'Thirty minutes or so. Depends on the traffic.'
'You drive then?'
'Yes.'
'How long did you work for Mr Delaney?'
'Seventeen years.'
'And you were his personal secretary?'
'Executive secretary was my title,' she said proudly.
'And how long did you hold that position?'
'Nine years.'
'In that position, did you have occasion or occasions to go to Mr Delaney's apartment in the Lofts Apartments on Astor Street?'
'Yes.'
'Frequently?'
'Yes. He liked to work there, away from the bustle of the office. I frequently took files, letters to sign, or took dictation over there.'
'And did you have a key to that apartment?'
Venable started to object to the question, then thought better of it and kept quiet.
'Yes.'
'Where is that key now?'
'I, uh, it's on my keyring with my other keys.'
'And where are they?'
'The police took them when they arrested me.'
'So the police have the key now?'
'Yes.'
'Now, Mrs Stoddard, I want to ask you about the gun. You do own a gun, do you not?'
'Yes.'
'What calibre?'
'It's a .38.'
'Make?'
'Smith and Weston.'
'You mean Smith and Wesson?'
'I guess. Yes.'
'Where did you acquire this gun?'
'The Sergeant York gun store on Wabash.'
'Do you recall when you purchased it?'
'It was about a month ago. I don't remember the exact day.'
'How much did you pay for the gun in question?'
'One hundred and thirty-five dollars.'
'Why did you buy a gun?'
'For protection.'
'Did you carry this gun with you all the time?'
Pause. 'Yes.'
'You seem uncertain, Mrs Stoddard.'
'I was. I was trying to remember if I ever left it home. I don't think I did.'
'Where did you carry it?'
'I just told you, everywhere.'
'No, I mean, where did you keep the gun when you were carrying it?'
'In my handbag.'
'And when you were at the office?'
'In my middle desk drawer on the left side. I locked it.'
'And at night?'
'Under my mattress.'
'In your bedroom?'
'Yes.'
'Where is this weapon now?'
'I, uh, lost it.'
'How? I mean, if you kept it in your handbag and you locked it in the desk drawer and you kept it under the mattress at home, how did you manage to lose it? Is there a possibility that somebody stole the gun from your drawer at work?'
'I don't think… Maybe.'
'So what happened to the gun?'
'I guess maybe… it must have fallen out of my bag.'
'Was this after you shot Delaney?'
'Objection. Come on, Counsellor, there's been no admission -'
'We have Mrs Stoddard's confession -'
'Which she has recanted, as you well know. It was given under duress, she was emotionally disturbed at the time…'
'Did you lose the gun after Delaney was killed, Mrs Stoddard?' Parver said, cutting off Venable's objection.
'I still don't like the question. I would prefer that you ask her when she lost it.'
'All right, Mrs Stoddard, when did you lose the gun in question?'
'I'm not sure. I first noticed it when I got home from work Thursday night.'
'That was the night Delaney was killed, was it not?' Parver looked at the Venable and raised an eyebrow.
'Yes,' Mrs Stoddard said.
'Now, Mrs Stoddard, did you know anything about guns when you purchased this Smith and Wesson .38?'
'No.'
'Did you take lessons?'
'Yes, that's right, I took lessons.'
'To become proficient in its use, right?'
'Yes.'
'And where did you take these lessons?'
'On Pershing Street, the Shooting Club.'
'How proficient did you become, Mrs Stoddard?'
'That's a relative question, Counsellor. Would you rephrase, please?'
'Relative to what?' Parver demanded.
'Mrs Stoddard has already stated that she knew nothing about guns. She has no point of reference for a comparison.'
'Mrs Stoddard, did you stop taking lessons?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'The instructor told me I was good enough.'
'Everything, right? Loading, cleaning it, shooting?'
'Yes.'
'And you became good enough to discontinue the lessons, is that a fair statement?'
'I guess so.'
'Did the instructor agree that you didn't need any further lessons?'
'Yes.'
'And you purchased bullets for this weapon?'
'Yes.'
'Do you know how many bullets you bought?'
'Two boxes.'
'How many bullets in a box?'
'Fifty.'
'And did you keep your gun loaded?'
'Yes.'
'How many shells did it hold?'
'Six.'
'And where do you keep the remaining shells?'
'On a shelf in my bedroom closet.'
'Is that closet locked?'
'No. Why would I—'
Venable gently laid her hand over Stoddard's and shook her head, but Parver chose to ignore the comment. She opened her briefcase and took out a grey piece of paper that was folded over twice. She opened it up and laid it on the table in front of Stoddard.
'Mrs Stoddard, this is a target we obtained from the Shooting Club. You left it behind the last day you were there and they saved it. They assumed you would be back in from time to time to practice and they thought you might like to keep it.'
Venable looked down at the target, which was the customary black human silhouette on white background normally used in target ranges. There were six bullet holes, all tightly grouped in the area of the heart.
'Do you recognize the target, Mrs Stoddard?'
'That could be anyone's target, Counsellor,' Venable snapped. 'All targets look alike.'
