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IS DORA’S DAD?” and the story inside reported:
Annabelle Welburn Murray, the murdered debutante-turned-publisher, was involved in a torrid affair with Victor Bell, a 35-year-old African-American sales representative for Bingham & Stone, publishers of numerous celebrity memoirs and home to several best-selling novelists.
It is believed that Mrs. Murray, doubtful that her husband was actually the biological father of their only child, subjected Dora, aged three, to DNA testing a week before she died. The results of those tests have not been released.
Although a spokesperson at Bingham & Stone refused to comment, book-publishing insiders agree that the normally taciturn Mr. Bell is “a very private individual who rarely talks about his personal life.” Now they all know why.
Everyone in the Black Pack (except Joe and Victor) was trying to reach me, but I only took Elaine’s calls. She was handling our project with brisk efficiency—her publisher was now in on our secret and had granted her a blank check to make the book happen.
Every single one of the news bulletins reviewed my career, arrest, and upcoming trial.
With investigative reporters from the National Enquirer to Newsweek working on the story and poking holes in both Annabelle’s reputation and the district attorney’s case, there was nothing left for me to do.
I had fought the good fight and now the days stretched before me. Keith was busy with jury selection, pretrial motions, and other legal maneuverings designed to save my life.
34
THE PEOPLE VS. JACQUELINE BLUE
Paul’s arm around my shoulder and Mama’s presence at my side were the only things that kept me from falling apart as we marched behind Keith up the steps of the courthouse, through the hallway, into the elevator, and then out into another hallway with the media and the curious hot on our heels. I saw Tiffany Nixon and she turned her face away.
Pam and Alyssa managed to squeeze through the throng. They squeezed my hand. Alyssa whispered, “Stay strong, Jackie. Remember, we’ve got your back.” I blinked my tears away and gave her a grateful smile.
Keith and I scrutinized the jam-packed courtroom. The only people I recognized were Tiffany Nixon and Jamal Hunt, who was peering around and scribbling on a pad. I knew that his next book would contain a remarkably realistic courtroom scene.
“Sit here,” Keith said, indicating the space beside him at the defense table.
Judge Madeline Veronsky, a cherubic figure in her stern black robes, called for order in the room.
The anorexic-looking woman whom I’d last seen the morning I was released from jail was the prosecutor. Ruth Champ paced back and forth in front of the jury throughout her opening statement.
The mouths of Veronksy and Champ were set in rigid Thin Pink Lines during the entire trial.
Champ said, “The State of New York will prove that Jacqueline Blue, with the intent to cause the death of Mrs. Annabelle Murray, did in fact cause her death; that as Mrs. Murray turned to retrieve an appointment book that the defendant claimed to have left in her home by accident, Miss Blue punched her in the back of the head, dragged Mrs. Murray into her own bathroom, and strangled her. She then ran from the building, jumped into a cab, and went to work at Welburn Books, a company that Mrs. Murray’s family has owned since 1899. Why? Because Jacqueline Blue is an aggressive and hostile woman who has a gigantic chip on her shoulder, and when Annabelle Murray decided not to promote her to a higher position, that huge chip became a murder weapon.”
The journalists assembled in the row in back of me scrawled rapidly, drafting pieces of writing that they would have to turn into polished articles and news reports in time for tomorrow’s newspapers and early morning broadcasts.
At ten o’clock, Keith began his opening statement. “Ms. Champ has just told you that she will prove Jacqueline Blue guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you that the evidence will show that Ms. Blue did not murder anyone. She is, in fact, still mourning Mrs. Annabelle Murray, who was not only her employer, but a friend. When you have heard all of the evidence in this case, you will have to conclude that Jacqueline Blue paid her boss a visit on that fateful morning to retrieve her personal property and that when she left the apartment, Annabelle Murray was still alive and unharmed. When you have heard the testimony of those who came into contact with Ms. Blue that morning, you will conclude that Ms. Blue had no knowledge of the terrible tragedy until all the employees at Welburn Books were informed shortly before noon of that awful day. What is more, you will ultimately realize that the position Ms. Blue wanted was not worth killing for. It would have been far easier for Ms. Blue to obtain that same position at another book publishing firm.”
I sat at the defense table with my hands folded in front of me like an obedient third-grader.
In a criminal trial, the prosecution presents its case first. Ruth Champ started off with a parade of forensic people, the coroner, and other scientific types to establish the gory details of Annabelle’s death. On cross-examination, Keith got the coroner to admit that the person who strangled Annabelle was either a man or an extraordinarily strong woman because her larynx had been crushed.
When Astrid Norstromm took the stand, her Thin Pink Line was already in place. Champ approached her with an air of sympathy.
“Will you please state your full legal name and occupation?”
“My name is Astrid Norstromm and I’m executive editor at Welburn Books.”
“How long have you worked for Welburn Books?”
“One year.”
Champ gave me a withering glance and then spoke directly to Astrid. “Have you ever had the chance to interact with Miss Blue?”
Astrid glared at me before turning to face the jury. “Yes, on several occasions.”
“Please face forward, Miss Norstromm.”
