The Innocent Woman

Street?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Would that be in the defendant’s neighborhood?”
    “Yes, it would.”
    “Where does she live?”
    “On 107th.”
    “Did you pick her up there to go to the restaurant?”
    “Yes, I did.”
    “What time was that?”
    “Sometime between six-thirty and seven o’clock.”
    “So you went to this restaurant, the Abbey Pub, and had dinner?”
    “That’s right.”
    “What did you talk about?”
    Larry Cunningham looked over at Steve Winslow, expecting an objection. When none came, he looked up at the judge. “Isn’t that hearsay, Your Honor?”
    “What a third party said is hearsay. What the defendant said is an admission against interest.”
    “You mean I have to answer?”
    “Yes, you do.”
    Cunningham took a breath. “We discussed the trial.”
    “That would be the case in which the defendant was tried for petty theft?”
    “That’s right.”
    “That case took place that very afternoon, didn’t it?”
    “Objection. Calls for a conclusion on the part of the witness.”
    “Nonsense. How is that a conclusion, Your Honor?”
    “Was the witness there ?” Steve said.
    “The objection is sustained. Rephrase your question.”
    “Did the defendant tell you when the trial took place?”
    “Yes, she did.”
    “And when was that?”
    “That afternoon.”
    Dirkson looked at the jurors, as if to say, there you are. He turned back to the witness. “And what else did she tell you about the case?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “About the verdict, for instance. Did she tell you how it made her feel?”
    “It made her feel great, of course. She was found innocent.”
    “Yes, but is that all?” Dirkson said.
    Cunningham frowned. “All?”
    “Didn’t she say anything else? About how the verdict wasn’t enough?”
    “Wasn’t enough? What more could it be? There’s innocent and there’s guilty. She was found innocent.”
    “Yes, I know,” Dirkson said. “What I mean is, did she say anything along the lines of how being found innocent wasn’t enough? That Frank Fletcher should pay for what he’d done?”
    “As a matter of fact,” Cunningham said, “I believe she did mention her attorney had suggested the possibility of a lawsuit.”
    “That’s not what I mean,” Dirkson said, “and you know it. I’m talking about threats of physical violence directed toward the person of the decedent, Frank Fletcher. Did the defendant make any such threats?”
    “Absolutely not,” Cunningham said. “Amy would never do anything of the sort.”
    “Is that so?” Dirkson said. “Do you mean to tell me she never once said anything like, I could just kill him, or, he should get what’s coming to him, or, a man like that doesn’t deserve to live?”
    “Absolutely not.”
    Dirkson glared at the witness a moment, then turned to the judge. “Sidebar, Your Honor.”
    When the judge and attorneys had gathered at the sidebar and the court reporter had set up his machine, Dirkson said, “Your Honor, this witness is lying. I have it on good authority that the answers he has just given constitute perjury. He is the boyfriend of the defendant, and he will clearly do anything to save her. I did not realize that went so far as to include committing a crime.”
    Judge Wylie frowned at the district attorney. “Just exactly what do you expect me to do about it?”
    “You can give me some latitude in my questioning. I called this man as my witness, and I’m bound by his testimony. He’s committed perjury, and now I’m in the position of having to impeach him. I can probably do it, but you must understand, it’s a rather exasperating position to find oneself in.”
    Steve Winslow shrugged. “You chose it.”
    Dirkson’s face purpled. His eyes blazed. “And there’s a fine statement coming from defense counsel, when he knows perfectly well he engineered the whole thing.”
    “One moment,” Steve Winslow said. “Are you accusing me of suborning perjury? Is that the serious charge, you were referring to before?”
    “No, it’s not,” Dirkson said. “And I’m not accusing you of that now.”
    “What are you accusing me of?”
    Judge Wylie held up his hands. “Gentlemen, gentlemen. We’ve gotten far afield. Mr. Dirkson, it would appear you called this sidebar merely to pick a fight with the defense attorney.”
    “Not at all, Your Honor.”
    “What is your purpose, Mr. Dirkson?”
    “I told you. The witness is lying.”
    “I need something other than your