Nothing Lasts Forever

“I work at the Corniche Travel Agency.”

“Your agency books tours to various countries and makes hotel reservations and handles other accommodations for your clients?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to take a look at the defendant. Have you ever seen her before?”

“Oh, yes. She came into our travel agency two or three years ago.”

“And what did she want?”

“She said she was interested in a trip to London and Paris and, I believe, Venice.”

“Did she ask about package tours?”

“Oh, no. She said she wanted everything first class—plane, hotel. And I believe she was interested in chartering a yacht.”

The courtroom was hushed. Gus Venable walked over to the prosecutor’s table and held up some folders. “The police found these brochures in Dr. Taylor’s apartment. These are travel itineraries to Paris and London and Venice, brochures for expensive hotels and airlines, and one listing the cost of chartering a private yacht.”

There was a loud murmur from the courtroom.

The prosecutor had opened one of the brochures.

“Here are some of the yachts listed for charter,” he read aloud. “The Christina O … twenty-six thousand dollars a week plus ship’s expenses … the Resolute Time, twenty-four thousand five hundred dollars a week … the Lucky Dream, twenty-seven thousand three hundred dollars a week.“ He looked up. ”There’s a check mark after the Lucky Dream. Paige Taylor had already selected the twenty-seven-thousand-three-hundred-a-week yacht. She just hadn’t selected her victim yet.

“We’d like to have these marked Exhibit A.” Venable turned to Alan Penn and smiled. Alan Penn looked at Paige. She was staring down at the table, her face pale. “Your witness.”

Penn rose to his feet, stalling, thinking fast.

“How is the travel business these days, Miss Rogers?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I asked how business was. Is Corniche a large travel agency?”

“It’s quite large, yes.”

“I imagine a lot of people come in to inquire about trips.”

“Oh, yes.”

“Would you say five or six people a day?”

“Oh, no!” Her voice was indignant. “We talk to as many as fifty people a day about travel arrangements.”

“Fifty people a day?” He sounded impressed. “And the day we’re talking about was two or three years ago. If you multiply fifty by nine hundred days, that’s roughly forty-five thousand people.”

“I suppose so.”

“And yet, out of all those people, you remembered Dr. Taylor. Why is that?”

“Well, she and her two friends were so excited about taking a trip to Europe. I thought it was lovely. They were like schoolgirls. Oh, yes. I remember them very clearly, particularly because they didn’t look like they could afford a yacht.”

“I see. I suppose everyone who comes in and asks for a brochure goes away on a trip?”

“Well, of course not. But—”

“Dr. Taylor didn’t actually book a trip, did she?”

“Well, no. Not with us. She—”

“Nor with anyone else. She merely asked to see some brochures.”

“Yes. She—”

“That’s not the same as going to Paris or London, is it?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Thank you. You may step down.”

Venable turned to Judge Young. “I would like to call Dr. Benjamin Wallace to the stand …”

“Dr. Wallace, you’re in charge of administration at Embarcadero County Hospital?”

“Yes.”

“So, of course, you’re familiar with Dr. Taylor and her work?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Were you surprised to learn that Dr. Taylor was indicted for murder?”

Penn was on his feet. “Objection, your honor. Dr. Wallace’s answer would be irrelevant.”

“If I may explain,” interrupted Venable. “It could be very relevant if you’ll just let me …”

“Well, let’s see what develops,” said Judge Young. “But no nonsense, Mr. Venable.”

“Let me approach the question differently,” continued Venable. “Dr. Wallace, every physician is required to take the Hippocratic Oath, is that not so?”

“Yes.”

“And part of that oath is”—the prosecutor read from a paper in his hand—“ ‘that I shall abstain from every act of mischief or corruption’?”

“Yes.”

“Was there anything Dr. Taylor did in the past that made you believe she was capable of breaking her Hippocratic Oath?”