Reginald Steele looked up at Judge Crandell for guidance.
“Counsel is within his rights,” Crandell said. “The witness will stand up.”
Steele rose.
“Come down here,” Steve said. “Yes. That’s right. Right down here with me.”
The witness did as he was instructed.
“You are now holding the knife in the manner in which you say the fingerprints indicate the defendant held it?”
“That’s right.”
“Fine.” Steve turned his back to the witness. “Stab me in the back.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, then gasps of shock, and a murmur of voices ran through the courtroom. Dirkson lunged to his feet. “Objection!” he blurted.
Steve pitched his voice above the din. “Stab me in the back,” he repeated.
The courtroom was in an uproar. Dirkson was trying to shout over the noise.
Crandell banged the gavel. “Order! Order!” he roared.
The courtroom quieted. Crandell glared down from his bench. “Please be advised that this is a courtroom, not a sideshow. If we cannot have order, I will have the spectators removed. Is that clear?”
Crandell’s eyes swept the room. No one moved.
“Now,” Crandell said. “Mr. Prosecutor, if you have an objection, please state it.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “Counsel for the defense has asked this witness to stab him in the back. I maintain that this is not proper cross-examination. It is a stunt, a theatrical exercise, and is totally out of place in a courtroom. I assign it as misconduct.”
Judge Crandell frowned. “This is the second time this morning the charge of misconduct has been raised.”
“May I be heard, Your Honor?” Steve said.
“You may.”
“Your Honor, this witness is an expert technician in the employ of the police department. He has testified that in his expert opinion, the fingerprint evidence that he found on the knife indicates that the defendant killed Robert Greely. That testimony is an utter falsehood, founded only upon this witness’s bias in favor of the prosecution, and made only with the intention of prejudicing the jury against the defendant. I intend to make the witness retract that testimony, and I am going to cross-examine him on it until he does so, even if it takes all afternoon.
“The witness has stated that Sheila Benton held the knife in the manner in which he is now holding it, and stabbed the decedent. That is utter nonsense. The medical evidence indicates that the blow was struck by someone stabbing the knife down into the back of the victim. I have asked this witness to stab me in the back, holding the knife the way he says Sheila Benton held it. He can’t do it. He can’t do it, and he’s a good four inches taller than she is. He can’t do it because he’s holding the handle like a sword, with his thumb in the position on the handle closest to the blade, and the fingers behind it. Whereas, to have inflicted the fatal blow, it is clear the assailant must have held the knife the other way, with the thumb toward the end of the handle, and the fingers closer to the middle of the knife, so that the knife could be stabbed down.
“These are clear and incontrovertible facts, which would be admitted by any witness that was not prejudiced in favor of the prosecution, and I intend to make this witness admit them if it takes all day.”
“Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “Counsel has no right to argue the case at this time.”
“Exactly,” Crandell said irritably. “Mr. Dirkson, no further argument is needed at this time. Nor from you, Mr. Winslow. The Court is going to make a ruling. But first the Court is going to charge the jury.” Judge Crandell turned to the jury and addressed them. “I want the jurors to understand that the remarks of the defense attorney are not in evidence, and you should give them no weight. He was arguing why he should be allowed to question the witness on the point. His arguments on the point, the contentions that he has made, are his and his alone, and do not constitute evidence. The only thing you are allowed to consider as evidence in this case is the body of pertinent questions that are asked, and the answers they elicit.” Crandell turned back to the attorneys. “The Court is now going to rule. The Court is going to rule,” Crandell said, with a trace of an ironic smile, “that it is not incumbent upon this witness to stab the defense attorney in the back. In other words, the objection is sustained. However, Mr. Winslow is quite correct in his contention that he be allowed to cross-examine the witness on the statement that he made, and the Court is going to allow any reasonable amount of pertinent questions on that subject. Now, Mr. Winslow, aside from asking to be done bodily harm, you are free to question the witness.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Steve said. “Mr. Steele, if you would care to sit down.”
Steele returned to the witness stand.
Steve stalked him, as a cat might stalk a mouse.
“Now, Mr. Steele, you have testified that in your opinion Sheila Benton stabbed Robert Greely, holding the knife in the manner you indicated?”
“Objection,” said Dirkson. “Already asked and answered.”
“I think it was,” Crandell said, “but it would also seem to be merely preliminary. Could we attempt to dispense with overly technical objections?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Dirkson said with poor grace.
“Answer the question,” Steve said.
“Yes,” Steele said. “That’s what I said.”
“Sheila Benton stabbed Robert Greely with that knife?”
“Yes.”
“Holding it in her hand?”
“Yes.”
“In the manner you indicated?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how tall Sheila Benton is?”
“No, I do not.”
“Is she six feet tall?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t? You’re an expert technician. You’re trained to notice details. Do you mean to tell me you can’t tell if Sheila Benton is six feet tall?”
“Objection. Argumentative,” Dirkson said.
“Sustained.”
Steve turned to the defense table. “Sheila Benton. Stand up.”
Sheila stood.
“Now, Mr. Steele, I want you to look at the defendant and tell me if she is over or under six feet tall.”
“Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “I hate to keep objecting, in view of your admonition, but this is totally irrelevant and calls for a conclusion on the part of the witness.”
“It does not, Your Honor,” Steve said. “It goes to his qualifications as an expert, and it goes to show bias.”
Judge Crandell looked down at him. “Bias?”
“Yes, Your Honor. The witness is a veteran observer. Surely he can look at a girl and tell if she is six feet tall or not. However, he knows what I am getting at, so he doesn’t want to say that she’s less than six feet tall. His refusal to say so is an indication of his bias.”
Judge Crandell smiled. “The argument is adroitly framed, if somewhat farfetched. However, the question could be construed as a test of his qualifications. The objection is overruled. The witness will answer the question.”
“Is the defendant over or under six feet tall?” Winslow asked.
“I’m not sure,” Steele said.
“Thank you for a fair and impartial answer,” Steve said, sarcastically. “Now, Mr. Steele, I’m not going to bother having the defendant come up here and stand next to you, I think I’ll just let the jury judge your statement on its own.”
“Objection, Your Honor.”
“Sustained. Mr. Winslow, such remarks are uncalled for.”
