she even knows it was the same day. She doesn't. If Alvarez sticks to his identification, that still puts Jennifer in the house, and very probably we lose.' He pointed at her plate, his face softening. 'Eat your shrimp, woman, it'll make you strong.'
Frannie dutifully took a bite but her heart wasn't in it. 'I can't believe somebody – this man, Powell – who's talked to her and seen her is so determined to put her to death. God. I mean, she's a nice person, maybe a little confused but…'
Hardy shook his head. 'I don't mean to argue with you, but I don't think she's such a nice person. She's lied and she did kill at least one person' – he held up a hand – 'okay, maybe she had reasons, but I don't want to go overboard on what a sweetheart Jennifer Witt is.'
'Well, she sure didn't kill Larry and Matt.'
'I don't think she did.'
'Dismas, you know she didn’t.'
'I don't know that. I hope it and it's true I can't imagine that she killed Matt, but I don't know for sure. Nothing I've found, and I've been looking, proves she didn't do any of it.'
'But nothing proves she did, and that's what it comes down to, doesn't it? That's what Powell's got to prove.'
Hardy nodded. 'In theory.'
'Well?'
'Well, in fact quite a bit seems to indicate that she did do it. That's the problem. She's got five-million dollars if she's cleared, and she's out of her abusive marriage and-'
'And Matt?'
'Sure, except that…' Except Hardy knew that there were a host of so-called human beings on the planet who were capable of killing their offspring without remorse. He really didn't believe Jennifer was one of them, but…
'I don't think that's her.'
'I don't either, Fran, but it's not impossible. That's all I'm saying.'
'Well, I hate it. And I hate to hear you even suggest it.'
'I'm not all that fond of it myself.'
They sat, across the table from one another, the food forgotten. Hardy reached out a hand and Frannie took it. 'I've got a really startling idea,' he said. 'How about if we don't talk about Jennifer Witt or the law at all for oh, I don’t know, let's try five minutes? And if we make it, let's go for the whole night.'
It wasn't easy, but later on it was sweetly worth it.
37
As Hardy had feared, Anthony Alvarez was trouble.
It didn't help that he looked like Ricardo Montalban, the cosmopolitan spokesman for whatever quality car it was – little clipped white mustache, ruddy yet handsome chiseled face – except that his snow-white hair didn't flow, it was marine-cut. His business suit was neat – neither showy nor run-down. His posture was relaxed yet commanding and his vocabulary impressive. He had worked for the City for thirty years as a fireman before retiring seven years ago, rising to the rank of Assistant Chief. He was at home most of the time now, tending to his wife who was bedridden with a lung condition. In short, had he been a defense witness he would have been a godsend. But he was the prosecution's witness – in fact, he was their star.
At Powell's careful prodding he was telling the story again from his own perspective, talking about the shots. 'It was very unusual. It's a quiet street most of the time, and one noise like that, it was surprising but I didn't think too much of it. But then the second one, right away like it was, I thought I ought to go and look, see if there might be some serious disturbance.'
'And what did you do then?'
'Well, Mary's room… Mary is my wife… is up the stairs, the second room back. I had been in with her, reading to her, and after the second shot I walked up the hall to the window at the head of the stairs, which looks down over the street – Olympia Way.'
'And did you see anything then on the street?'
'Yes. I saw a woman dressed in some kind of a running outfit standing by the gate to Dr. Witt's house across the street.'
Powell had clearly coached Mr. Alvarez on how to answer his questions, and now he had him at the crux. 'Is that woman in this courtroom, Mr. Alvarez?'
The witness did not hesitate. 'Yes, she is, sir. She's right there' – he pointed – 'at the defense table.'
Powell nodded, the nail driven. 'Let the record show that the witness has identified the defendant, Jennifer Witt.'
There was the expected buzz in the courtroom, and next to Hardy, Jennifer hung her head, shaking it. Villars tapped her gavel a couple of times, calling for order, and Hardy took the moment to whisper to Jennifer. 'Look at him. Look right at him.'
Her head came up but she apparently couldn't sustain her defiance. Alvarez was staring directly back at her, conveying that he was committed to his accusation – it was you and there's no mistaking my certainty on it. Jennifer slowly crumbled, crossing her arms on the table in front of her, lowering her face until it rested on them.
Powell took it all in. There was a moment when he looked at Freeman, declaring himself the victor. Then it was gone. He turned back to the witness.
'What did she do then?'
Hardy was constantly surprised by the many guises of David Freeman. He never rose to cross-examine the same way twice. Sometimes, as he had demonstrated with Mrs. Barbieto, he didn’t rise at all, waiting for an invitation – more an ultimatum – from the bench. With Anthony Alvarez, when Powell had finished with him, Freeman figuratively leapt at his throat.
'Mr. Alvarez, you have just stated that you saw Mrs. Witt, standing by the gate, looking back to the front door, within a minute or so after the shots, is that correct?'
'Yes.'
'Did you see her leave the house?'
'No, she was by the gate when I saw her.'
'And your inference was that she had come from the house?'
'Yes.'
'That she was in the house when the shots were fired.'
'Yes.'
'And came out directly afterward, within a minute or so, which is when you saw her?'
'Yes, that's right. I did infer that.'
'She could, though, have been anywhere when the shots were fired, isn't that correct? Up the street, down the street, halfway across the city for that matter?'
Alvarez frowned and Powell objected.
'Are you going somewhere with this, Mr. Freeman?' Villars said.
Freeman nodded. 'I am clarifying, Your Honor, that the witness could not possibly have known where Jennifer Witt was when the shots were fired. He assumed that she was inside at the time. But if it was not Jennifer at the gate…'
Villars nodded. 'All right. I'll overrule the objection. You may continue, Mr. Freeman.'
It was a good exchange, Hardy thought. Of course, it didn't preclude that Jennifer had been inside at the time of the shooting, but for the first time the jury was listening to a prosecution witness testify that he could not say for certain that she was. And after Freeman brought up Lisa Jennings, the doubt that she had been there at all would
