“She’s dead. The poor dear died last year.” reminded Hannah.
“Well you know what I mean. The suffragettes. Your kids are in school now, and I think…well, maybe you just need something of substance to fill up your time these days. That’s what all this thinking and worrying is about. When you had babies crying for you to pick them up every five minutes I’ll bet these things never crossed your mind.”
Hannah did not take offense.
There was some truth in Annie’s observation. Hannah was searching for what to do with herself, now that her children didn’t need her so much. But she had thought about these things before, she really had. But like Annie nowadays, she was so preoccupied back then with babies sick and well, alive and dead—that there was no opportunity to think a whole lot, much less actually do anything about the way that things were.
But now there was.
...
On March 14, the bodies of Arthur and Carrie Pennell arrived in Brunswick, Maine at 2 p.m. and were immediately removed from the train to the cemetery at Pine Grove. Mrs. Pennells’ mother, Mrs. Carrie Lamb, her children Henry, Charles and Gloria, and a cousin were the chief mourners. Two score friends also stood at the grave, where the cover of Carrie Pennell’s coffin was lifted for a viewing; Arthur Pennell’s was not. Flowers and evergreens covered the double grave, including a large square from the class of ’87, Yale College, Arthur Pennell’s alma mater. William M. Pennell, sheriff of Cumberland county and Arthur’s cousin was in charge of the burial arrangements.
The Burdick Inquest
“Under law we are compelled to hold this inquest,” Judge Murphy announced in his opening statement to the court. “We charge no one with this crime. The purpose of this investigation is to lay this crime, if possible, at the door of someone.”
The Burdick family was well represented by Hartzell & Hartzell, and John C. Hubbell. District Attorney Coatsworth conducted the examination of witnesses. Chief of Detectives Pat Cusak sat beside Justice Murphy, prompting the judge to ask several questions during the day.
News reporters from the San Francisco Call, the New York World and all points between scribbled furiously into their notebooks.
The crowded courtroom was peopled by the stridently stylish; the ladies adorned in an enviably beautiful mode reminiscent of the Easter Parade, the men attired in dashing suits and brilliant white or boldly striped shirts with lay down or wing tip collars and shimmering silk ties. It was a fashion parade.
The first witness questioned was Mrs. Marie Hull, mother-in-law of the murdered man. The little woman with the neat gray hair, blue eyes and determined expression was gowned in black entirely from head to toe. She wore a long, voluminous mourning veil on her head which she lifted from her face upon commencing her testimony.
The authorities had expected that the petite and frail-appearing Mrs. Hull, when put on the witness stand, would collapse under the steady and merciless fire of questions and would betray some incident, some fact, which would lead to a solution of this profound and baffling case.
But she did not.
For two hours and eight minutes Mrs. Hull was subjected to a relentless, irritating storm of repetitive queries. She was asked to review in the minutest detail the tragic incidents of the discovery of the battered body of her only daughter’s husband. She was compelled to rehearse the troubles and quarrels of the Burdick household, to recall the indiscretions of her daughter and the supposed sins of her son in law, which have been her life’s sorrow. She was required to picture the horrors of the little den, the chamber of death, and to point out in photographs the very spot where Mr. Burdick lay slaughtered. She showed little irritation or fatigue and did not become confused. She did resort to using smelling salts on occasion, particularly upon being shown photographs of the bloody murder scene, but the aged family matriarch never once lost her composure. Sighs of sympathy and pity for her rippled repeatedly through the courtroom. Women spectators almost cried as District Attorney Coatsworth, implacable and resolute, plied the elderly woman with questions which almost accused her of complicity in the murder. Through it all Mrs. Hull maintained a composure that was remarkable. Her hand trembled occasionally, but not a tear dropped from her eye, not a sob escaped her. She answered every question with emphasis and composure and exited the witness stand with a little smile and a firm step. Not one incriminating word was uttered by her; not a single phrase interjected which might aid the authorities in placing responsibility for the crime.
