direction.
On cross, Jaywalker could do little but get Mazzini to admit he'd had, and still had access to, a key to Tannen baum's apartment, and that he'd been vaguely aware of a disagreement between Tannenbaum and the president of the co-op, Kenneth Redding. When Mazzini denied that he'd sided with Redding in the dispute, there was little Jay walker could do. On redirect examination, Burke asked his witness if he was sure he hadn't had some reason to want to kill Tannenbaum.
MR. MAZZINI: Kill him? The man used to tip me two grand at Christmastime.
Why would I want to kill him?
Even Jaywalker had to admit it was a pretty good question. He toyed with the idea of asking Mazzini if he knew what the asking price for Penthouse A was, and how much there might have been in it for him if he could have gotten Tannenbaum thrown out of the building for causing water damage to Redding's apartment. But all he had to go on was Samara's suggestion that Mazzini and Redding had shared a common interest, and faced with the witness's denials, his pursuit of that line of questioning would only have led him into a dead end and further antagonized the jurors.
So Jaywalker settled for getting the super to admit that he'd remained in the apartment for half an hour after the discovery of the body, that he'd walked around some, and that sure, he'd probably touched some things.
Not much, certainly, but-coupled with the fact that his fingerprints hadn't been found there-at least something for Jaywalker to talk about on summation.
Next Burke called Kenneth Redding, who'd flown in from Aruba the night before, cutting short a vacation, a fact that he seemed none too happy about. Yes, he'd had a dispute with Tannenbaum, Redding admitted, but that came with the job of being president of the co-op board. It was a tightly run building, and at one time or another he'd had issues with just about every one of its owners and tenants. The point of contention between Redding and Tan nenbaum had involved an unpaid bill of about thirteen thousand dollars, representing the cost of damage to Red ding's apartment not covered by Tannenbaum's insurance. Redding had demanded payment, and Tannenbaum had refused, claiming that Redding had taken advantage by upgrading his kitchen at Tannenbaum's expense. Redding denied that he'd done so.
MR. BURKE: In any event, given your fi nances and those of Mr. Tannenbaum, as you under stand them to have been, would you call the amount in dispute a lot of money?
MR. REDDING: Personally, I'd call it chump change.
MR. BURKE: Enough to kill someone over?
MR. REDDING: (Laughing) It'd take a helluva lot more than that to get me to kill someone.
The jurors' chuckles made it clear that they were in full agreement.
Again, about all Jaywalker could do on cross was to es tablish that Redding, like Mazzini, had a passkey that opened the door to every apartment in the building, though Redding was initially a little less forthcoming about admit ting the fact. Apparently the bylaws of the co-op didn't provide for the arrangement, but he'd gotten Mazzini to make him a key anyway.
MR. REDDING: You know, for emergency use.
MR. JAYWALKER: Like a fire, or a similar disaster?
MR. REDDING: Yeah, that sort of thing. Exactly.
MR. JAYWALKER: So in the event of a nuclear attack, say, you could go from floor to floor, unlock ing everyone's apartment?
MR. BURKE: Objection.
MR. JAYWALKER: I'll withdraw the question.
Burke followed up by calling Alan Manheim. The very first question out of Burke's mouth was whether Manheim currently had, or had ever had, a key to either Barry Tan nenbaum's apartment or Samara's town house. Manheim replied emphatically that he didn't, and never had.
Manheim testified that he'd been employed on a fulltime basis as Barry Tannenbaum's personal lawyer for eleven years. During that time, he'd been involved in, among other things, the purchase and sale of several homes and other properties, the negotiation of a divorce settlement with Tannenbaum's third wife, and the drawing up of a pre nuptial agreement between Barry and Samara, the terms of which fully protected Barry in the event of yet another divorce, and ensured that Samara would walk away with precisely what she'd brought to the marriage- which, in round numbers, had been nothing.
Manheim had continued to work for Tannenbaum in a variety of capacities, as significant as securing a non refundable ten-million-dollar advance to write an autobi ography, never even begun, and as mundane as paying overdue parking tickets. Then, about six months before Tannenbaum's death, he and Manheim had abruptly parted company.
MR. BURKE: And why was that?
MR. MANHEIM: We had a disagreement.
MR. BURKE: Would you describe the nature of the disagreement.
MR. MANHEIM: There were two issues, really. For one thing, there was Mr. Tannenbaum's health. He'd been diagnosed with cancer, and he wanted to update his will. Specifically, he wanted to know if there was any way he could disinherit his wife, and leave his estate entirely to his foundations, his endow ments, his university and various charities he'd set up.
MR. MANHEIM: I told him that even were he to write Samara out of his will, it wouldn't work. The law would step in and give her half of his assets.
MR. BURKE: Was that an accurate statement of the law?
MR. MANHEIM: Yes. It's so fundamental, they teach it to you in the first year of law school.
MR. BURKE: Is it fair to say that your response didn't particularly endear your self with Mr. Tannenbaum?
MR. MANHEIM: Yes, that's accurate. He wasn't happy about it.
MR. BURKE: You said there was another issue.
MR. MANHEIM: Yes.
MR. BURKE: Tell us about that.
MR. MANHEIM: Barry-how shall I say this? had a bit of a paranoid streak. He accused me of stealing, of embezzling funds from him.
MR. BURKE: Was there any merit to that accusation?
MR. MANHEIM: No, absolutely not. None whatsoever.
MR. BURKE: And how was the matter resolved, if indeed it was?
MR. MANHEIM: I became more and more in censed at his repeated accusations. Finally I offered my resignation.
MR. BURKE: And?
MR. MANHEIM: And Mr. Tannenbaum accepted it.
MR. BURKE: And six months later, did you get even by plunging a steak knife into his heart?
MR. MANHEIM: Absolutely not. I got even by securing an even better-paying job, and by continu ing to be the very best attorney I can possibly be.
If it was a crude way of eliciting a denial, it was also ef fective. What interested Jaywalker, however, wasn't what Burke had asked his witness; it was what he had refrained from asking. Which meant one of two things, as far as Jay walker was concerned. Either Burke didn't want to go there for some reason, or he was setting a trap for Jaywalker. There's a rule of thumb employed by just about all lawyers who try cases, and it goes like this: 'Never ask a question unless you already know the answer.'
As he did with most rules, Jaywalker chose to ignore it, but only selectively. His modification altered it to