by Kate Wilhelm
“I’m sorry,” Barbara said. “Paula, you’ve come through this much. Don’t break now. It won’t get any worse than today.”
THIRTEEN
Today Emma Tidball was dressed in a dark blue polyester suit with a white blouse and a strand of large pearls. Her face was as wrinkled as Barbara remembered.
Gerald Fierst asked her to describe the Canby Ranch, what it was used for, and her position there, and she did so in a rambling way that took a long time.
Fierst finally stopped the flow and asked, “Will you just tell us what you remember about the morning of Saturday, April nineteenth?”
“Angela—that’s Angela Everts—she called at about nine-thirty and said the mushrooms were up thick and did we all want to go get some, and I said sure, it would be good for everyone to get out in the woods for a time. You know, we had all that rain, and finally the sun was out and it was nice and warm. But Paula didn’t want to go out, and Lori wasn’t feeling good. Poor little thing, she said her stomach hurt, but I told Paula it would be good for them to go out for some air, and that Lori wouldn’t be so afraid as soon as she saw that her mother wasn’t so afraid, so Paula said they’d go. At the last minute Lori said she had to go to the bathroom, and Angela said why didn’t I go on ahead with everyone else since I knew as well as her where the mushrooms were, and she’d wait, her and Annie, that’s Angela’s girl. And Fern, one of the other little girls, said she wanted to wait for Annie, and that seemed all right, so that’s what we did.”
“Where were you when the fire started?”
“Off nearly to the other logging road, half a mile maybe.”
“Did you hear the explosion?”
“We heard something, but we didn’t know what it was. And then Angela was screaming, closer by, that it was a fire, and we all hurried back.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, Angela got there first, and when I came up she was holding Paula back from going in the house. And she yelled for me to hold her and she would call the fire department, and she got in her car and raced off, and me and one of the others held Paula.”
“It took two of you to hold her?”
“Yes, it did. She was fighting to go back in, screaming, crying, pulling. Out of her head.”
“Mrs. Tidball, you said there were four women and their children at the ranch, and then Angela Everts and her child came. Did you see anyone else at the ranch that morning?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You said that Mrs. Kennerman was irrational when you arrived at the scene of the fire. Was she irrational before that? In the morning before you left the house?”
“I said she was out of her mind. Which she was. Screaming and yelling.”
“Earlier that morning how did she appear?”
“Like before, scared out of her wits, and hurting.”
“But not out of her mind?” He didn’t smile, but Emma Tidball stiffened as if she heard a smile behind the words.
“She was quiet, but as sane as you or me.”
“Thank you,” Fierst said.
Barbara stood up and approached the witness stand. “Had you been working at the ranch from the time it opened for women?”
“Yes, from the very first day.”
“And was there any resistance from neighbors about opening the ranch for troubled women?”
“Objection,” Fierst said. “Irrelevant.”
“No, it isn’t,” Barbara said. “There could be a number of people who might have wanted the ranch put out of business one way or another.”
Judge Paltz nodded. “Overruled.”
Emma described the times that Dodgson had objected, and how Mrs. Canby had handled them all. “Except I never told her that him and Craig came over that time yelling about abortions.”
“So he seemed to know who was there and what was going on much of the time?”
“He knew everything going on there, and he didn’t like any of it,” Emma said, her wrinkles deepening in a scowl.
“Did anyone else cause you any trouble?”
“No. Only them, the Dodgsons.”
“Mrs. Tidball, did you give Paula Kennerman a tour of the property on Friday?”
“No. I offered to, but she didn’t want to go outside. They stayed in their room most of the day.”
“You observed Paula and Lori together Thursday night, on Friday, and Saturday morning. Could you describe how they acted with each other?”
Mrs. Tidball did at length; a frightened child clinging to her mother, and a mother who never took her eyes off the child, who paled at a touch, but held her. One of the women in the jury was wiping her eyes when Mrs. Tidball finished and sat back in her chair.
“When she was fighting so hard when you held her, Mrs. Tidball, what was she screaming?”
“Let me go. She’s in there. Let me go. I have to find her. Things like that. Like she thought if she could get back in the house, she could save her baby.”
“That Saturday morning, were you inside all the time until you left to gather mushrooms?”
“Yes, every minute.”
“And when you left the house, did you go straight across the property to the woods?”
“Well, yes. We wanted to get at the mushrooms.”
“Did you happen to glance back at the house at all?”
“No. We went straight to the woods and the trail.”
“T hank you, Mrs. Tidball,” Barbara said.
“This is hellish,” Barbara grumbled at lunch with Frank. They were in a small room that held a desk and two straight chairs, and now had a table set up with a tablecloth. Someone from the office had brought in sandwiches, a thermos of coffee, and a basket of fruit. Barbara regarded the food with distaste and crossed the room to pull open a blind. The room overlooked the skyway across Pearl Street and the state and federal buildings on the other side. The sun was shining. People were in summery clothes. She saw two people coming toward the courthouse and she let the blind close. Them. She felt as if she were in jail.
“What’s happening out on the street?” she asked.
