Gail Bowen - The Endless Knot

As Zack manoeuvred his chair towards the witness box, my pulse spiked. He had told me once that if he’d had the lousy luck to be born in Spain, he would have been up shit creek because the continental European legal system didn’t permit cross-examination. That day, Zack wasn’t the one with the lousy luck. From the moment Zack gave Howard a sympathetic half-smile and bade him good morning, Howard was doomed.

“How tall are you, Mr. Dowhanuik?”

The question came out of left field, and Howard looked confused. “A little over six feet,” he said finally.

“You just told us that you happened to be gazing over your fence when you saw Mr. Parker enter Ms. Morrissey’s yard. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“But in his testimony, Constable Gerein said that the fence that separates your property from Ms. Morrissey’s is six and a half feet tall. To see what you described in your testimony, you must have been standing on tippytoe, Mr. Dowhanuik.”

There was a burst of nervous laughter in the courtroom. When Howard remained mute, Zack wheeled closer. “Were you standing on your tippytoes, Mr. Dowhanuik? That’s a question.”

“No,” Howard said.

Zack’s face wrinkled in exasperation. “Then how did you see what was going on?”

“I … there was a little stepladder against the fence.”

“A little stepladder – that’s right. Constable Gerein noted that too. So you heard a man’s voice, picked up your little stepladder, and moved it to the fence so you could see what was going on. Is that correct?”

Howard flushed crimson. “No, I was standing there.”

“On your little stepladder?”

“Yes.”

Zack made a moue of disgust. “Why ever would you be doing that?”

“I was watching.”

“You were watching Ms. Morrissey?”

Howard nodded.

“The court clerk needs your answer in words, Mr. Dowhanuik.”

“Yes,” Howard said. “I was watching Ms. Morrissey.”

“Was this the first time you spied on Ms. Morrissey when she was in the privacy of her yard?”

Howard’s face was an unhealthy crimson. “Not the first time, no. I’d been watching her for a week. Since the book was excerpted in the paper.”

“What are you, some kind of peeping Tom?”

Garth exploded from his seat. “Objection. Objection, m’Lord. Objection.” Rat-a-tat-tat.

Arthur Harney winced at Garth’s volley, but he sustained the objection.

“I’ll try again,” Zack said agreeably. “Mr. Dowhanuik, tell me why you were standing on a stepladder spying on your neighbour.”

Howard’s fire might have been dampened, but there was still a spark. “I wanted her to know that I was watching her.”

“Were you attempting to intimidate her?”

“I wanted to remind her that I was there.”

“You wanted to remind her that you were there?” Zack repeated the explanation mockingly. “After you moved next door to her, you and she spent many intimate hours in each other’s company. Ms. Morrissey’s a well-known journalist. Did she need you standing on your little stepladder peering in on her to remind her that you were her neighbour?”

“She needed to know how it felt to have her privacy violated,” Howard said defiantly. “She needed to know what it had been like for Charlie and me.”

“So you were angry at her for what she’d written about your family in her book.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you didn’t go to her aid after she was shot?”

Howard’s head dropped. “I called 911,” he muttered.

“But after you called 911, you didn’t go to Ms. Morrissey to ascertain how badly she’d been wounded or to reassure her, did you?”

“No.”

“You weren’t in any danger, Mr. Dowhanuik. The assailant had fled the scene. You’ve testified to that. But instead of doing what 99 per cent of the people in this courtroom would have done, you left Ms. Morrissey out there bleeding and alone and you … What did you do after you called 911?”

Howard seemed confused. “I called my son,” he mumbled.

Zack sighed. “Now again, that doesn’t strike me as the course of action 99 per cent of us in this room would have followed. Why did you call Charlie?”

The casual use of Charlie’s name hit a nerve. For the first time, Howard seemed to realize that the defence knew more about his actions that afternoon than Garth Severight had led him to believe.

Zack withheld his next blow, but he made certain Howard knew it was coming. “I asked you a question, Mr. Dowhanuik,” he said. “The jury has heard your son’s version of what happened after he arrived at your condominium. What’s your version?”

“Charlie advised me.”

“Really. Now that is interesting. You hadn’t committed a crime. Unless we count the peeping Tom incident.” Zack waved his hand towards the Crown’s table. “I know. I know. I withdraw the characterization of the witness. But, Mr. Dowhanuik, this is where I’m having a problem following your thought processes. I know you were angry at Ms. Morrissey, but she’d been shot and you had witnessed the shooting. Why would you just hop off your ladder and leave Ms. Morrissey out in her yard alone and bleeding while you called your son for advice?”

“Because I was drunk,” Howard said.

“Ah,” Zack said with a Cheshire smile. “Finally, we’ve arrived at the crux of the matter. You were drunk. Were you so drunk, you couldn’t navigate the distance between your house and Ms. Morrissey’s? Officer Gerein paced off the path between where you were standing on your little ladder and the spot where Ms. Morrissey was enjoying her wine. He testified it was less than ten metres. That’s not much of a walk. It was still early – 4:30 in the afternoon. How many drinks had you had?”

“I don’t know,” Howard said. “It had been a difficult time.”

“You mean the time since you became aware of what Ms. Morrissey had written about Charlie in your book.”

“Yes.”

“The fact that you’d played the role of Deep Throat for her must have made the situation even more depressing.” Zack wheeled closer to the witness box. “And you were already depressed, weren’t you? You were using the prescription drug Paxil?”

“Yes.”

“And …” Zack looked at his notes. “Your drug regimen also includes prescriptions for high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and something else …” Zack squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. “Chronic back pain – Charlie said you were also being treated for chronic back pain.”

Garth Severight rose to protest Charlie’s information as hearsay, and Mr. Justice Harney upheld his objection. It didn’t matter. The knockout punch had been delivered. Howard knew that his son had revealed everything to the defence. Bruised, battered, and desperate, Howard was a fighter on the ropes, but Zack kept pummelling. “That’s quite the chemical stew, Mr. Dowhanuik. I’m certain your doctor didn’t suggest that you add alcohol to the mix.”

“No, my doctor told me not to drink.”

“And still you drank.”

“I did.”

“How many drinks have you had today, Mr. Dowhanuik?”

“I don’t know.”

“More than three?”

“Yes.”

“Five? Six?”

“I don’t measure.”

“Do you have a flask of liquor with you right now?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve taken all your medications?”

“Yes.” Zack turned his chair so that his back was to Howard. “We’ve been pretty close to each other for the past twenty minutes. Do I wear eyeglasses?”

“I didn’t notice.”

Zack turned, faced Howard, and adjusted the black wire-framed glasses he’d worn throughout the cross-examination. “Let’s try again, Mr. Dowhanuik. What colour was the dress Ms. Morrissey was wearing on May 16?”