East of Orleans (44 page)

Read East of Orleans Online

Authors: Renee' Irvin

BOOK: East of Orleans
13.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Oh no, it was a very confusing situation. There was no accounting for Miss Rousseau or who was living with her in that house,” said Annalee.

“Would you say that Miss Rousseau was operating a house of entertaining gentlemen?”

One of Jacqueline’s lawyers jumped up. “Objection, your honor, Mr. Jones is leading the witness!”

“Objection sustained. Mr. Jones, please do not lead the witness,” said the judge.

“Yes sir. Mrs. Hancock, you have stated that you witnessed Jesse Rucker, a Negro man, employed by Jules and Isabella McGinnis load a blood soaked sheet into the back of Mrs. McGinnis carriage on the morning Jacob Hartwell went missing.”

“Yes sir, I sure did.”

“And you also stated that this took place in the back courtyard of Jacqueline Rousseau’s residence, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“That’s all, Mrs. Hancock, for now,” said Noble Jones.

An attorney for the defense approached the witness and said, “Mrs. Hancock, you have testified that you saw Jesse Rucker load a sheet that was stained with blood into the carriage of Mrs. Isabella McGinnis, is this correct?”

“Yes sir, that is what I said.”

“At any time, did you see what was rolled up in the sheet?” asked the defense attorney.

“No sir, I did not,” said Annalee Hancock.

“So, Mrs. Hancock, am I correct in saying that, other than what you
think
you saw—.”

“Objection! Counsel for the defense is leading the witness,” said Noble Jones.

“Objection sustained, please do not lead the witness,” said the judge.

Jacqueline’s attorney continued. “Mrs. Hancock, is it not true that you did not take the information about what you saw on the morning of Jacob Hartwell’s disappearance to the police until after his body was found?”

“Well, yes, that is true, but—.”

“That’s all, Mrs. Hancock, you may step down now,” said the defense attorney.

The state then called Jesse Rucker to the stand. Jesse was sworn in and then Noble Jones proceeded to question him. “Mr. Rucker, may I call you Jesse?”

“Yes sir,” said Jesse.

“Jesse, you have heard Mrs. Annalee Hancock swear under oath that she saw you load a blood-soaked sheet into the back of Isabella McGinnis’s carriage on the morning of Jacob Hartwell’s disappearance,” said Noble Jones, “Did you kill Jacob Hartwell?”

“No sir, I did not,” said Jesse.

“Did Isabella McGinnis kill Jacob Hartwell?”

“No sir, she did not!” said Jesse.

“Well, if you didn’t kill Jacob Hartwell and Isabella McGinnis did not kill him, who is left? Mr.Rucker, would you not admit that Jacqueline Rousseau killed Jacob Hartwell that morning?”

“No, nobody killed Jacob Hartwell dat morning,” Jesse said.

“Jesse, how many times would you say that you’ve visited Miss Rousseau’s house?”

“Two or three,” said Jesse.

Annalee Hancock and Lucy Baker had left the courtroom, but they were among those outside peeking in to get a better view. Noble Jones leaned over to speak to Jesse in a soft tone.

“On those two or three times, did you go alone to Miss Rousseau’s?” Jesse sprang up from his seat and the courtroom was filled with gasps.

“Your Honor, Mr. Jones is leading the witness in a very inappropriate manner,” Jacqueline’s attorney cried out.

“Very well. Mr. Jones, re-phrase your last question please,” said the judge.

“Yes, your Honor. Mr. Rucker, would you please tell the court the nature of your other visits to Miss Rousseau’s?” asked Noble Jones.

“Yes sir. Miz Isabella is a friend of Miss Jacqueline’s and I took her there on a visit dat’s all,” said Jesse.

“I see,” said Noble Jones. “Jesse at anytime during your employment with either Mr. or Mrs. McGinnis, did either one of them ever ask you to do anything outside your employment, anything that you would have considered wrong or that you would have hesitated about?”

“No sir, not ever,” said Jesse.

“Can you tell me why you went with Mrs. McGinnis to the home of Jacqueline Rousseau that morning?”

“Yes sir, Miz Isabella was worried about Miz Jacqueline and wanted to go over and make sure that she was all right.”

“And why would she not have been all right?” asked Noble Jones.

“Because Miz Isabella heard Mr. Jules give Mister Hoyt permission to go over to Oglethorpe and put Miz Jacqueline out of her house.”

“And why did Mr. McGinnis want to put Miss Rousseau out of her own house?” asked Noble Jones.

There was rumbling in the courtroom, Jesse glanced at Isabella and then said, “Because Mister Jules was mad dat dey burned his field of cotton,” said Jesse.

“When you say ‘they’ you mean Mrs. McGinnis and Miss Rousseau?” asked Noble Jones.

“Yes, dat’s who I mean,” said Jesse.

“No further questions for this witness, your Honor.”

“You may be excused Mr. Rucker,” said the judge.

“The state calls Jules McGinnis to the stand,” said Noble Jones.

“Mr. McGinnis
, will you please explain to the court what your relationship is to Mrs. Jacqueline Rousseau O’Brien,” said Noble Jones.

Priscilla clutched at Isabella’s skirt. Tom Slaughter stared, unblinking at Jules McGinnis. Was it possible, thought Isabella, that Jules was going to reveal his affair with Jacqueline here, now, before all the people in this court? No,—it wasn’t possible. Jules would never do that. Isabella knew that no matter how much Noble Jones interrogated Jules, he would never admit anything that he didn’t want to.

