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eyes showing only cold, eager, practical logic, no trace of emotion
or even sympathy of any kind, really. "Well, while he's up there
with her under those conditions--so close to her again, you see"
(and his facial expression never altered so much as by a line) "he
experiences a change of heart. You get me? He's sorry for her.
He's ashamed of himself--his sin against her. That ought to appeal
to these fellows around here, these religious and moral people,
oughtn't it?"
"It might," quietly interpolated Belknap, who by now was very much
interested and a little hopeful.
"He sees that he's done her a wrong," continued Jephson, intent,
like a spider spinning a web, on his own plan, "and in spite of all
his affection for this other girl, he's now ready to do the right
thing by this Alden girl, do you see, because he's sorry and
ashamed of himself. That takes the black look off his plotting to
kill her while spending those two nights in Utica and Grass Lake
with her."
"He still loves the other girl, though?" interjected Belknap.
"Well, sure. He likes her at any rate, has been fascinated by that
life down there and sort of taken out of himself, made over into a
different person, but now he's ready to marry Roberta, in case,
after telling her all about this other girl and his love for her,
she still wants him to."
"I see. But how about the boat now and that bag and his going up
to this Finchley girl's place afterwards?"
"Just a minute! Just a minute! I'll tell you about that,"
continued Jephson, his blue eyes boring into space like a powerful
electric ray. "Of course, he goes out in the boat with her, and of
course he takes that bag, and of course he signs those registers
falsely, and walks away through those woods to that other girl,
after Roberta is drowned. But why? Why? Do you want to know why?
I'll tell you! He felt sorry for her, see, and he wanted to marry
her, or at least he wanted to do the right thing by her at the very
last there. Not before, not before, remember, but AFTER he had
spent a night with her in Utica and another one in Grass Lake. But
once she was drowned--and accidentally, of course, as he says,
there was his love for that other girl. He hadn't ceased loving
her even though he was willing to sacrifice her in order to do the
right thing by Roberta. See?"
"I see."
"And how are they going to prove that he didn't experience a change
of heart if he says he did and sticks to it?"
"I see, but he'll have to tell a mighty convincing story," added
Belknap, a little heavily. "And how about those two hats? They're
going to have to be explained."
"Well, I'm coming to those now. The one he had was a little
soiled. And so he decided to buy another. As for that story he
told Mason about wearing a cap, well, he was frightened and lied
because he thought he would have to get out of it. Now, of course,
before he goes to that other girl afterwards--while Roberta is
still alive, I mean, there's his relationship with the other girl,
what he intends to do about her. He's talking to Roberta, now you
see," he continued, "and that has to be disposed of in some way.
But, as I see it, that's easy, for of course after he experiences a
change of heart and wants to do the right thing by Roberta, all he
has to do is to write that other girl or go to her and tell her--
about the wrong he has done Roberta."
"Yes."
"For, as I see it now, she can't be kept out of the case entirely,
after all. We'll have to ring her in, I'm afraid."
"All right; then we have to," said Belknap.
"Because you see, if Roberta still feels that he ought to marry
her--he'll go first and tell that Finchley girl that he can't marry
her--that he's going away--that is, if Roberta doesn't object to
his leaving her that long, don't you see?"
"Yes."
"If she does, he'll marry her, either at Three Mile Bay or some
other place."
"Yes."
"But you don't want to forget that while she's still alive he's
puzzled and distressed. And it's only after that second night, at
Grass Lake, that he begins to see how wrong all his actions have
been, you understand. Something happens. Maybe she cries or talks
about wanting to die, like she does in those letters."
"Yes."
"And so he wants a quiet place where they can sit down in peace and
talk, where no one else will see or hear them."
"Yes, yes--go on."
"Well, he thinks of Big Bittern. He's been up there once before or
they're near there, then, and just below there, twelve miles, is
Three Mile Bay, where, if they decide to marry, they can."
"I see."
"If not, if she doesn't want to marry him after his full confession,
he can row her back to the inn, can't he, and he or she can stay
there or go on."
"Yes, yes."
