“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 by 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 content 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 to 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 su
fficiently 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.
An American Tragedy Page 80