The Anonymous Client

defense as associate counsel for Marilyn Harding. He is seated at the defense table and will be taking part in the trial.”
    The jurors looked at each other. Steve Winslow grinned. He knew that despite Judge Graves admonition, each and every juror was wondering just what the hell had gone on since court had adjourned yesterday afternoon.
    While this was going on, Douglas Kemper entered the courtroom and took the stand. He did not make a good impression. His manner was furtive and sheepish. He carefully avoided looking at Marilyn Harding.
    Judge Graves, though aware that Kemper’s examination was through, still went through the charade. “Mr. Kemper, I must remind you that you are still under oath. Mr. Dirkson, you may proceed.”
    Dirkson stood up. “Thank you, Your Honor. I have no further questions of the witness.”
    Graves nodded. “Very well. Mr. Fitzpatrick?”
    Fitzpatrick stood up. “No questions, Your Honor.”
    Graves nodded. “The witness is excused.”
    Kemper got up and left the stand.
    The jurors, who had waited all day to see only that, found it funny. Some began to giggle.
    Judge Graves gave them a few minutes to blow off steam, then banged the gavel. When the court was quiet, he said, “Mr. Dirkson. Call your next witness.”
    Dirkson stood up. He looked at the jury. Then at the defense table. Then back up at the judge. His smile was rather smug. “The People rest, Your Honor.”

36.
    F ITZPATRICK HEAVED HIS BULK AROUND the small conference room in the courthouse like an angry whale.
    “Son of a bitch!” he said. “Son of a fucking bitch!” He poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down. “I don’t need this,” he said. “My specialty is corporate law. I’ve got myself some juicy plum clients. Chief among them, Phillip Harding. He dies, and I inherit his daughter. She inherits a murder. Suddenly I’m in court. But even then I’m all right, because I’ve got a genuine, first-class, made-to-order red herring, scapegoat, fall guy, to take the rap. Only he turns out to be the attorney for my client’s lover, and suddenly I’m fucked. Suddenly I’m in court with a smug-ass district attorney who just wants to play games with me. ‘Your Honor, I rest my case.’ Jesus Christ, he hasn’t made a case. What the hell’s he doing resting now?”
    “It’s good move,” Steve said. “If we don’t put on a case, he’s given the jury enough to convict. If we do put on a case, he’s still got a whole bunch of witnesses left for rebuttal.”
    Fitzpatrick threw up his hands. “What case? We have no case. You talked to Marilyn Harding. You know what she’s like. We don’t dare put her on the stand.”
    “No argument there.”
    “It’s a no-win situation. If we don’t put her on the stand, she’s a dead duck. If we do put her on the stand, Dirkson will tear her apart.”
    “All right,” Steve said. “What’s your plan?”
    Fitzpatrick stared at him. “Plan? What plan?”
    “All right. What’s Dirkson plan?”
    “What you just said. It depends what we do. If we don’t put on any defense, we’ve lost. If we put Marilyn on the stand, he’ll tear her apart.” Fitzpatrick shrugged. “If we try to make a case without putting her on the stand, it’s like you said. He’s got a whole bunch of witnesses saved up for rebuttal.”
    “Right. And what’s he gonna hit us with?”
    “Everything.”
    “Yeah, but pick one. What’s he gonna hit us with?”
    Fitzpatrick pursed his lips. “Best guess, the Phillip Harding murder. He alluded to it in his opening statement, hasn’t mentioned it since. I’d imagine if we make any showing at all, if we manage to swing the sympathy of the jury in the least, he’ll come back at us with that. He’ll bring in the Phillip Harding murder and try to poison the minds of the jurors with the thought that Marilyn is a habitual killer.
    “Yeah,” Steve said. “That’s what I think too. And if he does, what are you going to do?”
    Fitzpatrick looked at him in surprise. “Fight it, of course. Try to keep it out of the record. Once Dirkson gets that in the minds of the jurors, we’re sunk.”
    “Right,” Steve said. “And what do you think Dirkson expects you to do?”
    Fitzpatrick frowned. “What is this, twenty fucking questions? You wanna make a point, make it. Frankly, your Socratic method’s getting to be a pain in the ass.”
    “All right. Sorry. Look, we agree Dirkson’s going to try to bring in the Phillip Harding