Fitzpatrick had a field day on cross-examination. He pounced on the fact that Sergeant Stams had interrogated and searched Steve Winslow at the scene of the crime, and he played it for all it was worth. The expression on Fitzpatrick’s face when he inquired, “You released him?” was a wonder to behold. Sergeant Stams actually squirmed.
Fitzpatrick also had the benefit of the grand jury testimony, so he knew just which questions to ask.
“Well, Sergeant Stams, you claim you found ten thousand dollars in a money belt on the body, and an additional ten thousand dollars in the upstairs hallway, is that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Referring to the money hidden in the upstairs hallway-that was ten thousand dollars in thousand dollar bills?”
“That’s correct.”
“Did you attempt to trace those bills to determine where they’d come from?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And do you know who withdrew those bills from the bank?”
“Only by hearsay, from the bank teller.”
“I understand. Then let me ask you this: did you carry those bills around with you when you went to talk to the various bank tellers?”
“No, I did not.”
“Then how did you know which bills you were inquiring about?”
“I made a list of the serial numbers.”
“Then let me ask you this: aside from talking to the bank tellers, did you have occasion to compare your list of serial numbers, the numbers taken from the thousand dollar bills found in the upstairs hallway, with any other list of serial numbers?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And did those serial numbers match?”
“They did.”
“Each and every serial number?”
“Yes.”
“In other words, the ten serial numbers on your list matched ten serial numbers on another list?”
“That’s right.”
“And where did you get this other list of serial numbers you compared it with?”
“It was handed to me by the District Attorney, Harry Dirkson.”
Fitzpatrick frowned. “And do you know, of your own knowledge, where Harry Dirkson got that list of serial numbers?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And where was that?”
“It was given to him by Steve Winslow.”
Fitzpatrick smiled. “In your presence?”
“That’s right.”
“And where did this take place?”
“In Mr. Dirkson’s office.”
“When?”
“In the early morning hours of the tenth. One or two in the morning is the closest I can recall.”
“And is this the same Steve Winslow whom you had interrogated at the scene of the crime?”
“That’s right.”
“And this was later that same evening? Though technically it was the next day, since it was after midnight, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“So,” Fitzpatrick said. “You interrogated Steve Winslow at the scene of the crime. And then you saw him several hours later in Harry Dirkson’s office, where he produced that list of bills, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me, did you happen to encounter Mr. Winslow at any time between those two times?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Could you tell us when and where?”
“Yes, sir. At around ten-thirty that evening I went to Glen Cove to interview Marilyn Harding. When I arrived, Steve Winslow was there talking to her.”
“Steve Winslow was talking to Marilyn Harding?”
“Yes.”
“The defendant in this case?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Steve Winslow is an attorney. Did he claim to be her attorney?”
“No, sir.”
“Did he make any explanation for what he was doing there talking to my client at ten-thirty in the evening?”
“No, he did not.”
“So, if I understand your testimony correctly, at around seven o’clock you interview and search Steve Winslow, who was found in the apartment with the deceased. At ten-thirty in the evening, you encounter Steve Winslow in Glen Cove, Long Island, talking to the defendant, Marilyn Harding. And at around one o’clock in the morning, in District Attorney Harry Dirkson’s office, this same Steve Winslow produces a list containing the serial numbers of the ten one thousand dollar bills that you found hidden in the upstairs hallway near the apartment of the deceased?”
“That’s right.”
Fitzpatrick chuckled and shook his head. “And yet it is Marilyn Harding who has been charged with this crime.”
Dirkson lunged to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor.’
Judge Graves banged the gavel. “Sustained. Mr. Fitzpatrick, I have already warned you about such side remarks.”
“Yes, Your Honor. No further questions.”
Dirkson next called the bank teller who identified Marilyn Harding as the person who had withdrawn the ten thousand dollars found in the money belt on the victim.
Fitzpatrick did not cross-examine.
The last witness of the day was Margaret Millburn, Donald Blake’s next door neighbor, who testified to hearing an altercation in Bradshaw’s apartment, and calling the police to report it. She was not sure of the exact time, but placed it around five-thirty.
As Fitzpatrick rose to cross-examine, Steve Winslow watched the witness with some interest. Margaret Millburn was not an unattractive woman. She was of medium height, full-figured, but not fat. Curly brown hair framed a face that was attractive but hard. Steve put her age about thirty-five.
And she was nervous.
Steve Winslow hadn’t had a lot of courtroom experience, but he had good instincts, and he could tell. There was something in the witness’s manner that was not right. Maybe it was the way she shifted her eyes, maybe it was the way she gripped the witness stand, maybe it was merely the way she sat. Steve Winslow didn’t know. But whatever it was, it was something. That, coupled with the fact that Dirkson’s direct examination had been very brief, told Steve Winslow that there was something the witness was holding back.
And Steve realized, if he could see it, it was a cinch Fitzpatrick could see it too.
“Miss Millburn,” Fitzpatrick said, “you say you heard the sounds of an altercation coming from the victim’s apartment?”
“That’s right.”
“What kind of altercation?”
“What do you mean?”
“You tell me. What did you hear?”
“The sound of things being knocked over. Furniture being smashed.”
‘Did you hear voices?”
“Voices?”
“Yes. Did you hear voices? Was it also a verbal altercation? Did you hear the sounds of an argument?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Really? You didn’t mention that on direct examination.”
“I wasn’t asked.”
“No, you weren’t, Miss Millburn. Now why do you suppose that was?”
“Objection, Your Honor.”
“Sustained.”
“Did you know you weren’t going to be asked about voices on direct examination?”
“Objection.”
“Sustained as to form.”
“Miss Millburn, when you gave your testimony, was there any intention in your own mind not to mention the fact that you heard voices?”
“Objection, Your Honor.”
“Overruled. Witness will answer the question.”
“Yes, there was.”
“And why was that?”
“Because I couldn’t hear the voices clearly enough to identify them, and Mr. Dirkson told me-”
“Objection, Your Honor!”
“No, no,” Fitzpatrick said, grinning broadly. “Tell us. What did District Attorney Dirkson tell you?”
Judge Graves banged the gavel. “That will do,” he snapped. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, it is not your place to rule on objections, it is mine. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“In this case, the objection is overruled. The witness is explaining why she refrained from mentioning certain things in her testimony. It is entirely relevant. The witness will answer the question.”