“I didn’t think, Mr. Henry.”
“It would appear, Miss Randolph, that that is a trend in this matter.” Henry looked down his nose at the young woman watching for some reaction. He really didn’t care much if they detained her at the jail at this point. Well, he didn’t care as long as he wasn’t on the hook to represent her, especially seeing as how he wasn’t being paid to do any of this work so far. Marshall seemed to get on with the young woman just fine; perhaps he could take her on.
“Well, you are here now,” Henry said, “so you can either leave, creating a gossipmonger’s dream, or you can follow through on this crazy plan and enter the court to stare down Patsy Jefferson. Just know that you cannot do anything to intimidate or otherwise influence the witness. And also know that you may not leave today. Your choice.” Henry sat back in his chair. He was done; he didn’t care what she did. He could only control so many things in his life and Nancy Randolph was clearly not on that already too short list.
Marshall smiled, first at Henry and then at Nancy. “I think that sums it up, Nancy. What is your choice?”
Nancy chewed her bottom lip as she seemed to think it through. Henry wasn’t certain what she was processing for so long and, if she could think so hard, why had she not done so long before this moment. “Yes, I understand what you are both saying. I came here to help Richard. If I leave now, everyone will say it is because I was scared or had something to hide. I have nothing to hide. I will stay. I will risk it.”
Nancy actually had something rather large to hide, in fact. But time was short and Henry and Marshall were expected in the court to hear the testimony of the prosecution’s latest star witness. “Well then,” he said as he stood up. “Let’s get through this.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HENRY AND MARSHALL WALKED into the courtroom with Nancy close on their heels. She followed them nearly to the defense table at which time Henry asked a gentleman in the bench right behind the defense table to give up his seat for the lady.
“I say, man, I’ve been waiting hours to get such a good view.”
Henry smiled in acknowledgement. “I understand. But just think of the story you can tell when you let all your friends and loved ones that you gave up your seat for the one and only Nancy Randolph, here to listen to the testimony against her. I can ask someone else…”
That did the trick. The man peered around Henry to the girl behind, who at that point was almost visibly shaking, as the import of the situation must have been hitting her. “Well, I’ll be. Say, should she even be here?” Nancy looked at him and up to Henry as if he would answer her the question. “You bet I’ll give up my seat. She probably wants to see her special friend here, don’t she? Or get a good view of the testimony against her. Is she going to take the stand herself? Don’t tell me—I want to be surprised. Yes, yes, take my seat Miss Randolph. I have to tell my brother-in-law about this.”
The man was still talking as he stood up and started for the back of the room. Nancy didn’t say a word as she dropped into the space he vacated. Henry wondered how she must feel about the growing hum of the whispers going on around her as the audience realized who was in their midst. Fingers were pointed as the slow hiss of the name “Nancy” circulated around the room. Nancy sat in her seat and kept her eyes aimed firmly forward. Henry had to admire the fortitude it must have taken to maintain her composure while listening to everyone around her whisper her name and for her to catch their various trains of thought about her guilt or innocence.
Henry was still watching Nancy, at least out of the corner of his eye when the side door to the court opened and the bailiff led Richard into the room to sit at the defense table. Henry was certain he was not the only person in the room who noticed Richard’s face light up when he set eyes upon Nancy, sitting in the front row behind Henry and Marshall. "Oh, great," Henry muttered loud enough for only Marshall to hear.
"Indeed," Marshall whispered back. What could they possibly do, Henry thought? That was not the look of your typical man seeing one of his in-laws.
Henry should have felt panic, but a strange peace had settled on him. There was nothing to think or worry about. The only option left to him was to see what happened and try to mitigate as he could. One of Henry’s first legal mentors had reminded him that attorneys were not miracle workers; if your client was intent on creating as many problems as possible that was their prerogative. It was also, incidentally, their problem. That last part was still difficult for Henry. This is not my problem, this is not my problem, he repeated over and over in his head. Despite the wise advice, this felt very much like it was Henry’s riddle to solve. That said, he had to play the card that had been dealt, and he had been dealt a rather desultory hand on this draw.
