“Call Officer Hanson.”
Officer Hanson took the stand and testified to obtaining a warrant and searching the defendant’s apartment.
“And what, if anything, did you find?”
“I found a message on her answering machine.”
“A message?”
“That’s right.”
“Could you tell if this message had been picked up?”
“Objection.”
“Sustained.”
“Officer Hanson, could you describe the answering machine in question with regard to its function?”
“Yes. It was the type of machine with a small red light. When the light is on, the machine is on, ready to receive calls. When the light is blinking, it means there’s
“What was the condition of the light when you discovered the answering machine?”
“It was on, but not blinking. It was steady.”
“What did that indicate?”
“That no one had called and left a message since the last time the answering machine was set.”
“What, if anything, did you do with the answering machine?”
“I pushed the play button to play back the messages.”
“Despite the fact the light indicated there were none?”
“Yes.”
“And why was that?”
“Because unless they had been deliberately erased, the last series of messages would be there. The way the machine works, when it’s reset, a new call will erase the old messages. Since no new call had come in, this hadn’t happened. So, unless someone had taken the time to erase the messages before resetting the machine-which people rarely do-the old messages would be there.”
“And was that true in this case?”
“Yes, it was. When I pushed play, there was a message on the machine.”
“One message?”
“That’s right. Only one.”
“After you listened to this message, what did you do?”
“I took possession of the micro-cassette.”
“The micro-cassette?”
“Yes. The one in the answering machine with the message recorded on it. I removed it from the machine at that time.”
“Why did you do that?”
“To preserve it as evidence. If another call had come in, it would have recorded over it.”
“You took possession of the micro-cassette?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Your Honor, I ask that this micro-cassette be marked for identification as People’s Exhibit Three.”
“So ordered.”
When the cassette had been marked, Dirkson approached the witness. “Officer Hanson, I hand you a micro- cassette marked for identification People’s Exhibit Three and ask you if it is the one you are referring to, the one you took possession of on that night.”
Hanson took it, looked it over. “Yes, it is.”
“And how do you recognize it?”
“By my initials, which I marked on it in pen.” After a pause, Hanson said dryly, “I might add, this is the
That comment drew a roar from the spectators in the courtroom.
Dirkson smiled. “I’m certainly glad to hear that,” he said. “Your Honor, at this time I’m going to ask that this micro-cassette be played for the jury.”
“How long will it take you to set up?” Judge Wylie asked.
“I’m ready now,” Dirkson said. He indicated the prosecution table, where his trial deputies had set up a tape deck and speaker and were in the process of plugging it in to an extension cord run from the wall.
“Very well,” Judge Wylie said.
Dirkson strode to the prosecution table, and, with a bit of a flourish, inserted the micro-cassette into the machine and switched it on.
For a moment there was no sound at all, and Dirkson had a panic attack that he’d hit the wrong button and was erasing the damn thing. Then the tape crackled on, and there came the “beep” before the recorded message.
Then the voice. Cocky, jaunty, playful. Chillingly so, coming from a dead man.
“Amy, Frank. Hey, babe, you really socked it to us. Gotta hand it to you, that was pretty neat. Listen, I’m down at the office catching up on some work. I’m all alone and feeling lonely. Whaddya say we patch things up? I bet we could, without your lawyer sticking his nose in. Whaddya say? Just you and me, babe. Just like old times.”
37
Amy Dearborn couldn’t meet Steve Winslow’s eyes. “It’s not like that,” she said.
“Not like what?”
“What he said on the tape. Wanting’ to see me without you. That had nothing to do with it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Then look at me.”
“Huh?”
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly, Amy raised her eyes.
“Good,” Steve said. “Tell me something. This whole time you’ve been holding back, not telling me the truth and the whole bit-was it because of this?”
“Huh?”
“Was that the deal? Fletcher tells you to cut your lawyer out. You went to see him, it’s like you’re trying to cut me out of the settlement. That’s how it feels to you, that’s how you think I see it, and that’s why you wouldn’t talk.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Then what is it?”
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“Great.” Steve sighed. “The problem is, once you start lying, it gets to be a habit. In this case, everything looks so bad, you think all you can do is lie. Well, wake up. I’m your lawyer. I’m the one person you don’t have to lie too. You tried to ace me out of a settlement, well frankly I don’t care.”
“I didn’t try to ace you out of a settlement.”
“Who cares?” Steve said. “Do you get the point? Nobody fucking cares.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “You’re on trial for murder. That’s problem number one. You got Tracy on the hook as an accessory. That’s problem number two. I’m risking being disbarred, if I’m not nailed as an accessory myself. That’s problem number three. Do you think the idea that I might have missed out on a chance to share in some penny ante settlement Fletcher might have proposed to you weighs very heavily on my mind? You see it as a big deal, because it means you deceived me.
