Page 131 of One of Us Is Guilty

She had done well yesterday.

Today would be different.

I stared at her for a moment, letting the anticipation build. Came around the defense table and stood in front of the jury.

I opened my mouth, hesitated, then returned to the defense table and picked up the three empty glasses that sat there. A fresh jug of water was provided by the court staff every morning. With my back to the witness, I poured two glasses of water. One for Vanessa, one for Harry. I placed Harry’s glass in front of him, and Vanessa’s in front of her. She mouthed a thank you.

I poured a glass for me, took a sip.

I could almost hear Tanner’s blood pressure surging.

‘Ask you quite ready, Mr. Flynn?’ she asked.

I put down the water, turned and faced the witness.

‘Yes, Your Honor. Detective Carey, how can you be sure the woman in the video footage the jury saw yesterday is my client, Vanessa Vanderpool?’

This was about the worst question any defense attorney could have asked. And I put it in the worst way possible. A pure, open question. The equivalent of an underarm pitch in professional baseball that a half-blind batter could send into the fourth row of the bleachers. Carey now had an opportunity to lay out her case against the defendant, and repeat all of the worst parts in great detail.

Two of Riley’s assistant DAs whispered something, tried to suppress their laughter.

Riley wasn’t laughing. He was smart enough to know if I was going to show my ass in court there had to be a good reason.

‘Can I refer to the footage of the security camera again, please,’ said Detective Carey, and Riley’s assistants put it on the big screen for the whole court to see. Then she doubled down on the damage she’d caused yesterday.

‘This woman shown entering the building is wearing white pants, white blouse and light brown overcoat. She has long blonde hair, and although we can’t see her face in this clip we do get a better look when she exits the building. Can we see that clip?’

The prosecution loaded up the second clip.

‘As you can see,’ continued Carey, ‘this is the defendant. We can get a very clear view of her face. It’s a much closer angle, and we can see she has the same hair and she’s wearing the exact same outfit – white pants, white blouse and light brown overcoat. Only difference this time is she’s carrying a Nike bag with what we believe to be the victim’s head inside.’

Carey smiled at me when she finished her answer.

This was a lot easier than she’d expected. I had to start pushing back. Just a little.

‘You don’t know for sure what is in that bag, do you, Detective?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘And you are sure that both women seen in those clips are in fact the same person, the defendant, Mrs. Vanderpool?’

‘I am certain. The images, especially the second image, are crystal clear. It’s high resolution so I can almost read the brand label on the top button of her pants. The image could not be clearer.’

‘Let’s be sure. Mrs. Vanderpool, would you just stand up for a second, please?’ I asked.

As Vanessa stood, I saw a creeping realization spread over her face.

Now she knew why I’d asked her to dress like this today.

In court, she wore white pants. A white blouse, and a light colored, fawn jacket. Not the same overcoat, but the same color of jacket.

I approached the defense table, stood in front of it and turned back to Detective Carey.

‘Do you mean an outfit very similar to this?’

As I asked this, staring at the witness, I drew my right hand up, by my side, to point at the defendant.

My hand hit the full glass of water at speed, sending it tumbling over the defense table and Vanessa.