The Innocent Woman

pardon?”
    “In other words, you have no personal knowledge. You merely assume that mistake was not made.”
    “That’s not true.”
    “Oh, you do have personal knowledge?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “Are you telling me you conducted your own investigation into this matter?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “Then I beg your pardon, sergeant, and I stand corrected. Would you mind telling me exactly what you did?”
    “Before I brought the defendant out and confronted her with the closed drawer, I personally conferred with each and every member of the crime scene unit and ascertained that that drawer was indeed shut when we arrived.”
    Steve Winslow smiled. “You did this personally, sergeant?”
    That’s right.”
    “You personally asked each member of the crime scene unit about the drawer?”
    “That’s right.”
    “You asked them if the drawer was shut when they first saw it?”
    “That’s right.”
    “With what result?”
    “All of them said the drawer was shut.”
    “None of them said they shut the drawer?”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “Are you just assuming that, or did you ask specifically if they had shut the drawer?”
    “I asked specifically.”
    Steve Winslow smiled. “Yes, I was sure you had. Correct me if I’m wrong, sergeant, but didn’t you testify that it was absolutely impossible for any member of the crime scene unit to have shut that drawer, because they are trained individuals who would never do that?”
    “Yes, I did. That’s absolutely right.”
    “Then why did you ask them if they had?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “If it was impossible for them to have shut the drawer, then why did you have to ask them if they had?”
    Sergeant Stams opened his mouth. Closed it again. Glared at Winslow.
    “You want to answer that, sergeant?”
    “You can twist my words around any way you like, but the fact is the crime scene unit wouldn’t have done that. You know it and I know it.”
    “You know it?”
    “I certainly do.”
    “But your actions belie your words, sergeant. If you know they couldn’t have done it, why ask them if they did?”
    And when Stams didn’t answer, Steve Winslow said, “No further questions.”

35.
    M ARK T AYLOR LEANED BACK in his desk chair and referred to his notebook. “Okay, here’s the dope. The boyfriend’s a washout. This Larry Cunningham. He’s just like you said. There’s no problem getting him to talk—the guy’s so eager to help, he’s falling’ all over himself. Has all the credibility of a wet sponge. Determined to say he left the restaurant at eight. More so now the doctor’s set it as the probable time of death. My man tried to knock his story down, but it’s no go. The waiters and the cashier in the restaurant don’t remember well enough. As far as they know, they could have left at eight o’clock. They don’t know they did, they don’t know they didn’t. They just don’t remember.
    “Philip Eckstein’s another story.”
    “Who?”
    “The guy he had the meeting with. The corroborating witness.” Taylor shook his head. “Now, there’s a winner. He’s a nerdy little twerp, shifty eyed, defensive. Might as well have I’m lying tattooed on his forehead.”
    “What’s he lying about?”
    “The time of the meeting. Cunningham told him he got there at eight-thirty, and damn it, that’s what he’s going to say. According to Eckstein, Cunningham called him around eight o’clock, said he’d meet him in half an hour. We all know that’s not true. He called him at seven-thirty, made the meeting for eight. You know it, I know it, the D.A. knows it, the jury’s, gonna know it. He’s the type of guy on cross-examination Dirkson can get him to say that the earth was flat.” Taylor shrugged. “Not that he needs to. Your client already told the cops she left the restaurant seven-thirty. So when these guys pull the number, they’re gonna look like they’re auditioning for the Amateur Hour.”
    “I know it, Mark. I wouldn’t put them on the stand if you paid me. What else you got?”
    Taylor leaned back, laced his fingers behind his head and smiled. “I got you a present.”
    Steve frowned. “What?”
    “You told me to check out the music store guy. Oliver Branstein.”
    “You got something?”
    “I’ll say. This goes back about a year ago. F.L. Jewelry, in the back room, got a sink for washing gold plate.”
    “Gold plate?”
    Taylor put up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know the mechanics. Anyway,