Calamity Town

Vox Pops

“Ave, Caesar!” wrote Roberta Roberts at the head of her column under the dateline of March fifteenth.

He who is about to be tried for his life finds even the fates against him. Jim Haight’s trial begins on the Ides of March before Judge Lysander Newbold in Wright County Courthouse, Part II, Wrightsville, U.S.A. This is chance, or subtlety . . . Kid Vox is popping furiously, and it is the impression of cooler heads that the young man going on trial here for the murder of Rosemary Haight and the attempted murder of Nora Wright Haight is being prepared to make a Roman holiday.

And so it seemed.

From the beginning there was a muttering undertone that was chilling. Chief of Police Dakin expressed himself privately to the persistent press as “mighty relieved” that his prisoner didn’t have to be carted through the streets of Wrightsville to reach the place of his inquisition, since the County Jail and the County Courthouse were in the same building.

People were in such an ugly temper you would have imagined their hatred of the alleged poisoner to be inspired by the fiercest loyalty to the Wrights.

But this was odd, because they were equally ugly toward the Wrights. Dakin had to assign two county detectives to escort the family to and from the Courthouse. Even so, jeering boys threw stones, the tires of their cars were slashed mysteriously and the paint scratched with nasty words; seven unsigned letters of the “threat” variety were delivered by a nervous Postman Bailey in one day alone. Silent, John F. Wright turned them over to Dakin’s office; and Patrolman Brady himself caught the Old Soak, Anderson, standing precariously in the middle of the Wright lawn in bright daylight, declaiming not too aptly to the unresponding house Mark Antony’s speech from Act III, Scene I of Julius Caesar. Charlie Brady hauled Mr. Anderson to the town lockup hastily, while Mr. Anderson kept yelling: “O parm me thou blee’n’ piece of earth that I am meek an’ zhentle with theshe¯hup!¯bushers!”

Hermy and John F. began to look beaten. In court, the family sat together, in a sort of phalanx, with stiff necks if pale faces; only occasionally Hermy smiled rather pointedly in the direction of Jim Haight, and then turned to sniff and glare at the jammed courtroom and toss her head, as if to say: “Yes, we’re all in this together, you miserable rubbernecks!”

There had been a great deal of mumbling about the impropriety of Carter Bradford’s prosecuting the case. In an acid editorial Frank Lloyd put the Record on record as “disapproving.” True, unlike Judge Eli Martin, Bradford had arrived at the fatal New Year’s Eve party after the poisoning of Nora and Rosemary, so he was not involved either as participant or as witness. But Lloyd pointed out that “our young, talented, but sometimes emotional Prosecutor has long been friendly with the Wright family, especially one member of it; and although we understand this friendship has ceased as of the night of the crime, we still question the ability of Mr. Bradford to prosecute this case without bias. Something should be done about it.”

Interviewed on this point before the opening of the trial, Mr. Bradford snapped: “This isn’t Chicago or New York. We have a close-knit community here, where everybody knows everybody else. My conduct during the trial will answer the Record’s libelous insinuations. Jim Haight will get from Wright County a forthright, impartial prosecution based solely upon the evidence. That’s all, gentlemen!”

Judge Lysander Newbold was an elderly man, a bachelor, greatly respected throughout the state as a jurist and trout fisherman.

He was a square, squat, bony man who always sat on the Bench with his black-fringed skull sunk so deeply between his shoulders that it seemed an outgrowth of his chest.

His voice was dry and careless; he had the habit, when on the Bench, of playing absently with his gavel, as if it were a fishing rod; and he never laughed.

Judge Newbold had no friends, no associates, and no commitments except to God, country, Bench, and the trout season.

Everybody said with a sort of relieved piety that “Judge Newbold is just about the best judge this case could have.” Some even thought he was too good. But they were the ones who were muttering.

Roberta Roberts baptized these grumblers “the Jimhaighters.”

* * *

It took several days to select a jury, and during these days Mr. Ellery Queen kept watching only two persons in the courtroom¯Judge Eli Martin, defense counsel, and Carter Bradford, Prosecutor.

And it soon became evident that this would be a war between young courage and old experience. Bradford was working under a strain. He held himself in one piece, like a casting; there was a dogged something about him that met the eye with defiance and yet a sort of shame. Ellery saw early that he was competent. He knew his townspeople, too. But he was speaking too quietly, and occasionally his voice cracked.