When Richard sat down he turned to Henry, but Henry put his hand on his client’s arm before he could utter even one word. “No,” Henry whispered. “Do not react. We will discuss later.”
“But...” Richard began.
“Enough,” Marshall hissed as he stood. The justices had entered the room and the buzzing in the room came to an abrupt halt.
“All rise,” the bailiff called, and the courtroom came to order. After early morning preliminaries, Justice Carrington turned to Smith and Jones. “You may proceed, gentlemen.”
Henry inhaled deeply. This was it. The prosecution’s last witness, their great last hope witness. Richard fidgeted beside him nervously. Richard was worried about his sister-in-law’s appearance, although for what reason he had not articulated to either of his attorneys. Now Henry could guess a few reasons that Patsy could blow this case to pieces. “She’s smart,” was all he had said the night before when they had conferred together.
“Thank you, your honor,” Smith announced. “The Commonwealth calls our last witness, Mrs. Martha Jefferson Randolph.”
The members of the audience made a sound that seemed to Henry like a dignified exclamation of awe. Hearing the name caused an amplification of the energy in the room.
“Mrs. Randolph, please come forward and take the stand,” the court announced.
Every eye in the room turned to look at the young woman who had been sitting at the back of the courtroom. She slowly rose and walked almost languidly towards the front of the room. She wasn’t being purposefully slow or rude, Henry thought, just showing a predisposition towards a dignified calm. Marshall would say it was her French manners—he had commented on them the night before. Indeed, Martha “Patsy” Jefferson had been renown for her Continental mannerisms after returning from Paris where she had lived during her father’s ambassadorship.
As she drew near, Richard whispered to Henry. “Watch out for her. Don’t let her polite manners fool you. She’s a sharp one.” Henry glared at the young man. The last thing he needed or wanted was input from Richard about this or anything. There would be words once this day was over.
Once she arrived at the witness box, the judge banged his gavel once to silence the whispering in the courtroom. He turned his attention to Patsy. “Mrs. Randolph, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”
“I most certainly do, your honor.”
“Thank you. You may be seated.” Justice Carrington nodded to Smith. “Your witness, Mr. Smith.”
******
The Testimony of Martha “Patsy” Jefferson Randolph
Commonwealth of Virginia: Thank you very much for agreeing to come on such short notice, Mrs. Randolph.
Patsy Jefferson Randolph: I was happy to appear. In fact, I would have come sooner if someone had asked.
Interesting, Henry thought. It wasn’t exactly a friendly statement. It was almost chiding. If he noticed the tone, Smith didn’t seem to address it.
C of V: We are pleased you are here now. Please tell us how you know the defendant, Richard Randolph.
PJR: Well, he is a distant cousin but it would be more accurate to describe him as my husband’s cousin and brother-in-law. To me they are closer through marriage tha
n through blood.
C of V: “They,” Mrs. Randolph?
PJR: They being the Bizarre Randolphs. Nancy and Judith are also more closely related to my husband as they are his sisters. I presume that much was obvious.
Henry suppressed a smile. None of the Randolph witnesses were making life easy for Smith. If the younger man was more pleasant, Henry may have felt bad for him. As it was, Henry found it amusing. Perhaps Smith and Jones should have done a better job preparing a case wherein the only people bearing witness against the defendant were his blood relatives. In Henry’s experience, even a family that hated each other was loath to testify against their own. Even this family.
C of V: Yes, so Nancy and Judith, they are your sister-in-laws you said, Mrs. Randolph?
PJR: Correct, my husband’s sisters. Two of the same as Tom has many siblings.
C of V: And did either of those young women ever spend any time living with you, Mrs. Randolph?
PJR: Yes, after his mother’s death, we took on many of Tom’s siblings at Monticello. Some were there very shortly, others—the younger ones—were with us longer or remain with us. Judith did not stay with us as she married Richard just before her mother’s death. But Nancy came to stay with us for quite some time.
