Uncommon Thief

by William Manchee

Chapter 45

  Cross Examination

  After Fred’s outburst in his holding cell, depression overcame him, and he was despondent the next morning when he was brought back to the courthouse. It seemed to him that Jenny's testimony may have done him in, as Roberts seemed to be losing his confident, cocky attitude that had prevailed during the first week of the trial. For the first time, Fred could see the worry and fear in Roberts’ eyes.

  They brought him into the courtroom right at nine, but the Judge was running late. Fred hated just waiting around with everyone staring at him, so he closed his eyes and tried to think of something pleasant. The first thing that popped into his head was an image of Maria and him on the library lawn at UCLA. They had just eaten lunch together, as they often did. His head was in her lap, and she was stroking his hair gently. It was a warm day, and he could smell the sweet, erotic aroma of her body. It embarrassed her, but he loved to bury his head in her lap and take a deep breath. It was so intoxicating.

  Unfortunately, his daydream was interrupted when the Judge finally made his appearance twenty minutes late. He asked Whitehead to call his next witness.

  "The United States calls Joe Harper."

  "Agent Harper, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" the Judge asked.

  "I do."

  "Please state your name for the Court," Whitehead said.

  "Joseph P. Harper."

  "What is your occupation?"

  "I am a special agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

  "Do you know the defendant, Fred Fuller?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Can you identify him for the Court?"

  "Yes. That's him next to Mr. Roberts."

  "How did you come to know the defendant?"

  "I questioned him first in regard to an embezzlement at the Hermosa Beach Bank USA in September."

  "Was he a suspect?"

  "No. He was a potential witness."

  "And since that time, have you had any other contact with the defendant?"

  "Yes. He was the messenger that picked up at Bank USA, San Bernardino branch."

  "Is that the same branch that was robbed on October 20, 1967?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you been assigned to investigate this robbery?"

  "Yes, that and the death of Harvey Hamlin."

  "What does the job of a messenger entail?"

  "The messenger picks up the bank’s work for the day and takes it to the data processing center. Mr. Fuller's route started at the Palm Springs branch, then he picked up Banning, Beaumont, Redlands, and San Bernardino."

  "Would a messenger have a key to the bank?"

  "Yes."

  "Did Mr. Fuller have a key to the San Bernardino branch of Bank USA?"

  "Yes. At the time of the robbery and murder, he did have a key."

  "How did you learn about the robbery?"

  "I got a call from Bank USA headquarters about 8:30 a.m. on the Monday following the robbery, which apparently occurred on Friday, reporting that they had found a body in their vault and some money missing."

  "Did you take any action as a result of that report?"

  "Yes. Agent Walters and I immediately went to San Bernardino to investigate."

  "What did you find?"

  "It was just as it had been reported. Harvey Hamlin was lying face down in the vault with his hands tied with duct tape behind his back and his mouth taped so he couldn't speak."

  "Was there any sign of struggle?"

  "No."

  "Why did it take three days to discover the body?"

  "Once the vault is closed on Friday night, it isn't opened again until Monday morning at 8:00 a.m."

  "Would you surmise from your observations that Harvey Hamlin was alive when the vault—"

  "Objection, Your Honor! Counsel is leading the witness and asking for speculation," Roberts said.

  "Objection sustained."

  "Did you do any testing for fingerprints?"

  "Yes, we did."

  "And what were your findings?"

  "We found the defendant's prints on the counter in front of the tellers’ windows, a couple on the coffee table, one thumb print in the President's office, on the packing tape that bound Harvey’s hands and one index finger on the teller's cart, which had been locked up in the vault."

  The courtroom erupted in conversation, and the Judge frowned, banged his gavel, and said, "I'll have order please!"

  "So you found a fingerprint of the defendant, Fred Fuller, inside the vault?"

  "That's correct. Oh, yes, and on the wheel on the front of the vault."

  “By the wheel, do you mean the locking mechanism that is turned to open or close the vault?”

  “Yes. It’s like a steering wheel on a car, except it’s made of steel, and when you close the vault, you turn it until it locks into place.”

