Desperate Measures (43 page)

“I am trying to clarify—”

Judge Mac motioned both attorneys, beckoning them to the bench. There, with his microphone turned off, he leaned forward and said to Novak, “You and I both know as well as Ms. Holloway does that she is going to tear into every single assertion this witness made in his direct testimony. As there is no jury to impress, and I haven't been impressed for many years, you might as well can it, Mr. Novak. Let her get on with it, and if she pushes past the point of legitimacy, then you may object to some purpose.”

“Will you recognize that point?” Barbara murmured to Novak.

“You waded in, Jase,” Judge Mac said. “Now the water's deeper. Swim with it. Or we could be here the rest of the week with this one witness.” He waved them away and said, “Overruled.”

When Barbara turned back toward her table, she saw Alex duck his head, and she thought,
Good God! He can hear every word up here!

Frank had returned to his seat, and she saw Lt. Hoggarth sitting in the back row of the spectators.

“Dr. Wrigley,” she said then, facing the witness stand once more, “I'll repeat my question. When did you tell Ms. Franz about the diabetes study?”

“A few days before the meeting,” he said. “My wife and I were shopping at the Fifth Street Market and she was trying on some clothes. I was having a coffee in the courtyard when Ms. Franz came from a store and saw me. She joined me and we talked a few minutes.”

Very good, Barbara wanted to say, slippery and quick.

“Did your wife meet her that day?”

“No. Ms. Franz left before my wife came out of the shops.”

“All right. So on the way to her car after the committee meeting, she filled you in with her medical history, and even though you're not a medical doctor, you were able to evaluate her condition and conclude that her diabetes was well controlled. Is that what you're telling the court?”

“Yes, it is,” he said.

She walked to her table and picked up a brochure, returned to the witness stand with it. “Do you recognize this brochure, Dr. Wrigley?”

He said yes, it was handed out by the clinic.

“This brochure lists the various studies your group has done: heart conditions, diabetes, bipolar syndrome, autism, panic disorders, insomnia…. Are you able to evaluate prospective volunteers for all of these different conditions?”

Novak objected and was overruled.

“Some of them, yes.”

“Can you give the court the names of any other prospective volunteers whom you personally evaluated and either accepted or rejected?”

“I don't remember.”

“Ms. Franz volunteered for your study in the fall, two years ago. Is that right?”

“Yes. About then.”

“Did you attend a meeting of molecular biologists in Philadelphia that same fall?”

“Yes.”

“Did you stay at the Rutherford Hotel?”

“I don't remember.”

“Is this a copy of your bill for that stay?” she asked, handing him the bill. He said yes, and she passed it to Judge Mac and then to Novak to examine.

“Did your wife accompany you?”

“No.”

“Dr. Wrigley, your hotel bill is made out for you and your wife. Can you explain that?”

“No, I can't. It's a mistake. I was alone.”

She produced two more hotel bills for Dr. and Mrs. Wrigley, and he said they were both mistakes.

“You seem to have a hard time with hotels,” she said. “Did you protest at the time of the mistakes?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Were the bills corrected?”

“I assume so. I didn't check on them again. I'm not very good at keeping track of my credit cards.”

The last bill she produced was for a bed-and-breakfast inn in Astoria, Oregon. It was billed to Dr. and Mrs. Wrigley.

“My wife planned to go with me, just a weekend retreat, but at the last minute our daughter caught a cold and she decided to stay home with the child. I didn't bother to change the reservation,” he explained coolly.

“I see. And if the innkeeper recalls that a Mrs. Wrigley was present for the breakfasts, can you account for that?”

Novak objected on the grounds that it was hypothetical and improper cross-examination. He was sustained.

“Did Hilde Franz turn up at any of the conferences when you were on the program?”

“Yes. I thought it was a coincidence at first, and that's when my wife said Hilde was stalking me.”

“When was that, Dr. Wrigley? After Philadelphia, or Detroit? Or was it after Los Angeles?”

“Detroit, I think,” he said. His eyes had narrowed, and his lips had grown tighter and tighter. She wondered that he could speak at all.

“That was in January, eighteen months before Hilde Franz's death. During the following eighteen months, after you had been warned that she was stalking you, were there occasions when you were alone with her?”

“Yes,” he said. “She asked me for a ride a few times and I agreed, simply to avoid an awkward scene in front of other people.”

“If she asked you for a ride in front of other people, do you recall who they might have been?”

“I don't remember,” he said. “I just know we weren't alone when she asked.”

“How often during those eighteen months did you visit Hilde Franz at her home?”

“I never visited her!” he snapped. “Once or twice she asked me to come in, once to look at an error message on her computer monitor, once to carry books inside for her.”

Barbara smiled slightly. “So you could evaluate her medical condition, be her computer expert, and also act as a porter to carry her books. Any other occasions?”

“No!”

“When was the last time you were in her house?”

“I don't know the date. Late Mayor early June. She had many things to carry and I gave her a lift; she asked me to take some books in for her. I did that, then left.”

“Was that following a committee meeting?”

He hesitated a moment, then said, “No. It was late in the afternoon, not at night. I happened to run into her in town.”

“Dr. Wrigley,” she said, “I'm trying to understand the situation you've described. You say your wife warned you that Hilde Franz was stalking you and at one time even recommended that you go to the police about it, yet for the next eighteen months you continued to act in a friendly manner to her. You gave her lifts, helped her out in various ways, had conversations with her, accepted telephone calls. You did not report her to the authorities. Did you and your wife have additional conversations about Hilde Franz after your wife said she was stalking you?”

“Yes. We discussed the situation.”

“Was she satisfied with your decision not to report Ms. Franz to the police?”

“Yes. She understood that it would ruin Hilde, and we agreed there was no threat, just a nuisance.”

