One Good Deed(122)
Marjorie said, “So what? I had every right to do so.”
“But on page six, paragraph H, it says that the purchase price can be reduced by any unpaid debts owed by your husband to others, personal or otherwise. Even if Mr. Tuttle didn’t have to pay these debts.” He paused. “I don’t know much about contracts and such, but that sounds unusual. Did it to you?”
“I…I…”
“I’ll take that as a no. Did you even have a lawyer look at this thing?”
When she didn’t answer, he said, “I’ll take that as another no. Now, when you signed this agreement, you didn’t know that your husband had all these debts, did you? Because Mr. Shaw only told you after you signed the agreement with Mr. Tuttle. Because I saw him coming out of your house with these papers before we went in to see you.”
Marjorie merely stared stonily at him.
“Now, I’ll take that as a yes. Mr. Shaw had all the numbers down very accurately. So when I add up what your husband owed in debts, including the gambling debts, I figure that you were due basically nothing from Mr. Tuttle for that vast empire that your husband built, while you got stuck with all the bills.” He paused and added, “I’d say Mr. Tuttle played you for the biggest sucker in the world.”
He looked at her sitting there, seething in the witness chair.
When he glanced up at Richmond and then over at Brooks, both men were staring openmouthed at the woman.
“When Mr. Shaw and I came to see you and tell you about the debts, you got upset about the gambling, but not too upset. But when he told you about the unpaid business bills that were much larger, then I could see you were truly bowled over. And you glanced at the door. The same door Lucas Tuttle had probably walked out of not that long ago. See, I think you already knew about the gambling debts, but you had no idea about all the other money he owed. Now, since you didn’t understand that part of the contract I just read out, you thought with the half-million bucks from Tuttle you could pay off the Vegas boys and live happily ever after in your big house. But you couldn’t do that with the other debts, they were far too high, even if Mr. Tuttle paid you the full half-million. And then when Mr. Shaw told you about the insurance policy, you got really agitated and said you would fight it. Like you testified here, you just flat out said you didn’t believe the doctor and that would somehow make it okay for the insurance company to shell out all that dough to you. I think you were desperate at that point and were looking for anything to hang your hat on, even playing the poor old widow role and hoping that would be enough to shame the insurance company into giving you something. And you did that because it suddenly occurred to you that you needed that insurance money. And then you put the idea into Mr. Shaw’s head that maybe it was the Vegas boys who had killed your husband. It was a real good performance. I mean, you shoulda gone into the pictures, ma’am. But in the end, it didn’t fool me. I don’t go to the pictures much, but I do read a lot of detective novels.”
Archer walked over and handed the contract to Brooks before returning to the witness box. “But that’s just money. That’s really not why we’re here. Now, when I went over to your house one time, that Manuel fellow who works for you told me something.” Archer pointed to the back of the courtroom where Manuel sat looking nervous. “I spoke with Manuel in preparing for my trial and, if need be, he’ll testify. Now, he said that Jackie Tuttle came to your house on the night Lucas Tuttle died, just as Miss Tuttle testified that she did.”
“So what?” Marjorie said sharply.
“Only he said she couldn’t meet with you. And in fact Miss Tuttle also testified that no meeting took place that night between you two.”
Marjorie looked blankly at him. “Again, so?”
“Couldn’t. That’s the word Manuel used. I wondered why. Even if you were asleep, they could always wake you up. The only way you couldn’t meet with Jackie Tuttle is if you weren’t there. And if you weren’t there, I wonder where you and that big Cadillac Coupe de Ville were on the night Lucas Tuttle died. Care to tell us?”
Marjorie looked exceedingly put out by all of this. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This whole thing is ridiculous. I’m saying nothing more. Nothing more, you…you vile, disgusting criminal! I hope when they hang you, it takes you a long time to die!”
Archer turned to Richmond. “Your Honor, I got one more witness to call.”
“Does that mean you’re finished with Mrs. Pittleman?”
“Oh, no, she can sit right there.”
“But where will your next witness sit?”
Archer slapped the rail of the witness box. “Right here.”
Brooks rose. “And who is this witness?”
“That would be Mr. Lucas Tuttle,” said Archer.
A gasp went up from the courtroom and was immediately followed by the collective murmurings of speculative and excited conversation.
“Excuse me?” bellowed Brooks, even as Richmond slammed down his fresh gavel repeatedly to quiet the crowd.
Brooks exclaimed, “The man is dead, Mr. Archer. Unless you plan on holding some type of séance.”
“No, sir. But just because a man’s dead doesn’t mean he can’t be heard. You just have to have the right equipment.”
Archer turned and motioned to a uniformed sheriff sitting near the courtroom door. He rose and came forward carrying something.