"I object!" Ellery immediately jumped to his feet.
Zachary wiped his damp palms on his pant legs. What was Arthur Man up to?
The murmuring rose again until the judge hit the gavel down once more. "Silence now or I will remove every one of you from this courtroom." The room stilled. "Now, Mr. Livingston on what grounds do you object?"
"That my client is distraught over this whole ordeal and is not up to being unduly questioned.” Everyone knew Ellery was grasping at straws, but Zachary gave him credit for trying.
"Your honor, you would think Mr. Creighton would jump at the chance of saying something to clear his name," the young lawyer stated, looking at Ellery, daring him to say something to the contrary.
Judge Turloff spoke before Ellery could say anything. "I believe Mr. Creighton should have his say. Objection is overruled. Zachary Creighton, please approach the bench.”
Zachary reluctantly rose from his seat and approached the witness stand. He lifted his right hand to be sworn in. After the formalities, Arthur Mann approached him. "Tell us Mr. Creighton, were you forced to get married?"
"Objection!" Ellery shouted.
"Overruled!" the judge shot back with a warning look. He looked at Zachary.
"You will answer the question."
Zachary already felt a foreboding over the interrogation and they hadn't even begun. He answered, "Yes."
"Did you pull a knife on Gillian before you two were wed?"
Zachary blinked in surprise. Obviously, Arthur Mann had done his homework. "I can explain— "
"A simple yes or no will suffice."
Blood pounded in his temples, knowing his answer would inch him closer to conviction.
“We’re waiting, Mr. Creighton.”
"Yes."
Most of the men on the jury frowned their obvious disapproval.
Arthur then walked over to his table and opened a box. He took out a knife and raised it above his head for all to see. "Is this the knife you pulled on your wife? Is this the very knife that you plunged into Dora?"
Ellery again jumped up from his seat. "I object!"
"Let me rephrase my question then." Arthur headed him off. "Is this the knife you pulled on your wife and is this, the very knife that someone,” he over exaggerated the word someone, “...used on Dora?"
Dread weighed down on Zachary, his answer choking in his throat. "Yes.”
"What was that?” He cupped his ear. “The jury didn’t quite make out what you said. Please, repeat your answer, a little louder this time."
"Yes," Zachary complied. His eyes flickered warily to the jury to gauge their reaction. Frowns of disapproval lined their faces as they turned and whispered among themselves.
The lawyer put down the knife. "How was your marriage?"
"Good as one can make it." Zachary squirmed in his seat.
"That's why you and your wife didn’t share the same room?"
Hell and damnation, how did he know about their living arrangement? Then it dawned on him how he came by his information. His gaze riveted to Josephine Locke, who stared back with her pious attitude, condemning him. Why couldn’t the old biddy mind her own business? He looked back at Arthur Mann. "There's an explanation—"
Again, the lawyer interrupted. "Just answer the question. Did you and your wife sleep in separate rooms? A yes or a no, please."
Zachary had no choice but to answer. "Yes.”
The lawyer approached the witness stand so that he stood directly in front of Zachary. His brown eyes narrowed. "Where is Gillian Creighton?"
"I told you, she's visiting relatives." Zachary met his penetrating stare without wavering.
"Was your wife an excellent swimmer?"
"What?" Zachary was taken aback by this sudden change in questioning.
Ellery jumped to his feet, but Judge Turloff held up his hand for him to remain silent. "Mr. Mann, do you mind telling us why we need to know this?"
"It is imperative that everyone knows. You will see later, I assure you."
"I better or you will suffer the consequences.” He waved his hand to the young lawyer. “You may continue then."
Arthur repeated the question. "Was Gillian Creighton an excellent swimmer? Yes or no, please."
"Yes," Zachary answered, uneasily for he couldn’t figure out what the man was up to.
Arthur didn't elaborate further. Instead, he deliberately moved away. "That's all for this witness."
