The Anonymous Client

car?”
    “In another garage.”
    “How did you manage to get to your car and still keep the suspect under surveillance?”
    “Well, we knew she was parked in a garage, so—”
    Dirkson held up his hand again. “Uh uh. Please, Mr. Fisher. You only know that because of what someone else told you, right? The other detectives. And you can’t testify to that. Just tell us what you did.”
    “Yes, sir. When she left the coffee shop, my partner ran to get our car, while I tailed the defendant.” Fisher looked at Dirkson. “Am I allowed to say why?”
    “As long as you just describe the procedure and don’t give us your conclusions and tell us what you suspected.”
    “Yes, sir. Well, the procedure was I would tail the woman on foot while my partner got the car. That way, in case we had to follow her by car we’d be prepared. In the event she took off by car or taxi before my partner could bring the car around, then I would tail her alone in a taxi, and phone in her location at the first opportunity. My partner, not finding me, would call the office, get the location, and meet me there.”
    “Did that happen in this case?”
    “No, sir. The defendant went straight to a garage and handed in her claim ticket. My partner drove up in our car before she went out.”
    “What happened then?”
    “She got in her car and drove downtown.”
    “To where?”
    “East 3rd Street.”
    “What happened then?”
    “She drove around until she found a parking space.”
    “Did she find one right away?”
    “Actually, it took a little time. We went around the block a few times and made a few loops.”
    “But eventually she found one?”
    “Yes, she did.”
    “And what time was that?”
    “Approximately five twenty-five.”
    “What happened then?”
    “She parked the car, got out, walked directly to 249 East 3rd Street, and went inside.”
    “Did you follow her inside?”
    “No, sir, we did not. We set up surveillance outside the building to pick her up again when she came out.”
    “And did she come out?”
    “Yes, she did.”
    “And when was that?”
    “Approximately five minutes later.”
    “What happened when she came out?”
    “She seemed terribly agitated.”
    “Objection, Your Honor.”
    “Sustained.”
    “Never mind what you thought. What did she do?”
    “She came out the front door. She looked up and down the street. Very quickly, you know. Then she came down the front steps fast, turned, and headed toward her car.”
    “At what speed was she walking?”
    “Fast. Very fast. She was practically running.”
    “Did she do anything else?”
    “Yes, sir. She kept looking back over her shoulder.”
    “What did she do then?”
    “She got in her car and drove back to her house in Glen Cove.”
    “What time did she get there?”
    “About seven o’clock.”
    “What did you do then?”
    “We stayed and kept the house under surveillance.”
    “Until what time?”
    “A little after nine.”
    “Was that the end of your shift?”
    “No.”
    “Then why did you break off surveillance at that time?”
    “At nine o’clock I called in to report. I was instructed to cease the surveillance and—”
    “Objecton to what he was instructed to do,” Fitzpatrick said. Then, noting the look on Judge Graves’s face, he said, “Never mind. Let’s hear it, Your Honor.”
    “Go ahead,” Dirkson said.
    “Yes, sir. I was told to break off surveillance and to report directly to the office.”
    “And prior to that time had you called the office to report that Marilyn Harding had entered the decedent’s building at approximately five-thirty that afternoon?”
    “Yes, I had.”
    “What happened when you got back to your office?”
    “Charles Miltner was there.”
    “That’s your boss?”
    “Yes, sir. He runs the detective agency.”
    “Was it normal for him to be there at that time of night?”
    “No, sir, it wasn’t.”
    “Did he give you any instructions at that time?”
    “Yes, sir, he did.”
    “And after he gave you those instructions, what did you do?”
    “I typed up my reports on the surveillance of Marilyn Harding and delivered them to the police.”
    “Thank you. That’s all.”
    Fitzpatrick stood up and approached the witness. His manner was grim.
    “Who hired you?” he demanded.
    The witness smiled. “Charles Miltner.”
    Fitzpatrick frowned. “You know what I mean. Who hired you to shadow Miss Harding?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “You don’t know?”
    “No, sir. I was