Page 83 of The Accomplice
EDDIE
White had no more questions for the ink-stained DNA expert.
When one of your witnesses implodes on the stand, there are two responses. Try and patch up the damage, or get them out of there as quickly as possible and get a fresh witness in front of that jury. The prosecutor opted for the latter. It would need to be a good witness. One that is more or less unshakable.
‘The people call Mrs. Daisy Broder.’
Perfect.
A small woman with white hair, wearing a smart gray suit and a blue and white pin-striped blouse, strode confidently along the aisle. She moved so well it reminded me of those prank TV shows where stuntmen were covered in prosthetics and make-up and passed off as an old guy until they got onto a skateboard and started pulling outrageous tricks. Mrs. Broder could’ve been a stuntwoman in disguise. Thin flesh hung from her bones as if all the muscle had been sucked out. Hands misshapen with arthritis. Age had written its story across her skin with fine wrinkles just about everywhere, and liver spots along the back of her wrists and forehead.
Seeing an opportunity, White rose from his seat and hustled around the desk so he could hold out an arm for Mrs. Broder. He was going to support her as she stepped into the witness stand.
She waved him away. Mrs. Broder didn’t need any help. It made White look a little foolish, but he smiled at her as warmly as he could fake it, and then returned behind the prosecution table. Mrs. Broder swore on the Bible to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but, so help her, God. I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve watched taking that oath. Most are nervous, getting mixed up what hand to put on the Bible, sweating and stumbling through that oath even while the clerk is helping them to recite it. All they have to do is repeat what the clerk says. Some take it seriously, or pretend to at least – trying to give off a sense of sincerity, when really all they’re projecting is how much of a hypocrite they really are.
Mrs. Broder, though, she was serious. Repeated every word the clerk said, out loud, like she meant it. Like she was reciting the pledge of allegiance in the first game of the World Series from the pitcher’s mound at Yankee Stadium. When she was finished and the judge invited her to sit, she thanked him like he was a stupid but much beloved grandchild.
‘Mrs. Broder,’ began White. ‘Do you remember where you were on the night of June tenth last year ?’
She nodded, said, ‘Young man, I know exactly where I was, what I was doing and what happened that night.’
White smiled and threw me a glance to say that this witness wouldn’t take any of my shit. I didn’t need him to tell me that. Mrs. Broder was going to be a handful. Some witnesses you just can’t shake. They’re ironclad. Kate was relying on me. On Harry. On Bloch.
‘Just listen,’ whispered Harry. ‘There’s always an opening. Just wait for it.’
‘Mrs. Broder, why don’t you tell us where you were, and what you saw that night.’
‘I was watching a movie.Predator, with Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was about halfway through, at the point where Hawkins gets killed, when I happened to glance out of the window and saw a couple on the other side of the street. They were walking past the Nielsen house, but they were taking their time about it.’
‘What do you mean they were taking their time ?’
‘They were walking slowly past. It didn’t look like they were going anywhere. That’s what made them stand out. Everyone in New York is going somewhere. These people were not.’
‘What happened then ?’
‘Well, I didn’t think much of it. So, I went back to my movie. Maybe five minutes later, they came back. Walking past the house. Then they stopped, turned around and stood on the sidewalk just looking at the place.’
‘How long did they stand there ?’
‘Maybe five, ten minutes ?’
‘Did you recognize this couple ?’
‘Not at first. I didn’t know them. You see some strange things in this city, but I got a feeling from those two. It’s hard to describe. This may sound strange, but I got a bad feeling watching them. I paid close attention. I got a good look at their faces.’
‘When did you speak to the police, Mrs. Broder ?’
‘The next day I saw the police cars outside the Nielsen house. And the paramedics. They closed off a whole section of the street and I couldn’t go out to my class. But I went down and spoke to a police officer. I told him what I’d seen the night before.’
‘And what did he say ?’
‘He said they weren’t looking for a couple. It was one man, alone, he said.’
I could sense that White wanted to move on swiftly from the police officer’s mistake, but he paused. He thought it was more important the jury heard that Mrs. Broder had spoken to the police before Daniel Miller’s face appeared on every news channel, news website and newspaper in the country.
‘What happened next, Mrs. Broder ?’
‘Well, it was a couple of days at least, after that. The whole neighborhood was shook up. We knew that family. We saw those kids playing outside their house every day, coming home from school, going to the store. It was so shocking. I can’t remember how long it was after that night when I saw the man’s face again on the news. I called up the local precinct and by the time the officer came to my apartment there was another face on the news. It was the woman I’d seen. I didn’t know who they were at the time. But I knew it was them the moment I saw their picture.’
