Jed Rubenfeld - The Interpretation of Murder

Younger stared. 'You have a phonographic memory, sir?'

'Yes. A useful skill for an analyst. You should cultivate it. I used to be able to recall conversations for months, but now it is only days. At any rate, I think you will find that it was Mrs Banwell herself who educated Nora about the nature of the act. I suspect she has taken the girl into her confidence, enlisting her sympathy. Otherwise Nora's feelings for her are inexplicable.'

'Nora's feelings for Mrs Banwell,' Younger repeated.

'Come, my boy, think of it. Instead of hating Mrs Banwell as she ought to have done, Nora has essentially accepted her as a mother substitute. This means that Mrs Banwell found a way to form a special bond with the girl, a remarkable achievement under the circumstances. Almost certainly, she confided her forbidden erotic secrets to Nora — a favorite means by which women achieve intimacy.'

'I see,' said Younger, glassily.

'Do you? It has undoubtedly made things harder for Nora. And it indicates a lack of scruple on Mrs Banwell's part as well. A woman will not confide such things in a girl whom she intends to keep innocent. Well, I can see there is something you wish to tell me, but you are too tired. It would do no good to speak of it now. We'll talk tomorrow. Go take your rest.'

Smith Ely Jelliffe sang an aria as he strolled into the Balmoral a little after eleven on Friday night. Tipping the doormen lavishly, he informed them, quite without having been asked, that he had spent the evening at the Metropolitan, in the company of a feminine creature of the best kind — the kind who knew how to occupy herself during an opera. His face shining, Jelliffe looked like a man convinced of the largeness of his own soul.

His glow was dimmed somewhat by the appearance of a young man in a threadbare suit blocking his path to the elevator. It was dimmed several shades further when the young man identified himself as a police detective.

'You're Harry Thaw's doctor, aren't you, Dr Jelliffe?' asked Littlemore.

'Are you aware of the hour, my good man?' replied Jelliffe.

'Just answer the question.'

'Mr Thaw is under my care,' Jelliffe acknowledged. 'Everyone knows that. It has been widely reported.'

'Was he under your care,' pursued Littlemore, 'here in town last weekend?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Jelliffe.

'Sure you don't,' the detective replied, beckoning to a girl who, ostentatiously attired, was waiting on a leather sofa at the other end of the marble lobby. Greta now approached. Littlemore asked her if she recognized Jelliffe.

'It's him, all right,' said Greta. 'Dr Smith. Came with Harry and left with him.'

That afternoon, before calling on the mayor, the detective had returned to his office, reread the trial transcript, and found Jelliffe testifying that Thaw was insane. When he saw in the transcript that Jelliffe's first name was Smith, he put two and two together. 'So, Dr Smith,' said Littlemore. 'Want to come clean here — or downtown?'

The detective did not have to wait long for a confession. 'It wasn't my decision at all,' Jelliffe blurted out. 'It was Dana's. Dana was in charge.'

Littlemore told Jelliffe to take them to his apartment. When they entered Jelliffe's ornate foyer, the detective nodded appreciatively. 'Boy, you got a lot to lose, Dr Smith,' Littlemore said. 'So you brought Thaw into town last weekend? How'd you do it, bribe the guards'

'Yes, but it was Dana's decision, not mine,' Jelliffe insisted.

He dropped heavily into a chair at his dining table. 'I only did what he said we should.'

Littlemore stared down at him. 'Was it your idea to take him to Susie's?'

'Thaw chose the house, not me. Please, Detective. It was a medical necessity. A healthy man can be driven insane at a place like Matteawan. Surrounded by lunatics. Deprived of normal physical outlets.'

'But Thaw is insane,' said Littlemore. 'That's why he's in the loony bin.'

'He is not insane. He is highly strung,' responded Jelliffe. 'He has a nervous temperament. No good is done by shutting up such a man.'

'Too bad you told them the opposite at the trial,' remarked Littlemore. 'This wasn't the first time you brought Thaw into town, was it? You had him here about a month ago, didn't you?'

'No, I swear it,' said Jelliffe. 'This was the first time.'

'Sure it was,' answered Littlemore. 'And how did Thaw know Elsie Sigel?'

Jelliffe denied ever having heard of Elsie Sigel until he read about her in the papers yesterday afternoon.

'When you took Thaw to Susie's,' Littlemore went on, 'did you know what he liked to do to girls? Was that a medical necessity too?'

Jelliffe hung his head. 'I had heard of his proclivities,' he mumbled, 'but I thought we had resolved them.'

'Uh-huh,' said Littlemore. The detective looked with disgust at Jelliffe's manicured fingernails gripping his immense waist.

'Before you went to Susie's that night, when you had Thaw here at your apartment, how long was he out of your sight? Did you leave him by himself? Did he go out? What happened?'

'Here?' said Jelliffe, anxious and confused. 'I would never have brought the man here.'

'Don't play with me, Smith. I got plenty enough already to make you an accessory to murder — before the fact and after.'

'Murder?' asked Jelliffe. 'Dear God. It can't be. There was no murder.'

'A girl was killed right here in this building last Sunday night, the same night you had Thaw in your apartment.'

Jelliffe's face was pale. 'No,' he said. 'Thaw came into the city Saturday night. I took the train to Matteawan with him myself Sunday morning. He was there Sunday and Monday as well. You can ask Dana. You can check the records at Matteawan. They'll prove it.'

Jelliffe's desperation sounded sincere, but Littlemore had contradictory evidence. 'Nice try, Smith,' he said, 'but I've got a half dozen girls who put you and Thaw at Susie's last Sunday. Isn't that right, Greta?'

'Yeah,' said Greta. 'Around one or two Sunday morning. Just like I told you.'

Littlemore froze. 'Wait a minute, wait a minute. Do you mean Saturday night or Sunday?'

'Saturday night — Sunday morning — same difference' was Greta's answer.

'Greta,' said the detective, 'I need to be sure about this.

When did Thaw come in, Saturday night or Sunday night?'

'Saturday night,' said Greta. 'I don't work Sunday nights.'

Littlemore was once more at a loss. The Thaw connection had loomed up again like a ten-ton sure thing. Everything pointed to it. But now Thaw was at Susie's the wrong night — the night before. 'I'm going to check those hospital records,' Littlemore said to Jelliffe, 'and you better hope you're right. Come on, Greta. We're going.'

Jelliffe, swallowing, hiked himself up in his chair. 'I should think you owe me an apology, Detective,' he said.

'Maybe,' said Littlemore. 'But if you ask me for it again, you'll do one to five at Sing Sing for conspiring in the escape of a state prisoner. Not to mention never practicing medicine again.'

For a second consecutive night, Carl Jung walked beneath Calvary Church across from Gramercy Park. This time, he carried his revolver in a pocket. Perhaps it gave him courage. Without wavering, he strode purposefully along the wrought- iron fence to Gramercy Park South, crossed the street, and walked straight toward the officer in front of the Actons' house. The policeman asked his business. Jung replied that he was looking for the theatrical club: could the officer direct him?

'The Players, that's what you want,' said the policeman. 'Number sixteen, four doors down.'

Jung knocked at the door of number sixteen and, when he mentioned Smith Jelliffe's name, was allowed in. The air was filled with music and feminine laughter. Now he was inside, Jung could not believe what a fool he had been, to come almost to the door of the place twice before and then turn tail. Imagine: a man of his stature frightened of entering a house where women could be had for money.