Without a Hitch (32 page)

Beckett rose to
his feet.  “Nothing further.”

“The witness is
excused.  Call your next witness, Mr. Pierce,” Judge Sutherlin said.

When Beckett sat
down, Beaumont leaned over to him.  “Why did’n chu ask him about beating me?”

“Because your
story is a lie.”

Chapter 39

“The people call
Maggie Smith,” Eddie Pierce proclaimed.

“Interesting,”
Beckett whispered to Corbin.  “I guess they haven’t found Webb yet?”

Based on the
order of their witness list, comments made by Pierce during the pre-trial
conference, and simple trial tactics, Corbin and Beckett expected Pierce to
call Webb as his second witness, especially after Beckett successfully kept
Russell from talking about Webb finding the documents.  Putting Webb off would present
problems for Pierce, problems an experienced trial attorney like Beckett was
ready to exploit.

“Do you want me
to find Webb?” Corbin volunteered.

“No, I don’t
want to trigger any desire on his part to come testify.  Let sleeping cops
lie.”

All eyes turned
to the rear of the courtroom as a bailiff opened the wooden door.  In walked a Rubenesque,
middle-aged woman in a slightly-dated, dark-blue, skirt suit.  She wore an
enormous gold watch on her wrist and smelled strongly of perfume, even from
great distances.  She made her way to the witness box and was sworn in by the
clerk.  This was Maggie Smith.

For the next ten
minutes, Pierce struggled to get basic background information out of Smith.  It
wasn’t that Smith wanted to be difficult, but like many people who never
testified before, she felt intimidated by sitting in the witness box with
dozens of people staring at her.  Like a million witnesses before her, this
caused her to confuse simple details, to provide wrong or incomplete answers,
and to sound nervous.  Pierce, who had seen this hundreds of times before,
patiently walked her through those details.  As she became more comfortable, he
moved on to more important topics.

“Now, you say
you’ve been the branch manager at Penn Bancorp, down on Fulton, for five years,
correct?”

“Yes.”

“In your role as
branch manager, were you the person responsible for opening new accounts?”

“Right.”

“Were you at
work on June 14th of last year?”

“I was,” she
said, doing her best to be helpful.

“Did you see
anyone in this courtroom enter the bank on June 14th of last year?”

Smith looked
around briefly before nodding her head.

“Can you please
provide a verbal answer.  The court reporter can’t record you nodding your
head,” Pierce said, responding to her nod.

“I’m sorry.  Yes,
I saw the defendant,” Smith said, pointing at Beaumont.

Pierce looked at
the judge.  “Your Honor, may the record reflect that Ms. Smith has identified
the defendant, Mr. Beaumont.”

“It may,”
Sutherlin responded.

“Now, Ms. Smith,
what did Mr. Beaumont do, if anything.”  By adding the “if anything,” Pierce
avoided any possibility Beckett could object to the question as leading. 
Leading questions are not allowed on direct examination, though they are
allowed on cross examination.

“He asked to
open an account.”

“Did he identify
himself as Mr. Beaumont?”

“No, he did
not.”

“Did he identify
himself at all?”

“Yes, or I
couldn’t have opened the account,” she replied politely.

“How did he
identify himself?”

“He said his
name was Scott Stevens and he showed me identification.”

Pierce walked
over to Morales, who handed him some papers.  “Ms. Smith, I’m going to show you
a set of documents.”

Beckett
immediately objected.  “May we approach, Your Honor?”

“Approach,”
Sutherlin ordered, placing his file down and leaning forward so he could speak
to the attorneys without the jury overhearing.

“The prosecution
is about to question Ms. Smith about documents allegedly recovered from Mr.
Beaumont’s apartment, but they have not yet provided any evidence placing those
documents in Mr. Beaumont’s possession,” Beckett said.

“Officer Webb
will testify that he personally removed these documents from Mr. Beaumont’s
apartment,” Pierce responded.

“Why haven’t we
heard from Officer Webb yet, Mr. Pierce?” Sutherlin asked.  He seemed annoyed
by this.

“He was called
away, Your Honor.  We expect him to testify tomorrow evening or Wednesday
morning.”

