be even greater.
The question was read back to Alvarez and he reluctantly conceded that yes, in theory, Jennifer could have been anywhere when the shots were fired. 'Except that she couldn't have gotten to her front gate in one minute from across the city,' he added.
Freeman smiled warmly. 'Indeed she could not,' he said. 'This is why I want you to be absolutely certain of your testimony, Mr. Alvarez, that you saw Jennifer Witt standing at her front gate. You are certain of that?'
Alvarez was not flustered but he surely was getting impatient. 'Yes, I'm certain.'
'But you've testified that she was looking back at the front door?'
'Yes.'
'And after that she began running down the street?'
'That's right.'
'And her house is where, in relation to yours?'
'It's just across the street.'
'And Olympia Way is a flat street, is it?'
'No. It's fairly steep. Maybe a three-percent grade.'
'And from the Witt home – is it exactly across Olympia Way from you, or a little uphill or downhill?'
Alvarez, with no clue what Freeman wanted, remained relaxed. He took a beat, though, to make sure that there wasn't a trap here. Not seeing it, he answered: 'I consider it just across the street, but you're right, it is slightly down the hill.'
Freeman remained crisp. 'I didn't say anything I could be right about, Mr. Alvarez. You're saying it.'
'So you were standing in your upstairs window, looking across and down the hill at Mrs. Witt, who was standing by her gate, and then, immediately, she began running down the street – that is, away from you. Is this your testimony?'
'Yes.' Alvarez sat back, crossing his legs. His patrician face had gradually tightened and now he was frowning.
Freeman pounced. 'All right, then, when did you see her face?'
Alvarez leaned forward. 'When did I see her face?'
'That's right, Mr. Alvarez. If she was facing away from you the whole time, looking at her house, and then she started running downhill, when did you get a chance to see her face?'
Alvarez went with the only story he could salvage. 'Well, I must have seen it from the side.'
'You must have? You must have? Did you or didn't you?'
'Yes I did. I did. I saw her profile. I knew it was Jennifer Witt. It never occurred to me it wasn't.'
'You mean it could have been so it must have been?'
'Your Honor!' Powell was on his feet. 'Counsel is badgering the witness.'
Freeman raised his hands theatrically. 'Your Honor, this is a crucial eyewitness for the prosecution, and the jury needs to know that his positive identification of Jennifer Witt is, in fact, highly questionable.'
Villars pursed her lips, disliking Freeman's histrionics but knowing he had a point. 'Nevertheless,' she said firmly, 'Mr. Powell is right. You're badgering the witness. We'll strike the last question. You may proceed.'
Freeman walked back to the defense table, took a sip of water, then turned back to the witness. 'Mr. Alvarez, let's talk about the gun, shall we? Did you see the gun?'
'The gun?'
'Yes. The murder weapon which somehow made its way to a dumpster down the street by the park. That gun. Did you notice if the person you identified as Jennifer Witt was holding that gun as she stood by the gate?'
'There was something bulging at her side.'
Freeman shook his head. 'Mr. Alvarez, please, just answer the question. Did you see a gun?'
Alvarez didn't like it and neither did Powell, but there was nothing he could do about it. 'No, but she was holding-'
Freeman held up a palm. 'Please, Mr. Alvarez, that's all. Let's move along, shall we?' Freeman turned again to glance at Jennifer and Hardy. This, of course, conveyed his expression to the jury as well – they would know that at least from his perspective he was eating Alvarez's lunch. He turned back to the witness box. 'The final point I'd like to ask about is along the same line I pursued with Mrs. Barbieto – how long is a minute?'
Villars pursed her lips, ready to squelch any histrionics before they got out of hand, but for all his penchant for showboating, Freeman was playing this cross-examination very straight, and Hardy doubted that he'd let his flamboyance sideswipe him when he was on such a roll.
'You've told us that you were at your wife's bedside, reading to her, when you heard the shots?'
'That's right.'
'And then, after the second shot, you got up to look across the street, is that right?'
Alvarez nodded wearily and Villars instructed him to answer questions with words. Nodding again, he said, 'Yes, I got up after the second shot.'
'Immediately? Within a minute, say? Or less?'
'Perhaps slightly less. Somewhere between immediately and a minute.'
'And then you walked to your front window?'
'That's correct.'
'And how far is that from your wife's bedroom?'
'I don't know exactly, maybe twenty feet, I'd guess. Something like that.'
'And you walked directly to the window? You didn't stop, for example, to go to the bathroom on the way?'
There was a nervous titter in the courtroom – Freeman was pushing the limits of Villars' endurance and knew it, but it played beautifully for the jury.
Alvarez didn't see the humor and answered soberly, 'Yes, I walked directly to the window.'
'And the person you saw at the gate was already there when you arrived, looking back at the house?'
'Yes.'
The picture was clear to Hardy, but he wondered how many of the jury saw it. All of them would, he believed, after Freeman got through with his opening statement for the defense: Could Jennifer have killed Larry and Matt upstairs in her house, then run down the stairs, through the house, out the front door and up the walkway, and then shut the gate in the time it took Anthony Alvarez to walk twenty feet, give or take less than a minute? He doubted it, he thought the jury would doubt it, too, especially once Freeman tied in his jogger, Lisa Jennings, for the misidentification by Alvarez, mistaking Lisa for Jennifer.
But Powell was not about to let Alvarez stand down on this, for him, low note. Trial rules permitted direct examination by the side giving its case-in-chief, then cross-examination by the opposition, then another round of questions should they be required by the side that had called the witness in the first place. This last round was the redirect, and Powell was up and rolling before Freeman got back at the defense table.
'Mr. Alvarez, just a couple more questions – how long have you known Mrs. Witt?'
'We've been acquainted for about four years. We went over and introduced ourselves when they moved in.'
'Four years. And during that time, I take it you've seen her walking away from you?'
'Yes.'
'And, obviously, in profile, haven't you?'
Alvarez finally started to loosen up with the friendly tone. He broke a smile. 'Of course. Many times.'
'And you have no doubt, personally, that the woman you saw at the gate across the street after the shots was Jennifer Witt.'
To his credit, realizing what it meant, Alvarez took some time, staring at Jennifer. 'I have nothing against the woman, but it was her.'
'Your Honor!'
'All right, Mr. Freeman. The jury will disregard that last answer. Mr. Alvarez, please just answer the
