The Just And The Unjust (7 page)

Seeing them whisper, Harry Wurts smiled. He said to Doctor Hill, 'What bones would that bullet strike in passing through the body?'

'It would not strike any. It did not pass through any. It passed posterior to the clavicle and anterior to the scapula.'

'Now, just say that in English, if you will.'

Abner glanced again at Mrs. Zollicoffer. She had taken out a handkerchief; unfortunately, a gesture also possible to those whose anguish was neither irrepressible nor even real. The show of real feeling was, of course, all right for Bunting's purpose; but thanks to that feeble mind of hers, Mrs. Zollicoffer might not get the benefit of it. On the stand Harry would certainly show that she was a liar, and so false in everything. She had told Bunting the absurd lie that she did not know what her husband's business was; and when you thought of all the trouble that wilful piece of stupidity was going to make, it was difficult to feel much sympathy for her.

Clasping his shoulder, Harry Wurts said, 'I don't know whether I'm any different from that body, but when I feel my shoulder, I feel a bone wherever I feel. What I am trying to find out is how this bullet could pass through here and not strike any bone.'

'I tried to explain to you, Mr. Wurts.'

'You said a shot through the shoulder could not strike any bone?' Bunting, who was drawing a face on the pad before him, left it with one eye and said, 'Oh, no. He didn't say that.' Doctor Hill said, 'Mr. Wurts, the bullet entered the flesh and passed through the fleshy part of the lungs and lodged in the flesh again between the fifth and sixth ribs.'

'That bullet did,' said Harry. 'That bullet, although it encountered nothing but flesh, lodged. The other bullet, the one you did not recover, was obliged to pass through the hard bony skull, the brain, and came out below the angle of the jaw.' He stood delicately poised, balanced on his toes. His voice had a sudden, cocky, assertive note, and Abner looked at him, astounded. He looked at Bunting, but Bunting was biting his lip; and, jolted, Abner had to admit his own slow-wittedness in only then grasping the bold manœuvre. Harry said coolly, 'How do you try to account for one bullet having so much more force than the other? I suppose you admit it must have had?'

The play on Doctor Hill's conceit of knowledge and touchiness about his dignity was perfect. Unable to help his witness, Bunting winced; and Doctor Hill said with asperity, 'I do not "try'' to account for it, Mr. Wurts. I account for it without difficulty. There is no reason to suppose that one bullet had more force than the other. The longer passage through the tissues of the body would add up to offer more resistance than the relatively short passage through the head. The skull is only relatively hard, Mr. Wurts. A bullet fired at it point blank, at close range, would be retarded very little.'

Harry Wurts said, 'Do you mean to tell me that bullets of identically the same calibre, from identically the same gun, could behave so differently?'

'I do, indeed,' said Doctor Hill.

'Then in your opinion both bullets came from the same gun?'

'No, Mr. Wurts, I did not say that. I —'

'You said both could have come from the same gun.'

'Why, yes. I see no reason why not —'

'You see no reason why not. That is all.'

Bunting said, 'Just a moment, Doctor.' To Abner he said, 'We'll have to show he doesn't know anything about it.'

'Have trouble without crossing him,' Abner said. He saw Harry, back in his seat, looking at them with amusement.

'Yes,' said Bunting. 'You're the goat. When Harry kicks, I'll cover you with the Judge as well as I can. It's better that way, because you couldn't cover me. See?'

'Yes,' said Abner. 'Want me to barge right in?'

'Might as well.'

Abner got up and walked around to the witness stand. He paused a moment, wishing he could find a way to do it cleverly; like Harry Wurts, to make Doctor Hill out of his own self-importance, apparently of his own accord, declare now, with the same pompous insistence, that though one shot came from one gun (Bailey 's), the other probably came from another (presumably Basso's). However, if you tried being clever and failed, you were worse off for being caught at it than if you never tried. Abner said as disarmingly as he could, 'I believe that you said that the wounds made by these separate bullets were somewhat similar. Did you reach that conclusion from the diameter of the bullet holes?'

'Diameter,' said Doctor Hill, 'yes.'

'Did you judge just by eye?' Abner said, and caught himself up, waiting in apprehension. Bunting would see that it was a dumb question. You should know the answers when you questioned your own witness; and, for all Abner knew, Doctor Hill had some scientific form of measurement which might show that they were not merely similar but exactly the same. To his relief, Doctor Hül said, 'Just by eye. But—'

Abner cut in, speaking quietly, trying to offer, along with the question, a sort of encouragement or reassurance that Doctor Hill might take as a sign that he should assent, 'You are not, of course, an expert in bullet wounds, Doctor?'

