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“Yes, I did.”

“What did you find?”

“Miss Wilder was sitting at the word processor. When she saw me, she leapt up.”

“What did you do?”

“I made for the machine.”

“What did she do?”

“When she saw what I was doing she lunged for the machine, pressed a button on the keyboard.”

“What happened?”

“Whatever had been on the screen disappeared and was replaced by the page she’d been typing.”

“Did you get a look at what had been on the screen before?”

“No, I did not.”

“What did you do then?”

“I confronted her, demanded to know what she’d been doing.”

“Did she answer?”

“No, she didn’t. She kept backing away from me, around the desk.”

“What did you do?”

“I followed her.”

“What happened then?”

“When the desk was between me and the door, she turned and ran.”

“Out the door?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?”

“I chased her.”

“What did she do?”

“Ran down the hall and out the front door of the apartment.”

“What did you do then?”

“I ran to the front door. By the time I got there, she was gone.”

“I see,” Dirkson said. “Tell me, Mr. Danby. What was the defendant wearing at that time?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“She was naked.”

“Naked? And why was that?”

“That was one of the requirements of the job. Mr. Castleton’s secretaries typed nude. That was why it was specified they would work alone in their own office with the door locked.”

“I see,” Dirkson said. “So for the two weeks the defendant had been working there, she had been working naked?”

“That is right.’

“She was naked when you confronted her and accused her of being an industrial spy?”

“That’s right.”

“She was naked when she ran out of her office and out the front door?”

“Yes, she was.”

“I see,” Dirkson said. “Tell me, Mr. Danby. From the time she ran out the front door of Milton Castleton’s apartment, did you ever see the defendant again?”

Danby shook his head. “Not until today.”

“Let me ask you this. Did you ever talk to her again?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And when was that?”

“The first time was on June twenty-seventh.”

“The day before David Castleton was killed?”

“That’s right.”

“And how did that happen?”

“She called the office.”

“Mr. Castleton’s office?”

“Yes.”

“Who answered the phone?”

“I did.”

“And it was the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did she identify herself?”

“Not as Kelly Wilder. She identified herself as Kelly Blaine.”

“Which was the name you’d known her by?”

“Yes.”

“What did she want?”

“She wanted to talk to Mr. Castleton.”

“Did she talk to Mr. Castleton?”

“No. I told her she couldn’t talk to him, she’d have to talk to me.”

“What did she do?”

“She said, ‘Too bad,’ and hung up.”

“What happened then?”

“She called back an hour later.”

“What did she want?”

“The same thing. To talk to Mr. Castleton.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That if she’d come to the apartment, Mr. Castleton would be willing to talk to her.”

“I assume you’d conferred with Mr. Castleton in the meantime?”

“Yes, I had.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She wouldn’t do it. She said she wanted to meet Mr. Castleton alone in a public place. I told her that was out of the question. Mr. Castleton was in poor health, he wasn’t going to meet her in a public place and certainly not alone.”

“What happened then?”

“She said ‘Too bad,” and hung up.

“Did she call back again?”

“Yes, she did.”

“What happened in that conversation?”

“She repeated her demands. I told her they were out of the question. Then I suggested a compromise.”

“What was that?”

“While Mr. Castleton couldn’t go and meet her, he would send his grandson, David, in his place.”

“What did she say to that?”

“We talked about it some, and the end result was she agreed to the arrangement.”

“She agreed to meet David Castleton?”

“That’s right.”

“And this was on June twenty-eighth, the day he was killed?”

“That’s right.”

“And that was the last time you talked to the defendant?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Then let me ask you this. Did you speak to David Castleton on June twenty-eighth?”

“Yes, I did.”

“At what point did you speak to him?”

“After the last phone call from the defendant, I conferred with Milton Castleton, then I called David Castleton on the phone.”

“Called him where?”

“At work. At his office. At Castleton Industries.”

“What did you tell him at that time?”

“I told him it had been arranged for him to meet the defendant that evening, and immediately after work he should come by his grandfather’s apartment to confer with me and Milton Castleton and then go meet the defendant.”

“Did he agree to this?”

“Of course.”

“Did he come to Milton Castleton’s apartment?”

“Yes, he did.”

“What time was that?”

“Around five-fifteen.”

“He met with Milton Castleton at that time?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Were you present at that meeting?”

“Yes, I was.”

Dirkson turned to Judge Wallingsford. “Your Honor, I maintain that the conference between David Castleton and his grandfather, Milton Castleton, on the evening of David Castleton’s death is part of the res gestae and therefore admissible in evidence.”

Judge Wallingsford frowned. “So far, there’s been no objection from the defense. Let’s proceed, and deal with this if and when there is one.”

“Very well,” Dirkson said. He turned back to the witness. “Now, Mr. Danby, what was the substance of that meeting between David Castleton, Milton Castleton and yourself?”

“It was in the nature of a briefing.”

“A briefing?”

“Yes. We told him what was going to happen and what we expected him to do.”

“Which was?”

“Primarily, to find out who she was and what she wanted.”

“And why was that?”

“Well, you have to understand. At this time, we had no idea who the defendant was. We knew her only as Kelly Blaine. And we knew that name was bogus.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because we’d tried to get in touch with her and failed. The name she gave us was obviously bogus. The address she gave us did not exist.”

“Why were you trying to get in touch with her?”

“To find out what her game was. At first it seemed obvious. On the afternoon of the incident, when she left work, her attorney, Steve Winslow, showed up, charging us with sexual harassment and unjust termination and demanding a settlement on the part of the defendant.”

“And how was that situation handled?”

“We paid him off. Milton Castleton wrote him a check for fifty thousand dollars.”

“Fifty thousand dollars?”

“Yes. At the time it seemed dirt cheap. We were glad to pay and be rid of her. Because this seemed to indicate she was not an industrial spy after all, just an unscrupulous woman pulling a shakedown.”

“If that’s true, why did you want to get in touch with her?”

“Because we weren’t entirely convinced. There was still that business about her playing with the computer. We’d talked to her attorney, but we wanted to talk to her personally to make sure the matter was absolutely settled.”

“And did you?”

“No. That was when I tried to contact her and learned that the name, address and telephone number she had given us were bogus.”