Parnell Hall: The Naked Typist

Steve Winslow pointed. “Your Honor, this is Mr. Arthur Pennington. He is a senior technician with IBM. He is prepared to testify that what the defendant just told you about the backup system of the IBM computer is true, that it is possible to erase a document from the main files, and have that document still exist in the computer’s backup system.”

“So what?” Dirkson said. “The prosecution will stipulate that.”

Steve went on as if he hadn’t heard the interruption. “He is further prepared to testify that it’s also possible for a person who knows computers to erase that same document from the backup file itself so that no trace of it could ever be found in the computer by any technique whatsoever.

“Now, Your Honor,” Steve said,” Miss Wilder has testified that the memo existed in Fax-log and was subsequently erased from there. According to her testimony, that memo still exists in the backup file. And Your Honor will note that up until the time she gave her testimony, she was the only one who knew this. So if she is telling the truth, there is every reason to believe the memo still exists.

“But now that she has said so in open court, now that people know that it is there, Mr. Pennington will testify that anyone who didn’t want that memo to be found could erase it just like that.”

Judge Wallingsford frowned.

Steve pressed his advantage. “Your Honor must take judicial cognizance of the importance of that memo. The prosecution claims Kelly Clay Wilder killed David Castleton as part of a vindictive campaign against Castleton Industries. The defendant’s testimony contradicts that. The crux of the defendant’s testimony is the piece of evidence that she went there to retrieve. The piece of evidence that she found and gave to David Castleton. If that piece of evidence exists, it corroborates her story and demolishes the prosecution’s theory, because why would she have killed David Castleton after making him privy to information that could only persuade him to join her side?”

“Your Honor, Your Honor,” Dirkson said. “This is the sheerest nonsense. The defense attorney has no right to make a speech. If that memo exists or not, it doesn’t prove anything like he just said. How do we know she ever showed that memo to David Castleton? How do we know it turned him into an ally? We have only the defendant’s word for that. She could have shown him the memo, he could have reacted in such a way as to lead her to believe he was the embezzler, she could have become angry and shot him over that.”

A high-pitched, inarticulate grunt caused every head in the courtroom to turn.

Dirkson looked around to see Milton Castleton, his eyes flaming, attempting to pull himself out of his chair in the second row.

Dirkson’s face flushed. He realized he’d gone too far. “I withdraw that, Your Honor.” Dirkson said. “It was the wildest fantasy. I was just trying to show you how ridiculous the defense attorney’s contentions are. We know nothing like that happened. What I am saying is, the existence of this memo, which I personally do not believe exists, wouldn’t prove a thing he says it would. I ask that the motion be denied.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Judge Wallingsford held up his hand. “That will not be necessary, Mr. Winslow. The court is now going to rule. The court rules that once this matter has been brought up, it cannot be dropped. That in view of the defendant’s testimony, in view of Mr. Winslow’s assurances that Mr. Pennington would testify that if this memo does indeed exist that it could be erased, the court rules that the evidence is perishable and that steps will be taken to preserve it.

“The court makes the following directive. The court orders court officers to proceed immediately to Milton Castleton’s apartment and seal up the premises until the evidence can be seen. The court further instructs that any attempt on the part of any of the parties involved to communicate with any of the occupants of the apartment shall be considered contempt of court. And that includes Mr. Castleton himself.

“The court further directs that Mr. Pennington, Mr. Fitzpatrick, Mr. Winslow, Mr. Dirkson and myself shall proceed immediately to Milton Castleton’s apartment, and in our presence Mr. Pennington will examine that computer and see if that memo does indeed exist in the backup file. Mr. Castleton and his associates will, of course, be present.

“As this will effectively take up the afternoon, we will then adjourn for the day. The defendant is hereby remanded to custody, and the jurors may be sent home. The rest of us will proceed immediately to Milton Castleton’s apartment to examine the evidence, and we will reconvene tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.

The procession of cars made its way up Madison Avenue. Only three of the cars were official: the limousine carrying Milton Castleton, Stanley Castleton and Phil Danby; the car carrying Judge Wallingsford, Harry Dirkson and Arthur Pennington; and the car carrying Steve Winslow and Harold Fitzpatarick. The rest of the cars carried the hordes of reporters who, while they had no right to be there, weren’t going to miss it.

The cars went across 72nd Street, down Fifth Avenue and pulled up in front of Milton Castleton’s building. Winslow and Fitzpatrick got out in time to see Phil Danby and Stanley Castleton assisting Milton Castleton out of the limo. Judge Wallingsford, Dirkson and Pennington walked up and they all met in front of the apartment, where Milton Castleton was demonstrating that he was still very much in charge.

Castleton pointed a bony finger at Judge Wallingsford. “All right,” he said. “You’ve ordered this, so I, of course, will allow it. If such a memo exists, I want to know it. But I have to tell you I don’t believe a word of it, and I personally resent the intrusion.”

“I understand, Mr. Castleton,” Judge Wallingsford said. “And I hope you understand why it must be done.”

Milton Castleton did not even acknowledge that. “Well, let’s get on with it,” he said irritably.

Dirkson cast an exasperated glance at the taxis full of reporters that had just pulled up. “Yeah, let’s do it,” he said.

The two court officers already stationed at the front door let them in, then moved with a degree of satisfaction to keep the reporters out.

Inside, an elevator large enough for all whisked them up to the eighth floor where they emerged in the spacious foyer of the floor-through apartment. Milton Castleton, with his son’s and Phil Danby’s assistance, led the way to the office. Danby opened the door and they went in.

Of the lawyers, judge and witness, only Steve Winslow had been in the office before. The others were slightly overawed, first, by its size, and second, by a sight that they all observed but no one pointed out or even alluded to-the curtained window in the office wall.

The huge computer was on the opposite wall. Pennington spotted it, rubbed his hands together happily, made for it and sat down. The others formed a semicircle around him. Pennington switched the computer on.

As the computer began to whir, Dirkson said, “At this time I’d like to renew my objection to this entire proceeding. I’d like to point out that even if the memo does exist, it proves nothing. The defendant admits fiddling with the workings of this computer. If Mr. Pennington should find a memo in the backup system, there is nothing to prove that the defendant didn’t type it there herself.”

“You pointed that out in the car, Mr. Dirkson,” Judge Wallingsford said.

“I want to point it out in front of opposing counsel. I want to point out that Mr. Pennington, your own witness, bears out that contention. According to him a memo could be inserted in the backup system just as well as one could be deleted.”