around the fracture, it is clear that this is an old injury. Most likely twenty to thirty years old.”
“Thank you, Doctor. That’s all.”
“Mr. Winslow?” Judge Grimes said.
Steve Winslow stood up. “Ah yes, Doctor. With regard to this hairline fracture-this fracture that you missed in your initial autopsy-”
The medical examiner set his jaw. “I beg your pardon,” he snapped. “I did
“Oh?” Steve said. “Did you find it?”
“No, I didn’t, but-”
“Then you missed it, didn’t you?”
The medical examiner scowled. “I didn’t miss it. It wasn’t what I was looking for.”
“Oh? And what were you looking for?”
“I was looking for the cause of death. That is the purpose of an autopsy.”
“I see,” Steve said. “You didn’t miss it because you weren’t looking for it. Then tell me, how is it that you happened to find it this time?”
“Because I was specifically looking for it.”
“And why was that?”
“You know why. The prosecution asked me to examine the body and see if I could find anything that would determine the identity.”
“I see. And when the prosecution asks you to look for something, you look for it. Is that right, Doctor?”
Dr. Abraham took a breath. “As a medical examiner, that is my job.”
“I see. And when the prosecution asks you to find something, you find it. Is that right, Doctor?”
“Objection,” Dirkson said.
“Sustained.”
Steve smiled. “Thank you. No further questions.”
Steve Winslow sat down, wondering what was next. The prosecution obviously had no medical records, not with Dirkson having the doctor testify how these hairline fractures could heal without medical attention. And in his opinion, none had been given in this case. So how was Dirkson going to tie it up?
When the medical examiner had been excused, Dirkson said, “Call Carl Jenson.”
Jeremy Dawson grabbed Steve’s arm. “Why are they callin’ Carl?”
“I don’t know. Wait and see.”
“Yeah, well he’s a lyin’ sack of shit. Don’t trust him.”
“Don’t worry.”
Steve watched Carl Jenson take the stand. In Steve’s opinion, Carl did not make a good impression. He was wearing his best suit and tie, and he was clean shaved and his hair was well groomed. But there was always something about him that was not quite right.
And it showed.
After Jenson had been sworn in, Dirkson said, “Your name is Carl Jenson?”
“That’s right.”
“What is your relationship to the decedent?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Steve said. “Assuming facts not in evidence.”
Dirkson frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“The word ‘decedent,’” Steve said.
“Sustained,” Judge Grimes said.
“I’ll rephrase the question, Your Honor. What is your relationship to Jack Walsh?”
“He is my great-uncle.”
“How long have you known him?”
“All my life.”
“How well did you know him?”
“Very well. I lived in his house most of my life.”
“Very good,” Dirkson said. “Then let me ask you this. Do you have any personal knowledge of any injuries Jack Walsh sustained in his lifetime?”
“Objection to ‘in his lifetime,’” Steve said.
“Sustained. That phrase may go out.”
Nettled, Dirkson said, “Same question, omit the phrase. Do you have any personal knowledge of any injuries Jack Walsh ever sustained?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Could you tell us about that, please?”
“Yes, I could. It was a long time ago. I must have been nine or ten years old. I was living in Jack’s house at the time.”
“And where was that?”
“In Great Neck.”
“Thank you. Go on.”
“I was out in the backyard, and Uncle Jack was playing with me.”
“What were you playing?”
“Baseball. Whiffleball, actually. Jack was pitching and I was hitting the ball.”
“What happened?”
“I hit a popup. Uncle Jack ran to get it and tripped and fell.”
“Was he hurt?”
“Yeah. He hit his leg on a rock.”
“Which leg?”
“His right leg.”
“What part of his leg hit the rock?”
“The bottom of his leg. Right there.”
“Let the court reporter note that the witness is indicating a spot in the back of his right leg midway between the knee and the ankle.” Dirkson turned back to the witness. “So what happened then?”
“Nothing. Except we stopped playing ball.”
“Did Jack Walsh go to the hospital?”
“No.”
“Or see a doctor?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am. I remember, I said, ‘Uncle Jack, you gonna go to the doctor?’ and he said, no, it was nothing. But I know he couldn’t walk on it. He sat with his leg up for a couple of days. After that he limped for a while.”
“And after that?”
Jenson shrugged. “It got better. You know, just like he’d sprained his ankle.”
“I see. But it wasn’t his ankle, was it?”
“No. It was his leg. Right there, like I said.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “Thank you. No further questions.”
Judge Grimes said, “Mr. Winslow?”
Steve rose. “I have a few questions, Your Honor.” He crossed in to the witness. “Mr. Jenson, you testified that this incident occurred when you were nine or ten?”
“That’s right.”
“That would be about twenty-five years ago?”
“Yes, it would.”
“You have an excellent memory.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Mr. Jenson, are you familiar with the provisions of Jack Walsh’s will?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”
