SW06 - The Innocent Woman

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by Parnell Hall


  “The serial numbers matched?”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I called the police. They came and arrested Miss Dearborn.”

  A.D.A. Pearson smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Fletcher. That’s all.”

  Judge Dalrymple looked over at the defense table where Amy Dearborn’s long haired lawyer sat looking bored as ever. “Does the defense wish to cross-examine?”

  Steve Winslow sighed. “I have one or two questions, Your Honor.” He got to his feet, stretched, crossed in to the witness stand. He frowned, rubbed his head. “Mr. Fletcher, correct me if I’m wrong. This happened on May 3rd?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “That was the day you called the police and they arrested Miss Dearborn?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Did you also mention May 3rd as the day Miss Dearborn left your employ?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “That was her last day with your firm?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “I believe you said you fired her, is that right?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why did you fire her?”

  Frank Fletcher was a thin-faced man with a rather arrogant quality when he smiled. He did so now. “You want me to answer that?”

  “I certainly do.”

  “I fired her for stealing.”

  “I see.” Steve Winslow nodded gravely. He turned, walked over to the jury box. Turned back to the witness. “Mr. Fletcher, you weren’t here for jury selection. But we had quite a discussion of the concept of innocent until proven guilty. Are you familiar with that concept?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then how can you have fired the defendant for theft when she has not been found guilty of theft?”

  Frank Fletcher drew himself up. “I consider that a mere formality.”

  “Formality?” Steve said. “You consider our judicial system a mere formality?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Pearson said. “Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial. Let counsel stick to the facts.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Dalrymple snapped. “Mr. Winslow, try to move it along.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Steve said. As if taking his cue from the judge’s admonition, he picked up the pace. “The fact is, you believe the defendant is guilty of theft?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “You base that belief on the fact she had two of the twenty dollar bills in her possession?”

  “Yes. And the fact she was alone in the office Friday night and had the opportunity to take them.”

  “You consider that conclusive?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Beyond any reasonable doubt?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, let me see if I can change your mind,” Steve said. “You stated that you withdrew the twenty dollar bills from the bank and placed them in the cash drawer?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Before you did so, you gave the bills to your detective, Mr. Macklin. He wrote down the serial numbers. Is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Did he put the bills in the cash box.”

  “No. I did.”

  “After he wrote down the serial numbers, he returned the bills to you and you put them in the cash drawer?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And what was the amount you put in the cash drawer?”

  “Five hundred dollars.”

  “In twenty dollar bills?”

  “That’s right.”

  “At five per hundred, that would be twenty-five twenty dollar bills. Is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Mr. Macklin wrote twenty-five serial numbers in his notebook?”

  “Ah...” Frank Fletcher hesitated. “To the best of my knowledge, he did. I didn’t actually count them. Mr. Macklin should speak for himself. But I understand the notebook is here in court. You can count them if you want.”

  “I most certainly will,” Steve Winslow said. “But to the best of your knowledge, Mr. Macklin wrote the numbers of all those bills in his notebook?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And the amount you put in the cash box was five hundred dollars?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “When was that done?”

  “Approximately twelve-thirty on Friday afternoon.”

  “And what was the date again?”

  “April 30th.”

  “That was the same day you withdrew the money from the bank?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “How did you withdraw the money?”

  Frank Fletcher frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I mean, did you write a check? Did you go to a cash machine? How did you get the twenty dollar bills?”

  “I wrote a check.”

  “On what bank?”

  “Chase Manhattan.”

  “You wrote it that day?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Was that a company check or a personal check?”

  “A company check, of course.”

  “An F. L. Jewelry check?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well,” Steve said. “If I understand your testimony correctly, if we were to examine your company bank records, we would find a company check for five hundred dollars made out to cash, signed by you, dated and cashed on April 30th. Is that right?”

  Frank Fletcher took a breath. “Not exactly,” he said.

  “Oh?” Steve said. “And why is that?”

  “I didn’t say I wrote a check for five hundred dollars.”

  “You didn’t? I’m sorry. I guess I misunderstood you. Didn’t you say you took out five hundred dollars from the bank?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And didn’t you say you wrote a check?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Then please explain yourself. What do you mean when you say you didn’t write a check for five hundred dollars?”

  “That wasn’t the amount of the check.”

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “Because that wasn’t all the money I needed at the time.”

  “Are you saying you wrote a larger check than five hundred dollars?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “How large a check did you write?”

  “As I recall, I wrote a check for eight hundred dollars.”

