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"I wasn't sure I could control myself."
"Interesting. You're afraid of losing your temper where your husband's transgressions are involved?"
"Weren't you?"
"Yes. But I had an advantage. Melvin taught me to shoot a gun. Big mistake on his part. I was d.a.m.n good, and he knew it. You never want to cross an angry woman with a gun." Cora smiled, leaned in confidentially. "So, I'm wondering if Melvin learned from his mistake."
"What do you mean?"
"Did he teach you to shoot?"
"I don't see how that's relevant."
"So he did. You happen to own a gun?"
"No, I do not."
"If you do, it's easy enough to prove. They have to be registered, there are licenses involved. Which means you don't have a legal gun. It is my understanding from friends in the police department that the gun that killed Roger Randolph was an unlicensed gun, an illegal gun, stolen from a sporting goods store. If that were your gun, there would be no record."
The witness said nothing.
"Is that your gun?"
"No, it is not."
"Going back to your surveillance of the plaintiff. You set up shop at the same motel as the plaintiff, followed him around. You saw him take the witness Lilly Clemson out to dinner."
"That's right."
"Did he also take the witness Roger Randolph out to dinner?"
"Of course not."
"Why?"
"He's a man."
"So the only conversation he had with Roger Randolph was a week ago Wednesday afternoon when he called on him in the bank?"
"No. He also called on him in his house."
There was a rumbling in the court.
Judge Hobbs banged the gavel.
"Now," Cora said, "if we could avoid another outburst, since Judge Hobbs is rather touchy today, could you try to soft-pedal the fact it was the night Randolph died?"
Despite Cora's admonition, there were gasps in the court.
"Is that right?" Judge Hobbs said ominously.
"Yes, it is, Your Honor. But we really shouldn't be making such a big deal of it. People call on people. People die. It's not necessarily cause and effect." Cora turned back to the witness. "In any case, you saw him go into Randolph's house on the night of the murder?"
"That's right."
"And you saw him go into Lilly Clemson's apartment on the night of her murder?"
"That's right."
"In both cases he was there."
"Yes, he was."
"And so were you."
"Huh?"
"You were there. At the scene of the crime. On the night of both murders."
"What are you implying?"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm just asking questions. As the judge pointed out, some of them are more relevant than others. Do you do KenKen?"
The change of subject was so abrupt, the witness blinked. "What?"
"KenKen. The new number puzzles. They're all the rage. They even have them in The New York Times, right next to the crossword puzzles. Can you do them?"
"Why?"
"Interesting response. Implies you do. If you didn't, you'd say no."
"Yes, I can do puzzles. I still don't know why you're asking."
"Because puzzles were found at the scene of the crime. Pointing to Melvin's guilt." Cora frowned, shook her head, deploring. "Which bothers me greatly. I have yet to hear an adequate explanation for why a murderer would leave puzzles at the scene of the crime that pointed to himself as the killer. It's really only the sort of thing someone would do if they wanted to frame someone for a crime. Which still doesn't work for me, because it's such a clumsy frame. However, aside from the puzzles at the crime scenes, there are also the puzzles slipped under the door of Melvin and Bambi's room at the motel. Seeing as how you're staying at the same motel, I'd be hard-pressed to think of anyone with a better opportunity to do that."
"I didn't."
"Yeah, but your denial is a self-serving declaration, of no evidentiary value. You'd need an independent witness to establish you didn't do it. Anyway, the puzzles laid on Melvin and Bambi led to the recovery of the gun. And not just any gun, but one which I understand ballistics proved conclusively was the gun that killed banker Roger Randolph."
Mrs. Crabtree said nothing. She sat tight-lipped, glowered at Cora.
"Do you have a laptop?"
"Why?"
"Once again!" Cora said. "No wonder Melvin couldn't stand you. Your evasions are so transparent. I'm going to a.s.sume your answer was yes, and I'm going to tell you why. If you did compose those puzzles, I'm a.s.suming you had Crossword Compiler on your machine. You composed them on your laptop, hooked up to a printer, and printed them out. If those puzzles are on your laptop, you're a dead duck."
"I have a laptop. The puzzles aren't on it."
"I didn't think they were. Anyone smart enough to have thought up this whole scheme would be smart enough to destroy the evidence. I'm a.s.suming you deleted the puzzles and uninstalled Crossword Compiler. Which would be enough to thwart me. Or Chief Harper. Or even the guys at the crime lab. Well, bad news for you. I got a gang of computer nerds standing by who can find things on your laptop even after you delete them. So, where's your laptop? In your car?"
"No. It's in my motel room."
"Your Honor, I suggest the court stand in recess long enough to allow Chief Harper to escort the witness out to the Oakwood Motel and take possession of the laptop computer she has there."
Judge Hobbs blinked. "For what reason? This is not a murder trial. This is an alimony hearing."
"All right, so let me put it another way. We've been going at this for a long time now. What do you say we take a little break?"
Judge Hobbs looked over to where Chief Harper was conferring with District Attorney Henry Firth. The prosecutor caught the judge's eye with a stern look that made his case more eloquently than any summation.
"Very well," Judge Hobbs said. "Court will stand in recess for one hour."
CHAPTER.
55.
Chief Harper was taking no chances. He didn't follow Evelyn Crabtree back to the motel, he drove her there in his police car. He pulled up in front of her unit and was right behind her when she opened the door.
"Okay, where is it?"
She pointed to the desk. "There."
"Is it plugged in?"
"No, it's charged."
"Good."
Harper reached in his back pocket, pulled out an evidence bag. He unfolded it and, touching the computer only with his handkerchief, maneuvered it into the bag.
"Is that really necessary?" Mrs. Crabtree said.
"I have no idea. But if I don't do it, some smart lawyer will ask me why I didn't."
"There's nothing on it."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
"You don't know Melvin."
Harper ushered her out of the motel room, put the evidence in the back of the cruiser. "You ride up front."
"I rode up front on the way over."
"And you're riding up front again. On the way over, there was no evidence in the backseat you might want to tamper with."
Harper pulled out of the motel parking lot and headed back to town.
Cora Felton and Dan Finley watched them go. They were in Cora's convertible, parked just out of sight around the bend.
"I don't know what I'm doing here," Dan said.
"I'm paying you back for getting me that car rental plate."
"By making me sit here for an hour when I could be having coffee and a scone?"
"I'd like one, too. We didn't have time to stop."
"Why not?"
"We wouldn't be able to swear the chief took the witness back to the motel."
"I would think the chief would be capable of establis.h.i.+ng that himself. Or do you think he needs corroboration? Is the woman apt to lie?"
Cora sighed. "Any woman married to Melvin is apt to lie. Ah, here's someone."
A car pulled into the motel parking lot.
"That rental plate look familiar?"
"It's Melvin's."
"Yeah. Since he's in jail, I think we can a.s.sume it's the bimbo. Sure seems in a hurry, doesn't she?"
"Well, she's only got an hour. Probably going to change into another outfit."
"Why, Dan Finley," Cora said. "Been noticing the young strumpet, have you? Well, she's closer your age than Melvin's."
Dan was blus.h.i.+ng splendidly. "I a.s.sure you, I was only-"
"Keep it. Here she comes again.... Uh-oh, she's turning this way."
"Think she'll see us?"
"If you keep your head down, she may think it's just a parked car."
Bambi didn't see them. She zoomed on by, rocketed down the road.
"Okay, flatfoot," Cora said. "Here we go. If we get stopped, you pay the fines."
"What?"