“What did you say then?”
“I told him I’d been on the phone with his high school, and asked him why he cut his afternoon classes.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t answer. He just made a rude remark.”
“Was that the extent of the conversation?”
“No, it wasn’t. I asked him if he’d seen Jack Walsh.”
“What did he say to that?”
“He laughed and said, Where the hell would I see him?’”
“What happened then?”
“I kept pressing him, asking him questions. Finally he turned on me and he grinned and he said, ‘You’re really stupid, Carl. You think you’re ever gonna see any of Uncle Jack’s money? You better think again.’”
“I want to be clear on this. This was five-thirty on the afternoon of the day of the murder. Jeremy Dawson laughed at you and made a remark about Jack Walsh’s money and your chances of ever getting it?”
“That’s right.”
“What happened then?”
“I asked him what the hell he meant by that and he just laughed and went upstairs.”
“And then what?”
“He just went upstairs, took a shower and changed his clothes.”
“What did you do?”
“I hung around, waited for him to come down.”
“Why?”
“I was upset. It bothered me, what he’d said. Particularly with what was going on, or with what I thought was going on. I wanted to talk with him some more.”
“And did you?”
“I tried, but he wouldn’t talk. He came downstairs a half hour later, all showered and changed. I asked him what he meant by what he said, and what was going on. But he wouldn’t answer. He just made some rude remarks and went out the door.”
“Did you ask him where he was going?”
“Yes, I did, but he wouldn’t say. He just made comments I would not repeat in court.”
“Did he say anything else that you can repeat?”
“Yeah. Last thing he said before he went out the door.”
“And what was that?”
“He turned around, he pointed his finger in my face, and he said, ‘You be nice to me, Carl, ’cause I’m gonna be rich.’”
Dirkson paused and let that sink in. “And that was approximately at what time?”
“Between six and six-thirty.”
“On the evening of February 26th?”
“That’s right.”
“That was the last time you saw Jeremy Dawson that night?”
“That’s right.”
“Thank you, Mr. Jenson. That’s all.”
Judge Grimes said, “Mr. Winslow?”
Steve rose, crossed in to the witness.
Carl Jenson eyed him warily. After Winslow’s previous cross-examination of him, Jenson was bracing himself for the anticipated attack.
It didn’t come. Steve’s manner was not adversarial. It was polite and conversational, even friendly.
Steve smiled, held up his hand and said, “Now, Mr. Jenson. Mr. Dirkson has been scrupulously careful about the phone call you had from the school, but I think there’s no need to be over technical here. The fact is, the school called and told you Jeremy Dawson had cut his afternoon classes, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me, did that surprise you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, was this a novel occurrence, something new and unexpected, something you’d never dealt with before?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Jeremy Dawson had cut his classes before?”
“Yes, he had.”
“On more than one occasion?”
“That’s right.”
“And had the school called before with regard to Jeremy cutting his classes?”
“Yes, it had.”
“And on those occasions, when Jeremy Dawson got home, did you ask him where he’d been?”
Jenson frowned, hesitated a moment. “I can’t remember.”
Dirkson came to his rescue. “I think it’s incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial, Your Honor.”
“On the contrary, Your Honor,” Steve said. “This witness has testified as to remarks Jeremy Dawson made to him on this occasion regarding Jack Walsh and his money. It’s entirely relevant whether those remarks were special to this occasion, or whether this was something Jeremy Dawson taunted Carl Jenson with all the time.”
Judge Grimes frowned. “I will allow this line of questioning.”
“You say on those occasions you can’t remember if you asked him where he’d been. Can you remember if on those occasions you asked him anything about Jack Walsh?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“You’re not sure if you asked him where he’d been, but you are sure you didn’t ask him about Jack Walsh?”
“That’s right.”
“How can you be sure about that?”
“On those other occasions there was no reason to ask him about Jack Walsh.”
“Oh, so you’re saying on this occasion there was?”
“Yes, there was.”
“And what was that?”
Jenson hesitated, took a breath. “Well, recently the family had been very concerned about Jack. He’d been acting irrationally. He’d been confined in Bellevue. He’d been released just the day before. So naturally it was on my mind.”
“Yes, but what made you think Jeremy Dawson might have seen him?”
“Well, there was the phone call from the school.”
“Ah, yes,” Steve said. “The phone call from the school. I was wondering about that. Is it possible that when the school called to tell you Jeremy Dawson had cut his classes, they also mentioned that he had been seen with a rather disreputable looking older gentleman?”
“Yes, they did.”
“You didn’t mention this on direct examination.”
“Objection,” Dirkson said.
Judge Grimes frowned. “Objection to what?”
“Objection to that statement. Counsel is trying to make it appear there was something sinister about the witness not mentioning that fact on direct examination. When in point of fact, the only reason he didn’t mention it is because it’s hearsay and inadmissible.”
Judge Grimes smiled. “Are you objecting on the grounds it’s hearsay and inadmissible?”
“Not at all,” Dirkson said. “I’m happy to have it in the record.”
“Then we have no problem. Proceed, Mr. Winslow.”
“At any rate, Mr. Jenson, that is why you questioned Jeremy Dawson about Jack Walsh at this particular time?”
“That’s right.”
“Now, referring to those previous occasions on which the school called you about Jeremy Dawson, did he ever make any remarks to you about Jack Walsh’s money?”
“No, he did not.”
“The subject never came up?”
“No, it did not.”
“But you do recall other occasions when Jeremy Dawson cut classes and you were called by the school?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Tell me something. Was Jeremy Dawson ever suspended from school?”
“Yes, he was. But that wasn’t for cutting classes. That was for selling crack.”
There was a murmur in the courtroom. Dirkson grinned.
Steve frowned. “For selling crack, you say?”
“That’s right.”
“Now look here, Mr. Jenson, you don’t know for a fact that Jeremy Dawson was selling crack, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“How do you know that?”
“The school caught him at it.”
“Wait a minute, Mr. Jenson. You didn’t catch him at it, did you?”
“No, the school did.”
“And you only know that because you were told that, right?”
“That’s right.”
“But that’s hearsay, Mr. Jenson. You can’t testify to that.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jenson said. “I’m not a lawyer. You asked me so I told you.”
That sally drew a laugh from spectators in the courtroom. Dirkson grinned broadly, and some of the jurors smiled.
Judge Grimes frowned. “Are you asking that answer be stricken from the record, Mr. Winslow?”
“No, I’m not, Your Honor. I’d like to cross-examine the witness on it.”
“It’s plainly hearsay, Mr. Winslow.”
“It goes to the bias of the witness, Your Honor. This witness has given material evidence on statements my client made on the day of the murder. I’m interested in any factors that might have colored his judgment.”