'Oh, now!' said Harry. He laughed out loud. 'I object! He can't cross-examine his own witness! I never heard of such a thing!'

'Your Honour,' said Bunting, 'the Commonwealth simply is clearing up a line of questioning Mr. Wurts opened and then, having established a very misleading impression, tried to drop.'

'He can't continue my cross-examination!' Harry said. 'What is your witness? Ignorant? Unwilling? Perjuring himself? I don't know any other grounds.'

Bunting said, 'I think it is the province of the Court, and not of Mr. Wurts, to decide what questions may be put. We respectfully ask his Honour to rule.'

'He may answer,' Judge Vredenburgh said. 'There is no prejudice to the defendants if the witness states whether or not he is an expert on gunshot wounds.'

'I ask an exception,' said Harry Wurts.

'Exception granted,' said Judge Vredenburgh. 'Proceed, Mr. Coates.'

Abner said, 'Are you an expert in bullet wounds, Doctor Hill?'

'I never said I was,' said Doctor Hill. He gave Abner an offended look.

'Or in the calibre of bullets?'

'I don't pretend to be, Mr. Coates.'

'That's all, thank you.'

'If you please!' said Harry Wurts, starting up. 'You have had experience in examining bullet wounds, have you not, Doctor?'

I have examined them, yes.' Doctor Hill plainly viewed this deferential approach with suspicion. He felt that the Commonwealth was now against him, and Harry for him; and he had no idea what was going on. Resentful, he suspected that a plot to impair his dignity had been joined.

'More than once?' said Harry Wurts.

'More than once. Certainly.'

'You were a doctor in the army, were you not?'

'During the last war. Yes.'

'You saw gunshot wounds then?'

'Yes. I have also seen a certain number during the hunting season.' The jury laughed.

Judge Vredenburgh said, 'That is no laughing matter,' but he smiled.

Harry Wurts smiled too. 'In short, Doctor,' he said, 'when you answered the question of the learned assistant district attorney you meant that while you did not pretend to know it all —'

Bunting said, 'I object to counsel's telling the witness what the witness means.'

'Correction,' Harry Wurts said. 'In short, Doctor, your experience has familiarized you perfectly with bullet wounds?'

'I think I may say that I am familiar with them.'

'When you stated that, in your opinion, the wounds, bullet wounds, in Frederick Zollicoffer's body were the same size, that was a conclusion you formed on examining and comparing the wounds at the time of the postmortem?'

'Quite so.'

'And you are still of the same opinion?'

'I am.'

'I have no more questions,' Harry Wurts said.

Bunting said, 'That is all, Doctor
Hill
.' He looked at the clock above the door to the Attorneys' Room. He said to Abner, 'Quarter of four.' He looked at his list of witnesses. 'I think we could get through with Mrs. Z. if she behaves herself. If she makes a mess of it, it would be all to the good if Harry can't cross-examine until to-morrow morning. We'll let Cholendenko wait.' Ida Cholendenko, the Zollicoffers' servant, had presented a little problem. Though, in one sense, her testimony corroborated Mrs. Zollicoffer 's, she could testify to events preceding by a few minutes on that night of the kidnapping anything Mrs. Zollicoffer could testify to.

Abner said, 'There's this about it, Marty. If Harry wrecks Mrs. Z., it would be handy to have Cholendenko. She could straighten some of it up; and I don't think Harry could do a thing with her.'

'We'll need her,' Bunting said. He turned and looked sharply at Mrs. Zollicoffer, pushed his chair back, and arising, called out her name. To Abner, he said, 'Look through that folder and get what she said about the telephone calls. Just lay it open so I can look at it if I need to.'

