A Second Daniel

by Neal Roberts

  “Duly noted,” intones the judge.

  “Would you agree, Master Meyrick? About twenty-five feet?”

  The witness regards Noah a bit skeptically at first, and then, as the Court has already ruled, concedes the point. “That’s about right, sir.”

  “And were you about the same distance from the killer?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How high would you say the wheat had grown by that time?”

  Meyrick shrugs. “About three feet, sir.”

  Noah nods gravely to show interest in the answer. He takes a few steps forward, and taps on the gated balustrade separating the barristers’ well from the judge’s precinct. It’s comprised of straight white balusters spaced about six inches apart, topped horizontally by a polished wooden rail. “Three feet is about the height of this barrier, is it not?”

  “It is, sir, far as I can tell.”

  “Well, let’s leave the precise measure out of the question completely. Is this barrier approximately the height of the wheat around the victim and the killer?”

  “Aye,” says Meyrick, a note of suspicion in his voice.

  “M’lord,” whines Coke. “This line of questioning by Master Ames leaves the Crown unenlightened.”

  Noah smiles. “While the defense expresses no view concerning the Crown’s claim to be unenlightened, if we are given small leeway, the significance of this line of questioning will soon become apparent.” This bit of humor is evidently difficult for the jury, but a few titters can be heard as individual jurors realize that Coke has pronounced himself unenlightened. Coke’s face turns a dark red.

  Noah avoids looking to the judge, as Coke’s outburst was not actually stated as an objection. “Master Meyrick, may I ask you to repeat the individual events you recounted in response to m’lord’s question?”

  “The whole thing, suh?”

  Noah nods. “Please.”

  Meyrick takes a deep preparatory breath. “First, I seen the victim bendin’ over a sheaf o’ wheat on the ground. The second thing, the assailant drops his scythe.” Meyrick’s counting on his digits is quite evident, and, for the first time, a few jurors seem to notice. “The third thing: he picks up a cudgel lyin’ on the ground next to some twine. Next, he turns ’round to the victim. Next, he brings the cudgel up over ’is ’ed and strikes the victim in the left shoulder — a … a … ” Meyrick is stuck for the word.

  “A glonssing blow?” offers Noah, pointedly staring at Coke, whose shade of red further deepens.

  “Aye, that’s right. Thank you, suh.” A couple of smothered laughs come from the jury box. Meyrick’s fingers are really flying now.

  “Next thing: victim turns ’round, sees the killer, flails his arms. Victim tries to run away, but he’s been, uh, scragglin’ a tree branch, trips and falls flat on the ground. Then, the victim’s on the ground, and the killer bends over and gives him a killin’ blow.”

  “I see,” says Noah, who appears to search his memory for something he cannot find. “What was the fourth thing, again?”

  Meyrick looks at the ceiling, searching his memory, and touches his right thumb to his fourth finger. “Brings the cudgel up over ’is ’ed.”

  Noah feigns confusion. “Sure that wasn’t the fifth thing?”

  Meyrick seems deep in thought as he silently runs through his mental list of events, touching his right thumb to various fingers. His eyes open wide. “Why, yes, sir. You’re right, sir. Fourth thing was: the killer turns ’round toward the victim.”

  The jury bursts into laughter as one. Meyrick is clearly shocked by their reaction, and Coke noticeably crestfallen.

  Noah asks, “Would it be fair to say, Master Meyrick, that you have recounted this story more than once before testifying today?”

  “Yes, suh,” says Meyrick, evidently missing the point.

  “To Master Coke, perhaps?”

  “Aye, suh.”

  “Did Master Coke assist you in organizing your testimony?”

  “He did very kindly, suh,” says Meyrick.

  “Was the phrase ‘a glonssing blow’ first offered by Master Coke?”

  Meyrick nods. “It was, suh.”

  Noah glances up at the jury box, and is pleased to see several jurymen lean forward, listening intently.

  “Do you recall using the word ‘scraggling’ in your testimony today with reference to the victim and a tree branch lying on the ground?”

  Coke leans over the table toward the judge. “M’lord, the Crown objects to Master Ames’ shameful attempt to humiliate the witness on grounds of his limited vocabulary.”

