No Team To Root For (22) Stoner looked at Walt, who had no response. Judge Stoner then motioned for the two attorneys to return to their respective places. Walt, without looking at the defense attorney, stormed back to his seat and sat down heavily. Miles walked back leisurely to the wit-ness box. After a short pause, Stoner turned to the jury and spoke deliber-ately. "I must advise you that the defendant's fingerprints can be used in evidence only in that they did belong to Dr. Jessop. They should not be used to discern neither what day they were left nor what time they were left." "Thank you, Your Honor." Miles spoke to the jury. Then he turned back to Sal Petrow and said patronizingly, "You knew that --- didn't you, Sal?" Before Petrow could respond, Miles said "Okay, Sal. Let's look at one other issue here. That's right. The watch." The defense attorney looked at George, who seemed to-tally absorbed by the trial and quickly at Barrett, who seemed to be in a great deal of pain. Then he glanced at the jury and finally back at the witness. The smile returned. "Sal, refresh my memory. Tell us again what time was registered on the wristwatch that you found in the deceased's apartment." "Da face on da vatch vas smashed." He twirled the ends of his mustache. "We know that, Sal." Miles remained calm and spoke politely. "The question was, what time was registered on it?" Barrett felt a trickle of sweat drip down his spine. When he arched his back and moved his buttocks, he realized his rear end was numb. He felt like he had been sitting there for days. Shifting in his seat didn't help. "Da vatch read ten tventy." Sal took his hands away from his mustache and folded his arms. "And what do you deduce from this?" Sal thought a moment, then shrugged. "Dot da defendant vas der at dat time." Miles nodded. "Okay, Sal. Now, if the shooting were to have taken place say --- at nine or at eleven thirty, what do you deduce from that?" "Objection!" Ivers was on his feet. "Mr. Petrow has stated the time of the shooting quite accurately." Miles turned quickly to Stoner. "Your Honor, I have challenged that accuracy --- " Now he turned to Ivers. The smile vanished. " --- as not being so accurate!" There was a brief silence as Miles and Walt stared sharply at each other. Stoner sat back in his large chair. "I will let the question stand." Walt sat down slowly. Miles quickly turned back to Sal Petrow. "I'll repeat the question, Sal." He lowered his voice and got close to the witness. "What would you deduce if the shooting were to have taken place at nine or at eleven thirty?" Sal didn't answer right away so Miles added, "Take your time, Sal." "Val --- da vatch said --- " "I know what the watch said. We all know what the watch said!" Miles raised his voice and waved his finger in the air. "That wasn't the question!" Both George and Barrett were now seated at the edge of their re-spective chairs. "Sal. I'll be more than happy to repeat the question." Sal loosened his collar. "No. I tink I know vot you're getting at." He looked up at the ceiling for a moment then looked back at the attorney. The courtroom was suddenly very still. "If da shooting take place at ten tventy, defendant dot stepped on da vatch vas der at da time of da shooting." He took a deep breath and scratched the back of his neck. "If da shooting take place at nine or at eleven tirty, and if defendant step on vatch at ten tventy --- " Sal took another breath. " --- den defen-dant may not have been der at da time of da shooting." "Bingo!" "But it is possible --- " "Sal, I have one final question." Miles interrupted quickly. "How do you know for certain that Dr. Jessop stepped on the watch? Do you have some sort of --- footprint?" Sal blinked his eyes a couple of times then shook his head slowly. "No. No footprint. But vatch vas smashed and it belong to defen-dant." "Sal, that's not what I asked you. Let's assume it is the defendant's watch." He leaned closer to Sal again. "How do you know Dr. Jes-sop stepped on it?" He glanced at Barrett who was still seated on the edge of his seat. Then he turned back to the witness. "Couldn't Jodi Bartless have stepped on it?" Before Sal could respond, Miles added coyly, "Or --- maybe the real murderer stepped on it." "Mr. Garrison!" roared Stoner. Walt started to stand, but didn't as Stoner turned toward the jury. "Members of the jury will disregard that last comment by the de-fense!" Then he whirled toward Miles and added caustically, "We have