“Oh? You weren’t near enough to see her clothes.” Tom looked at the jury as he said this. “Well, how far away were you?”
“I reckon we was a good sixty yards away at least.”
“Sixty yards.” Tom looked at the jury again. “That’s quite a distance to identify a small boat in the dark. Tell me, Mr. Miller, what characteristics, what features of this person in this boat made you so sure it was Miss Clark?”
“Well, like I said, ’bout everybody in this town knows her boat, how it looks from close and far. We know the shape of the boat and the figure she cuts sittin’ in the stern, tall, thin like that. A very particular shape.”
“A particular shape. So anybody with this same shape, any person who was tall and thin in this type of boat would have looked like Miss Clark. Correct?”
“I guess somebody else coulda looked like her, but we get to know boats and their owners real good, you know, being out there all the time.”
“But, Mr. Miller, may I remind you, this is a murder trial. It cannot get more serious than this, and in these cases we have to be certain. We can’t go by shapes or forms that are seen from sixty yards away in the dark. So, please can you tell the court you are certain the person you saw on the night of October 29 to October 30, 1969, was Miss Clark?”
“Well, no, I can’t be completely sure. Never said I could be completely sure it was her. But I’m pretty—”
“That will be all, Mr. Miller. Thank you.”
Judge Sims asked, “Redirect, Eric?”
From his seat, Eric asked, “Hal, you testified that you’ve been seeing and recognizing Miss Clark in her boat for at least three years. Tell me, have you ever thought you saw Miss Clark in her boat from a distance and then once you got closer, you discovered that it wasn’t Miss Clark after all? Has that ever happened?”
“No, not once.”
“Not once in three years?”
“Not once in three years.”
“Your Honor, the State rests.”
52.
Three Mountains Motel
1970
Judge Sims entered the courtroom and nodded at the defense table. “Mr. Milton, are you ready to call your first witness for the defense?”
“I am, Your Honor.”
“Proceed.”
After the witness was sworn and seated, Tom said, “Please state your name and what you do in Barkley Cove.” Kya raised her head enough to see the short, elderly woman with the purplish-white hair and tight perm who years ago asked her why she always came alone to the grocery. Perhaps she was shorter and her curls tighter, but she looked remarkably the same. Mrs. Singletary had seemed nosey and bossy, but she had given Kya the net Christmas stocking with the blue whistle inside the winter after Ma left. It was all the Christmas Kya had.
“I’m Sarah Singletary, and I clerk at the Piggly Wiggly market in Barkley Cove.”
“Sarah, is it correct that from your cash register within the Piggly Wiggly, you can see the Trailways bus stop?”
“Yes, I can see it clearly.”
“On October 28 of last year, did you see the defendant, Miss Catherine Clark, waiting at the bus stop at 2:30 P.M.?”
“Yes, I saw Miss Clark standing there.” At this, Sarah glanced at Kya and remembered the little girl coming barefoot into the market for so many years. No one would ever know, but before Kya could count, Sarah had given the child extra change—money she had to take from her own purse to balance the register. Of course, Kya was dealing with small sums to start with, so Sarah contributed only nickels and dimes, but it must have helped.
“How long did she wait? And did you actually see her step onto the 2:30 P.M. bus?”
“She waited about ten minutes, I think. We all saw her buy her ticket from the driver, give him her suitcase, and step onto the bus. It drove away, and she was most definitely inside.”
“And I believe you also saw her return two days later on October 30 on the 1:16 P.M. bus. Is that correct?”
“Yes, two days later, a little after 1:15 in the afternoon, I looked up as the bus stopped, and there was Miss Clark stepping off it. I pointed her out to the other checkout ladies.”
“Then what did she do?”
“She walked to the wharf, got in her boat, and headed south.”