“Did you ask?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what were you told?”
“I was told to mind my own business.”
“Which you did?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You did. You minded your own business. You accepted the employment?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Is it your policy to accept employment from people who refuse to identify themselves?”
“It’s my policy to accept employment, period. If it’s legal, I’ll do it.”
“Very virtuous of you, Mr. Miltner. And what can you tell us about this mysterious person, this person who contacted you on the phone?”
Miltner shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Nothing? And yet you spoke to them for several minutes.”
“About instructions, yes. I learned only what the person wanted done and the fact that they didn’t want to be identified.”
“Surely you must have learned more than that. For instance, I notice you keep using the word
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? How is that possible?”
“The caller disguised his voice. Or her voice. It was muffled and distorted. It could have been a man affecting a high voice, or a woman affecting a low one. There was no way to tell.”
“And you made no attempt to find out to whom this voice belonged?”
“No, I did not.”
“You made no attempt to trace the call?”
“No, I did not.”
“And the money that was sent to you. The ten one hundred bills. Did you make any attempt to trace them?”
“No, I did not.”
“What did you do with them?”
“Put them in the bank.”
“And the person who called you. How were you supposed to contact them?”
“I wasn’t. They were to contact me.”
“How?”
“By phone.”
“And did that happen?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“On Wednesday morning the person called in for a report.”
“Did you speak to them at that time?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And did you give them a report?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You reported on Tuesday’s surveillance?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Accurately?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And did the person call back again?”
“No, sir.”
“They didn’t call Thursday, to ask about Wednesday’s surveillance?”
“No, sir.”
Fitzpatrick frowned and thought a moment. “On Wednesday night you contacted the police?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And told them everything you knew about the Marilyn Harding surveillance?”
“That’s right.”
“Then let me ask you this: if the person who called you had called back on Thursday, would
“It sure would. The police had a tap on the phone ready to record the call, and officers standing by ready to run the trace.” Miltner shrugged. “The call never came.”
Fitzpatrick thought that over. “That’s all,” he announced.
Dirkson didn’t even stand up. He waved his hand. “No questions, Your Honor.”
Miltner left the stand.
“Call your next witness,” Judge Graves said.
“Call Fred Grimes.”
As the witness took the stand and was sworn in, Fitzpatrick leaned down to Steve Winslow. “What can I do with him?” he said. “This guy’s gonna do us more harm than good.”
“Depends on how we play it,” Steve said. “What do you mean?”
“How would you feel about getting admonished for prejudicial misconduct?”
“I wouldn’t like it.”
“Then why don’t you let me take this one?”
Fitzpatrick sat down. Steve Winslow stood up and approached the witness.
“Your name is Fred Grimes?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And you are employed by the Miltner Detective Agency?”
“That’s right.”
“Directing your attention to Tuesday, the eighth of this month, were you employed to shadow the defendant, Marilyn Harding?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Were you alone at the time?”
“No, I was not.”
“Who was with you?”
“My partner, Saul Burroughs.”
“Where did you pick up the defendant?”
“We staked out her house in Glen Cove.”
“At 8:00 a.m.?”
“That’s right.”
“When did you first spot the defendant?”
“She drove out the front gate about 1:15 p.m.”
“You followed her?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Where to?”
“We followed her into Manhattan, to 249 East 3rd Street.”
“And what happened then?”
“She went into the building at that address.”
“Did you follow her in?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“So what did you do?”
“When she parked near the building, my partner stayed with the car and I got out and followed her on foot.
