Ed McBain_Matthew Hope 12 Read Free

shorter.
     Both were made of mohair. Each had hanging around its neck a pair of spectacles on a gold chain.
    “Your Honor,” I said, “may we mark this as exhibit one for the plaintiff?”
    “So marked.”
    “Ms. Commins,” I said, “do you recognize this?”
    “I do.”
    “What is it?”
    “It’s a stuffed toy called Gladly the Cross-Eyed Bear, which I designed and had copyrighted and trademarked.”
    “I offer the bear in evidence, Your Honor.”
    “Any objections?”
    “None,” Brackett said. “Subject to our argument that the bear was
not
designed by Ms. Commins.”
    “Duly noted.”
    “Ms. Commins, was the design of this bear original with you?”
    “It was.”
    “To your knowledge, before you designed and named this bear, was there any other teddy bear in the world called Gladly the
     Cross-Eyed Bear?”
    “To my knowledge, there
was
not and
is
not.”
    “Have you registered the trademark Gladly the Cross-Eyed Bear?”
    “I have.”
    “Your Honor, may we mark this document as plaintiff’s exhibit number two?”
    “So marked.”
    “Ms. Commins, I show you this document and ask if you can identify it for me.”
    “It’s the original certificate of trademark registration for Gladly.”
    “You mean Gladly the
bear,
of course.”
    “I mean Gladly the Crow-Eyed Bear. The crossed eyes are a unique part of her design. As are the correcting eyeglasses. They
     are integral parts of the trade dress.”
    “Your Honor, I offer the certificate in evidence.”
    “Any objections?”
    “None.”
    “Your Honor, may we also mark
this
document?”
    “Mark it plaintiff’s exhibit number three.”
    “Ms. Commins, I now show you another document. Can you tell me what it is?”
    “Yes, it’s the original copyright registration certificate for Gladly.”
    “Did any drawings accompany the application for copyright?”
    “They did.”
    “And do they accurately depict the design of your bear?”
    “
And
the bear’s eyeglasses.”
    “Your Honor, I offer the copyright certificate and the accompanying drawings in evidence.”
    “Objections?”
    “None.”
    “Ms. Commins,” I said, “how would you describe Gladly?”
    “She’s a cross-eyed bear with big ears, a goofy smile, and eyeglasses that she can wear.”
    “Are all these design elements original with you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, aren’t there other teddy bears in the world with big ears?”
    “There are. But not like Gladly’s.”
    “And goofy smiles?”
    “Oh
boy
are there goofy smiles!” she said, and smiled in goofy imitation, which caused Santos to smile a bit goofily himself. “But
     not like Gladly’s.”
    “Are there other
cross
-eyed teddy bears in the world?”
    “None that I know of.”
    “Then the copyrighted crossed eyes on Gladly are unique to your bear.”
    “Yes.”
    “As is the trademarked name.”
    “Yes.”
    “How about the eyeglasses? Aren’t there teddy bears who wear eyeglasses?”
    “Not eyeglasses like these.”
    “What’s different about these glasses?”
    “They uncross her eyes.”
    “No glasses like that on any other teddy bear in the world?”
    “None that I know of.”
    “When did the idea for this bear first come to you?”
    There she was at last.
    Or rather, there was her
car,
a faded green Chevy not unlike Warren’s own faded gray Ford, nondescript and unremarkable, nosing its way out of the parking
     lot like a sand shark. She looked both ways and then made a right turn and drove on up the block. Warren waited till the Chevy
     was out of sight. He checked his watch. Ten minutes to ten.
    Give her another five minutes, he thought.
    Make sure she didn’t forget something, decide to come back for it.
    As Lainie Commins tells it, there are cul-de-sac streets in Calusa that make you think you’ve stepped into a time warp. Her
     house with its attached studio is on one of those streets. This is Calusa—this is, in fact,
Florida
—as it must have looked in the forties and fifties.
    I have