  "I see. How did you know these were Mr. Fuller’s prints?"

  "Mr. Fuller provided the bank his prints when he was first hired and we got them again during our investigation. We compared the prints we found around the bank to his and came up with these matches."

  "In the course of your investigation, did you have occasion to examine Mr. Fuller's automobile?"

  "Yes. He has a 1959 blue Ford Falcon which we thoroughly inspected after obtaining a search warrant."

  "And did you find anything unusual about this vehicle?"

  "Yes. The license plates didn't match California DMV records."

  Whitehead went over to the prosecution’s table and picked up a license plate. "Agent Harper, I'm going to show you what's been marked as People's Exhibit 17 and ask you if you can identify it."

  "This is the license plate that was taken off the defendant's car."

  "What's wrong with this license plate?"

  "It's not the license plate that should have been on that car. Apparently, someone switched license plates so that if a license check were done, incorrect information would be pulled up."

  "Why would someone do that?"

  "Objection! Calls for speculation," Roberts said.

  "I think Agent Harper is qualified to give an opinion on that. I'll allow it," the Judge ruled.

  "One reason someone would switch plates would be if they knew they had a hot car and didn't want it to be discovered."

  "Did Mr. Fuller in fact elude the FBI due to this license plate switch?"

  "Yes, Mr. Fuller drove by one of our agents on a stakeout in front of Candy Clisby's apartment. The agent called in the license plate and didn’t get a match, so he ignored the vehicle. Mr. Fuller was able to enter the apartment, pick up Miss Clisby, and leave without detection because of this deception."

  "Your Honor, the prosecution requests People's Exhibit 17 be admitted."

  "No objection," Roberts said.

  "Peoples Exhibit 17 is admitted," the Judge said.

  "Did Mr. Fuller do anything else to evade the pursuit of the FBI?"

  "Yes. He painted his car blue. It used to be maroon."

  "Based on your investigation, was Mr. Fuller preparing to flee from this jurisdiction and perhaps leave the country?"

  "Without a doubt."

  "Now, Agent Harper, has any of the 6.7 million dollars been recovered?"

  "No."

  "What has been done to find it?"

  "Well, all the obvious places were searched. . . . Mr. Fuller's apartment, his home in Ventura, Candy Clisby's apartment, among other places. We've also got all the banks in southern California looking for the money."

  "What about Devil's Canyon, the place where Ms. Clisby was bitten by a snake and later died?"

  "No, we haven’t searched Devil's Canyon because nobody knows where it is exactly. There is no such place on any of the maps of that region, and no one we’ve talked to has ever heard of it."

  "I see. Pass the witness."

  "Agent Harper, isn't it true Mr. Fuller had been in an accident which required him to have
a new car door installed?"

  "I wouldn't know that."

  "Well, in your surveillance, did you notice his driver’s side door didn't match the rest of his car?"

  "Yes."

  "In fact, it was blue, and the rest of the car was maroon, isn't that right?"

  "Yes."

  "So he probably had good reason to get his car painted then?"

  "I suppose so."

  "Agent Harper, isn't it true that Mr. Fuller went back to work after he painted his car and allegedly switched his license plates?"

  "That's correct."

  "Now, would that make any sense to go to all the trouble of painting your car and switching license plates and then going back to work?"

  "No, except his plans were upset by Miss Clisby's untimely death."

  "Perhaps, but if he were a desperate bank robber and murderer, don't you think he would have just kept on going rather than go back to work on Monday?"

  "You would think so, unless he was very clever or very stupid."

  "Now, Agent Harper, you testified you found Mr. Fuller's fingerprints inside the vault on a teller's cart, correct?"

  "Yes."

  "Isn't it true the tellers’ carts are usually kept outside the vault?"

  "Yes, during the day, but they are brought inside the vault at night when the bank is closed."

  "So, isn't it possible that Fred Fuller may have touched the teller's cart while it was outside the vault in the course of picking up the bank data processing for the day?"

  "Anything's possible, but he would have no reason to go behind the tellers’ windows.

  "Objection, Your Honor! Non-responsive after ‘possible’."

