him. He’d take out the gun, say, ‘Guess what secret agent just smuggled ten thousand dollars through enemy lines.’”
“That’s when he
“I remember another time he came home and told me he just made a fifteen-thousand-dollar deposit totally unarmed because he’d forgotten to take his gun.”
“Where was his gun?”
“In his dresser drawer.”
“How do you know?”
“After he said that, he went in and checked to make sure it was there. He looked for it in the office, couldn’t find it, then he came home and found it at home.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “Now let me ask you this. Are you familiar with Herbert Clay’s sister, the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder?”
“Yes, I am.”
“How do you know her?”
“She came to the apartment once. About four months ago.”
“How did that happen?”
“When Herbert went to jail, I lost a roommate. That left me stuck for the rent. For a while it was all right. I’d been getting pretty steady work, and it was nice having my own apartment.
“Then money got tight, I got hit with a rent increase, and I decided I couldn’t go it alone anymore. Herbert wasn’t paying anything and Herbert wasn’t coming back. So I wrote him a letter, told him I was gonna have to put his stuff in storage and rent the room.
“Then she called me. His sister. Kelly Clay Wilder. Said Herbert told her about it and wanted her to come pack his stuff for him.”
“And she did?”
“Yes, she did. She came over with a bunch of boxes and tape and stickers, packed all his stuff and labeled it. A storage company came and carted it away.”
“She packed up Herbert Clay’s things?”
“That’s right. All of it.”
“Did you help her with it?”
He shook his head. “She wouldn’t let me. Kicked me out of there. Said she’d do it alone. Very possessive, she was.”
“Did you watch while she packed?”
“No. I offered to help her and she said no. Frankly, she was a nice-looking girl and I tried to make conversation with her, but she obviously wasn’t having any of it, so I left her alone.”
“So you didn’t see her pack the boxes?”
“No, I did not.”
“And there was nothing to prevent her from taking- Withdrawn. Mr. Bowers, do you recall if the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, brought anything with her to the apartment?”
“Like I said, cartons and tape.”
“Aside from that?”
“Yeah. Her purse.”
“What kind of a purse was it?”
“A drawstring purse. More of a bag, you know.”
“Was it a large purse?”
“Yes.”
“Big enough to hold a gun?”
Fitzpatrick was on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. The question is viciously leading and suggestive. I ask that the prosecutor be admonished.”
Judge Wallingsford banged the gavel. “Mr. Fitzpatrick, that will do. I will thank you to state such objections at the sidebar, out of the presence of the jury.”
Fitzpatrick stood his ground. “The question was asked in the presence of the jury, Your Honor.”
“I said that will do. The objection is sustained. Jurors, you are instructed to disregard that question. Is that clear? Proceed, Mr. Dirkson.”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Bowers, did the defendant take those cartons with her when she left?”
“No. They were left for the storage van.”
“Did she take
“Yes. She took her purse.”
Dirkson smiled. “Thank you.” He paused a moment, then, “Mr. Bowers, did you kill David Castleton?”
Bowers frowned, then smiled and shook his head. “No, I did not.”
“Did you know David Castleton?”
“No. I never met him.”
“Do you know anyone from Castleton Industries?”
“No one. Except for Herbert Clay.”
“Mr. Bowers, where were you on the night of June twenty-eighth between the hours of eleven and twelve?”
Bowers smiled. “I’m an actor. I was onstage in an off-Broadway production.”
“At eleven o’clock at night? Isn’t that long for a play to run?”
“It’s a cabaret piece. It runs an hour and fifteen minutes. We do two shows a night, one at nine and one at eleven.”
“So you were onstage that night from eleven o’clock until twelve-fifteen?”
“That’s right.”
“Thank you. That’s all.”
Fitzpatrick looked over at Winslow.
“Take him,” Steve said.
Fitzpatrick rose, crossed to the witness. He frowned and said, “Mr. Bowers, I’m not sure what you and Mr. Dirkson were getting at in the latter part of your testimony. Perhaps you could clarify it for me. Is it your contention that you could not have taken Herbert Clay’s gun and killed David Castleton because at the time of the murder you were onstage performing in cabaret theater?”
Bowers smiled and shrugged. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Yes and no, Mr. Bowers. If what you say is true, you couldn’t have fired the fatal shot. But you certainly could have taken the gun. Isn’t that right?”
Bowers frowned. “No. I didn’t take it.”
“But you had the opportunity to, didn’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“There’s no supposing about it. How long was it from the time Herbert Clay went to jail to the time the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder showed up to pack up his room?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Was it over a year?”
“Yes, it was.”
“And during that time Herbert Clay was in prison?”
“Yes, he was.”
“And during that time you were the sole occupant of that apartment?”
“That’s right.”
“Then when you say you suppose you had an opportunity to take the gun, that’s a pretty fair supposition, isn’t it?”
“Objection.” Dirkson said.
“Sustained.”
“Did you have the opportunity to take the gun?”