Judge Martin was superb. He did not make the mistake of patronizing young Bradford, even subtly; that would have swung the people over to the prosecution. Instead, he was most respectful of Bradford’s comments. Once, returning to their places from a low-voiced colloquy before Judge Newbold, the old man was seen to put his hand affectionately on Carter’s shoulder for just an instant. The gesture said: You’re a good boy; we like each other; we are both interested in the same thing¯justice; and we are equally matched. This is all very sad, but necessary. The People are in good hands.

The People rather liked it. There were whispers of approval. And some were heard to say: After all, old Eli Martin¯he did quit his job on the Bench to defend Haight. Can’t get around that! Must be pretty convinced Haight’s innocent . . . And others replied: Go on. The Judge is John F. Wright’s best friend, that’s why . . . Well, I don’t know . . .

The whole thing was calculated to create an atmosphere of dignity and thoughtfulness, in which the raw emotions of the mob could only gasp for breath and gradually expire.

Mr. Ellery Queen approved.

Mr. Queen approved even more when he finally examined the twelve good men and true. Judge Martin had made the selections as deftly and surely as if there were no Bradford to cope with at all. Solid, sober male citizens, as far as Ellery could determine. None calculated to respond to prejudicial appeals, with one possible exception, a fat man who kept sweating; most seemed anxiously thoughtful men, with higher-than-average intelligence. Men of the decent world, who might be expected to understand that a man can be weak without being criminal.

* * *

For students of the particular, the complete court record of People vs. James Haight is on file in Wright County¯day after day after day of question and answer and objection and Judge Newbold’s precise rulings. For that matter, the newspapers were almost as exhaustive as the court stenographer’s notes.

The difficulty with detailed records, however, is that you cannot see the tree for the leaves.

So let us stand off and make the leaves blur and blend into larger shapes. Let us look at contours, not textures.

In his opening address to the jury, Carter Bradford said that the jury must bear in mind continuously one all-important point: that while Rosemary Haight, the defendant’s sister, was murdered by poison, her death was not the true object of defendant’s crime. The true object of defendant’s crime was to take the life of defendant’s young wife, Nora Wright Haight¯an object so nearly accomplished that the wife was confined to her bed for six weeks after the fateful New Year’s Eve party, a victim of arsenic poisoning.

And yes, the State freely admits that its case against James Haight is circumstantial, but murder convictions on circumstantial evidence are the rule, not the exception. The only direct evidence possible in a murder case is an eyewitness’s testimony as to having witnessed the murder at the moment of its commission. In a shooting case, this would have to be a witness who actually saw the accused pull the trigger and the victim fall dead as a result of the shot. In a poisoning case, it would have to be a witness who actually saw the accused deposit poison in the food or drink to be swallowed by the victim and, moreover, who saw the accused hand the poisoned food or drink to the victim.

Obviously, continued Bradford, such “happy accidents” of persons witnessing the Actual Deed must be few and far between, since murderers understandably try to avoid committing their murders before an audience. Therefore nearly all prosecutions of murder are based on circumstantial rather than direct evidence; the law has wisely provided for the admission of such evidence, otherwise most murderers would go unpunished.

But the jury need not flounder in doubts about this case; here the circumstantial evidence is so clear, so strong, so indisputable, that the jury must find James Haight guilty of the crime as charged beyond any reasonable doubt whatsoever.

“The People will prove,” said Bradford in a low, firm tone, “that James Haight planned the murder of his wife a minimum of five weeks before he tried to accomplish it; that it was a cunning plan, depending upon a series of poisonings of increasing severity to establish the wife as subject to attacks of ‘illness,’ and supposed to culminate in a climactic poisoning as a result of which the wife was to die.

“The People will prove,” Bradford went on, “that these preliminary poisonings did take place on the very dates indicated by the schedule James Haight had prepared with his own hand; that the attempted murder of Nora Haight and the accidental murder of Rosemary Haight did take place on the very date indicated by that same schedule.

“The People will prove that on the night under examination, James Haight and James Haight alone mixed the batch of cocktails among whose number was the poisoned cocktail; that James Haight and James Haight alone handed the tray of cocktails around to the various members of the party; that James Haight and James Haight alone handed his wife the poisoned cocktail from the tray and even urged her to drink it; that she did drink of that cocktail and fell violently ill of arsenic poisoning, her life being spared only because at Rosemary Haight’s insistence she gave the rest of the poisoned cocktail to her sister-in-law after having merely sipped . . . a circumstance James Haight couldn’t have foreseen.

