One Good Deed(121)

Archer stood. “Objection, that calls for speculation.”

The judge looked at him severely. “Considering you been up here basically testifying without once putting your hand on the Bible, you can just sit down and keep quiet.” He smacked his gavel and nodded at the witness. “You go right ahead, Marjorie.”

The woman smiled and said, “I think Mr. Archer was very fond of Jackie Tuttle. I mean, what young man wouldn’t be? You heard that they were fooling around in his hotel room right before my poor Hank was murdered. We all know what that means. And I’ve heard tell he’s been to her house early in the morning and maybe sleeping over there for all I know.” She shook her head and looked repulsed by the thought.

“Perhaps the only thing that stood in the way of Mr. Archer being with Miss Tuttle was your husband?”

Marjorie took out a hanky and blew her nose. “So I believe.” She glared at Archer. “But if I were her, I would watch myself. He was flirting with my maid right in front of me.”

“My, my,” said Brooks, looking appalled. “Anything else?”

“I can tell you that Hank came into my room one night and told me that if anything happened to him, to tell the police to look at Mr. Archer. He said he was one dangerous man. He took a gun out when Mr. Archer came over by himself the first time because he told me he was afraid for his life. You all heard that Mr. Archer had done a lot of killing overseas. And the police told me that he’d just gotten out of prison in Tartupa.” She shivered a bit. “I can’t believe I had that man in my house.”

“I think you were quite fortunate, Miss Pittleman. No further questions.”

Brooks retreated to his table, and Marjorie started to get up.

“Hold on there, Mrs. Pittleman,” said Archer, coming forward. “Now I get to ask my questions of you.”

Marjorie looked up at the judge in a bewildered fashion.

Richmond nodded solemnly and said apologetically, “I’m afraid he’s right.” He glared at Archer. “For once.”

Archer walked up to the witness box as she sat back down, looking very irritated. “So you think your husband was scared of me?”

“I do.”

“Is that why he had that nickel-plated Smith and Wesson belly gun with the hair trigger on the table when I came in?”

“Yes!”

“You know where that gun is now?”

Marjorie, who had looked like she was falling asleep, appeared startled. “The gun?”

“Yeah, where is it?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Why is that important?” Brooks protested.

“We can come back to that,” said Archer. “Now, you knew your husband was dying of cancer, right?”

“As I told you, I didn’t believe that.”

This brought more gasps from the crowd, but Archer plowed on. “And that he was a gambler who owed two hundred thousand dollars to the boys in Las Vegas?”

More gasps.

“Yes.”

“And that you and your husband tried to defraud the insurance company by taking out a half-million-dollar policy, even though you both knew he was dying?”

“That has nothing to do with why we’re here,” she retorted. “And I didn’t defraud anyone, young man!”

“And that your husband’s business bills were being unpaid and that he owed a ton of money to vendors and creditors. You knew that?”

“Only because that detective told me so,” she snapped. “For all I know it was a load of hooey.”

“So maybe your husband wasn’t as rich as he made himself out to be. And then neither will you be.”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“Is that right? Why’s that?”

She looked imperiously at him. “I may be a woman, Mr. Archer, but I do have a head for business, though Hank didn’t think so.”

Archer reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the sheaf of papers he’d found in the crate at the trucking warehouse. “Speaking of business, would you identify this for the court?”

Brooks shot to his feet. “I have not seen this document, Your Honor.”

“Oh, you will, Mr. Brooks, I promise you that,” said Archer.

Brooks slowly sat back down as the judge eyed Archer. “Go on ahead, but this is pretty unorthodox, son.”

“Well, not being a lawyer and all, I’m doing the best I can, Judge.”

Archer gave the papers to Marjorie. She looked down at the document like it was a load of dung heaped in her hands.

“Where did you get that?” she snarled.

“That’s not important. What is important is that this is a contract between you and Lucas Tuttle. It has both your names and signatures on the last page.” Archer turned to the page and held it up for her to see. “Now, do you want to tell the court what’s in here or do you want me to do it?”

She shook her head and remained silent.

“Okay, not to beat about the bush, you agreed to sell all of your husband’s businesses and assets to Lucas Tuttle for a half-million dollars, but you get to keep your big house and a bit of the land around it.”

The crowd started murmuring at this and the judge did nothing to quell it. He was too busy listening to this exchange.