Witless for the Prosecution
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, or anything by Agatha Christie. Rating: K Time: An AU future
The judge looked at his watch.
"I think we'll recess for the day. The court will reconvene at eleven o'clock tomorrow."
"That early?" Dewey said, looking pained.
"Make it two o'clock."
Rick, Meredith and his lawyers went back to the law offices.
"We've checked up on Mrs. Attila MacVorlag. She does hate you. She's been down at the Twist and Shout, drinking and telling anyone who'll listen that you killed her employer."
"That's awful." Meredith said. "Can't you stop her from doing that?"
"There's a great deal of difference between shooting your mouth off in some bar and testifying in court, besides, we know a few things about her." Dewey said with a smile.
The court reconvened the next afternoon. Mrs. MacVorlag was called to the witness stand and sworn in.
"Have you seen the defendant before, Mrs. MacVorlag?" Kate asked.
"You mean the swine that murdered Mrs. French? Aye, I know him."
"Objection!" Roared all three of Rick's lawyers in unison.
"You will confine yourself to answering the question asked of you and refrain from extraneous comments." The judge said sternly, waving the tiny gallows at Mrs. MacVorlag.
"I know him."
"Have he and his wife visited Mrs. French in the past?" Kate asked.
"They've been underfoot for some two months, eating her food and drinking her liquor."
"When did you last see the defendant?"
"The night poor Mrs. French was foully murdered. He came by himself and was there when I left at nine-fifteen, but I had to return as I'd forgotten my umbrella. I could hear them arguing in the parlor."
"What were they arguing about?" Kate asked.
"The door was closed, and I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were both angry."
"So, your testimony is that Mr. Castle was at the French home at nine twenty-five?"
"He was."
"I have no more questions." Kate said with a grin.
Cheatum stood up and approached the witness.
"You knew Mrs. French quite well, didn't you?"
"Yes. I served her for over three years."
"And didn't she have a favorite television program?"
"Objection." Kate said. "Relevance."
"The relevance will soon be clear, your honor." Cheatum said.
"Continue, but I expect to see the relevance quickly."
"She did."
"And wasn't that program the situation comedy, Pals, which was on the night of the murder between nine and nine thirty?"
"It was. So what?" Mrs. MacVorlag grumped.
"The episode was The One Where Everyone Parties Hearty, and at nine twenty-five Chandler and Monica were arguing loudly about who would get the last three kegs of beer. What you heard was not Mrs. French and Mrs. Castle, but the television."
"I know what I heard, and it was them, not the TV."
Cheatum turned away from Mrs. MacVorlag and spoke very loudly.
"How's your hearing, Mrs. MacVorlag?"
She made no reply.
Cheatum repeated the question, even more loudly.
"Fearing?" Mrs. MacVorlag said. "Why should I fear anything?"
Cheatum smiled.
"Mrs. MacVorlag, it appears that you're very hard of hearing, isn't that correct?"
"I know what I heard."
"Will you please answer the question?" Cheatum said in a whisper.
"Will you speak up?"
"I have no further questions for the witness."
Kate stood up.
"That's all we have, your honor. May I suggest we reconvene tomorrow?"
"Excellent idea. We'll reconvene tomorrow at two in the afternoon."
They were all quite happy when they returned to the law offices of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe.
"I think we've done quite well." Howe said with a smile. "They have no evidence linking you to the murder, and tomorrow you and your wife will testify."
"I'll be glad when this nightmare is over." Rick said.
"Me too." Meredith added.
The next day, Rick was put on the witness stand and questioned by Dewey. He explained how he and Meredith had met Mrs. French and become friends.
"Did you have any idea she had named you and your wife as the main beneficiaries in her will?"
"I had no idea until the police told me."
"Can you think of any reason she might have kept this from you?" Dewey asked.
"No."
"Can you please tell us where you were and what you did on the night of the murder?"
"I had gone to Mrs. French's by myself for dinner. Meredith wasn't feeling well. We ate and I left at about nine-fifteen and walked home. I arrived at about nine-twenty-five."
"Did you see anyone on your way home?"
"No one."
"What did you do when you found out about Mrs. French's murder?"
"Both Meredith and I went to the police and made a statement telling them what had happened that night."
"I have no further questions, your honor." Dewey said.
Kate rose from her chair and looked at Rick for a moment.
