Ed McBain - Kiss

"Which would have placed you there at a quarter to nine, ten to nine, around that time.”

"Yes, it was around that time.”

"What time did you leave Miss Franceschi?”

"Around twenty after nine.”

"Mr. Assanti, do you have any knowledge of a bakery shop at 7834 Harrison, a shop called AandL Bakery, are you familiar with this shop?”

"I've seen it, yes. It's out of business now.”

"Would you know if it was still in business on the night of July seventeenth last year?”

"It was.”

"After you left Miss Franceschi, did you pass this shop on your way home?”

"I did.”

“What time was this, do you recall?”

"It was about nine-thirty, give or take a few minutes.”

"Mr. Assanti, can you tell us what happened as you were walking home?”

"I heard shots.”

"Where?”

"I didn't know where at first. I thought it was from the liquor store.”

"What liquor store?”

"There's a liquor store next door to the bakery.”

"How many shots were there?”

"Three. One right after the other.”

"Were these shots, in fact, coming from the liquor store?”

"No.”

"Where were they coming from?”

"The bakery.”

"Tell us what happened next.”

"Two guys came running out of the bakery.”

"Describe them.”

"They were both black. Very big. Both wearing jeans and black T-shirts.”

"Were they armed?”

"One of them had a gun.”

"And you say they came running out of the bakery shop ...”

"Yes, and almost knocked over a man who was coming out of the liquor store.”

"So you heard these three shots ...”

"Yes.”

“One right after the other.”

"Yes.”

"In rapid succession, would you ...?was "Your Honor, he's putting words into the witness's mouth.”

"Sustained.”

"You heard these three shots one after the other, and you saw two men come running out of the bakery shop ...”

"Yes.”

"And one of them was carrying a gun.”

"Yes.”

"Did you get a look at the gun?”

"I did.”

"Do you know what kind of gun it was?”

"No, I don't know anything about guns.”

Lowell walked to the prosecutor's table, picked up a tagged pistol, and carried it back to the witness stand. "Mr. Assanti," he said, "I show you a nine-millimeter assault pistol, and ask if the gun you saw on the night of July seventeenth looked like ...”

"Objection!”

Addison was on his feet again, a chiding smile on his bearded face, as if he were saying that surely Lowell knew better than even to begin posing such a question. Shaking his head in reprimand, he said, "Your Honor, is the district attorney asking whether Mr.

Assanti saw this particular pistol on the night of July seventeenth ...”

"My question ...”

"Let him finish, please, Mr. Lowell.”

"Thank you, or a pistol merely like this one,”

Addison said. "Because if we are discussing this particular gun, which the district attorney now ...”

"We are discussing this particular gun,”

Lowell said, "but only as ...”

"Then of course the question becomes of paramount importance.”

"I am asking ... if I have a chance to get the question out," Lowell said in a sly aside to the jury, "whether a pistol like this one was seen by Mr. Assanti ...”

"Then, Your Honor ...”

"Approach the bench, please.”

The two attorneys stepped up to the bench.

Di Pasco looked down at them.

"I don't like this kind of showboating," he said to Addison.

"Your Honor, surely ...”

"Surely me not," Di Pasco said. "You heard Mr. Lowell's question as well as I did.

Now if you're going to keep jumping up every three minutes with objections designed to confuse the jury ...”

"Perhaps I myself was confused, Your Honor.”

"Yes, perhaps you were.”

"In which case, I apologize for taking up the Court's valuable time.”

"Spare me," Di Pasco said, and rolled his eyes.

Addison went back to the defense table, a slight, small smile hidden in his beard.

Lowell went back to the witness chair.

"Mr. Assanti," he said, "did the gun you saw on the night of July seventeenth look like this gun?”

"Yes, it did.”

"Same size and shape ...”

"Yes.”

"Same sight and trigger guard ...”

"Yes.”

"Same muzzle ...”

"Yes.”

"Same grip ...”

"Yes.”

"In fact, a gun that looked exactly like this gun, isn't that so?”

"Yes.”

"Your Honor," Lowell said, "I would like this pistol marked and moved into evidence subject to connection by a subsequent witness.”

"So moved," Di Pasco said.

Lowell seemed mildly surprised that Addison hadn't objected. He hesitated a moment before asking his next question. Or perhaps that was only for dramatic effect.

"Mr. Assanti," he said, "can you please tell us which of the men was carrying a gun that looked like this one?”

"The one called Sonny.”

"How do you know what he was called?”

"The other one called him Sonny.”

"When was this?”

"When they were running by me.”

"They came running out of the bakery shop ...”

"Yes.”

"And almost knocked over a man coming out of the liquor store ...”

"Yes.”

"By the way, would you recognize this man if you saw him again?”

"I think so, yes.”

"And then they ran by you, is that it?”

"Yes.”

"Tell me what you heard as they came running by.”

"The other man ... not Sonny, the one with him ... yelled, `Come on, Sonny, move it.`”

"Meaning what?”

"Objection.”

"Sustained.”

"Did you get a look at both of these men?”

"I did.”

"The one carrying the gun?”

"Yes.”

"You got a look at him?”

"Yes.”

"Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

"I would.”

"I ask you to look around this courtroom and tell me if you see the man who was carrying a gun exactly like this one on the night of July seventeenth last year.”

"I do.”

"Would you point him out to us, please?”

"He's there. He's sitting right there.”

"Is he sitting at the defense table?”

"Yes.”

"Is he the black man sitting next to Mr.

Addison?”

"He is.”

"Let the record show that the witness is pointing to Mr. Samson Wilbur Cole, also known as ...”

"Objection.”

"His name is noted as such on the indictment, Your Honor. Samson Wilbur Cole, astksta Sonny Cole. Which, of course, means `also known as Sonny Cole.`”

"Overruled. Proceed, Mr. Lowell.”

"I have no further questions.”

He didn't much enjoy being with her.

She didn't say a lot, she wasn't a talkative woman, but she did manage to express-with a rolling of the eyes, or a - heavy sigh, or an almost imperceptible shake of the head-enormous impatience whenever he revealed his ignorance of the city. Hesitate before crossing a street or turning a corner, show the slightest puzzlement about which way was east or west or north or south, confuse the subway or bus lines, head off uptown when he'd meant to go downtown, and her face would flash the now-familiar look that told him he was just a hick from Second City, U.S.A., fumbling his way through More-Every-That-Rather-O-People-O-Like-I-So!

That Tuesday-this was already the eighth of January, the new year seemed to be flashing by -he told the doorman downstairs that he was here, and the doorman buzzed up and said, "Mr.

Darrow's here, madam," and her voice came over the speaker, "I'll be right down, George." Didn't ask him to come up.

Well, why should she? He was hired help.

He waited in the ornate marble lobby.

Chatted with the doorman about the weather. The temperature outside this morning was twelve degrees Fahrenheit. He'd read USA Today while he was having breakfast in the luncheonette around the corner from his building.