Part 32 (1/2)
”It's material in that it explains why this witness's testimony is pertinent and why it cannot be discounted by the hearsay rule.”
”May I approach?” Barbara asked. Judge Mac beckoned to both attorneys and turned off his microphone.
”Your Honor, the prosecution is going to introduce hearsay evidence, which, of course, I will object to, and he is simply trying to muddy the waters by showing that this witness has nothing at stake here, no personal agenda. That's debatable and, in any event, beside the point.”
”It's necessary that the record show that this witness indeed has nothing at stake,” Novak said, ”and has appeared reluctantly. He is the innocent bystander who has something of importance to tell the court.”
”I'll let you continue to a point,” Judge Mac said, ”but with the admonition that if I find it inadmissable, it will be stricken.”
Novak bowed slightly, and Judge Mac waved them both away. ”Overruled,” he said. ”The witness may answer the question.”
”She was an acquaintance,” Wrigley said. ”We served on the same hospital committee, and she volunteered for a study my clinic was doing for a diabetes medication. I turned her down; she did not qualify as a partic.i.p.ant since her own diabetes was well controlled. But she had a delusional idea that there was a possibility of a romantic relations.h.i.+p between us, and she became aggressive in pursuing that notion.”
”Aggressive how?”
”She turned up in the audience on two or three occasions when I was on a panel, or giving a paper. I thought it was a coincidence at first, but it became obvious that it was by design. She sent me notes, and little gifts.”
”Was she stalking you, Dr. Wrigley?”
He looked troubled, hesitated a moment, then nodded. ”My wife said it was stalking behavior. I hadn't thought of it that way, but I came to agree with her. At first, she wanted me to report it to the police; I was reluctant to do that.”
”Why?”
”Several reasons,” he said. ”It would have destroyed Hilde Franz professionally, of course. But also, it would have looked bad for me, I thought. I was afraid someone might think I had done or said something to encourage her. And I believed it was harmless, that she would get over her romantic obsession.”
”Had you encouraged her, Dr. Wrigley?”
”Never!”
”All right. You stated that she spoke to you about the murder of Gus Marchand. Will you tell the court how that conversation came about?”
”I was working at the clinic one night and she called me there. She said she had to talk to someone, that she was going mad with worry.”
”Objection,” Barbara said. ”Since Ms. Franz is deceased and can't be cross-examined, anything she is alleged to have said is hearsay.”
Very smoothly Novak said, ”The witness can testify as to what Ms. Franz said to him directly. He is not testifying about the truthfulness of any of her statements, only that she uttered them.”
”Overruled. Proceed, Mr. Novak.”
”Dr. Wrigley, after she said she was going mad with worry, what did she say?”
”Well, I interrupted her and said I couldn't talk to her, that I was working, and she had to stop calling me. I was a little brusque, I believe.” He turned his hungry eyes toward the judge, as if apologizing.
”Did she continue in spite of that?”
”Yes. She said she knew who killed Gus Marchand and she had to tell someone. I told her to go to the police, and she said she didn't want to do that. Then I said she should talk to her lawyer and take his advice, and she said she couldn't do that.”
”Did she say why she couldn't do that?” Novak asked in his silkiest voice.
”Yes. She said her lawyer was Mr. Holloway and his daughter represented Alexander Feldman, and she believed that Mr. Holloway repeated whatever she told him to Ms. Holloway. She was afraid that if either of them knew she had information harmful to Ms. Holloway's client, they might make a concerted effort to discredit her, to destroy her.”
”I see,” Novak said. He turned toward Barbara with a reproachful look.
”What else did she say?” he asked Wrigley.
”She was crying,” he said. ”It was hard to understand her. She begged me to listen and advise her; she said she didn't know who' else to turn to.” He took a sip of water. ”I told her I was going to hang up, that I didn't want to hear anything else, and I said if she called again, I would hang up on her as soon as I heard her voice. Then she blurted out, 'I saw Alexander Feldman going to the Marchand house when I was leaving. Now you know!' And she said that if anything happened to her, it would be on my shoulders to tell the police.”
”Did the conversation end there?”
”No. I told her again to go to the police and tell them. She said she felt sorry for Alexander Feldman; he had been goaded and prodded by Gus Marchand past endurance, and desperate people sometimes took desperate measures to end their torment, desperate measures sometimes were the only way out of h.e.l.l. Then she said she would never bother me again, and she hung up.”
”Did you ever speak to her again?”
”No.”
”Dr. Wrigley, that was an extraordinary conversation, an extraordinary accusation on her part. Did you do anything about it?”
”No.”
”Why not?”
”I thought it was her duty to report what she knew to the proper authorities.”
”And after her death, did you then reconsider?”
”Gradually I did.”
”Tell the court what you were considering after her death.”
”I kept thinking of her words, that it was on my shoulders to tell if anything happened to her. I began to think of it like a deathbed charge, an obligation I had not wanted but one that had been imposed on me. But I continued to hesitate.”
”Why was that?”
”I knew that if I told any of it, I would have to tell it all, and I didn't want to besmirch her reputation if there was no necessity. Also, I didn't think secondhand information would be of any interest to the investigators.”
”What finally changed your mind, Dr. Wrigley?”
”When they reopened the investigation into Hilde Franz's death, I realized what she had meant by her last statements to me. I had thought her death to be accidental, as it was reported in the news, but reopening the investigation made me understand that she really was giving me a deathbed charge, that she had already decided to end her life.”
”You think Hilde Franz was a suicide?”
”Yes; now I do.”
Novak had a few more questions, but basically he was finished with Wrigley. When he thanked him and turned toward his own table, Judge Mac tapped his gavel and said there would be a recess of fifteen minutes.
After Judge Mac left through a rear door, the courtroom erupted into a buzz of conversation. As Wrigley walked away from the stand, Barbara felt as if she should salute him, pay homage to a superior performance, but she resisted. He did not look exactly sated, but well satisfied, and that was enough, she decided. Selfsatisfaction was reward enough.