Parnell Hall - The Innocent Woman

“Can’t get much worse, can it?” Taylor said.

“Yeah, it can,” Steve said. “Dirkson could subpoena Tracy, try to get her to testify.”

“She can’t,” Taylor said. “She’s got professional privilege.”

“To conversations, yes. Anything Amy Dearborn told her is privileged. Anything Tracy did…” Steve waggled his hand. “It’s a fine line.”

“You mean she’d have to talk?”

“I’d go to jail for contempt first,” Tracy said.

“You wouldn’t have to,” Steve said. “Because I’d be the one advising you not to talk. Of course, I may go to jail for contempt. But that might be preferable to aiding and abetting and conspiring to conceal a crime.”

The phone rang. Taylor scooped it up, listened. He covered the receiver. “It’s for you.”

“I thought your switchboard was screening calls.”

“They are. It’s the boyfriend. Wanna take it?”

“Boyfriend?”

“Larry Cunningham.”

“Great,” Steve said. “I can’t wait to hear his bright idea.” Steve took the phone. “Yeah?”

“I just called to say I don’t like the job you’re doing.”

“Oh, no?”

“No. They call a witness puts Amy right at the scene of the crime, what do you do, you ask for an adjournment.”

Steve rolled his eyes, looked at Tracy and Mark. “Well, what would you like me to do?”

“Challenge the guy. Don’t let him get away with that. The guy says eight o’clock, bullshit. Maybe that’s the time the guy picked her up, but not the time he dropped her off. Now, I don’t know where your secretary lives or how long the ride took, but that’s a starting point. Tackle the guy on the ride and get him to admit it was later. Push him past eight-thirty, the guy’s already dead, according to the medical examiner.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Steve said with heavy irony.

“I know it’s just a start,” Cunningham said. “But then you get me on the stand saying she didn’t leave the restaurant till after eight. Well, that’s important, see. This guy’s testimony undercuts that, if it’s eight o’clock. So push him back. Otherwise, when you put me on the stand it’s going to be hard to make it stick.”

“No kidding.”

“I mean it. If you don’t do a good job with this witness, we are in deep trouble.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Steve said, and hung up the phone.

“What was that all about?” Taylor asked.

“Amy’s boyfriend doesn’t like the way I’m handling the case, thinks I’m going to spoil his star turn on the stand.”

“Nice guy,” Taylor said.

“He’s a prince. Problem is, I’m rapidly reaching a point where I might have to depend on his testimony.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m desperate. You may not have noticed, but things are not going well. Unless we can come up with something, I may have to put that schmuck on the stand.”

“What good will that do?” Tracy said.

Steve shook his head. “Probably none. He’s Amy’s boyfriend, and the jury will expect him to lie to save her. If I put him on the stand, his testimony’s virtually worthless. The only way it would mean anything would be if Dirkson called him.”

“Why’s that?” Taylor said.

“Then he’d be a prosecution witness, and Dirkson would be bound by his testimony. He’d have to try to impeach him.”

“You mean if he said he was eating dinner with Amy Dearborn, Dirkson would have to try to prove he wasn’t?”

“Right.”

“Could he do that?”

“Who cares?” Steve said. “It would be a breath of fresh air just to see Dirkson in an uncomfortable position. The way things stand, all the pressure’s on us. The problem is, Dirkson’s got no interest in Cunningham.”

“He was interested enough in my cab driver,” Tracy said.

Steve Winslow looked at her. His eyes widened. “Son of a bitch.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Tracy said.

Mark Taylor looked from one to the other. “You’ll pardon me,” he said, “but I’m not sure what either of you are thinkin’.”

“I don’t know if we should tell you, Mark,” Steve said. “You might not like it.”

Taylor exhaled, rubbed his head. “Hell,” he said. “I hate it already.”

Steve Winslow checked his watch. “All set?”

Tracy Garvin nodded. “Yeah.” She dropped the quarter in the pay phone on the corner of Broadway and 72nd Street, referred to her steno pad, and punched in a number.

Moments later a voice said, “District Attorney’s office.”

Tracy raised the steno pad and began reading in a clipped, urgent voice. “Got a tip on the Dearborn case. Don’t put me on hold, don’t transfer me and don’t try to trace this call…. Don’t try it, buddy or I’ll hang up,” Tracy said, raising her voice to drown out the interruption. “I’m talking, you can listen or not. It’s the boyfriend, Larry Cunningham. The one she had dinner with. The defense is trying to keep him off the stand. You know why? She practically told him she was going to do it. She said when she saw him in court she freaked out. The guy framed her and got her fired. Just ’cause he was miffed at her for dumping him. She said it wasn’t enough to beat him in court, she wanted to see him dead.

“That’s right, now shut up. You want to hear this or not? This guy Cunningham, they’re acting like he’s going to be a witness for the defense. But the fact is, they want no part of him. ’Cause the guy’s a wimp, he hasn’t got the nerve to lie, and if he ever got on the stand, he’d panic and spill his guts.

“The kicker is, they don’t dare put him on the stand, because Cunningham knows the lawyer found Amy at the scene of the crime and sent her home to build up an alibi by taking a later cab.

“Never mind who I am, I’m just not going to let that little bitch get away with it.”

Tracy Garvin slammed down the phone, looked up at Steve Winslow. “How was I?”

Steve looked at his watch. “Just great. But the call went thirty seconds over. As our attorney, I would strongly advise us to get the hell out of here.”

Judge Wylie frowned down from the bench. “I’m not sure I understand this.”

Dirkson could hardly contain himself. “It’s perfectly simple, Your Honor. A matter has come up which requires our immediate attention. An allegation has been made that is so grave that I can scarcely believe it. But, if true, it alters the whole complexion of this trial.”

“Be that as it may,” Judge Wylie said. “The fact is, we have a witness on the stand who is yet to be cross-examined.”

“I ask that he be withdrawn from the stand in order that I call another witness.”

Judge Wylie frowned. “Your intention is to deny the defense attorney his right to cross-examine?”

“It’s not important,” Dirkson said.

Judge Wylie’s eyes widened. “Not important?”

Dirkson held up his hand. “No, no. I don’t mean that. I just mean I don’t want to go off on a tangent. Yes, of course he has the right to cross-examine. He can cross-examine him later to his heart’s content. If it ever comes to that.”

“If it ever comes to that?” Judge Wylie said.

Dirkson took a breath. “Your Honor,” he said. “It has come to my attention that evidence in this case may have been tampered with. It is possible that there has been a systematic attempt on the part of the defense to simulate events that did not in fact happen, and by so doing to attempt to manufacture an alibi for the defendant.”

“That is a very serious charge. I hope you are prepared to substantiate it.” He held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to say I hope the defense is guilty of an impropriety. I mean if you are making a charge like that, you’d better have something to back it up.”