“The People will prove,” Bradford went on quietly, “that James Haight was in desperate need of money; that he demanded large sums of money of his wife while under the influence of liquor, and sensibly, she refused; that James Haight was losing large sums of money gambling; that he was taking other illicit means of procuring money; that upon Nora Haight’s death her estate, a large one as the result of an inheritance, would legally fall to the defendant, who is her husband and heir-at-law.

“The People,” concluded Bradford in a tone so low he could scarcely be heard, “being convinced beyond reasonable doubt that James Haight did so plan and attempt the life of one person in attempting which he succeeded in taking the life of another, an innocent victim¯the People demand that James Haight pay with his own life for the life taken and the life so nearly taken.”

And Carter Bradford sat down to spontaneous applause, which caused the first of Judge Newbold’s numerous subsequent warnings to the spectators.

* * *

In that long dreary body of testimony calculated to prove Jim Haight’s sole Opportunity, the only colorful spots were provided by Judge Eli Martin in cross-examination.

From the first the old lawyer’s plan was plain to Ellery: to cast doubt, doubt, doubt. Not heatedly. With cool humor. The voice of reason . . . Insinuate. Imply. Get away with whatever you can and to hell with the rules of cross-examination.

Ellery realized that Judge Martin was desperate.

“But you can’t be sure?”

“N-no.”

“You didn’t have the defendant under observation every moment?”

“Of course not!”

“The defendant might have laid the tray of cocktails down for a moment or so?”

“No.”

“Are you positive?”

Carter Bradford quietly objects: the question was answered. Sustained. Judge Newbold waves his hand patiently.

“Did you see the defendant prepare the cocktails?”

“No.”

“Were you in the living room all the time?”

“You know I was!” This was Frank Lloyd, and he was angry. To Frank Lloyd, Judge Martin paid especial attention. The old gentleman wormed out of the newspaper publisher his relationship with the Wright family¯his “peculiar” relationship with the defendant’s wife. He had been in love with her. He had been bitter when she turned him down for James Haight. He had threatened James Haight with bodily violence. Objection, objection, objection. But it managed to come out, enough of it to reawaken in the jury’s minds the whole story of Frank Lloyd and Nora Wright¯after all, that story was an old one to Wrightsville, and everybody knew the details!

So Frank Lloyd became a poor witness for the People; and there was a doubt, a doubt. The vengeful jilted “other” man. Who knows? Maybe¯

With the Wright family, who were forced to take the stand to testify to the actual events of the night, Judge Martin was impersonal¯and cast more doubts. On the “facts.” Nobody actually saw Jim Haight drop arsenic into the cocktail. Nobody could be sure . . . of anything.

But the prosecution’s case proceeded, and despite Judge Martin’s wily obstructions, Bradford established: that Jim alone mixed the cocktails; that Jim was the only one who could have been certain the poisoned cocktail went to Nora, his intended victim, since he handed each drinker his or her cocktail; that Jim pressed Nora to drink when she was reluctant.

And the testimony of old Wentworth, who had been the attorney for John F.’s father. Wentworth had drawn the dead man’s will. Wentworth testified that on Nora’s marriage she received her grandfather’s bequest of a hundred thousand dollars, held in trust for her until that “happy” event.

And the testimony of the five handwriting experts, who agreed unanimously, despite the most vigorous cross-examination by Judge Martin, that the three unmailed letters addressed to Rosemary Haight, dated Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s, and announcing far in advance of those dates the “illnesses” of Nora Haight, the third actually announcing her “death”¯agreed unanimously that these damning letters were in the handwriting of the defendant, beyond any doubt whatever. For several days the trial limped and lagged while huge charts were set up in the courtroom and Judge Martin, who had obviously boned up, debated the finer points of handwriting analysis with the experts . . . unsuccessfully.

Then came Alberta Manaskas, who turned out a staunch defender of the public weal. Alberta evinced an unsuspected volubility. And, to judge from her testimony, her eyes, which had always seemed dull, were sharper than a cosmic ray; and her ears, which had merely seemed large and red, were more sensitive than a photoelectric cell.