  "Sustained. Just answer the questions, Agent Harper," the Judge said.

  “Now. You testified that Mr. Fuller’s fingerprints were found on the packing tape that bound Mr. Hamlin.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where was the packing tape stored?”

  “Ah. In a drawer in the kitchen, I believe.”

  “Isn’t it true that Mr. Fuller often went into the kitchen to wait if the bags weren’t ready?”

  “I wouldn’t know that, but he did tell me he had been in the kitchen on the day of the robbery.”

  “So, isn’t it possible he saw the packing tape and touched it or picked it up to look at it?”

  Agent Harper shrugged. “Anything is possible, I suppose.”

  “Agent Harper, isn’t it true that Mr. Fuller on a previous occasion found that same bank vault open and called and reported it to his supervisor?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, isn’t it possible he touched the wheel on that occasion, perhaps helping the bank cashier close the vault?”

  “That was weeks earlier. I couldn’t imagine his prints still being on the vault.”

  “But you don’t know that they weren’t, do you?”

  “I guess not.”

  "Isn't it true that the FBI has another suspect in this case who has not been apprehended?"

  "Well, there was another suspect—Sam Stewart. However, he had an airtight alibi."

  "Who is Sam Stewart?"

  "A messenger who met Fred Fuller every night and gave him the work from the Big Bear and Lake Arrowhead branches."

  "Where did they meet?"

  "At San Bernardino."

  "What is the alibi you mentioned?"

  "Mr. Fuller advised us that Sam Stewart showed up after him on the night of the robbery. It just so happens that Mr. Stewart was late because he stopped at an army surplus store to buy fishing gear. The proprietor of the store talked to him for over fifteen minutes, and he remembers it vividly."

  "What exactly did Sam tell him?"

  "Objection, hearsay," Joel said.

  "Sustained," the Judge replied.

  "Aren't you making an assumption for that alibi to be valid?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're assuming that when Sam met Fred, it was the first time he had been to the San Bernardino Branch that night. What if he had been there earlier, before Fred got there and before he went to the army surplus store? Isn't that possible?"

  "I don't see how he could have managed that and picked up Arrowhead and Big Bear."

  "Isn't it possible that Sam Stewart knocked on the door after everyone had left except Harvey Hamlin? Since Harvey knew Sam Stewart, he wouldn’t have thought anything about letting him in. The vault was still open, so Sam could have bound and gagged Harvey, put him in the vault, and then cleaned out the money. During the night, Harvey might have had a coronary from the stress of being tied up and left in the vault. Isn't that possible?"

  "It's possible, but not likely."

  "Isn't it just as likely as your case against Fred Fuller?"

  "I don't think so."

  "Do you know where Sam Stewart is right now?"

  "No."

  "Isn't it true Sam Stewart quit his job the day after the robbery and left town?"

  "Yes," Harper said, “but that wasn’t unexpected. He’d given two weeks’ notice.”

  "In the course of your investigation, did you happen to check on the criminal history of Sam Stewart?"

  "Yes."

  "What can you tell us about Mr. Stewart's criminal history?"

  "Objection, Your Honor. Mr. Stewart is not on trial here." Whitehead said.

  "Your Honor, we have a right to explore evidence of other culpable parties to this crime."

  "Objection overruled."

  "What about Mr. Stewart's criminal history?"

  "He served ten years for armed robbery at San Quentin."

  "Thank you. Pass the witness."

  A commotion broke out again in the gallery. The Judge whacked his gavel one more time and then announced a recess for lunch. As soon as the Judge left the bench, the reporters swarmed around Maria and her family. The bailiffs had to come over to rescue them and chase the reporters out of the courtroom.

  Fred looked at Roberts, smiled, and said, "That was a good cross-examination."

  "Thanks, but the jury will never remember it."

  "What do you mean?"

  "All they’re going to remember about Agent Harper's testimony is that the FBI found your fingerprints inside the vault."

  Fred just stared at Roberts for a moment and then turned toward Maria, who was still sitting a few rows back in the gallery. He motioned to her, and she came up to the rail. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. "How you making out, babe?" he asked, trying to seem cheerful.

