Milton Fletcher walked to the witness stand, and there was a hushed whisper among the spectators.
He appeared quite refined, wearing glasses and a clean suit jacket, looking every bit the corporate executive—not at all like someone who could be cruel.
From his expression, it was evident that Milton Fletcher was quite uncomfortable on the witness stand, probably because he hadn't anticipated such a large mess from his actions. There was a look of shame and embarrassment on his face.
Purple Summers asked him, "Mr. Milton Fletcher, do you recognize that elderly lady sitting over there?"
Milton Fletcher nodded, "Yes, I recognize her."
"How do you know her?"
"I often dine at a restaurant and every time I'd see that elderly lady, picking up trash nearby..."
Purple Summers then inquired, "When you saw her, did you also see a small dog following her?"
This time Milton Fletcher hesitated before responding, "Yes, I saw it."
"Could you describe for the jury what kind of dog it was?"
