She admitted that she had concocted a plot to tie up Gordie and kidnap him for a few days, until he came to his senses.
She admitted mothering Bomba the Jungle Boy, but all he ever did for her was wash some windows.
She admitted meeting Juan Barrajas quite by accident. She and Mrs. Lister had been looking for a place to eat. Mr. Barrajas had been standing at the doorway to his establishment and said, “Aren’t you Gordon Wynn’s mother?” Next thing she knew, she was the victim of extortion.
She admitted having no love for Maria but denied wanting to harm her.
She simply could not understand, she said, why all those people on the witness stand told lies about her.
When it came time for Ferguson to cross-examine her, he stood very close to her and looked right into her eyes. She looked right back at him, unflinching.
“As I understand it,” he said, “you did not really dislike Maria, but you disapproved of Gordie marrying anyone, isn’t that right?”
“At that time, yes,” she said. “He was going to night school and still had a long way to go. He was in no position to get married.”
“In other words, you didn’t want Gordie married at that time to anyone?”
“Not at that time I didn’t.”
“And was your reason for that a concern for Gordie’s future?”
“It was.”
“You believed that Gordie could not support a wife and child?”
“No, not if he was to support me and go to school too.”
“Is that why you told people that the baby Maria was carrying was not Gordie’s?”
Gordon Wynn stood up in the audience and shouted, “Mr. Ferguson, my name is Gordon, not Gordie.”
“Your honor,” said Ferguson, “I ask that this man be ejected.”
“You sit down please and keep quiet,” the court warned Gordon.
“Well, he’s right, your honor,” said Ginny.
Sally Ryan stood and said, “Will the court request Mr. Ferguson to call the defendant’s son ‘Gordon’ or ‘Mr. Wynn’?”
“Your honor,” said Ferguson, “testimony shows that this witness calls him ‘Gordie’ more often than ‘Gordon.’ I have a perfect right to call him ‘Gordie.’”
“You can have some respect for him,” said Sally Ryan.
“Why?” asked the district attorney.
Sally Ryan usually had a ready answer for everything.
He continued to call him “Gordie” throughout the trial. So did the public.
“Continue,” the court demanded.
Ferguson turned back to Ginny and said, as though he had no real interest in the question, “Now, is it true that Gordie, your son, has lived with you all his life?”
“Yes.”
“And he lived with you while you were married to James Powell?”
“James Powell?”
“Did Gordon Wynn live with you while you were married to James Powell?”
“What do you mean? I never lived with James Powell.”
“Perhaps not, but did your son...”
“What does that have to do with it?”
The judge said, “Answer the question.”
“I certainly have a right to know what he’s driving at,” said Ginny Wynn.
“Just answer the questions,” said the judge.
“Did Gordie also continue to live with you while you were married to Clyde Smith?”
Sally Ryan rose and said, “We are going to object to that as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial.”
“What’s he doing?” asked Ginny Wynn.
“She told you,” said Sally Ryan, “that Gordon Wynn has lived with her all his life. These questions are asked only to prejudice this jury.”
“And to humiliate my son,” added Ginny Wynn.
“The questions are incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial,” said Sally Ryan.
“And humiliating,” said Ginny Wynn.
“The objection is overruled,” said the judge.
“He has always lived with me,” said Ginny Wynn. “He always will.”
“Don’t be too sure,” said Ferguson.
“Your honor,” said Sally Ryan, “the district attorney is taunting the witness.”
“Mr. District Attorney?”
“I’m sorry, your honor. Mrs. Wynn, during all the time you were married to...”
“I told you!” she shouted.
“...young Sam Leonard...”
“I told you!”
Sally Ryan rose again and said, “We are going to object to that upon the ground that it is incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial, upon the further ground that it is an appeal to the prejudice of the jury, and upon the further ground that the question has been asked and answered.”
Ferguson said, “I think I have a right to show that there was a peculiarly close relationship between mother and son in this instance. Despite the fact that the defendant was married to other persons at the time when her son was a grown man, she continued to live with her son rather than with her husbands. It would follow that her son, having married, would prefer to live with her rather than with his wife.”
The judge asked, “What is the question that now is objected to?”
Ferguson answered, “The question that is specifically objected to by Miss Ryan is whether Mr. Gordie Wynn, the defendant’s SOH, continued to live with her during her marriage to young Sam Leonard.”
“Why do you have to keep calling him young Sam Leonard?” said Ginny in a loud, angry voice.
“He was, I believe, about your son’s age.”
“She has stated he lived with her all his life,” said the judge. “That is sufficient.”
“All right,” said Ferguson, “I will withdraw that and ask another question. Gordie lived with you all his life, but when you married Samuel Leonard, Mr. Leonard did not live with you and Gordie, did he?”
“Objection,” said Sally Ryan.
“The objection is sustained,” said the judge.
“All right,” said Ferguson, secure that the points had already been made. “Mrs. Wynn, you and Gordie occupy the same apartment, do you not?”
