The Arcanum of Beth

by Mary Jane Russell

  Janet returned to her seat. She felt oddly relieved. There had been enough secretiveness in her life.

  Ellen was livid. “That fat son-of-a-bitch had no call—”

  Janet silenced her with a look. “He was very slick. I’m glad it came from me and was not badgered from you. Calm down, you’ll have your chance.”

  Ellen nodded as she was called to the stand. She was all business, looking Howard and faces in the crowd in the eye as she was led through explaining how she opened Beth’s personal e-mail and found the correspondence Beth had forwarded to her account.

  “So at the time the last of these e-mails was written, Beth Candler and Lou Stephens were attempting to reconcile the problems they were having in their relationship?”

  “Yes, they were, from October to mid-February.”

  “I see.” Howard deviated from the script he had rehearsed with Janet and Ellen.

  “And would you read an e-mail from the month of November in Beth’s file labeled Betrayal?”

  “Objection. Hard copies have been introduced into evidence.”

  “Overruled. This will assist in summarizing the exhibits given to the jurors.”

  Ellen almost kept the corners of her mouth from twitching as she adjusted her bifocals and referred to the e-mail Howard requested. She made sure she was aligned with the microphone and proceeded in a clear voice.

  “‘Good morning, my sweet L-baby. How I wish I was there with you in our country home to gently awaken you with kisses all over and so much more. I cannot bear being separated from you so much of the time. You have suffered through so much with Beth and Will as have I. We only have to hide our love a little longer as we figure out how to be together for the rest of our lives, no matter what it takes to be rid of the obstacles standing in our way. We have had enough pain being apart and enduring life with the wrong partners. What a difference it makes to find your soul mate. I could not love you more, and if you love me, don’t forget to remove this from your inbox permanently.’”

  “It is signed ‘PrincessP.” Ellen did not wait to be asked. “That’s the same as her personalized license plate—Princess Patti.”

  The courtroom was absolutely silent.

  “And the e-mails were sent from Patti Candler’s account to Lou Stephens’s account?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Discovered by Beth Candler and forwarded by Beth to her own account?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All password protected?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And the other e-mails are similar in content?”

  “Some are more sexually explicit.”

  “Would you read the e-mail from the Betrayal file dated February 3?”

  Ellen remembered that one well. She read without embellishment—none was needed.

  “‘It is early morning, L-baby. Will snores contentedly in the bed as I slip away with my laptop. You must promise to delete this as soon as you read it, as I know you have all the others. I’ve given our last conversation much thought and have decided now is the time for you to proceed with my plan. More when I see you next. PrincessP.’”

  Howard nodded and sat down, daring Rich to open the can of worms of cross-examination.

  Rich moved as though to stand and changed his mind, restraining Lou instead.

  Greg leaned forward and whispered in Janet’s ear. “That’s the one Howard used to bait Patti, isn’t it?”

  Janet nodded.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  “I’m sorry, because I hate using the word on a man for all the obvious reasons, but the expression fits. Will Candler is a pussy.” Ellen slammed her mug of Folgers on the kitchen table to accentuate her point.

  Buddy raised his head and issued a deep-throated growl.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel.” Ellen rubbed the dog’s head. “Sorry, Bud, I didn’t mean to disturb your breakfast nap.”

  The Australian shepherd settled back onto the braided rug under the table and chairs and sighed.

  Janet repeated the sigh and gave up on working the crossword puzzle. She had looked at nothing else in the newspaper, and the small televisions in the kitchen and office were silent. Ellen was at the table with her because Janet had requested the set in the den also remain off. “Okay, Ms. Court TV aficionado, what do you not understand?”

  Ellen made her voice stay at its normal volume. “Well, it’s really pretty simple, they killed his sister. Why wouldn’t he tell everything he knows against them?”

  Janet looked out the kitchen window. The male finches had turned a brilliant yellow with their spring coats. They covered the feeder filled with thistle seed. “He agreed to cooperate with Howard, but he feels obligated to protect his wife. He’s a man clearly torn by the few emotions he will allow himself to feel. He blames Lou for all of it.” Janet had told only Howard what little she knew of Will’s mishandling of client funds that Patti held him in tow with—that it happened ten years ago in another state with no formal charges filed.

  “Bullshit. He knows. He’s just a damn pussy. He should hate those two women.” Ellen stormed out of the kitchen to dress for court.

  “It’s never that simple.” Janet finished her coffee and followed to suit up.

  Janet and Ellen settled in on the bench immediately behind Howard. It was now their designated seating that others stayed clear of. Janet found it to be a dubious honor. She felt a hand on her shoulder and knew it belonged to Greg before she looked.

  “Are you girls okay?” Greg leaned forward and whispered.

  “We were worried about you after yesterday,” Andy added. “Every time I called last night, your line was busy.”

  “We’re as well as we can be. She’s thrilled that I’m out.” Janet nodded at Ellen. “It still has not sunk in with me, even if Mother has decided her life is ruined.” Janet rolled her eyes. “I figure we’re the least of anyone’s worries at this point.”