made no decision in this case yet --- have we, Mr. Garrison? I believe that is why we are all here!" He sat back and took a deep breath. "Proceed." Sal stared at Miles, blinking his eyes again and went on as if there had been no interruption. "It vas defendant's vatch." Miles ignored the reply. "Maybe a lamp fell on it. Maybe a table fell on it. Maybe a picture fell on it. Maybe --- " "Objection!" Walt Ivers was on his feet again. "Are we going to inventory the entire apartment?" "Sustained!" Stoner leaned toward Miles. Again he showed a controlled fury. "Mr. Garrison, I believe that you have made your point. Kindly move on!" Miles nodded politely. "Thank you, Your Honor. I have no fur-ther questions." "But it is possible --- " Sal started to talk. The defense attorney turned rapidly to the witness, shutting him up. "I said I have no further questions!" As Miles walked away, he winked at the young female juror in the front row. But he knew it wasn't necessary. Walt had chosen a poorly briefed witness who was easily discredited. He sat down confident that he had won the first round. "Mr. Ivers?" asked the judge. "No further questions." Walt Ivers looked at the floor as he spoke. Mrs. Magenta Purdy was then called to the witness stand, looking much older than her seventy-two years. "Mrs. Purdy." said Walt "Would you please tell the court where you were on the night of May tenth between ten and ten thirty pm." Mrs. Purdy just sat there staring at the prosecutor apparently lost in thought. "Mrs. Purdy --- " "Oh --- why yes. I remember." She smiled back at Walt. "That's the time I clean the Patton Apartments." Walt Ivers nodded patiently. "They are really very nice for the money." she went on. "And late at night is the only time I have to clean them. You see --- " "Mrs. Purdy --- " " --- during the day I baby-sit for my eight year old granddaugh-ter. I have four you know. They are --- " "Yes, Mrs. Purdy! I am sure they are lovely." Walt quickly cleared his throat. "But we only want to know where you were on Wednesday May tenth between ten and ten thirty pm." Ivers then took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. "When I clean the apartments, I always start at the top and work my way down. That way --- " "Your Honor!" said a frustrated Walt Ivers. "Will the court ac-quiesce to the fact that Magenta Purdy was near the apartment that the deceased lived in on May ten between ten and ten thirty?" "Agreed." said the judge as he rubbed his forehead with his eyes closed. "Please continue." Miles and George both sat with their arms folded --- grinning. Barrett sat expressionless. "Mrs. Purdy." said Walt. "Is there anyone in this courtroom that you saw leaving Jodi Bartless' apartment that night?" Magenta stared at Walt for a second then pursed her lips. "What night was that?" The prosecutor took a deep breath and spoke louder than he meant to. "Wednesday night. May tenth!" Then he walked up to Barrett Jessop. "Mrs. Purdy. Is this the man?" "Objection!" yelled Miles. "Overruled!" Stoner's black eyes narrowed. "He is leading the witness." added the defense. "I said overruled!" Stoner's intense gaze remained on Miles. "Please continue." Mrs. Purdy squinted in the direction of Barrett. "Oh yes. Dr. Jes-sop." Then she waved at him. "I did see him that night. I remem-ber. I was going to clean --- " "Let the record show," interrupted Ivers, who was now at the witness stand, "that Mrs. Purdy has identified the defendant as be-ing the one she saw leave the deceased's apartment on the night in question." Walt breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Now, Mrs. Purdy, what time did you see him?" "See who?" she asked innocently. Ivers glared at his witness for several seconds. "Dr. Jessop." Then he unavoidably raised his voice again. "Dr. Jessop! On May tenth!" "I don't remember." Magenta smiled at Walt. The prosecutor took another deep breath and bit his upper lip. "Was it near --- say ten thirty pm?" "Objection!" Miles was on the edge of his seat. "Prosecution is leading the witness!" "Sustained." said Stoner. "I think near ten thirty." said Mrs. Purdy as an afterthought. "Are you certain?" Walt's voice cracked. Magenta nodded and smiled broadly. "Yes." "No further questions." Ivers gestured to Miles. "Your witness." Then he took out his handkerchief and once again wiped his face as he sat down. Miles walked slowly up to Magenta Purdy with his best phony smile. "Magenta --- may I call you Magenta? I hate