Nobody's Perfect

(At this point, defendant's counsel interrupted to enter into evidence the movie theater's schedule showing that the final performance of Sex Sorority last night had finished at 12:12, just five minutes before the 12:17 given on the arrest report as the time of the defendant's apprehension. Counsel also offered to have defendant recapitulate the story line and incidents of Sex Sorority to demonstrate that he had actually seen the film, but the bench felt that was u

"Well, Your Honor, when I got out from seeing Sex Sorority, I went back around to the alley where I left my car, and I saw these two guys with a car doing something at the back door of one of the stores there, and I shouted at them, like this: 'Hey!' And they looked at me, and jumped in their car and took off. So I went down to where I saw them, and it was the back door of this repair place, and they left two TV sets outside in the alley. So I figured, somebody's go

Judge Blick gazed with something like disappointment at the defendant, and said, "That's your story? That's it?"

"Yes, it is, Your Honor." But he himself didn't look all that happy with it.

Judge Blick sighed. "Very well," he said. "And would you mind explaining to the court why you didn't tell this very interesting story of yours to the police officers when they apprehended you?"

"Well, Your Honor," Dortmunder said, "like I mentioned before, I used to live a life of crime, and I'm a fellow with a record and all, and I could see the way it must of looked to the police officers, so I just didn't see any point in trying to convince them of anything. I thought I ought to just not say anything, and wait till I had a chance to tell my story to the judge."

"To me, in fact."

"Yes, Your Honor."

Judge Blick turned his attention to J. Radcliffe Stonewiler, saying, almost plaintively, "Is that it? That's what you're here for?"

"Essentially, Your Honor." Stonewiler didn't seem at all abashed. "I'm finished with Mr. Dortmunder," he went on, "and if Your Honor pleases, I would like now to cross-examine Officer Fahey."

The bench so ordered, and while the defendant slunk away to his seat – guilty as all hell, just look at him – Officer Fahey retook the stand, and Stonewiler approached him, smiling, saying, "Officer, I realize we're taking up your free time here, and I'll try to be as brief as possible."

Officer Fahey's heavy-jowled red face was impassive as he glowered at Stonewiler. He could clearly be seen thinking to himself, You won't get around me with your shenanigans. You'll not pull the wool over my eyes.

Stonewiler, undaunted, went on: "Officer, may I just ask you to describe the defendant as he was in the instant when you first saw him?"

"He was coming out the door," Officer Fahey said, "with a TV set in each hand."

"Coming out? Directly into your oncoming headlights?"

"He stopped when he saw us."

"And had he already stopped when you first caught sight of him?"

"He froze there. But he was coming out."

"Before you saw him."

"He was facing out," Officer Fahey a

"But he wasn't in motion when you first saw him, Officer, is that right? I just want to have this absolutely clear. Whether he was entering or leaving the store, he had already frozen in place when you first saw him."

"Facing out."

"But frozen."

"Yes, frozen. Facing out."

"Thank you, Officer." Turning to the bench, Stonewiler said, "With Your Honor's permission, I would like to try a small experiment."

Judge Blick frowned on him. "Getting fancy, Counselor?"

"Not at all fancy, Your Honor. Very plain indeed. May I?"

"Proceed, Counselor," Judge Blick said, "but watch your step."

"Thank you, Your Honor."

Stonewiler turned and walked to a side door, which the judge knew led to a small waiting room. Opening that door, Stonewiler gestured to someone inside, and two men appeared, each carrying a television set. They placed these on the floor a few steps into the room, then turned and departed again, leaving the door open behind them. The door, however, was on a spring, and slowly it closed itself, until Stonewiler stopped it with his palm just before it would snick shut. The door remained open half an inch, and Stonewiler returned to the bench to smile impartially upon Officer Fahey and Judge Blick, and to say, "With the court's permission, I would like to ask Officer Fahey's cooperation. Officer?"

Officer Fahey glanced uncertainly at Judge Blick, but the judge was still faintly hoping for something interesting to happen, so all he said was, "It's up to you, Officer. You may assist Counsel if you want."

The officer brooded at Stonewiler, mistrust oozing from every pore. "What am I supposed to do?"

Stonewiler pointed. "Merely pick up those two television sets," he said, "and return them to the other room."

The officer's brow furrowed. "What's the point?"

"Perhaps there is none," Stonewiler acknowledged, with a sudden humble smile. "We won't know till we've tried."

The officer frowned once more at Judge Blick, then at the television sets, and then at the door. He appeared indecisive. Then he looked at the defendant, Dortmunder, slumping hopelessly in his chair, and a sudden confident smile touched his lips. "Fine," he said. "Right."

"Thank you, Officer." Stonewiler stepped back as Officer Fahey rose and crossed the court to the television sets. Picking them up by their handles, and pretending the combined weight didn't bother him, he approached the door. He hesitated, facing the door, his hands full of TV sets. He put one of the sets down, pushed on the door, and it swung open. He picked the set up again, and the door swung closed. Quickly, before it could slam, Officer Fahey turned about and bunked the door with his behind.

"Freeze!" boomed J. Radcliffe Stonewiler, pointing his long manicured finger at Officer Fahey, who obediently froze, a TV set in each hand, his behind stuck out behind him. The door swung open, hesitated, and swung back, lightly spanking Officer Fahey on the bum.

Stonewiler, his pointing finger still calling attention to the frozen Officer Fahey, turned toward Judge Blick. "Your Honor," he cried, in a voice similar to that which Moses heard from the burning bush, "I leave it to the Court. Is that man going out, or coming in?"

Chapter 2

May said, "And the judge believed it?"

Dortmunder shook his head, in slow bewilderment. The whole thing was still too baffling to think about.

May watched him shake his head, and shook her own, frowning, not sure she understood. "The judge didn't believe it," she suggested.

"I don't know what the judge believed," Dortmunder told her. "All I know for sure is, I figure I'm home about six years early."

"What you need is a beer," May decided, and went away to the kitchen to get one.

Dortmunder settled back into his easy chair, kicking off his shoes, relaxing in the scruffy familiarity of his own living room. This was not the address he'd given in court, nor did he live here alone – it was Dortmunder's policy never to tell authority the truth when a lie would do – but it was his home, his castle, his refuge from the buffets and abrasions of the world, and no way had he expected to finish his day in it, shoes off, feet up on the old maroon hassock, watching May carry a can of beer back from the kitchen. "Home sweet home," he said.

"Got a match?" She had a fresh cigarette flopping in the corner of her mouth.

He traded her a book of matches for the beer can, and swigged while she lit. May was a chain-smoker, but she never gave up on a cigarette until the stub was too small to hold, so she could never light the next cigarette from the last, and as a result the Dortmunder-May household was always in a match crisis. Dortmunder was the only burglar in the world who, having finished rifling some company's cash register or safe, would pause to fill his pockets with their promotional match-books.