“Did you discuss any of the literature about stalkers, that they often do pose a threat to the person they're stalking or to that person's family?”

“No.”

She regarded him for a moment, but before she could ask the next question, Judge Mac held up his hand.

“I think we might have a recess at this time. We will resume at one-thirty.”

At Frank's house, Frank said in a low voice to Barbara, “The police haven't told the D.A.'s office anything yet about their investigation of Hilde's death. Hoggarth asked Judge Mac for an early recess so he could get in a word with us. He would appreciate it if you don't blow the case in open court.”

She nodded and put down her briefcase and purse, then said, “I need to walk a little bit. I won't be long.”

Will started to follow her. “Mind if I—”

Frank caught his arm and shook his head. Barbara apparently had not even heard; she walked out the front door. “She needs a little thinking time,” Frank said to Will. “Now what's for lunch? Salad, soup, sandwiches?”

Will grinned. “She's pulling the most genteel dissection job I've ever seen. He isn't even quite aware of how much blood he's already lost.”

“Do you think his wife really will back him up?” Alex asked.

All three attorneys nodded. “Protecting the home front,” Will said, and Shelley said almost simultaneously, “Safeguarding the investment.”

Frank laughed and said, “Both. But we might never know. She's in California and can't be called as a witness, not to verify the testimony of another witness. Let's eat.”

When Barbara returned, he would put a sandwich in her hand, a glass of milk nearby, but he often worried, and even half believed, that food consumed without awareness seldom did the body much good.

Then, back in court, Barbara felt as if the interlude had not occurred; it was like a blip, an eye blink, without duration or consequence. She picked up exactly where she had left off.

“Dr. Wrigley, in your earlier testimony you stated that you spoke for the last time with Hilde Franz two or three days before her death. Can you be more specific about when that conversation took place? For instance, what time of day was it?”

“I don't recall precisely. I know I was at the clinic working when she called. It was after dinner and before ten. I don't know what day it was.”

“All right. How long was that phone call?”

“I don't know. At least ten minutes, perhaps longer.”

“Let's try to narrow down the day it occurred. Gus Marchand was killed on the evening of June ninth, a Friday. No details of his death were released until the following day. Did you speak with her on Saturday?”

“No. I was out of town Saturday and Sunday.”

“That brings us to Monday. Was it on Monday night?”

He shrugged. “As I said, I don't recall which night it was.”

“Were you at a faculty reception and dinner with the university president on Monday night, June twelfth?”

“Sometime in early June,” he said after a moment.

“In fact, weren't you singled out and praised for work that your graduate students had done that gained them national recognition?”

“Yes.”

“And that was Monday, June twelfth. Is that correct?”

“It might have been,” he said.

“Let's try to pin this down,” she said equably, then walked to her table and picked up a copy of the university newspaper. After returning to the witness stand, she handed it to Wrigley. “Do you recognize this newspaper?”

It was a tabloid, easily recognized from across the room with the picture of the fighting duck mascot on the front page.

He admitted knowing what it was, and she turned to an inside page with an article about the reception, the attendees, and the special recognitions mentioned.

Then she said, “Do you agree that the reception and dinner were on Monday, June twelfth?”

He shrugged. “Yes. As I said many times­—”

“‘Yes' is quite sufficient, Dr. Wrigley,” she said. “Now, Tuesday. Did you have a meeting on Tuesday, June thirteenth, with the doctors who were planning to start a new drug trial in the coming week?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I think it was then.”

“Is that answer a yes?” she asked sharply.

“Yes. I think so.”

“Do we have to pinpoint that with your schedule and list of doctors?”

“It was yes. We met on Tuesday.”

“What time did the meeting start and end?”

“From about eight until close to ten-thirty.”

“Did you meet a doctor as he arrived, unlock the door, and enter with him?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”

“And did you and the others leave together when the meeting ended?”

“Yes.”

“Did you leave that meeting for ten minutes or longer to take a personal telephone call?”

“No, of course not.”

“So we come to Wednesday. Did you work at the clinic on Wednesday night?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a night watchman at your clinic building?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see him that night, Wednesday, June fourteenth?”

He hesitated again, then said, “I think so.”

“In fact, as you were leaving, did he comment that you should get more sleep?”

“I don't recall.”

“All right.” She walked to her table and picked up a restaurant bill and receipt. “Do you know what these are?”

“No. I never saw them before.”

“This is a receipt for dinner for ten people at Mama Mia's Tuscany Kitchen, a restaurant in Springfield. The receipt is charged to a credit card belonging to Hilde Franz. The reservation, as stated on the bill, was for seven o'clock on Wednesday, June fourteenth. That night Hilde Franz celebrated a successful school year by taking her staff to dinner. The bill states the arrival time of the party, and the departure time. They were there from six-forty-five until ten minutes after ten.” She handed the bill to the judge.

After Judge Mac studied the receipt and bill closely, Novak glanced at both, and Barbara turned once more to Wrigley. “Did she call you from the restaurant that night?”

“Probably not.”

Judge Mac cleared his throat, and Wrigley said, “No.”

“Did you speak with Ms. Franz on Thursday, June fifteenth?”

“It might have been then. I just don't remember dates that well.”

“Dr. Wrigley, do you mean to tell the court that you could have spoken to Ms. Franz on the evening she died, a few hours before her death, and not remember?” She did not try to mask the disbelief in her voice.

“I just know I talked to her. I've said over and over I don't know when it was.”

“No,” Barbara said quietly. “You said it was two or three days before her death. Now you're saying it could have been on the same evening she died.”

Judge Mac rapped his gavel. “Ms. Holloway, please do not engage in a dialogue with the witness. And, Dr. Wrigley, please confine your testimony to the questions being asked.”