Part 39 (2/2)
”On what grounds?” the judge inquired.
”Relevance!”
”Seems harmless enough to me. You may answer, Mrs. Zide.”
Connie had little choice. In a trembling voice she said, ”I don't remember.”
She had good instincts; ”I don't remember” was the safest place to hide, and it was exactly what I had feared.
I turned to the judge. ”Your Honor, on this specific matter of her carrying a weapon, since the witness is evasive, I ask her to be declared adverse and ask permission to cross-examine.”
Muriel almost danced up and down in anger. ”She's not being evasive! It's fourteen years ago, and she doesn't remember! He has to accept that!”
Judge Fleming, looking almost sad at the decision he felt he was forced to make, said to me, ”I'm afraid that's so, Mr. Jaffe. Her memory isn't fresh, and we have to live with it.”
”Perhaps I can refresh her memory,” I said.
”You may do that, sir, but not by cross-examining her.”
I reached into the folder in front of me on the counsel table and took out a cream-colored doc.u.ment. Gary had dug for me in the deepest recesses of the county's files. But it was too long ago; no record of Connie's pistol registration existed, not even on microfilm.
I said, ”I would like to place this in evidence, Your Honor, and then have my witness examine it.”
Connie blanched. She looked at Muriel, waiting for an objection, but now none was forthcoming. There were no grounds for one, and Muriel, like the court, was waiting.
Connie blew out her breath and said quietly, ”Wait. I remember now. It was registered. I did have a permit, of course. I wouldn't carry a pistol illegally.”
”And now that you remember that you had a permit for the weapon,” I said, waving the piece of paper at her, ”does that jog your memory to remember what kind of pistol it was, Mrs. Zide?”
”Yes, I think so.”
”Objection!” Muriel barked.
”She's answered!” I barked back.
”And the objection is overruled,” the judge said.
I raised my voice but tried to be calming, composed. ”Would you be kind enough to tell us, Mrs. Zide, what kind of pistol it was?”
”A Smith and Wesson Chief Special.”
”Do you recall the caliber?”
She hesitated, and the muscles of her face seemed to sag. I waved the paper in my hand slightly. She said, ”I believe it was a thirty- eight-caliber.”
”And it fit in your purse?”
”It was only a little gun.”
”With a two-inch barrel?”
”That's possible. It was small.”
”May it please the court,” I said, ”that this doc.u.ment in my hand be marked defendant's 'A' for identification?”
I walked to the bench and handed the cream-colored piece of paper up to Judge Fleming. He stared at it in puzzlement, blinked a few times behind his tortoisesh.e.l.l spectacles, then c.o.c.ked a s.h.a.ggy white eyebrow.
”Mr. Jaffe, this paper is your sworn affidavit that Mrs. Zide told you she carried a pistol in her handbag. It's not a registration permit to carry that pistol.”
”I never said it was, Your Honor.”
”d.a.m.n you!” Connie cried at me, before Muriel could intervene.
It was all I needed. ”Your Honor, this witness is demonstrably hostile! And this witness has been evasive. I can't get her to be responsive other than by frightening her or by asking her leading questions. I don't want to frighten her-that's not fair. I renew my motion to cross-examine.”
Muriel said angrily, ”That business with the affidavit was sheer trickery! There's no basis for the renewal of the motion!”
”Why?” the judge inquired. ”He didn't make any statements that it was other than an affidavit. He even showed it to us. Who did he trick? Or whom? There's no jury. You're too smart to be tricked. And the witness had her memory refreshed.”
”It's cheap, Your Honor!”
”Flashy, maybe. Not what I'd call cheap. Kind of like a Rolex as opposed to a Timex. I'm going to grant his motion to cross-examine.” He turned back to me and wagged a crooked finger. ”No more stunts, though, Counselor. We've been entertained, but once is enough. Just ask proper questions.”
”Yes, sir!” I said, as if he were a general and I were a lieutenant. ”May we have a ten-minute break, Your Honor?” Muriel said sharply.
Connie came back to the witness stand. Her anger had waned. Her eyes were clear and her gaze steady, as if she had been through something and had triumphed over it. The buzz in the courtroom subsided, and I began again.
”Mrs. Zide ... you've been in this courtroom during previous testimony, haven't you?”
”Yes, you've seen me here.”
”On Monday, you heard the testimony of your son?”
”Yes.”
”And this morning, the testimony of Mr. Stanzi, the ballistics expert?”
”Yes.”
”And also, this morning, you heard Terence O'Rourke, your former security guard?”
”Yes.”
”You heard certain contradictions between what those last three witnesses swore to and what you and your son said here in this courtroom under oath, didn't you?”
”Contradictions?”
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