"You took ten minutes to walk to your home? Isn't that a long time? I walked it in just under two minutes and I wasn't hurrying."
Rick smiled.
"I'm a novelist. As I walk along, I try to imagine what's happening in the houses and shops that I pass. Or in empty lots and parks, parked cars…anything."
"I see." Kate said, glaring at him.
She went through her notes.
"Did you go to the Vorlag Elite Travel Agency on the Tuesday before the murder, Mr. Castle?"
"I'm not sure if it was a Tuesday, but I did go there."
"Did you enquire about a cruise that would cost some twelve thousand dollars per person?"
"Yes, I did."
"How could you have afforded that expensive a cruise?"
"Oh, I couldn't have."
"Then why did you go there? Did you expect some sort of windfall?"
"Oh, no. It was for research."
"Research?" Kate asked.
"Yes, I had previously written a book about a murder on a train, I was thinking about writing one about a murder on shipboard."
"Did you explain this to the travel agent?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"They're in business to make money, not to provide background for writers. I assumed if I had told them I had no intention of taking any cruise, they would have asked me to leave."
"I have no further questions for this witness." Kate said coldly.
Meredith was then put on the stand and questioned by Howe.
"Mrs. Castle, can you please tell us when your husband arrived home on the night in question?"
Meredith didn't say a word for a very long time.
"Mrs. Castle, can you please answer my question?" Howe said gently.
Meredith nodded.
"I can't lie for Rick. He came home about ten. He had blood on his hands. He told me he'd killed Mrs. French because he'd talked her into making him her heir. He washed his hands and bragged about how rich we'd be. I was terrified of him."
"Mrs. Castle, that is not what you said in your sworn statement. Did you lie under oath when you made that statement?" Howe said angrily.
"I did. Rick was right there. Who knows what he might have done if I'd told the truth."
Howe turned to the judge.
"Your honor, in light of this witness' perjured statement, I request a continuance of two days."
Judge Y.S. Vorlag nodded.
"Granted. It'll take at least that long to set up the gallows."
Rick noticed that now there was a small doll on the judge's miniature gallows with the rope around his neck. The doll looked like a ruggedly handsome man.
"Please," Meredith said, "I need police protection. Who knows what Rick might do to me."
"We'll be happy to provide that." Kate said. "We can have Sergeant Rysposito guard you. The sergeant has a black belt in karate, kung fu, jujitsu, and pillow fighting. The sergeant is an expert with edged weapons, such as the cutlass, the saber, the broadsword, the rapier, and the salad fork. And Sergeant Rysposito is an expert with all firearms up to and including the 8-inch nuclear capable howitzer." Kate frowned for a moment. "But perhaps that wasn't the best weapon to use in the famous Vorlag National Bank hostage crisis. Last, and certainly not least, she is the proud mother of twelve."
The court was adjourned, and Rick went back to his one room apartment in the Chateau Shabby. He looked around the small apartment and wondered what he had done to make Meredith hate him so much that she'd framed him for murder.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Answering it, he found it was his friend Bone Crusher Vorlag and a half a dozen members of the Hell's Vorlags.
"We heard that things didn't go so well for you today, Rick. So, me and some pals decided you needed some cheering up."
Rick was about to tell Bone Crusher that he was in no mood for being cheered up, but Bone Crusher and his friends were already inside.
"Here you go, Rick. We have a nice drink of rum, with Vorlag Cola and a bit of lemon for you."
Rick took the drink and decided it was good. Very good. He took another sip.
Much later, he woke up. His mouth felt like a camel had crawled into it and died, his eyelids seemed to be coated with sandpaper, his brain seemed to be trying to escape through his ears, his teeth itched, and his hair hurt. He looked around. The sun was rising.
He sat up. Big mistake.
"I don't remember anything about last night." He said.
"How about yesterday and the night before that?" Asked a cheerful Bone Crusher.
"What? I partied for two days?"
"You bet, pal. You're a real party animal."
"My trial resumes today. I have to get ready."
He tried to sit up again. Still a bad idea.
"Here, have some of this."
Bone Crusher handed him a glass of something. He drank it and felt better at once.
He got ready to go to court, and when he went downstairs, he found that there were fifty or more Hell's Vorlags ready to accompany him. They roared off to the courthouse on their choppers, with Rick hanging onto the back of Bone Crusher.
Rick was shocked to see that the media was out in full force.
