The Anonymous Client

instructed to place Miss Harding under surveillance. I was not told who the client was in the case.”
    “Wait a minute. Don’t you turn in time sheets to get paid?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “And when you put in for work, don’t you have to designate on your time sheets what case the hours were for?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “So what name did you designate those hours to on your time sheet?”
    “Marilyn Harding.”
    “Really? I thought the time sheets usually bore the name of the client who was to be billed.”
    “They usually do.”
    “But in this case the name on your time sheet was Marilyn Harding?”
    “That’s right.”
    Fitzpatrick frowned and thought a moment. “You had Marilyn Harding under surveillance on the afternoon of Wednesday the ninth?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Was that the only time you’d had Marilyn Harding under surveillance?”
    “No, sir.”
    “It wasn’t?”
    “No, sir.”
    “When was the first time?”
    “The afternoon of Tuesday the eighth.”
    “From when till when?”
    “From four in the afternoon till midnight.”
    Fitzpatrick hesitated, wondering if he wanted to open up that can of worms. On reflection, he considered there was nothing the witness could say that could damage his client any more than he already had. So he decided to go for it.
    “Could you tell us what happened on that occasion?”
    “Yes, sir. We picked up the witness in midtown Manhattan, followed her while she went out to dinner in New Jersey, and then followed her home.”
    “She didn’t go near the decedent’s apartment?”
    “Not while we were on duty, no.”
    “You reported this surveillance to the police?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Yet there’s nothing in the report of that day’s surveillance that you considered significant?”
    The witness hesitated. “Actually, there was.”
    “Oh? And what was that?”
    “At the time, the defendant, Marilyn Harding, was also being followed by detectives from another agency.”
    Fitzpatrick stared at him. “What?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Do you know who those detectives were?”
    “Yes, sir. They were operatives from the Taylor Detective Agency.”
    “And they tailed Miss Harding for how long?”
    “As long as we did.”
    “All the way back to Glen Cove?”
    “That is correct.”
    “Anything else that you considered significant?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “What is that?”
    “The defendant had dinner on the Binghamton. That’s an old ferry boat that’s been converted into a restaurant located in New Jersey. She ate dinner with her stepsister and her stepsister’s husband. During the course of dinner I also noted the presence of Mark Taylor, the head of the Taylor Detective Agency.”
    “Is that right? He joined his operatives there?”
    “He didn’t actually join them. I believe he spoke to one of them at one point. He arrived with another man and had dinner.”
    “Is that so? And did you learn the identity of the other man?”
    “Not at the time.”
    “But subsequently, you learned it?”
    “Yes, I did.”
    “And who was he?”
    “An attorney by the name of Steve Winslow.”
    A grin slowly spread over Fitzpatrick’s face. “Did you say Steve Winslow?”
    “That’s right.”
    “That’s the man who came to the restaurant in the company of Mark Taylor, the head of the Taylor Detective Agency, the agency whose operatives were keeping my client under surveillance?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Taylor and Steve Winslow dined there together at the same time as my client?”
    “That’s right.”
    “And is this the same Steve Winslow who was discovered by the police in the apartment of the victim, Donald Blake?”
    “Objection,” Dirkson said.
    “Sustained.”
    Fitzpatrick was grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you very much,” he said. “No further questions.”
    In the back of the courtroom, Steve Winslow nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said. “I knew that was gonna be fun.”

29.
    T HE AFTERNOON SESSION BEGAN ON much the same theme. Sergeant Stams, called to the stand, testified to finding ten thousand dollars in thousand dollar bills in a money belt on the body of the decedent, and to finding an additional ten thousand dollars in thousand dollar bills secreted in a hollow behind a fire hose in the upstairs hallway.
    Fitzpatrick had a field day on cross-examination. He pounced on the fact that Sergeant Stams had interrogated and searched Steve Winslow at the scene of the crime, and he played it for all it was