The Anonymous Client

arrived.”
    “And turned him over to them?”
    “That is correct.”
    “And who was the officer to whom you turned him over?”
    “Sergeant Stams.”
    “You held this Mr. Winslow in the decedent’s apartment until homicide arrived?”
    “Not in that apartment, no. My partner stayed there. I held him in custody in the landlady’s apartment downstairs.”
    “Until such time as you turned him over to Sergeant Stams?”
    “Actually, until Sergeant Stams was finished with him and he was released.”
    “Until he was released?” Fitzpatrick managed to convey the impression that Sullivan had just confessed to the most heinous of crimes. “You’re telling me this man found at the scene of the crime was released?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “He was not taken to police headquarters?”
    “No, sir.”
    “He was questioned at the scene of the crime?”
    “By Sergeant Stams, yes.”
    “And you were present for the questioning.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Did you have any other dealings with this gentleman before he was released?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “And what were those dealings?”
    “I searched him.”
    “You searched him?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “For what?”
    Sullivan shrugged. “For whatever I might find.”
    “At who’s request did you search him?”
    Sullivan hesitated.
    “Well?”
    “Well, actually, I searched him twice.”
    Fitzpatrick stared at him. “Twice?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why did you search him twice?”
    Sullivan shifted his position on the witness stand. “Well, you see, he asked to be searched.”
    “Who did?”
    “Steve Winslow.”
    “You mean the man himself asked to be searched?”
    “That’s right.”
    “And so you accommodated him?”
    “Well, it seemed a good idea at the time.”
    “You wanted to see if he had any evidence on him that might incriminate him in this murder?”
    “Objection. Argumentative.”
    “Sustained.”
    “This was before Sergeant Stams arrived?”
    “That is correct.”
    “And then you searched him a second time?”
    “That’s right.”
    “When was that?”
    “After Sergeant Stams arrived.”
    “And had questioned the suspect?”
    “Object to the word ‘suspect,’ Your Honor,” Dirkson snapped.
    “Sustained. Rephrase the question.”
    Fitzpatrick smiled ironically. “And this was after Sergeant Stams had questioned the gentleman?”
    “That’s right.”
    “And who suggested you search him a second time?”
    “Sergeant Stams.”
    “And on these two occasions when you searched the, uh, gentleman, did you find anything you considered significant?”
    “No, I did not.”
    “And it was after the second search that you let the gentleman go?”
    “That’s right.”
    “And, to the best of your knowledge, this gentleman, Steve Winslow, has never been indicted on any charges in this matter?”
    “Objection, Your Honor. Assuming facts not in evidence, and calling for a conclusion on the part of the witness.”
    “It is a simple yes or no question, Your Honor, asking for the witness’s personal knowledge.”
    “Objection overruled.”
    “No. As far as I know he has not.”
    “I see,” Fitzpatrick said, nodding gravely to the jury. “No further questions.”
    As he sat down, several of the jurors were looking at each other with puzzled expressions.
    In the back of the courtroom, Steve Winslow shifted in his seat. Well, at least that answered his question. Fitzpatrick might not be the best of attorneys. He might not be that bright, and his methods might be slightly heavy-handed. But there was no question what his courtroom strategy was going to be.
    Fitzpatrick was going to try to pin the murder on him.

27.
    “L ET’S LOOK AT THE CASE AGAINST me.”
    Mark Taylor’s grin seemed rather forced. “You’re serious about this?”
    They were in Mark Taylor’s office. It was eight in the evening. Steve Winslow had just given Taylor a rundown of the day in court. After the testimony of Frank Sullivan, the rest of the day had been rather tame. Sanford Hill, called to the stand, had gone over much of the same ground Sullivan had. The medical examiner had fixed the time of death between five-fifteen and five forty-five in the afternoon, and refused to budge, despite a grueling cross-examination by Fitzpatrick. The landlady, Miss Dobson, had testified to identifying the body as that of the man who had rented an apartment from her under the name of David C. Bradshaw. And Special Agent Serota of the FBI had testified to matching the