  Ellen took Janet’s hand in hers. “It’ll be okay.”

  “That’s easy for someone who’s R-E-T-I-R-E-D to say. Tom was certainly gracious enough about it.” Her law partner, Tom Langhorne, had been the first to call her at home the previous night. She explained to Greg, “He’s decided that whatever clients we lose, we’ll pick up more from the publicity, and we didn’t really want the ones lost anyway, wheat from chaff.” She shrugged. “At least I don’t have to live with what’s on his mind.” She stared at Will.

  Will Candler approached the witness stand. The expensive suit that had once made him appear so dapper now hung loosely on his body. His complexion had taken on an unhealthy gray cast. He looked as though he was taking his place before the executioner’s chopping block as he was sworn in and settled into the wooden chair. He had to be reminded twice to speak up as he went through the process of stating basic facts about himself and his relationship to Beth.

  “Were you and your sister close while she was helping your mother care for your father?”

  Will shifted on the hard bottom chair. “We talked on the phone and we e-mailed.”

  “Daily?”

  “No.”

  “Weekly?”

  “No.”

  “Monthly?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you were given an equal share of your father’s estate?”

  “Yes.”

  Howard glanced at the judge. “Same with your mother’s worsening health?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Monthly e-mail or telephone call?”

  “Yes. Until the last time she was in the hospital. Patti and I were here when Mother died. We helped divide the household when Mother sold the farm and moved to Beth and Lou’s. We moved back to Virginia after Mother’s death.”

  “To be close to Beth and Lou?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you inherited an equal share of your mother’s estate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Beth treated you fairly in the settlement?”

  “Yes. Beth was M
other’s executrix. Mother left everything to Beth to do with as she saw fit.”

  “Beth looked out for your interests?”

  “Yes. Beth was always fair.” Will’s hands gripped the arms of the chair as though the only way for him not to fidget.

  Janet nodded to herself. Howard Mills was an excellent trial attorney. She had given thanks many times since being told the case was on his list. Anyone who didn’t realize that every nuance of a trial he was involved with was scripted and in his head soon came to regret taking the slight black man for granted. Howard’s small stature was no reflection of his intelligence. Quite the opposite.

  Howard rubbed his cheek as though checking for whiskers. “How long have you been married, Mr. Candler?”

  “Not quite twelve years.”

  “And what does your wife do?”

  “Patti is an antiques broker, buying estates and selling to dealers. She also volunteers for the United Way and the Cancer Society…at least she did when we lived in Tennessee.”

  “Have you ever considered divorce?”

  “No. I am committed to my marriage.” Will’s voice was flat.

  Howard nodded as though in sympathy. “Where were you when the accident occurred?”

  “In the basement at Beth and Lou’s, shooting pool.”

  “Drinking alcohol?”

  “Yes.”

  “Heavily?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know where your sister was or what she was doing?”

  “No, I hadn’t seen her since breakfast.”

  “Did you know where your wife was or what she was doing?”

  Will stared at Lou.

  “Mr. Candler?”

  “Patti was with Lou on the sofa in the living room, watching television. Patti was also by my side at the hospital as we prayed for Beth to live. Lou was the one who aggravated Beth the morning of the accident. Lou taunted Beth that the tractor was the only thing that made Beth happy anymore. Beth agreed with Lou and left the house headed toward the tractor shed.”

  “Did you and Patti and Lou usually stay inside the house during the day?”

  “Patti had to because of allergies. I did because I have never done manual labor. Lou was usually in and out, tinkering with the tractors or lawnmower or working on outbuildings or the house, always trying to be the man of the house. Lou never could sit still very long, even for Patti. Beth either worked in her office or at Mother’s or was on the tractor.”

  “Beth had operated a tractor since childhood?”

  “Yes, since her feet reached the brake pedal.” Will’s face paled.

  Howard nodded and seemed to hesitate before asking his next question. “The last time you talked to your sister, did you tell Beth that you never wanted to see her again?”

  Janet held her breath. She had prompted Howard to ask this without forewarning Will.

  “Yes.” Will’s expression and voice were anguished.

  “Thank you, Mr. Candler. I reserve the right to redirect later if needed.” Howard sat in front of Janet and Ellen and reached for the glass and pitcher of water.

  It was all Janet could do not to lean over the railing and hug him.

  “Damn, he’s good.” Ellen whispered to Janet with her eyes on the defendant’s table.

  Janet nodded and felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked behind her, then covered Gloria’s hand with her own. Gloria sat between Andy and Greg. Janet saw Ruth Dunn in burgundy scrubs two rows behind Gloria. They both must have used vacation hours to observe the proceedings.

  They watched and listened as Rich Tyler unsuccessfully tried to defuse Will’s testimony. He only emphasized a man miserable with his life. Janet thought of one of Keith’s sayings—when you dig yourself into a hole, remember whose hands were on the shovel.

  Howard had subpoenaed Delores Clowdis from North Carolina and kept her in a motel room until ready to bring her to the stand.

