Caleb Carr - The Angel Of Darkness

“And when you woke up the second time?”

“Mama was next to my bed. With the doctors.”

“Did your mama tell you anything?”

“She said that we’d all been attacked-by a man. A crazy man. She said he’d killed Matthew and Tommy.” Tears now slowly streaming down her face again, Clara added, “I started to cry. I wanted to see my brothers, but Mama said-I couldn’t ever. Ever again…”

“I see,” Mr. Darrow told her. Then he pulled a handkerchief-one what was a lot neater than the clothes it’d been concealed in-out of his breast pocket. “Would you like to use this?” Clara took the white piece of linen and wiped her face. “Clara, how long after that did your mama go away?”

“Soon. I think. I don’t know, not for sure.”

“But was she with you all that time before she left?”

Clara nodded. “Her and Louisa-our housekeeper. The doctors, sometimes, too. And Mr. Picton visited.”

“I’m sure he did,” Mr. Darrow said, looking over at the jury. “And what did your mama tell you before she went away?”

Stealing another look at Libby, Clara answered, “That she had to go find us a new place to live. So we didn’t have to live in that house. It was too sad, she said-Dada was dead, and Tommy and Matthew, too. She told me she’d find a new place, and come back to take me away when she did.”

“And did you believe her?”

“Yes.”

“Did you usually believe your mama?”

“Yes. Except-”

“Except-?”

“Except when she got mad sometimes. Then, sometimes, she would say things that-I didn’t believe her. I don’t think she meant them, though.”

“I see,” Mr. Darrow said, turning his body away from her without moving from his spot on the floor. “So-the last things you now remember about that night on the Charlton road are your mama touching you with a gun, then pulling the trigger-and after that there was a loud noise?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t remember it when you woke up?” Clara shook her head. “And you can’t remember anything about what happened to Tommy and Matthew?”

“I didn’t-I didn’t see -what happened.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“And so your mama went away, and you went to live with Mr. and Mrs. Weston-is that right?” Clara nodded. “And did you remember anything about what happened that night during the time you lived with them?”

“Not-” Here Clara worked very hard, pretty obviously to remember something. “Not so’s I could talk about it. Or show it. Only so’s I could see it. In my head.”

Mr. Darrow spun quickly to the girl, causing her to start a bit and try, without success, to look at the Doctor. “That’s quite a mouthful, for a little girl. Not so’s you could talk about it or show it , but so’s you could see it in your head . You think of that all by yourself?”

Clara looked down quickly. “It’s the way it was.”

“Did you think of that all by yourself, Clara?” Mr. Darrow repeated. Then, without waiting for an answer, he moved in closer. “Or isn’t it in fact true that Dr. Kreizler led you to see it that way, and told you to use those words when it came time to tell the story in court?”

Mr. Picton was out of his chair like the seat was lined with hot coals. “Your Honor, the state protests! We asked for special treatment of this witness, and what do we get? Leading and badgering!”

Before the judge could answer, Mr. Darrow was holding up a hand. “I will withdraw the question, Your Honor, and try to make my questions more palatable to the state.” Again smiling at the witness, Mr. Darrow asked, “Clara, when did you first start to remember what happened that night? I mean, remember it so that you could talk aboutit?”

Clara shrugged, her face looking even more worried after the short but sharp exchange between the lawyers. “Not too long ago, I guess.”

“ Before you met Dr. Kreizler?” Clara reluctantly shook her head. “ After you met Dr. Kreizler?” Clara didn’t move. “Or was it when you met Dr. Kreizler?”

Mr. Picton was up again. “Your Honor, with all due respect, which question does the learned counsel from Illinois wish the witness to answer?”

“Sit down, Mr. Picton,” Judge Brown replied. “The counsel for the defense is within his rights.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Mr. Darrow said. “Well, Clara?”

“I never forgot,” the girl answered, more tears coming as she did. “I never forgot, not really.”

“And what didn’t you forget? You never knew what happened to Tommy and Matthew, that’s fine, you’ve told us that. So you couldn’t and don’t remember it. But what did you know that you didn’t forget?”

“I never-” Looking up at the bench pleadingly, Clara said, “I don’t know what he means.”

“I mean , Clara,” Mr. Darrow went on, being a little firmer now, “what was it that you know that you never forgot, and what was it that you know that you forgot and only remembered not too long ago?”

Her body shaking once, Clara finally let out a sob as she looked from the judge to Mr. Darrow, and then tried to peer around the lawyer at the Doctor, who, for his part, was also desperately attempting to get himself into position to be seen by her.

“What the devil?” the Doctor whispered. “He’s deliberately attempting to confuse her-”

“I don’t understand!” Clara said again, openly crying now.

“Clara,” Mr. Darrow went on, “it’s very simple-”

“It’s not!” the girl cried. “I don’t understand-”

“Which is which?” Mr. Darrow said, surprising everyone in the room by letting his voice get stern, even a bit harsh. “What did you always know, and what did you forget but remember not too long ago, perhaps at about the time that you met Dr. Kreizler-and perhaps when you met Dr. Kreizler? Clara! You must-”

“ Stop it !”a voice called out, silencing both the lawyer and the mumbling what had started in the galleries. The entire room turned to the defense table, where Libby Hatch was, like her daughter, in tears. “Leave her alone!” she shouted at Darrow. “You can’t treat her like this, not with what she’s been through. If she doesn’t remember, then she doesn’t! Stop browbeating my child! Stop it-stop!” Throwing her face into her hands, Libby collapsed onto the table as the crowd started to hum like a hive again, causing Judge Brown to smash his gavel down.

“The defendant will get herself under control!” he ordered. “And so will the galleries! Mr. Darrow-the court would like to know-”

“If it please the court, Your Honor,” Mr. Darrow said quickly. “The defense will forgo the remainder of its questions to this witness. Under the circumstances, we ask for an adjournment until tomorrow morning.”

The noise of the crowd grew louder at that, and the judge set to rapping away. “Silence! I won’t have another sound!” As his order began to take effect, the judge set his gavel aside, looking very displeased. “The witness is excused,” he called. “And court is adjourned until ten o’clock tomorrow morning-at which time I’d better see some radically different behavior, or I will close these proceedings!” A final rap, and Bailiff Coffey moved to help Clara-who was weeping heavily now-down out of the witness box. Mr. Picton rushed over to lend a hand, but the little girl’s tormented eyes were fixed on her apparently devastated mother.

“Don’t cry, Mama!” Clara called once more as she was led away. But her tone was very different, now: all the grown-up quality was gone, and the desperation in her words was underlined by the weight of her sobs. “Don’t cry, it’s going to help you! It’s supposed to help you, they told me-”