“You recognize the defendant, Amy Dearborn, as one of the women you saw in the lineup?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And was the defendant, Amy Dearborn, the young woman who hailed your cab that night at approximately eight P.M., the young woman you took to Seventh Avenue and 48th Street?”
“No, she was not.”
Dirkson frowned. “She was not?”
“No, sir.”
“Then how is it that you’ve identified her? How did you pick her out of a lineup?”
“I saw her.”
“Where?”
“Standing on the sidewalk.”
“When?”
“When I drove up.”
“When you drove up where?”
“Like I said. On 48th Street. When I drove up on 48th Street she was standing there waiting to meet the cab.”
“Then she was not the woman in the cab?”
“No. I just said she wasn’t.”
“And the woman in the cab-is she present here in court?”
“Sure. I saw her on the way in.”
“Do you know who that woman is?”
“Sure. I never met her, but I identified her picture. Picked it out of a bunch of others.” Keddie pointed to the back of the courtroom. “She’s sitting right there. Her name’s Tracy Garvin. She’s the secretary for Steve Winslow.” Keddie jerked his thumb. “You know. The defendant’s lawyer.”
43
“What a fucking mess.”
“No shit,” Taylor said. The phone rang and he scooped it up. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Don’t bother ringing. Just tell them he isn’t here.” He hung up the phone. “Reporters. Media’s going nuts. They keep calling me asking for you.”
“They’re not calling you,” Tracy said. “Call forwarding’s on.”
“Well, maybe you should take it off,” Taylor said. “It’s not too bright to be hiding out and routing your calls to where you are.”
“Let the switchboard filter the calls, Mark,” Steve said. “I can’t afford to miss a call right now. I really need a break.”
“Yeah, I know. What a kick in the head.”
“I should have seen it coming,” Steve said. “And I didn’t. What a schmuck. They subpoenaed the cab driver, I figured it was the one who took Amy downtown. It never occurred to me it would be Tracy’s cab.”
“Why not?” Tracy said.
Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Dirkson foxed me. Suckered me in. Your cab driver shouldn’t be part of his main case. He’s a rebuttal witness. Assuming he got him at all. The way it plays is, Dirkson makes a case for the fact Amy Dearborn went down there at eight o’clock and popped Frank Fletcher. Then we put on our case and try to prove she didn’t. We bring out the fact she showed up at ten o’clock and try to build up an alibi by showing she couldn’t have left the restaurant in time to do it. Once we put in that testimony, Dirkson rebuts it with this cab driver showing she was standing there on 48th Street at the time she said she was home. As such, the cabbie’s testimony’s proper and relevant.”
“You’re saying it isn’t?”
“Absolutely. He didn’t give Amy Dearborn a ride anywhere, and he doesn’t place her at the scene of the crime. He puts her on West 48th Street. If I cross-examine him on it, he’ll put her right here in front of the office. Big fucking deal. It’s not incriminating at all and it’s got nothing to do with the crime. It’s relevant only as rebuttal.”
“Then why didn’t you object to it?”
“I didn’t see it coming. He kept leading the witness along, asking about the fare and the trip sheet and the whole bit, and the whole time I thought it was Amy’s ride. I was getting ready to challenge him on identity. Which is the only thing I can challenge him on, since I know she took the ride.
“Then, whoops, presto chango, dorked again, wrong cab driver. Suddenly my world’s turned upside down and I don’t know what the fuck to do. That’s why I took the adjournment. I’m not sure how to play this. In theory, I could object to the whole thing, try to get the cab driver’s testimony stricken as incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. But so what? The damage is done. It’ll be on the front page of the tabloids tomorrow, the jurors heard it, and you know how much a judicial admonition to strike it from their minds and give it no weight will have. Plus, the minute I try to tell the defendant’s story, it will become relevant. And Dirkson will just smear us with it again.”
“Can’t get much worse, can it?” Taylor said.
“Yeah, it can,” Steve said. “Dirkson could subpoena Tracy, try to get her to testify.”
“She can’t,” Taylor said. “She’s got professional privilege.”
“To conversations, yes. Anything Amy Dearborn told her is privileged. Anything Tracy did…” Steve waggled his hand. “It’s a fine line.”
“You mean she’d have to talk?”
“I’d go to jail for contempt first,” Tracy said.
“You wouldn’t have to,” Steve said. “Because I’d be the one advising you not to talk. Of course, I may go to jail for contempt. But that might be preferable to aiding and abetting and conspiring to conceal a crime.”
The phone rang. Taylor scooped it up, listened. He covered the receiver. “It’s for you.”
“I thought your switchboard was screening calls.”
“They are. It’s the boyfriend. Wanna take it?”
“Boyfriend?”
“Larry Cunningham.”
“Great,” Steve said. “I can’t wait to hear his bright idea.” Steve took the phone. “Yeah?”
“I just called to say I don’t like the job you’re doing.”
“Oh, no?”
“No. They call a witness puts Amy right at the scene of the crime, what do you do, you ask for an adjournment.”
Steve rolled his eyes, looked at Tracy and Mark. “Well, what would you like me to do?”
“Challenge the guy. Don’t let him get away with that. The guy says eight o’clock, bullshit. Maybe that’s the time the guy picked her up, but not the time he dropped her off. Now, I don’t know where your secretary lives or how long the ride took, but that’s a starting point. Tackle the guy on the ride and get him to admit it was later. Push him past eight-thirty, the guy’s already dead, according to the medical examiner.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Steve said with heavy irony.
“I know it’s just a start,” Cunningham said. “But then you get me on the stand saying she didn’t leave the restaurant till after eight. Well, that’s important, see. This guy’s testimony undercuts that, if it’s eight o’clock. So push him back. Otherwise, when you put me on the stand it’s going to be hard to make it stick.”
“No kidding.”
“I mean it. If you don’t do a good job with this witness, we are in deep trouble.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Steve said, and hung up the phone.
“What was that all about?” Taylor asked.
“Amy’s boyfriend doesn’t like the way I’m handling the case, thinks I’m going to spoil his star turn on the stand.”
“Nice guy,” Taylor said.
“He’s a prince. Problem is, I’m rapidly reaching a point where I might have to depend on his testimony.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m desperate. You may not have noticed, but things are not going well. Unless we can come up with something, I may have to put that schmuck on the stand.”
“What good will that do?” Tracy said.
Steve shook his head. “Probably none. He’s Amy’s boyfriend, and the jury will expect him to lie to save her. If I put him on the stand, his testimony’s virtually worthless. The only way it would mean anything would be if Dirkson called him.”
“Why’s that?” Taylor said.
“Then he’d be a prosecution witness, and Dirkson would be bound by his testimony. He’d have to try to impeach him.”
“You mean if he said he was eating dinner with Amy Dearborn, Dirkson would have to try to prove he wasn’t?”
“Right.”
“Could he do that?”
“Who cares?” Steve said. “It would be a breath of fresh air just to see Dirkson in an uncomfortable position. The way things stand, all the pressure’s on us. The problem is, Dirkson’s got no interest in Cunningham.”