  "I'm so worried," she replied. "There's been so much damaging testimony that I am afraid the jury might convict you."

  "Roberts hasn't put our case on yet. I am sure things will change a lot."

  "I hope so."

  “Any word on Steve and Randy?” Fred asked.

  "Yeah. They got a lead on Sam. They think he's in Canada."

  “God, I hope they find him.”

  "What will happen if they do?"

  "Well, if he has the money, it will look pretty clear to everyone that he did it. If he doesn't have the money, finding him probably won't make much difference."

  "God, I hope they find him with the money then," Maria said hopefully.

  "Me, too, and it better be pretty soon, or it will be too late."

  The bailiff motioned that it was time for Fred to leave.

  "I've got to go, sweetheart. I love you."

  Maria leaned over the railing and gave Fred a gentle kiss. Her soft, sweet lips quickly revitalized his spirits, and for the first time in days, he mustered a smile.

  "I love you too,” Maria said. “Don't give up. I know you're going to get through all of this."

  Tears welled in Fred’s eyes and for the first time in his life, Fred began to appreciate the power of love, and in the midst of all the adversity that had befallen him, he enjoyed a brief moment of peace.

  After lunch, Sam Whitehead finished putting on his case, and now it was Joel's turn to present his defense. Joel, howe
ver, had no intention of putting on a real defense. His strategy was simply to tear down the State's case and make it look like he was trying to create reasonable doubt. His case, in chief would be short—a few character witnesses and bank employees who hadn't seen anything. Joel's first witness was Jim Wells from the motor pool.

  "The defense calls Jim Wells."

  Jim walked up to the witness chair and sat down. After taking the oath, Joel began to ask him questions.

  "Do you recall October 20, 1967?"

  "Right, quite clearly."

  "Did you see the defendant, Fred Fuller, that day?"

  "Yes, sir, I did. He came in right on time and checked out his car to go to Palm Springs."

  "Did you notice anything unusual about him that day?"

  "No."

  "When did he come back?”

  "It was pretty late. He had a flat tire on the way back, which delayed him over an hour."

  "How did he appear when he came in that night?"

  "He seemed alright. I didn't notice anything strange."

  "Did you inspect the flat tire?"

  "Yes. It appeared to be a nail. I took it over to the garage and patched it."

  "Did you see Fred carrying anything when he came in after doing his route?"

  "No. He was empty handed."

  "Did Fred look like he had just robbed a bank and murdered someone?"

  "No, not at all. He just looked a little tired."

  "He looked tired?"

  "Yeah. The lad was burning the candle at both ends. School started at nine each morning, I think, and he didn't get back from his route until eight thirty at night. He was running nearly a twelve-hour day, not including his homework and social life."

  "Did you talk to him at all when he came in?"

  "No. It was late, and I had a young lass waiting for me. It was no time for idle chatter."

  There was laughter in the gallery.

  “Are you familiar with the decedent, Harvey Hamlin?”

  “Yes. I knew him quite well.”

  “Were Mr. Hamlin and Sam Stewart good friends?”

  “Yes, they were. Sam often took Hamlin fishing on Lake Arrowhead.”

  “Objection! Non-responsive.”

  “Sustained,” the Judge said. “Just answer the question asked, Mr. Wells.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jim replied.

  “Do you know a driver named Jake Johnson?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he at one time have the San Bernardino route?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Were he and Hamlin good friends?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Jake used to tell me about his fishing trips and other things he did with Sam and Harvey. They were all three good friends and spent a lot of time together.”

  “Objection!” Whitehead yelled. “This is all irrelevant.”

  “It’s very relevant, Your Honor,” Roberts retorted. “We’re entitled to bring evidence of other parties who may have equal opportunity and motive to commit the crime.”

  “Overruled,” the Judge said.

  “You may answer.”

  “Where was Jake on the night of the robbery?”

  “He was on a parallel route?”

  “What do you mean by parallel?”

  “Well, it’s a route that runs north and south but about twenty miles farther inland.”

  “And does this route ever get close to San Bernardino?”

  “Yes. At one spot, it comes within five miles of the San Bernardino branch.”