"In the meantime, not to have any delay or be compelled to hang
about that inn--it's rather expensive, you know, and he hasn't any
too much money--he takes that lunch in his bag. Also his camera,
because he wants to take some pictures. For if Mason should turn
up with that camera, it's got to be explained, and it will be
better explained by us than it will be by him, won't it?"
"I see, I see," exclaimed Belknap, intensely interested by now and
actually smiling and beginning to rub his hands.
"So they go out on the lake."
"Yes."
"And they row around."
"Yes."
"And finally after lunch on shore, some pictures taken--"
"Yes."
"He decides to tell her just how things stand with him. He's
ready, willing--"
"I get you."
"Only just before doing that, he wants to take one or two more
pictures of her there in the boat, just off shore."
"Yes."
"And then he'll tell her, see?"
"Yes."
"And so they go out in the boat again for a little row, just as he
did, see?"
"Yes."
"But because they intend to go ashore again for some flowers, he's
left the bag there, see? That explains the bag."
"Yes."
"But before taking any more pictures there, in the boat on the
water, he begins to tell her about his love for this other girl--
that if she wants him to, now he'll marry her and then write this
Sondra a letter. Or, if she feels she doesn't want to marry him
with him loving this other girl..."
"Yes, go on!" interrupted Belknap, eagerly.
"Well," continued Jephson, "he'll do his best to take care of her
and support her out of the money he'll have after he marries the
rich girl."
"Yes."
"Well, she wants him to marry her and drop this Miss Finchley!"
"I see."
"And he agrees?"
"Sure."
"Also she's so grateful that in her excitement, or gratitude, she
jumps up to come toward him, you see?"
"Yes."
"And the boat rocks a little, and he jumps up to help her because
he's afraid she's going to fall, see?"
"Yes, I see."
"Well, now if we wanted to we could have him have that camera of
his in his hand or not, just as you think fit."
"Yes, I see what you're driving at."
"Well, whether he keeps it in his hand or doesn't, there's some
misstep on his part or hers, just as he says, or just the motion of
the two bodies, causes the boat to go over, and he strikes her, or
not, just as you think fit, but accidentally, of course."
"Yes, I see, and I'll be damned!" exclaimed Belknap. "Fine,
Reuben! Excellent! Wonderful, really!"
"And the boat strikes her too, as well as him, a little, see?" went
on Jephson, paying no attention to this outburst, so interested was
he in his own plot, "and makes him a little dizzy, too."
"I see."
"And he hears her cries and sees her, but he's a little stunned
himself, see? And by the time he's ready to do something--"
"She's gone," concluded Belknap, quietly. "Drowned. I get you."
"And then, because of all those other suspicious circumstances and
false registrations--and because now she's gone and he can't do
anything more for her, anyhow--her relatives might not want to know
her condition, you know--"
"I see."
"He slips away, frightened, a moral coward, just as we'll have to
contend from the first, anxious to stand well with his uncle and
not lose his place in this world. Doesn't that explain it?"
"About as well as anything could explain it, Reuben, I think. In
fact, I think it's a plausible explanation and I congratulate you.
I don't see how any one could hope to find a better. If that
doesn't get him off, or bring about a disagreement, at least we
might get him off with, well, say, twenty years, don't you think?"
And very much cheered, he got up, and after eyeing his long, thin
associate admiringly, added: "Fine!" while Jephson, his blue eyes
for all the world like windless, still pools, looked steadily back.
"But of course you know what that means?" Jephson now added, calmly
and softly.
"That we have to put him on the witness stand? Surely, surely. I
see that well enough. But it's his only chance."
"And he won't strike people as a very steady or convincing fellow,
I'm afraid--too nervous and emotional."
"Yes, I know all that," replied Belknap, quickly. "He's easily
rattled. And Mason will go after him like a wild bull. But we'll
have to coach him as to all this--drill him. Make him understand
that it's his only chance--that his very life depends on it. Drill
him for months."