“Mrs. O’Brien is a dear friend and I brought her home,” said Jules.

Noble Jones turned his head, looked at the jury, and then back at Jules. “Excuse me, Mr. McGinnis, but did you say you brought her home? Her meaning Mrs. Jacqueline Rousseau O’Brien?”

“That’s what I said,” said Jules.

Noble Jones took a few steps toward Jules and said in a low tone, “Is Mrs. O’Brien a native of
Savannah
, Mr. McGinnis?”

“No.”

“Then will you explain to the court what you mean by you brought her home?”

A dead silence filled the courtroom. Jules exhaled and sank back in his chair. “Mrs. O’Brien’s mother left her at a port in
New Orleans
when she was a very small child. After many years of being abused by the woman that she was left to, she fled to find a safer place; somewhere she could finally call home. I felt
Savannah
was a place where she would never have to worry about what had happened to her as a child ever again, and I promised her a home here,” said Jules.

“I see,” said Noble Jones, “so the court could assume that you and Miss Jacqueline Rousseau shared a familiar relationship, is that correct? And this “friendship” that you had with Miss Rousseau, was it of an intimate nature?” asked Noble Jones. Not the slightest sound was heard in the courtroom. Jacqueline sat frozen in her seat and Kate stirred. Jacqueline’s lawyer started to speak, but the judge raised his hand.

Jules eyebrows went up. “Well, it depends, on how you define intimate.”

“Mr. McGinnis, did you have sexual relations with Mrs. O’Brien?” asked Noble Jones.

“No, I never had sexual relations with Mrs. O’Brien,” said Jules with a sly grin. The courtroom full of people laughed.

“I’ll re-phrase that question. Did you ever have sexual relations with Jacqueline Rousseau?”

“Objection!” said Jacqueline’s attorney.

“Overruled,” said the judge. “Mr. McGinnis, please address the court.”

“Oh hell, Noble, you’ve seen Mrs. O’Brien, do you think I’m crazy?” asked Jules.

The men in the courtroom laughed. The ladies exchanged nervous glances and tittered.

“So that’s a yes, Mr. McGinnis?” asked Noble Jones.

“If you’re asking me if I ever made love to a woman I loved, a beautiful woman that I would have given my life for, named Jacqueline Rousseau, then the answer is yes.”

Jacqueline broke down and cried.

“Mr. McGinnis, is it true that Jacob Hartwell was your son?” asked Noble Jones.

Isabella turned her eyes away from Jules.

Jules raised his brow and said. “It’s possible, Jacob Hartwell could have been my son.”

Mae yelled out, “Possible, hell, you no good bastard!”

The judge banged his gavel. “Miss Patterson, please be seated or I will charge you with contempt of court if you have any more outbursts in my courtroom!”

“Mr. McGinnis, did you ever ask your wife, Isabella, who the father of her daughter was?” asked Noble Jones. The question was too much for Isabella. She got up and ran out of the courtroom.

Jules stood up, red faced and said, “You sorry sonofabitch, you’re taking this too far!”

“Mr. McGinnis, please be seated! Another outburst and I’ll have to charge you with contempt of court,” said the judge.

“Is it possible, Mr. McGinnis, that Jacob Hartwell could have been the father of Jacqueline O’Brien’s daughter?” asked Noble Jones.

“No, no, that is not possible!” cried out Jacqueline as she jumped up from her seat.

“Mrs. O’Brien, please remain seated and no more outbursts in this courtroom or I will charge you too with contempt of court,” said the judge.

“Your honor, if I had of known of any of the pain that Jacob caused either my wife or Mrs. O’Brien, I would have killed him myself,” said Jules.

“But you did not, did you Mr. McGinnis?” asked Noble Jones. “Your Honor that’s all the questions I have at the present time for this witness.”

“Mr. McGinnis, you may be dismissed. The court will recess until nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” said the judge, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. “Court adjourned!”

Isabella had been walking for over an hour when an arm reached out for her. She turned around and looked into Tom’s face. She felt nothing but despair.

He found her down by the river. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

She did not raise her head. He bent down and removed her shoes and rubbed her feet.

“Do you suppose you’d want to get something to eat with me?” he asked.

“Why did you come here?” she asked.

“I’m a journalist, why do you think?” he said with a serious face, but then he burst out laughing.

Her eyes filled with tears. She stood up and Tom studied her. Standing there in the sunlight, she looked so much like the girl he used to spend hours with on the
Chattahoochee
River
. He turned to walk away and then he said, “You’d better come on, I hear there’s some real big snakes down here near this river bank; a lot bigger than the ones we have at home.”

Isabella jumped up and ran after Tom. He grinned, but didn’t glance back—as always, he knew she was behind him.

“Good lord, Tom Slaughter, can you walk any faster? What did you ask me for if you were gonna go off and leave me?”

Tom stopped and turned around. For a moment they stood still, and then he kissed her.

“Jules catches us doing this and he’ll put us in the swamp,” she said.

“Do I look like I’m worried,” he said pulling her against his body and kissing her hard on the mouth.

Other books

Let There Be Suspects by Emilie Richards
The Cowboy's Baby by Linda Ford
Walking on Glass by Alma Fullerton
Redneck Nation by Michael Graham
Soul Mates by Watier, Jeane
Daddy & His Little Baby by Jade K. Scott
Bargain Hunting by Rhonda Pollero