It was through Alberta that Carter Bradford brought out how, as the first letter had predicted, Nora took sick on Thanksgiving Day; how Nora had another, and worse, attack of “sickness” on Christmas Day. Alberta went into clinical detail about these “sicknesses.”

Judge Martin rose to his opportunity.

Sickness, Alberta? Now what kind of sickness would you say Miss Nora had on Thanksgiving and Christmas?

Sick! Like in her belly. (Laughter.)

Have you ever been sick like in your¯uh¯belly, Alberta?

Sure! You, me, everyone. (Judge Newbold raps for order.) Like Miss Nora?

Sure!

(Gently): You’ve never been poisoned by arsenic, though, have you, Alberta?

Bradford, on his feet.

Judge Martin sat down smiling. Mr. Queen noticed the sweat fringing his forehead.

* * *

Dr. Milo Willoughby’s testimony, confirmed by the testimony of Coroner Chic Salemson and the testimony of L. D. (“Whitey”) Magill, State Chemist, established that the toxic agent which had made Nora Haight ill, and caused the death of Rosemary Haight, was arsenious acid, or arsenic trioxid, or arsenious oxid, or simply “white arsenic”¯all names for the same deadly substance.

Henceforth prosecutor and defense counsel referred to it simply as “arsenic.”

Dr. Magill described the substance as “colorless, tasteless, and odorless in solution and of a high degree of toxicity.”

Q. (by Prosecutor Bradford)¯It is a powder, Dr. Magill?

A.¯Yes, sir.

Q.¯Would it dissolve in a cocktail or lose any of its effectiveness if taken that way?

A.¯Arsenic trioxid is very slightly soluble in alcohol, but since a cocktail is greatly aqueous, it will dissolve quite readily. It is soluble in water, you see. No, it would lose none of its toxicity in alcohol.

Q.¯Thank you, Dr. Magill. Your witness, Judge Martin.

Judge Martin waives cross-examination.

Prosecutor Bradford calls to the stand Myron Garback, proprietor of the High Village Pharmacy, Wrightsville.

Mr. Garback has a cold; his nose is red and swollen. He sneezes frequently and fidgets in the witness chair. From the audience Mrs. Garback, a pale Irishwoman, watches her husband anxiously.

Being duly sworn, Myron Garback testifies that “sometime” during October of 1940¯the previous October¯James Haight had entered the High Village Pharmacy and asked for “a small tin of Quicko.”

Q.¯What exactly is Quicko, Mr. Garback?

A.¯It is a preparation used for the extermination of rodents and insect pests.

Q.¯What is the lethal ingredient of Quicko?

A.¯Arsenic trioxid. (Sneeze. Laughter. Gavel.)

Mrs. Garback turns crimson and glares balefully about.

Q.¯ln highly concentrated form?

A.¯Yes, sir.

Q.¯Did you sell the defendant a tin of this poisonous preparation, Mr. Garback?

A.¯Yes, sir. It is a commercial preparation, requiring no prescription.

Q.¯Did the defendant ever return to purchase more Quicko?

A.¯Yes, sir, about two weeks later. He said he’d mislaid the can of stuff, so he’d have to buy a new can. I sold him a new can.

Q.¯Did the defendant¯I’ll rephrase the question. What did the defendant say to you, and what did you say to the defendant, on the occasion of his first purchase?

A.¯Mr. Haight said there were mice in his house, and he wanted to kill them off. I said I was surprised, because I’d never heard of house mice up on the Hill. He didn’t say anything to that.

Cross-examination by Judge Eli Martin:

Q.¯Mr. Garback, how many tins of Quicko would you estimate you sold during the month of October last?

A.¯That’s hard to answer. A lot. It’s my best-selling rat-killer, and Low Village is infested.

Q.¯Twenty-five? Fifty?

A.¯Somewhere around there.

Q.¯Then it’s not unusual for customers to buy this poisonous preparation¯purely to kill rats?

A.¯No, sir, not unusual at all.

Q.¯Then how is it you remembered that Mr. Haight purchased some¯remembered it for five months?

A.¯It just stuck in my mind. Maybe because he bought two tins so close together, and it was the Hill.

Q.¯You’re positive it was two cans, two weeks apart?

A.¯Yes, sir. I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.

Q.¯No comments, please; just answer the question. Mr. Garback, do you keep records of your Quicko sales, listed by customer?

