Presumed Puzzled

by Parnell Hall

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Henry Firth said.

  Judge Hobbs put up his hand. “Hang on. Ms. Baldwin, I will very reluctantly sustain the objection on that grounds. Can you rephrase the question, Mr. Firth?”

  “I have no objection to you referring to ‘the occasion on which you claim you burned the puzzle,’” Becky said sweetly.

  “I will withdraw the question,” Henry Firth said. “Let’s move on.”

  The lawyers resumed their positions.

  “The question is withdrawn,” Judge Hobbs said. “Mr. Firth?”

  “Mrs. Martindale, on the occasion in the parking lot when you say you burned the puzzle, did you recognize anyone other than Ken Jessup and Luke Haslett?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “I don’t know his name, but he’s here in court. I saw him just before the recess and remembered he was one of the people I saw that night.”

  “Can you point him out to us?”

  “Yes, of course. He’s the young man sitting right over there with the other reporters.”

  Paula Martindale turned and pointed straight at Aaron Grant.

  Chapter

  54

  “State your name.”

  “Aaron Grant.”

  “What is your relationship with the defendant?”

  “I am married to her niece, Sherry Carter.”

  “Mr. Grant, were you in the parking lot of the Bakerhaven mall on the day that Roger Martindale was killed?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Did you happen to see the witness, Paula Martindale, at the time?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What was she doing?”

  “Sitting in her car.”

  “Was she alone?”

  “Yes, she was.”

  “Was she sitting in the driver’s seat?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was the window down or up?”

  “The window was down.”

  “Did you see her do anything at the time?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She burned something.”

  There was a reaction in the courtroom. Judge Hobbs banged the gavel.

  Henry Firth smiled triumphantly. “What did she burn?”

  “A piece of paper.”

  “Did you see what that piece of paper was?”

  “I wasn’t close enough to see.”

  “How big was it?”

  “Not that big.”

  “The size of a sheet of typing paper?”

  “Objection, Your Honor. Leading and suggestive.”

  “He’s a hostile witness, Your Honor.”

  “He’s shown no hostility so far. Try to avoid leading him.”

  “Mr. Grant, could you tell if the paper was larger than a standard sheet of typing paper?”

  “No, I could not.”

  “Could you tell if it was smaller?”

  “No.”

  “Could you see anything written or printed on it?”

  “No, I could not.”

  “What color was the paper?”

  “White.”

  “How did Paula Martindale burn the paper?”

  “She held it out the window, lit it with a pocket lighter. She held it by one corner until it was almost entirely burned, then dropped it on the ground.”

  “What time was this?”

  “I didn’t look at my watch.”

  “Approximately what time was this?”

  “I really couldn’t say.”

  “Was it in the morning or afternoon?”

  “It was in the afternoon.”

  “How did you come to be at the mall? Had you come from work?”

  “That’s right.”

  “What do you do, Mr. Grant?”

  “I’m a reporter for the Bakerhaven Gazette.”

  “You were at the paper before you went to the mall?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You went to the mall after work?”

  “I’m a reporter, Mr. Firth. I went to the mall during work.”

  “Did you just run out to get something?”

  “No.”

  “Were you on the job at the mall?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So when you say you were there during work, you mean you were there in the course of your job?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you work regular hours, Mr. Grant?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “As a reporter, do you also work hours that are outside of your regular schedule?”

  “Of course.”

  “When you say you were at work at the mall, it was not necessarily within nine-to-five business hours?”

  “Objected to, Your Honor. Viciously leading and suggestive.”

  Judge Hobbs frowned. “In light of Mr. Grant’s recent answers, I am now going to rule he is, if not hostile, at least a reluctant witness. I’m going to allow leading questions.”

  “When you say you were at the mall during work, that was not necessarily within nine-to-five business hours?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why were you at the mall?”

  “As the result of an anonymous news tip.”

  “What was that tip?”

  “That high school students were getting high in the parking lot.”

  “Were you told what time this was happening?”

  “Before dinner.”

  “People have dinner at different times, Mr. Grant. Were you told anything more specific than that?”

  “No.”

  “Did you get the tip yourself?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “How did you get it?”

  “It was a phone call.”

  “Who was on the phone?”

  “I don’t know. It was anonymous. A man just gave me the tip.”

  “And did you recognize his voice?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “Did you go to the mall as soon as you got the tip?”

  “No. I was working on a story. It had to be in before—” Aaron broke off.

  “You were about to say a specific time, Mr. Grant. When did the story have to be in by?”

  “Five o’clock.”

  “Did you make that deadline?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You turned in the story and went to the mall?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t recall reading a story about students getting high at the mall. Did the tip pan out?”

  “No, it did not.”

  “And how long did you wait at the mall to see if it might?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “As long as an hour?”

  “Probably.”

  “As long as two hours?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “But it might have been two hours?”

