“That’s it,” he said, happy for some help. “Ah remember cuz you remember things when somethin’ like that happen. Like when President Kennedy got himself killed, I remember I was with my mama ….”
‘Tell me, Mr. Townsend, how did Mr. Cheetam come to discover this injury that you suffered? Did you come to him and tell him about it, or did he come to you and ask about it?”
“Well, it weren’t him.” Townsend was now pointing, his arm out straight like an arrow, at Cheetam. “No sir, Mr. Chitan, he didn’t come to me.”
Cheetam was reclining in his chair, nibbling on the eraser end of a pencil, smiling glibly at the dead end Nelson had just raced up.
“It were the other fellah, that one back there.” Like a weathervane in a shifting wind, Townsend’s arm had swung out toward the audience, taking a bead on Ron Brown, who tried to huddle behind a heavy-set woman seated in the row in front of him. “The one with the fancy pen,” said Townsend.
Nelson’s eyes followed the pointing finger like a guided missile. Brown was caught in the act, spear-chucker in hand, gold nib to the yellow pad propped on his lap.
“Your Honor, may we ask Mr. Brown, Mr. Cheetam’s associate, to stand for a moment.”
O’Shaunasy did not have to speak. Brown was up, shifting his feet, his shoulders sagging, his features lost in shadows as his head hung low, away from the beams of the overhead canister lights.
“That’s him.”
“Mr. Brown approached you?”
“Yes sir. He the one that talked to me He talk to all of us.”
“Objection, Your Honor, hearsay.”
“Were you present when Mr. Brown talked to the others, did you hear what he said to them?”
“I object, Your Honor.”
“Let’s hear what the witness has to say.” O’Shaunasy waits to see if Townsend will overcome the inference of secondhand information.
“Oh sure, he talk to all of us at once. The building manager get us together. He say one of the lawyers in the building want to talk to us.” Townsend was all smiles now, trying to be as helpful as possible.
“Overruled.”
Cheetam was fuming, angry not so much with the court and its ruling as with Brown and his lack of finesse in dealing with the hired help.
“What did he say when he talked to all of you?”
“He ask us if any of us see anything the day Mr. Porter was shot.”
“Did any of you see anything?”
“No, except for Willie He seed a lot.”
“Willie?”
“Yeah, he seed Mr. Porter after the shot.”
“Ah.” Nelson nods. “Willie’s the janitor who discovered the body?”
“Uh-huh.”
Nelson was becoming more charitable, his manner more easy, now that he was making headway with the witness.
“What else did Mr. Brown ask you?”
“He asked us if anybody ever got hurt, cut or like that, who used the service elevator.”
“He asked this question of all of you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you said yes?”
“Yeah, me and Bill and Rosie and Manual.”
“There were four of you?” Nelson’s question rose an octave from beginning to end.
Cheetam’s pencil lay on the table, the eraser end chewed off.
“Uh-huh.”
“Then what happened?”
“He took us up to his office.”
“You and Bill and Rosie and Manual?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then what happened?”
“They had a lady there, a nurse, she took our blood.”
“She took your blood?”
“Uh-huh. With a big needle. And they say they would get back to us.”
“And did they?”
“Just me,” said Townsend. “That gentleman”-he nodded toward Brown-“he get back to me.”
Cheetam and Brown must have thought they’d hit the mother lode when Townsend’s blood type came back.
“Did Mr. Brown say why he only wanted to talk to you?”
“No sir.”
“And what did he say when he finally got back to you?”
“He ask me when I hurt myself and how I done it.”
“And did you tell him?”
“Uh-huh. Just like I tell you today.”
“You mean to say that you cut your hand the day that Benjamin Potter was killed?”
“Yes sir.”
“I remind you, Mr. Townsend, you are under oath. To tell a he now is to commit perjury. That is a serious crime.”
Townsend did a lot of swallowing here. His Adam’s apple made the trip up and down his throat several times.
“I don’t lie,” he said
“Are you certain you did not injure your hand on another day, perhaps after Mr. Potter was killed, or long before the murder?”
Nelson, unable to shake the man, was offering him one last honorable way out of a lie.
“No, it were that day, or the day before, but I think it were that day. I’m sure of it.”
So much of his testimony had been compromising to Brown and Cheetam, that it was difficult to believe that he would lie on this point. Townsend’s words had the soulful ring of truth, and Nelson backed away. I wondered whether with all of his foibles Cheetam, and Talia by his proxy, would now-after all of this- finally profit from some happy coincidence. I would not wonder for long.
“Thank you, nothing more of this witness.”
Cheetam beamed like the Cheshire cat.
O’Shaunasy looked at him. “Redirect?”
“Nothing, Your Honor.”
“Very well, your next witness.”
“The defense rests, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Nelson, do you have any rebuttal witnesses?”
“Just one, Your Honor. The state would like to recall Dr. George Cooper.”
“Any objection?”
Cheetam looked mystified but at a loss to raise any grounds for objection.
He smiled. “None, Your Honor.”
Coop was called from the hall outside, where witnesses were assembled or held for further testimony. He took the stand and was reminded that he was still under oath.
“Dr. Cooper, you took blood samples from the body of the victim, Benjamin Potter, following death, did you not?”
“I did.”
“And the single drop of blood that was found in the service elevator-did you gather and process this evidence from the scene?”
“I did.”
“And finally, were you able to obtain a blood sample from one Reginald Townsend, a janitor in the building, a witness for the defense?”
“I did so, yes.”
“Doctor, can you briefly describe for the court that system of blood-type classification commonly known as A-B-O and explain in layman’s terms how it works?”
“As you know, there’s two types of blood cells, red cells and white cells. The A-B-O system keys on red cells only. It identifies chemical structures present on the surface of these cells called antigens. Under the A-B-O system, a type A blood donor would have A antigens on the surface of his red cells, a type B, B antigens, a type AB would have both A and B antigens and a type O would have neither. In addition, there is one other common factor in this blood-typing system. It’s the so-called D antigen or Rh factor of the blood. Those with the D antigen are said to be Rh-positive; those without it are Rh-negative.”
“So if both Mr. Potter and Mr. Townsend were classified as type B-negative blood donors, all that means is that they each had only type B antigens on the surface of their red blood cells, and that neither had the so-called D antigen present, so they were negative as to the Rh factor?”
“That’s correct.”
It was a polished routine, like Abbott and Costello. Townsend was disclosed as a witness for the defense before the trial, as required in discovery. It was clear Coop and Nelson had been over this ground in preparation. There was no wasted effort.
“Now this A-B-O system, is it the only method for typing and classifying blood?”
“No. It’s the most common system of classification used by hospitals for purposes of transfusions and other medical procedures. But in answer to your question, there are more than a hundred other different blood factors that have been shown to exist. In theory at least, no two individuals, except for identical twins, can be expected to have the same combination of all blood factors.”