“We do.”
“How many bedrooms are in this apartment?”
“One.”
“And how many beds?”
“One.”
“Isn’t it true that you and Gordie share that bed together?”
“Absolutely not!”
Muted ripples of laughter spread through the audience.
“I’m on trial for my life!” Ginny yelled at the audience.
“Where does Gordie sleep, then?” asked the DA, as though she had never shouted.
Ginny grew angry and snapped at him, “Don’t stand on top of me like that!”
Ferguson walked to the far end of the jury box.
“That’s better,” she said.
“I believe it is,” said Ferguson.
Ginny took a deep breath and said, “You tried to trick me. I know what you’re doing. Well, we have a sofa bed in our place, a sofa that opens up. That’s where Gordie sleeps. You’re disgusting!”
“Just answer the questions, Mrs. Wynn,” cautioned the judge.
“Did you buy Gordie’s clothes for him?” asked Ferguson.
She raised five fingers into the air.
“Selected the clothes he would wear?” asked the DA.
Again, she raised the five fingers.
“Would you mind explaining yourself?”
“Fifth Amendment,” said Ginny, quite calmly.
It seemed all her life she had wanted to do that.
Exasperated, Ferguson requested the court to order her to answer, which it did. Sally Ryan also told her that she would have to answer the questions.
“Of course, I shopped for him,” she said at last, “just like any other mother would.”
The questioning of Ginny Wynn took three days. When it seemed no more could be learned from her, Ferguson said, “Well, let me ask you one m
ore question. Maybe you can answer this simple question with a yes or no.”
“Shoot.”
“Pardon?”
“Ask your question.”
“On the eve of Maria’s murder, was there anything you wanted more than the death of your daughter-in-law?”
Ginny thought about it. She could find no way to answer that question.
“Yes or no,” prompted the district attorney.
She held up five fingers.
The district attorney turned to the jury, sighed, and said, “That is all.”
TEN
Gordon testified to his mother’s pathological fear of being left alone. That is why she always had Mrs. Lister around, why she took in Bomba the Jungle Boy, why she couldn’t stand to see Gordon marry and move out. He knew she would rather be dead than alone.
Sally Ryan walked closer to the witness stand to ask, “Was that why you kept your wedding a secret?”
“Yes.”
“And when did you finally tell her?”
“The next night, after the wedding. I don’t remember if I told her or if she already knew. Anyway, she was hysterical.”
Hysterical? thought Beef; she threw the pieces of your baby pictures in your face.
“Nothing I could say could console her. I left her there and returned to my wife.”
When me and Mrs. Lister came rolling out of the closet, thought Beef.
“Tell the jury why you continued to reside, part-time, with your mother during your marriage.”
“I loved my mother.” There was a gasp in the audience. “And I loved my wife.”
“Then why did you leave her on your wedding night to run home to Mother?” asked Ralph Ferguson when he had his turn at Gordon.
“I did not leave Maria on our wedding night and I did not run home to Mother.”
“You stayed with your wife all night?”
“On the night of our wedding, yes.”
Clearly, Ralph Ferguson did not believe him. He paced for a moment and then asked, “You said that your mother was afraid of being alone; is that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was she also afraid of the dark?”
“Occasionally.”
“And would you go to her on those occasions?”
“To which we object on the ground it is incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial,” said Miss Ryan.
“Your honor, I intend to show that an unusually powerful bond exists between this witness and his mother.”
“Your honor, it is perfectly clear to everyone in this courtroom what the district attorney is trying to show. It Might be well to remind him that this is no place for sleazy innuendoes.”
“Objection overruled.”
“The question was,” said Ferguson, “on those occasions when your mother was afraid of the dark, did you go to her?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Did you leave your bed and go to her?”
“For a moment perhaps, till she got over her fear or nightmare or whatever.”
Beef sat in the audience and wondered what difference it made.
The testimony of the psychiatrist Sally Ryan had engaged to examine Ginny was anticlimactic. He diagnosed her as a sociopathic personality disturbance, anti-social reaction.
Beef respected the man for his wisdom. It was the line of work he would like for himself, given the necessary intelligence. Yet Ferguson, in his cross-examination, seemed to regard him as moronic.
“You are familiar, Doctor, are you not, with the Diagnostical and Statistical Manual on Mental Disorders published by the American Psychiatric Association?”
“Yes.”
“And in it a sociopathic personality is defined as ‘chronically anti-social individuals who are always in trouble, profiting neither from experience nor punishment, and maintaining no real loyalty to any person, group or code. They are frequently callous and hedonistic, showing marked emotional immaturity with lack of sense of responsibility, lack of judgment, and an ability to rationalize their behavior so that it appears warranted, reasonable and justified.’”
It rang a bell with Beef. He used to be one.
“Now, Doctor, does that describe a sociopath?”
“Yes, that is a fair description of the classification,” said the psychiatrist.