The judge looked at Ellery to begin his questioning. Ellery rose. He looked at Zachary. "You’re on the stand and you have sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. You do understand this?"
Zachary nodded. "Yes."
Ellery returned the nod. "Do you love Gillian Creighton?"
"With all my heart." He didn’t hesitate.
Ellery moved to the front of his table before he spoke. "Did you murder Gillian Creighton?"
"No, I did not." Zachary’s voice was loud and clear.
"Thank you." He looked at the judge. "That will be all."
"Mr. Mann, anymore questions for this witness?" Judge Turloff asked.
"No, your honor. The witness may step down."
Zachary went back to his seat. He glanced behind him and smiled wanly at his grandmother and Tyler.
Tyler leaned over the rail so that he could talk to his uncle. "Why do they all think you hurt Aunt Gillian? Why don't you tell them she's in—"
Zachary put his finger to his lips. "Shush. We talked about this. We can't tell them where Aunt Gillian is because they wouldn't understand. You have to keep it a secret?"
Tyler nodded, but it was obvious he was disappointed that he couldn't say something to the judge that would help. He sat back down next to his grandmother. Zachary hated that the boy feared he would be taken away from him.
Arthur Mann looked at his notes then stood. "I would like to call my next witness, George Martin."
Zachary and Ellery exchanged looks, neither one knew who this next witness was. They turned their heads to the back of the room. The man emerged from behind the crowd of bystanders. He was an old geezer with a gray scraggly beard that covered his face. His hair was long and stringy and it looked like he had not bathed in months. He made his way to the front to be sworn in.
"Mr. Martin, please tell us what you found near the river," Mr. Mann questioned.
"I be out by the river mindin' my own business, when I saw somethin' floatin' in the water. At first, I thoughts it was only a piece of clothin', but as I neared, I could see it ain't. It ‘twas a body. I ran as quickly as I could, but weren't any reason to hurry. The woman ‘twas dead. She was face down in the water and bloated like—"
Arthur cleared his throat. "You don't have to be explicit on the description of the deceased. Just tell us what you discovered."
"Bein' I couldn't do nothin’ for the lass, I decided I better brings her into town. When I turned her over, I seen it. It be a brooch pinned to her blouse. I took it, so's I could possibly locate her family. They's surely be wonderin' what happened to her."
"Where is the brooch, now?" Arthur asked as he neared the bench.
From his pocket, Mr. Martin pulled out the item in question. "Here," he said.
"The brooch had an inscription on the back."
"And what does it say?" Arthur turned and looked directly at Zachary as he waited for George to enlighten the court of the inscription.
"To my love, Creighton. Is what it says."
Zachary’s shoulders sagged. Arthur Mann had him right where he wanted him.
Arthur kept his gaze locked with Zachary's as he asked his next question. "Can you tell the court what color hair the woman you found had?"
"Yep. Her hair be reddish color."
Arthur Mann smiled. "Red." Still looking at Zachary, he repeated what the court had already heard. "Gillian Creighton had red hair. This woman did too, and not only that, she was wearing a brooch that proves her identity. Gillian Creighton is not visiting relat
ives but has been murdered."
"I object." Ellery jumped to his feet. "We have proved nothing here. We will have to make a positive identification of the body first."
"That is fine. We can do that,” Arthur Mann agreed.
Zachary ran his hand through his hair. Of course Arthur would be willing since he was convinced the woman had to be his missing wife.
"Let me rephrase what I was saying." Arthur paced and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Then he looked up and addressed the jury. "Let's say that the deceased is Gillian Creighton." He looked at Ellery and added, "We're only speculating, that is." He then turned his attention to the jury. "We all have heard how Gillian Creighton, the angel of the night saved Zachary from the river. She was an excellent swimmer. You heard her own husband state that she was. Seems mighty strange that if the deceased proves to be Gillian Creighton, that she would succumb to drowning." Arthur looked back to the witness. "Thank you Mr. Martin. I have no more questions."
