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hundred percent identify that body as Lily Herman’s?”
    “One hundred percent,” Durden said angrily. “One hundred percent.”
    “And how do you know she was dead?” Kinsela asked mildly.
    “Her head was hanging back. She was limp.”
    “Could she have been asleep? Did you feel her pulse?”
    “What?”
    Yuki said from her seat, “Your Honor, counsel is badgering the witness.”
    Judge Nussbaum said, “Overruled. Mr. Kinsela, pick one question and ask it again.”

Chapter 14
    YUKI FELT TREMORS as the ground shifted beneath the witness box. Graham Durden darted a look in her direction, and she could see from the tight set of his lips that he was angry.
    Durden didn’t like to have his integrity questioned. And Kinsela was working him over with the finesse of a fishmonger wielding a boning knife. Yuki had rehearsed with Durden, warned him that Kinsela would try to impeach his testimony. Durden had assured her that he felt confident and steady, saying repeatedly, “I know what I saw.”
    Kinsela said, “Okay, Your Honor. I apologize for running on like that. Mr. Durden, how did you know that the child was dead?”
    “She looked dead.”
    “She
looked
dead. And how far were you from the man who put the child into a dark sedan?”
    “I saw them from my front steps. Fifty yards.”
    “Fifty yards.” Kinsela paused to let the jury think about fifty yards. A hundred and fifty feet. Kind of far away. Then he said, “And did you have an unobstructed view, Mr. Durden?”
    “Yes.”
    Kinsela walked to an easel, yanked down a piece of paper, and revealed an aerial photograph of Lopez Avenue between Sotelo and Castenada. The easel was positioned so that both the jury and the witness could see the image clearly.
    Kinsela said to Durden, “Is this a photograph of your street?”
    “Yes.”
    “And this house marked A—is this your house?”
    “It is.”
    “This house marked B. It’s Mr. Herman’s house, isn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    “What do you see between your house and Mr. Herman’s house?”
    “The street.”
    “Yes, we all see the street. And do you see trees? A line of trees on both sides of the street?”
    “I could see Keith Herman plainly, carrying his daughter in his arms, putting her into the backseat of his Lexus—”
    “You saw a man putting a girl into which side of the car, Mr. Durden? The side of the car facing your house? Or did he open the door on the side closest to the Herman house, so that the car was between you and the action you’ve described?”
    “I saw Keith Herman carrying Lily.”
    “Please answer the question, Mr. Durden.”
    “He put her into the car on the side nearest his house.”
    “Okay. Thank you. Now, after that … when the man you saw that morning got into the driver’s side of the car, his back was to you, wasn’t it, sir? How could you possibly tell that it was Keith Herman, and not another man of average height and build, getting into a dark sedan?”
    Kinsela paced in the well, head down as he continued with his battery of questions.
    “Isn’t it possible, sir, that you saw a car like Mr. Herman’s car parked in front of Mr. Herman’s house, and from that you drew an understandable conclusion that the man was Mr. Herman? Isn’t it possible that you actually saw the
kidnapper
taking the child, not Mr. Herman?”
    “Your Honor, I object to Mr. Kinsela bombarding the witness with questions. Again, if there is a real question in there, what is it?”
    “Sustained. Please phrase
one
question, Mr. Kinsela. That’s a warning. Don’t do this again, or you will be fined.”
    “Sorry, Judge. I got carried away. Mr. Durden, given the distance, the visual obstacles, and that there are over sixty thousand dark Lexus sedans in San Francisco, could you have been mistaken when you stated that Keith Herman brought his daughter out to the car parked across the street from your house?”
    “I saw Keith Herman,” Durden said doggedly. “I saw him. I saw him one