A.¯I don’t have to, Judge. It’s legal to sell¯

Q.~ Answer the question, Mr. Garback. Have you a written record of James Haight’s alleged purchases of Quicko?

A.¯No, sir, but¯

Q.¯Then we just have your word, relying on your memory of two incidents you allege to have occurred five months ago, that the defendant purchased Quicko from you?

Prosecutor Bradford: Your Honor, the witness is under oath. He has answered Counsel’s question not once, but several times. Objection.

Judge Newbold: It seems to me witness has answered, Judge. Sustained.

Q.¯That’s all, thank you, Mr. Garback.

Alberta Manaskas is recalled to the stand. Questioned by Mr. Bradford, she testifies that she “never seen no rats in Miss Nora’s house.” She further testifies that she “never seen no rat-killer, neither.”

On cross-examination, Judge Martin asks Alberta Manaskas if it is not true that in the tool chest in the cellar of the Haight house there is a large rat trap.

A.¯Is there?

Q.¯That’s what I’m asking you, Alberta.

A.¯I guess there is, at that.

Q.¯If there are no rats, Alberta, why do you suppose the Haights keep a rat trap?

Prosecutor Bradford: Objection. Calling for opinion.

Judge Newbold: Sustained. Counsel, I’ll have to ask you to restrict your cross-examination to¯

Judge Martin (humbly): Yes, Your Honor.

* * *

Emmeline DuPre, under oath, testifies that she is a Dramatic and Dancing Teacher residing at Number 468 Hill Drive, Wrightsville, “right next door to Nora Wright’s house.”

Witness testifies that during the previous November and December she “happened to overhear” frequent quarrels between Nora and James Haight. The quarrels were about Mr. Haight’s heavy drinking and numerous demands for money. There was one markedly violent quarrel, in December, when Miss DuPre heard Nora Haight refuse to give her husband “any more money.” Did Miss DuPre “happen to overhear” anything to indicate why the defendant needed so much money? A.¯That’s what shocked me so, Mr. Bradford¯Q.¯The Court is not interested in your emotional reactions, Miss DuPre. Answer the question, please.

A.¯Jim Haight admitted he’d been gambling and losing plenty; and that’s why he needed money, he said.

Q.¯Was any name or place mentioned by either Mr. or Mrs. Haight in connection with the defendant’s gambling?

A.¯Jim Haight said he’d been losing a lot at the Hot Spot, that scandalous place on Route 16¯

Judge Martin: Your Honor, I move that this witness’s entire testimony be stricken out. I have no objection to give-and-take in this trial. Mr. Bradford has been extremely patient with me, and it is an admittedly difficult case, being so vaguely circumstantial¯

Mr. Bradford: May 1 ask Counsel to restrict his remarks to his objection and stop trying to influence the jury by characterizing the case?

Judge Newbold: The Prosecutor is right, Counsel. Now what is your objection to this witness’s testimony?

Judge Martin: No attempt has been made by the People to fix the times and circumstances under which witness allegedly overheard conversations between defendant and wife. Admittedly witness was not present in the same room or even in the same house. How, then, did she “overhear”? How can she be sure the two people were the defendant and his wife? Did she see them? Didn’t she see them? I hold¯Miss DuPre: But I heard all this with my own ears! Judge Newbold: Miss DuPre! Yes, Mr. Bradford? Mr. Bradford: The People have put Miss DuPre on the stand in an effort to spare defendant’s wife the pain of testifying to the quarrels¯Judge Martin: That’s not my point.

Judge Newbold: No, it is not. Nevertheless, Counsel, I suggest you cover your point in cross-examination. Objection denied. Proceed, Mr. Bradford.

Mr. Bradford proceeds, eliciting further testimony as to quarrels between Jim and Nora. On cross-examination, Judge Martin reduces Miss DuPre to indignant tears. He brings out her physical position relative to the conversationalists¯crouched by her bedroom window in darkness listening to the voices floating warmly across the driveway between her house and the Haight house¯confuses her in the matter of dates and times involved, so that she clearly contradicts herself several times.

The spectators enjoy themselves.

* * *

Under oath, J. P. Simpson, proprietor of Simpson’s Pawnshop in the Square, Wrightsville, testifies that in November and December last, James Haight pledged various items of jewelry at Simpson’s Pawnshop.

Q.¯What kind of jewelry, Mr. Simpson?

