The station was busy, but his visit did not get off to a good start.
“State your business,” a cop behind a desk brusquely ordered.
“I’m here to see Martin Fuller.”
“Who’s that?”
“He was arrested last night.”
The cop referred to a long list of names, checked it all the way through line by line and then turned back to Theodore. “No Martin Fuller.”
“I don’t understand. I asked one of the officers where they were taking him. He told me this station.”
“Can’t help you, kid. No Martin Fuller. The closest I’ve got is a Marty Fulton.”
“Could be a misspelling. Can I check to see if that’s the man I’m after?”
The cop laughed at him. “That’s not the way it works, kid.”
“How do I find my friend?”
“Where was he arrested?”
“Ariston Baths,” Theodore said.
“What the hell are you doing being friends with someone like the perverts that hang out there, kid? Don’t you know no better? Those men are animals. They’ll prey on you in a heartbeat. The only way we’re safe is they’re all locked away somewhere.”
Theodore was thrown completely by this turn.
“He’s my childhood best friend. We grew up together. He’s lived here for years. I just arrived, so I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry. I know I appear to be some hick from the backwoods. Basically I suppose I am.”
“Steer clear of them deviants, kid. They’re bad news.”
“I can’t turn my back on my friend. I need to find out what happened. I need to find out if he’s okay. I’ve got to hire a lawyer, but I don’t have a clue how to do that.” Theodore was terribly close to losing it, and he just hoped that it didn’t show.
“Calm down, kid. Don’t go falling apart.” The cop looked left and then right before continuing. “All right, I could get in trouble doing this, but you look like a good kid, so I’m gonna take you back there. But you can’t say a single word,” he ordered Theodore very harshly. “Those men are all going through bail hearings. You can go back, but you have to stand off to the side, and you absolutely have to keep your mouth shut. You cannot interrupt the proceedings. Can you promise me that you can do that? If not, you’re just going to have to leave and go back home. If you go back there and say even one word, you’ll be arrested for disrupting court proceedings. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir, I understand. I promise I’ll do exactly what you’ve just ordered me to do,” Theodore told him as earnestly as he could.
“I could get into trouble doing this, kid. If you let me down and show me that I’ve misread you, I’ll be mighty angry with you. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir. I understand. I appreciate the help, and I promise to not cause any trouble. I don’t think I’d even know how. My daddy wouldn’t have tolerated that, so I never learned how.”
“Okay. Come on. Follow me and keep your fucking mouth shut.”
“Yes, sir.”
The cop stood, turning out to be much shorter than Theodore would have guessed. Theodore followed him through the room, down a hallway, through a door, and into another room. He gestured for Theodore to move to the left once through the door. He grabbed Theodore’s arm unexpectedly to stop him, pointing instead to a chair that someone else was just vacating. Theodore moved immediately to the chair and sat, trying to be as inconspicuous and problem-free as possible.
An average-looking man was seated at a table toward the front of the room. Theodore’s quick evaluation was that he was very full of himself. He had timed it perfectly since it appeared that the proceedings were just getting started.
Theodore watched as a man he recognized from the previous night was brought forward, his hands still restrained with cuffs and chains.
“State your name for the record,” the presiding man ordered.
“John Bagley.”
“And your address, Mr. Bagley?”
“Kingston, Long Island, sir.”
“Mr. Bagley, there are two charges against you. The first is for running a disorderly house, and the second is for selling liquor without a license. This case is different than the bulk of the cases before us today, so I’m going to hold this over for examination tomorrow morning so we can focus on the most offensive cases first. Mr. Bagley, I am setting bail at $1,000 on each charge.”
Theodore remembered that this was the man who had been behind the counter when he and Martin had first arrived at the bathhouse.
Cops led Bagley away. He looked exhausted, so Theodore was guessing that the night had been difficult for the prisoners.
“Who is next?” the presiding official called out.
“Magistrate Pool, the next prisoner is the most troublesome of all the cases you’ll hear today.”
“Why is that?” he asked, looking at the officer.
“This prisoner was observed by multiple officers engaged in carnal, unnatural, and abhorrent acts with nine different men.”
“Good Lord,” Magistrate Pool uttered loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Let’s get this disgusting matter over with.”
The prisoner was again someone Theodore recognized from the baths.
“State your name,” Pool bellowed, without looking directly at the man.
“John Rogers, sir,” the man answered, with a distinct accent.
“Where are you from?” Pool demanded.
“Ireland, sir.”
“You came to our country, we took you in, and this is how you repay the American people? By bringing your perversion to our shores?”
Rogers just stared at Pool. Theodore didn’t know what he would have said if their places were reversed and he was standing in front of the magistrate.
Finally Pool just resumed speaking. “Mr. Rogers, you are charged with nine counts of committing sodomy. It is my responsibility to protect the people of this city from creatures such as you. Consequently, I am setting your bail at $5,000.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Rogers said, looking confused.
“It means we’re locking you up,” a cop said as he shoved Rogers toward another door out of the room.