'They don't all have your client's name and the date written on the bottom,' said Parver. She pointed to the two lines scribbled in one corner. 'They did this to identify it for her.'
'Then I guess it's mine,' Stoddard said.
'That's from twenty-five yards, Mrs Stoddard. You're pretty good.'
Edith Stoddard didn't answer immediately. Finally she shrugged. 'Most of the people at the range are that good.'
'What kind of bag do you carry, Mrs Stoddard?'
'It's a Louis Vuitton. Just a standard handbag.'
'That's the one about eight inches long and four or five inches deep, right?' Parver said, measuring out the general dimensions in the air with her hands.
'I guess.'
'And what do you normally carry in it?'
'What's the relevance of this?' Venable asked.
'Bear with me, please,' Parver said without changing her tone. She reached down to the floor and put her bulky leather bag on the desk. It was jammed with stuff. 'This is my bag, Mrs Stoddard,' Parver said, and laughed. 'As you can see, I've got everything in here but a set of the Encyclopedia Britannica.'
Edith Stoddard's face softened slightly and a smile flirted briefly with her lips. 'Was your bag jam-packed like mine?'
Stoddard chuckled. 'I can't imagine having that much to carry in a handbag.'
'So your bag was fairly neat and uncluttered, would that be a fair assessment?'
'Yes. My wallet, chequebook, keys, Kleenex. Sometimes a paperback, if I was reading one. I sometimes read while eating lunch.'
'Mrs Stoddard, do you have any idea how much your gun weighed?' Parver said, checking t
hrough her notes.
'No.'
Parver hesitated a moment, then turned a page. 'One pound six ounces loaded,' she said. 'Enough to be noticeable when you were carrying it in that small, uncluttered handbag, wouldn't you agree?'
'I… suppose so,' Stoddard said cautiously.
'What I mean is, this gun was for your protection, isn't that what you said?'
'Yes.'
'So wouldn't it be natural to be aware of the weight, know it was there in case of trouble?'
'Objection. She carried the gun for three weeks. More than enough time to become accustomed to the weight.'
'Uh-huh. Now, Mrs Stoddard, you say you put the gun in your desk drawer and locked it. Can you recall for me the last time you specifically remember putting the gun in that drawer?'
'Come on, Counsellor, she was upset, distressed over...'
'Mrs Stoddard, when were you informed you were being retired?' Parver said, cutting off Venable.
'On Thursday.'
'You had no idea before that?'
'There was nothing official.'
'I didn't ask you that. Did you have any indication, prior to Thursday morning when Delaney replaced you, that you would be leaving?'
'There were rumours. There are always rumours.'
'And when did you first hear these rumours?'
'You know how rumours are, you don't remember when you hear a thing. I don't even remember who said it.'
'Had this been going on for a while? The rumours, I mean?'
'She just told you, Counsellor, she doesn't know when they started,' Venable said. 'I'm going to intercede here. You're dealing in hearsay. Also it's immaterial - '
'On the contrary, Ms Venable, it's quite material. Some of the other employees say it's been fairly common knowledge - that Delaney was planning to replace Edith, I mean - since just after Christmas. That's two months.'
'I am advising my client not to answer any more questions related to what she may or may not have heard or when she may or may not have heard it or who she may or may not have heard it from. She's already told you, she heard it from Delaney last Thursday morning. That's when it became a fact of life for her.'
'Mrs Stoddard, on Thursday morning when Delaney told you he was replacing you, what was your immediate reaction?'
'I was, uh, I was shocked and, uh, I guess angry…upset, confused…'
'Confused?'
'I wanted to know why. All he said, all he ever said was, "Edith, it's time for a change." My whole life was… Everything was turned topsy-turvy in just a few minutes because it was… it was time for a change. Yes, I was upset and confused and angry. I was all those things!'
'When was the last time you saw Delaney?'
'He told me I would be paid for two weeks and I could have until Friday to clean out my things. I think the last time was when he left for lunch Thursday.'
'The day he was killed?'
'Yes.'
'And Friday was to be your last day?'
'Yes. I guess he thought my replacement could learn the job over the weekend and be ready to start Monday morning.' She stopped for a moment and looked down at her hands, folded on the table in front of her. 'Sorry, that was sarcastic of me. I'm sure she had been working with Mr Delaney for weeks, maybe months.'
'So now tell me, when was the last time you specifically remember locking the gun in your desk drawer?'
'I guess it was Wednesday.'
'So Thursday you kept the gun in your bag, is that it?'
'Objection. She has already stated that she doesn't remember. She's guessing it was Wednesday.'
'So you don't remember whether you had the gun Thursday or not?'
'That's what she said, Counsellor.'
'I just want to clarify, as closely as possible, when she lost the weapon.'
'It was Thursday,' Stoddard said suddenly. 'I remember putting it in my bag Thursday when I left the house. I'm just hazy about what I did with it after that. It was a very upsetting day. People coming up, telling me they were sorry. That kind of thing.'
