murder.”
Dirkson spread his arms. “What happened next is up to you to infer. This is a case of circumstantial evidence. Most murder cases are. What that means is that there is no eyewitness to the crime. No one saw Kelly Clay Wilder actually shoot David Castleton. This is not unusual. Murderers don’t usually shoot their victims when someone is watching. Therefore, most murder cases must be proved by circumstantial evidence.”
Dirkson smiled and shook his head. “Well, I doubt if the circumstances have ever been more overwhelming than they are in this case. As I already started, we will show that David Castleton and Kelly Clay Wilder returned to his apartment at ten-thirty on the evening of the murder. We will show by the testimony of the medical examiner that David Castleton met his death sometime between the hours of eleven and twelve o’clock that night. We will show that he died of a single bullet fired into his heart. We will show that the murder gun, the gun that fired the fatal bullet, was left behind, next to the body.”
Dirkson paused, raised his finger. “Again, not an unusual circumstance. Most murderers leave the gun. No one wants to be caught with the murder weapon in their possession.”
Dirkson smiled. “However, in this instance, leaving the murder weapon there was a big mistake. See, Kelly Clay Wilder must have figured that it was what we refer to as a cold piece-that is, that it was an illegal, unregistered gun that could never be traced. Unfortunately for her, this is not the case. We will be able to show that the murder weapon was indeed duly licensed and registered. And who was the gun purchased by, licensed and registered to? None other than the defendant’s brother, Herbert Clay.”
Dirkson shrugged his shoulders, spread his hands wide. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I don’t want to insult your intelligence by pointing out what all these facts mean. It is very simple. We have a young woman hell- bent on revenge. So obsessed with the idea of revenge, that she was willing to run around naked in order to extort money from Milton Castleton, head of Castleton Industries, and subsequently set up an assignation and murder his grandson, David Castleton.
“We shall prove all these things beyond a reasonable doubt, and we shall expect a verdict of guilty at your hands.”
Dirkson bowed to the jury and sat down. As he did, a low murmur broke out in the courtroom.
Judge Wallingsford silenced it with his gavel.
Dirkson grinned. He couldn’t have drawn a better judge for this case. Wallingsford was an older judge, stern, severe, and quick with the gavel. He would brook no nonsense in his courtroom. Moreover, his judicial impartiality notwithstanding, Wallingsford’s cold, disapproving appearance implied a high moral tone, which would only serve to point up the defendant’s improprieties. All in all, Dirkson could not have done better.
Judge Wallingsford glanced over at the defense table, where Kelly Clay Wilder sat flanked by Steve Winslow, dressed as usual in corduroy jacket and jeans, and Harold Fitzpatrick, as usual the model of propriety in his three- piece suit. “Does the defense wish to make an opening statement?”
Fitzpatrick stood up. “The defense does, Your Honor.”
Dirkson smiled again. No surprise that Fitzpatrick would be handling the opening statement. That’s what he’d been hired for. To match Dirkson’s high moral tone and try to clothe the defendant in a cloak of respectability. In Dirkson’s mind, it was a hollow tactic, and one that wasn’t particularly going to work. So he was pleased to see the defense trying it.
Fitzpatrick walked out into the middle of the courtroom. Indeed, he looked just as solemn as Dirkson had, a frown of disapproval on his brow. Dirkson knew what would come next would be a weighty, ponderous argument.
Fitzpatrick did indeed begin slowly and ponderously. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he said. “I just heard District Attorney Harry Dirkson’s opening statement, and I have to tell you it is the most unusual opening argument I have ever heard.” His disapproving frown gave way to one of puzzlement. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard the word
Fitzpatrick held up his hands. “Well, I would just like to set the record straight on this point. We do not wish to contest the allegation that the defendant typed naked. She did. There is no question about it. She typed naked. Stark naked. Nude. Boffo. In the buff.”
Fitzpatrick paused and glanced around the courtroom. Everyone, including Harry Dirkson, was staring at him incredulously. Dirkson’s mouth was actually open.
Fitzpatrick held his hands wide and looked around. He was smiling, and he looked not so much an attorney than a vaudeville hoofer about to take off on a buck-and-wing. “You all got that?” he said. “I know Harry Dirkson did his best to hammer it in, but I want to make sure there’s no mistake. The defendant typed naked. Absolutely naked.” He held up one finger. “And what’s more, when she was naked, she didn’t have any clothes on.”
Fitzpatrick smiled, glanced around again. “Everybody got that? I want to make sure everybody got that. I want to be very clear on this point.” Fitzpatrick wheeled around, pointed his finger at Kelly Clay Wilder. “I’m going to ask the defendant to stand up and take her clothes off. Miss Wilder, would you please stand up-”
“Objection!” Dirkson thundered. He lunged to his feet. “Your Honor, I-”
Judge Wallingsford’s gavel cut him off. Simultaneously, a roar erupted in the courtroom, as the spectators, who had been stunned by what Fitzpatrick had said, all began talking at once. Judge Wallingsford banged the gavel furiously, shouted for order, but it was several seconds before the courtroom quieted down.
“That will do,” Judge Wallingsford said. His face was iron and his eyes were blazing. “Let the spectators be warned. Another such outburst, and I will clear this courtroom.” He shifted his eyes to glare down at Fitzpatrick. “Attorneys, I will see you in my chambers. Now.”
With that he got up and stalked from the courtroom.
27
Judge Wallingsford was controlling himself with a great effort. “Mr. Fitzpatrick,” he said. “I must say I would not have expected this sort of behavior from so conservative and respected a member of the bar.”
Fitzpatrick played it well-polite and deferential, but still cool and unperturbed. “I beg your pardon, Your Honor,” he said, “but to what do you refer?”
Judge Wallingsford nearly gagged. “What?” he sputtered. “To what do I refer? You just stood up in my courtroom and asked the woman you are defending to take her clothes off.”
“Oh, that,” Fitzpatrick said.
Judge Wallingsford took a breath. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, are you
“Not at all, Your Honor. But I don’t see what the commotion is all about. District Attorney Harry Dirkson is the one who brought up the matter of the defendant being nude. He mentioned it several times. He took great pains to emphasize the point.”
“Which he has every right to do,” Judge Wallingsford snapped. “And you have every right to emphasize the points you wish to emphasize in
“Only to make a point, Your Honor.”
“You’re not supposed to be making points. At least, not in that manner. You’re supposed to be stating what you intend to prove. This is a courtroom, not a sideshow. I won’t put up with such theatrics.”
Dirkson, who had been fuming on the sidelines, could control himself no longer. “It’s not him, Your Honor,” he said irritably. He pointed to Steve Winslow. “He put him up to it. It’s a typical Steve Winslow stunt. This whole thing is pure Winslow.”
Judge Wallingsford turned to Steve Winslow. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”
“I resent Mr. Dirkson’s remarks, Your Honor,” Steve said. “Fitzpatrick and I are co-counsel, and naturally we have conferred on strategy. I find the phrase ‘put him up to it’ offensive, and I’m sure Mr. Fitzpatrick does