Theodore watched with increasing dismay as man after man was brought to stand before the magistrate, each on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing from Pool, who appeared to view the idea of two men having sex together as the worst sin ever conceived. In each case, the magistrate appeared to presume guilt rather than the American standard of a person being presumed innocent until proven guilty. Theodore wanted to stand and demand of the man who called himself a magistrate if he had ever heard of the presumption of innocence over guilt.
When Martin was brought in, Theodore’s breath caught, and for a moment he felt panic that he couldn’t breathe.
“Name,” Pool called out without looking up from the table surface where he was writing something.
“Marty Fulton,” Martin answered.
Theodore was confused. He had never heard of “Marty Fulton,” but when he took just a moment to consider the situation, he could understand why Martin would use a fake name.
“Address?”
As with the name, Martin supplied an address Theodore had never heard of.
“Read the charges against this man,” Pool ordered.
“Fulton is charged with committing the detestable and abominable crime against nature of having carnal knowledge of deponent’s body.”
Theodore didn’t even know what that meant. Fortunately, Pool clarified for the record.
“You are charged with committing a despicable crime against nature with another man in plain view of two officers. You are clearly guilty.”
“I am not,” Martin protested.
“What’s that?” the magistrate demanded, finally looking up at Martin.
“I said I am not guilty.”
“That’s not possible. You were observed by multiple officers. Those men do not lie. You are guilty.�
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“I am not guilty. I am innocent. I did no such thing,” Martin protested.
Pool shook his head and muttered something that Theodore could not make out.
“Bail set at $2,000. Looks like we waste more time with another trial where we already know the facts and the verdict. Next case,” he ordered loudly.
Martin never lifted his gaze from his feet as he shuffled out of the room. Theodore cringed when the cop shoved Martin because he wasn’t moving fast enough. He feared Martin was going to fall flat on his face. Had that happened, Theodore didn’t think he’d be able to keep his promise to the officer at the front desk. But thankfully, Martin did not fall.
A couple of the men who were brought before Pool were actually released, but the vast majority were held over for trial with bail set so high that no common person could ever hope to come up with that much money. Two thousand dollars—that was a lifetime of savings for any ordinary man, Theodore reflected.
Two men who came next were fined five dollars each. When they indicated that they could pay the fine, they were unlocked and escorted to another door out of the room.
When the proceedings were finished, Theodore left, making sure to thank the man at the front desk, which earned him a curt nod.
“Do you know what happens next?” Theodore asked.
“Was bail set?”
“Yes, $2,000.”
“You got it?”
“No.”
“He’ll be moved to the Tombs where he’ll stay until trial.”
“What is this tomb you speak of?” Theodore asked.
“Not a tomb, the Tombs. It’s the city prison where we lock up animals like that lot.”
“Where is it located?” Theodore asked.
“Lower Manhattan along Centre Street and bounded by White, Elm, and Leonard Streets.”
“Thank you again. I cannot thank you enough for your kindness to me.”
Theodore was at a loss as to what he should do or could do.
ON MONDAY morning, he woke early and headed to the office. On his way to work, he bought a copy of a local newspaper and was absolutely horrified to see coverage of the bathhouse raid on the front page of that newspaper.
Stopping in his tracks when he saw the headline, he read “Scores of Perverts Arrested.” Theodore very nearly collapsed on the spot. It was only when someone shouted at him to get out of the way that Theodore moved to one side so he could continue to read the report.
“Following a week of investigations coordinated by Inspector Walsh and Captain Schmittberger of the West Forty-Seventh Street Station, in whose precinct the arrests occurred, at approximately one forty-five yesterday morning, numerous uniformed officers and city detectives descended upon a cesspool of despicable conduct by some of the most base men of our society. Approximately seventy-eight men were detained at a Russian and Turkish Bathhouse located in the basement of the Ariston.”
Chapter Sixteen—Verdict
WHILE MARTIN sat in a cell in the Tombs awaiting his trial, Theodore lived only one step removed from panic most of the time. Theodore made the trek across downtown to the Tombs to visit Martin.
“State your business,” the officer demanded when Theodore tried to gain entrance to the jail.
“I’m here to see Martin, er, Marty Fulton.”
“Who’s he?” the officer asked without bothering to look up at Theodore.
“He’s been arrested—”
“Got to go to the local station where he was arrested.”
“I’ve already done that,” Theodore told him, his patience wearing thin. But he knew he needed to maintain his composure, so he carefully suppressed his desire to tell the man to simply do his job. “They sent me here.”
“Visiting hours are over,” the officer told him, still not tearing his gaze from his open newspaper arrayed on the desk in front of him.
Theodore thanked him, even though he wanted to do nothing of the kind, and departed, overwhelmed with a sense of the injustice of the entire situation. It was bad enough that Martin had been arrested, but now for the police to keep him from even seeing his best friend, this just made him so angry he wanted to swear—out loud.