  “It’s possible. I just don’t remember.”

  “And how long after you got to the mall did you see Paula Martindale burn the puzzle?”

  “Objection. Assuming facts not in evidence.”

  “How long before you saw Paula Martindale burn the paper?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Was it as soon as you got there?”

  “No.”

  “Was it after you’d been waiting for some time?”

  “I don’t know how long.”

  “And how long after she burned the puzzle—excuse me, the paper—did you stay at the mall?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “But at some time during the one to two hours you think you might have stayed in the mall parking lot, the witness Paula Martindale stuck her hand out the window of her car and burned the paper?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Grant. No further questions.”

  “Ms. Baldwin?” Judge Hobbs said.

  Becky stood up. “Your Honor, I’m not prepared for this witn
ess. I was given no advance notice. I would ask for an adjournment.”

  “No objection,” Henry Firth said. “I can understand why counsel might need time to regroup.”

  “Mr. Firth, such side comments are wholly inappropriate.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Very well. Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”

  Chapter

  55

  Aaron Grant was not having a good time of it. He, Sherry, and Cora were all crammed into Becky Baldwin’s office, which somehow didn’t seem big enough for the four of them.

  “You couldn’t tell me?” Sherry demanded.

  “Sweetheart—”

  “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. Paula Martindale was on trial. Becky was defending her. Cora was trying to find anything to help her out. They desperately needed something to substantiate Paula’s story. You had it, and you didn’t speak up.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I don’t understand,” Becky said. “You’re a newsman. You had an exclusive and you kept it in your pocket.”

  “Scooping your own story is no scoop,” Aaron said.

  “You want a scoop?” Sherry said. “How about ‘newsman divorced after trashing own family’?”

  “Little long for a headline,” Aaron said.

  “You can joke about it?” Sherry said.

  “Well, he’s gotta do something,” Cora said. “Look at the poor guy.”

  “You’re sticking up for him?” Sherry said.

  “Someone has to,” Cora said.

  “If I could just explain—”

  “You can explain?” Becky said. “This I gotta hear.”

  “The thing is, I’m personally involved.”

  “You’re involved with Paula Martindale?” Sherry said incredulously.

  “Don’t be silly. I’m involved with my family. I am, as Henry Firth pointed out, an interested party. Paula Martindale’s on trial, Becky’s defending her, Cora’s doing her legwork. So what does she come up with? Her niece’s husband. Who just happens to be in the right place at the right time to support the ridiculous alibi. How’s that gonna look?”

  “Better than nothing at all,” Becky said.

  “Yes, and if it had gotten that far, I would have come forward. But it didn’t. Becky wasn’t even presenting her case. Henry Firth was bumbling through his. If it developed that Paula Martindale needed my alibi, of course I would have given it. But as I recall, she never told her story until she fired Becky and turned against Cora. At which point you would have liked me to have jumped up and said, ‘That’s absolutely right, she has a rock-solid alibi, Cora must have done it.’”

  “You could have told me,” Sherry said.

  “And what would you have done? You’d have insisted I tell Cora. Or you’d have told her. How helpful is that? Becky’s building a case on the fact the prosecution can’t prove she did it and Cora’s presumed innocent. You want me to undermine that case? No, that case should play out, legally, in the court system. If the prosecutor finds me, of course I’m going to tell the truth, which I did. But I’m not screaming it from the housetops. Would you really want me to?”

  “You should have told me from the beginning,” Sherry said. “We’re married. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

  “Welcome to my world,” Cora said.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “No, it’s not. But if you take the husband-wife dynamic out of the equation, there is this murder charge.”

  “Right,” Becky said. “What difference does it make why Aaron didn’t come forward before? He has now, and we have to deal with it.”

  “Yes, we do,” Cora said. “If you girls would take a little walk?”

  “What?” Sherry said.

  “I’m the one going to jail. I’d like to talk to Aaron. Becky, why don’t you take Sherry out for a spin. You’ve both had a bit of a shock. You’ve been betrayed by a man. It may be new to you, but it happens to be right in my wheelhouse. Take a little walk. Aaron and I will be right with you.”

  Reluctantly, Becky and Sherry left.

  “You sent them out together?” Aaron said.

  “You think that’s a bad idea?”

  “I can’t think of much worse.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  “What?”

  “I got rid of them so we can talk turkey. All this crap about you’d have come forward if you had to but it wouldn’t look good because you’re a member of the family, and Paula hadn’t told her story yet, and all of the rest of the junk you thought up.”

  “It happens to be true.”

  “Yeah, it is. It’s just not why you didn’t come forward. Your ex-girlfriend was handling the case. You didn’t want to be the knight in shining armor who comes charging in on his white steed to save the damsel in distress.”

  “Come on.”

