The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(72)

“Ms Newton, my name is Tom McMurtrie. Rick Drake and I represent Ruth Ann Wilcox.” Tom grandly gestured with his arm at Rick and Ruth Ann. “You understand that we called you as a witness today, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now–” he rubbed his chin and looked at the jury “–why do you reckon we would do that?” His eyes remained locked on the jury. He had just broken two of his own cardinal rules. Number one, never ask an open-ended question. Exception: unless the answer can’t hurt you. Number two, never ask a question you don’t know the answer to. Exception: unless it doesn’t matter what the answer is, the question speaks for itself.

“I don’t know. I...” Wilma stopped.

“Maybe, oh, I don’t know, because we thought you might say something good for our case.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” Tom was incredulous. “You must think we’re stupid, Ms Newton.”

“Objection, your honor,” Tyler stood. “Counsel is being argumentative and badgering the witness.”

“Your honor, I’m allowed a thorough and sifting cross examination. I’m also allowed to question this witness’ credibility.”

“Overruled,” Judge Cutler said.

Tom returned his gaze to Wilma. “Ms Newton, if we had known you were gonna come in here and testify that the defendant was good to Dewey, treated Dewey well, and had Dewey on a reasonable schedule, why... we’d have to be out of our minds to put you on the stand, right?”

“Well...”

“Answer the question, Ms Newton,” Tom insisted.

“I don’t know. Like I said earlier, Mr Drake wanted me to say that Dewey’s schedule was crazy, and I told him I wouldn’t do it.” She was beginning to look a little flustered. Her face was turning red.

Good, Tom thought. Not getting under your skin, am I?

Tom walked down the jury rail. He could tell all eyes were on him. Cross examination is about the lawyer. You’re the star. You want the jury to be watching you. Paying attention to you. He had preached it to his kids. Now he was doing it.

“You told him you wouldn’t do it.”

“Yes.”

“And you were clear about it.”

“Crystal,” she said, glaring at Tom.

Tom walked all the way over to the counsel table and got within a few feet of Rick.

“So, let me get this straight. You told Mr Drake...” Tom placed his hands on the counsel table and leaned to within a few inches of Rick’s face.

“... I... will... not... testify... that... Dewey’s... schedule... was crazy, right?”

“Well, I don’t know if I was that...”

“Clear? You just said you were crystal clear, didn’t you?” Tom took a few steps away from the table toward Wilma. He was twenty feet away.

“Yes.”

“You told him you would not testify that Dewey’s driving schedule was crazy, right?” Tom edged closer. Fifteen feet.

“Yes.”

“You told him you would not testify that Dewey’s schedule forced him to speed, right?” Still closer. Ten feet.

“Right.”

“You told him you would not say anything bad about Willistone, right?” Five feet.

“Yes. That’s right.” Wilma had a scared look on her face.

“And you were crystal clear, right?” Two feet.

“Yes.”

“Yet, despite how crystal clear you say you were, Mr Drake put you on the stand today.” The Professor had stopped walking and resumed the forty-five-degree angle between himself, Newton and the jury.

“Yes.”

“Ma’am, is it not fair to say that if you were as crystal clear as you say you were with Rick Drake, then he’d have to be the dumbest person on the face of the earth to have put you on the stand.” Tom’s eyes turned to the jury. It didn’t matter what the answer was.

“I don’t know why Mr Drake called me to the stand. I’m not a lawyer.”

Tom saw the opening he was waiting for.

“What do you do for a living, Ms Newton?” Tom saw that her face had turned red.

“I’m a waitress. At the Sands Restaurant in Boone’s Hill.”

“That’s where your first meeting with Rick occurred, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, it wasn’t just you and Rick in this meeting, was it?” Tom rubbed his chin.

“No, there was a woman with him.”

Tom looked at the jury. “And her name was Dawn Murphy, correct?”

“I know her first name was Dawn. I can’t remember her last.”

Tom walked to the counsel table, reached inside his briefcase, and pulled out the face book he used when he taught his Evidence class.

“Professor, what are you doing?” Rick whispered, leaning his head over so that the jury couldn’t see him. “Dawn...”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tom whispered back. Then he returned to the witness stand.

“Forgive me, Ms Newton, but I used to be a law professor, and Dawn Murphy was in my class. I want to show you a picture of her in the law-school directory, so that I know we’re on the same page.” Tom pointed to Dawn’s picture with the words “Dawn Murphy, 26 years old, Elba, Alabama” underneath it. “Is that the woman you saw with Rick Drake at the Sands restaurant?”