  “The same branch that was robbed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Jake get in on time the night of the robbery?”

  “No. He was almost an hour late too.”

  “Did he give you any explanation for why he was late?”

  “He said his branches were late, but I smelled liquor on his breath, so I asked him if he had stopped at a bar.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He denied it, but I could tell by his reaction that he was lying.”

  “Objection! Speculation.”

  “Sustained,” the Judge ruled.

  “So, in your opinion, isn’t it possible that Jake, Sam, and Hamlin were the perpetrators of this crime?”

  “Objection!” Whitehead screamed.

  “Withdraw the question. Thank you, Mr. Wells. Pass the witness."

  Whitehead began, "Didn't you think it was strange that Fred Fuller just happened to have a flat tire on the night the bank was robbed?"

  "Never thought much about it really."

  "You testified Fred didn't have any extra baggage when he came in."

  "Yes. I believe that is right."

  "Couldn't he have dumped the money somewhere—like the trunk of his car—before he came into the motor pool?"

  "I suppose anything is possible."

  “So, you really have no idea who robbed the bank, do you?”

  “No. I wasn’t there, so I can’t say I know what happened.”

  "That’s what I thought. No further questions, Your Honor."

  A man came through the double doors that led into the courtroom and rushed up to Joel Roberts. He whispered something to him, and then Roberts turned to the Judge.

  “Your Honor,” Roberts said, “I have just been informed that one of the witnesses I subpoenaed for this afternoon has just shown up at LAX and is trying to get on a flight to Mexico City.”

  The Judge frowned. “Well, we can’t have that. What’s his name?”

  “Harold Clifford.”

  “What airline?”

  “American.”

  The Judge turned to his bailiff. “Contact airport security and have them detain Mr. Clifford. Then contact the U.S. Marshal’s office and get someone to pick up Mr. Clifford and bring him here.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” the bailiff said and then scampered off.

  “We’ll go ahead and take a break. Maybe when we return, Mr. Clifford will be here to explain why he’s so anxious to leave the country. Let’s reconvene in one hour.” The Judge got up and hastily left the bench.

  Fred looked out in the gallery but didn’t see Maria. Her parents were there, so he called them over. “Where’s Maria?”

  “She said she had something she needed to do,” her mother said.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. She said she’d be back in a few hours.”

  Fred frowned. He wondered what she was doing, and he hoped it wasn’t anything dangerous. The deputy tapped him on the shoulder, indicating it was time to leave. Reluctantly, he followed the deputy back up to his holding cell.

  When the court reconvened, Harold Clifford was sitting on a bench with a U.S. Marshal seated next to him. The Judge glared at Clifford and then said, “Mr. Roberts, call your next witness.”

  “The defense calls Mr. Harold Clifford.”

  Clifford got up warily and walked to the witness stand. The judge swore him in.

  “Mr. Clifford,” Roberts began, “did you receive a subpoena to testify in this court today?”

  “I don’t know. Somebody shoved something in my face, but I didn’t look at it.”

  “Did this person tell you that you’d been served?”

  Clifford shrugged. “He may have said something like that.”

  “Just so there’s no misunderstanding, do you realize you’re under oath and you must truthfully answer any questions that are asked of you?”

  Clifford took a deep breath. “Well, that could be a problem.”

  “A problem? Why is that?”

  “I don’t think I want to answer any questions without my counsel present.”

  “Objection!” Whitehead said. “Your Honor, can we sort this out outside the presence of the jury? I fear this could all be inflammatory and prejudicial.”

  The judge nodded. “Alright. Bailiff, take the jury back to the jury room until we figure this out.”

  The bailiff stood and
escorted the jury out of the courtroom. The Judge then continued, “Mr. Clifford, are you invoking your right to remain silent under the Fifth Amendment, or do you just want to have a lawyer at your side to confer with?”

  “Both. I’m not going to sit here and let a couple lawyers rip me to shreds.”

