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Are You Afraid Of The Dark :: Sheldon Sidney
Страница: 6 из 173" "And then?" "I drove away." "With a flat tire?" "Yes.
Time for a little ripple in the water. "Why didn't you wait for the police?" Diane glanced toward the defense table. Altieri was watching her with naked malevolence.
She looked away. "I couldn't stay there because I-I was afraid that the men might come out of the cabin and see me." "That's very understandable." Rubenstein's voice hardened. "What is not understandable is that when the police responded to your 911 call, they went into the cabin, and not only was no one there, Mrs. Stevens, but they could find no sign that anyone had been there, let alone been murdered there." "I can't help that. I-" "You're an artist, aren't you?" She was taken aback by the question. "Yes, I-" "Are you successful?" "I suppose so, but what does-?" It was time to yank the hook.
"A little extra publicity never hurts, does it? The whole country watches you on the nightly news report on television, and on the front pages of-" Diane looked at him, furious. "I didn't do this for publicity. I would never send an innocent man to-" "The key word is innocent, Mrs. Stevens. And I will prove to you and the ladies and gentlemen of the jury that Mr. Altieri is innocent. Thank you. You're finished." Diane Stevens ignored the double entendre. When she stepped down to return to her seat, she was seething. She whispered to the prosecuting attorney, "Am I free to go?" "Yes. I'll send someone with you." "That won't be necessary. Thank you." She headed for the door and walked out to the parking garage, the words of the defense attorney ringing in her ears.
You're an artist, aren't you?… A little extra publicity never hurts, does it? It was degrading. Still, all in all, she was satisfied with the way her testimony had gone. She had told the jury exactly what she had seen, and they had no reason to doubt her. Anthony Altieri was going to be convicted and sent to prison for the rest of his life. Yet Diane could not help thinking of the venomous looks he had given her, and she felt a little shiver.
She handed the parking attendant her ticket and he went to get her car.
Two minutes later, Diane was driving onto the street, heading north, on her way home.
* * *
THERE WAS A stop sign at the corner. As Diane braked to a halt, a well-dressed young man standing at the curb approached the car. "Excuse me. I'm lost. Could you-?" Diane lowered her window.
"Could you tell me how to get to the Holland Tunnel?" He spoke with an Italian accent.
"Yes. It's very simple.
Time for a little ripple in the water. "Why didn't you wait for the police?" Diane glanced toward the defense table. Altieri was watching her with naked malevolence.
She looked away. "I couldn't stay there because I-I was afraid that the men might come out of the cabin and see me." "That's very understandable." Rubenstein's voice hardened. "What is not understandable is that when the police responded to your 911 call, they went into the cabin, and not only was no one there, Mrs. Stevens, but they could find no sign that anyone had been there, let alone been murdered there." "I can't help that. I-" "You're an artist, aren't you?" She was taken aback by the question. "Yes, I-" "Are you successful?" "I suppose so, but what does-?" It was time to yank the hook.
"A little extra publicity never hurts, does it? The whole country watches you on the nightly news report on television, and on the front pages of-" Diane looked at him, furious. "I didn't do this for publicity. I would never send an innocent man to-" "The key word is innocent, Mrs. Stevens. And I will prove to you and the ladies and gentlemen of the jury that Mr. Altieri is innocent. Thank you. You're finished." Diane Stevens ignored the double entendre. When she stepped down to return to her seat, she was seething. She whispered to the prosecuting attorney, "Am I free to go?" "Yes. I'll send someone with you." "That won't be necessary. Thank you." She headed for the door and walked out to the parking garage, the words of the defense attorney ringing in her ears.
You're an artist, aren't you?… A little extra publicity never hurts, does it? It was degrading. Still, all in all, she was satisfied with the way her testimony had gone. She had told the jury exactly what she had seen, and they had no reason to doubt her. Anthony Altieri was going to be convicted and sent to prison for the rest of his life. Yet Diane could not help thinking of the venomous looks he had given her, and she felt a little shiver.
She handed the parking attendant her ticket and he went to get her car.
Two minutes later, Diane was driving onto the street, heading north, on her way home.
* * *
THERE WAS A stop sign at the corner. As Diane braked to a halt, a well-dressed young man standing at the curb approached the car. "Excuse me. I'm lost. Could you-?" Diane lowered her window.
"Could you tell me how to get to the Holland Tunnel?" He spoke with an Italian accent.
"Yes. It's very simple.