“In other words, he started blackmailing her.”
“If you want to call it that. Yes.”
“Thank you.” And turning, he said to Hardy. “Your witness.”
In spite of Maya’s outburst both she and Hardy had known the gist of Jansey’s testimony before she’d gone onto the stand-they had heard a similar version of it during the preliminary hearing. Hardy had hoped that much of Jansey’s testimony would never in fact be heard by the jury because so much of it was hearsay.
Well, that would show him.
But against the urge to hope, he was always prepared. Taking some pages from his binder, he walked up to his place in front of Jansey, handing them to her. “Ms. Ticknor,” he began, “do you recognize these pages which I’ve just handed to you?”
She glanced down at them, turned them over. “Yes. They’re transcripts of the talks I had with the inspectors.”
“You’ve had a chance to read them and to compare them to the original tape-recorded statements that you gave police?”
“Yes.”
“And they are a full and complete record of those interviews?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Ms. Ticknor, you’ve just told Mr. Stier that you knew that Mr. Vogler was blackmailing the defendant, right?”
“Correct.”
“And you’re absolutely sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Now, Ms. Ticknor, I’d like you to turn to page two and read to the jury the highlighted section.” Jansey looked down, found the place, and read in a shaky voice. “If he was blackmailing her, he could have just asked for a raise, and she would have had to give it to him, right?”
“Thank you. For the jury’s benefit, Ms. Ticknor, the him and her you use refer to who?”
“Dylan and Maya.”
“Good. So you were asking the inspectors a question about if Dylan were blackmailing Maya, isn’t that so?”
“I guess so, but-”
Hardy cut her off. “So, Ms. Ticknor, if it is true that you knew at the time that Dylan was blackmailing Maya, why did you have to ask the inspector something that you already knew?”
“Well, I-”
“Let me ask you again. Did you know for a fact that Dylan was blackmailing Maya?”
“Well, I don’t see how he could have-”
“Ms. Ticknor. Excuse me. Yes or no? Did you know for a fact that Dylan was blackmailing Maya?”
“Well, yes, he told me.”
“But is it correct that you have no explanation for that passage in the transcript that you just read?”
“No. I guess I was just confused.”
“Thank you.” Hardy kept right on. “Now you have just testified that Dylan told you that he was not afraid of Maya because he could tell her husband about their affair and she needed him for the marijuana business. Isn’t that right?”
“Well, yes.”
“Thank you. Now I’d like you to read another short excerpt from the transcript of the same interview. Page four, please, the highlighted section.”
Again, the witness found the spot and began to read: “‘You’re right, though, about him not being afraid of her, or of losing the job.’
“ ‘But he never talked about why?’
“ ‘The most he ever said was that she owed him.’ ” She looked back up at Hardy.
“ ‘The most he ever said was that she owed him.’ Are those your words?”
“Yes.”
“And you are referring to Dylan and Maya again, right?”
“Right.”
“So you’re saying that the most Dylan ever said about not being afraid of Maya, or of losing his job, was that she owed him?”
Again, a querulous, uncertain nod. “I guess so.”
“This isn’t a guessing game, Ms. Ticknor. Again. Either that’s what you said or it wasn’t. Which is it?”
“Okay, that’s what I said.”
“The most Dylan said about not being afraid of Maya was that she owed him, is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.” Hardy turned to include the jury. “But you just testified that he said a lot more than that, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You just testified that he said he could blackmail her for two separate reasons. Would you agree that that’s different from that she owed him? Do you agree or not? Yes or no?”
“Well, that’s what I meant.”
“And how often did you have these conversations?”
“A lot of times.” She took her plea directly to the jury. “Just when we talked. It was just stuff he told me.”
“But when?” Hardy persisted. “If you didn’t know about any of this when you spoke to the inspectors, after Dylan was already dead, when could you have talked about it with him?”
Jansey threw an agonized glance over at Stier. “I don’t know. I’m not sure. But we did. I’m sure we did.”
The point made, Hardy left it. “One last short reading, if I may. The highlighted section in the middle of page five.”
By this time her voice had shrunk to a near-whisper, but she found her place. “ ‘Did he say what she owed him for?’
“ ‘It wasn’t like we really ever talked about it.’ ”
“It wasn’t like you really ever talked about it. That would be you and Dylan, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Just one more thing, Ms. Ticknor. Tell the jury what the police found in the attic of your home.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean about a quarter million dollars’ worth of marijuana. That’s what I mean.”
“Well, yes, the marijuana was up there.”
“And that’s the marijuana that you have just told us Dylan was selling in Maya’s business?”
“Yes.”
“So naturally, you’ve been arrested and charged with having a very large stash of marijuana growing for sale in your house, haven’t you?”
“Well, of course not.”
“But you’ve just told us you knew it was there?”
“Yes.”
“Growing in your house?”
“Yes.”
“Providing the money that supported, at least in part, you and your child, right?”
“Well, I never took any dope money.”
“But the fact remains, you’ve never been arrested for or charged with possession of any of that sizable stash of marijuana. Did you ever discuss that possibility with the police?”
“Well, yes, they told me I wouldn’t get in any trouble.”
“Let me refresh your recollection, Ms. Ticknor, as to the order in which these conversations took place. First, you told the police you knew very little about what had happened, and nothing about the marijuana upstairs. Correct?”
“Well, that was my first statement.”
“Then, more than a week later, after police told you that you could go to jail for a very long time if they connected you to Dylan’s marijuana business, you recalled information that incriminated Maya Townshend. And then the police told you you wouldn’t be charged for the marijuana upstairs. Isn’t that pretty much the way it went?”
“Well, okay, but it’s not the way you make it sound.”
“Thank you,” Hardy said. “No further questions.”
32
It wasn’t as though the media had lost interest in the trial, and today’s testimony sent the scribes and pundits scurrying from the courtroom to their telephones and keyboards to report on the newly revealed allegations of Maya’s infidelity, her subsequent rejection, and the added motivation this would certainly have given her to have murdered Dylan Vogler.
All this was, for example, on the evening news, which Hardy and his partners, over drinks, were watching on the huge TV they’d had installed in tasteful cabinetry on the back wall of the Solarium. Although as soon as the broadcast was done, Hardy hit the remote and turned the television off. “Never mind that none of it happened,” he said, “though I hate to quibble.”
Farrell, drinking espresso, was more or less back to being his old self, reconnected with his girlfriend, Sam, getting his hair cut with some regularity. Since it was after business hours, Phyllis had gone home, so Wes was comfortable enough coming downstairs with his dog and wearing his T-shirt, which today read “Eternity: Smoking or Nonsmoking.”