  “Hey, you know how many times I’ve been married? You know how many tall tales I’ve told to avoid telling the truth? This is a white lie, at the very worst. Hell, it’s not even a lie, it’s a sin of omission. You didn’t want to set off an avoidable marital spat. The fact it morphed into you didn’t want to send your wife’s aunt up the river is entirely coincidental. So relax, take the body blows, tell them what they want to know. It can’t hurt now, the worst is over.”

  Cora chucked Aaron on the arm. “Come on, let’s go see if they killed each other.”

  Chapter

  56

  “So, you have a nice time with your boyfriend?”

  “That’s not funny,” Becky said.

  “Hey, I’m looking at a one-way ticket to the big house. You’re faulting me on my sense of humor?”

  “What’s the matter, you got no confidence in your lawyer?”

  “I’ve got confidence in her. Unfortunately, she’s an attorney, not a magician.”

  “How can you say that, after I slept with Aaron Grant to try to get him to change his testimony?”

  “That’s more like it,” Cora said. “If you can’t laugh at your troubles, what’s the use having troubles?”

  Becky flung herself into her chair. “Yeah.”

  “I take it Aaron had nothing helpful to add.”

  “How could he? He’s already done his worst. Nothing could make it any better. It can only make it worse.”

  “How, if he’s already done his worst?”

  “I’m sure he’ll think of a way.” Becky took a breath. “Look, we’ve got to do some serious reevaluating. By all rights Paula Martindale killed Roger. He’s her husband, she’s a bitch, she’s covered in blood, holding the knife. She practically had the word ‘guilty’ tattooed on her forehead. Lo and behold, thanks to Aaron Grant, of all people, she couldn’t possibly have done it.”

  “Maybe Barney blew the time of death.”

  “Maybe, but try to prove it. I can cross-examine till I’m blue in the face, trying to stretch the parameters of the time he was killed, but all I’m doing is stretching the bounds of reason. When you’re relying on reasonable doubt, reason is one thing you don’t want to stretch.”

  “So what do we do now?” Cora said.

  “I thought loopy bright ideas were your business.”

  “I’m out of bright ideas.”

  “How about loopy dumb ones?”

  “Now you’re talking.” Cora settled back in her chair. “Okay, nothing sane works. We gotta try something insane. How about Luke Haslett?”

  “What about him?”

  “Let’s drag him into the case.”

  Becky stared at her. “Cora, I just used every trick in the book to keep him out of the case.”

  “Right. That’s why it’s a loopy bad idea.”

  “It’s not just bad. It’s suicidal. Are you forgetting you’re the only one with a motive to kill Luke Haslett?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not being tried for that.”

  “Cora.”

  “Look, I didn’t bring Luke Ha
slett into the case, she did, with all the talk about a drunk stumbling in front of the car. Frankly, I didn’t believe it. I thought Luke Haslett was a witness she trumped up to bolster her story. Which made sense as long as she was guilty. If she’s innocent, I’m wrong. And Luke Haslett was a real witness all along.”

  “He had to be a real witness. Ken Jessup saw him.”

  “Unless Ken Jessup was a phony witness, too.”

  “He hates Paula Martindale.”

  “Well, don’t give him too much credit. So do I.”

  “Cora, this isn’t helping. You said you wanted to bring Luke Haslett into this.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, Ratface won’t expect it. It’ll be worth it just to see the look on his face.”

  “What’s the practical value in terms of this case?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “I’m glad we had this little talk.”

  Cora yawned and stretched. “I’ll tell you what I don’t understand,” she said. “And, yes, I know that yawning is a defense mechanism to mask fear. I don’t understand why she brought Luke Haslett into this in the first place.”

  “She needed a witness.”

  “He’s a terrible witness. He’s a hopeless drunk whose memory is going to be faulty at best. Whose testimony could probably be bought with a pint of cheap rum. His credibility is virtually nonexistent.”

  “He was there. He was a disheveled drunk so he stood out. One recognizable face in a vast sea of middle-class mediocrity.”

  “Whoa!” Cora said. “Listen to Little Miss Law Degree. Throw a dose of adversity in her face and real, true feelings come out.”

  “And it’s not like she named him as her witness. She named Ken Jessup. Luke Haslett was an afterthought. She didn’t even know his name. If Ken Jessup hadn’t identified him, he might have escaped unnoticed.”

  “And what’s with that?” Cora said. “Ken Jessup is a terrible witness, too. He’s wildly prejudiced and isn’t going to do anything to help her. Look how elusive he was about the time all this happened. He wouldn’t even put it on the same day.”

  “She noticed him because he was a friend of her husband,” Becky said. “She’s upset, all she’s thinking about is her husband. Nothing else is going to ring a bell. She noticed him in particular because she almost got out of her car to talk to him before realizing that was a bad idea. She named him because he may be wildly prejudiced, but she doesn’t think he’d have the guts to lie under oath.”