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“I know that, Mark.”

“I know you do, but so what? I know you. You’ll do anything for your client and the hell with anybody else. If you manage to prove David Castleton was killed at midnight, it’s gonna be ‘Sorry, Mark, I know it’s gonna cost you your license, but I gotta put your detectives on the stand.’”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me why not.”

“For one thing, there’s no way we can prove he was killed at midnight. We can raise the inference, I can create reasonable doubt, and it could be the time he ate his last meal will bear me out. But that’s all it is, reasonable doubt. You get what I saying? It doesn’t matter if I prove he could have been killed at midnight. The only thing that would make any difference would be if I could prove he couldn’t have been killed at eleven-thirty. And there’s no way I can do that.”

“So the time element thing is basically bullshit?”

“Basically, yes.”

“That’s a relief. That’s what I figured, but when I heard Fitzpatrick pushin’ so hard for midnight I wasn’t sure. Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Did you tell Fitzpatrick to push for midnight?”

Steve shook his head. “No. I just told him to take the guy on the time element. I didn’t tell him how to do it. That cross-examination was all Fitzpatrick. I must say, for a guy who isn’t in court that much, he’s pretty damn good.”

Taylor shook his head. “That’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Does Fitzpatrick know Kelly Wilder’s got a cold alibi for eleven-thirty on? By two witnesses who can place her at the scene of the crime at the time of the murder, but who haven’t surfaced yet?”

Steve frowned. “You think he’d be on the case if he did?”

“Not a prayer.”

“There’s your answer.”

“I’d hate to be in your shoes when he finds out.”

Steve took a breath. “Mark, it’s a mess, I know it’s a mess. I don’t ever want to go through this again either. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Could I change the subject?” Tracy said.

“Love you for it,” Steve said. “Jump right in.”

“The sidebar. And your objection. What was that all about?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said. “That made absolutely no sense. The jury was looking around like ‘what’s going on?’ and the judge says, ‘Rephrase the question,’ and Dirkson does, and I can’t tell if your objection’s been sustained or overruled or what the hell it was to begin with.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah, that was kind of weird. I objected to him referring to the decedent as David Castleton on the grounds they hadn’t proved identity yet.”

Taylor frowned. “What?”

“Why did you do that?” Tracy asked.

“To force them to identify the body.”

“But there’s no question about it,” Taylor said.

“Exactly,” Steve said. “But I still want them to go through the motions.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m groping in the dark and I need all the shots I can get. So I’m going to be very technical about procedure. Proper procedure is, Dirkson must show the corpus delicti before he can introduce any evidence connecting Kelly Wilder to the crime. Part of the corpus delicti is proving the identity of the corpse.”

“So what?” Taylor asked. “It is David Castleton, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is. But I’m not going to take the word of a cleaning lady for it. I want to make Dirkson put someone on the stand to identify the body.”

“Why?”

“So I get a shot at him. The way I see it, it will be either Milton or Stanley Castleton. They’re both bound to be witnesses later on. Whichever it is, I’ll get two cracks at him on the cross-examination. It can only help.”

“Yeah,” Tracy said. “But if Dirkson only calls them to identify the body, isn’t that all you can cross-examine them on?”

“Yeah, but it’s always relevant to show bias. And I can bring out a lot of stuff to show these guys have every reason to be biased against Kelly Wilder on account of her brother. I can drag in the embezzlement bit.”

“I thought Dirkson was gonna drag it in anyway.” Taylor said.

“Yeah, but you want to bet I can make it sound different than he can?”

“No takers.”

“I still say what’s the point?” Tracy said.

Steve sighed and ran his hand over his head. “The point is, sooner or later Dirkson’s gonna rest his case. When he does, we got a big problem. For one thing, we already shot our opening argument. That was a judgment call, and I still think it was worth it, but it’s done. Which means we open our case cold. I can’t stand up and tell the jury what we expect to prove. I gotta call witnesses and build our case from them. Well, that being the case, I wanna lay as big a foundation as I can before Dirkson rests and we take over. In other words, I want the jury to hear as much corroboration as possible before they hear Kelly Wilder’s story.”

“You gonna put her on the stand?” Tracy said.

Steve grimaced. “That’s the problem. At this point, frankly, I just don’t know.”

31

When court reconvened Dirkson stood up and said, “Call Stanley Castleton.”

Steve Winslow watched with some interest as Stanley Castleton made his way to the stand. He was tall and thin, but his slumped shoulders and lowered head greatly diminished his height. Steve wondered if it was due to the loss of his son or if it was his standard posture.

As Stanley Castleton came forward and took the stand his movements were tentative and hesitant. Steve figured Mark Taylor’s description had been right on the money-weak and ineffectual.

When Stanley Castleton had been sworn in, Dirkson rose and crossed to him.

Naturally Dirkson made a big show of being solicitous and sympathetic. “Mr. Castleton,” Dirkson said, “I know how hard this is for you and I’ll try to be as brief as possible. Please tell me, what is your relationship to David Castleton?”

Stanley Castleton blinked twice. His lip trembled, and when he spoke, his voice quivered. “He is my son.”

Dirkson nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Castleton. Now, I ask you, on June twenty-ninth were you asked to go to the morgue to identify a body?”

“Yes, I was.”

“And did you identify it?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Whose body was it?”

This time his whole face seemed to quiver. Tears brimmed in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, choked back a sob. He exhaled, took a breath, then croaked, “It was my son. David.”

Stanley Castleton dissolved into sobs.

Dirkson paused a moment before saying softly, “Thank you. That’s all.”

Judge Wallingsford said, “Does the defense wish to cross-examine?”

Fitzpatrick looked a question at Steve.

Steve looked over at Stanley Castleton weeping on the witness stand. There was no way he could cross-examine him without alienating the jury. Hell, some things worked and some didn’t. Steve took a breath. He shook his head. “No questions, Your Honor.”

“The witness is excused,” Judge Wallingsford said.

Stanley Castleton might not have heard him. He just sat there, sobbing. Dirkson had to come forward, put his hand on his shoulder, lead him from the witness stand.

Steve Winslow gritted his teeth. It was a hell of a moment, guaranteed to prejudice the jury against the defendant. But there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

When Stanley Castleton had finally been escorted from the courtroom, Dirkson recalled Detective Oswald from the Crime Scene Unit, who testified to finding a gun next to the decedent. The gun was produced, identified and marked for identification as People’s Exhibit 3.

He also testified to finding a folded piece of paper in the decedent’s pants pocket. The paper was produced, identified and introduced into evidence. Oswald then read what was written on it into the record. The paper proved to be a note, written in ink, of an address and apartment number. Oswald was able to testify that he had personally gone to that address and could verify that it had turned out to be the apartment of the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder.