by Parnell Hall
“Is that the same notebook that you have there?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And are the serial numbers still written in your notebook?”
“Yes, they are.”
“How many serial numbers have you written down?”
“Do you want me to count them?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Very well. One moment.” There was a pause while Macklin counted up the numbers. “There are twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five serial numbers?”
“That’s right.”
“All from twenty dollar bills?”
“Yes, of course. Five hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills.”
“Thank you. Let me have the notebook, Mr. Macklin. Your Honor, I ask that this be marked for Identification as People’s Exhibit Number One.”
“So ordered.”
There was a pause while the court reporter marked the notebook.
“Now then, Mr. Macklin,” Pearson said. “After you had written down the serial numbers, what did you do with the twenty dollar bills?”
“I gave them back to Mr. Fletcher.”
“And what did he do with them?”
“He put them in the petty cash box, and put the petty cash box in the petty cash drawer.”
“In your presence?”
“In my presence.”
“Was anyone else present at the time?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Lowery.”
“Mr. Lowery was present when you gave the money back to Mr. Fletcher?”
“Yes, he was.”
“Mr. Lowery was present when Mr. Fletcher put the money in the petty cash box.”
“Yes, he was.”
“And the money Mr. Fletcher put in the petty cash box—was that the same money you gave back to him?”
“Yes, it was.”
“The same twenty dollar bills?”
“That is correct.”
“Mr. Fletcher didn’t put some of those twenty dollar bills aside and substitute some twenty dollar bills of his own?”
“No, he did not.”
“You’re certain on that?”
“Absolutely.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m a trained observer. That’s my job.”
“You saw Mr. Fletcher put the twenty dollar bills that you had given him in the petty cash drawer?”
“Yes, I did.”
Pearson smiled. “Thank you very much, Mr. Macklin. And was that the only time you were in the office of F. L. Jewelry?”
“No. I was there the next Monday.”
“Can you tell us what happened on that occasion?”
“Certainly. I met Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Lowery on the street in front of their office building at eight-thirty that morning.”
“And what happened then?”
“They went up and unlocked the office.”
“Who unlocked the office?”
“Mr. Fletcher.”
“What happened then?”
“We went in and Mr. Fletcher took the petty cash box out of the petty cash drawer. He opened it and examined the contents. I’m not allowed to tell you what he said, am I?”
“No. Only what you personally observed or did. So, never mind what Mr. Fletcher told you. But after he counted the money in the petty cash drawer, what did you do then?”
“We waited in the office till Miss Dearborn arrived.”
“And when was that?”
“Approximately nine o’clock.”
“And what happened when Miss Dearborn arrived?”
“I identified myself as a private detective and—”
“One moment. Am I to assume you had never seen her before?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m sorry. Please continue.”
“Well, like I say, I identified myself as a private detective and I asked her to empty her purse.”
“Did she do so?”
“Not at first.”
“Why was that?”
“As to why, I couldn’t tell you. The fact is, she didn’t want to open her purse. She wanted to know what was going on. Mr. Fletcher explained the situation to her—again, I understand I’m not allowed to say what he said. But he talked to her, and afterwards she agreed to let me look in her purse. I examined the money in her wallet and found she had four twenty dollar bills. I compared them to the serial numbers in my notebook.”
“With what result?”
“Two of the serial numbers matched.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I have the bills right here.” Macklin reached in his jacket pocket again, took out an envelope. He pulled two bills from the envelope. “I have one bill, serial number K30914335A and another bill, serial number B80632833D.”
“Your Honor, I ask that these bills be marked for identification as Peoples’ Exhibits Two-A and Two-B.”
“So ordered.”
When the bills had been marked for identification, Pearson smiled and said, “These are the bills that you took from the wallet of the defendant on the morning of Monday, May 3rd?”
“Yes, they are.”
“And they match two of the serial numbers that you had written down in your notebook in the office on April 30th, the notebook that has been marked for identification as People’s Exhibit One?”
“Yes, they do.”
Pearson smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Macklin. That’s all.”
Steve Winslow got to his feet. “Mr. Macklin, you testified to being a trained observer, is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I think you also testified that you saw Mr. Fletcher put the twenty dollar bills in the petty cash box, is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“He gave you the twenty dollar bills?”
“Yes, he did.”
“You wrote the serial numbers down and gave them back to him?”
“Yes, I did.”
“He took those twenty dollar bills and put them in the petty cash drawer?”
“That’s right.”
“Twenty-five twenty dollar bills?”
“That is correct.”
“You counted them?”
“He counted them and I counted them.”
“And there were twenty-five?”
“Yes, there were.”
“So when you said earlier in response to Mr. Pearson’s question that you didn’t know how many serial numbers you had written down, you would have to count them, that was incorrect?”
Macklin’s smile was somewhat superior. “Not at all,” he said. “I meant exactly what I said. I had not counted the serial numbers. Nor had I numbered them. I had counted the bills, and knew them to be twenty-five. And I had written down the serial numbers for those bills, so I could assume I had written down twenty-five numbers. But I’m not allowed to testify to what I assume. Only what I know.”
At the prosecution table, A.D.A. Pearson let the jurors see his broad grin.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Steve said. “But you know now from counting that you wrote twenty-five serial numbers in your notebook?”
“That’s right.”
“And you knew then from counting that Mr. Fletcher gave you twenty-five twenty dollar bills?”
“That’s right.”
“And it was those same bills that you wrote the serial numbers of down in your notebook?”
“That’s right.”
“And those same bills that you returned to Mr. Fletcher?”
“That’s right.”
“And those same bills that Mr. Fletcher put in the cash box and put in the desk?”
Macklin nodded. “Absolutely. The same ones.”
“And you know that because you are a trained observer, and if Mr. Fletcher had substituted any bills for the ones you’d given him, you’d have seen him do it. Is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
Steve Winslow nodded. “I see. Mr. Macklin, do you have x-ray visi
on?”
Macklin blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“X-ray vision. You know. Like Superman. Can you see through walls?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Pearson said. “Of all the ridiculous—”
Judge Dalrymple banged the gavel. “That will do. If you have an objection, state it in legal terms.”
“Incompetent, irrelevant and immaterial.”
“It goes to his qualifications, Your Honor.”
“Nonsense,” Pearson said. “That’s a facetious question. It—”
The gavel cut him off again. “You will argue objections at the sidebar, counselor,” Judge Dalrymple snapped. “Only in this case no argument is necessary. The objection is sustained.”
“I’ll withdraw the question and ask another. Mr. Macklin, are you clairvoyant?”
“Same objection.”
“Same ruling. Mr. Winslow, if you have a point to make, please lay the groundwork first.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Macklin, I believe you stated Mr. Fletcher could not have substituted any twenty dollar bills for the ones you gave him because you’re a trained observer and you would have seen him do it. Is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“You also stated that when the defendant arrived for work Monday morning you identified yourself as a private detective and removed two bills from her possession. Is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I believe you stated that you had to identify yourself to Miss Dearborn because she had never seen you before?”
“That’s right.”
“She didn’t see you on Friday when you wrote down the serial numbers from the bills?”
“No, of course not. She wasn’t there.”
“She wasn’t?”
“No. That was the whole point. I came while she was out to lunch.”
“And left before she returned from lunch?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And did Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Lowery leave with you?”
“No. Why would they do that?”
“So you left alone?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, Mr. Macklin,” Steve said. “So, when you testify that Mr. Fletcher could not have substituted any bills, because as a trained observer you would have seen him do it, is it not a fact that unless you’re clairvoyant or have x-ray vision, you would have no way of knowing whether he made such a substitution after you had left his office and before the defendant returned from lunch?”
Pearson lunged to his feet to object, but Judge Dalrymple’s banged the gavel and cut him off. Gesturing with it, Dalrymple said, “Sidebar.”
A.D.A. Pearson could hardly contain himself waiting for the court reporter to get set up. When he was finally allowed to speak, it was like opening the flood gates.
“Your Honor, Your Honor,” he said. “This is totally outrageous. It is beyond all bounds. X-ray vision. Clairvoyant. Your Honor has already ruled on those questions. And here is counsel raising them again. It’s misconduct. It constitutes contempt of court.”
Judge Dalrymple shook his head. “My ruling at the time was that no proper foundation had been laid. That no longer applies.”
“Then I object on the grounds that it’s incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial, assumes facts not in evidence, calls for a conclusion on the part of the witness and is leading and suggestive.”
“It is a hypothetical question only, Your Honor,” Steve said, “for the purpose of impeachment.”
“It is an adroitly framed question,” Judge Dalrymple said dryly, “conveying an entire argument by inference.” He took a breath. “But it happens to be legal. So the objection is overruled. Let’s get on with it.”
The attorneys resumed their positions and the court reporter read the question to the witness.
Macklin shrugged. “Obviously, I can’t answer for what happened after I left the office.”
Steve Winslow smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Macklin. That’s all.”
6.
AS MARVIN LOWERY TOOK the witness stand, A.D.A. Pearson was actually rather pleased with how things had worked out..
Frank Fletcher had not made a good impression on the stand. He was too sharp and angular. Too cunning and conniving. He simply did not inspire trust.
Macklin would have been good, until he stubbed his toe by boasting about his detective prowess, laying himself wide open for the X-ray vision fiasco.
But Marvin Lowery was perfect. Middle-aged, roly-poly fat, with graying curly hair and kindly, almost twinkling eyes, the man inspired confidence. This was someone the jurors could relate to. This was someone they could trust. All in all, a good man to close with. A good anchor for the case.
Marvin Lowery was sworn in and testified with easy assurance to his position in the firm and his partnership with Mr. Fletcher.
“And were you present on Friday, April 30th, when detective Samuel Macklin came to the office?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Can you tell us what happened on that occasion?”
“Certainly. There had been shortages in petty cash. Frank and I had decided to hire a private detective.”
“When you say Frank, you mean Mr. Fletcher?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Go on.”
“Anyway, we’d decided to hire a private detective, and Frank—Mr. Fletcher—hired Samuel Macklin. Mr. Macklin came to our office.”
“On April 30th?”
“That’s right.”
“Around what time?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
“What happened then?”
“Well, Frank—Mr. Fletcher—”
“You can say Frank.”
“Thank you. Frank counted out twenty-five twenty dollar bills and handed them to Mr. Macklin. Mr. Macklin wrote down the serial numbers in his notebook.”
“What happened then?”
“Mr. Macklin gave them back, and Frank took the bills and put them in the petty cash box, and put the petty cash box in the petty cash drawer.”
“Did you see him do this?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Can you testify that it was the same bills Mr. Macklin gave him that he put in the petty cash drawer?”
“Absolutely.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I was paying attention. You have to understand, it was an upsetting thing. The thought that someone was stealing from us. I didn’t know if it was true, so I was particularly concerned with what was happening. I paid attention because it was important.”
Pearson nodded gravely. “I see,” he said. “Were you there when Mr. Macklin left that afternoon?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Was that before or after the defendant returned from lunch?”
“It was before.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. We didn’t want her to see him. We didn’t want her to know what was going on.”
“How long was it between the time Mr. Macklin left and the time the defendant returned from lunch?”
“I can’t be sure. I would say fifteen to twenty minutes, but that’s an approximation.”
“How do you base it?”
“Mr. Macklin got to our office around twelve-thirty. He had to write down the serial numbers on the bills. That took between five and ten minutes. When he was finished, Frank put the bills in the petty cash drawer and Mr. Macklin left. That was somewhere in the neighborhood of a quarter to one. And the defendant would have returned to the office somewhere in the neighborhood of one, when the lunch hour was over.”
“I see,” Pearson said. “And in that fifteen minute interval before the defendant returned from lunch—what were you doing then?”
“Talking to Frank.”
“The whole time?”
“Yes. The whole time.”
“Why was that?” Pearson held up his hand. “Let me rephrase that. Without telling us what Mr. Fletcher
said, which would be hearsay, can you tell us in general what you were talking about.”
“Of course. About Mr. Macklin and the money and the shortage in the petty cash drawer.”
“I see. So you were with Mr. Fletcher the entire time from when Mr. Macklin left until the defendant returned from lunch?”
“That’s right.”
“During that time, did he have occasion to go near the petty cash drawer?”
“No, he did not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. We were in his inner office. The cash drawer is in the outer office, in Miss Dearborn’s desk.”
“You were with him in his office when Miss Dearborn returned from lunch?”
“That’s right.”
“And what time did you leave the office that day?”
“Around five o’clock.”
“Was anyone with you when you left?”
“Yes. Mr. Fletcher.”
“The two of you left together?”
“That’s right.”
“Was there anyone in the office when you left?”
“Yes. Miss Dearborn. She closes up at five-thirty.”
Pearson nodded in satisfaction. “And when is the next time you returned to the office?”
“Monday morning.”
“That would be May 3rd?”
“That’s right.”
“What happened then?”
“I met Mr. Fletcher outside the office.”
“What time was that?”
“Approximately eight-thirty.”
“What did you do?”
“We waited for Mr. Macklin. He arrived about five minutes later and the three of us went up and opened the office.”
“What did you do then?”
“Looked in Miss Dearborn’s desk, took out the cash box and inspected the petty cash.”
“Who actually took out the cash box?”
“Frank. Mr. Fletcher.”
“And what did he do then?”
“He counted the money. He told us—”
Pearson held up his hand. “Huh uh, Mr. Lowery. I’m sorry, but you’re not allowed to say what he told you. But after he counted the money, what did you do?”
“I counted the money.”
“You counted it yourself?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you discover?”
“There was a hundred dollars missing.”
“A hundred dollars?”