More than a few of those present however interpreted her stoic placidity as coldheartedness; a testament, in their jaundiced opinion, as to her cooperation in the cover up of the terrible murder.
Next on the stand came Dr. Howland, the medical examiner.
“At what time did you arrive at the Burdick home, Doctor?”
“At about nine o’clock.”
“And who did you see there?”
“I saw Chief Cusak, Detective Sullivan, Detective Wright and Dr. Marcy.”
“Dr. Marcy, the Burdick family physician?”
“Yes sir.”
Were any of the family members present?”
“No, they were upstairs, I believe. It was a shocking scene.”
“And what did Dr. Marcy say to you when you arrived?”
“Dr. Marcy was sitting having his breakfast, and when he saw me arriving he jumped up quite animated and rushed to me before I could set foot over the threshold. He told me that something had been going on there and that Mr. Burdick was dead.”
“Dr. Marcy was sitting down, having breakfast?”
“Yes, he was sitting at the table having his breakfast.”
“After just seeing Mr. Burdick’s head caved in…in the adjoining room?” asked the Justice.
“Yes, your honor.”
“All right. Go on.”
“Dr. Marcy requested that I make it appear that this case was one of suicide, rather than murder. He said there had been a good deal of gossip in the neighborhood respecting the relations existing between Mr. and Mrs. Burdick.”
“Suicide? Were there any indications at all that it might be a suicide?”
“No sir, absolutely none. After examining the body I told Dr. Marcy that it was impossible to entertain the suicide theory even for a minute.”
“And then what did he say?”
“He was very disappointed. I told him that a man does not commit suicide by beating his own skull in from behind.”
“Why would Mr. Burdick’s own physician want to betray him in this way?”
“I do not know. I found it very odd and quite disturbing, to be honest, considering the violence that was so apparent at the scene. Mr. Burdick’s killer needed to be captured quickly and sent off to prison, not be encouraged to roam freely so he might have an opportunity to strike again. That would be a terrible, unforgivable injustice. There were children present in that house when Mr. Burdick was beaten to death! That Dr. Marcy’s request was so preposterous and outrageous did not even seem to bother him in the least little bit. Dr. Marcy should have been his patient’s most ardent protector, his advocate. It’s shameful. Mr. Burdick suffered a terrible death. It was prolonged, in my opinion.”
“What was prolonged?”
“His suffering. There is one other thing Dr. Marcy told me,” he continued. “He said when he went into the den that morning, the curtains were drawn and it was dark in there. He tried to raise the curtain, but could not, and had to tear it down. He also told me a quilt had been wrapped three times about the head of the murdered man. He also said he found blood on the floor.”
Mr. Coatsworth revealed to the court that evidence showed Mr. Burdick’s body had been moved by the murderer after the deed. Dr. Howland said he noticed blood on the couch, on the floor, and on the doors of the den.
“How far was the head of the dead man from the blood pool on the couch?” asked Coatsworth.
“About fifteen inches below the blood pool on the couch. The only item of clothin
g he wore, an undershirt, had ridden up almost to his neck, evidence that he had been dragged away from the murder spot by the legs.”
Dr. Howland then said he saw Detective Wright remove a letter from the dead man’s pocket, and that he heard Dr. Marcy say that old Mrs. Hull was subject to heart failure.
“As Mrs. Hull was giving her statement to the police,” Howland continued, “she hesitated quite a few times, and each time, Dr. Marcy had to prompt her.”
“Prompt her? For what reason?”
“I have no idea. He repeatedly interposed himself whenever the detectives attempted to talk to Mrs. Hull or the children. And it was he who first asked, when told something had happened to Mr. Burdick, if Mrs. Burdick was at home. As if he might have suspected her initially.”
Dr. Howland said he saw no weapon nor any blood anywhere outside the den. There were blood stains on the dead man’s legs that appeared to have been made by bloody fingers.
“Do you think he was killed on the couch?” queried the District Attorney.
“Yes.”
“When he was killed, was he lying on the couch in the position in which you found the body?”
