Don Gutteridge - Minor Corruption

With occasional, always gentle, prompts fromNeville Cambridge, Thurgood narrated the events surrounding thebotched abortion. He started by explaining that Betsy had been homefor three days to look after her sick mother, her first trip homesince she had started to work full-time at Spadina. Her motherrecovered and all seemed well until Betsy told them, on the thirdevening, of her suspected pregnancy. Then he spoke of sending forElsie Trigger, with great reluctance because she was known to drinkon occasion. But she was the midwife in their area and, he stressedseveral times, she was only summoned to examine the girl todetermine whether or not she was with child. “I’d’ve never let thatharridan anywheres near my precious Betsy otherwise!” he cried inhis only uncontrolled outburst. Marc saw several jurors nod insympathy. Childbirth and the goings-on associated with it were bothmysterious and frightening matters for most men.

Thurgood further mesmerized the jury with hispiteous account of how he and his wife discovered the girl indistress and bleeding. What to do? Dora Cobb was sent for, whilethey sat on either side of their stricken daughter watching thefever take hold. There was nothing faked or overblown about themisery in Thurgood’s face. However, from Marc’s point of view, theywere a long way from the rape, and Cambridge was taking a chance ongoing for the jury’s emotional jugular too soon. He had littlechoice, though, for he had opted to begin at the end of the storyand work backwards. What really puzzled Marc, though, was the factthat no mention was made of Mrs. Trigger’s dramatic exit. Cambridgemoved quickly past it to Dora Cobb. Her arrival and ministrationswere related in a calm and direct manner until Thurgood reached thegirl’s final moments.

“You must have realized your daughter wasnear death?” Cambridge prompted.

Thurgood nodded. “She was shakin’ with feverand Mrs. Cobb couldn’t get the blood to stop comin’. It washorrible.”

“Indeed it was, and all of us who are parentssympathize – ”

“Mr. Cambridge,” said Justice Powell. “Youknow better.”

Ah, nice, Marc thought. He went too far andgot interrupted at a critical moment.

“Tell us, sir, if you can bear to, about thelast minute of Betsy’s life.”

Thurgood’s lower lip trembled and theligaments in his neck stiffened with the strain of his reply: “Mywife and me had asked the girl many times who the father was, butshe wouldn’t tell us. Then Auleen, that’s my wife, she thought totry one more time before – before . . .”

“Betsy passed away?”

“Yeah.”

“Your wife asked her outright?”

Marc considered an objection, but held back.It was going to be a long trial and he would have manyopportunities to interrupt.

“She did. She said ‘Who is the father, Betsy.Tell us,’ or somethin’ like that.”

“Did Betsy, despite her fever anddeteriorating condition, hear those words?”

Marc got halfway to his feet, then sat backdown.

“Well, she answered ‘em.”

At this remark the jurors leaned forward,expectant.

“Who did she name as the father of heraborted child?” Most barristers would have delivered this climacticquestion with a melodramatic verve and a head-swing to draw thejury into the moment. Cambridge, however, asked it in anear-toneless whisper – which had the same effect.

“Her exact words were, ‘ Seamus’ – she saidthe name twice out loud. We all heard it, crystal clear.”

The gasps in the jury were drowned out bythose in the galleries. All eyes swung up to the huddled figure inthe dock.

“Were you shocked to hear this?”

“I was. And yet I wasn’t.”

“Why was that?”

“My Betsy was a maid up at Spadina where aMr. Seamus Baldwin lives.” Some of the latent scorn leakedout of Thurgood as he added, “Everybody knows that bigwigs arealways interferin’ with the hired help.”

“Milord!” Marc was on his feet.

The judge scowled at the witness. “Sir, youare to refrain from making remarks not called for by the questionsput to you. The jury will ignore that remark.”

And good luck to them , Marcsighed.

“So, with her dying breath your daughternamed the defendant, Mr. Seamus Baldwin , as the father ofher child?”

“She did.”

“Now, sir, I wish to take you back to anincident that happened earlier in the evening, one we skipped overbut one that is critical to the Crown’s case against SeamusBaldwin.”

“I was wonderin’ why you didn’t ask aboutthat.”

“Earlier you told how Mrs. Trigger was alonewith Betsy in her room for a long time. About twenty minutes, yousaid.”

“Yes, sir, that’s right.”

“Tell us now what, if anything, Mrs. Triggersaid to you and your wife in the kitchen just before she ranoff.”

Ah, Marc thought, Cambridge had kept thebusiness about the five-pound note until after the dramatic namingof the babe’s father. Very clever, that.

“She said that Betsy’d just had amiscarriage. And she had the gall to wave a five-pound note in ourfaces.”

“Did she say that Betsy had given it to herin payment for assisting in this ‘miscarriage’?”

“Not exactly, but we assumed she had.”

“Milord,” Marc said quietly.

“Your answer to the question, sir, shouldhave been a simple ‘no’,” the judge said sternly.

“At a later time, Milord, the Crown intendsto show a direct connection between the five-pound note and theaccused.”

“Proceed, then, Mr. Cambridge.”

“I have no more questions for the witness atthis time, but I would like to recall him when we are further intothe events at the centre of this trial.”

Marc stood up, adjusted his wig and as DickDougherty had done in the past, pretended to consult the notes infront of him. He realized that he must tread carefully with thiswitness, who had gained the jury’s sympathy immediately. He neededto probe without seeming to inflict further pain on a grievingfather.

“Mr. Thurgood, we have a witness-statementthat claims that while your daughter did speak the words ‘Seamus,Seamus,’ there was a third word in her response to your wife’squestion. Do you recall that word?”

Thurgood set his lower jaw, determined toresist any onslaught from the defense counsel. “She might’vemumbled somethin’ between the two ‘Seamuses.’”

“But you don’t recall the word?”

“No.”

“In what tone of voice did Betsy deliverthese final, fateful words?”

“I don’t know what ya mean!”

“No need to get upset, sir. I just meant wasthere a hint of accusation in her naming of the father? Or atenderness, perhaps?”

Neville Cambridge moved smoothly to his feet.“Milord, counsel is leading the witness.”

“Let the witness find his own words,” thejudge said to Marc.

“Mr. Thurgood, was your daughter notsuffering from loss of blood and a severe fever?”

Thurgood looked away, struggling to keep hisnatural belligerence in check. “’Course she was. Mrs. Cobb was setto wrap her with cold cloths.”

“And is it not usual for people experiencinga high fever to become delirious and disoriented – not quite surewhere they are or who they’re talking to?”

“I ain’t no doctor.”

“Isn’t it possible that Betsy, in her feverdelirium, did not hear or did not register the meaning of Mrs.Thurgood’s question?”

“Why would she answer it, then? Rightoff?”

Marc backed off, having pushed far enough andplanted some doubt in the jury’s mind. Dora Cobb would be up laterto expand upon this doubt.

“Sir, let’s move to your testimony about Mrs.Trigger’s hasty exit. You said she waved a five-pound note at youand referred to your daughter’s ‘miscarried’ babe?”