Beckett began to
speak, but Sutherlin raised his hand.  “Mr. Beckett, I’m going to overrule your
objection for the moment.  Mr. Pierce, I’m going to allow you to proceed,
though I will not let you use this witness to explain where those documents
were found.  I also caution you. 
If
. . . I say,
if
Webb does not
testify as promised, I’m going to take a long, hard look at dismissing this
case.  I am already wondering whether or not all the evidence collected by Sgt.
Russell and Officer Webb should be suppressed, as they clearly had no probable
cause to enter Mr. Beaumont’s apartment and they had no warrant either.  At
this point, I am only waiting to hear what Officer Webb has to add. 
Do you
understand me, counselor
?”

Pierce was visibly
shaken by Sutherlin’s warning.  “Yes, Your Honor.”  He returned to the podium. 
“I’m going to show you some documents, Ms. Smith.”  Pierce looked to Sutherlin
again. “May I approach the witness?”

“You may.”

“Take a moment
to look at these.”  Pierce handed the documents to Smith.  He then placed a
copy of the first document on the document projector, which displayed it on a
large screen directly across from the jury.  “Do these look familiar?”

“Yes.”

“Can you
identify these documents?”

“These are the
documents he signed.”

“You mean that
Mr. Beaumont signed?”

“Yes.” Every
member of the jury turned to watch Beaumont’s reaction.  He had none.  He just
sat in his chair, leaning back slightly with his arms folded over his stomach
and a blank expression on his face.

“He signed those
in your presence on June 14th, correct?”

“Yes, there’s
the date,” she said, pointing at the date on the document on the screen.

“These are your
standard account documents?”

“Yes.  This is
the entire packet we keep when we open a new account.  The top couple are
signed by the account holder and the rest are legalese.”  She smiled when she
said that, as did most of the jury.  They liked her.

“There are about
fifteen pages, aren’t there?”

Smith counted
them and agreed.

Pierced turned
to Judge Sutherlin.  “Your Honor, I’d like to mark these as People’s Exhibit
12.  Can you read the signature, Ms. Smith?”

She squinted
slightly at the document.  “It says, ‘Scott Stevens.’”

Pierce paused
again to let the jury examine the signature, which now appeared on the screen. 
“What happened next, Ms. Smith?”

“I opened the
account for him.”

“How did you do
that?”

Smith paused,
seemingly confused.  “I don’t understand?”

“Did he give you
anything?” Pierce prodded her.

“Oh yes, I’m
sorry.  I wasn’t sure what you meant.  Yes, he handed me $100 in cash to place
into the account.  I put that in my drawer and then gave him the usual
paperwork, which includes starter checks.  Those are the ones you said they—”

“Objection,”
Beckett said calmly, not bothering to leave his chair.

“Sustained.”

Smith looked
panicked, but Pierce jumped in to calm her down.  “That’s ok, Ms. Smith.  You
gave him starter checks and he took them from you, is that right?”

She agreed,
though she still appeared shaken by the objection.

“What did Mr.
Beaumont do then?”

“He left the
bank.”

“He opened an
account in a false name and then he left,” Pierce repeated.  “Your witness,” he
said to Beckett.  As he returned to his seat, Pierce was all smiles.

Beckett leaned
against the podium.  “Good afternoon, Ms. Smith.  My name is Evan Beckett.  I
represent Mr. Beaumont.  I’m going to follow up on some of what you just talked
about with Mr. Pierce,” he said kindly.

“Ok.”  Smith
smiled, though she was nervous about what Beckett would say or do.

“You say you
were at work on June 14th, correct?”

“Yes.”

“How do you
know?”

She looked
confused.

“Let me back up
a second.  When did you first hear about this case?”

“When a police
officer came to the bank.”

“When was that?”
Beckett asked.  His polite manner put Smith at ease.

“I don’t know,
two months ago, maybe?”

“What did the
officer want?”

“He said they
were investigating identity theft and they wanted details on one of our
accounts,” Smith said in the same helpful tone she’d used with Pierce.

“That was the
account of Scott Stevens?”

She nodded.

“I take it you
gave them the information?”

“Oh yes, after
we checked with our attorneys to make sure we could turn that over.”

“Was there
anything prior to the police showing up at the bank which sent up any red flags
on that account?”

“No, nothing,”
she said, shaking her head for emphasis.

“How many
accounts do you normally open on any particular day?”

“Maybe five or
six on a busy day.”

“How many
accounts did you open on June 14th?”