C of V: And how was Nancy during her time at Monticello?
PJR: Well, she was a perfect delight, Mr. Smith. She helped with the children, helped with housework, and was polite and well mannered.
Smith frowned. For the first time in this case, Henry felt he might agree with whatever the prosecutor may be feeling. This was an odd tactic for a witness to take. Either this was a setup for a biting criticism—she was very helpful, but—or this witness was hostile to the prosecution. It was a dangerous place to be as the attorney asking questions. Henry frankly wasn’t sure what he would do next if he were in Smith’s shoes. Upon reflection of Smith’s behavior throughout the case so far, Henry sat back and determined he would allow himself to enjoy the fallout from whatever direction this took.
C of V: Do you feel that Nancy changed after she left Monticello, or at any time during her stay?
Henry nodded. That was a good way to get out of it if any getting out was possible. He leaned forward, eagerly awaiting Patsy’s answer. He felt the courtroom lean towards the witness stand with him. He so wanted the answer to this query that he took a risk and did not object to the call for speculation.
PJR: Did she change? Well, that may be too much of a question for me to answer, particularly if the question is if she changed after she left my home. There isn’t really a way for me to know the answer to that question, is there?
Henry pursed his lips in thoughts. Hostile may be the case.
PJR: When she first arrived, she needed something from us. Her mother had just died and her father’s new wife—I hesitate to use the word “stepmother”—was not receptive to having her teenaged stepdaughter at Tuckahoe any longer. Since Nancy was just about too young for marriage, she needed to stay somewhere. My husband is her brother, so we opted to take on her along with a few of the younger siblings even though we didn’t really have the space or resources to feed so many mouths. Still, you can’t say no to family, even if…
“Objection, your honor.” Henry was on his feet. “Nonresponsive witness.” Henry didn’t agree with his own objection, but it was viable enough. This odd evidence rule allowed either attorney to stop a runaway witness if it seemed they were talking above and beyond the scope of the question. Sometimes you would make the objection to your own witness. In this situation, Henry had a bigger goal in mind than stopping the testimony of Patsy Jefferson Randolph.
Henry could feel the eyes of every person in the courtroom turn to look at him. Every eye including those belonging to Patsy Jefferson Randolph. Perfect, Henry thought.
“Your honor, the witness is not answering any question.”
“Mr. Smith,” Justice Carrington addressed the prosecution.
“Um, I believe she was responding, sir.”
“I don’t disagree, Mr. Smith. Overruled, Mr. Henry.”
“Thank you, your honor,” Henry responded, and he meant it. As he addressed the court, still holding the gaze of Patsy Jefferson Randolph, he stepped over to the side. He could see Patsy’s eyes shift ever so slightly to the right, Henry’s left, to a point just behind him. To a point that should coordinate exactly to where Nancy Randolph was sitting. Whatever Patsy had been about to say, she would now have to do so directly to the face of her sister-in-law.
Patsy was silent even after Henry conceded and sat down. Her eyes remained fixed on a spot behind Henry. God only knew what kind of nonverbal communication was happening behind him at that moment. Henry only prayed that whatever Nancy was doing didn’t amount to witness tampering and that the justices weren’t noticing if she was. Henry took several deep breaths and did his best to pretend ignorance of the young woman a foot or two behind him. He affected a pleasant smile and looked to Patsy to continue. When she said nothing, Smith prodded.
C of V: Mrs. Randolph, you were about to say you have to help family “even if…”
Henry had picked up on that, which is exactly why he had objected. That “even if” was where the danger lay and Smith knew it. Had Henry done enough to sway any response that was unfavorable? Was she ever going to say anything inflammatory, or had his objection been overkill? Either way, she now knew that the object of her testimony was sitting there, front and center, to bear witness herself. One could only hope that Nancy’s presence didn’t have the opposite effect.
