One Good Deed(120)

“I think I might be able to help with that.” Archer went back to the table, picked up his hat and took the letter out of the liner. He held it up to Brooks. “I’m going to get her to identify this and then you can take a look.” He didn’t wait for Brooks to respond. He walked back to the witness stand.

He held the letter out. “You know your mother’s handwriting?”

“Of course I do.”

“I found this letter in the back of the picture frame that held the photo I showed you.” He held it up for her to see. “Is that Isabel Tuttle’s handwriting?”

Jackie stared at the letter for a few seconds and then nodded. “Yes, it is.”

Archer took the letter over to Brooks and let him read it. He looked shaken and handed the letter back to Archer.

“You okay with me asking her about this, Mr. Brooks?”

Brooks seemed to waver for a moment but said, “Go ahead, Archer. I…I think this needs to come out.”

“Thanks.”

He returned with it to the witness stand.

“Do you want to read this letter for the jury?” asked Archer.

“No, I do not.”

“Okay, but to sum up what it says, your mother was going to divorce your father, leave, and take you with her. She was doing this because he had physically and mentally abused you and your mother for many years, and she was not going to allow him to do that anymore. And here’re the last lines of her letter.” Archer held it up and read, “‘And, Lucas, if anything happens to me, you will have done it because you’ve threatened to kill me so many times, I’ve lost count. But if you end up killing me before I can leave with Jackie, rest assured that my beautiful daughter will know what really happened, and she will be free of you at last. May you rot in hell, you sick bastard.’”

Archer lowered the letter and then left it on the rail of the witness box. He stood there in silence while Jackie tried to compose herself.

Archer waited patiently while she did so. When her tears began to flow more freely, he handed her his handkerchief. She used it to dry her eyes. When she gave it back, he gripped her hand for a moment. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and probing.

A few seconds later Archer said slowly, “So your father never showed up the night he was murdered to meet at your house as was arranged?”

She glanced up at him and held his gaze. “Not while I was there, no.”

“That makes sense, since he later ended up dead at his place. But you did go out that night, didn’t you? When he didn’t show up?”

“How do—”

“It was the mud on your Nash. That meant it was driven during that hard rain.” Archer glanced at the judge. “Mr. Shaw took photos of it and wrote notes about it, so it’s included in the record.” He turned back to Jackie. “You went over to the Pittlemans’, didn’t you? Around eleven or so?”

Jackie looked hesitant and glanced around the room. “I—” Here, she faltered.

But right away Archer said, “You went over there to have it out with Mrs. Pittleman, about her husband, about a lot of things. Only you couldn’t see her. Isn’t that right? You two didn’t meet?” When she didn’t answer, he leaned in closer, held her gaze. “Isn’t that right? You two didn’t meet? All you need to tell us is the truth about that, Jackie. Just that.”

One of her hands was clenched on the box’s rail. Archer put his hand over hers and gently squeezed it. Her guarded and suspicious look fell away as their gazes comingled. “Yes, that’s right. I went over there, it’s true. But I didn’t see her that night. And that is the truth.”

He removed his hand and looked at Richmond. “No more questions, Judge. And I’d like to thank Miss Tuttle for coming back here and telling us the real deal.”

With a questioning look, Jackie got up from the witness stand. Archer put out a hand to assist her. As their flesh touched, more was communicated between them than a physical helping hand.

Jackie walked down the aisle with her head held high, and perhaps a lightness in her heart that had not been there for a long time.





Chapter 50



BROOKS PRESENTED PHYSICAL EVIDENCE of the two men’s deaths, elicited the testimony of some police officials, and methodically questioned several other witnesses with knowledge of the affairs.

Then he called Marjorie Pittleman to the stand.

She took her time getting there and then settled in, her gloved hands placed primly on her broad lap and her wide-brimmed, old-fashioned hat with a bird attached set at an angle on her head.

“Mrs. Pittleman, you are the deceased’s widow?”

“I am.”

“And you are aware that your husband hired the defendant to collect a debt from Mr. Lucas Tuttle?”

“I am.”

“Was your husband happy about the defendant’s work?”

“Not at all. He was most displeased. I could see that Mr. Archer was very worried that Hank would do something to him if he couldn’t get that car from Lucas Tuttle.”

“Did Mr. Archer visit you on other occasions?”

“Yes, once with Miss Tuttle and twice with that detective fellow, Shaw.”

“Do you think Mr. Archer had a problem with your husband and Miss Tuttle’s relationship?”