The Anonymous Client

Bradshaw, by stabbing him with a knife. The events leading up to this murder are simple and straightforward, and we shall lay them out for you.
    “We hold no brief for the decedent. He was a blackmailer and an extortionist, and he had a prison record. He made his living preying on people, and his end was probably the inevitable consequence of his existence. But none of that matters, and the judge will instruct you that you must give it no weight. Donald Blake may have been a despicable human being, but he was a human being, and every human being’s life is sacred, and no person has the right to take it.”
    Fitzpatrick was on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Is this an opening statement or a closing argument?”
    Dirkson, nettled, whirled to glare at the defense attorney. “Your Honor—” Dirkson began.
    Judge Randell Graves banged the gavel. The thin, reedy, elderly judge had a reputation for brooking no nonsense in his courtroom. “Gentlemen,” he snapped. “Approach the sidebar.”
    Graves stepped down from his bench, and the two lawyers and the court reporter joined him at the sidebar. They proceeded to confer in low tones, out of earshot of the jury.
    In the back row of the court, Tracy Garvin grabbed Steve Winslow’s arm. “What’s going on?”
    “A sidebar,” he told her.
    “I know it’s a sidebar,” Tracy said impatiently. “I’ve been in court before. What’s the point of law?”
    “Virtually none,” Steve said. “Fitzpatrick’s just trying to needle him. Interrupt the opening argument, break the flow, get him pissed off.”
    “Has he got a point?”
    “Technically, yes. Dirkson shouldn’t be arguing the case at this time. But all lawyers do, it’s really splitting hairs, and Dirkson’s pretty pissed off at Fitzpatrick for calling him on it.”
    “So it’s a good move on Fitzpatrick’s part?”
    Steve shook his head. “No, it’s a bad one.”
    “Why? It throws Dirkson off, doesn’t it?”
    “A little. But it irritates the judge. It’s a hollow tactic, and Judge Graves isn’t going to like it. Judges don’t like to put up with a lot of over technical crap. They like to keep the trial moving along. Fitzpatrick may score a point now, but it’s going to cost him later on.”
    The lawyers had resumed their positions. Judge Graves addressed the jury.
    “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. As I have instructed you, during the course of the trial there will be many occasions upon which we depart to the sidebar to discuss various objections. You should give those discussions no weight, and you should not speculate on what goes on in those discussions.
    “Now, I would like to instruct you that we are not arguing the case at this time. The prosecutor is merely outlining what he intends to prove. That is all that should concern you.
    Dirkson rose. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. To resume, we expect to prove that Marilyn Harding killed Donald Blake, alias David C. Bradshaw. The motive for this murder is simple and straightforward. We expect to prove that Donald Blake was a blackmailer, that he was blackmailing Marilyn Harding. We expect to prove that Marilyn Harding paid Donald Blake the sum of ten thousand dollars. We expect to prove that Donald Blake had evidence that Marilyn Harding had poisoned her father, Phillip Harding, and—”
    Fitzpatrick jumped to his feet. “Objection!” he roared. “Objection, Your Honor! The prosecutor is attempting to prejudice the jury by introducing evidence of a previous crime. I move for a mistrial.”
    Dirkson smiled. “I offer that evidence only as proof of motive, Your Honor.”
    “May I have a sidebar, Your Honor?” Fitzpatrick demanded, already heading in that direction.
    Graves banged the gavel. “Attorney, stand back. We’ll do this in open court. Bailiff, please show the jurors to the jury room. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am going to excuse you while we discuss this motion. Please follow the bailiff to the jury room.”
    As the jury filed out, Dirkson’s grin was smug.
    “Big victory for Dirkson,” Steve said.
    “What?”
    “Sidebar denied. I told you it would cost him. Now we’re going to hear the argument in open court.”
    “But the jury won’t hear it.”
    “No, but we will, and so will the media. And the idea that cases aren’t tried in the papers is bullshit. And it doesn’t even matter which way Graves rules. Phillip Harding’s murder is going to make the front page.”
    When the jurors had