The Baxter Trust

testify.”
    “But—”
    “Shhh. There’s nothing we can do. Just take it easy. It’s all right. If he loves you as much as you think he does, he’s not going to hurt you.”
    “Just what do you mean by that?”
    “Shhh.”
    Heads turned as John Dutton walked to the stand. This was going to be delicious. The lover. The married man. The party to the late-night assignations testified to by Mrs. Rosenthal. And the thing was, he looked the part, too. Lean, tall, tanned, blond, and with that pretty-boy profile, John Dutton looked as if he might have just stepped off the screen of one of those beach-party movies. His entrance drew excited whispers from the crowd. This was going to be great.
    “Your name?” Dirkson said.
    “John Dutton “
    “Occupation?”
    “Stockbroker.”
    “Mr. Dutton, are you acquainted with the defendant, Sheila Benton?”
    “I am.”
    “You are what might colloquially be called her boyfriend?”
    John Dutton gave Dirkson what could only be considered a condescending smile. “I’m in love with her, if that’s what you mean.”
    “It will do. Mr. Dutton, are you married?”
    “Yes, I am. I am in the process of getting a divorce. When it is completed, I intend to marry Sheila.”
    Dirkson smiled and nodded. “Thank you very much. Let me ask you this—did you know the decedent, Robert Greely?”
    John Dutton appeared to wilt on the witness stand. Sheila let out a small gasp and grabbed Steve’s arm. A murmur ran through the courtroom.
    Dirkson raised his voice. “Did you hear the question, Mr. Dutton? I’ll repeat it. Did you know the decedent, Robert Greely?”
    Dutton wet his lips. “I had met him, yes.”
    There was a reaction from everyone in the courtroom except Dirkson, who obviously had expected the answer.
    “Under what circumstances, Mr. Dutton?”
    “At a card game.”
    “Did you meet him on more than one occasion?”
    “Yes, I did.”
    “When was the first time you met him?”
    “I can’t remember.”
    “About six months ago?”
    “I suppose so, yes.”
    “And you have seen him several times since then?”
    “I don’t know what you mean by several.”
    “You tell me. How many times have you seen him?”
    Dutton wet his lips again. “I got invited to a card game. It was a weekly card game. I began playing in it. Greely was a regular in the game. So I saw him on those occasions.”
    “A weekly game?”
    “Yes.”
    “So you’re saying you saw the decedent once a week?”
    “On those weeks we were both in the game. I didn’t go every week. He didn’t go every week. When I went, he was often there.”
    “Did you ever see him outside of the game?”
    “No.”
    “Never?”
    “Never. Well, I might have walked out at the same time when the game broke up, but other than that, no.”
    “But you did see him at the games?”
    “Yes.”
    “And the first time was approximately six months ago?”
    “Yes.”
    “Mr. Dutton, an examination of your bank account reveals that during the last six months you have withdrawn over seven thousand dollars in cash over and above your usual expenditures. Is that true?”
    The air in the courtroom suddenly became electric with anticipation. Harry Dirkson did nothing to spoil the effect. He just stood there, staring evenly at the witness, waiting for the answer.
    John Dutton squirmed on the stand. “I ... I would have to consult my records.”
    “I have subpoenaed the records from your bank. I have them right here, if you’d wish to examine them.”
    Dutton rubbed his forehead. “No. That won’t be necessary. I withdrew the money.”
    “And what did you do with that money, Mr. Dutton?”
    Sheila grabbed Steve’s arm. “Stop him!” she said.
    There was no time for Steve to weigh the pros and cons of objecting at this point. He rose to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. No proper foundation has been laid.”
    Judge Crandell looked from the defense table back to the witness. Crandell was only human. The look on Dutton’s face decided the point.
    “Objection overruled. Witness will answer the question.”
    John Dutton looked around the courtroom. He looked trapped. Desperate. Almost as if he were going to cry.
    He looked back at Dirkson. “I refuse to answer on the grounds that it might incriminate me.”
    The court was in an uproar. Judge Crandell banged the gavel furiously, but nothing was going to stop the stampede of reporters who were charging for the