"If he fails, then he's gone. If only we could do something to
give him courage--teach him to act it out." Jephson's eyes seemed
to be gazing directly before him at the very courtroom scene in
which Clyde on the stand would have Mason before him. And then
picking up Roberta's letters (copies of them furnished by Mason)
and looking at them, he concluded: "If it only weren't for these--
here." He weighed them up and down in his hand. "Christ!" he
finally concluded, darkly. "What a case! But we're not licked
yet, not by a darn sight! Why, we haven't begun to fight yet. And
we'll get a lot of publicity, anyhow. By the way," he added, "I'm
having a fellow I know down near Big Bittern dredge for that camera
to-night. Wish me luck."
"Do I?" was all Belknap replied.
Chapter 17
The struggle and excitement of a great murder trial! Belknap and
Jephson, after consulting with Brookhart and Catchuman, learning
that they considered Jephson's plan "perhaps the only way," but
with as little reference to the Griffiths as possible.
And then at once, Messrs. Belknap and Jephson issuing preliminary
statements framed in such a manner as to show their faith in Clyde,
presenting him as being, in reality, a much maligned and entirely
misunderstood youth, whose intentions and actions toward Miss Alden
were as different from those set forth by Mason as white from
black. And intimating that the undue haste of the district
attorney in seeking a special term of the Supreme Court might
possibly have a political rather than a purely legal meaning. Else
why the hurry, especially in the face of an approaching county
election? Could there be any plan to use the results of such a
trial as this to further any particular person's, or group of
persons', political ambitions? Messrs. Belknap and Jephson begged
to hope not.
But regardless of such plans or the prejudices or the political
aspirations of any particular person or group, the defense in this
instance did not propose to permit a boy as innocent as Clyde,
trapped by circumstances--as counsel for the defense would be
prepared to show--to be railroaded to the electric chair merely
to achieve a victory for the Republican party in November.
Furthermore, to combat these strange and yet false circumstances,
the defense would require a considerable period of time to prepare
its case. Therefore, it would be necessary for them to file a
formal protest at Albany against the district attorney's request to
the governor for a special term of the Supreme Court. There was no
need for the same, since the regular term for the trial of such
cases would fall in January, and the preparation of their case
would require that much time.
But while this strong, if rather belated, reply was listened to with
proper gravity by the representatives of the various newspapers,
Mason vigorously pooh-poohed this "windy" assertion of political
plotting, as well as the talk of Clyde's innocence. "What reason
have I, a representative of all the people of this county, to
railroad this man anywhere or make one single charge against him
unless the charges make themselves? Doesn't the evidence itself
show that he did kill this girl? And has he ever said or done one
thing to clear up any of the suspicious circumstances? No! Silence
or lies. And until these circumstances are disproved by these very
able gentlemen, I am going right ahead. I have all the evidence
necessary to convict this young criminal now. And to delay it until
January, when I shall be out of office, as they know, and when a new
man will have to go over all this evidence with which I have
familiarized myself, is to entail great expense to the county. For
all the witnesses I have gotten together are right here now, easy to
bring into Bridgeburg without any great expense to the county. But
where will they be next January or February, especially after the
defense has done its best to scatter them? No, sir! I will not
agree to it. But, if within ten days or two weeks from now even,
they can bring me something that will so much as make it look as
though even some of the charges I have made are not true, I'll be
perfectly willing to go before the presiding judge with them, and if
they can show him any evidence they have or hope to have, or that
there are any distant known witnesses to be secured who can help
prove this fellow's innocence, why, then, well and good. I'll be
willing to ask the judge to grant them as much time as he may see
fit, even if it throws the trial over until I am out of office. But
if the trial comes up while I'm here, as I honestly hope it will,
I'll prosecute it to the best of my ability, not because I'm looking
for an office of any kind but because I am now the district attorney
and it is my duty to do so. And as for my being in politics, well,
Mr. Belknap is in politics, isn't he? He ran against me the last
time, and I hear he desires to run again."
