Don Gutteridge - Minor Corruption

“Like saying they just love a certainneighbour or a favourite aunt or uncle?”

“Yes. I see what you mean. Like lovin’strawberries or ice cream?”

The jurors laughed politely, to Marc’ssatisfaction.

“Exactly. Young people use the word in avariety of ways, don’t they?”

“Milord, counsel is leading the witness.”

“You are, Mr. Edwards. Please move on.”

“In this note, Betsy refers to the addresseeas an ‘angel.’ ‘You’re an angel,’ she says. What does that suggestto you about her feelings towards this ‘uncle’?”

“Milord, the witness is in no position to -”

“I’ll allow it. Proceed, madam.”

“Well, it sounds like Betsy looked up to andadmired this person, and this person may have helped her and beenkind to her.”

“Like a guardian angel?”

“Yes. Betsy was always imaginin’ things andwritin’ stories about them.”

Marc was touched and pleased by AuleenThurgood’s naiveté and her trusting nature. With a chance to talkfreely about her dead daughter, she was taking full advantage ofit. Marc sensed that at home her opinions were neither sought norrespected. He could see Neville Cambridge out of the corner of hiseye trying not to grimace.

“She had certain people shehero-worshipped?”

“Well, she did go on and on about Mr. SeamusBaldwin after she’d come home from workin’ at Spadina in July andbefore she went up to work there steady.” Auleen looked down. “Shenever come home once after she started in – until I got sick.”

Marc realized that the jury had already madeup their minds about who the ‘uncle’ was and that if he were toprobe too hard to unsettle the witness, all would be lost. So helet the assumption lay where it had landed. At least he hadseriously weakened the Crown’s contention that this was alove-letter, and had planted the notion that Betsy was highlyimaginative and a hero-worshipper. At worst, the jury might see herfeelings as mere puppy-love, that worship from afar common toteenaged boys and girls.

“Now, Mrs. Thurgood, one more question andthen we’ll be done. This is a thank-you note but we are not toldwhat the five pounds was for. Did you recently require money for anoperation?”

Auleen was startled. Hesitantly she said,“No, sir. What would give you that idea? I just had thecroupe.”

“Well. madam, in the police report – ”

Cambridge was up like a shot. “No directpolice evidence has been put on the record yet, Milord!”

“Stop right there,” the judge said, givingMarc a long stare.

“Sorry, Milord. I have no more questions ofthis witness.”

In his rebuttal, all Cambridge could do washave the key points of Auleen’s initial testimony repeated. Marclooked behind him, and thought he saw Robert Baldwin smile. Twocould play at Cambridge’s game.

“Milord,” Cambridge was saying, “the Crownintends now to move on to phase two of its case and the specificsof the rape charge. The jury has heard a lot of testimony today.May I suggest we recess and begin phase two in the morning?”

Justice Powell, who looked far wearier thanthe jury, nodded and adjourned the court until ten o’clock Tuesdaymorning.

***

In chambers afterwards, the consensus was that theday had gone as well as could be expected. The Crown had set UncleSeamus up as a procurer of abortions and seducer of minors, andposited a direct link between the banknote, Seamus, Betsy and Mrs.Trigger. But Marc had succeeded in weakening each link in thischain. Nevertheless, the guile and dexterity of Neville Cambridgehad been fully displayed, and the rape incident was one where hehad much more ammunition – and an eye-witness.

“I went along and played the sly, subtle gametoday,” Marc said. “But it will have to be a different storytomorrow. The witnesses will not automatically have the jury’ssympathy. I’ll have no choice but to hammer each one of them hard.Cambridge will save Jake Broom to the end, and I want the jury tobe thinking of alternative versions and even alternative murdererslong before we get to him.”

“So, Marc, you intend to be ruthless,” Hinckslaughed, realizing how incongruous the words ‘Marc’ and ‘ruthless’were when conjoined.

“As ruthless as I can make myself be.”

“Just be careful, Marc,” Robert said.“Please.”

***

Marc tried to relax that evening, but couldn’t. Hehad gone over his notes numerous times, and knew what his approachto each witness would be. But Cambridge was an unpredictable andgifted prosecutor. Beth talked Marc into playing whist with Dianaand Brodie in their spacious new parlour. But Marc couldn’tconcentrate, and finally the other three switched to cribbage.

Tuesday morning dawned bright and warm, acontinuation of the Indian summer that seemed now to mock thesombre proceedings within the austere, regal Court House. Theside-galleries were once again full, with a crush of disappointedcitizens outside on the esplanade.

First up was Sol Clift. His testimony was, inthe onlookers’ view, a dull narrative of how five mill-hands spenttheir lunch hour on the day of the alleged rape. Tall and slim, butmumble-mouthed, he told the court what he had told Cobb about thecomings and goings during that fateful luncheon: how Betsy hadarrived at twelve with her father’s lunch, chatted briefly withthose present (Burton Thurgood, Joe Mullins, Jake Broom, SethWhittle and himself), and then left. He went on to say that Sethand Burton had left early (at twelve-thirty according to the bigclock in the office) to repair the damaged sluice at the weir, thatJoe Mullins had left to go for a stroll and a smoke about fiveminutes later, and that about ten to one Jake Broom had excusedhimself, saying he wanted to check on a sick horse in the barn. Solhimself, left alone, finished his lunch and returned to the millfor his afternoon shift. All pretty dull stuff. Surely the defensecounsel would have little to say about this testimony.

Marc looked sternly across at the witness andsaid bluntly, “You say you returned to work sometime aftertwelve-fifty when Broom left for the barn. Did anybody see you doso?”

Clift was startled, near panic. “I don’t knowwhat you mean . . . I – ”

“Was anyone in the mill when you returned toit, sir?”

“Why, how could there be? Seth and Burton wasat the milldam, and the other men’d left the office and themill-buildin’.”

“So we only have your word for it that youwent straight back to work?”

Clift’s eyes widened. “Where – where elsewould I go?”

“To the barn perhaps?”

Clift gasped and spluttered out, “I neverwent near there!”

“Did you not tell Constable Cobb that fromwhere you sat in the office, you could see Betsy leave theproperty?”

“I did, but – ”

“And that she did not cross the road butrather turned to the right and headed north, where the barnis?’

“I did see her go that way, but – ”

“And that you, and others in that office,knew she loved horses?”

Clift was now terrified, and looked guilty of something.

“She’d sneak out to the barn to feed ‘emcarrots, I knew that. But I’d never harm her! Never!”

“Yet you have no-one to vouch for the factthat you – knowing Betsy was heading out towards the barn – did notmove swiftly through the mill, encounter the girl and – ”

“Milord! This is intolerable!” Cambridge wasclose to losing his well-honed aplomb.

“Take it easy, Mr. Edwards. Let the witnessanswer before firing further questions at him.”

“I have no more questions for the witness,Milord,” Marc said, and sat down, with his stomach churning. Forthe first time Cambridge looked across at his opponent. Hisexpression was unreadable. He nodded, and the dazed and miserableSol Clift was allowed to stumble off the stand.