Smith’s face
went blank.  “I. . . I don’t know.”

“Was it more
than one?”

“Probably, but I
honestly don’t remember.  I’m sorry, that was a long time ago.”

“Do you remember
any of the other people who opened an account that day?”

Smith shook her
head.

“What about people
on the 15th of June?” Beckett asked.

Smith shook her
head again.

“What about the
16th of June?”

“No sir. . . I’m
sorry, I don’t remember any of them.”

“Do you remember
anyone who opened an account in June, other than Mr. Beaumont?”

“No sir, I
don’t,” she responded politely.

“But you do remember
Mr. Beaumont?” Beckett asked.  The first hint of skepticism crept into his
voice.

Smith blushed.  “No,
not at the time. . . but I do now.”  This comment got the jury’s attention. 
Several members sat up straighter in their chairs.

“What do you
mean, ‘not at the time’?” Beckett asked.

“I didn’t
remember him the first time the police came to talk to me,” she clarified. 
“But when they came back, they showed me a picture of Mr. Beaumont.”

“They showed you
Mr. Beaumont’s picture?!” Beckett asked incredulously.  “Did they show you
anyone else’s picture?”

“No, I don’t
think so.  They told me the Stevens account was fake and they knew who did it. 
Then they showed me Mr. Beaumont’s picture and asked me if I recognized him as
the man who pretended to be Scott Stevens.”

This caused
several members of the jury to look at Eddie Pierce.  They were frowning. 
Beckett had scored a hit.

“So you only
remembered Mr. Beaumont
only after
the police showed you his photo and
told you he was Scott Stevens?” Beckett asked, pounding home his discovery.

“Yes,” Smith
replied.  No one in the courtroom doubted her honesty.

“When someone
opens an account, you get identification from that person, right?”

“Oh yes.  We
need a pho. . .to ID.”  As the words left Smith’s mouth, her entire face turned
white and her eyes grew.  “Oh my,” Smith said to herself, though the microphone
carried it throughout the courtroom.  “There should have been a photo ID.”

Pierce momentarily
looked nervous, but quickly regained his poker face.  He glanced at Morales,
who shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

Beckett picked
up the packet of documents.  “If you could turn to the packet of documents Mr.
Pierce handed you a few minutes ago.  I believe he marked it as Exhibit 12?”  Smith
picked up the packet as Beckett flipped through his own set.  “Now, I believe
these are out of order, so if you could please look about ten pages in.”

Smith flipped
through the pages until she came upon a photocopy of a drivers licenses.  She
squinted at it, taking in all of the details.  Then she looked at Beaumont,
comparing him to the image on the drivers license.  She seemed to deflate.

Beckett placed
his copy of the image on the projector.  Soon the jury was comparing the
digitally altered image of the Hispanic/Asian appearing Alvarez with the bald,
black Beaumont.

“This is the drivers
license given to you by the man calling himself Scott Stevens, isn’t it?”
Beckett asked.

“Yes, sir,”
Smith said with some embarrassment.  She bit her lip.

“You made this
photocopy yourself didn’t you, when you opened the file?”

“Yes sir, I
did.”

“Does that look
like Mr. Beaumont to you?”

Smith set down
her copy.  “No sir, it doesn’t.  I’m sorry.”

“There’s no
reason to be sorry, Ms. Smith.  Trials are about finding the truth.  Let’s just
make sure we get this right.  They’re not even the same race, are they?”

“No sir, it
doesn’t appear that way. . . not at all,” she added.

“Is it possible
you were mistaken when you told this jury that Mr. Beaumont was the man who
opened the Stevens account?”

“I. . . uh, I
think I was wrong.  I’m very sorry.”

“Then it wasn’t
Beaumont that opened the account?”

“No sir, it
wasn’t.”  She looked at Beaumont and blushed.  “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Thank you, Ms.
Smith.”  Beckett returned to his seat.

Judge Sutherlin
stopped the proceedings early the first day because he needed to handle three
minor matters on his docket.  This gave Eddie Pierce extra time to find and
browbeat Paul Webb.  Webb stood with his back against the bookcase in Pierce’s
office.  Pierce stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded and a
nasty frown on his lips.

“Listen to me, Officer. 
If you don’t testify, this case will die.  That monster will escape.  Do you
want that on your conscience?”