A buzz filled the air as the people discussed this new piece of evidence. Zachary wanted to scream his innocence but how could he? Even to him, he sounded guilty.
Ellery looked at Zachary, his grim expression saying it all. He couldn’t question the witness. He knew the brooch had belonged to Zachary's mother and Zachary had given the brooch to Gillian. Ellery leaned near Zachary so he could whisper without anyone overhearing him. "Please, tell me the brooch was stolen?"
Zachary shook his head. "I'm afraid that I haven’t seen it since I gave it to Gillian.”
Ellery sat back in his seat. “If there had been any hope of having you acquitted of the charges, the idea is out of the question now. For God’s sake, they have a body. It doesn’t matter that we know the woman they found couldn’t possibly be Gillian. There isn’t a person in the room that would ever believe it. I can’t believe all the incriminating evidence that’s stacking up left and right. We need a miracle and now.”
Zachary looked at the each of the jurymen's faces and saw their loathsome view of him mirrored in their eyes. He knew without a doubt that they were ready to convict him today. He felt his throat constrict. It was almost as if the rope had already been put around his neck.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Ellery made a trip to Judge Turloff's home. He had to try at least one more time to convince the judge of Zachary's innocence.
"You saw the body. You, yourself said that her features were undetectable," Judge Turloff stated as he handed Ellery a glass of brandy. "We have to go with the facts: Gillian Creighton is missing; the woman found fits her description even without the features of her face. The woman had red hair, was about the same height, and built. She was wearing a piece of jewelry that had Creighton's name scrawled on it. The only thing that would prove she was not Gillian Creighton would be for the corpse to sit up and tell us she was someone else."
"I know that it’s not Gillian Creighton," Ellery insisted.
Judge Turloff had a hunch that Ellery knew Gillian’s whereabouts. The question was why everyone was keeping it a secret? When all they had to do was produce the woman. Then all this could be cleared up. "Bring Gillian Creighton to me.” He decided to ask one more time.
Ellery sighed heavily. “I wish I could.” He looked at the judge. "I would love nothing more than to march Gillian into the courtroom, but I can't.”
Judge Turloff did his best to retain his affability, but he was losing his patience. "Then unfortunately, Mr. Livingston, we have nothing more to discuss.”
***
Zachary sat on the cot with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on the palm of his hand. He watched Ellery pace a new path in his cell. They were about to go back into the courtroom without one shred of evidence that would help the case.
They both heard the guard open the outer door, making Ellery stop in mid stride. Zachary stood.
Lotti and Tyler walked ahead of the guard and waited until he unlocked the cell so that they could enter. As soon as Tyler could, he immediately ran into Zachary's welcoming arms. He wept and Zachary tried to comfort him, but he knew there was nothing he could say to relieve his worries.
Zachary saw the irony in all this. He hadn’t allowed the one person who could clear his name to come back with him. If only he had followed his heart. Over Tyler’s head, he met Lotti’s gaze. The old woman had been right after all. Home was not where you laid the foundation of a house, as he once had thought. Home was where your heart dwelled. Unfortunately, he had left his heart behind in another century.
"Tyler?" Ellery called gently with an offer of a handkerchief. The boy half turned. He sniffled and gratefully took the cloth. He then sat down on the cot. He wasn’t crying but his lip was quivering. Tyler looked younger than his six years. How was this little boy expected to understand the injustice of this trial?
Ellery knelt in front of Tyler. "I know this is hard for you. We all have to try to be strong. Your uncle will need all our support, so he knows that we love him."
Tyler sniffled. "Uncle Zachary didn't hurt anyone. Why didn't you tell them? Dora was fine when we left the house. I saw her wave to us. And Uncle Zachary would never hurt Aunt Gillian. Everyone is saying such awful things that just aren’t true. They can't hang him for something he didn't do. Can they?"
Ellery swallowed hard. "Tyler, sometimes people don't want to hear the truth. They see and hear what they want to."
"So, they think he's done all those terrible things?”
