“Do passengers often go swimming off the boat?”
“Only when it’s anchored in tropical waters and Mr. Belasco is having a party.”
“So she changed her mind about swimming. What then?”
“We went to the galley, and I made some scrambled eggs and toast, and we drank some of the coffee Harry had left on the stove. We didn’t talk much. There wasn’t anything to say. The whole thing began to seem like a crazy idea, me and her, the French cuisine, everything.”
“I’ll emphasize once again how important it is for you to tell me the truth,” Donnelly said. “If I don’t know what really happened, I’m sunk and you go down with me.”
“Why?”
“Let’s look at the truth like a destination. If I don’t know where this destination is, I can’t prevent the prosecutor from getting there. In other words, I have to head him off at the pass.”
“I’m telling the truth. I always do. The trouble is people don’t believe me because of the color of my skin.”
“Cut out that crap, will you?”
“It’s not crap. You watch that district attorney; see the way he looks at me like I was scum.”
“He looks at everybody like that. Including me.” Donnelly said, then added thoughtfully, “Maybe especially me. After the scrambled eggs and toast, what did you do?”
“Relieved Harry so he could get some sleep. I saw the lady only a couple of times that day. Once she was talking to Richie, and later she was standing at the rail, watching a school of porpoises. That night we had a few drinks in my cabin, and both of us began to feel a lot better. In fact, she started to come on strong to me, and one of her earrings scratched my face. She was wearing diamond studs that screwed into her earlobes.”
“Another unfortunate choice of language. No studs, no screw. Just tell the jurors she was wearing earrings.”
“Anyway, the scratch hurt. I felt there was something deliberate about it like — well, like she wanted to play rough. I don’t like women who play rough, so I pushed her away.”
“How?”
“Maybe I grabbed her throat.”
“No maybe about it. You grabbed her throat. You’ll see pictures of it tomorrow or the next day.”
“I had to protect myself.”
“You’re going to have a hell of a time convincing a jury that a man of your size and strength had to protect himself against a woman just slightly over five feet who weighed one hundred and ten pounds... What happened then?”
“She took off the earrings and told me to keep them.”
“Repeat what she said.”
“I just told you. She said, ‘Keep them.’ ”
“Her exact words are important. Just ‘Keep them’?”
“Yes.”
“What was she wearing?”
“Why do you harp on what she was wearing?”
“Harping is my specialty. What was she wearing?”
“Nothing.”
“This woman stood there naked, removed the earrings and there was no conversation while she was doing this except ‘Keep them’?”
“She wasn’t much of a talker. Also, it wasn’t much of a talk situation. She might have said something about being sorry she caused the scratch on my face.”
“What did she call you? Mr. King, Cully, Skipper, Captain?”
“I don’t think she called me anything.”
“No endearments?”
“No.”
“All right, she’s standing there naked, taking off her diamond earrings. The jurors might find it difficult to picture this scene. For one thing, a woman usually removes her jewelry before she starts undressing.”
“It happened like I said. I can’t help it if they believe it or not.”
“Did she take off one earring and hand it to you, then take off the other and hand it to you and so on? Or did she remove both before giving them to you?”
“What did I say the last time you asked me that?”
“I want to hear what you say this time.”
Cully shook his head. “It happened last spring. That’s a long time ago. You can’t expect me to remember every little detail.”
“Yes, I can. I do. So will a great many other people.”
Cully’s eyes were fixed on the door with a kind of desperate intensity as if he were willing it to open and let him out. “I can’t remember.”
“Maybe we should take all your answers and average them out and arrive at the truth that way, though it’s a little unscientific. You don’t recall the order in which she took off the earrings, but you recall her saying, ‘keep them.’ ”
“Yes.”
“What do you think she meant by that word ‘keep’?”
“Keep is keep. She meant they were mine; she was giving them to me.”
“It never occurred to you that she was merely asking you to keep them for her in a safe place?”
“No. Women have given me presents before. They like me.”
“How many have liked you thousands of dollars’ worth?”
“None until her.”
“You still think she intended you to keep the jewelry for yourself?”
“Yes.”
“And you acted on that assumption.”
“Yes.”
“By doing what?”
“First I put them in a drawer beside the bed. Then the next morning I went ashore and found a pawnshop.”
“So women give you presents,” Donnelly said. “Why?”
“I told you, they like me, they think I’m a good guy. Ask anyone in the islands whether I’m a good guy.”
“The islands are several thousand miles away, and the only people whose opinion counts are sitting in the jury box and on the bench. They’re the ones you’ve got to convince what a good guy you are.”
Cully took a comb from his shirt pocket and ran it through his hair with quick, compulsive strokes.
“Why are you combing your hair?” Donnelly said. “You’re not going any place.”
“I do that when I’m nervous.”
“Well, don’t. I don’t like it; the jury won’t like it. And why should a good guy like you be nervous anyway?”
“I got the wrong color skin.”
“You’ve got an overactive pecker, that’s what you’ve got. And that’s what might do you in.”
Cully struck the table with his fist, then took four strides to the door and rapped on the window. A few seconds later the guard appeared and unlocked the door. He looked tired and bored.
Nobody said anything.
Driving home, Donnelly began to weigh once more the pros and cons of putting Cully King on the stand. It might be a necessary move since the average person believed that an innocent man would insist on taking the stand in his own defense. If everything went well — that is, if Cully was able to avoid losing his temper and taking offense at some of the district attorney’s accusations and implications — he might make a good witness. In appearance and speech he was quite presentable. On the other hand, his behavior was unpredictable. He would probably do well under direct examination if he could keep from contradicting himself. But on cross-examination he might freeze up. Donnelly had seen many blacks and members of other minority groups, guilty and innocent, withdraw behind a wall of silence like children confronted with the disapproval of an authority figure.
It was hard to imagine Cully freezing up. He was more likely to become talkative. If he were lying, he would pile lie on lie like bricks until the whole thing toppled over on his head. Once Cully had been sworn in as a witness, Donnelly could do nothing to stop the proceedings, no matter how badly they were going for him. This was what bugged Donnelly the most: the thought of having no control over events or over Cully.