Accordingly he proceeded to Albany further to impress upon the
Governor the very great need of an immediate special term of the
Court so that Clyde might be indicted. And the Governor, hearing
the personal arguments of both Mason and Belknap, decided in favor
of Mason, on the ground that the granting of a special term did not
militate against any necessary delay of the trial of the case,
since nothing which the defense as yet had to offer seemed to
indicate that the calling of a special term was likely in any way
to prevent it from obtaining as much time wherein to try the case
as needed. Besides, it would be the business of the Supreme Court
justice appointed to consider such arguments--not himself. And
accordingly, a special term of the Supreme Court was ordered, with
one Justice Frederick Oberwaltzer of the eleventh judicial district
designated to preside. And when Mason appeared before him with the
request that he fix the date of the Special Grand Jury by which
Clyde might be indicted, this was set for August fifth.
And then that body sitting, it was no least trouble for Mason to
have Clyde indicted.
And thereafter the best that Belknap and Jephson could do was to
appear before Oberwaltzer, a Democrat, who owed his appointment to
a previous governor, to argue for a change of venue, on the ground
that by no possible stretch of the imagination could any twelve men
residing in Cataraqui County be found who, owing to the public and
private statements of Mason, were not already vitally opposed to
Clyde and so convinced of his guilt that before ever such a jury
could be addressed by a defense, he would be convicted.
"But where are you going then?" inquired Justice Oberwaltzer, who
was impartial enough. "The same material has been published
everywhere."
"But, your Honor, this crime which the district attorney here has
been so busy in magnifying--" (a long and heated objection on the
part of Mason).
"But we contend just the same," continued Belknap, "that the public
has been unduly stirred and deluded. You can't get twelve men now
who will try this man fairly."
"What nonsense!" exclaimed Mason, angrily. "Mere twaddle! Why,
the newspapers themselves have gathered and published more evidence
than I have. It's the publicly discovered facts in this case that
have aroused prejudice, if any has been aroused. But no more than
would be aroused anywhere, I maintain. Besides, if this case is to
be transferred to a distant county when the majority of the
witnesses are right here, this county is going to be saddled with
an enormous expense, which it cannot afford and which the facts do
not warrant."
Justice Oberwaltzer, who was of a sober and moral turn, a slow and
meticulous man inclined to favor conservative procedure in all
things, was inclined to agree. And after five days, in which he
did not more than muse idly upon the matter, he decided to deny the
motion. If he were wrong, there was the Appellate Division to
which the defense could resort. As for stays, having fixed the
date of the trial for October fifteenth (ample time, as he judged,
for the defense to prepare its case), he adjourned for the
remainder of the summer to his cottage on Blue Mountain Lake, where
both the prosecution and the defense, should any knotty or locally
insoluble legal complication arise, would be able to find him and
have his personal attention.
But with the entry of the Messrs. Belknap and Jephson into the
case, Mason found it advisable to redouble his efforts to make
positive, in so far as it were possible, the conviction of Clyde.
He feared the young Jephson as much as he did Belknap. And for
that reason, taking with him Burton Burleigh and Earl Newcomb, he
now revisited Lycurgus, where among other things he was able to
discover (1) where Clyde had purchased the camera; (2) that three
days before his departure for Big Bittern he had said to Mrs.
Peyton that he was thinking of taking his camera with him and that
he must get some films for it; (3) that there was a haberdasher by
the name of Orrin Short who had known Clyde well and that but four
months before Clyde had applied to him for advice in connection
with a factory hand's pregnant wife--also (and this in great
confidence to Burton Burleigh, who had unearthed him) that he had
recommended to Clyde a certain Dr. Glenn, near Gloversville; (4)
Dr. Glenn himself being sought and pictures of Clyde and Roberta
being submitted, he was able to identify Roberta, although not
Clyde, and to describe the state of mind in which she had
approached him, as well as the story she had told--a story which in
no way incriminated Clyde or herself, and which, therefore, Mason
decided might best be ignored, for the present, anyhow.
And (5), via these same enthusiastic efforts, there rose to the
surface the particular hat salesman in Utica who had sold Clyde the
hat. For Burton Burleigh being interviewed while in Utica, and his
picture published along with one of Clyde, this salesman chanced to
see it and recalling him at once made haste to communicate with
Mason, with the result that his testimony, properly typewritten and
sworn to, was carried away by Mason.
