Calamity Town (26 page)

‘I saw no such gesture or motion.'

‘And you were watching for that, Mr Queen?'

‘Exactly.'

‘That's all,' said Judge Martin in triumph.

The newspapers all agreed that Mr Ellery Queen, who was in Wrightsville seeking material for a new detective story, had seized upon this hell-sent opportunity to illuminate the cause of dark letters with some national publicity. And Bradford, with a grim look, rested for the People.

The week end intervened, and everybody involved in the case went home or to his hotel room or, as in the case of the out-of-town newspaper people, to their cots in the lobby of the Hollis; and all over town people were agreeing that it looked black for Jim Haight, and why shouldn't it—he did it, didn't he? The roadhouses and taverns were jammed over the week end, and there was considerable revelry. On Friday night, however, the unofficial committee for the defense of James Haight met again in the Wright living room, and the atmosphere was blue with despair. Nora said to Ellery, to Judge Martin, to Roberta Roberts: ‘What do you think?'—painfully and without hope; and all they could do was shake their heads.

‘Queen's testimony would have helped a great deal more,' growled old Judge Eli, ‘if that jury weren't so dad-blamed set on Jim's guilt. No, Nora, it looks bad, and I'm not going to tell you anything different.' Nora stared blindly into the fire.

‘To think that you've been Ellery Queen all along,' sighed Hermy ‘I suppose there was a time when I'd have been thrilled, Mr Queen. But I'm so washed-out these days—'

‘Momsy,' murmured Lola, ‘where's your fighting spirit?'

Hermy smiled, but she excused herself to go upstairs to bed, her feet dragging. And after a while John F. said: ‘Thanks, Queen,' and went off after Hermy, as if Hermy's going had made him a little uneasy.

And they sat there without speaking for a long time, until Nora said: ‘At least, Ellery, what you saw confirms Jim's innocence. That's something. It ought to mean
something
. Heavens,' she cried, ‘they've got to believe you!'

‘Let's hope they do.'

‘Judge Martin,' said Roberta suddenly. ‘Monday's your day to begin howling. What are you going to howl about?'

‘Suppose you tell me,' said Judge Martin.

Her glance fell first. ‘I have nothing to tell that could help,' she said in a faint voice.

‘Then I
was
right,' murmured Ellery. ‘Don't you think others might make better judges—' Something crashed. Pat was on her feet, and the sherry glass from which she had been sipping lay in little glittery fragments in the fireplace, surrounded by blue flames.

‘What's the matter with
you?
' demanded Lola. ‘If this isn't the screwiest family!'

‘I'll tell you what's the matter with me,' panted Pat. ‘I'm through sitting on my—sitting around and imitating Uriah Heep. I'm going to
do
something!'

‘Patty,' gasped Nora, looking at her younger sister as if Pat had suddenly turned into a female Mr Hyde.

Lola murmured: ‘What in hell are you babbling about, Patticums?'

‘I've got an idea!'

‘The little one's got an idea,' grinned Lola. ‘I had an idea once. Next thing I knew I was divorcing a heel and everybody began to call me an amptray. Siddown, Snuffy.'

‘Wait a moment,' said Ellery. ‘It's possible. What idea, Pat?'

‘Go ahead and be funny,' said Pat hotly. ‘All of you. But I've worked out a plan, and I'm going through with it.'

‘What kind of plan?' demanded Judge Martin. ‘I'll listen to anyone, Patricia.'

‘Will you?' jeered Pat. ‘Well, I'm not talking. You'll know when the time comes, Uncle Eli! You've got to do just one thing—'

‘And that is?'

‘To call me as
the last witness for the defense!
'

The Judge began in bewilderment: ‘But what—?'

‘Yes, what's stewing?' asked Ellery quickly. ‘You'd better talk it over with your elders first.'

‘There's been too much talk already, Grandpa.'

‘But what do you think you're going to accomplish?'

‘I want three things.' Pat looked grim. ‘Time, last crack at the witness stand, and some of your new Odalisque Parfum, Nora…Accomplish, Mr Queen?
I'm going to save Jim!
' Nora ran out of the room, using her knitting as a handkerchief. ‘Well, I will!' said Pat, exasperated. And she added, in a gun-moll undertone: ‘I'll show that Carter Bradford!'

26

Juror Number 7

‘We will take,' said old Eli Martin to Mr Queen in the courtroom Monday morning, as they waited for Judge Newbold to enter from chambers, ‘what the Lord provides.'