  “To the contrary, m’lord,” says Noah. “The witness obviously knows a word or two I’ve never encountered.” This is met by a brief outburst of laughter from the gallery, which provides Noah with a pretext to look up. Sir Robert leans on the railing, gazing down at him with a bemused expression.

  The judge’s eyes go wide. He rises from the bench and glowers at the young barristers in the gallery, his face ashen, a frightening move, even made by a temperate old jurist like Bleffingham. The gallery goes deathly quiet.

  “So help me God, I will clear this courtroom of everyone in it!” he shouts. To everyone’s relief, he resumes his seat. Taking a moment to compose himself, but still glowering, he says: “The Crown’s objection is overruled. Master Ames, you will stick to the point!”

  “Yes, m’lord,” replies Noah. He takes a deep breath. “M’lord, the defense requests leave to ask the witness to demonstrate how one ‘scraggles’ something on the ground.”

  Coke is about to speak, but the judge holds up his hand to silence him before he can get a word out.

  “Denied, Master Ames. The witness will not leave the box.” The judge thinks for a moment, and comes up with a solution he evidently finds highly judicious. “But you may demonstrate for the witness, and ask him if you are getting it right.” No doubt, the judge deems it fair turnabout to allow Noah to make himself an object of ridicule by bending and squatting before the jury. Noah is certain he caught the judge smirking furtively toward the Secretary of State while issuing this ruling.

  “Yes, m’lord. Please give me a moment.”

  From defense table, Noah picks up two books and a heavy walking stick of a type often used to ward off beggars. He lays the items out in a roughly straight line on the floor before the jury, where Meyrick will have a good view of them. He places one foot on either side of the line he has made.

  “Master Meyrick, please pretend this line of items to be a tree branch, and tell me if I am ‘scraggling’ it now.”

  Meyrick looks at Noah’s feet. “No.”

  Noah registers genuine surprise, as he imagined that Meyrick’s “scraggling” was merely a mistaken pronunciation of another common word such as “straggling,” “saddling,” or “straddling.” As straddling a branch might in some way have caused the victim to trip and fall to the ground, Noah has now straddled his makeshift branch, but with no luck.

  Noah places his feet in a line atop the makeshift branch. “Now?”

  Meyrick shakes his head again. “No.”

  Noah removes his feet from the “branch” and squats down next to it, placing his hands over it. “Now?”

  Several members of the jury laugh aloud at the absurd postures assumed by Noah in this guessing game. Even the judge seems to enjoy it, though he hides his smile behind a handkerchief. Noah rather enjoys the process, as levity is an accused’s best friend, especially directed toward Crown testimony.

  “No, suh,” says Meyrick, turning to the judge. “Would you mind my givin’ him a hint, m’lord?”

  “If the spirit so moves you,” replies Lord Bleffingham.

  “Walk over to the jury box, Master Ames.” Noah does so. “Now, walk towards the ‘branch,’ and stop just before reachin’ it.”

  Noah stands to one side of the branch. “Like this?”

  “Yes, suh. Now move your feet so they aim at me.”

  “Like so?”

&nb
sp; “Aye, that’s it. Now you’re scragglin’ it.”

  Noah looks down at his feet, and scratches his head.

  “M’lord, may we please have the record show that I am standing with my feet about four inches apart, both of them being to the same side of the makeshift branch at an angle of approximately forty-five degrees from the branch. And the toes of both feet are pointing toward the branch … and are approximately six inches away from the branch.” He turns to the witness. “This is ‘scraggling’?”

  “I hope so, suh,” says the witness gravely, causing the jury to laugh once again.

  Jonathan helps Noah collect the books and walking stick from the floor. By pre-arrangement, Jonathan then precisely reconstitutes the “branch” on counsel’s side of the balustrade, making no effort at concealment.

  Noah smooths his hair back and resumes his place at the lectern. “Master Meyrick, did the word ‘scraggling’ also come from Master Coke?”

  “Yes, suh,” replies the witness, his eyes hopefully scanning the jury.