“Judging from the location of the wounds,” Dr. Howland testified, “he must have been in a very different position at the time he was struck.”
“Do you believe a woman could have committed this murder?
”No sir. I do not. That theory is just ridiculous.”
“At what hour did you affix a time of the murder?”
“About 2 o’clock.”
“Policeman Meyer encountered a “lone woman” walking away from the direction of the Burdick house on the night of the murder at one o’clock. But your finding is that Mr. Burdick was murdered an hour after that.”
“Yes sir. I believe the report of the lone woman as a suspect should be laid to rest based on my determination.”
One of the last to see Burdick alive was his attorney George G. Miller who took the stand next. The attorney had been retained by Burdick to act on the divorce proceedings against his wife. Their case was scheduled to be heard on March 3rd, he said. The murdered man and Mr. Pennell had held a meeting together in Mr. Miller’s offices a few weeks before the killing. Miller had an appointment with Mr. Burdick the evening he died at 6 p.m. on February 26 at the Burdick home.
“Mr. Burdick was ready at all times to sacrifice his own interests for those of his children. He carried a revolver, but I never heard him say that he feared harm from Pennell. At that conference held at my office, Pennell made one or two statements from which an intimation of suicide could be drawn, although I never heard Pennell say precisely that unless the divorce action was withdrawn he would kill himself and Mrs. Burdick.”
In her testimony, Lizzie Romance, the Pennells’ maid, said that the night of Edwin Burdick’s murder, Mr. Pennell was with his wife in their room reading at 7:45 p.m. She said she saw them again at 10 p.m. when she passed their door, but did not see either of them again until the following morning. She testified that although her custom was to iron and care for Mr. Pennell’s clothes, and that she had pressed Pennell’s trousers, she could not now recall what he was wearing on either occasion. She had not noticed whether any of his trousers had gone missing. She could not say whether Pennell went to the furnace the morning after the murder, or whether or not the Pennells left the house after 10 p.m. the night of the murder, for the Baker Electric automobile was virtually silent in its operation. In the history of her employ she claimed she had never once heard cross words exchanged between Mr. and Mrs. Pennell. Furthermore, she did not notice anything unusual in the manner of either Arthur Pennell or his wife on the day they left for the auto ride that ended in tragedy for them. It was upon Miss Romance that Arthur Pennell had relied to corroborate his alibi for the night of the murder.
Mr. Burdick’s business partner Charles S. Parke was called next. He produced an uproar when he stated without hesitation “The murder was committed by Arthur Pennell or a hired assassin.”
After Mr. Parke was excused, Mrs. Burdick was called to the witness stand. Parke had stared holes right through her as he testified, and continued to do so as he returned to his chair, but Mrs. Burdick refused to look at him.
A loud murmur filled the room as she made her way to the stand. District Attorney Coatsworth was relentless and without pity as he exposed her lies and evasions, forcing her to tell her story of her relations with Pennell from the time he first had his way with her in 1898 until 1901 when these sexual relations were begun anew after Mr. Burdick had forgiven her and taken her back into the home for the sake of their children.
Mrs. Burdick stated that she had married Ed Burdick in 1886 and that they had three children. She met Arthur Reed Pennell at a card party in 1897 to which Mr. Burdick had accompanied her. She traveled alone to New York and New Haven with Mr. and Mrs. Pennell in 1898, Mr. Burdick being detained in Buffalo then due to business obligations.
Mrs. Burdick swore under oath that no unusual friendship ever sprang up between herself and Pennell.
In response to her lie, District Attorney Coatsworth produced a piece of correspondence. It was a love letter written by Pennell to Mrs. Burdick. She turned deathly pale.
Coatsworth asked, “Mrs. Burdick, do you recall receiving a letter from Arthur Pennell in 1900 written at New Haven, in which he said, ‘Yesterday I was at the gateway on the campus grounds where more than two years ago I drew you in, in the darkness’?”
“No, sir. I do not,” she emphatically replied.
