The Naked Typist

“Yes, I did.”

“What did you tell him your job was?”

“I told him I was an actress.”

Dirkson smiled. “Which is the same thing you told the court.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“Now, let me ask you this. Are you familiar with the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Did you see the defendant Kelly Clay Wilder on June twenty-eighth?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Where did you see her?”

“She came into the singles bar.”

“The one where you were talking to David Castleton?”

“That’s right.”

“Were you talking to David Castleton at the time?”

“Yes, I was.”

“What happened then?”

“He saw her come in, and got up and met her at the door.”

“What did you do?”

“I went to the telephone.”

“The telephone?”

“Yes.”

“Did you make a telephone call?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Who did you call?”

“The agency.”

“The Taylor Detective Agency?”

“That’s right.”

“Who did you talk to?”

“No one. Well, actually, just the receptionist. Then I hung up.”

“Why?”

Marcie took a breath. “Because I saw them start to leave.”

“David Castleton and Kelly Clay Wilder?”

“That’s right.”

“So what did you do?”

“I followed them.”

“Out of the bar?”

“That’s right.”

“What happened then?”

“By the time I got outside they were gone.”

“I see,” Dirkson said. “Tell me. You say you saw the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder, come into the bar?”

“That’s right.”

“Had you ever seen her before?”

“No, I hadn’t.”

“Had you seen a picture of her?”

“No.”

“Then how did you recognize her?”

“I didn’t recognize her.”

“Then how did you know it was her?”

“I didn’t know it at the time. I know it now because I see her here in court.”

Dirkson frowned. “You didn’t know the woman who came into the bar was Kelly Clay Wilder?”

“No, I did not.”

“Did you suspect it was Kelly Clay Wilder?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“Now, when you got outside the bar and discovered David Castleton and Kelly Clay Wilder weren’t there, what did you do?”

“I returned to the Taylor Detective Agency.”

“Did you see anyone there?”

“Yes. Mark Taylor.”

“Did you see anyone else?”

“Yes.”

“Who was that?”

“Steve Winslow.”

“Steve Winslow? The defendant’s attorney?”

“That’s right.”

“You spoke with them?”

“That’s right.”

“After you spoke with them what did you do?”

Marcie raised her voice. “Well, Mark Taylor had instructed me to go home, but-”

“Objection,” Dirkson said. “You already ruled this witness can’t testify as to what she was instructed to do.”

Judge Wallingsford smiled. “She can’t be compelled to, but if she wants to volunteer it, that’s another matter. Are you asking that the remark be stricken?”

“No, let’s get on with it. Miss Keller, regardless of what you were instructed to do, when you left the Taylor Detective Agency, what did you do?”

“I went to an address on East Seventy-fourth Street.”

“What address was that?”

“I can’t recall exactly.”

“Was this an address you had written in your notebook?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Whose address was it?”

“The address of David Castleton.”

“You went to that address and what did you do?”

“I waited outside the building.”

“What were you waiting for?”

“To see if David Castleton would show up.”

“I see. Tell me. Was there anyone else waiting with you?”

“Yes, there was.”

“And who was that?”

“Dan Fuller.”

“Oh? And did you know this person?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How did you know him?”

“We worked together.”

“For the Taylor Detective Agency?”

“That’s right.”

“I see. So the two of you waited there together?”

“That’s right.”