A.¯First one was a man’s gold watch¯he took it off his chain to pawn it. Nice merchandise. Fair price¯

Q.¯Is this the watch?

A.¯Yes, sir. I remember givin’ him a fair price¯

Q.¯Placed in evidence.

Clerk: People’s exhibit thirty-one.

Q.¯Will you read the inscription on the watch, Mr. Simpson?

A.-The what? Oh. ”To-Jim-from-Nora.”

Q.¯What else did the defendant pawn, Mr. Simpson?

A.¯Gold and platinum rings, a cameo brooch, and so on. All good merchandise. Very good loan merchandise.

Q.¯Do you recognize these items of jewelry I now show you, Mr. Simpson?

A.¯Yes, sir. They’re the ones he pawned with me. Gave him mighty fair prices¯

Q.¯Never mind what you gave him. These last items are all women’s jewelry, are they not?

A.-That’s right.

Q.¯Read the various inscriptions. Aloud.

A.-Wait till I fix my specs. ”N.W.”¯”N.W.”¯”N.W.H.”¯”N.W.”

Nora’s jewelry is placed in evidence.

Q.¯One last question, Mr. Simpson. Did the defendant ever redeem any of the objects he pawned with you?

A.¯No, sir. He just kept bringing me new stuff, one at a time, an’ I kept givin’ him fair prices for ‘em.

Judge Martin waives cross-examination.

* * *

Donald Mackenzie, President of the Wrightsville Personal Finance Corporation, being duly sworn, testifies that James Haight had borrowed considerable sums from the PFC during the last two months of the preceding year.

Q.¯On what collateral, Mr. Mackenzie?

A.¯None.

Q.¯Isn’t this unusual for your firm, Mr. Mackenzie? To lend money without collateral?

A.¯Well, the PFC has a very liberal loan policy, but of course we usually ask for collateral. Just business, you understand. Only, since Mr. Haight was Vice-President of the Wrightsville National Bank and the son-in-law of John Fowler Wright, the company made an exception in his case and advanced the loans on signature only.

Q.¯Has the defendant made any payments against his indebtedness, Mr. Mackenzie?

A.-Well, no.

Q.¯Has your company made any effort to collect the moneys due, Mr. Mackenzie?

A.¯Well, yes. Not that we were worried, but¯Well, it was five thousand dollars, and after asking Mr. Haight several times to make his stipulated payments and getting no satisfaction, we¯I finally went to the bank to see Mr. Wright, Mr. Haight’s father-in-law, and explained the situation, and Mr. Wright said he hadn’t known about his son-in-law’s loan, but of course he’d make it good himself, and I wasn’t to say anything about it¯to keep it confidential. I would have, too, only this trial and all¯

Judge Martin: Objection. Incompetent, irrelevant¯

Q.¯Never mind that, Mr. Mackenzie. Did John F. Wright repay your company the loan in full?

A.¯Principal and interest. Yes, sir.

Q.¯Has the defendant borrowed any money since January the first of this year?

A.¯No, sir.

Q.¯Have you had any conversations with the defendant since January the first of this year?

A.¯Yes. Mr. Haight came in to see me in the middle of January and started to explain why he hadn’t paid anything on his loan¯said he’d made some bad investments¯asked for more time and said he’d surely pay back his debt. I said to him that his father-in-law’d already done that.

Q.¯What did the defendant say to that?

A.¯He didn’t say a word. He just walked out of my office.

Judge Martin cross-examines.

Q.¯Mr. Mackenzie, didn’t it strike you as strange that the Vice-President of a banking institution like the Wrightsville National Bank, and the son-in-law of the President of that bank, should come to you for a loan?

A.¯Well, I guess it did. Only I figured it was a confidential matter, you see¯

Q.¯In a confidential matter, without explanations or collateral, on a mere signature, you still advanced the sum of five thousand dollars?

A.¯Well, I knew old John F. would make good if¯

Mr. Bradford: Your Honor¯

Judge Martin: That’s all, Mr. Mackenzie.

* * *

Not all the evidence against Jim Haight came out in the courtroom.

Some of it came out in Vic Carlatti’s, some in the Hollis Hotel Tonso-rial Parlor, some in Dr. Emil Poffenberger’s dental office in the Upham Block, some in Gus Olesen’s Roadside Tavern, and at least one colorful fact was elicited from the bibulous Mr. Anderson by a New York reporter, the scene of the interview being the pedestal of the Low Village World War Memorial, on which Mr. Anderson happened to be stretched out at the time.