formalities." Mason Stoner banged his gavel. "Mr. Garrison! You will dispense with your infuriating little intimacies and get on with your cross ex-amination!" "Yes. Of course, your Honor." Miles turned back to the witness and continued, his smile still in place. "Magenta. You stated that you saw Dr. Jessop leave Jodi Bartless' apartment at around ten thirty pm --- give or take a couple of minutes." "Why --- yes. I believe that's correct." "Did you know Ms. Bartless?" "No. Not very well. She seemed to be a very nice and quiet young lady. Lived alone." "Mrs. Purdy." Miles put his hands behind his back and faced the jury. Then he nodded his head and spoke slowly. "Could it be possible that Dr. Jessop was going to her apartment instead of leaving it?" Mrs. Purdy stared at the defense lawyer for a moment. "Why --- yes. I suppose so." She put her fingers to her lips. Her brow was furrowed as if to re-orient her thoughts. "Oh! I just remembered him asking me where she lived." Miles glanced at his client, who up until now was quiet. But Miles knew he wanted to join in the conversation. He didn't. "I forget why." continued Magenta. "But --- yes. He wanted to know where she lived. He seemed a bit confused. So I pointed it out to him." "I see." Now Miles glanced at Walt Ivers. Then he turned back to the witness and said encouragingly, "Go on, Mrs. Purdy." "They look so much alike, you know." said the elderly cleaning lady. "Pardon me?" "The apartments. They all look alike." Miles knew he had better get back to his original line of question-ing. "And you think it was near ten thirty." Magenta paused again before answering. "Yes. About then." "And you are certain the man in question was Dr. Jessop?" "Well --- " She paused and again squinted in Barrett's direction. " --- I thought it was him." "Magenta. Now you take your time." Miles got closer and smiled broadly. "You don't want to lie on the witness stand." "Objection!" screamed Walt. "Defense is threatening the wit-ness." "Sustained!" Mason Stoner's booming voice softened as he looked at the cleaning lady. "Mrs. Purdy, you have already an-swered the question. You don't have to answer it again." "Well --- I certainly don't want to lie. I really did think it was him." She again put her fingers to her lips. Her brow once more became furrowed. "Now I don't know. I'm all confused." "That's okay, Magenta." said Miles condescendingly. "We just want to get some idea of what was going on the night Jodi Bartless killed herself." "Objection!" Walt Ivers was on his feet shaking his fist in the air. "This is inexcusable!" "Sustained! Mr. Garrison --- " "I withdraw the last statement." Miles did not have to look at Mason Stoner to feel the impact of his wrath. But he knew, as did everyone in the courtroom, that an uncertainty was now firmly planted into the heads of each and every juror. He had discredited the State's second witness. It was another blunder by Ivers, and the defense had won the second round. "No further questions." Miles went quickly to his seat. "Does the prosecution wish to cross examine?" Stoner asked Ivers. Walt thought for a moment then sat down slowly and answered meekly. "No, your Honor." "Mrs. Purdy." said the judge gently. "That will be all. You may step down." "Did I do okay?" asked the bewildered cleaning lady. "Yes, Mrs. Purdy. You did fine." Stoner continued to be gentle. "Now you are excused. You may step down." "I --- I just got so confused." "Yes --- well, thank you, Mrs. Purdy. That will be all. Please --- step down." Then he turned to the young clerk. "Will you please help Mrs. Purdy?" Magenta, with the help of the clerk, got up and slowly edged her way out of the courtroom. With the exception of a disgruntled Walt Ivers, everyone seemed mildly amused at her utter confusion and disjointed mumblings. Mason Stoner suddenly banged his gavel and spoke in his power-ful and commanding voice. "It's getting late. I am going to call a halt. Now, are there any problems with that --- Mr. Garrison?" "No, Your Honor." "Good! Mr. Ivers?" "No, Your Honor." "Splendid! Court is adjourned until tomorrow at nine am." * XXX At eleven thirty-five pm the telephone rang at Mason Stoner's home in Gallery Ohio, a quaint little village of eight hundred peo-ple. The residents of the small community were either white collar or professional. The house itself was a modest three-bedroom ranch style made of stone and stucco and surrounded by trees and bushes which Stoner pruned or trimmed on a regular