Part 40 (1/2)
”Disagreements as to facts, if you will.”
”I'm not sure what you mean. There were some differences of opinion, but that's natural, isn't it? We're talking about events that occurred many years ago.”
”What were those differences of opinion, as you call them?”
”I was generalizing. I don't recall offhand.”
”Do you recall Mr. O'Rourke saying that on the night of your husband's murder there was a single shot, and then, a minute or two later, three more shots?”
”Yes, I believe he did say that.”
”But thirteen years ago you swore under oath”-I glanced down at my notes and lifted a sheet of paper from the table-”that 'there were three, four, five shots.' Is that correct?”
”Yes, I believe so.”
I kept looking at the sheet of paper in my hand. ”And didn't you say, just two days ago, in your testimony here in this court: 'The shots came one after the other. Then I rushed out to the terrace.' Didn't you say that under oath, Mrs. Zide?”
She had been bluffed and hurt once; she wouldn't allow it to happen twice. That was where her calmness came from. ”I don't recall saying that on Monday, Mr. Jaffe. I did say there were a total of three or four shots, and of course I said I rushed out to the terrace. But that's all I recall saying.”
”Is it your testimony now, Mrs. Zide, that the shots did not come one after another?”
”I'm not sure what you mean.”
”I'll put it another way. Was Mr. O'Rourke telling the truth when he said there was a single shot, and then, a minute or two later, three more shots?”
”I don't know.” She sighed. ”It was so long ago.”
I handed her the piece of paper in my hand. ”Would you identify this, please, Mrs. Zide?”
She stared at it for a moment. ”It seems to be part of a trial transcript.”
”And the date, as notarized by the court clerk?”
”It says April 14, 1979.”
”And who is asking the questions?”
”I believe you were,” Connie said softly.
”And who is testifying?”
”I was.”
”That testimony took place in this same courtroom in which we sit today, did it not?”
”Yes.”
”When you testified here in April of 1979, a man was on trial for his life, was he not?”
”Yes.”
”Before a jury of his peers?”
”Yes.”
”The same man who sits next to me today?” I laid my hand on Darryl's hot shoulder.
”Yes.”
”You identified this man as the one who shot your husband, did you not?”
”Yes.”
”And at that trial in April of 1979, there was a judge sitting on the bench, as Judge Fleming sits today, wasn't there?”
”Yes.”
”Cloaked in black?”
”Yes.”
”Symbolizing the gravity of the occasion and the majesty of our law?”
”Yes, I suppose so.”
I frowned. ”You weren't sure that the trial of a man for murder was a grave occasion?”
”I'm sorry-yes, I was sure.”
”And on that occasion, before you testified, the clerk of the court asked you to raise your hand to G.o.d and swear to tell the truth, did she not?”
”Yes.”
”And did you tell the truth to that other judge and that jury?” ”Yes.”
”Read what you were asked and what you told them, Mrs. Zide, if you please. The part marked in yellow ink.”
She read: ”Q: You heard the shots?
”A: Yes, there were three, or maybe even four. Shots, I mean. They came one after the other. I ran outside.”
I said now, ”You still stand by that statement, that the shots 'came one after the other'?”
A trickle of sweat appeared at Connie's temple. ”Yes,” she murmured.
”Mrs. Zide,” I said, ”did you, back then, identify this man sitting beside me as the murderer of your husband?”
”Yes.”
”How did you do that?”