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Eddie

Castro didn’t want to take the chance of any further damage with his witnesses.

He still looked confident. He had an ace up his sleeve.

His anonymous witness.

‘Your Honor, the People would like to call Witness Eight.’

I stood up, said, ‘Your Honor, there is no property in a witness. Any party to this case can speak to any witness at any time. There is no longer a requirement for this witness to have anonymity. The witness is willing to waive that right.’

Castro was about to object, but the doors of the court opened, and Ruby Johnson walked in, flanked by Detective Artie Chase.

‘Is this correct, Mr. Castro?’ asked the judge.

Before he could answer, Ruby said, ‘I want to tell the truth. I want to go on the record.’

Confused, Castro conferred with his ADAs. They were just as surprised as he was.

‘In that case,’ he said, with some trepidation, ‘the People call Ruby Johnson.’

I watched her take the oath, sit down. She had her arm in a sling, and the bags under her eyes spoke of a restless night.

‘Ms. Johnson, would you state your occupation for the record?’

‘I am a nanny, maid and housekeeper to families in West 74 th Street.’

‘And where were you on the night Margaret Blakemore was murdered?’

Ruby looked at Detective Chase. He nodded.

‘I was passing Margaret’s house on my way home when I saw Margaret through the window of her living room, and I watched Brett Bale shoot her three times . . .’

Castro began to interrupt, but the judge stopped him.

‘You asked the question, Mr. Castro. You deal with the answer,’ said the judge.

‘Permission to treat this witness as hostile?’

‘Proceed,’ said the judge.

‘Ms. Johnson, you told me, and the police, you saw John Jackson murder Margaret Blakemore.’

‘I did. I was lying.’

‘So you’re a liar. You admit that in front of this jury,’ said Castro, desperately trying to prevent his case from imploding.

‘I haven’t lied to this jury,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m here to tell the truth. I lied to you , Mr. Castro.’

He stood silently for a moment. Thinking about what to do next. His best point had been made, that Ruby had lied to him. Any other questions could just make things worse. He sat down, and I stood to cross-examine.

‘You used to live on this street, some years ago, is that right?’

‘Yes, with my mother and father.’

‘So you knew it well, and you knew the neighbors?’

‘Yes.’

‘After you saw Brett Bale shoot and kill the victim, what happened?’

‘I followed Bale, saw him dump the murder weapon in a garbage bag and go back to the party at Petra’s house. I took the gun.’

‘This gun has been tested for DNA, which we have been discussing in this case. How did you get my client’s son’s DNA on that weapon?’

‘I work for the Jacksons as their nanny,’ said Ruby, and as she spoke she looked straight ahead, avoiding John Jackson’s gaze. ‘I drugged Tomas – I gave him a glass of orange juice full of liquid painkillers and sleeping aids, and when he was asleep I pressed the butt of the gun into his hand. Parents share their DNA with their children. I knew it would be enough to implicate John Jackson, as long as the police came looking for him.’

‘So you made the anonymous call, implicating the defendant?’

‘Yes, I made that call.’

‘Why?’

‘My mother was ill and I needed money. That was part of it. I knew I could blackmail Brett Bale and Todd Ellis. They were both suspects initially. Everyone knew they were involved with Maggs, sorry, the victim. If Ellis’s wife found out he was back with Maggs, she would divorce him and take half of his fortune. Brett Bale knew that I had seen him kill Margaret. I got money from them both, and I spent it. But that’s only part of the reason I did this. It’s not the main reason . . .’

‘Before we get to that, do you know why Brett Bale killed Margaret Blakemore?’

‘Because she knew.’

‘She knew what?’

‘She knew Bale had killed his wife so he could be with Margaret. He’d told her as much. Then she found out he was still seeing other girls and she threatened to reveal his secrets.’