Sleight of Hand (21 page)

Chapter 31

Two more upstanding community leaders testified the next morning attesting to Jay Wilkins's virtue. Wally passed Barbara a note: "Is the Pope on the witness list?" She suppressed her grin and asked the witnesses the same two questions she had asked the day before. Was either of them a personal friend of Jay Wilkins? She got the same answers: No.

After the midmorning break Dodgson called John Levinson, the general manager of the dealership.

"Was Mr. Wilkins a fair employer?" Dodgson asked.

"Yes. As long as you did your job and followed the rules he left you alone."

"Was he generally on the job? I mean, was he an absentee employer, or right there doing his own work?"

"He was almost always there. And when he wasn't, we kept in touch every day, either by phone or by e-mail. He wanted to know what was going on all the time. He kept a close watch and a close ear on the operations." His tone was completely neutral, revealing nothing of what he was thinking as he answered the questions.

"Under Mr. Wilkins's leadership was the company considered a major community asset?"

"Yes. It was, and it still is."

Dodgson nodded. "Do you recall the week of April 21 through April 26?"

"Yes."

"Was Mr. Wilkins there during that week?"

"Not a single time."

"And did he keep in touch, explain his absence?"

"Not at first. He called and left a message not to expect him on Monday of that week, and a couple of days later he called to tell me he'd be out a few more days, until he heard from his wife."

"How did he sound when he talked to you?"

"He was anxious. He said he was very worried about her, and if she called him at the dealership, to let him know instantly. He said he wouldn't be leaving his house and I should get in touch day or night if I heard from her."

"Mr. Levinson, did he say why he was worried about her?"

"Yes, he did. He said she was too sick to be out wandering around alone." Levinson sounded so bland that he might have been talking about wallpaper he had seen one time or another.

When Barbara stood up for her cross-examination, she said, "Good morning,"

pleasantly, and he inclined his head slightly but made no other response.

"I'd like to clarify a few of the things you've referred to," she said. "What did you mean when you said Mr. Wilkins kept a close watch at all times? A close watch on what?"

"Everything," he said. "The salesmen, the mechanics in the shop, the secretary, the boy who cleaned things. Everything."

"You mean he checked things personally?"

"Yes. He checked the restrooms, and the cars that had been test driven. He kept an eye on the desks. No food or drink was allowed outside the lounge. And the shoes.

Anyone who went out to the shop had to change shoes when he came back. No tracking grease or oil into the showroom. He kept tabs on everything."

"And what did you mean by a close ear on everything? He listened to the salesmen?"

"He could monitor them from his office. The closing room, the showroom, the shop, the lounge. He listened in from time to time."

"Was everyone aware of this?"

"Yes. He laid it out when you were hired. You knew the rules, and that he might be listening and watching."

"What were some of those rules?"

Levinson was trying to maintain his neutral, even stoical tone, but his resentment was starting to show as he said, "You had to clock in and out for breaks, lunch, starting and closing times. If you were late more than fifteen minutes you were docked an hour. No food or drink, not even water, outside the lounge. Employees had to use the bathroom off the lounge, not the one off the showroom. You couldn't leave a soda can or dirty cup sitting around anywhere. No smoking anywhere on the property. No profanity. The telephone wasn't ever to ring more than three times before someone answered it. You had to clean the microwave after every use. Every car that a customer entered had to be cleaned afterward, the steering wheel, dashboard, the glove compartment, the floor mat cleaned with a hand vac. He didn't want to see fingerprints or smudges on anything. There were others, but I can't remember. They were written down and posted in the lounge."

Dodgson was on his feet. "Objection! This is all irrelevant. I move that it be stricken.

Many work places have strict rules as a way to enforce discipline."

"Your Honor," Barbara said, "Mr. Wilkins has been portrayed as an easygoing, congenial man, but he was more complex than that, as most human beings are. I argue that it's fair to show more than one aspect of his character."

Judge Wells overruled.

"Mr. Levinson," Barbara said then, "are you saying that Mr. Wilkins personally enforced his rules? The microwave, for instance, what if he found it soiled?"

"He did once and he had it removed for a week," Levinson said. He had regained his neutral voice. His answer was uninflected.

"In what ways did the dealership prove to be a community asset?"

"We support local groups, the university, for example. We have a box at Autzen Stadium, and give generously to the university as a whole. Kids sports, other charitable organizations. We host many meetings with out-of-state visitors, officials from Washington, other businesses from around the West Coast."

"I see." She paused for a moment. "In your testimony you said he left a message for you not to expect him on Monday, April 21. Will you tell the jury about that call?"

"Yes. He called my house at midnight on Sunday and left the message on my answering machine. He told me to e-mail him about the weekend activities, that he would not be in on Monday and that he had asked a group of musicians to get in touch about an engagement and I should take their call."

"Was that unusual, for him to make a late-night call?"

"It was the only time he ever did."

"Later in the week when he said he would not be in until he heard from his wife, was that unusual, for him to mention his personal affairs?"

"Very unusual. That was the first time he had ever mentioned her to me."

"When he was not at his job, you said you kept in touch. How did you do that if he was out fishing with friends?"

"I reported in by calling his cell phone. He wanted daily reports."

"What was the penalty for someone who broke his rule about smoking on the premises?"

"The first time they were reprimanded, if it happened again, they got fired."

"And if they were late?"

"Same thing. Once or twice, a reprimand, a third time, fired."

"Mr. Levinson, were there others employed at the dealership who had been there as long as or longer than you?"

"No."

"As the general manager, are you aware of the tenure of most employees?" He said yes. "And how long did most of them stay on the job?"

His voice was almost robotic when he said, "About two years usually."

She thanked him and said no more questions.

