Page 72 of Courtroom Drama
“We are great friends. Margot is a very loyal person.”
“And as friends, has Margot ever confided in you about troubles in her marriage?”
“Yes. We talked a lot about our husbands, as friends do. But all normal stuff.”
I picture Alizay’s husband, a burly, red-faced man who buys and flips houses on a Netflix reality show of his own,Melrose Mansions.
“Were you with Margot the morning of Joe’s passing?”
“Yes. She came to my home at about eight fifteen a.m. We were having our hair and makeup done together ahead of a Sea Save luncheon. I suggested she come over for mimosas and glam after dropping the kids at school, that we’d make a morning of it.”
“And how far away do you live from the Kitsch residence?”
“It’s a few miles, roughly ten minutes between.”
“So, twenty minutes just to drive back and forth, if not more? And Margot was at your home the entire time with you and your glam team, as you call them, from approximately eight fifteen until the police called a little before eleven a.m.?”
Alizay nods. At his prompting, she verbalizes her affirmation. “Yes, that’s correct.”
The defense’s time with Alizay is short—the shortest we’ve seen with any witness—as she’s clearly here only to verify Margot’s alibi.
Soon enough, it’s the D.A.’s turn. His pen shakes vigorously between two fingers as he approaches the stand. D.A. Stern is efficient, acting as if he might even be bored. “So, you and Margot were getting your hair and makeup done at your home around the time of Joe’s passing.” D.A. Stern smirks to himself. “No wonder Mrs. Kitsch looked so incredibly camera-ready on the news that day.”
Alizay huffs and the microphone picks it up, a static hum echoing into the room. Judge Gillespy, clearly fed up with D.A. Stern, looks ready to climb over the bench and lunge at him. She gives him a scolding, no longer caring to shield us from her fiery warnings to the D.A. I shift in my seat as if she’s yelling atme.
Unfazed, the D.A. continues his questioning. “I understand, according to you, Margot never left that morning, but she did receive aphone call. According to phone records, Margot answered a call from Ms. Pembrooke at eight thirty-two a.m. Were you with her when that call came in?”
“I was.”
“And what was the nature of that call?”
“Well, she did step into the hallway for the discussion, so I only heard bits and pieces, but when she came back in a few minutes later, she said it was something about Saks having put two different-sized shoes into her bag a few days before when she was shopping in L.A. and not having time to go in person to deal with it. She answered right next to me as we were getting ready, then stepped outside as her eyelash glue dried.” I note that Margot’s recount of the discussion is nearly identical to that of Ms. Pembrooke.
“How long was she gone?”
“Like, five minutes.”
D.A. Stern walks back to his table, lifts a sheet of paper, and takes it to the judge. “Let the record show that both Mrs. Kitsch’s and Ms. Pembrooke’s phone records indicate that call was nearly thirteen minutes in length.”
Alizay stares at D.A. Stern, letting her eyes flick only briefly toward Margot at the defense table. “I can’t say for certain. Only that it didn’t seem like that long.”
I take in Alizay’s subdued demeanor on the stand, noting it’s a far cry from her on-screen self. She was once served a restraining order by Tenley Storms for throwing a punch after a disagreement over who got the better room on a Cabo trip. Her defense was that she couldn’t form her hand into a proper fist because of how long her nails were, making throwing the punch impossible. She was released from all charges.
D.A. Stern pauses, looks through a manila folder at his table before continuing. “Tell us, Ms. DuPont, do you have any pets?”
I hear one of the jury members huff, certainly wondering the relevance of such a question, likely hoping we are not going down another tarantula-laden path. While I know the uncommon answer, I, too, wonder the relevance.
“Yes, I have several.”
“Could you list those pets for us, Ms. DuPont?”
Durrant Hammerstead objects, and D.A. Stern assures Judge Gillespy he will establish relevance soon.
I allow Damon to draw the tally mark so I can experience the small thrill of his shoulder pressed into mine, his forearm brushing against my upper stomach.
When Judge Gillespy allows it, D.A. Stern nods at Alizay to continue.
“We have four dogs, two cats, seven chickens, a donkey, and a squirrel monkey.”