Had he known how the game was played, he would have gotten to see Martin sooner than he did. Theodore had failed because he didn’t realize the guard wanted a bribe.
At least he had been able to locate an attorney for Martin, and that man had gotten in to see his client so he could begin to work with Martin on a strategy for his upcoming trial. The lawyer had also explained the “rules” to Theodore, so he knew how to get in to see Martin.
When the trials started, Theodore wanted to attend every minute to see Martin win his freedom, but he needed to work. He needed his salary more then than he ever had before, because he needed cash to cover the cost of living in the expensive city and to pay for Martin’s legal representation.
While he was not proud of himself for doing so, when his boss was out of town for two weeks to tend to business in another city, Theodore snuck out of the office several times to sit in on the trial. Day after day, the trial judge demonstrated as much disregard for men like Martin and Theodore as the magistrate had back in February at the time of his arrest. Once again there seemed to be a presumption of guilt rather than of innocence.
Over and over again, as Theodore sat in the courtroom and listened to the attorneys interview potential jurors, he heard the prosecutor call what Martin had done by any number of vile and despicable names. He seemed to go out of his way to present the idea that Martin was guilty even before the jury was selected and the trial had started.
Theodore wanted to jump from his seat and rant at the prosecutor. But he bit his tongue, clenched his fists and kept his mouth shut.
He kept noticing one man who looked vaguely familiar. He could not recall where he had seen the man until suddenly one day after sitting in the courtroom listening to the proceedings and becoming increasingly frustrated, he left the courtroom and ran into the familiar stranger at the elevators.
“Which one is yours?” the stranger asked him softly.
“Excuse me?” Theodore asked. His mind had been a million miles away.
“I said, which one is yours?”
“How do I know you?” Theodore said.
“You were there that night. I saw you.”
“That’s it!” Theodore said. “I’ve been trying to recall why I recognized you.”
“It was dark in most of the rooms, deliberately, so you frequently can’t see the other people clearly. I assume you’re here every day because one of the guys on trial is your friend.”
“Yes,” Theodore said with a sigh. They stood off to the side of the busy hallway with people coming and going. Both were trying to be careful to keep their voices low, but the noise from the foot traffic and conversations all around them made a whispered conversation difficult.
“Can we get out of here and… I don’t know. Go for a walk? Get a drink? Something? Anything? I have so many things to say, but no one I can say them to.” The man was practically pleading.
There was no way Theodore could refuse him. And, in point of fact, he had just as many things to say. He knew this was a potentially risky move, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Due to the hour—after lunch but before the dinner rush—the restaurant they went to was very quiet, which suited them and their needs perfectly.
“I’m Theodore, by the way,” Theodore said, extending his hand to the stranger.
“Joel. Pleased to meet you, Theodore. I just wish it could be under better circumstances.”
“I as well. Which one of them is yours?” Theodore asked, turning Joel’s earlier question around. Neither of them could say anything directly until they knew more about each other. Theodore knew that even spaces at one time viewed as safe really were not so.
“The fourth one in line when they’re led into the courtroom each time. You?”
“The second one. Are you two… l
ong-term friends?”
“Not really. We’ve only known each other for about a year. I always urged him to be more careful, but he had a special fondness for the baths.”
Theodore snickered; it was not a sound of amusement, but of quiet resignation. “Mine as well,” he said softly. “I cannot count how many times I’ve cautioned him about some risky behavior that I… well, that I wouldn’t do.”
Joel shook his head in sadness. “What do you think is going to happen?”
“You mean from the trial?”
“Yes.”
“I fear that they are all going to be sent to prison.”
Joel visibly winced in pain. He shook his head once again. “Prison?” he whispered. “Can you imagine how they will be treated in prison?”
Theodore didn’t like to think about that, but he had, and he did not like the things he could imagine.
“Do you think the other prisoners will find out about the… the crime that sent them there?” Joel asked.
Theodore couldn’t meet his eye, but quietly said, “Yes. In fact, I’m sure the guards will make it common knowledge.”
“But that will put them more at risk… or….”
“Yes, it will, which I’m sure the guards will not see as a problem.”
Theodore paused, his eyes closed, gathering his thoughts before he spoke again. “I truly don’t understand. I always trusted the officers and our legal system. Until this happened. Now I see them as the enemy. They are the hunters… and we are the hunted.
“Who has been harmed? No one that I can see. They were simply doing what was natural for them—for us. And for that they were arrested, locked up like animals, and are now most likely headed to prison. All for a crime that baffles me.”
Joel nodded, tears in his eyes.
“I truly do not understand why so many people find who we are to be so offensive. None of them are in the slightest way injured by the fact that we exist. So I don’t understand why any of this had to happen.
“Speaking personally, I did not wake up one morning and suddenly decide to find men attractive and desirable. It just is a part of who I am. It is not something I sought out. It has just always been there, a part of me. It’s the same as my brothers who were all anxious to be with women. They were simply being who they were born to be. Why should what they are be more legitimate than what I am?”
A Night at the Ariston Baths Page 12