One Good Deed(115)

Brooks looked over at the jury and saw them hanging on every word of this testimony.

“And what was Mr. Pittleman’s reaction to Mr. Archer having spent the money?”

“He told Archer if he didn’t get the car back, he was going to make Archer pay somehow.”

“How did Mr. Archer take that?”

“Like anyone would have. He was worried about it.”

The jury and the crowd started mumbling about this until the judge restored quiet with smacks of his gavel.

“Thank you for making things so clear, Miss Tuttle. Now, did there come a time when Mr. Archer met with your father again?”

“Yes, I let him drive my car out there to meet with him.”

“And what happened?”

“Archer convinced my father to pay back the debt.”

“How much money did he come back with?”

“Um, five thousand dollars plus another fifteen hundred dollars in interest.”

“Wasn’t Mr. Archer paid as well?”

“Yes. My father also paid him an additional three hundred dollars as his commission.”

These large sums caused whistles and musings from those gathered until the raps of the judge’s gavel ended the distraction.

“So just to be clear, this three hundred dollars paid by your father was in addition to the amounts promised to Mr. Archer by Mr. Pittleman?”

“Yes.”

“Do debtors ordinarily pay the men collecting their debts?”

“Well, I thought it was strange. But it happened.”

“But you don’t know that it did, Miss Tuttle. You only had Mr. Archer’s word for it that your father paid him the three hundred dollars. Isn’t that correct?”

“But why would he lie about that?”

Brooks glanced at the jury. “Oh, I think most people could think of a few reasons.”

He refocused on Jackie. “Now, your father was murdered the very same day that Mr. Archer went out there, correct?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Wasn’t his safe also emptied?” asked Brooks, interrupting.

“His safe?”

“Yes. His safe was cleaned out. Can you tell us what was in it?”

“No. The last time I was there, the safe had nothing in it.”

“But what did Mr. Archer tell you was in the safe?”

Jackie glanced at Archer, but he looked down at his hands.

She looked back at Brooks, who was waiting patiently for her answer.

“Miss Tuttle?” he prompted. “Didn’t Mr. Archer tell you what was in the safe?”

She nodded but said nothing.

“Can you share what you know with the court?” he said pleasantly but firmly.

She sighed and said, “He told me that it was full of cash, stock and bond certificates, and even gold bars.”

“And where did this wealth come from?”

“He said that my father had told him that the reports of oil on his land had come back favorably, and that was where the money had come from, with more to follow once they commenced drilling.”

“And you weren’t aware of this until he told you?”

“That was the first that I had heard of it. I had been gone from home for a year.”

The crowd once more verbally fussed over all this until the judge’s gavel smacked down again.

“And then?” prompted Brooks.

“And then I went out to my father’s house with Mr. Irving Shaw, the detective on the case. He had the safe opened, but it was empty.”

“What else did Mr. Shaw tell you? About your car specifically and traces of things inside it?”

Brooks had now moved so that Jackie’s sight line to Archer was blocked. “Mr. Shaw said that the trunk of my car had residue of gold dust and the imprint on the carpet of the gold bars.”

Brooks said to the jury, “Although unfortunately Lieutenant Shaw is still in the hospital and cannot be here to testify, we have photographs and other evidence of all this, which will be entered into evidence.” He turned back to Jackie. “Again, to be clear, you had given Mr. Archer permission to use your car that day to drive out to your father’s home to meet with him?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So to clarify for the jury, Mr. Archer went to see your father, collected the debt, and your father ended up dead that very same day. Then his safe was emptied and the wealth from the safe was placed in the car that Mr. Archer was driving.” He paused. “That is correct, isn’t it?”

“That is correct,” she said quietly.

Brooks glanced over at the jury. He smiled because every single one of them was nodding and, Brooks could tell, connecting the dots. “And even though we never found the murder weapon, a gun can easily be disposed of. And a former soldier like Mr. Archer would no doubt know how to do so.”

Archer didn’t bother objecting to this or looking at the twelve men who would decide his fate; he kept his gaze on Jackie.

Brooks continued. “And the, let’s call it, treasure that Mr. Archer told you that he had seen in the safe? That meant that it must’ve been opened by your father while he was there?”

“Yes.”

“And, again, just to clarify, all this treasure was then loaded into the trunk of your car? The car that Mr. Archer had been driving that very day?”