"They just have a few more witnesses on their list," Barbara said when they broke for lunch that day. She, Wally and Meg were in Frank's car, heading for his house, where he had promised hot soup and sandwiches. It was raining. Not a pounding rain like that of the night before, but steady and cold.

"Then it's your turn to start your defense case?" Meg asked.

"Yes. Probably in the morning." Her first witness would be Adele Wykoph. And she'd better not cause trouble, she added to herself. She had had a stormy session with Adele when they discussed her testimony. The scene played in her head.

"
What do you mean I can't say he killed her? He did and you know it."

"
We have to stick to this case, and she's not part of it. Her death is separate from
the murder of Jay Wilkins, and the prosecution will keep it that way."

"
Bull! It's part and parcel of the whole picture."

"
Adele, please listen to me. All you have to do is answer the questions, nothing
more. And I can't imply anything about her murder I can't bring it up except in
the most general terms."

"
Jesus! They're calling the tune and you're dancing to it!"

"
For God's sake! Look, I don't tell you how to run your center. Don't you tell me
how to conduct my case!"

"
They're going to whitewash him, and you're letting—" Adele stopped abruptly
and when she spoke again a second later, her voice was different, the intense fury
replaced by a softness, compassion and understanding. Her professional
counselor's voice. "Barbara, are you in trouble? You are, aren't you?"

"
And don't start analyzing me!" Barbara snapped, then drew back, startled by the
vehemence of her own voice.

"Well, here we are," Frank said, bringing her back to the car, the house, the falling rain.

Inside, while Meg commiserated with Frank about the state of his petunias that had succumbed to the numbing cold rain, Barbara fled to the second floor.

The first witness of the afternoon session was Officer Amelia Martinez, a solidly built Mexican American, forty-seven years old. She had been with the domestic disputes department for sixteen years.

"On the night of Sunday, April 20, did you have occasion to speak with Mr. Jay Wilkins on the telephone?" Dodgson asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you recall what he said?"

"Yes, sir, and I have my notes."

"Please tell the jury about that call."

"He said his wife had gone missing and he was anxious for the authorities to start an immediate search for her. I asked for the details, and he told me she had not gone to her sister's house in Virginia, that her plane had landed on time and all, but she hadn't been on it. When he said that it transpired only the day before, I told him that he should wait another day or two. Flights are delayed, maybe she missed her connection, or something like that. But he was agitated and said she was in danger.

That her life was at risk. When I asked him what he meant he said that she might be suicidal. I told him our policy is not to declare someone missing in such a short time, just twenty-four hours or so in his case, and he became angry. He said it was our job and he wanted someone to get on it immediately."

Dodgson stopped her. "What were his words when he said she might be suicidal?"

She scanned her notebook, then read: "You don't understand. She's sick, depressed, and she might even harm herself. She could kill herself"

"No more questions," Dodgson said. He nodded to Barbara. "Your witness."

"Officer Martinez, was Mr. Wilkins's call alarming or unusual?"

"No. We take calls like that a lot. They have a quarrel and someone goes off and the other one gets in a panic. I thought it was just like those other ones."

"How long do you usually wait before you issue a missing person report?"

"Several days when it's an adult, especially one who packed her own suitcase and said she was taking a trip."

"Thank you, Officer. No more questions," Barbara said.

Dodgson had her repeat what Jay had said, then he called in quick succession three women whom Jay had called to make inquiries about Connie, and each of them verified that she had believed that Connie had been suicidal.

Barbara asked each in turn when was the last time she had talked to Connie, and the answers were all similar: two to two and a half years ago.

Dodgson called Detective Edward Jarrell, who said he was a computer technology specialist. He was in his thirties, pale and intense, with straight blond hair, and a slight build.

"Did you examine Mr. Wilkins s computer following his death?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is that routine?" When he said yes, Dodgson asked, "Exactly what do you look for?"

"Any threatening e-mails, chat-room discussions that might have aroused hostility, electronic relationships that might have developed. Things like if he was into Internet gambling, or pornography. Anything that might have a bearing on the murder."

"Did you find anything of that sort?"

"No, sir. It appeared that he used his computer mostly for business, to manage his financial affairs, to keep up with the stock market, the automotive industry, all things of that sort."

"Did you find anything out of the ordinary?"

"One drive was password protected, and his wife used that one."

"Detective, please explain to the jury exactly what you mean about a protected drive."

He cleared his throat as if preparing for a long spiel and that's what he gave. He explained about partitioning a computer hard drive, about the use of passwords to protect certain areas, like Internet banking. "Drive F was dedicated to her use," he said when he finished.

"But you were able to open it and examine the files in the folder. Is that correct?"

"Yes sir. I was." He sounded very confident and even a little proud as he said this.

"What was in the files?"

"There were two. One was the purchase of an electronic plane ticket to Roanoke, Virginia, using a credit card. The purchase was made on April 14. The other file was titled, 'Late Night.' It was just a few lines, like the beginning of a longer piece that she didn't finish."

Dodgson showed a printout to the judge and to Barbara, then handed it to Detective Jarrell. "Do you recognize this?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. It's a printout of the piece on the computer."

Dodgson asked him to read it aloud, and he did in a lugubrious tone. "I can't take it much longer. Please, God, how much longer must I endure? Pretending, always pretending. J tries so hard to help, but it's no use. He doesn't understand. Adele doesn't understand. No one does. I hate being alive. I don't want to live. I'm ready"

"How did that handwritten date, March 27, get there?" Dodgson asked then, retrieving the printout.

"I added that, to indicate the date that it was written. That's always recorded, of course."

Dodgson nodded as if to agree, of course. He took the printout to the foreman of the jury and solemnly handed it to him, then stood by as it was passed from juror to juror. After he had it admitted as an exhibit, he asked, "Were any of the other drives protected with a password?"