‘Meaning what?' asked Ellery.

‘Meaning,' sighed the lawyer, ‘that unless providence intercedes, my old friend's son-in-law is a fried squab. If what I've got is a defense, may God help all petitioners for justice!'

‘Legally speaking, I'm a blunderbuss. Surely you've got some sort of defense?'

‘Some sort, yes.' The old gentleman squinted sourly at Jim Haight, sitting near by with his head on his breast. ‘I've never had such a case!' he exploded. ‘Nobody tells me anything—the defendant, the Roberts woman, the family…why, even that snippet Patricia won't talk to me!'

‘Patty…' said Ellery thoughtfully.

‘Pat wants me to put her on the stand, and I don't even know what for! This isn't law, it's lunacy.'

‘She went out mysteriously Saturday night,' murmured Ellery, ‘and again last night, and she came home very late both times.'

‘While Rome burns!'

‘She'd been drinking Martinis, too.'

‘I forgot you're something of a sleuth. How did you find that out, Queen?'

‘I kissed her.'

Judge Martin was startled. ‘Kissed her? You?'

‘I have my methods,' said Mr Queen, a whit stiffly. Then he grinned. ‘But this time they didn't work. She wouldn't tell me what she'd been doing.'

‘Odalisque Parfum,' sniffed the old gentleman. ‘If Patricia Wright thinks a sweet
odeur
is going to divert young Bradford…He looks undiverted to me this morning. Doesn't he to you?'

‘An immovable young man,' agreed Mr Queen uneasily.

Judge Martin sighed and glanced over at the row of chairs inside the railing, where Nora sat with her little chin raised high and a pallid face between her mother and father, her gaze fixed beggingly upon her husband's motionless profile. But if Jim was conscious of her presence, he made no sign. Behind them the courtroom was jammed and whispery.

Mr Queen was furtively scanning Miss Patricia Wright. Miss Patricia Wright had an Oppenheim air this morning—slitted eyes, and a certain enigmatic expression about the mouth Mr Queen had kissed in the interests of science the night before…in vain. Perhaps not quite in vain…

He became aware that Judge Eli was poking his ribs. ‘Get up, get up. You ought to know something about courtroom etiquette! Here comes Newbold.'

‘Good luck,' said Ellery absently.

The first witness Judge Martin called to testify in defense of Jim Haight was Hermione Wright. Hermy crossed the space before the Bench and mounted the step to the witness chair if not quite like royalty ascending the throne, then at least like royalty ascending the guillotine. On being sworn, she said ‘I do' in a firm, if tragic, voice. Clever, thought Ellery. Putting Hermy on the stand. Hermy, mother of Nora. Hermy, who of all persons in the world except Nora should be Jim Haight's harshest enemy—Hermy to testify for the man who had tried to kill her daughter! The courtroom and jury were impressed by the dignity with which Hermy met all their stares. Oh, she was a fighter! And Ellery could detect the pride on the faces of her three daughters, a queer shame on Jim's, and the faint admiration of Carter Bradford.

The old lawyer led Hermione skillfully through the night of the crime, dwelling chiefly on the ‘gaiety' of the occasion, how happy everyone had been, how Nora and Jim had danced together like children, and incidentally how much Frank Lloyd, who had been Bradford's chief witness to the events of the evening, had had to drink; and the Judge contrived, through Hermy's helpless, ‘confused' answers, to leave the impression with the jury that no one there could possibly have said for certain what had happened so far as the cocktails were concerned, let alone Frank Lloyd—unless it was Mr Ellery Queen, who'd had only one drink before the fatal toast to 1941.

And then Judge Martin led Hermione around to a conversation she had had with Jim shortly after Jim and Nora returned from their honeymoon—how Jim had confided in his mother-in-law that Nora and he suspected Nora was going to have a baby, and that Nora wanted it to be kept a secret until they were ‘sure,' except that Jim said he was so happy he couldn't keep it in any longer, he had to tell someone, and Hermy wasn't to let on to Nora that he'd blabbed. And how ecstatic Jim had been at the prospect of being father to Nora's child—how it would change his whole life, he said, give him a fresh push towards making a success of himself for Nora and the baby—how much he loved Nora…more every day.

Carter Bradford waived cross-examination with almost a visible kindliness. But there was a little whiff of applause as Hermy stepped off the witness stand.

