“Excuse me, sir, I said no such thing,” Gracie shot back.

“The court stenographer will please read the testimony given by Miss Johnson a few moments before the courtroom interruption.”

“Got it right here, Carter,” the stenographer said.

Wonderful. Ames and the court stenographer were on a first-name basis. No telling which parts of Gracie’s testimony had been left out or “improved.”

The stenographer flipped back the pages in his tablet and began to read in a droning voice.

“Miz Davenport was always a mean old lady. Never had a nice word for anybody. Ask me, she had it coming to her. The day before she got killed, she told me she was fixing to fire me because I was too stupid to know which side of the plate do the fish fork go on. She was a mean old witch, she was. I’m telling you, she had it coming.”

I jumped up from my chair.

“Your Honor, obviously my client did not mean-”

“Sit down, Mr. Corbett.”

I had one more thing to say-I just had to get it out.

“Your Honor, the prosecutor is deliberately twisting my client’s words!”

Carter Ames turned to me with a smile. “Why, Mr. Corbett, I’m not twisting a thing. Your client has spoken for herself very clearly. I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

“In that case, court will adjourn for a two-hour recess, so we can get ourselves a cold glass of tea and some dinner,” the judge said. “I believe that Mrs. Warren said my personal favorite, chicken pot pie, is on the menu today.”

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Chapter 3

THE TWO-HOUR DINNER BREAK before Carter Ames and I gave our closing arguments seemed to last at least twice that long. I never had much appetite during a case, so I spent the interval pacing the block around the courthouse square, mopping my face and neck with a handkerchief.