38
It went well.
When Fitzpatrick stood up and called the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, to the stand, it caused a buzz of excitement in the courtroom. This was going to be good. The defendant had never told her story to the police, to the press, to the public. Now they were finally going to get to hear it. The mystery woman, the beautiful young defendant, the woman whose name had been on the front page of the papers for days, the woman who had held down the bizarre job of typing nude for a multimillionaire, was finally going to speak. As she took the stand, the jurors were actually leaning forward in their chairs in anticipation.
And she was good. She told her story simply and directly in a clear, calm voice. And for the most part, she kept the bitterness out. As a result, her story came through.
Her brother had gone to jail for a crime he didn’t commit. It was up to her to get him out. These were the steps she had taken to do that.
She told of meeting her brother in jail, of trying to jog his memory to find anything that might help to clear his name.
The mention of the memo caused quite a stir. It was the first the jurors had ever heard of it. It sparked their interest. The defendant’s actions, almost incomprehensible up till now, suddenly took focus. Perhaps there
Fitzpatrick led her skillfully through the next part of her testimony. How she tried to figure out a way to get inside Castleton Industries. How she learned Milton Castleton was having his memoirs typed. How she saw the ad in the
She was good here too. She didn’t duck the issue, she met it head on. She didn’t want to work nude, she found it distasteful and demeaning, but she felt she had to do it to help her brother.
Fitzpatrick, conservative, kind, sympathetic, set just the right tone. And that difficult phase of her testimony came off without a hitch.
She told of using her terminal to tap into the main computer. Of searching Fax-log for the memo and finding it had been erased. Of searching the backup system and finding it.
That made quite a sensation. Some of the jurors were actually listening openmouthed to the rest of it. Of her copying the memo onto a floppy disk and hiding it in her purse. Of Danby surprising her and chasing her from the apartment. Of her attorney retrieving the purse and her finding the floppy disk still there.
And finally, her meeting with David Castleton.
“Now let me make no mistake about this,” Fitzpatrick said. “You met with David Castleton, just as the prosecution said you did?”
“Yes, I did,” Kelly said.
“You met at a singles bar on Third Avenue, you went by taxi to a restaurant called Gino’s and proceeded to have dinner?”
“That’s right.”
“Over dinner you told him what you actually wanted?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you tell him who you were?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“He had no idea you were Herbert Clay’s sister?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“But he knew you were interested in the case?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then why did you go to his apartment?”
“To show him the memo.”
“The memo you found in the Fax-log backup file in Milton Castleton’s computer?”
“That’s right.”
“The memo you claim was sent to Milton Castleton by your brother, Herbert Clay?”
“Yes.”
“How were you going to show it to him?”
“I had the floppy disk with me.”
“You had it with you?”
“Yes. It was in my purse.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“No, I did not. I only asked him if he had a computer. When he said he did, I asked him questions to find out if it was IBM compatible.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“There are different kinds of computers. The floppy disk I had was for an IBM-compatible machine. It would only play on one of those.”
“I see. And was his IBM-compatible?”
“Yes. I figured it would be. He would naturally want to have a computer that was compatible with his grandfather’s, so he could transfer data back and forth.”
“I see. And when you learned he had an IBM-compatible computer, what did you do?”
“I told him I wanted to go to his apartment.”
“Did you tell him why?”
“No.”
“Did you go?”
“Yes, we did.”
“What time was that?”
“It was about ten-fifteen when we left the restaurant.”
“How did you get to his apartment?”
“In a cab.”
“Did the cab take you right to the door?”
“Yes, it did. David gave the cabdriver his address.”
“What time did the cab let you out?”
“Around ten-thirty.”
“You went up to David Castleton’s apartment around ten-thirty?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what happened then?”
“I asked him to show me his computer.”
“Did he?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Then what?”
“He switched it on. I put the floppy disk in and I called up the memo.”
“You showed the memo to David Castleton?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did he read it?”
“Yes, he did.”
“What was his reaction?”
“Objection,” Dirkson said, then seeing the looks of exasperation on the jurors’ faces at this unwelcome interruption, said “Withdrawn.”
“What was his reaction?” Fitzpatrick repeated.
“He was floored,” Kelly said. “He couldn’t believe it.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Yes. In exactly those words. He said, ‘I can’t believe it.’”
Fitzpatrick frowned. “ ‘I can’t believe it’ is a colloquial phrase expressing surprise. Did you understand David