'So let's recap for a minute. You bought the gun, took lessons, became proficient in its use' - Parver tapped the target lying on the table - 'and carried it in your bag for protection. At the office you locked it in your desk drawer and at night you kept it under your mattress. The last time you remember seeing the gun was when you put it in your bag Thursday when you left for work. Then you got to the office and Delaney called you in and retired you. And you don't remember anything about the gun or its whereabouts after that. Is that correct?'
'Yes.'
'Good. Now let's get to Thursday. Tell me in your own words what you did that day and evening - up until you went to bed that night.'
'After Mr Delaney told me, gave me the news, I went outside. There's a little picnic area behind the building. People eat lunch there, go outside to smoke, you know, a nice little place to take a break. And I sat outside for a while. I don't know how long. I think… I may have… I guess I cried. It was such a shock, finally realizing it was true, and I was trying to get my wits together - '
'Excuse me, Mrs Stoddard, I'm sorry to interrupt, but you just said, 'It was such a shock, finally realizing it was true.' So you were aware of the rumours, weren't you?'
'Objection,' Venable said sternly, 'that's a conclusion on your part.'
Parver's voice remained calm. 'Not my conclusion, Counsellor. She has admitted she heard the rumours - '
'She hasn't admitted a damn thing!'
Parver turned back to Edith Stoddard. 'You had been hearing these rumours, had you not?'
'Don't answer that,' Venable snapped.
'!…!…' Stoddard stammered. 'All right,'
Parver said softly, 'we'll move on. You were saying you were trying to get your wits together?'
Stoddard, rattled, began dry-washing her hands. She licked her lips and said weakly: 'Yes, uh, trying to, you know, I have a full-time housekeeper for Charley during the day and my daughter is going to the university and she lives at the school and, uh, I was… I don't know how long I sat out there. Some of the people came out and talked to me, told me they were sorry. Finally I just couldn't take it any longer, so I went back upstairs and got a box and started getting my things together. One of the women, Mr Delaney asked one of the women to sit there, you know, when I gathered up my things, I guess so I wouldn't… wouldn't steal anything. I really didn't keep many personal things in the desk, anyway.'
'Did you have anything in that middle desk drawer on the left? The one you kept locked?'
'No, there were mainly backup disks from the computer and some confidential files of Mr Delaney's.'
'But you did check it?'
'Yes.'
'Was the gun in the drawer when you checked it?'
'I, uh…'
'We've been over this,' Venable said. 'She said she doesn't remember where the gun was.'
'I realize that. But she was getting her personal things together and she checked that drawer, and certainly if the gun was in there she would have removed it since it was a personal item. Isn't that true, Mrs Stoddard?'
'She says she doesn't remember!'
'Can she answer the question, please? Mrs Stoddard, did you take anything out of the drawer of a personal nature?'
'She… doesn't… remember,' Venable snapped.
'Well, what did you remove from the desk?'
'Some make-up. A Montblanc pen that was a Christmas gift. Uh, uh, some photographs of my family. A dictionary. I can't…'
Stoddard looked helplessly at Venable and started to shake her head. Her hands were trembling. Venable could see she was losing it, beginning to fall apart.
'Can we move on, Shana?' said Venable. 'What she took from the desk is really immaterial. She was obviously distraught…'
Parver leaned back and turned off the tape recorder. 'Would you like to take a break?' she asked.
'I want to get this over with,' Edith Stoddard said in almost a whisper.
> Parver pressed the record button again.
'I left the office early. At lunchtime. And I drove around a while. I drove into the city, to Grant Park, and sat by the fountain for the longest time.'
'Was that the Great Lakes Fountain?'
'Buckingham.'
'So you sat by Buckingham Fountain and just cleared your mind?'
'Tried to. I just stared out at the lake.'
'Where did you park?'
'The indoor parking deck by the art institute.'
'Is it possible someone could've broken into your car while you were over by the fountain?'
'Nobody broke into my car. It was locked and nobody broke into it.'
'How long were you in the park?'
'I don't know. I got cold and left after a while. An hour, maybe.'
'Then what?'
'I went over to the gift shop at the art institute and bought Angel a shoulder bag.'
'Angel, that's what you call your daughter?'
She nodded. 'It was one of those canvas bags to carry her books in. I remembered that hers was… it was pretty worn and she had mentioned she needed a new one and I went into the institute to get warm and I remembered that, so I went to the gift shop and bought it. Twelve dollars.'
'It cost twelve dollars?'
'Uh-huh. And at four o'clock I went to the lab on Ellis Street - Angel has lab on Thursdays - and waited for her and we went across the street to the bookstore and had coffee and I gave her the canvas bag, and, uh… and then I, uh… I told her what happened and she was… she was so very… upset.'
Stoddard's voice broke and she stared down at her lap.
Parver snapped off the recorder again, reached into her over-stuffed bag, and slid a box of Kleenex across the table to her.
'Thank you.'
She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose and then straightened her back and nodded. Parver started the recording machine.
'You see, she has this scholarship, but it's not enough to… She studies very hard, A average, and maybe she'd have to get a job and she got furious over that, so we left and I took her back to the house. She cried all the way home. It was very traumatic. So sad. She didn't want to see any of her friends. So I suggested that she spend the night at home.'