  “Well, the Fifth Amendment can only be invoked if the answers that you give might incriminate you. Since your testimony here today will be concerning the Bank USA robbery and anything you might know about it, you can only invoke the Fifth Amendment if you fear your truthful testimony might tend to incriminate you in that particular bank robbery. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, do you still want to invoke the Fifth Amendment?”

  “Yes,” Clifford said. “I’m not going to say a damn thing.”

  “Very well,” the Judge said. “Bailiff, take Mr. Clifford into custody for contempt of court for failing to honor a subpoena and attempting to flee the jurisdiction of the court.”

  The bailiff grabbed Clifford, swung him around, and cuffed him. Then he led him out of the courtroom. Fred watched him leave, upset that he had refused to testify. He wondered what he was hiding. Then he noticed Mrs. Hamlin standing up and making a quick exit. He wondered what was up with her.

  The Judge looked at Roberts expectantly. “Do you have another witness?”

  Roberts frowned. “Uh, well, in light of Mr. Clifford’s refusal to testify, I’d like to re-call Special Agent James Walters.”

  “Your Honor,” Whitehead interjected, “if Mr. Roberts is planning to question Agent Walters about the investigation of the Venice Beach robbery, I’m going to have to object on the grounds that it would be irrelevant and highly prejudicial.”

  “Your Honor, by invoking the Fifth Amendment in this case, Mr. Clifford has made any information the FBI has on him highly relevant to this case, whether it might be prejudicial or not.”

  “Objection overruled,” the Judge said. “Bailiff, bring in the jury, and then get Agent Walters back in here.”

  The bailiff left and came back with the jury, who took their seats. A minute later, Agent Walters took the stand, and Roberts began questioning him.

  “Mr. Walters, have you been involved in an investigation of a theft of funds from the Venice Beach branch of Bank USA?”

  “Yes.”

  “How does Harold Clifford fit into that investigation?”

  “Well, he is the cashier of the Venice Beach Branch.”

  “How much money is missing from that branch?”

  “Shortly after Mr. Clifford took over the job of cashier there, it was discovered one morning that $178,000 was missing.”

  “Was Mr. Clifford a suspect?”

  “Of course, along with the assistant cashier and a couple of tellers, all of whom had vault access.”

  “Who was the messenger handling the Venice Beach branch when the loss took place?”

  “Jake Johnson.”

  “Are Jake Johnson, Harvey Hamlin, and Harold Clifford friends?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “They knew each other, didn’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know they often went fishing together with Sam Stewart, the messenger from Big Bear?”

  “I’ve heard that, but I have no personal knowledge of it.”

  “How is the search for Sam Stewart coming?”

  “He’s disappeared. We haven’t been able to find him.”

  “Don’t you think it’s rather curious that two of the suspects in the Venice Beach robbery were friends with Mr. Hamlin and Sam Stewart?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Isn’t it possible that Clifford, Johnson, and Hamlin were in on the San Bernardino robbery, and they enlisted Sam Stewart to take the money out of the country to be split up later on?”

  “Objection!” Whitehead said. “Calls for speculation.”

  “Sustained,” the Judge said. “Careful, counselor,” he cautioned Roberts.

  “Pass the witness,” Roberts said.

  “No questions,” Whitehead said.

  "Thank you. You may stand down," the Judge said.

  Joel swallowed hard. He was out of witnesses and wanted to rest, particularly if there was a chance Sam Stewart would be found. But he knew he’d likely be criticized if he rested before making a more diligent effort to prove this new theory that Hamlin, Clifford and Jake Johnson were in on the heist together. Then he got an idea. He’d noticed that Mrs. Hamlin had been in the courtroom. He didn’t know where she’d gone or if she was still in the building, but if they could find her he could put her on the stand and ask her about the relationship between her husband, Clifford and Jake Johnson. That, at least, would be another witness he’d put on to bolster his alternative theory. He knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it might make him look a little better.

  “Your honor, due to Mr. Clifford’s failure to testify here today we have decided to call Marilyn Hamlin, since she might be able to shed some light on the relationship between Mr. Clifford, Jake Johnson and her husband. I believe I saw her in the courtroom earlier.”

  “Very well. Bailiff, see if you can find Mrs. Hamlin in the hall.”

