“This dog was special to Walter,” Robinson says. “He told me many times that he thought he could be a champion. I know he would want me to help realize that dream.” The words would be enough to make me gag no matter who said them, but coming out of the mouth of this slimy worm make them even harder to take.
There is no way I can let this guy have Waggy.
My first question on cross-examination is, “How long has it been since you were in partnership with Walter Timmerman on a dog?”
“A little over four years,” he says.
“How many dogs have you owned since then?”
“I’m not sure. I would have to check the records.”
“I’ve checked the records,” I say. “Does eleven sound about right?”
“Sounds right,” he concedes.
“The records also say that Walter Timmerman has had fourteen dogs since then. Does that sound about right?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he says.
“You and your close friend and partner didn’t discuss these things?”
“We did. I just wouldn’t know the exact number.”
“So between you, you’ve had twenty-five dogs since your partnership ended?” I ask.
“Our partnership never ended.”
I nod. “I see. You no longer owned dogs together, but you were partners on some metaphysical level. How come your partner didn’t leave the dog to you in his will?”
“He left it to his wife. I’m quite sure that if he had any idea she would be killed, he would have included me as well.”
“So you believe he made a mistake in leaving you out?”
“Yes. Definitely. It surprised me.”
“I can imagine your shock, especially after you left him your dogs in your will.”
Robinson doesn’t respond, so I ask, “You did leave your dogs to your friend and partner, Mr. Timmerman, didn’t you?”
He suddenly becomes more subdued, and it doesn’t take Freud to sense an intense anger beneath the surface. “No.”
“So you made the same mistake that surprised you so much when Mr. Timmerman made it?”
“I’m afraid that I did.”
There’s little more I can do with Robinson except get some things on the record in case the worst should happen and he gains custody.
“If you had possession of the dog, what would you do with him? Would he be a household pet?”
“The first thing I would do is have my trainer, Ms. Potter, evaluate him and determine what his potential is as a show dog.”
“Because that’s what you think Mr. Timmerman would have wanted?”
He nods at finally hearing something he can agree with. “Exactly.”
“So he would spend the first month or so at Ms. Potter’s training facility, so as to see if he is capable of fulfilling Mr. Timmerman’s dream. Is that what you are representing to this court?”
“Yes.” He’s not happy at the direction this is going.
“And if he were judged incapable of mastering the training necessary to be a successful show dog, you would then have no interest in keeping him?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So what do you say?’
“I’d deal with that situation if it came up, but I doubt that it will.”
“No further questions.” I at least got him on record as promising to keep Waggy at the trainer’s facility for a month. I’m not sure how that will help, but I’d feel better if he were there than at Robinson’s.
I have no witnesses to call, since my position is that Steven remains the rightful heir. The only place I can make that point is in my closing argument, and I’ll get to have the final word, as Markinson will be speaking first.
He’s a smart guy and has caught on to Hatchet quickly, so he leaves out anything referring to the health and well-being of the dog. Instead he focuses on Robinson being the court’s only real option. Mrs. Timmerman is dead, Steven is obviously not in a position to take the dog, and there are no other candidates.
He adds the importance of a timely decision being reached, since show dogs must start their training at an early age. Obviously Walter Timmerman would have trained Waggy as a show dog, and the court has an obligation to try to follow through on his wishes when they are as obvious as this. If Charles Robinson is named custodian, he will see that Timmerman’s wishes come true.
It is a professional, persuasive closing, and the truth is that no matter what I say, it is likely to carry the day.
“Your Honor, as you know, Steven Timmerman is currently on trial for murder. You also know that I believe him to be wrongly accused, but that is now for the justice system to decide. And that decision will be reached in a relatively short period of time.
“Mr. Robinson’s alleged close friendship with Mr. Timmerman has not been demonstrated by a shred of evidence before this court, only by Mr. Robinson’s own testimony. And their partnership in the showing of dogs, such as it was, has not existed for a number of years. If Mr. Timmerman had wanted to place Mr. Robinson in the line of succession for custody of this dog, he could have. But he did not, and no evidence has been presented to show that his failure to do so was an oversight.
“If a verdict of not guilty had already been reached in Steven Timmerman’s trial, we would not be having this hearing. He would have been granted rightful custody of the dog, and justice would be done, and that would be that.
“I would submit that for Steven to lose custody before the verdict is reached would be to deny him his rights. And make no mistake: If Charles Robinson is made the custodian, Steven will never get this dog. The only proper reason for granting Mr. Robinson’s petition would be a demonstration that irreparable harm would be done by waiting for that verdict.
“The only such harm even claimed by the plaintiff, though also not supported by the evidence, would be that this animal’s future as a show dog would be damaged by a delay in training. Therefore, I will guarantee the court that if a decision is delayed, I will employ a leading trainer to work with the dog until a verdict in the Timmerman trial is reached.
“Thank you for your consideration, Your Honor.”
Hatchet does not exactly seem swept up in the emotional power of the arguments. He quickly says that he will consider his decision and announce it when he’s ready to do so.
I have absolutely no idea whether I’ve won or lost, and really don’t have the time to worry about it either way. If we lose, I’ll try to file an appeal, hopefully delaying a decision until Steven Timmerman is a free man. Or not.
Right now winning that freedom is what I have to be focused on.
RICHARD HAS A BASKETFUL of effective witnesses to call on, and to belatedly start the day he chooses Sergeant Michele Hundley, the forensics technician who was originally called to the Walter Timmerman murder scene in downtown Paterson. The police were smart enough to bring Hundley to the Timmerman house when it blew up, since they knew that the two cases would be connected. Therefore Hundley, whom I know to be good at her job and a terrific witness, would be able to testify to the entire case.
Hundley dresses conservatively in a suit with her hair up and wearing glasses. She reminds me of those women you sometimes see in TV commercials who miraculously transform themselves into knockouts simply by letting down their hair and removing their glasses. I can’t be sure about this, of course, since every time I’ve seen Sergeant Hundley she has rigidly clung to the librarian look.
Richard starts with the Walter Timmerman murder in downtown Paterson, getting Hundley to describe the