Emmeline DuPre heard the Luigi Marino story through Tessie Lupin. Miss DuPre was having her permanent done in the Lower Main Beauty Shop where Tessie worked, and Tessie had just had lunch with her husband, Joe, who was one of Luigi Marino’s barbers. Joe had told Tessie, and Tessie had told Emmy DuPre, and Emmy DuPre . . .

Then the town began to hear the other stories, and old recollections were raked over for black and shining dirt. And when it was all put together, Wrightsville began to say: Now there’s something funny going on. Do you suppose Frank Lloyd was right about Carter Bradford’s being the Wrights’ friend and all? Why doesn’t he put Luigi and Dr. Poffen-berger on the stand? And Gus Olesen? And the others? Why, this all makes it plain as day that Jim Haight wanted to kill Nora! He threatened her all over town!

Chief Dakin was tackled by Luigi Marino before court opened one morning when the Chief came in for a quick shave. Joe Lupin listened from the next chair with both hairy ears.

“Say, Chefe!” said Luigi in great excitement. ”I been lookin’ all over for-a you! I just remember something hot!”

“Yeah, Luigi? Once over, and take it easy.”

“Las’ Novemb’. Jim-a Haight, he come in here one day for I should cut-a his hair. I say to Mist’ Haight, ‘Mist’ Haight, I feel-a fine. You know what? I’m-a gonna get hitched!’ Mist’ Haight he say that’s-a good, who’s-a the lucky gal? I say: ‘Francesca Botigliano. I know Francesca from the ol’ countree. She been workin’ by Saint-a Louey, but I propose-a in a lett’ an’ now Francesca she’s-a comin’ to Wrights-a-ville to be Mrs. Marino¯I send-a her the ticket an’ expense-a mon’ myself. Ain’t that something?’ You remember I get-a married, Chefe . . . ”

“Sure, Luigi. Hey, take it easy!”

“So what-a does Mist’ Haight say? He say: ‘Luigi, nev’ marry a poor gal! There ain’t-a no per-cent-age in it!’ You see? He marry that-a gal Nora Wright for her mon’! You get-a Mist’ Bradford put me on-a stand. I’ll tell-adat story!”

Chief Dakin laughed.

But Wrightsville did not. To Wrightsville it seemed logical that Luigi’s story should be part of the trial testimony. It would show that he married Nora Wright for her money. If a man would marry a woman for her money, he’d poison her for it, too . . . Those ladies of Wrightsville who were so unfortunate as to have lawyers in the family heard a few pointed remarks about “admissible” testimony.

Dr. Poffenberger had actually gone to Prosecutor Bradford before the trial and offered to testify.

“Why, Haight came to me last December, Cart, suffering from an abscessed wisdom tooth. I gave him gas, and while he was under the influence of the gas, he kept saying: ‘I’ll get rid of her! I’ll get rid of her!’And then he said: ‘I need that money for myself. I want that money for myself!’ Doesn’t that prove he was planning to kill her and why?”

“No,” said Bradford wearily. ”Unconscious utterances. Inadmissible testimony. Go way, Emil, and let me work, will you?”

Dr. Poffenberger was indignant. He repeated the story to as many of his patients as would listen, which was practically all of them.

Gus Olesen’s story reached the Prosecutor’s ears by way of Patrolman Chris Dorfman, Radio Division (one car). Patrolman Chris Dorfman had “happened” to drop into Gus Olesen’s place for a “coke” (he said), and Gus, “all het up,” had told him what Jim Haight had once said to him, Gus, on the occasion of a “spree.” And now Patrolman Chris Dorfman was all het up, for he had been wondering for weeks how he could muscle into the trial and take the stand and get into the papers.

“Just what is it Haight is supposed to have said, Chris?” asked Prosecutor Bradford.

“Well, Gus says Jim Haight a couple of times drove up to the Tavern cockeyed and wanting a drink, and Gus says he’d always turn him down. Once he even called up Mrs. Haight and asked her to come down and get her husband, he was raisin’ Cain, plastered to the ears. But the thing Gus remembers that I think you ought to get into your trial, Mr. Bradford, is when one night Haight was in there, drunk, and he kept ravin’ about wives, and marriage, and how lousy it all was, and then he said: ‘Nothin’ to do but get rid of her, Gus. I gotta get rid of her quick, or I’ll go nuts. She’s drivin’ me nuts!’ “

“Statements under the influence of liquor,” groaned Cart. ”Highly questionable. Do you want me to lose this case on reversible error? Go back to your radio car!”

