William Lashner - Fatal Flaw

“Hailey, though not no more after that man killing her and all.”

“Is Bobo in court today? Did he come to Philadelphia with you?”

“No.”

“So he’s still in Nevada?”

“Don’t know. He could be anywhere. He comes when he wants and goes when he wants. Lately he’s been a going.”

“Now, Bobo does all that traveling in a pretty nice car, doesn’t he? A white Camaro with Nevada plates.”

“That’s right.”

“Bought with Hailey’s money.”

“What he earned taking care of me.”

“How did Hailey afford the lump-sum payment for such an upscale retirement place?”

“She was a lawyer.”

“Yes, but so am I, and I couldn’t afford it, and Ms. Derringer here couldn’t afford it, and Mr. Jefferson here couldn’t afford it. So I’m wondering, how did Hailey afford it?”

“I don’t know. She said she had a case that came through, near drowned her in money.”

“A case? And this case came through when?”

“Six months or so before she died.”

“What kind of case, do you know?”

“Just a case. She said some guy went into a hospital for something minor and ended up like a stalk of celery.”

I turned to look at the jury. They were nodding, they knew the case even if Cutlip didn’t. “And after that money came in,” I continued, “the money from that case, she moved you to Desert Winds?”

“Yep.”

“And before that where were you living?”

“Around.”

“Around where?”

“Motels here or there, around Vegas, whatever I could afford at the time.”

“And Bobo?”

“He was in them motels, too.”

“So you and Bobo knew each other before Desert Winds.”

“That’s right.”

“Nice places, those motels?”

“Hardly. Some had bugs the size of rats, and then there was the rats. And for the prices we paid, they didn’t have no HBO.”

“Is there HBO in Desert Winds?”

“And Cinemax and Showtime.”

“How nice for you that must be. Now, you mentioned in your direct testimony that your niece told you she and Guy Forrest were fighting over money, isn’t that right?”

“That’s what I said, yeah. That’s when I knowed she was in trouble.”

“Did she tell you that the fight was over the money from the case that near drowned her in money?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“The same money that had taken you out of motel land, with its bugs as big as rats and no HBO, and into the lovely, luxurious, Desert Winds.”

“I suppose.”

“And so the thought of Guy taking back that lump-sum payment and sending you and Bobo back down to motel land was pretty terrifying, wasn’t it?”

“I could handle it.”

“Really? Without HBO? Wasn’t Guy Forrest, by complaining about the missing money, putting your whole luxurious existence at risk? Wouldn’t you have done anything to keep from going back to those motels?”

“Mr. Carl, I’m a broken man. I’m stuck in this damn chair, this is my first time out of Nevada in six years, I haven’t been able to keep down a drink in a year and a half. I got something in me that’s chewing me up. It’ll kill me, it will, and damn soon. I’m dying for damn sure, without nothing no one can do about it. My life is over already. What the hell do I care where I die? All I know is the only person in this whole damn world that ever did the least thing nice for me is dead, and I loved her pure, and to tell the truth I’m dying more of lost love than anything else. And nothing can happen to me from here on out, nothing you could ever dream do to me, could be any worse.”

“How about Bobo, could he handle it?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“I’d like to mark this Defense Exhibit Eleven for identification. Do you know what that is?”

“It looks like a traffic ticket of some sort.”

“Objection, Your Honor. Foundation. Relevance.”

The judge took the ticket and examined it carefully for a long moment before frowning. “No, I’m going to allow this,” she said. “I assume you’ll lay the foundation for this in your case, Mr. Carl.”

“The ticketing officer has already been subpoenaed to testify.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“Where is this ticket from, Mr. Cutlip?”

“It says here City of Philadelphia.”

“What’s it for?”

“Looks like speeding.”

“On City Line Avenue, isn’t that right? Could you tell the jury the make and license of the car?”

“A Camaro, white, Nevada plates.”

“And who is it issued against?”

“It’s hard to read the handwriting.”

“Try.”

“Looks like Dwayne Joseph Bohannon.”

“Bobo.”

“Suppose so.”

“What was Bobo doing not six blocks from Hailey Prouix’s house the night before the murder?”

“Don’t know. Ask Bobo.”

“Objection.”

“I’d be delighted to ask him, Mr. Cutlip,” I said over the objection, “but he seems to have disappeared, so I am forced to ask you.”

“Objection, Your Honor.”

“Sustained. The jury will disregard that question and please remember, questions are not evidence. Evidence can come only from the witnesses. Anything more, Mr. Carl?”

“Yes, Your Honor, I’d like to mark four photographs for identification, Defense Exhibits Twelve to Fifteen.”

I gave the first to Cutlip to examine.

“Do you recognize the people in that picture?”

“Where’d you get this?”

“Just answer my question. Do you recognize the people in that photograph?”

“That’s my sister and her husband and them two girls.”

“They look pretty happy there don’t they, a happy family?”

“Sure they was. Why not?”

“How old were the girls there?”

“Seven maybe. Tommy died when they was eight.”

“Tommy Prouix?”

“That’s right.”

“Where was he from, this Tommy Prouix?”

“New Orleans. I met him down there in a bar. He was a wild-eyed Cajun looking for work. Told him there was lumber mills up West Virginia way that was hiring. He drove up, stayed with my sister till he settled, and then settled down with her.”

“And this next picture, can you tell us what that is?”

“That’s me and my sister and the girls.”

“When was this taken?”

“After he was kilt, when I was forced to move in.”

“You were forced to move in?”

“They needed something in that house, they needed a man. The girls had that Cajun blood in them and they was running wild, and Debra, my sister, she never really recovered from Tommy’s dying.”

“And she asked you to come back.”

“I was traveling like before when I heard Tommy was dead. I came for the funeral, saw what was happening, and stayed. Them girls, they needed a firm hand, and so I did what I could. I found a job that paid decent in a local slaughterhouse and I cut down on my drinking so they’d have money for clothes and such.”

“And you provided the discipline they needed.”

“Yes I did.”

“The firm hand.”

“That’s what they needed. I know I needed it, and my daddy never flinched. Never once. Them girls needed it, too, especially Hailey.”

“And like your daddy, you never flinched.”

“No, sir.”

“And so you laid your hands on them.”

“When I had to. Never so it hurt, just so they’d know what they done was wrong.”

“The girls, do they look happy in that picture?”

“It’s hard to tell. I suppose they was happy enough. They was eating regularly, I know that.”

“Let me show you another photograph.”

“Where did you find these pictures? Where did you find that letter?”

“The same place, Mr. Cutlip, both in the same place. Do you recognize the two girls in that photograph?”