“Mr. Hessey, just answer the question,” Judge Samuels instructed.

“Mr. Hessey, did Esther wear glasses?”

“Not all the time. She used to wear them when she was in class and at a movie. Times like that. Sometimes she’d keep them on after.”

“Is it fair to say that Lookout Park was used as a ‘make out’ spot in 1960 by large numbers of teenagers?”

Hessey smiled.

“Yes, sir,” he said a bit too enthusiastically and several of the spectators laughed.

“Did you ever use Lookout Park to ‘make out’?”

“Yes, sir,” Hessey answered with even more enthusiasm. Philip Heider and Judge Samuels joined in the laughter this time.

“Did you use Lookout Park to ‘make out’ approximately one week before the murders of Richie Walters and Elaine Murray?”

Heider’s face clouded over and the laughter in the courtroom died down.

“What’s he getting at?” Heider whispered to Caproni. Caproni shook his head and concentrated on the questions.

“Yes, sir. About one week before.”

“How do you remember that?”

“Well, I remember when they found Richie Walters up there joking about how it could have been me, because I had been right up by the hill just the week before.”

“And you are sure of that?”

“Yes.”

“Where had you been prior to making out in the park, one week before the murders?”

“To the movies.”

“With whom?”

“With Esther.”

“When you drove to Lookout Park was Esther wearing her glasses?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

Hessey looked suddenly serious and embarrassed.

“Well, uh, I tried to take them off when we parked, but she wouldn’t let…she, uh, said ‘no dice.’”

“To taking off the glasses?”

“She, uh, didn’t, uh, want to make out.”

“Why was that?”

“Well, I was, uh, dating another girl I’d started seeing.” He shrugged. “I guess she was jealous.”

“When she said that she wouldn’t make out, did you get angry?”

Hessey hung his head.

“I guess so.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, she started in on me about this girl. I can’t even remember her name now. And I yelled back and she ran out of the car.”

“Did you chase her?”

Hessey nodded.

“You’ll have to speak up, Mr. Hessey.”

“Yes.”

“Where were you parked when she ran out of the car?”

“The meadow.”

“The meadow? Is that the same meadow where Richie Walters’s body was found?”

“Yeah. All the kids used that meadow to make out. In the summer it was usually packed.”

“What did you do when you caught Esther?”

Hessey mumbled something.

“You will have to speak up, Mr. Hessey. What did you do?”

“I slapped her.”

“And what happened to her glasses?”

“They went flying off.”

There was a gasp in the courtroom. Several of the jurors were writing furiously. Heider and Caproni were engaged in a rapid-fire consultation.

“No further questions,” Shaeffer said. He could feel a pulse pounding in his ears and his hands were shaking.

“Mr. Heider,” Judge Samuels said, secretly amused at Heider’s discomfort.

“One moment, if you please, Your Honor.”

Shaeffer turned to see how Bobby had reacted to his bombshell. For the first time in the trial, Coolidge was leaning forward, attentive. Mark turned toward Sarah, but she would not meet his eyes. Heider and Caproni ended their conversation.

“Mr. Hessey, were you in the habit of slapping women in your younger days?”

“Like I said, I did a lot of things then that I am not proud of now.”

“Had you ever slapped Esther before?”

“Yes.”

“Ever knock her glasses off before?”

Hessey paused.

“Once I think.”

“What did she do when you did that?”

Hessey looked as if he wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Cried, I guess.”

“No, Mr. Hessey, I mean with the glasses. What did she do with the glasses?”

Hessey paused.

“Picked them up, I guess.”

“And what did she do when you slapped off her glasses in Lookout Park?”

Hessey stared at Heider open mouthed, then he shook his head from side to side.

“I can’t remember.”

“Did you drive her home from the park?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I did.”

“Is it likely that she would have forgotten her glasses?”

“No,” Hessey said thoughtfully.

“Do you remember now whether she picked up her glasses?”

“I don’t.”

“But you will not swear that she did not?”

“No. I’m not sure.”

“Did she drop her purse when you slapped her, Mr. Hessey?”

“No…No, I’m pretty sure she didn’t.”

“Did she drop a cigarette lighter on the evening you slapped her?”

“No, just the glasses.”

“Or a blue rat-tail comb?”

“No.”

Heider smiled at the witness.

“No further questions.”

Judge Samuels looked at Mark to see if he wished to ask any further questions. Mark just shook his head.

“I think that this would be a good time to adjourn,” Judge Samuels said. “We will reconvene at nine-thirty tomorrow morning.”

“He killed us, didn’t he?” Bobby said bitterly as the jury filed out.

“No, I think we scored some real points with Hessey,” Mark said, but he did not believe it. He was crestfallen. He knew that he was not doing a good job, but he had hoped to redeem himself with Hessey. Now he had nothing. Heider had completely neutralized the effect of Hessey’s testimony about the glasses. He had also established that Esther had been in possession of her glasses as late as one week before the murders.

“See you tomorrow, counselor,” Bobby said sarcastically as the guard led him out. Mark watched Heider leave with a trace of bitterness. He began to gather up his papers.

“Mark, I have to talk to you.”

Mark looked up. Albert Caproni was standing behind him. He had spoken so softly that Shaeffer had barely heard him.

“Can I meet you at your office, tonight?”

“Sure,” Mark said. Caproni was looking around, as if he was afraid to be seen talking to Mark.

“What’s the problem?” Mark asked, puzzled.

“I can’t explain here. Promise me you won’t mention our meeting to anyone. Not even your wife.”

Mark started to ask Caproni what was wrong, then changed his mind. Caproni was scared and Mark respected Caproni enough to accept his request.

“I won’t say a word.”

“Eight o’clock,” Caproni said and walked rapidly from the courtroom.

Albert Caproni was waiting in the shadows of the lobby when Mark arrived at his office building. He refused to speak until they were safely locked in Mark’s office. Once the door was closed, he placed his attaché case on the desk in front of him.

“There are some ground rules I want you to agree to before I tell you anything,” Caproni said. Mark noticed the edge in Caproni’s voice and the nervous way his fingers drummed on the desk. “First, you must swear to me that under no circumstances will you ever tell anyone about this meeting. If you did, it might cost me my job.”

“Al, is this something to do with Bobby’s case? Because, if it is, I don’t know if I can ethically promise you anything.”

“Well, you’re going to have to bend your ethics, because what I have to tell you might win this case for you, but I am not going to risk my career and I won’t tell you anything until I get your promise.”

Mark hesitated, then agreed to Caproni’s demand.

“Okay. Now, some of what I am going to tell you could provide grounds for dismissal of the case, but only if I were called as a witness. Do I have your promise that you will never attempt to call me as a witness, no matter what I tell you?”

“You know something that could lead to a dismissal of the charges and you want me to promise you that I won’t call you?” Mark asked, aghast.

“Yes. Other information I give you may clear your client, so what I know may not be necessary. But you will get nothing from me.”