And, in addition, the country girl who had been on the steamer
"Cygnus" and who had noticed Clyde, wrote Mason that she remembered
him wearing a straw hat, also his leaving the boat at Sharon, a bit
of evidence which most fully confirmed that of the captain of the
boat and caused Mason to feel that Providence or Fate was working
with him. And last, but most important of all to him, there came a
communication from a woman residing in Bedford, Pennsylvania, who
announced that during the week of July third to tenth, she and her
husband had been camping on the east shore of Big Bittern, near the
southern end of the lake. And while rowing on the lake on the
afternoon of July eighth, at about six o'clock, she had heard a cry
which sounded like that of a woman or girl in distress--a
plaintive, mournful cry. It was very faint and had seemed to come
from beyond the island which was to the south and west of the bay
in which they were fishing.
Mason now proposed to remain absolutely silent regarding this
information, and that about the camera and films and the data
regarding Clyde's offense in Kansas City, until nearer the day of
trial, or during the trial itself, when it would be impossible for
the defense to attempt either to refute or ameliorate it in any
way.
As for Belknap and Jephson, apart from drilling Clyde in the matter
of his general denial based on his change of heart once he had
arrived at Grass Lake, and the explanation of the two hats and the
bag, they could not see that there was much to do. True, there was
the suit thrown in Fourth Lake near the Cranstons', but after much
trolling on the part of a seemingly casual fisherman, that was
brought up, cleaned and pressed, and now hung in a locked closet in
the Belknap and Jephson office. Also, there was the camera at Big
Bittern, dived for but never found by them--a circumstance which
led Jephson to conclude that Mason must have it, and so caused him
to decide that he would refer to it at the earliest possible
opportunity at the trial. But as for Clyde striking her with it,
even accidentally, well, it was decided at that time at least, to
contend that he had not--although after exhuming Roberta's body at
Biltz it had been found that the marks on her face, even at this
date, did correspond in some degree to the size and shape of the
camera.
For, in the first place, they were exceedingly dubious of Clyde as
a witness. Would he or would he not, in telling of how it all
happened, be sufficiently direct or forceful and sincere to
convince any jury that he had so struck her without intending to
strike her? For on that, marks or no marks, would depend whether
the jury was going to believe him. And if it did not believe that
he struck her accidentally, then a verdict of guilty, of course.
And so they prepared to await the coming of the trial, only working
betimes and in so far as they dared, to obtain testimony or
evidence as to Clyde's previous good character, but being blocked
to a degree by the fact that in Lycurgus, while pretending to be a
model youth outwardly, he had privately been conducting himself
otherwise, and that in Kansas City his first commercial efforts had
resulted in such a scandal.
However, one of the most difficult matters in connection with Clyde
and his incarceration here, as Belknap and Jephson as well as the
prosecution saw it, was the fact that thus far not one single
member of his own or his uncle's family had come forward to
champion him. And to no one save Belknap and Jephson had he
admitted where his parents were. Yet would it not be necessary, as
both Belknap and Jephson argued from time to time, if any case at
all were to be made out for him, to have his mother or father, or
at least a sister or a brother, come forward to say a good word for
him? Otherwise, Clyde might appear to be a pariah, one who had
been from the first a drifter and a waster and was now purposely
being avoided by all who knew him.
For this reason, at their conference with Darrah Brookhart they had
inquired after Clyde's parents and had learned that in so far as
the Griffiths of Lycurgus were concerned, there lay a deep
objection to bringing on any member of this western branch of the
family. There was, as he explained, a great social gap between
them, which it would not please the Lycurgus Griffiths to have
exploited here. Besides, who could say but that once Clyde's
parents were notified or discovered by the yellow press, they might
not lend themselves to exploitation. Both Samuel and Gilbert
Griffiths, as Brookhart now informed Belknap, had suggested that it
was best, if Clyde did not object, to keeping his immediate
relatives in the background. In fact, on this, in some measure at
least, was likely to depend the extent of their financial aid to
Clyde.
Clyde was in accord with this wish of the Griffiths, although no
one who talked with him sufficiently or heard him express how sorry
he was on his mother's account that all this had happened, could
doubt the quality of the blood and emotional tie that held him and
his mother together. The complete truth was that his present
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