Page 100 of Dissection of a Murder
“He thought he could sort it out more quickly if he dealt with it,” Quinn says.
“ ‘Sort it out more quickly’?”
“He didn’t want to get anyone else involved.”
“Was he scared of confronting this man, who is—in your own words from a few moments ago—‘intimidating’?”
“No, he was just trying to protect me.” Quinn frowns. I’ve rattled his cage.
“What was his ‘demeanor’ like when you last saw him?”
“He wasn’t happy about what Jack had been doing.”
“Is it right to say he was agitated?”
“I suppose so…he just wanted it to stop.”
“Upset? I mean, he must have been, if a ‘thug’ had been harassing his son.”
“Yes.”
“Angry?”
“Yes…”
“Very angry?”
He realizes too late where I’ve taken him. I watch as his face changes. Confidence is replaced with panic.
“But my father wasn’t a violent man,” he attempts to backtrack.
“Wasn’t he?” I ask, without looking at him and turning to look at the jury.
“He’d never harm anyone or even attempt to harm anyone. If that’s whathe’ssaying, that’s not what happened at all.”
“Well, you weren’t there, Mr. Smythe, so you are unable to comment. You’ve told this jury that your father was upset, angry, and agitated before going to confront a man who had been harassing you. They can decide what state of mind your father was in. This alleged intimidating behavior—did it only take place at the club?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mr. Millman ever approach you outside the club?”
His eyes drift off to the side, into the distance. It is, of course, atactic many witnesses use to appear to be thinking about something before they outright lie to the court.
“Erm…no.”
“To be clear, and remember you are under oath, you’re saying this harassment—this contact with Mr. Millman—only ever happened within Innocence?”
“Yes.”
Liar.
I force a silence upon the courtroom, longer than necessary—perhaps ten seconds or so. Just to make him feel uncomfortable. He squirms and doesn’t know where to look. His breath is uneven. I bet there’s a film of sweat on his neck. He knows I’m onto him.
“Did a grievance of any other kind exist between you and Mr. Millman?” I ask him, shattering the stillness.
He hesitates for a millisecond. His eyes flick toward Jack.
“No.”