  “Eight hundred dollars?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And what was the extra three hundred dollars for?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Pearson said. “Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”

  “Overruled,” Judge Dalrymple said. “Witness will answer.”

  “It was Friday. Payday. The three hundred dollars was for the payroll.”

  “Payroll?” Steve said.

  “That’s right.”

  Steve smiled. “Mr. Fletcher, as I recall, there are only three people in your company. Yourself, Mr. Lowery and Miss Dearborn. Are those the people on your payroll?”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “You paid them all with three hundred dollars?”

  “Certainly not,” Frank Fletcher said. “Mr. Lowery and I take our salary in the form of checks. Miss Dearborn was paid in cash.”

  “The three hundred dollars was for Miss Dearborn?”

  “That’s right.”

  “That was her salary? Three hundred dollars a week?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “And did you pay her her salary that afternoon?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You paid her three hundred dollars in cash?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And the three hundred dollars you paid her—was that in the form of twenty dollar bills?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “So, when you went to the bank you took out eight hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills?”

  “That’s right.”

 
; “Of that, five hundred you gave to Mr. Macklin to write the serial numbers down, and three hundred you gave to Miss Dearborn for her weekly salary. Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Referring to the money you gave to Mr. Macklin—you didn’t write the serial numbers down from those bills?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “But you were there when he did, is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You watched him do it?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And he was the one who wrote the serial numbers down?”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Was he the one who put the money in the cash box?”

  “No, he wasn’t. I did that.”

  “You did so yourself?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You’re speaking now of your own personal knowledge. When you say the money was put in the cash drawer, you’re not taking Mr. Macklin’s word for it. And you’re not testifying to something Mr. Macklin did. You’re saying that you yourself placed that money in the cash box and put the cash box in the cash drawer?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And when did you do that?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “When did you put the money in the cash box and put the cash box in the cash drawer?”

  “Right then.”

  “Right when?”

  “The time we’re talking about. On the lunch hour. Friday. April 30th. When Mr. Macklin was in our office.”

  “I see,” Steve said. “And before the defendant returned from lunch?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And did Mr. Macklin leave before she returned from lunch?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And why was that?”

  “Like I said. We didn’t want her to know he was there.”

  “Now, when the defendant returned from lunch—you didn’t fire her that afternoon?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “You fired her the following Monday. Is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “She continued to work for the rest of the day? You let her go on working that afternoon just as if nothing had happened?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “And you paid her her salary?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “When did you pay her?”

  “At the end of the day. Same as usual.”

  “Just before you left work?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well,” Steve said. “If I understand your testimony correctly, on Friday, April 30th, you went to the bank and took out eight hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills. You gave five hundred of that to Mr. Macklin. He wrote down the serial numbers. Mr. Macklin returned the five hundred dollars to you, leaving you once again with eight hundred dollars. Of that eight hundred dollars you put five hundred in the petty cash box in the petty cash drawer and gave three hundred to the defendant for her salary. Is that right?”

  “No, it is not right,” A.D.A. Pearson cried angrily, lunging to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor!”

  “Let’s have a sidebar,” Judge Dalrymple said. He rubbed his head, got down from his bench and met the lawyers and court reporter off to one side, where they could confer in low tones out of earshot of the jury. When the reporter was set up to take notes, Judge Dalrymple said, “All right, what’s the objection?”

  “I object to counsel summarizing the witness’ testimony.”

  Judge Dalrymple shook his head. “He’s merely asking him if certain things he’s testified to are true.”

  “I further object on the grounds he’s assuming facts not in evidence.”

  “What facts?”

  Pearson took a breath. “Well,” he said. “Well, the way he’s phrasing it. That Macklin gave him back five hundred dollars, then he had eight hundred dollars of which he put five hundred in the cash drawer and gave three hundred to the defendant.”

  “Which is exactly what happened,” Judge Dalrymple said, irritably. “Now you may not like it, but those happen to be the facts. If you don’t like the slant counsel is putting on them, bring it out on redirect. Meanwhile, the objection is overruled.”

  Judge Dalrymple returned to his bench and the court reporter to his seat. A.D.A. Pearson reluctantly sat down and Steve Winslow approached the witness.

  “The court reporter will read the question,” Judge Dalrymple said.

  As the court reporter droned on through his long summation, Pearson realized that all he’d accomplished by his objection was emphasizing the point and allowing the jury to hear it twice. “Do you understand the question?” Steve said.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Can you answer it?”

  “Yes, I can,” Frank Fletcher said. “That is not what happened. I put the five hundred dollars Mr. Macklin gave me in the petty cash box.”