"Yeah, your wife changing her testimony to accuse you made this big news." Bone Crusher said.
The Hell's Vorlags pushed their way through the media. Bone Crusher shouted, "Mr. Castle doesn't have a statement for the media yet, but he's confident he'll be vindicated."
Rick wasn't so sure he was confident and none of the reporters seemed to feel like challenging Bone Crusher's statement.
"All rise." Cried the bailiff. "Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Yosemite Sam Vorlag presiding."
"The prosecution calls Mrs. Meredith Castle to the stand." Kate said.
Meredith walked towards the witness stand when Dewey's foot slid into the aisle and Meredith tripped. When she fell, her purse went flying, the contents scattering on the floor. One item was particularly interesting.
"Look." Said Dewey. "A cosh and it seems to have blood on it. Could that be the murder weapon?"
"No." Meredith yelled. "I threw that into the village pond." A look of horror went across her face as she realized what she'd said.
Everyone was shocked. Kate was the first to react.
"The prosecution requests a continuance to consider this new evidence."
"Oh, all right." The judge said testily.
An hour later, Kate came back, and the court was again in session.
"The prosecution wishes to dismiss all charges against Mr. Richard Castle." She said.
"Do you at least have some other miscreant, Ms. Beckett?"
"We do, your honor."
"Case dismissed."
"What happened?" Rick asked Dewey.
"Once Beckett started interrogating her, Meredith folded like a cheap accordion. She convinced Mrs. French to change her will. She told French she wanted to surprise you, so French didn't tell you. Once the will was done, Meredith had to kill Mrs. French. She wasn't going to wait until she died of natural causes, that could take years, and Mrs. French might change her will again, or tell you about the will. She followed you on her bicycle and waited until you left, then went in and killed Mrs. French. Since she knew you'd walk home slowly, she was able to go to the pond, toss in the murder weapon, and still beat you back home. She was pretty good on her bike. Apparently, she liked to peddle it around town."
"But how did the murder weapon get in her purse?" Rick asked.
Dewey shrugged.
"We'll probably never know. Just one of those mysterious events."
Rick thought for a moment.
He couldn't see how his attorneys could have gotten a search warrant for the apartment; it was also Meredith's home and there was no probable cause. But, if some friends of the accused just happened to drop by, and a Vorlag, who had excellent senses of smell, should just happen to pick up an interesting scent and followed it, who knew where it might lead to. Then there was the problem of getting the cosh into Meredith's purse…Rick stopped. It was just one of those mysterious events that no one would ever unravel.
"Mr. Castle?"
"Yes, Ms. Beckett?"
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm happy that things worked out as they did. Justice was done, after all. I hope there are no hard feelings."
"Not towards you, but the woman I loved tried to frame me for murder and she killed a very nice woman who just wanted to help us."
"Well, if there's anything I can do…"
"There is, actually."
"What?"
"I'm a writer and I've been thinking about maybe writing a novel about a tough, savvy and caring prosecutor. I'd need some help from you, of course."
"What kind of help?"
"I'd need to pick your brain for legal strategies, laws, everything. I even have the name of the main character picked out. She'll be called Peri Mason."
"Mr. Castle…"
"Please call me Rick."
"That's an awful name. It's boring. You need a name for your main character that'll excite people. Maybe…" Kate thought for a minute. "Nikki Heat. Now there's a good name."
"Yeah, for a stripper."
"Well, you can write about Peri Mason without my help, of you can write about Nikki Heat…"
"…With your help." Rick finished for her. "You win, Ms. Beckett."
"I always do and call me Kate."
The End
Author's note: When I was in London over the summer I saw the play, Witness for the Prosecution. A great play, but it really needed some Vorlags.
Next up, depending how fast I can write, will either be Beyond the Frontier. Mercenary colonel Rick Castle and his lovely wife Kate, venture beyond the frontier of human space. Or, I'll be posting my annual Christmas story, Merry Christmas, Castle Kids. Rick and Kate have a family emergency and need babysitters for their three youngest kids. No one is available except for some furry troublemakers.
I have had a story idea rattling around in my head, but I don't know if I really want to write it, as it's very grim. Sniper Mike Bennett, whom we first met in my story Vengeance, is a cold-blooded killer. While on boring guard duty he tells a young Tarkai soldier about how he once took part in the massacre of civilians. Not a pleasant story.