“And isn’t it true, Doctor, that most criminals fall under this category of disorder?”
“Well, yes, it does generally work out that most criminals are sociopaths.”
“So what this term describes, Doctor, is a mean, wicked person who commits criminal acts, does it not? A person who doesn’t profit from punishment or experience? Isn’t ‘sociopathic personality’ a fancy name for plain old-fashioned meanness?”
“I believe that’s an oversimplification.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do,” said the psychiatrist.
“I don’t,” said Ferguson. “That is all.”
Mrs. Lister was recalled to the witness stand. She looked tired. Soon it would all be over, and she would be without the trial and Ginny both. It would be back to the rec center for her, and perhaps one more small wave of attention and then everyone would forget about her and dullness would settle over her again.
“Mrs. Lister, did you ever call upon Mrs. Wynn in her apartment early in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever see Gordie in bed as Mrs. Wynn discussed him?”
“Yes.”
Here we go again, thought Beef.
Sally Ryan stood quickly and said, “We object to that as incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial.”
“What is the relevance of his being in bed, Mr. District Attorney?” asked the court.
“I am trying to establish the exact time of this witness’s conversation with the defendant”
“Objection overruled.”
“I had called on Mrs. Wynn early one morning,” said Mrs. Lister. “Gordie was still in bed in the living room. I was afraid of waking him up.”
“What did Mrs. Wynn say?”
“She said, ‘Isn’t he beautiful? Couldn’t you just eat him?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Lister, that will be all.”
She was helped off the witness stand by the bailiff and ushered to her seat in the audience. Ginny glared at her, as she did at all the witnesses for the People. Just beyond the railing Mrs. Lister stopped, leaned forward on her bamboo cane, and squinted at Beef, who lowered his head.
“Oh, my,” she said. “It’s Bomba the Jungle Boy. How are you, Bomba? You look so different.”
All eyes turned to Beef Buddusky, who involuntarily slid down in his seat and said softly, “Hyuh, Mrs. Lister.”
The photographers were the first to come to their senses. They jumped over benches, railings, and each other to get a good shot of Bomba the Jungle Boy, who had to cover his eyes from the striking light of their flashbulbs.
The judge beat his gavel futilely for order. Finally Ralph Ferguson ordered a bailiff to place Beef under arrest.
Ginny turned to her attorney and said, “It doesn’t rain but that it pours.” Court was adjourned for the day.
ELEVEN
After Beef’s first day of testimony, in which he truthfully answered the DA’s questions, his picture was once again in all the papers and on TV. The woman with swollen feet who had given him coffee in the corridor was interviewed and her life was now complete. The local honkytonk people could only sputter at the strange twist of events. The small weasel-like man told everyone how he had recently thrown Beef out of a local bar, though no one believed him and he became bitter and frustrated. Deputy Sheriff Moran would tell no one that he had shaken Beef’s hand.
Beef’s cross-examination was brief.
“Mr. Buddusky, have you ever been convicted of a felony?”
“I have, ma’am.”
“What felony?”
“Grand theft, auto.”
“Any other felony?”
“No, ma
’am, only the one that I’m up for now.”
Beef put his hands together and leaned forward.
“That is the felony you pled guilty to in the Superior Court of this county?”
“That’s right, ma’am.”
“What felony was that?”
“Perjury, ma’am.”
“You haven’t been sentenced on that charge yet?”
“No, ma’am, I have not.”
“That’s all.”
He was called on redirect to explain that no promises were made to him regarding his perjury charge. He was also questioned further on the one direct proposal to him to commit murder.
“Well, first she asked me if I’d like to earn three thousand dollars. I said sure. Then she said she wanted me to get rid of Maria.”
“And what did you say to that?”
“I didn’t believe she was serious. I told her if I thought she was, why, I would have to go away. Listen, I heard lots of people say they was going to kill someone, when they was mad at ‘em. Ain’t you?”
“What did she say?”
“I told her to keep quiet. We were having dinner in a place and I didn’t want people to hear her. Thing is, I liked Mrs. Wynn. She was good to me. I didn’t want any trouble and I didn’t want nobody in any trouble. I figured she was just shooting off her mouth. She was like a mother to me.”
“What happened then?”
“I got mad and walked out of the place. She and Mrs. Lister caught up with me and told me to forget the whole thing. And I did.”
On recross-examination Sally Ryan asked him if he believed Mrs. Wynn really wanted to murder her daughter-in-law.
“How can anybody believe that? No, I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t know what to believe.”
“You said you wanted absolutely nothing to do with it?”
“Nothing. I didn’t even want to hear about it.”
“Yet you believed she was serious about it?”
“I did and I didn’t. To this day! don’t know what to believe. Even though it finally happened there’s no really convincing me she was serious. She was a lady mad because her son went off and got married on her. So naturally she talked about how she’d like to kill the girl. I don’t think she knows herself if she was serious.”
The Accomplice: The Stairway Press Edition Page 19