Caleb Carr - The Angel Of Darkness

“And Darrow’s engaged him?” Mr. Picton asked.

Marcus nodded. “My guess is, you’ll get a request for the gun and the bullets first thing in the morning, so Hamilton can run his own ‘tests’ on them.”

“But that’s ridiculous!” Lucius said. “Hamilton will say anything the people paying him want him to say!”

“Which is the easiest way to become a successful expert witness,” Mr. Picton grunted. “Anybody else?”

“Yes,” Mr. Moore answered. “And I do not like the possibilities involved with this one. Darrow wants somebody he can present as an expert on feminine psychology and character-someone fairly local, who the crowd’ll be familiar with and maybe even sympathetic to.” He turned to Miss Howard. “It’s your friend Mrs. Cady Stanton, Sara.”

“ Mrs . Cady Stanton ?”Miss Howard repeated.

“But she was there ,”Cyrus commented, looking worried. “When we had the sketch made-she knows we’ve been after the woman.”

“Exactly why Darrow wants her, I suspect,” Marcus said. “He’ll try to paint this as a witch-hunt on the Doctor’s part.”

“He won’t get far,” Mr. Picton pledged firmly. “Your earlier meeting with Mrs. Cady Stanton relates to another case, an unproved case that has yet to be officially investigated, and I can use that to our advantage here. If Darrow even hints at what you were up to in New York, I’ll get Judge Brown to slap him down for going outside the merits of this case.”

“Yes,” Miss Howard said, “but the fact that she knows we’ve been after Libby for so long is likely to make Mrs. Cady Stanton hostile-and she can be very persuasive when her blood’s up.” Considering the possibility, Miss Howard kicked at one of the posts that held up the roof of the porch. “ Damn it , that man’s clever.”

The Doctor had heard all of this, but hadn’t commented on it: he was too busy reading his note from Dr. White, which seemed to cause him much concern.

“More good news, Kreizler?” Mr. Moore asked, seeing the worried look on the Doctor’s face.

“It’s certainly not what I was hoping for,” the Doctor answered with a shrug. “White says that, given the circumstances, he doesn’t think it would be a good idea for us to meet before he’s given his testimony. It’s not the sort of attitude he would typically take.”

“Maybe not,” Mr. Picton said. “But it’s consistent-Darrow’s keeping a tight lid on everything and everyone connected to his case. I think he’s been a little surprised by how prepared we’ve been, and wants to make sure he can offer some surprises of his own in return. That’s certainly what we saw today.”

“Well, surprisingly enough, it seems that we don’t need to overreact to what happened today,” Marcus advised, heading inside. “At least, not according to the betting line at Canfield’s.”

“Where does it stand now?” Cyrus asked, following Marcus into the house.

“No change,” Mr. Moore called after them. “Still sixty to one against a conviction-and Canfield’s finding a lot of takers, even at those odds.”

Without moving his eyes from the note he’d received, the Doctor asked, “And how much did you lose while ascertaining that information, Moore?”

Mr. Moore headed for the screen door. “It could’ve been worse,” he said as he entered the house, in an embarrassed way what led me to believe that it couldn’t have been very much worse.

Still, expensive as it might’ve been, the news that them what were paying the most attention to the case-the heavy gamblers-didn’t think our cause had been hurt by Mr. Darrow’s antics of the afternoon was encouraging, and we were all able to sleep a little sounder, I think, because of it. Lucius was the last to turn in: he was due on the stand to talk about the circumstantial case against Libby Hatch the next morning, and he wanted to make sure he had all his ducks in a row before he let himself drift off. He was up early, too, and when I came downstairs I found him neatly dressed and pacing around the backyard, mumbling to himself and already sweating. Always cool as ice when it came to the business of investigation and scientific testing, he (much like my self) hated any kind of direct attention from crowds of strangers, and I think we all would’ve felt a little better if his much more diplomatic brother had been the one who was going to handle the testimony. But putting Marcus on the stand would’ve given Mr. Darrow the chance to hint, if not flat-out declare, that he’d been personally scouted by the prosecution prior to the trial, a fact that, while it certainly didn’t amount to anything illegal, might’ve been represented in a way what would’ve made us look desperate.

And so it was Lucius who, at just past ten, took the oath and sat in the witness chair, ready to reveal all the details about Daniel Hatch’s gun that he and his brother had put together during our stay in Ballston Spa. The courtroom had a different feel to it, now, one brought on by the new faces what were visible behind the defense table: Dr. William Alanson White, a young, short man with spectacles; Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, looking her best; and finally a peculiar-looking mug what tried to make up for his unimpressive size by puffing himself up like a rooster: “Dr.” Albert Hamilton, the well-known ballistics “expert.” Dr. White and Mrs. Cady Stanton only offered the most formal of greetings to those members of our party they knew, making it clear from the outset that they didn’t agree with what we were up to; and I don’t think the strained nature of the situation did anything to help Lucius’s nerves. Still, he held himself together very admirably, sitting and waiting to be questioned like he did it every day of his life.

In fact, during Mr. Picton’s questioning the detective sergeant came off something like impressive: he didn’t leave out any details, didn’t hesitate in his answers, and didn’t even sweat, or, at least, not much more than anyone else on that warm, humid August morning. In a funny kind of way I was proud of him, being as I knew how much he hated the position he’d been forced into; it wasn’t until the very end of his testimony that things started to get a little bumpy.

“Just a few more details, Detective Sergeant,” Mr. Picton said. “You’ve told us approximately when the revolver was last fired, how many shots were expended, how just two bullets could have been responsible for the wounds inflicted on the three children, and how closely the bullet removed from the Hatches’ wagon matches the barrel of Daniel Hatch’s gun. But was there anything you came across during your inspection of the weapon that might lead you to hazard a guess as to who fired it last?”

“Yes, there was,” Lucius answered quickly.

“And what was that?”

“We performed a dactyloscopy test. We compared the results to samples taken from household objects that belonged to the defendant. The match was perfect.”

Once again, Mr. Darrow was out of his chair like a shot. “I object to this line of questioning, Your Honor,” he said. “The state is attempting to enter evidence of a type that has never been accepted in an American court of law, and I’m sure they know it.”

“Quite right,” judge Brown replied, turning what was becoming his usual critical glance to Mr. Picton. “Unless the assistant district attorney is in possession of some new scientific data that establish fingerprinting-which, for the benefit of the jury, is what he’s talking about-as absolutely reliable, or unless he can provide me with a precedent for its being allowed in an American court, I cannot permit this testimony to continue.”

“Your Honor need not allow it to continue,” Mr. Picton said. “In fact, the state does not wish to continue. We acknowledge that fingerprinting is not yet accepted in American courts of law, despite the fact that it has been effectively used as evidence in courtrooms in Argentina-”