False Accusations by Jacobson, Alan (great novels of all time .txt) 📕

stood looking down at it for a moment, at a pad of notes; he then turned to Madison. “In order for Miss Harding to have committed this crime, sir, she would’ve had to break into your garage and steal your car. Isn’t that right?”

“No.”

“No? Oh, that’s right. You said that your wife’s set of keys to your car were missing.”

“That’s correct. Stolen, by the defendant.”

“That’s a lie!” Harding was standing, her face beet red, her flowing auburn locks tousled. “You’re lying. I didn’t steal the keys or your car—”

“Counselor, get your client under control immediately or I’ll have her removed.”

Warwick had already been struggling with her, pushing down on her shoulders, trying to make her sit, his face squarely in front of hers, locking on her eyes. As Harding took her seat, her chest still heaving with anger, the bailiff who was hovering nearby took a few steps backward. Warwick whispered something in her ear and then turned toward Madison again. He glanced down at his notes, took a deep breath, and began again where he had left off.

“You contend that my client had a set of keys to your car. If that’s true, how did she get into the garage? Don’t you lock it at night?”

“My wife’s set of keys had a key to the side garage door on it.”

Warwick seemed to be caught off guard; even though it was something that he should have anticipated, he apparently did not. “When you realized that the keys had been missing, didn’t you have the lock changed as a precaution?”

“As I testified earlier, my wife had left me, and it wasn’t until a week after she returned that she realized they were gone. And at that time, my mind was on other things. I didn’t think of it.”

“Don’t you mean that you weren’t concerned because the keys were in fact never stolen?”

Madison clenched his jaw but maintained his demeanor. “No, sir. I meant exactly what I said. My mind was on other things. Given all that I’d been through, that’s perfectly understandable.”

Warwick began walking toward Madison again. “Do you have an alarm in your house, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Does it also protect the garage when you turn it on?”

“Yes.”

“When do you usually arm the alarm?”

“Right before we go to bed.”

“And at what time had you gone to bed the night of the murders?”

“As I told the detectives, I fell asleep while watching television that night, around eleven o’clock.”

“Eleven.”

“So I never set the alarm that night. I awoke around four in the morning when the police came to the door.”

Warwick reached the witness box and leaned on the railing, looking down at Madison. “Do you have a car alarm?”

“Yes, I do. But it doesn’t arm itself unless I lock the car doors. I don’t lock the car when it’s parked in the garage because the garage is alarmed. Besides, there’s a remote arming device on the same keychain as the spare car key. Without the arming device, the key wouldn’t do my wife much good.”

Warwick clenched his jaw, moved to his next question. “You have a dog, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Is he a good watchdog?”

“At times.”

“I hear that Labs are excellent watchdogs.”

“Like with people, generalizations are not always accurate. He’s a good watchdog at times.”

“And when are those times that he’s particularly effective?”

“When he’s downstairs or on the second floor. I’ve got a big house. If he’s upstairs and asleep, he usually doesn’t hear anything in the garage, which is separate from the house.”

Warwick chuckled and turned to face the jury for a moment. “So you’re saying that because your dog was asleep, he didn’t hear anything. A dog that’s a heavy sleeper,” he sneered mockingly, shaking his head, as if to say, Do you believe this? He turned back to Madison. “Did he awaken you the night of the murders? Had he heard any strange noises?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I don’t recall him waking me up.”

“So what you’re saying, if I may paraphrase—and please stop me if I’m wrong—is that Miss Harding stole your keys, took a chance that your house alarm wasn’t armed, stole your car, ran down these two people, planted the beer in the backseat, returned your car to the garage, again risking the fact that the alarm might be set, and then left? And your dog never heard any of it?”

“No.”

“No?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. That’s what the police are saying. I’m not saying anything other than what I’ve told the police, yourself, and Mr. Denton.”

Warwick waved a hand at Madison in disgust. “I have nothing further at this time for this witness. We reserve the right to recall him if additional evidence becomes available.”

“Redirect?” the judge asked.

Denton looked up toward Calvino. “Yes, Your Honor. A few questions, if I may.” He stood and walked over to Madison.

“Doctor, did you ever tell Brittany Harding that your home has an alarm?”

“No.”

“Do you have any of those signs or stickers posted anywhere on your house warning anyone of an alarm?”

“No, my wife thought they were ugly.”

“Are there homes in your area that don’t have alarms? Please don’t answer unless you have direct knowledge,” he said, sensing Warwick preparing to pounce like a hungry leopard.

“I have two friends who don’t have alarms. One of them lives across the street. Matt Prisco. The other house belongs to the Fentons, down the block. There may be more, but I don’t personally know of any others.”

“So, unless the person breaking in knows you personally, or knows someone who knows you personally, the burglar wouldn’t know whether or not you have an alarm.”

“That’s correct.”

“Doctor, how many floors are there in your house?”

“Three.”

“Which floor is your bedroom on?”

“The third.”

“Does your dog usually sleep in the bedroom with you?”

“Yes.”

“And was he in the room with you when you fell asleep the night Mr. Silvers and Ms. Pringle were murdered?”

“He was.”

“Doctor, is your garage part of your house? By that I mean, are they part of the same structure?”

“No, the garage is its own separate building. There’s a carport between the