  “And do you recall telling m’lord that the victim ‘flailed’ his arms upon seeing his armed attacker?”

  “Aye.”

  “Without leaving the box, could you demonstrate for the court how the victim flailed his arms?”

  The witness silently turns toward the judge and holds his arms up, as though the judge were about to assail him, and does not move. As an extra touch, his face assumes a fearful expression.

  Noah allows a moment to pass for the jury to take in the witness frozen in his stationary position, still as a statue.

  “Thank you, Master Meyrick. And have you now demonstrated to us your conception of ‘flailing’?”

  The witness nods curtly, prompting the judge to say: “Your answers must be spoken, Master Meyrick, as the court scribe cannot record your gestures.”

  “Sorry, m’lord,” Meyrick sheepishly replies. “Yes, that’s what I understand to be flailin’.”

  Noah, eyes downcast, asks, “And this word also came from Master Coke, is that correct?”

  “Aye, suh.”

  At last, Coke speaks up. “M’lord, Master Ames has just spent a great deal of time demonstrating nothing more than that the witness discussed his testimony beforehand with Crown prosecutors,” he turns to the jury, “which is both commonplace and perfectly proper. Indeed, the Crown would have been remiss if it had failed to take the witness’s statement.”

  Noah corrects: “To take it. Not to give it.”

  The judge regards Noah weighingly. “Master Ames, I trust you have more to show than this.”

  “I do, indeed, m’lord, and it shan’t take more than a few moments.”

  “Proceed.”

  Noah whispers to Jonathan, who removes a clean linen sheet borrowed from Gray’s Inn that morning, unfolds it, and hands two ends to Noah. Together, they open the sheet and hang it over the three-foot balustrade so that nothing can be seen through the gaps between the balusters. Jonathan discreetly moves the items comprising the makeshift “branch,” stacking them out of sight in a corner, and replaces them with a child’s blue plush toy in the shape of a dog.

  Coke cannot resist. “M’lord, what do we learn from this sheet, other than the deficiencies of the laundry at Gray’s Inn?” As every lawyer in the room knows, Noah and Jonathan are of Gray’s Inn, while Coke is of a rival Inn of Court called “Inner Temple.”

  Noah moves away from the lectern, and steps up to counsel’s side of the balustrade, so that his lower body is hidden from the witness by the sheet.

  “Master Meyrick, when I was scraggling the makeshift branch earlier, what was I wearing on my feet?”

  The witness’s eyebrows rise. “Boots, suh?”

  “And now?”

  Meyrick looks to where he expects Noah’s feet to be, but his view is blocked.

  “I don’t rightly know, suh.”

  “In fact, I could be barefoot right now, wiggling my toes at you, and you would not know it. Is that right?”

  “No, suh. I would not know.”

  “Can you tell if I have folded my robes up to my thighs?”

  “I cannot, suh.”

  The judge glowers at Noah. Noah shakes his head to assure the Court that no such breach in protocol has transpired. The judge seems mollified.

  “And what is right here, beside me on the floor?”

  “The ‘branch,’ suh?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, that’s what was there before you hung the sheet over the barrier, suh.”

  “In fact, you don’t know what’s down there now, do you?”

  “I do not, suh. I cannot see.”

  “Have we already established that you are standing the same distance from me as you were from the killer and the victim at the time of the murder?”

  “Aye, suh.”

  “I believe you testified that the field was level. Correct?”

  “Yes, suh.”

  “And you also testified that, before the murder, the victim was stooping over a sheaf of wheat on the ground?”

  “Yes, suh.”

  “But you could not see the sheaf. Correct?”

  The witness’s eyes grow wide, and his face loses all color. He begins to sweat. “No.” He finds a handkerchief and daubs at his forehead.

  “And you also testified that, before the killer picked up the cudgel, it lay on the ground next to a ball of twine?”

  “Correct, suh.”

  “But in fact you could not see the twine, could you, as it was on the ground. Correct?”

  “Aye, suh.”

  “And the tree branch that was being ‘scraggled’ by the victim? You could not see that, either?”

  “Correct.”

  Noah infuses his voice with indignation. “Because it was on the ground, and your view of the ground was blocked by the unharvested wheat. Correct?”