Mrs. Zollicoffer sat first in the row of the Commonwealth's witnesses, with Mrs. Meade in the tipstaffs chair beside her. Mrs. Zollicoffer hesitated, dazed and quailing; and Mrs. Meade confirmed Abner's guess. Mrs. Meade, with gentle solicitude, arose and helped Mrs. Zollicoffer to arise. Though she did no more than her duty, her duty now served the Commonwealth in a way the record would not show. The jurors all looked at Mrs. Meade, who made a good figure. Her white hair was tidily waved. Mrs. Meade wore a blue skirt, and a blue jacket which did not differ from the jacket the men wore, with the word
tipstaff
embroidered on the sleeve, and the silver badge pinned to the breast; but Mrs. Meade wore with it a white blouse with a lace-edged open collar, pretty and neat. She was the widow of a former clerk of the Orphans Court, and came of good people, and looked it. Sympathetically showing Mrs. Zollicoffer how to go, even giving Mrs. Zollicoffer's arm a reassuring pat, Mrs. Meade offered in evidence her opinion that Mrs. Zollicoffer was an unfortunate, unhappy woman who should be treated considerately. Because of Mrs. Meade's official position, her lady-like appearance, and the fact that she was well known to all or most of the jurors, her evidence was at once accepted as excellent. Though, subsequently, the jury might themselves observe, or hear other people say, things to change the picture, a general prepossession in Mrs. Zollicoffer's favour would remain, mysteriously breaking the force of good arguments against her, persistently suggesting that, even so, how could you be sure?

Mrs. Zollicoffer passed behind the jury; and Malcolm Levering, from the tipstaff's seat at the end by the door of the Attorneys' Room, came to meet her. The two state police officers drew back to make more room, and Malcolm gave her an encouraging smile, bobbing his mostly bald head politely, half offering his arm, which she did not take, half shooing her along to the steps of the witness stand. He remained a moment while she dragged herself up them. Nick Dowdy had come in behind Joe Jackman's desk and proffered his Bible. Mrs. Zollicoffer stood dazed; so Nick indicated, with a gesture, that she should put her hand on the open page. He reeled off the oath and looked at her inquiringly, nodded himself, to show her that she should nod, and said, 'Your name, please?' She whispered something, and Nick turned away, saying loudly, 'Marguerite Zollicoffer.'

Joe Jackman twisted in his chair, looking up from the light on his ruled paper, and said, '-g-u-e-r-i-t-e?'

Starting at the unexpected voice from an unexpected direction, she nodded, continuing to stand; and Judge Vredenburgh said, 'You may sit down.'

Bunting, who had been looking at her closely, his sharp nose up, his eyes narrowed, came down before the jury and said to her, 'Mrs. Zollicoffer, where do you live?'

Running through the piled folders of notes and stenographic transcripts, Abner had found the conversations about the telephone calls. He twitched the open folder around and pushed it up to the edge of the table behind Bunting.

Bunting said evenly, in a mild clear voice with the slight stiffness of good control that betrayed to Abner, who knew of it, but probably to no one else, the annoyance and contempt he felt, 'You are the widow of the late Frederick Zollicoffer?'

Mrs. Zollicoffer's appearance, the black clothes, the gaunt but regular features, the faded blonde (and not, as you would have expected, in any way retouched) hair that showed under a simple, and even becoming, hat, spoke for her, just as Bunting hoped; but now, speaking against her, was something else, like her appearance, like Mrs. Meade's solicitude, not part of the record, yet incontestably part of the evidence. In the office it had not seemed so apparent; but here, set off by silence, her speaking voice was bad. Abner saw the change in one or two members of the jury as they recognized, surprised and then displeased, strong traces of a tough and uneducated accent.

The jurors were plain or homely speakers themselves, indifferent to grammar and disdainful of elegant pronunciations; but that particular accent of Mrs. Zollicoffer's served as a reminder that she, like all the rest of these people, came from the city. With irritation the jury heard the foreigners, the people from somewhere else, having their presumptuous say. Justice for all was a principle they understood and believed in; but by 'all' they did not perhaps really mean persons low-down and no good. They meant that any accused person should be given a fair, open hearing, so that a man might explain, if he could, the appearances that seemed to be against him. If his reputation and presence were good, he was presumed to be innocent; if they were bad, he was presumed to be guilty. If the law presumed differently, the law presumed alone.

Bunting said, 'And did you see your husband, Frederick Zollicoffer, on the night of the sixth of April?'

'No, sir.'

'Do you know of your own observation whether your husband returned to your home that night?'

Bunting had been at pains to go over this part of it with her, explaining to her what the question meant, and what the Court would and would not allow her to answer. She hesitated, and Abner knew that there was a good chance she would either forget or deliberately answer as she pleased. She said finally, 'No, sir.'