  Steve smiled. “I understand that is your contention. But it’s not really the question I asked you. Let me make it simpler, Mr. Fletcher. How much’ money did you withdraw from the bank that day?”

  “Eight hundred dollars.”

  “In twenty dollar bills?”

  “Objected to. Already asked and answered.”

  “Overruled.”

  “Yes. In twenty dollar bills.”

  “You gave five hundred dollars of that money to Mr. Macklin?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Did he give you the money back?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Was that before or after you paid the defendant her salary?”

  Frank Fletcher glared at Steve Winslow and did not answer.

  “I’d like an answer to that, Your Honor,”

  “Witness will answer the question,” Judge Dalrymple ruled.

  “Was that before or after you paid Miss Dearborn her salary?”

  “Before.”

  “Later that afternoon you gave the defendant three hundred dollars?”

  “Yes.”

  “In twenty dollar bills?”

  “That’s right.”

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

  A.D.A. Pearson was on his feet. His exasperation was evident. “Mr. Fletcher. You stated you gave five hundred dollars to Mr. Macklin?”

  “That’s right.”

  “He wrote down the serial numbers and gave the money back to you?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And it was that five hundred dollars that you put in the petty cash box in the petty cash drawer?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “And there’s no chance whatsoever that you gave any of those twenty dollar bills to the defendant as part of her salary?”

  “Absolutely not. I put them in the petty cash drawer.”

  “Each and every bill?”

  “Each and every bill.”

  As soon as he said the words, they echoed in A.D.A. Pearson’s brain. Each and every. Each and every bill. Each and every juror. The same phrase Steve Winslow had tripped him up on during jury selection.

  And it was the echo of that phrase that triggered the realization of what he’d just done.

  Steve Winslow’s cross-examination of Frank Fletcher had raised the inference that Frank Fletcher had made a mistake and paid the defendant’s salary with some of the bills Mr. Macklin had recorded the serial numbers of. But Winslow hadn’t said so. He’d never actually voiced the thought. Never put it in words.

  But Pearson had. He was the one making the suggestion. Granted in a negative context, but even so. He was the one bringing it up.

  It took only a split second for all of that to register in A.D.A Pearson’s mind. But in that split second he had time to glance over at the defense table to see a totally demoralizing sight.

  Opposing counsel Steve Winslow, grinning broadly.

  5

  PEARSON FIRED BACK WITH Samuel Macklin. This was a change in plans. He’d intended follow Frank Fletcher with Marvin Lowery and save t
he detective for last. But after Fletcher’s poor showing, Pearson felt he needed to do something right away to win the jurors back.

  In this regard, Macklin was a good bet. Solid, stocky, muscular, confident and self-assured, Macklin looked exactly like what he was—an ex-cop. He took the stand and testified to his twelve years on the force and seven years as a P.I.

  Pearson’s smile let the jurors see how happy he was with Samuel Macklin’s qualifications.

  “Now then, Mr. Macklin,” Pearson said. “Have you ever been employed by F. L. Jewelry?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Please tell us the specifics of that employment.”

  “Certainly.” Macklin reached into his jacket pocket and took out a notebook. “If I could refer to my notes?”

  “Please do.”

  Macklin flipped the pages. “Here we are. I was approached on April 29th by Frank Fletcher of F. L. Jewelry to investigate the disappearance of money from his company’s petty cash drawer.”

  “You agreed to that?”

  “I agreed to the employment in as much as he and his partner were willing to follow my instructions in the matter.”

  Pearson frowned. “Just what do you mean by that, Mr. Macklin?”

  Macklin drew himself up. “There were many ways to proceed in the matter. I am not merely a functionary. If Mr. Fletcher wanted me to follow some prearranged plan of his own, he was in the wrong place. The way I work, if someone has a problem, I like to analyze it and present them with a solution. If I can’t do that, I don’t want the job. I know from experience that trying to implement someone else’s plan of action is never advisable Something always comes up they didn’t plan for. Better to start from scratch and devise your own plan that covers all eventualities.”

  “Which is what you did in this case?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And Mr. Fletcher agreed to your terms?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “And what did you instruct Mr. Fletcher to do?”

  “I told him to withdraw five hundred dollars from the bank in twenty dollar bills. I ascertained from him when his secretary would be out to lunch and arranged to come to his office then.”

  “Which you did?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And when was that?”

  “The next day. Friday, April 30th at 12:30 P.M.”

  “And what happened at that time?”

  “I met with Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Lowery. Mr. Fletcher gave me the five hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills. I sat at his desk and copied the serial numbers from the twenty dollar bills into my notebook.”

 

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