Patsy smiled before she responded.
PJR: Of course, I remember, Mr. Smith. I was going to say “even if” there isn’t enough money to support more people. That’s all.
Henry nearly smacked the defense table in exultation. If there had ever been an incriminatory “even if,” it had literally died on the lips of the witness. He heard a rustling behind him. Nancy must have shifted, presumably in relief herself. It didn’t sit well with Henry that she would have any reason to feel relieved. This was a family of secrets and Henry felt this whole matter was just the tip of the iceberg. And so, Henry could only wonder with nervous trepidation what would happen next. The mood had shifted.
C of V: I see. So Nancy spent her time at Monticello being a model guest, no trouble?
PJR: Well, she was a dear girl and helped me with the keeping of the house, as I said, and with the children. The only trouble she seemed to have—and the anxiety it thus caused for me—were her frequent bouts of colic. Really rather severe, poor thing.
Henry’s mouth again felt very much like his jaw was about to drop to the table in front of him in shock. An attack of colic had been Richard and Nancy’s story about what had pained her at Glentivar. Patsy’s testimony corroborated that. This was exceptional for the defense; it was disastrously bad for Smith.
C of V: Mrs. Randolph, what do you think caused these episodes of colic?
PJR: I suppose I don’t know what causes colic, but I know what can help with attacks of the same.
Henry looked up from the notes he was taking; this was interesting. This was intentional.
C of V: Mrs. Randolph, I don’t know if that is necessarily information we need to know. It may not be relevant.
PJR: Why, Mr. Smith, the thing is that I gave the medicine to Nancy and so I think it may be very relevant.
Smith reddened. This woman was on the cusp of either crucifying or delivering from damnation her sister-in-law and Richard Randolph. Henry, along with the rest of the courtroom, held his breath.
C of V: Very well, Mrs. Randolph. Please tell us about the remedy for colic you gave to Nancy.
PJR: Thank you so much, Mr. Smith. Anyone who has been to Monticello will know that we do our best to be self-sufficient. In that vein, I have done what I can to grow our herbal garden and to have on hand a wide variety of medicinal varieties. I am able to help many of our family and our people through a variety of ailments.
So, when Nancy suff
ered from an ailment that appeared to be colic, I consulted with her. Determining that the issue was related to her stomach—and rather painful—I gave her the recipe for a tincture of gum guaiacum. I told her the use and how to make the same.
C of V: Thank you, Mrs. Randolph. If we can stick to the matter at hand, perhaps you can tell me what you know of the relationship between Nancy and Richard Randolph, the defendant.
Smith seemed perplexed by the testimony. Henry supposed this had not gone as he had planned. The witness was rambling. But, that said, there was something more to what this woman was saying, more than what she had said explicitly. Henry’s mind had started turning at twice the normal speed. He only half listened as Patsy’s testimony came to an end; Smith was fizzling and likely didn’t even know why or how.
PJR: Well, Nancy and Richard are sister- and brother-in-law, of course.
C of V: Are there rumors within your family about anything more to the relationship between the two, Mrs. Randolph?
Henry could have—and he could see that Marshall was itching to do the same—object on the grounds of hearsay, but there was no need to bother. The fact was that everyone knew the Randolphs were at odds. Hadn’t Richard’s own statement to the public mentioned the same? They may as well let this one go. Henry still felt that something was being overlooked.
PJR: I don’t think it is a secret that there are tensions within the family, Mr. Smith.
C of V: What kinds of tensions, Mrs. Randolph?
PJR: Significant tensions, I would say, sir.
Henry wondered if Smith was harboring fantasies of having never brought this matter to trial. The Randolphs were all, to the one difficult. What was still not exactly clear with Mrs. Jefferson Randolph, was whether she was a friend to Nancy and Richard. She could very well fall in the category of family members who felt sympathy for Nancy, but no such love for Richard. And, Henry reminded himself, Richard was the person at issue for the day’s purposes.
An Unspeakable Crime Page 17