“I see,” Steve said. “So, when you testified earlier that if another message came in after a message had been saved it would be recorded after the first message, you were telling us how your wife’s machine functions, were you not? But you’d, never actually tried that with the defendant’s machine.”
Officer Hanson took a breath, said nothing.
“Can you answer that, officer?”
“I’m testifying to what I understand to be the functioning of the machine. The blinking light means the message has been saved. If the message is saved, it will not be recorded over. If another message comes in it will be recorded, but not over the first one, which has been saved. If you want to argue that that’s a conclusion on my part, I suppose you can.” Hanson smiled. “I’m telling you what I know to the best of my ability.”
At the prosecution table, Dirkson nodded approvingly. Hanson was a good witness. The jurors liked him. Winslow’s technical nit-picking wasn’t winning him any fans.
“Thank you, officer,” Steve said. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you stated something else with regard to the functioning of the machine. Didn’t you say that since the red light was on, steady and unblinking, that indicated the message had been listened too?”
“That’s right.”
“I believe you stated that the
“Yes, it is. Otherwise the light would be blinking.”
“I see,” Steve said. “Now, in making that judgment, I wonder if you are referring to your experience with your wife’s machine or with the defendant’s?”
“I’m referring to both,” Hanson said. “They both function the same way. With a message, the light blinks. When you listen to it, unless you save that message, the light becomes steady.”
“I see,” Steve said. “And if I understand your contention, once the light is blinking, the
“That’s right.”
“Is it?” Steve said. “I wonder if you are basing
“Once again, I am basing it on my experience with both. The play button is the only function on the machine that will change the light from steady to blinking.”
“Really?” Steve said. “What if you turn it off?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What if you turn the machine off? The light is blinking. Instead of listening to the message, you press the
“Then the light would go out.”
“Exactly,” Steve said. “And when you turn the machine back on again, would that light be blinking or steady?”
Officer Hanson blinked. He opened his mouth. Closed it again.
“I take it you did not perform that experiment, Officer Hanson?”
“No, I did not.”
Steve Winslow turned to Judge Wylie. “Your Honor, at this time I would like to ask that Officer Hanson be excused from the stand in order to perform the experiment I have just described. Also, I would be interested to know what happens if the machine is unplugged and then plugged back in. Perhaps also, a circuit breaker could be thrown to simulate what would happen in the event of a momentary power failure.”
“Objection,” Dirkson said. “If defense counsel wants those test made, let him make them.”
Judge Wylie shook his head. “This witness testified that the tape must have been listened to. Despite the fact I had sustained an earlier objection that it called for a conclusion on the part of the witness for which no proper foundation had been lain. The request is that you lay the foundation. In the event you do not do so, I would have to entertain a motion to strike large portions of Officer Hanson’s testimony.
“Officer Hanson. You are hereby excused from the stand and ordered to report here at ten o’clock tomorrow morning, after having conducted any and all tests requested by the defense, and any others you feel necessary to support your testimony.
“Jurors are instructed not to discuss the case. Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”
39
“I don’t like it.”
Steve Winslow leaned back in his desk chair and looked over at the doorway where Tracy Garvin stood, her glasses folded up and her hands on her hips. “I beg your pardon?”
“What you’re doing in court. The stuff with the answering machine.”
“What about it?”
“It’s all wrong. She heard the message. I know she heard the message. You know she heard the message. The cops know she heard the message. She admits she heard the message.”
“Not to them.”
“I know, not to them.” Tracy said. “That’s how she lied to them. And that’s why you’re doing what you’re doing. But it just isn’t right.”
“Why not?”
“Because it isn’t true.”
“Tracy, everything a lawyer argues in court isn’t necessarily true. If my client came to me and said the guy’s a slimeball and she popped him one, she’s still entitled to a defense and I would still make the same cross- examination.”
“Bullshit.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You would not. You wouldn’t even touch the case.”
“That’s neither here nor there.”
Tracy’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean, it’s neither here nor there? It’s the whole thing I’m talking about. You’re an idealistic moron who wouldn’t defend a guilty client. That’s where you’re coming from. Straight out of a storybook, but there you are. All right, I accept that. But here you are in court trying to prove black is white. Trying to prove something you know isn’t true.”
“So?”
“How do you justify that?”
Steve shrugged his shoulders, spread his hands. “My client is innocent. Anything I can do to demonstrate that has to be right.”
“This doesn’t demonstrate a thing.”
“Oh?”
“All it does is obscure a point you happen to know is true.”
Steve smiled. “Tracy, I’m finding it hard to follow your logic.”
“Oh? I thought I was being perfectly clear.”
“You are. Just not terribly logical.”
“Oh yeah?”
“No offense meant. But do you recall on the night of the murder when I sent Amy Dearborn uptown to take a cab back?”
“Of course.”
“The reason I did that was so I would be able to argue in court against a fact that you and I happen to know is true-the fact that she actually arrived at the office at around eight o’clock.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Which is what the prosecution is attempting to prove with this answering machine bit.”
