Out of Order Murder Mystery by Bert Paul

Author:Bert Paul
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Untreed Reads Publishing
Published: 2012-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8. Miss Ann testifies

“Your honor! Your honor! Stop the presses! I must testify at once!” said Miss Ann as she rushed into the courtroom, breathless.

“Young lady,” said the judge, “there are no presses in here to stop. What do you mean by disrupting court proceedings? I may find you in contempt!”

Miss Ann looked around, wondering who the judge was talking to. At seventy-something, she was unaccustomed to being addressed as “young lady.” But since the judge was over 90, a seventy-something Miss Ann was a young lady to him.

“You, there,” said the judge, pointing at Miss Ann. “Answer me!”

“Well, it’s like this. I’m supposed to give evidence in Chapter 10, but I’ve got nonrefundable plane tickets to Chicago on a flight that leaves at the end of this chapter and I may not be back before the end of the story.” Miss Ann caught her breath, patted her hair, and straightened her skirt.

“What prevents you from being back before the end of the story?” asked the judge.

“Well, to get the super-saver rate, I have to stay in Chicago for at least seven chapters, and I don’t know if this story has that many more chapters. As it is, I won’t get back until the end of Chapter 15 or beginning of Chapter 16. If the story runs that long. Otherwise, I won’t get back until an entirely different story, and my evidence won’t make sense then.”

The judge sighed. “Will your evidence make any sense now?”

Miss Ann drew herself up indignantly and fixed him with her stern Miss Ann Look. “Certainly. In the correct context.”

“Very well,” said the judge. He turned to the attorneys for the defense and prosecution. “Which one of you has this lady down as a witness?”

“Well, your honor,” said both attorneys at once, “neither of us has her on our list. We don’t even know who she is.”

Miss Ann spoke. “I am Miss Ann, and I have evidence to give at this trial, but I have to give it now before my flight leaves.” She marched up to the witness stand and swore herself in. First, however, she had to swear at the lady with the Lord-have-mercy hairdo, who had vacated the witness box just as Miss Ann approached it, and whose barbed-wire hair fastenings snagged Miss Ann’s pantyhose on her way to the chair.

The defense and prosecuting attorneys looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. The defense attorney tossed a coin. “I call heads,” he said. It came up tails.

The assistant district attorney approached the witness box. “Miss Ann, can you tell us, in your own words, what you saw on the day or night in question?”

“And what day or night would that be?” asked Miss Ann.

“The day or night surrounding the murder of Mr. P, juror number 4.”

“Well, I was standing at the corner of Main and Franklin Streets, looking for my black-and-red suitcase, which was packed full of lima beans. It had mysteriously disappeared as I waited for the light to change.

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