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On the third straight day of the Parker Phillips murderer trial, Judy Blume’s eyeglasses fogged over as entered the warm building of the courthouse. It had been a harsh winter with temperatures hovering just above zero for the past six weeks, and the windchill didn’t help matters.
She never thought she’d be selected for jury duty, much less a high-profile murder. The defendant, Cotton Franks was accused of murdering socialite, Parker Phillips. The trial began a year to the date of his murder.
As a crime writer, she figured Phillip’s attorney would have used one of his peremptory challenges to remove her. After all, she’d always heard the defense didn’t like cops, lawyers, or someone who doesn’t seem sympathetic toward crimes their client may have committed.
Her family and friends told her she’d been selected because of her calming demeanor and keen eye for the details. She halfhearted believed this because as a writer she always searched for truth, not book sales.
By the time she entered the jury box and court started, her body quit shivering. The winters over the past several years seemed to get worse, but maybe she was exaggerating.
Most of her days were spent indoors, behind a computer writing her latest story or conducting research. On the rare occasion she took a break, she enjoyed watching classic television mystery shows like Perry Mason, Matlock, and her favorite—Murder She Wrote.
After the judge entered, took his seat behind the bench, the prosecutor, Dan Fouts, called his star witness. Well, the only witness wo claimed to see the murder take place.
Slade Phillips, the victim’s only son and sole heir to the family fortune took the stand. After the bailiff swore him in, Fouts asked, “Mr. Phillips, what did you witness on the night of October 31st of last year?”
“I drove to father’s house to ask about a loan for a new venture I was heading up.”
“What time did you arrive?”
“Shortly after 7 pm.”
“And what did you notice?”
Slade adjusted his glasses. Then he turned toward the jury. “I saw a man standing over my father with a bloody knife in his hand.”
“Was your father dead?”
“Objection,” the defense lawyer, Todd James said. “Calls for speculation.”
The judge nodded. “Sustained.”
Fouts asked, “Where did you see your father, Parker Phillips?”
“On the living room floor.”
“Did you see blood?”
“Yes. Lots of it.”
“Do you see the person who was holding the knife in the courtroom today?”
Slade pointed toward the defendant.
Fouts stood, “Let the record show the witness identified Cotton Franks.”
The judge informed the court stenographer.
Fouts sat in his seat. “We have no further questions of the witness.”
“The judge nodded and asked, “Does defense wish to cross-examine the witness?”
“We do your Honor.” Todd James stood. “What was the weather like on the day you arrived at your daddy’s house?”
“Cold.”
“How cold?”
“I’m not a weatherman, but it was probably like today.”
“Very well. And when you entered the house, did you see my client right away?”
“I did.”
“What color clothes was he wearing?”
“I don’t recall.”
“So, you don’t have any idea, what he wore he supposedly stabbed your daddy to death?”
“Asked and answered,” Fouts said.”
“Sustained, the judge said. “Move along.”
James nodded. “What were you going to see your father for?”
Slade adjusted his spectacles. “I was starting a new Venture.”
“Venture and in a business?”
“Yes.”
“And you needed money for a down payment?”
“Yes?”
“How much?”
“Three hundred thousand?”
“How many times has your daddy given you money for various ventures over the years?”
“A dozen.”
“How many of these are still in business?”
Slade lowered his head. “None.”
James opened a manilla folder and removed a sheet of paper. “Did you know your daddy removed you from his will?”
Fouts stood. “Your, Honor, what does this line of questioning have to do with the testimony?”
“Goes to motive,” James said before the judge could respond.
Fouts countered, “Slade Phillips is not on trial for murder.”
The judge nodded. “I agree. You’re mucking up my trial with a red herring and I won’t allow it. Now either move on or cut the witness loose.”
But Judy realized there was no red herring. She knew Slade Phillips lied and she could prove it.
How did Judy know Slade Phillips lied on the stand?
When Judy entered the courthouse the weather outside was very cold and the temperature inside was warm causing her glasses to fog over.
Slade Phillips said the weather was very cold on the day his father was murdered. Slade claimed he saw Phillip Parker standing over his father’s dead body immediately after entering the house. But like Judy, his glasses would have fogged over as well.