“They’re picketing,” Frank said amiably. He unwrapped a sandwich. “Ah, good. Liverwurst and onions. Too bad you can’t eat onions.”
“That’s disgusting.”
She sat opposite him, glowering. What she needed to do was walk, not eat. She always walked during the lunch recess. She picked up the other sandwich—roast beef—and took a bite.
“It’s going about like I expected,” Frank said after a moment. “Not bad so far.”
She put down the sandwich and went back to the window. They were walking away from her. She hoped their legs fell off at the hips. “At least no one’s fighting,” she said, returning to the table, where she poured coffee.
“Not yet. Wait until you go haring off after the Dodgson crew.”
She put down her cup and went to the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
It did not surprise her that Frank did not object. He knew she needed to walk as well as she did. He always had walked during the lunch recess. He nodded and rewrapped her sandwich, and recapped the thermos.
Compared to Emma Tidball, Angela Everts was taciturn. She identified herself, described her employment at the Canby house, and added not a word beyond what was required. Gerald Fierst had her tell about the morning she had gone there to pick mushrooms, and the following events, and was finished with her very quickly.
When Barbara stood up for her turn, she produced her aerial map and had it introduced as an exhibit. It was very clear, two feet by three, and showed the Canby property, the Dodgson acres, and across the road from them the orchard and Gallead’s firing range. Enough of the forest behind the properties was on the map to make that part complete. Farleigh Road made a definitive boundary, with Carrie Voight’s house across the road at the bottom of the map. She stood an easel where the jury and Judge Paltz could see it and placed the map on it.
Pointing with a pen, she asked, “Is
this the private road to the Canby house?” Angela said it was. “And where did you meet Mrs. Dodgson on the road?” She traced the road until Angela said that was it, right about there. Barbara drew a red circle midway between the Dodgson gate and the road entrance.
“You were previously acquainted with Mrs. Dodgson?”
“I used to work for her.”
“Was she facing you when you saw her?”
“She was walking in my direction.”
“You told us earlier that you offered to bring her some chanterelles. What else did you talk about?”
“She asked me if the new girl, the sick girl, was well enough to go out in the woods.”
“She knew there was a new woman at the ranch already?”
“She knew, and she knew there was another child there, too.”
“Was she pleasant to you and Annie that morning?”
Angela’s lips tightened a fraction. “She didn’t see Annie. Annie was looking for something on the floor in the backseat. She was pleasant enough to me.”
“Did you happen to notice what time it was when you stopped to talk to Mrs. Dodgson?”
“Ten-thirty. I told Emma I’d be there at ten-thirty and I would have been if I didn’t stop first.”
“All right. They were waiting for you at the Canby house. Did you leave right away?”
“No. It was about ten minutes after I got there that I told Emma to go ahead and we’d catch up. We waited a few minutes and then Paula and me started. She stopped at the woods and leaned against a tree. I went on ahead of her. But I got uneasy about leaving her and the three little girls, and I went back just about when Annie came running out and said something to Paula and Fern called her, and she went tearing off to see what Fern was up to.”
“Mrs. Everts, could you point to where Paula Kennerman stopped? Where you were when Annie came out again?”
She looked hesitant and moistened her lips. “I just don’t know for sure.”
“Try. For instance, this is the house. You have reached the woods with Paula Kennerman. Where?”
With great reluctance Angela left the witness stand to approach the map on the easel. “We come out this way,” she mumbled after studying the map for a second or two. “Fern, she went off up this way, to the apple tree. And I went this way, along the edge of the woods, sort of waiting for the girls to come along.”
“Then you saw Annie running toward Paula Kennerman. Where were you when you saw her?”
“I don’t know.”
“How far away do you suppose you were? As far as from here to the back of the courtroom?”
“More. Oh, I know. Just about even with the end of the garden. That’s right.” She put her finger on the map.
Barbara drew a small red circle.
“From that spot you couldn’t see the house or the driveway, could you? Wasn’t there too much shrubbery?”
“Yes, there was. I saw Annie after she got past the bushes.”
“And looking that way, you would have seen the barn but not the woods beyond it. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Everts. You may sit down again.” She waited until Angela was back on the witness stand. “So you were here, and Annie ran out. Did you go to her right away?”
“I waited a little, not much. Then I started to walk to them.”
“Where were you when Annie reached Paula?”
“I don’t know,” she said, almost in anguish. “Annie was running. She runs like a deer. And Fern yelled at her, and she ran off that way by the time I got to Paula.”
“Did you hear what Annie told Paula?”
“I thought I did,” she mumbled, “but I just don’t know.”
“Were you as far from them as from here to the back of the courtroom?”
“No. Maybe almost that far. I don’t know.”
“Was Annie facing you?”
“No. She was looking at Paula and then at the apple tree. Fern was yelling to her.”
“I see. So she came out and said something, and at the same time the other little girl was calling her. Was Annie yelling?”
“No. Fern was yelling. And Mr. Dodgson was revving up his mowing machine something awful. He was stuck in the marsh.”