"Yes, but as long as you know they aren’t true, that's what is important." Ellery glanced at Zachary with pain filled eyes.
Zachary placed his hand on Ellery's shoulder squeezing it gently.
Lotti finally stepped forward. "Ellery would you mind if I talked to Zachary alone for a moment?"
"Not at all." Ellery stood and took Tyler's hand. "Let's go outside and get some fresh air." Ellery called for the guard.
Lotti waited until they were gone before she spoke. "I've brought your favorite shirt. The one you called your lucky—" She put her hand to her mouth in horror.
Zachary smiled and finished his grandmother's sentence. "My lucky shirt. Well, I do believe luck is exactly what I need just about now."
"I'm sorry," Lotti said softly.
"Don't worry about it, Seanmháthair."
Lotti smiled now, too. "It’s back to grandmother is it?" Lotti sat down on the cot beside him.
"May I ask a favor of you?"
"You know you can." Lotti swallowed hard barely keeping the tears at bay.
"Don't let Tyler forget the truth. He's young and with the gossip, he might—"
"I won't let him forget."
"Make sure . . ." His voice broke. "I want Tyler to know that I loved Gillian and I would never hurt her."
"He'll know. I promise you. He'll know," Lotti repeated.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Gillian stared unblinkingly at the gravestone. Her stomach knotted but the swell of pain was so severe that it was beyond tears. She had wanted proof and there it was chiseled in stone. What she had dreamed had actually happened, but could she hold on to the possibility that maybe it was still a premonition and she could change the outcome? She leaned forward and gently touched Zachary's name that had long ago been etched into the stone.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Gillian looked over her shoulder at the old man who helped her find the location of the grave. She nodded. She didn't trust her voice to answer. She then turned her attention back to the headstone, hoping the man would leave her alone. There was no such luck.
"Is he some distant relative of yours?"
Again, she nodded. She guessed the man couldn’t help but be curious since she had been so determined to find it.
"Well, if that's the case, a little farther down this row there's another headstone with the last name of Creighton. My father had a story about those Creightons, but maybe I had better not tell you. You already seem a little upset.”
Gillian turned so abruptly, she startled the ol
d man into taking a few steps back. "No, please tell me. I want to know."
He scratched his baldhead and squinted up at her. Gillian wasn't sure, if it was from the sun, or if he was trying to decide if she was a lunatic. Finally he spoke. "Well the story goes . . . let me think a moment. Yes, it was said that Zachary Creighton murdered his wife and some other woman. I think it was the housekeeper, though I'm not so sure now. Anyway, Zachary Creighton claimed until his dying day that he was innocent of these crimes. No one believed him." The old man shook his head.
Had Gillian heard him correctly? "You said he murdered his wife?"
"Yes. He drowned her, if I remember right.”
"They found a body?" Gillian was a little confused.
The old man stared at Gillian, his eyes narrowing. "Of course they found the body. How else would they know that he drowned her?"
Gillian tried to stay calm. She needed information and she didn’t want to scare away the only source. "And the other woman, he was supposed to have murdered?"
"He stabbed her to death, if I am remembering it correctly. The man was obviously insane."
"He is not!" Gillian defended him. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I'm sorry. It's just that I have been researching my roots and well . . . who wants to find out you’re related to a murderer?”
He nodded. "I see your point."
"Will you show me that other grave?”
"Sure, follow me."
As they walked, Gillian continued to ask questions. "Did they hang this Zachary Creighton?"
"They did just that." He glanced over his shoulder and added, "Maybe you could see some good came of that. Justice was served for your other relative. The one he drowned, that is."
Gillian followed the old man, her heart beating against her chest. They had only walked a short distance when he stopped and pointed.
Even though she knew it would be her name carved on the gravestone, she still wasn’t prepared to see it. She shivered despite the heat of the day.
"Are you all right, Miss? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Gillian looked at him. "In a sense, I have.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Creighton Manor Page 28