on what you’re trying to say.”
“All right,” Steve said. “Look. To start off with, Dirkson’s not dumb.”
“All right. Dirkson’s not dumb. So? You told me that yesterday. He’s gonna let Fitzpatrick bring out all the shit and then let the bar association go after you. I know that.”
“Right. But besides that. Look what he’s doing.”
“What?”
“All right. Take the witness. Margaret Millburn. He gives her as perfunctory a direct examination as you ever heard. A child of three can see she’s not telling the whole story. Naturally, Fitzpatrick rips into her on cross- examination and brings out the fact that the person she heard arguing with the victim was a man.”
“So?”
“I was watching Dirkson when it happened. He didn’t bat an eye.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Everything.”
Steve Winslow got up and started pacing.
“I don’t understand, Steve,” Taylor said. “We know Dirkson’s out to get you. This is exactly what he’s been doing all along-letting Fitzpatrick bring out the damaging stuff. So what’s the big deal?”
Steve shook his head. “Dirkson wants to get me for obstructing justice and tampering with evidence. He isn’t out to get me for murder. Look, Mark. Dirkson’s trying Marilyn Harding on a murder rap. Much as he might love to take a few pot shots at me, his prime concern is convicting her. Margaret Millburn’s testimony that the person she heard having an altercation with the decedent was a man has to be a serious blow to Dirkson’s case. But it doesn’t seem to faze him. And the question is why?”
“And the answer is, I don’t know.”
“Right. And that’s what bothers me. Sooner or later, Dirkson’s gonna rest his case. As soon as he does, Fitzpatrick’s gonna slap a subpoena on me. He’ll put me on the stand, get me declared a hostile witness, and rip into me. I’ll have to take the position that I can’t answer certain questions without betraying the confidence of a client. You know how that’s gonna look to the jury. Ten to one, Fitzpatrick will rest his case right there. Then he’ll argue that the prosecution’s case is all circumstantial, and that I am just as likely to have killed the victim as his client. Add to that the fact that Margaret Millburn claims she heard Bradshaw arguing with a man, and there’s no way the jury’s going to being back a verdict of guilty.”
Taylor frowned. “That’s right. So what the hell is Dirkson up to?”
Steve shook his head. “That’s the question.”
31
When Court reconvened the next morning, District Attorney Harry Dirkson stood up and said, “Call Douglas Kemper.”
That announcement drew no reaction from the spectators in the courtroom. Most of them didn’t know who Douglas Kemper was. But it certainly produced a reaction in Marilyn Harding. She came half out of her chair, twisted around, and looked toward the back of the room. Fitzpatrick was immediately on his feet, interposing his bulk between his client and the spectators in the courtroom, but not before Steve Winslow caught the look on her face.
Steve Winslow turned to Tracy Garvin. “This is it. Dirkson’s about to drop a bombshell.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Probably an admission or confession of some sort. She must have told Kemper something damaging. Dirkson’s gonna bring it out.”
“Can he do that?”
“I don’t know. Kemper can lie, evade, even take the Fifth Amendment. He may simply take the position he knows nothing at all. Then Dirkson will have to try to impeach him.”
“Can he impeach his own witness?”
“On a material point, yes. Not on character. Even then he has to show surprise.”
“What do you mean?”
“That he expected one answer and the witness gave him another. It rarely happens. Here we go.”
Kemper took his place on the witness stand.
“Mr. Kemper,” Dirkson said. “Are you related to the defendant in this action?”
“That’s right. I’m married to her stepsister.”
“You’ve known the defendant for some time?”
“Yes. Six or seven years.”
“And you talk to her from time to time?”
“Naturally.”
“Have you and the defendant ever had occasion to discuss the decedent, Donald Blake?”
Fitzpatrick was quick, but not that quick. There was a plainly audible gasp from Marilyn Harding before he roared, “Objection, Your Honor!”
“Overruled,” Judge Graves said. “The prosecution is asking for an admission against interest. Witness will answer the question.”
“I’ll repeat the question, Mr. Kemper,” Dirkson said. “Have you and the defendant ever had occasion to discuss the deceased, Donald Blake?”
Kemper shifted position on the witness stand. “No, we have not,” he said.
“You have not?”
“No.”
“You claim that in all the conversations you have had with the defendant, she never once mentioned to you the man Donald Blake, otherwise known as David C. Bradshaw?”
“Objected to as argumentative and already asked and answered.”
“Sustained.”
“Well now,” Dirkson said. “Let me ask you this: have
“No, sir, I have not.”
“Never met the man?”
“No, I did not.”
“Never been to his apartment?”
“That’s right.”
“Then if a witness should state that they had seen you in his apartment, that witness would be mistaken, is that right?”
“Objection. Argumentative.”
“Sustained.”
“Mr. Kemper, have you ever paid any money to Donald Blake?”
“No, sir, I have not.”
“Mr. Kemper, an examination of your bank account reveals that on the morning of the seventh of October, you withdrew the sum of twelve thousand dollars in small bills. Did you by any chance give any of that money to Donald Blake?”
The courtroom was abuzz with excitement. The witness blinked twice. “No, sir, I did not.”
“No? But it is a fact that you withdrew twelve thousand dollars on the morning of the seventh?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Fitzpatrick said. “What this witness may or may not have done is not binding on my client.”
“Sustained.”
“Mr. Kemper, is it not true that the decedent was blackmailing you as well as the defendant?”
“No, it is not.”
“It is not? Mr. Kemper, you claim that you and the defendant never discussed the decedent, Donald
