Nothing but the Truth Read Online Free PDF

It happens here in the nineties.”
     
     
    “And that didn’t bother him? Being the man and not making any money.”
     
     
    “I just said that. It didn’t seem to.” Her voice took on a sharp edge. “I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.”
     
     
    “I’m trying to find out who killed Mrs. Beaumont.”
     
     
    “Well, it wasn’t Ron. He was with me when she died. We were having coffee at the Starbucks on Twenty-eighth and Geary, near Merryvale School.” This seemed to remind her of something and she glanced up at the wall clock, pursed her lips.
     
     
    Scott Randall pushed ahead. “And how did that come about?”
     
     
    “What?”
     
     
    “Having coffee.”
     
     
    “I don’t even understand that question. We just decidedto go get a cup of coffee. There wasn’t anything sinister about it.”
     
     
    “I didn’t say there was.”
     
     
    “Well, it seems to me you implied it. We met at school dropping off the kids, and Ron said he felt like a cup of coffee and I said I thought that sounded good. So we both went.”
     
     
    Again, she glanced at the wall clock. “Look, I’m sorry, but are we almost done here? I’ve got to go pick up my kids pretty soon.”
     
     
    “When we’re done,” Scott replied. “After we’re done.”
     
     
    Scott did not view himself as a cruel person, but a woman’s tears on a witness stand were as unimportant as the temperature in the room, or the lighting. Sometimes you had to deal with them, that was all. But you had no feelings about them one way or the other.
     
     
    Frannie Hardy, on the stand before him now, crying, did not make his heart go all soft. True enough, she was quite lovely, well dressed, with striking green eyes and bright red hair, and if he’d been anywhere but in a courtroom with her, he might have had other thoughts. But not now. She’d brought her troubles upon herself and now she was paying the price.
     
     
    She wasn’t sobbing. Scott was sure these were tears of anger. He didn’t care.
     
     
    “You have to let me make my phone call.”
     
     
    “No, ma’am, I’m sorry. You’re staying here.”
     
     
    “You told me we’d be finished by now.”
     
     
    Scott shrugged. “I said we might be. It was possible. I thought we would be, but you’re not answering my questions. That’s slowing things down.”
     
     
    It was already half an hour past when she was supposed to have left to pick up her children. She’d been on the stand for two hours.
     
     
    “Let’s go over this one more time, all right?”
     
     
    “I’m not saying anything until you let me use the phone.”
     
     
    It had devolved into a pitched battle of wills, and Scott held the high ground. He made the rules in this room, and Mrs. Hardy was going to play by them.
     
     
    Scott had long since abandoned the casual approach. He was standing at one end of the front table so he could look now at Mrs. Hardy and now at his jurors.
     
     
    “Mrs. Hardy, you’re putting me in an awkward position. As it stands now, if you don’t answer my questions you’re going to force me to go to a judge in the Superior Court and get a contempt citation issued against you. You might very well get thrown in jail, do you understand that? If that happens, if it gets to there, then you’ll get your phone call to your attorney. But I’m not letting you off this stand in the middle of your testimony. We can be finished here in ten minutes if you cooperate, but if you don’t, it’s going to be a long afternoon.
     
     
    “Now,” Scott pressed her. “Let’s try again one more time. You have testified that you knew—Ron Beaumont had confided in you—that his relationship with his wife was in a difficult stage. Isn’t that true?”
     
     
    “Yes, he told me that.”
     
     
    “And did he tell you the nature of these difficulties?”
     
     
    “A little bit.”
     
     
    “Did Mr. Beaumont tell you anything that suggested he was unhappy or angry