The Naked Typist

Judge Wallingsford frowned. “Let’s have a sidebar.”

When the attorneys had gathered at the sidebar, Judge Wallingsford said, “Mr. Winslow, I tend to agree with Mr. Dirkson. This is certainly a side issue and hardly relevant.”

“It relates to his bias,” Steve said.

“We freely admit his bias, Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “The witness is fiercely loyal to Castleton Industries and is biased against the defendant because he believes that she killed David Castleton. Any remarks he may have made about her leaving her employment are certainly a side issue.”

“I suppose that would depend upon the answer given,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Mr. Winslow, are you assuring me his answer will show bias?”

“The point is actually moot, Your Honor,” Steve said. “The question is admissible for another reason.”

“What is that?”

“It’s an elemental rule of law that when the prosecution introduces part of a conversation on direct examination, the defense is entitled to the entire conversation on cross.”

“But I didn’t ask for any conversation,” Dirkson said.

Steve smiled. “Come, come. Didn’t the witness testify that I came to Milton Castleton’s apartment, accused him of sexual harassment and demanded a settlement?”

“But that’s not asking for a conversation.”

“Do you contend that I came there and handed them my demand in writing, or perhaps conveyed it to them by mental telepathy?”

Dirkson frowned.

Judge Wallingsford said, “I think that’s conclusive, Mr. Dirkson. As far as the court is concerned, the door is open. The objection is overruled.”

After the judge and the lawyers had resumed their positions, Steve Winslow said, “I’ll repeat the question, Mr. Danby. On the occasion when I came to Milton Castleton’s apartment, accused you of sexual harassment and demanded a settlement, what explanation did you give for the defendant leaving her employment?”

Danby shifted position on the witness stand. “I believe I said that she had made improper advances toward me.”

“You believe you said that?”

“No, I said that.”

“That is what you said, Mr. Danby?”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s mighty strange. You just got on the witness stand under oath and told us the defendant left Milton Castleton’s employ because you caught her playing with the computer terminal and thought she was an industrial spy. Did you not so testify?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, gee, which is correct, Mr. Danby? The story you told on the witness stand, or the story you told me that day in Milton Castleton’s apartment?”

“I have testified to the truth.”

“Then the story you told me in Milton Castleton’s apartment was a lie?”

Danby took a breath. “It was not the entire truth.”

“The entire truth? It wasn’t true at all, was it?”

“Well …”

“Was it true or wasn’t it?”

“No, it was not.”

“It was a lie, was it not, Mr. Danby?”

“Objection. Already asked and answered.”

“Overruled.”

“Yes, it was.”

“The story you told me that afternoon in Milton Castleton’s apartment about how the defendant left her job was a lie, is that right?”

“Objection. Already asked and answered.”

“Sustained.”

“Mr. Danby, why did you lie to me that afternoon in Milton Castleton’s apartment?”

“Objection.”

“Overruled.”

Danby hesitated. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “You were the defendant’s attorney. We didn’t know what you knew. Since we were dealing at arm’s length, we didn’t want to give you any information you didn’t already have. We didn’t know what the situation was, we were playing it very cautiously.”

“When you say we, you mean you and Milton Castleton?”

“That’s right.”

“Tell me, Mr. Danby. Did you just lie to me, or did you lie to Milton Castleton as well.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“Did Milton Castleton know the story you were telling me was a lie?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“Mr. Danby, getting back to your explanation of why you lied to me, you say it was because you didn’t know what was going on and you didn’t know what I knew. Is that right?”

“Yes it is.”

“So you were trying to protect yourself?”

“That’s right.”

“By yourself, you mean you and Milton Castleton?”

“That’s right.”

“Mr. Danby, I take it that you are fiercely loyal to your employer?”

“It is no secret that I am loyal to Milton Castleton.”

“And you would do anything to protect him? Even lie?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“Thank you. That’s all.”

36

After Phil Danby’s testimony, the next witnesses were somewhat of an anticlimax. Dirkson couldn’t help that, but he was sharp enough to know it and to compensate for it. He simply shifted gears, quickly, coolly and methodically tracing David Castleton’s last moments on the night of his death.

First he called the bartender from the singles bar on Third Avenue, who testified that David Castleton had showed up sometime in the vicinity of six-thirty to seven o’clock. David Castleton was a regular there, the bartender knew him well, and there was no doubt about it. He’d been at the bar, drinking and talking with a young woman who was not the defendant. But he had not left with her. He had left her at the bar to go talk to another woman who had just arrived. The bartender could not identify that woman as the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, and was forced to admit he had not been paying that much attention. Nor could he testify that David Castleton had left with this woman. All he knew was that from that point on he didn’t recall seeing him again.

Next up was the cabdriver who testified to picking up a young man and woman outside the singles bar and taking them to Gino’s, a small Italian restaurant on the upper East Side. The cab-driver could not identify the man, but testified that he thought the woman was the defendant. His identification of her was shaky at best, and on cross-examination Fitzpatrick all but made him retract it.

That turned out to be a moot point, because next up were the waiter and maitre d’ from Gino’s, both of