“So it would have been very difficult for you to hear what Annie told Paula?”
“It would have been hard.”
“When you reached Paula Kennerman, where was Annie?”
“At the apple tree with Fern.”
Barbara put her finger there on the map. “And what did Paula say?”
“She said Lori was sleeping, but she didn’t want her to wake up alone in a strange house and maybe she should go back, and after a minute she started to go back.”
“And where did you go?”
“Over to the girls at the tree. And Annie said Lori fell asleep watching television and she didn’t want to stay in the house with her. I told them since Lori’s mother would be with her they could come with me if they wanted to, but they didn’t, and I started through the woods.”
“Did you look back at Paula or the house after that?”
“No, I just went into the woods and headed down toward Emma and the others.” She paused, then added without prompting, “And in just a second Annie yelled that they were coming, too, so I slowed down and waited for them, and we all went on together.”
Barbara nodded at her reassuringly. “When you reached the house after the explosion, what exactly was Paula doing?”
“Well, she was on the ground, sort of on her hands and knees, dragging herself, sort of. I helped her get up and she tried to pull away and go to the house, but it was blazing everywhere and I held her.”
“Was she fighting you?”
“No. She was sort of dazed and real wobbly. She couldn’t hardly stand up alone, but she kept pulling.”
“Now, when you drove to the Dodgson house to call the fire department, who let you in?”
“Mrs. Dodgson.”
“You went to the front door?”
“Oh, yes. It was closer, going in the front, so I never gave it a thought, but she looked real surprised and not very happy about it.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“Reggie Melrose came out to see what was happening.”
“She’s the housekeeper?”
“She used to be.”
“Anyone else?”
“Craig Dodgson was in the swimming pool.”
Angela described going into the family room to use the phone. “Mrs. Dodgson went to the pool and yelled at Craig to get out and tossed his robe down and turned off the music. Then she came back and closed the door while I was talking to the fire department. She went to the door with me, and I left and went back to the house.”
“You say she threw down his robe. Where did she get it?”
“She was carrying it when I got there, I guess. She had it when she opened the door.”
“You can see into the pool room from the family room?”
“Yes. There’s a door, and a hall, and the door to the pool room right opposite. Both doors were open. That’s why the music was so blaring.”
“So she went into the pool room and then what? Did you watch her?”
“Not really. It’s just that the telephone’s on a table so that you look at a wall or that way. I saw her.”
“She threw down his robe and yelled at him to come out?”
“No. She went to one of the tables and chairs and turned off the music and put his robe on a chair and then yelled at him.”
“Did you see Craig Dodgson?”
“Yes. When she turned off the music, his head popped up out of the water. That’s when I turned my back.”
Barbara thanked her and sat down.
When Fierst approached her for his redirect examination, he carried a sheaf of papers. “Mrs. Everts,” he said in a quiet, almost sad voice, “when you made your preliminary statement you said that Annie ran out to Paula Kennerman an
d said that Lori fell asleep watching television. Was that correct?”
“That’s what she told me happened.”
“Let me read from the statement you made, Mrs. Everts. The question was: ‘What happened then?’ You answered, ‘Annie come running out and said that Lori fell asleep watching television, so she didn’t want to stay in with her. Then her and Fern decided not to look for mushrooms but to keep on making garlands with the apple blossoms, and I went on to catch up with Emma and the others. Paula Kennerman went back to the house.’ ” He looked at her for a moment and then asked, “Do you remember making that statement?”
“Yes, I remember that day.”
“And you read it and signed it because you thought it was correct?”
“I signed it. I don’t remember now just when Annie said that.”
“Mrs. Everts, wouldn’t you say your memory of what happened was clearer that soon after the events than it is now, nearly six months later?”
“Objection,” Barbara snapped.
She was overruled, as she had known she would be.
“Mrs. Everts, do you remember the question?” Fierst asked.
“I remember it. I just don’t know.” Her voice had become fainter again, more muffled, and she had paled.
He read another bit of her statement and asked her if she remembered that part; she said yes. He read another question and answer and asked her again, and again she said yes. Patiently, he kept at it until he had covered most of what she had said in her preliminary statement.
“Mrs. Everts, why is it that you recall so well everything in your statement except this one incident? Can you explain that?”
“Your Honor, I object. Mr. Fierst knows very well that no one can explain the capriciousness of memory.”
“Sustained,” Judge Paltz said quietly. “Mr. Fierst, perhaps you can get on to something else?”
Fierst bowed slightly. And suddenly Barbara wondered if he saw himself as Job, much put-upon, forced to endure the obstinacy of defense counsel and his own witness.
“No further questions,” he said. The look he gave Angela was long and very sad. He shook his head slightly and sat down.
After Angela left the stand, Fierst asked permission to enter a statement made by Annie Everts in the presence of her mother; Sergeant Gary Durham; Ms. Rogene Lancaster, an assistant to the district attorney; and Mr. William Spassero, who at that time was the defense counsel for Paula Kennerman. He read the statement in his dry, almost inflectionless voice, sounding ludicrous as he repeated the child’s words.