Judge Martin called up a roll of character witnesses as long as Judge Newbold's face. Lorrie Preston and Mr Gonzales of the bank, Brick Miller the bus driver, Ma Upham, young Manager Louie Cahan of the Bijou, who had been one of Jim's bachelor cronies, Miss Aikin of the Carnegie Library—that
was
a surprise, as Miss Aikin had never been known to say a kind word about anybody, but she managed to say several about Jim Haight despite the technical limitations of ‘character' testimony—chiefly, Ellery suspected, because Jim had patronized the Library in the old days and broken not a single one of Miss Aikin's numerous rules…The character witnesses were so many, and so socially diversified, that people were surprised. They hadn't known Jim Haight had so many friends in town. But that was exactly the impression Judge Martin was trying to make. And when John F. clambered to the stand and said simply and directly that Jim was a good boy and the Wrights were behind him heart and soul, people remarked how old John F. looked—‘aged a lot these past couple of months, John F. has'—and a tide of sympathy for the Wrights began to creep up in the courtroom until it was actually lapping Jim Haight's shoes.

During the days of this character testimony, Carter Bradford maintained a decent respect for the Wrights—just the proper note of deference and consideration, but a little aloof, as if to say: ‘I'm not going to badger your people, but don't expect my relationship with your family to influence my conduct in this courtroom one iota!'

Then Judge Martin called Lorenzo Grenville. Lorenzo Grenville was a drippy-eyed little man with hourglass cheeks and a tall Hoover collar, size sixteen, out of which his neck protruded like a withered root. He identified himself as a handwriting expert.

Mr Grenville agreed that he had sat in the courtroom from the beginning of the trial; that he had heard the testimony of the People's experts regarding the authenticity of the handwriting in the three letters alleged to have been written by the defendant; that he had had ample opportunity to examine said letters, also undisputed samples of the defendant's true handwriting; and that in his ‘expert' opinion there was grave reason to doubt James Haight's authorship of the three letters in evidence.

‘As a recognized authority in the field of handwriting analysis, you do not believe Mr Haight wrote the three letters?'

‘I do not.' (The Prosecutor leers at the jury, and the jury leers back.)

‘Why don't you believe so, Mr Grenville?' asked the Judge.

Mr Grenville went into punctilious detail. Since he drew almost exactly opposite conclusions from the identical data which the jury had heard the People's experts say proved Jim Haight
had
written those letters, several jurymen were not unnaturally confused; which contented Judge Martin.

‘Any other reasons for believing these letters were not written by the defendant, Mr Grenville?'

Mr Grenville had many which, edited, became a question of composition. ‘The phrasing is stilted, unnatural, and is not like the defendant's ordinary letter style at all.' Mr Grenville cited chapter and verse from Haight letters in evidence.

‘Then what is your opinion, Mr Grenville, as to the authorship of the three letters?'

‘I am inclined to consider them forgeries.'

Mr Queen would have felt reassured, but he happened to know that a certain defendant in another case
had
written a check which Mr Lorenzo Grenville just as solemnly testified to be a forgery. There was no slightest doubt in Ellery's mind about the Haight letters. They
had
been written by Jim Haight, and that's all there was to it. He wondered what Judge Martin was up to with the unreliable Mr Grenville.

He found out at once. ‘Is it your considered opinion, Mr Grenville,' purred Judge Eli, ‘that it would be easy, or difficult, to forge Mr Haight's handwriting?'

‘Oh, very easy,' said Mr Grenville.

‘Could
you
forge Mr Haight's handwriting?'

‘Certainly'

‘Could you forge Mr Haight's handwriting
here and now?
'

‘Well,' said Mr Grenville apologetically, ‘I'd have to study the handwriting a while—say two minutes!'

Bradford was on his feet with a bellow, and there was a long, inaudible argument before Judge Newbold. Finally, the Court allowed the demonstration, the witness was provided with pen, paper, ink, and a photostatic copy of one of Jim Haight's acknowledged samples of handwriting—it happened to be a personal note written to Nora by Jim on the Wrightsville National Bank stationery, and dated four years before—and the courtroom sat on the edge of its collective seat. Lorenzo Grenville squinted at the photostat for exactly two minutes. Then, seizing the pen, he dipped it into the ink, and with a casual air wrote swiftly on the blank paper. ‘I'd do better,' he said to Judge Martin, ‘if I had my own pens to work with.'