Coatsworth then turned and withdrew from his leather portfolio the letter from which he had just quoted. She began to tremble at having been found out. Forward from there she took the District Attorney’s examination of her quite hard. Many of her answers were made in a near-whisper.
“Do you recognize this as being in Arthur Pennell’s handwriting?”
“Yes.”
“Do you now recall the incident?”
“Yes. I recall that he took me into a darkened doorway and kissed me.”
“Did you recoil? Did you push him away?”
“No, sir. I kissed him back.”
The female spectators, who outnumbered the male variety two to one, quite audibly gasped.
Letter after letter was produced, all written by Pennell to Mrs. Burdick. She tried to deny having ever seen some of them. One referred in very affectionate language to Pennell having found her gloves in his coat pocket. In another written from Shelter Island he said he would telephone her just to hear her dear voice. She claimed she did not remember his calling.
“What did Pennell mean in this letter,” Coatsworth asked, pulling it from a pile of many in Pennell’s own hand, “where he says he hoped to see you Wednesday morning at 1-2-3?”
“I do not know.”
“Doesn’t it refer to a house number on a street in this city? Seventh St. to be exact?”
“I don’t know.”
“In 1900 there were several houses in this city where you used to meet him?”
“There may have been two or three.”
Coatsworth drew another letter from the pile, this one dated September 17, 1900, postmarked New Haven and addressed to the witness. Mrs. Burdick admitted receiving the letter. In it Pennell wrote:
“I shall try to telephone you tomorrow morning, and on Thursday if all goes well I shall know the exquisite happiness of seeing you. I have had your dear picture in the locket to look at, and that has been awfully sweet and comforting.”
Pennell referred to Mrs. Burdick in the letter as “My love, my life, my dearest one.”
“Did you give him a locket with your photograph in it, Mrs. Burdick?”
“No sir.”
Coatsworth then produced a letter written on Waldorf-Astoria stationary and postmarked New York City.
“Do you recall receiving a telephone from Mr. Pennell on this date?”
“No sir,” she whispered.
“In this letter, Mrs. Burdick, Arthur Pe
nnell writes, ‘I just came from telephoning you and hearing your dear, sweet voice. Am I foolish to telephone you from way down here? It was worth all it cost me! I realize more and more that you are the only woman in the world for me. Thank you, dearest, from the bottom of my heart, for the beautiful locket containing the image of your pretty face. I know the trouble you went to in order to obtain this, and I will treasure it close to my heart forever.”
Coatsworth paused for effect, then asked, “Mrs. Burdick, do you remember getting this letter?”
“No, sir.”
“In this same letter,” the District Attorney continued, “Pennell says, ‘Only a day more and I shall once more see the lovelight in your eyes and experience the paradise within your arms.’ What does he mean by that, Mrs. Burdick, by ‘the paradise within your arms’?”
“I don’t know,” she answered quietly.
“Pretty strong language, wouldn’t you say Mrs. Burdick?”
She did not respond. The courtroom went dead silent, waiting, adding drama to her refusal to answer.
Another letter was produced. Mrs. Burdick was by now as white as a sheet and looking as if she might faint at any minute. Coatsworth took no mind of it, and asked, “Do you recall receiving this particular letter from Pennell, also written at the Waldorf?”
He showed her the letter. She studied it for a moment.
“No, sir, I don’t.”
“Then I’ll read it and we’ll see if it doesn’t refresh your recollection. ‘As I looked into your beautiful eyes last night, I feared there was some trouble hidden there. I did not know, but I feared it was because of some other reason than because I was going away. If there was, dearest, I wish you would tell me. There is that in the manner of your husband toward you that makes me fear sometimes that I might kill him’.”
“Now do you recall receiving this letter?”
“No sir. I have never read those words before.”
“You claim you never heard Arthur Pennell ever once say anything about killing your husband, getting rid of him, anything to that effect?”
“No sir.”
“Did your husband know you were receiving love letters from Arthur Pennell?
Fingy Conners & The New Century Page 34