Mr. Anderson’s story was simplicity itself. With dignity he told the New York reporter: “Sir, Mr. Haight an’ I have quaffed the purple flagon on many an occasion together. Kindred spirits, you understand. We would meet in the Square an’ embrace. Well do I recall that eventful evening in ‘dark December,’ when ‘in this our pinching cave,’ we discoursed ‘the freezing hours away’! Cymbeline, sir; a much-neglected masterwork . . . ”

“We wander,” said the reporter. ”What happened?”

“Well, sir, Mr. Haight put his arms about me and he said, Quote: ‘I’m going to kill her, Andy. See ‘f I don’t! I’m going to kill her dead!’ “

“Wow,” said the reporter, and left Mr. Anderson to go back to sleep on the pedestal of the Low Village World War Memorial.

But this luscious morsel, too, Prosecutor Bradford refused; and Wrightsville muttered that there was “something phony,” and buzzed and buzzed and buzzed.

The rumors reached Judge Lysander Newbold’s ears. From that day on, at the end of each court session, he sternly admonished the jury not to discuss the case with anyone, not even among themselves.

It was thought that Eli Martin had something to do with calling the rumors to Judge Newbold’s attention. For Judge Martin was beginning to look harried, particularly in the mornings, after breakfast with his wife. Clarice, who served in her own peculiar way, was his barometer for readings of the temper of Wrightsville. So a fury began to creep into the courtroom, and it mounted and flew back and forth between the old lawyer and Carter Bradford until the press began to nudge one another with wise looks and say “the old boy is cracking.”

* * *

Thomas Winship, head cashier of the Wrightsville National Bank, testified that James Haight had always used a thin red crayon in his work at the bank, and produced numerous documents from the files of the bank, signed by Haight in red crayon.

The last exhibit placed in evidence by Bradford¯a shrewd piece of timing¯was the volume Edgcomb’s Toxicology, with its telltale section marked in red crayon . . . the section dealing with arsenic.

This exhibit passed from hand to hand in the jury box, while Judge Martin looked “confident” and James Haight, by the old lawyer’s side at the defense table, grew very pale and was seen to glance about quickly, as if seeking escape. But the moment passed, and thenceforward he behaved as before¯silent, limp in his chair, his gray face almost bored.

* * *

At the close of Friday’s session, March the twenty-eighth, Prosecutor Bradford indicated that he “might be close to finished,” but that he would know better when court convened the following Monday morning. He thought it likely the People would rest on Monday.

There was an interminable conversation before the Bench, and then Judge Newbold called a recess until Monday morning, March the thirty-first.

The prisoner was taken back to his cell on the top floor of the Courthouse, the courtroom emptied, and the Wrights simply went home. There was nothing to do but wait for Monday . . . and try to cheer Nora up.

Nora lay on the chaise longue in her pretty bedroom, plucking the roses of her chintz window drapes. Hermy had refused to let her attend the trial; and after two days of tears, Nora had stopped fighting, exhausted.

She just plucked the roses from the drapes.

But another thing happened on Friday, March the twenty-eighth. Roberta Roberts lost her job.

The newspaperwoman had maintained her stubborn defense of Jim Haight in her column throughout the trial¯the only reporter there who had not already condemned “God’s silent man,” as one of the journalistic wits had dubbed him, to death.

On Friday, Roberta received a wire from Boris Connell in Chicago, notifying her that he was “yanking the column.”

Roberta telegraphed a Chicago attorney to bring suit against News & Features Syndicate.

But on Saturday morning there was no column.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Ellery Queen.

“Stay on in Wrightsville. I’m one of those pesky females who never give up. I can still do Jim Haight some good.”

She spent the whole of Saturday morning in Jim’s cell, urging him to speak up, to fight back, to strike a blow in his own defense. Judge Martin was there, quite pursy-lipped, and Ellery; they heard Roberta’s vigorous plea in silence.

But Jim merely shook his head or made no answering gesture at all¯a figure bowed, three-quarters dead, pickled in some strange formaldehyde of his own manufacture.