  The witness looks as though he might faint dead away. “I just assumed it was a branch — ”

  “But that was not your testimony, was it?”

  Meyrick hesitates. “It was not,” he admits. His eyes dart toward the door, and he wilts in despair.

  “In fact, you did not see the cudgel on the ground, or the twine on the ground, or the branch on the ground … nor even the victim … once he was on the ground. Correct?”

  “Correct, suh,” echoes Meyrick vacantly. He is now a beaten man.

  “Did you in fact witness anything of what you have testified to this morning?”

  “I must have witnessed another crime.”

  Noah’s jaw drops, and he gazes at the witness in disbelief. He turns to Coke, and sniffs: “No doubt the Crown will proffer your testimony in the trial of that crime!”

  The entire courtroom erupts into laughter and conversation.

  Amidst the uproar, Jonathan calmly removes the sheet from the balustrade, for the first time revealing to Court, jury, and witness a blue toy resembling a dog, its eyes crossed in a most farcical manner, its red fabric tongue hanging out stupidly. The jury laughs aloud and points.

  Beneath the din, the judge can be heard pounding his open hand very hard on a closed book before him. He stands and points angrily at the toy. “Master Ames, where did you get that ridiculous thing?”

  Noah looks at the toy, genuinely surprised at its humorous appearance. “I expect it’s a souvenir of Inner Temple, m’lord.”

  This ill-considered remark is about as far as Noah has ever pushed his luck in court, and he’s sorry as soon he’s passed it. Nevertheless, for a moment the judge can barely conceal his mirth, causing his face to blush in embarrassment, and he resumes pounding the book until the court comes to order. The young barristers in the gallery peer every which way to catch a glimpse of whatever ridiculous thing is lying on the floor before counsel table, but their view is blocked.

  “Counsel will approach the bench.” Noah and Coke soberly trudge to the bench. “You, too, Master Hawking.”

  Coke and Noah are both com
pletely abashed. Coke is deeply embarrassed, not only because he now has no witness to place the accused at the crime scene, but also because everyone knows he has attempted to compensate for inadequate preparation by coaching the witness, a tactic which rarely works in the new day of cross-examination by counsel.

  Noah’s infraction is one of demeanor, which many a judge would regard as more serious than anything Coke has done. A judge will jealously guard his prerogative of running the courtroom, and any counsel challenging the judge’s sense of control is setting himself up for severe admonition. Noah is a natural, if understated, showman who must try hard to avoid using his wit to dance rings around others.

  Before either Coke or Noah reaches the bench, Jonathan races ahead of them, tears welling up in his eyes. The judge looks very sympathetic.

  “What’s the matter, Master Hawking? You appear to be winning!”

  “Yes, m’lord, but I want to apologize for bringing that … that, silly-looking toy into the courtroom. Master Ames had not seen it before I drew the sheet off the balustrade. You see,” Jonathan speaks in heartbreaking tones, “he told me that we would need some innocent-looking object, such as a child’s toy, to make a point in the courtroom, but I was not sure why he would need it, so I thought it did not matter how it looked, so I borrowed the … dog … from my nephew’s toy chest.”

  “I see,” says the judge, somewhat mollified. “What is his name?”

  “‘Finerty,’ m’lord.”

  The judge relaxes considerably at the thought of a young child. “Well, you tell Finerty — ”

  ”No, m’lord. Finerty is the dog.”

  “The toy?”

  “Yes, m’lord. My nephew’s name is James.”

  “Why did James name the toy dog ‘Finerty’?”

  “What, m’lord? Oh, just before I gave it to him, for some unknown reason, he asked me what the highest number was.”

  “And you said ‘infinity,’ and he changed that to ‘Finerty’ and gave the toy dog that name?” The judge turns to Noah. “Is this true, according to your knowledge, Master Ames?”

  “I can say of my own knowledge that it is true, insofar as I asked Master Hawking to bring a child’s toy to court today, but that I had no idea it was a silly-looking one. As for the story of Master Hawking’s nephew, although I had no knowledge of it before now, I do not doubt it.”