The Naked Typist

Dirkson shifted restlessly in his chair. He couldn’t wait to get a crack at her.

“Now,” Fitzpatrick said, “when you left David Castleton’s apartment at eleven-thirty that night, was he alive?”

“He most certainly was.”

“And you left with him a floppy disk marked X dash one containing the memo you claim was written to Milton Castleton by your brother, Herbert Clay?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And where was the original floppy disk? The one you used to copy the memo from Milton Castleton’s computer?”

“In a box of floppy disks in my apartment.”

“And was it marked?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“With a gold X.”

“Do you know where that floppy disk is now?”

“No, I do not. I asked my attorney, Steve Winslow, to get it for me, and he informed me it is not there.”

“Objection. Hearsay.”

“Sustained. That remark will go out.”

“I see,” Fitzpatrick said. “But to the best of your knowledge, the original memo from which you copied the floppy disk still exists in the backup file in Milton Castleton’s computer?”

“As far as I know.”

“Thank you. That’s all.”

With the announcement, spectators burst out talking. Judge Wallingsford banged for quiet.

Dirkson rose to his feet.

But before Dirkson could cross over to the defendant, Steve Winslow stood up and said, “Your Honor, at this point I have a motion which must be made outside the presence of the jury.”

Dirkson stopped in midstride. His face darkened. “Your Honor, I object. This is completely out of order. The defendant is on the stand, and I am about to cross-examine. The defense has no right to make a motion now.”

“Your Honor, I ask to be heard,” Steve said. “Not only is my motion in order, but by its very nature it is a motion that can only be made now.”

“Nonsense,” Dirkson said. “Your Honor, this is a stalling tactic. To keep me from cross-examining the defendant. I insist that-”

Judge Wallingsford’s gavel cut him off. “Mr. Dirkson, that will do. Whatever the actual case, this will not be argued in the presence of the jury. Bailiff, will you please show the jury to the jury room.”

Dirkson fumed in silence while the jurors were led out. As soon as the door closed, he wheeled around. “Your Honor,” he said angrily “this is exactly what I object to. Just by arguing this motion, counsel is accomplishing his purpose. Which is to prevent me from cross-examining the defendant. Which it is both my right and duty to do. I ask that you cite Mr. Winslow for misconduct.”

Judge Wallingsford took a breath. “Mr. Dirkson, I understand your impatience, but you’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re arguing against a motion we have not yet heard. Let’s find out what this is all about, and then I’ll be able to tell if your argument has any validity. Mr. Winslow, what is your motion?”

“Your Honor, at this time I must ask that the defendant be temporarily excused from the stand so that the defense may put on some evidence out of order.”

Dirkson’s face purpled. “There, Your Honor. It’s exactly as I told you. To get the defendant off the stand before I can cross-examine her. It’s absolutely outrageous. The motion should be denied, and the attorney should be censured.”

Judge Wallingsford nodded. “Mr. Winslow. Mr. Dirkson has a point. What possible reason can you give for removing the defendant from the stand at this time to put on additional evidence?”

“Because, Your Honor,” Steve said, “the evidence I am referring to is by its very nature perishable. If I were not to introduce it now, there is a clear and present danger that this evidence might cease to exist.”

“Perishable, Mr. Winslow?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Then I beg your pardon. Mr. Dirkson, if the evidence Mr. Winslow is referring to is indeed perishable, then his motion would have validity and I would have to consider it. But it is now necessary for us to go into the nature of the evidence.” He turned back to Steve Winslow. “But I must warn you, Mr. Winslow. If it should turn out that this is not the case, if the evidence you are referring to is not pertinent, not perishable, in fact has no bearing on these proceedings whatsoever, if you indeed have made this motion merely as a stalling technique to prevent Mr. Dirkson from his right and just cross-examination, then you would indeed be in danger of being cited for misconduct. So be fairly warned, and think before you answer. Do you wish to continue with this motion?”

“I do, Your Honor.”

“Very well. You are aware of what the consequences might be. Tell me. What is this evidence you wish to introduce?”

Steve Winslow turned and looked out over the courtroom to the man who was sitting in the back next to Mark Taylor and Tracy Garvin. “Mr. Pennington, would you please stand up?”

Pennington, a tall man with a thin face, a shock of untidy brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses, stood up.

Steve Winslow pointed. “Your Honor, this is Mr. Arthur Pennington. He is a senior technician with IBM. He is prepared to testify that what the defendant just told you about the backup system of the IBM computer is true, that it is possible to erase a document from the main files, and have that document still exist in the computer’s backup system.”

“So what?” Dirkson said. “The prosecution will stipulate that.”

Steve went on as if he hadn’t heard the interruption. “He is further prepared to testify that it’s also possible for a person who knows computers to erase that same document from the backup file itself so that no trace of it could ever be found in the computer by any technique whatsoever.

“Now, Your Honor,” Steve said,” Miss Wilder has testified that the memo existed in Fax-log and was subsequently erased from there. According to her testimony, that memo still exists in the backup file. And Your Honor will note that up until the time she gave her testimony, she was the only one who knew this. So if she is telling the truth, there is every reason to believe the memo still exists.

“But now that she has said so in open court, now that people know that it is there, Mr. Pennington will testify that anyone who didn’t want that memo to be found could erase it just like that.”

Judge Wallingsford frowned.

Steve pressed his advantage. “Your Honor must take judicial cognizance of the importance of that memo. The prosecution claims Kelly Clay Wilder killed David Castleton as part of a vindictive campaign against Castleton Industries. The defendant’s testimony contradicts that. The crux of the defendant’s testimony is the piece of evidence that she went there to retrieve. The piece of evidence that she found and gave to David Castleton. If that piece of evidence exists, it corroborates her story and demolishes the prosecution’s theory, because why would she have killed David Castleton after making him privy to information that could only persuade him to join her side?”

“Your Honor, Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “This is the sheerest nonsense. The defense attorney has no right to make a speech. If that memo exists or not, it doesn’t prove anything like he just said. How do we know she ever showed that memo to David Castleton? How do we know it turned him into an ally? We have only the defendant’s word for that. She could have shown him the memo, he could have reacted in such a way as to lead her to believe he was the embezzler, she could have become angry and shot him over that.”

A high-pitched, inarticulate grunt caused every head in the courtroom to turn.

Dirkson looked around to see Milton Castleton, his eyes flaming, attempting to pull himself out of his chair in the second row.

Dirkson’s face flushed. He realized he’d gone too far. “I withdraw that, Your Honor.” Dirkson said. “It was the