“I’ve heard some names. I would only be speculating.” It seemed Andrea was smart enough to pick up on cues from the judge.
“Would Antonio Catrona be one of those names?”
“I have heard the name.”
“You’ve heard the name because he was the subject of the investigation, right?”
She still hesitated.
“If there’s some doubt in your mind, we could call up some of the other police officers to confirm this.”
“I think that is correct,” she said.
“And you also had reason to believe that the investigation of Catrona could be dangerous, didn’t you?”
“All investigations are dangerous,” Andrea said. “Criminals are criminals. They don’t like to be caught.”
A valiant attempt to derail this line of questioning. But Ben wasn’t going to allow it. “We’re not talking about petty theft here, ma’am. We’re talking about organized crime.”
LaBelle rose. “Your honor, I must protest. Asked and answered. This badgering of a bereaved woman is unconscionable.”
“The question has been answered,” Judge Cable said.
“But not truthfully,” Ben replied.
Judge Cable pointed his gavel. “Counsel, I’m warning you—”
Ben switched back to the witness. “Mrs. McNaughton, isn’t it true that shortly before your husband was killed, you received a threatening phone call that you believed came from Antonio Catrona or someone working for him?”
The jurors’ chins rose, a sure sign that their interest level was increasing. Good.
“Joe did receive a phone call that … disturbed him. But I don’t know who called.”
That’s it, Ben thought. Keep being evasive. The more you play games, the easier it will be for me to poke holes in your story. “You may not have known with absolute certainty, but you believed—at the time—that it came from Catrona or his associates. You believed they were threatening retaliation against your husband.”
“I … don’t know if I would exactly …”
“You’re under oath, ma’am.”
She bristled slightly. “I’m well aware of that. But I still don’t think I’d say—”
“That’s what you told my associate, Ms. McCall.”
“I was just speculating—”
“If you’re having trouble remembering what you said, I can call Ms. McCall to the witness stand. She has a very good memory.”
“That’s not necessary.” Andrea straightened slightly, folding her hands in her lap. “It’s true, at the time, I thought the call must’ve come from the mob. But I don’t think that now. Now I realize that—”
“Thank you, ma’am. You’ve answered the question.”
Andrea wasn’t going to be stopped that easily. “Now I realize that the threats must’ve come from Keri Dalcanton.”
Technically, Ben should’ve moved to strike, but he decided to go with a frontal assault instead. “Do you know that for a fact, Mrs. McNaughton?”
“There’s not the slightest doubt in my mind.”
“You’re not answering my question. Do you know that for a fact?”
She frowned. “No.”
“You’re just assuming it was Keri, because you assume she’s guilty of this crime.”
“I think it’s obvious to any unbiased observer—”
“But you don’t have any proof that Keri made those calls, just as the D.A. doesn’t have any proof that she committed the murder, right?”
LaBelle was quickly on his feet. “Your honor, I object!”
“I’ll rephrase.” Ben tried again. “Do you have any proof that the phone call that frightened your husband was made by Keri Dalcanton?”
“No proof,” she said defiantly. “Just common sense.”
“Common sense. Common sense,” Ben repeated. He knew he’d get slammed by the judge, but he sensed this might be the time to make his point in an unmistakable way. “We’re talking about the brutal sadistic murder of a strong adult male, a man who was overcome, dragged a long distance, and chained to a fountain. What does common sense tell us is more likely to be the cause of this tragedy? A hundred-and-three pound teenager? Or a mob hitman?”
“Your honor!” LaBelle said, pounding the table. “Did I miss the call for closing argument?”
My, my, Ben thought, the D.A. made a jokie-poo. Surprises never cease. “Your honor, the witness was the one who brought up common sense.”
“And you twisted it around into an improper diatribe,” Judge Cable replied. “The objection is sustained. And if you can’t stick to questions, Mr. Kincaid, I’ll cut this cross off now.”
“Sorry, your honor. That won’t be necessary.” Duly chastened, Ben proceeded to the next part of his cross, knowing full well the judge would like it no better than he had the preceding. “Mrs. McNaughton … you don’t like Keri Dalcanton much, do you?”
She seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. “I’m … not sure what you mean.”
“It’s a pretty simple question, ma’am. I think everyone else gets it. In fact, I think everyone else already knows the answer. You don’t like Keri Dalcanton much, do you?”
“I suppose not.”
“In fact—you hate her. Right?”
“I wouldn’t put it like that …”
“I would. You despise her. And you would do anything to see her put away for life. Or worse.”
“That’s not true. I don’t know why you would say that.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Possibly because I watched you try to break her nose in the courtroom.”
“That was an—I didn’t mean—”
“And because I watched you knock her to the floor in my own office.”
“That was unfortunate, but—”
“And because almost every time you mention her, you resort to unkind, untrue, words like whore and tramp.”
“The woman killed my husband!” The words erupted out of her, like a sudden burst from a volcano. “She’s a killer!”
“Accused,” Ben added.
“Even before she killed him,” Andrea continued, “she stole him from me. Stole his affection. Stole his … love.”
“You hated her, didn’t you?” Ben said quietly but insistently. “You still hate her.”
“Yes, I hate her,” Andrea admitted, her voice dark and low. “Why shouldn’t I? Don’t I have that right?”
“Perhaps,” Ben said. “But what I’ve noticed is that, in addition to being full of hate, you also … have a very violent temper.”
Several heads rose, both in the gallery and the jury box.
Andrea seemed somewhat shaken. “I don’t know why you would—”
“C’mon, ma’am. Your testimony is replete with instances of violence. All of them instigated by you.”
“That isn’t so!”
“You attacked my client in the courtroom, in front of hundreds of witnesses.”
Red blotches began to spot her face. “My husband’s killer was being released scot-free!”
“You attacked her again in my office.”
“Do you remember what she said to me?”
“You told my associate, Ms. McCall, that you attacked your own husband, mere hours before he was killed.”
“I didn’t attack him. I just—I—”
Ben made a point of reading directly from his notebook, so the jury would know he wasn’t making this up. “When he came home you confronted him with your knowledge of his affair. In your own words, you totally lost it. You hit him repeatedly on his chest. You scratched his face with your fingernails. You even bit him.”
“But—But—!”
“On the right arm. In fact, the marks were still visible when the coroner performed his autopsy. I can show you the report, if you like.”
“I was angry!” Andrea shouted, so loud it split the courtroom. “He betrayed me! For a—a—child!”
“So you attacked him.”