basis. The Stoner residence was located at the very outskirts of the vil-lage. "Now who could that be at this hour?" asked Sylvia Stoner, Ma-son's wife of thirty-five years. She was already in bed and half asleep. "I'll get it." said the judge. He put down his toothbrush and picked up the receiver. The Stoners had an unlisted number that only a few people had access to. Governor Bruce Holstadt was one of those few. "Hello, Mason. Bruce Holstadt here. How are you this evening?" "Fine." It's eleven thirty-five. Cut the crap! The judge took off his bathrobe and threw it over a chair across from the bed. "Mason, I will get right to the point!" The Governor acted friendly. "I knew you would." The judge said it quietly to himself as he buttoned the top button of his bright flowery pajamas. "You know, Mason that I intend to run for the Senate next term." He spoke matter-of-factly. "Oh?" Stoner was somewhat taken aback by the Governor's am-bitious statement. But he wasn't surprised. "Yes! And a good reputation is very important. Don't you think so?" "Well --- yes." Mason Stoner could visualize Holstadt with his fat ass in an overstuffed chair, his fat feet and short legs on a coffee table, and a half-smoked cigar in a dirty ashtray next to him. "You see, Mason," The Governor spoke as if it were a one-way conversation. "as Governor of this fine state, I have this large and dubious responsibility --- you know." Then he paused briefly to blow his nose. "I mean --- showing these ignoramuses that voted for me how much you --- care. How concerned you are in making their cities as crime free as possible." He paused briefly again. "And of course you do this by getting the criminal element off the streets." Mason thought to himself, what happened to 'getting to the point'? But he wasn't going to ask. "I think all that is very important." Holstadt continued. "Don't you think so?" Stoner wondered why he asked so many questions when he seemed to have all the answers. But again he kept his opinions to himself. "And since my track record as far as crime control is concerned is somewhat --- shall we say --- questionable --- " Your track record as far as crime control is concerned is a piece of shit! Mason would still not verbalize his thoughts. He looked at his wife. She was snoring softly. " --- I would say that the Barrett Jessop case could be very im-portant to my political career. I could use it to help me --- climb the political ladder." Holstadt blew his nose again. "And I really do want this position in Congress. I'd make a great Senator. Don't you think so?" Stoner did not respond. Bruce went on. "Now it is quite apparent that Walt Ivers is doing and will continue to do a piss poor job as prosecutor. I know he's got Miles Garrison on the other side. And I'll be the first one to admit that Garrison is one shrewd cocksucker! But Ivers is allowing him to bullshit his way through this damn trial! And Garrison puts his pants on the same way Ivers does. One leg at a time!" Holstadt sniffed once then cleared his throat. "Now, I really hate to butt in and make a major issue out of all of this, but this particular case is getting statewide attention. And I wouldn't be in the least surprised to read about it in the New York Times! This means I need a conviction!" Stoner heard some rustling on the other end and assumed Hol-stadt was moving his fat ass and his fat feet. He looked at Sylvia, grateful she was still asleep. "So, Mason, how do you think we can get this conviction?" Holstadt didn't give Stoner a chance to respond as he answered his own question. "Well, I have the solution!" "You what?" Mason sat down on the edge of the bed. The springs creaked under his weight. "I said I have the solution." Stoner began to rub his chin nervously. And now he could feel his pulse speed up. He wanted to yank the phone out of the wall. "This is how I see it, Mason." The Governor's voice became more hostile. "You and Walt follow this plan I've got set up. And if it works, which I'm sure it will, then everybody wins! Walt's career doesn't suffer, you can retire in three years --- with my blessing, and next year I become Senator of the great state of Ohio." There was another brief pause. "And I will remember those that helped me --- as well as those that refused. You do get the picture --- don't you, Mason?" Stoner was seething from Holstadt's menacing threat. "Yes, Bruce. I get the picture." You prick!
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