  Joel didn’t think there was a chance in hell Mrs. Clifford would say anything earth shaking when she got on the stand. That was one reason they hadn’t had her there ready to testify. The other reason was if she did testify there was a danger she might say something damaging about her husband that might lead the jury to think he was involved in the heist rather than just a victim. Joel knew it was never a good idea to call a witness when you had no idea what they might say, but he felt he had no choice in this instance.

  Five minutes later the bailiff came back with Marilyn Hamlin following close behind him. “Your honor, I found Mrs. Hamlin in the cafeteria. She’s ready to testify.”

  “Thank you,” the Judge said looking at Marilyn Hamlin. “Mrs. Hamlin. You’ve been called to testify. Please take the stand.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied walking into the witness box and sitting down.”

  The bailiff gave the oath and Joel began to question her. After she’d identified herself and stated her relationship to Harvey Hamlin Joe asked, “Mrs. Hamlin, do you know a man named Jake Johnson?”

  “Sure. He’s a messenger at Bank USA. My husband knew him because used to pick up the bank’s data processing each day.”

  “Did they ever socialize?”

  “Sure, they’d go fishing together and they were on a bowling team together.”

  “I see. Where did they go fishing?”

  “Up at Big Bear Lake. Sam Stewart, another messenger, had a guiding service there and he’d take them out a couple times per year.”

  “Do you know a man named Harold Clifford.”

  Marilyn shook her head. “I have heard the name. I think he was a cashier at another branch. I’m not sure which one. Didn’t he get into trouble?”

  “You tell me. I can’t testify. What do you know about him, if anything?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t know him. I just remember Harvey mentioning that he was under investigation or something.”

  “So, to your knowledge your husband and Harold Clifford did not socialize or have any business dealings together?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Were you ever present when your husband and Sam Stewart were socializing?”

  “No, I don’t go fishing or bowling.”

  “So you’ve never overheard any conversations between them, in person or telephone conversations?”

  “No. Not that I recall.”

  “Did Harvey ever talk about Sam Stewart at all.”

  “Yeah. He’d talk about the fish they caught and how the trip went.”

  “Did you ever hear them talk about the bank?”

  Whitehead stood up. “Objection, your honor. “Relevance.”

  The judge took a deep breath. “Mr. Roberts. Where are you going with this? Does Mrs. Hamlin h
ave any relevant information regarding Mr. Fuller’s guilt or innocence.”

  Roberts nodded. “Yes, your honor. She does. Just a few more questions and I’ll be done.”

  “Very well. Overruled. You many continue.”

  Roberts turned to the witness. “Does your husband owe you alimony and child support?”

  “Yes, almost $30,000.”

  “Did he have any other personal debt?”

  “Yes, he had over a hundred grand in credit card debt and I have no idea how much he owed his bookies.”

  There was a stir in the courtroom. The judge gave the gallery a hard look.

  “So he was a gambler?”

  “Yes, and a drinker. His drinking is what drove us apart.”

  “So, your ex-husband was desperate for money?”

  “Objection, calls for speculation,” Whitehead said.

  “Your honor,” Whitehead replied. “She can state her opinion based on her knowledge of her ex-husband and his financial situation.”

  “Overruled,” the Judge said.

  “Yes, he complained about his dire financial situation every time I brought up past due alimony or child support. He was forever complaining about being broke.”

  “Do you think your husband would have been capable of stealing money from Bank USA.”

  “Objection!” Whitehead screamed. “Calls for speculation, inflammatory and prejudicial.”

  “Withdrawn,” Roberts said. “Pass the witness.”

  The judge looked at the clock on the wall and said, “This would be a good time to take a break. Court will reconvene in 30 minutes.

  Joel sat down wondering if he’d gone too far. His instinct as a defense counsel was to go for the jugular when he had a witness on the ropes. He had been scoring some points with Mrs. Hamlin, but he hoped he hadn’t introduced reasonable doubt. The last thing he wanted was for Fred to get acquitted. That would leave the robbery and murder unsolved and lead to further investigation. He was glad the Congressman hadn’t been attending the trial.