was smart. I guess while I was throwing up she just pulled on her dress and beat it.
Q: What did you do then?
A: I started to get out of there in a hurry. I didn’t even finish dressing. I grabbed my shoes and jacket and tie and started out, but I guess I took so long getting sick or pulling on my shirt and pants or something that when I was coming into the lobby — I ran down the stairs instead of taking the elevator — the cops were coming in the front door. I guess maybe one of the neighbors called in on account of the shot. It was a hot night and the windows were open. I guess that’s how they heard.
Paretta paused, looking up. Ross nodded.
“That’s enough, thank you.” He turned. “I’m finished with the witness.”
“But I’m not.” Varick had come to his feet. He approached the witness stand. “Mr. Paretta, in that trial, the transcript of which you have in your hand and from which you have been reading, after the jury heard all the evidence, what verdict did they bring in?”
“Objection,” Ross said smoothly. “If the prosecution remembers the motions and proceedings before trial, the judgment in that trial was set aside. Legally, it does not exist.”
“Wait a second,” Gorman began, starting to rise. One glare from Judge Waxler and he subsided.
“Objection sustained.”
Varick turned back to the witness.
“Mr. Paretta, tell me: In all the testimony of that transcript, either of the defense or of the prosecution, is the word ‘swindle’ mentioned once?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you recall any synonym for the word ‘swindle,’ or any phrase that could be considered to have the same meaning as the word ‘swindle’ appearing anywhere in the testimony?”
“No, sir.”
“Thank you. That’s all. You’re excused.” Mr. Paretta stepped down as Varick turned. “My next witness is Dr. Edward Hamilton of the Medical Examiner’s office.”
He walked back to the prosecution table and studied a sheet of paper while the doctor mounted the stand and was sworn in. Varick moved to the witness stand, paused, and then swung to face Ross.
“The prosecution is prepared to qualify my witness as an expert if the defense insists, but to save time would my learned adversary concede the qualifications of Dr. Hamilton?”
Ross said calmly, “The defense will concede that Dr. Hamilton is an extremely qualified forensic pathologist.”
“Thank you,” Varick said with a touch of sarcasm and turned to face the witness as a ripple of smiles in the courtroom disappeared beneath Judge Waxler’s look. “Dr. Hamilton, on the thirtieth day of September in this year, did you examine the body of a deceased male, Raymond Neeley?”
“I did.”
“Where did this examination take place?”
“At the New York Medical Examiner’s office, at the Bellevue Hospital morgue.”
“Before you go into the details of that examination, Doctor, could you tell us how the body came to be delivered to the Bellevue Hospital morgue? And how identification was made?”
“The deceased had been hospitalized at Wickersham Hospital with what he claimed were recurring and increasingly severe headaches, and died there. The deceased had been a patient of the hospital eight years before, suffering from gunshot wounds, and the autopsy was requested by his physician to determine if those gunshot wounds could have been responsible for his death. As for his identity, his physician vouched for it, and his fingerprints are on record with the police department, who verified them for identification.”
“Thank you,” Varick said. “Now, as to your examination, would you tell us of your procedure and results?”
Dr. Hamilton’s attitude, like that of Mr. Paretta, was completely relaxed, also the result of having testified in court many times. He brought forth his glasses, carefully polished them and put them on, and then reached into his pocket for the autopsy report. He glanced at it and then looked up.
“I did a customary post-mortem examination which is called an autopsy. The body was that of a well-developed Caucasian male weighing one hundred eighty-five pounds and measuring five feet nine inches in height. The hair on the head was black. The body below the neck had no scars or tattoos. There was a severe scarring on the lower right cheek, the result, according to the Wickersham Hospital records, of a gunshot wound suffered eight years before. The scarring was entirely consistent with these records.
“The body was opened through a Y-shaped incision. The lower—”
Varick interrupted smoothly.
“Doctor, I have seen a copy of the autopsy report, and a copy has also been furnished to the defense. To save the jury from details which have nothing to do with the case, could I put this question to you: In examining the other organs, other than the brain, did you find any evidence of disease or trauma that could possibly have caused death?”