  Delores approached the front of the courtroom, keeping her eyes on the judge and moving with a grace that belied her height. Like Ellen, she had pulled her former office clothes from the depths of her closet and applied base makeup to her tan and weathered complexion. She looked like one of the new, older models for L.L. Bean.

  Howard guided her through introducing herself and explaining her past and present occupations. There was an incredible air of genuineness about the woman, just as Howard had banked on.

  She answered Howard’s questions calmly and rationally without embellishment. Howard stood so that as she looked him in the eye with her responses, she made eye contact with the jury. She told of the first time that Lou Stephens came to Lucky’s with Beth.

  “And the last time that you saw Ms. Stephens, was she alone?”

  “No. She came in with Patti Candler last October, a year after she was there with Beth Candler.”

  “As friends?”

  “Extremely intimate friends.” Delores put the emphasis on “friends” that closet lesbians used.

  There was a low rumble of nervous laughter across the courtroom. Judge Henderson rapped her gavel.

  “The women were romantic in public?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Were they planning the rest of their vacation?”

  “They discussed how to continue their affair while they found a way to be free of their spouses without suffering financially. They joked about deceiving their spouses and friends. When the husband called and told Patti Candler to choose between him and Lou, they decided to hide what they were doing. They thought secrecy would make the affair even more special.” Delores was unable to contain her disgust.

  “Hot damn,” Ellen whispered to Janet as Howard thanked Delores and returned to his table.

  Rich tried to rattle Delores’s memory. “Ms. Clowdis, you’re absolutely sure that Patti Candler was in your establishment with Lou Stephens?”

  “Oh, yes. Faces and dates are two things I have absolute recall of after years of working with the public on behalf of the commonwealth.”

  “And just what type is your establishment,” Rich glanced at his notes, “Lucky’s?” He looked puzzled.

  “It’s the most popular lesbian bar in the Outer Banks. All the girls come there to be seen and hook up where they can be open about their sexuality. We’re even used to the women who are only experimenting while leaving husbands at home.”

  Ellen elbowed Janet. “He asked for that one.”

  Rich backpedaled. His tactical error was in thinking he would discredit Delores because of her clientele. Instead the courtroom was nodding in understanding. “Where were Lou and Patti seated?”

  “They took stools at the bar while waiting for a booth to become available.”

  “And you heard every word of their conversation?”

  “I was back and forth serving customers at the bar and mixing drinks for the waitresses. I heard enough of their conversation. The more they drank, the louder they talked.”

  Rich Tyler returned to his seat.

  Next, Howard called Addie Tomlinson, one of Delores’s waitresses.

  She took a deep breath and shook her blond curls as she walked along the center aisle of the courtroom toward the judge. Addie sat on the edge of the witness chair. No amount of coaching by Delores would keep the nervous timbre out of the girl’s voice. This was the most exciting thing she had done in her twenty-two years. She explained who she was and where she worked.

  “Were you working the night that Lou Stephens came into the bar with Patti Candler?” Howard asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I didn’t know who they were at the time, but I noticed that they were the only customers that Delores, Ms. Clowdis, paid any attention to that night, so I did the same after they moved from the bar to one of my booths.”

  “And did you hear them discuss how to continue their affair while they found a way to be free of their spouses without suffering financially?” Howard trusted his memory and R
ich’s objection if he strayed.

  “I didn’t hear as much as Ms. Clowdis because I was back and forth between booths while Ms. Clowdis stood at the bar. But Ms. Clowdis missed the last of it after them two moved.”

  “The last of it?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll never forget because they were trying to act like they were carrying on foolishness like most of the customers, but they were serious.”

  Howard waited.

  “The fancy blonde asked the little dyke,” she pointed at Lou, “if she would kill for her.” Addie said it so simply that it took a moment for the answer to sink in with the jury and the audience.

  Howard stopped in front of the defense’s table. “If I may, for the record. Patti Candler asked Lou Stephens,” he gestured at her, “if she would kill for her?”

  “Yes, sir.” Addie nodded emphatically, curls shaking in all directions.

  “And Lou Stephens’s answer?”

  Addie closed her eyes briefly, as though revisiting the scene. “Anything for you, baby.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Tomlinson.” Howard nodded first to the judge, then to Rich.

  Rich Tyler stood at his place at the table. “And you remember this verbatim, word for word?”

  “Yes, sir. I’d never forget those two. They tried to tip me enough to take them back to my place, but I wasn’t interested. I could tell they were two fucked-up bitches.”

  The judge rapped her gavel and stared at the jury. “Disregard the witness’s last sentence. Miss Tomlinson, use that language again in my courtroom and you will be severely fined.”

  “Ms. Tomlinson, did Patti Candler ask my client if she would kill Beth Candler for her?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did Patti Candler and my client have their physical relationship on their minds that night?”

  “Were they hot for each other? Oh, yes, sir.” Addie glanced at Judge Henderson, afraid that she had blundered again.

  “And they were drinking heavily?”

  Addie mentally counted trips to the booth. “Yes, sir, at least four drinks each, maybe more.”

  “Thank you, Miss Tomlinson.” Rich sat down, looking pleased with himself as he forced his body between the arms of the chair.