Evan Hunter - Lizzie

“Mr. Moody,” Mason said, “the Court desires to have restated the limitations or purpose for which the testimony is offered.”

“There is no purpose of offering this testimony for any other use than as bearing upon the state of mind of the defendant prior to the homicide — the intent, the deliberation, and preparation. And for that, or any part of it which Your Honors may suggest it has a natural tendency to prove... we offer it.”

“We will withdraw for consultation,” Mason said.

Robinson smiled.

Lizzie saw the smile and read it to mean that her attorney felt confident about the judges’ eventual ruling; Eli Bence, the druggist, would not be allowed to continue with his testimony.

Idly she plucked a withering pansy from the cluster she held in her lap.

Her face showed no expression whatever.

My name is Alice M. Russell, and I live in Fall River. I don’t know how long I’ve lived here. A good many years. I’m unmarried, used to live in the house now occupied by Dr. Kelly, lived there just eleven years. During all that time, the Bordens occupied the house just north. I was well acquainted with all of the family — Mr. Borden, Mrs. Borden, Miss Emma Borden and Miss Lizzie Borden. I occasionally had calls from Lizzie, and I went to her house as well. Whenever I called at her house, she received me upstairs, in what’s called the guest room, used it for a sitting room while I was there.

On Wednesday night, August third, of last year, Lizzie Borden came to visit me. I’m not sure what time it was, I think about seven. Sometime in the evening. She came alone, as far as I saw, stayed with me until nine, or five minutes after, as near as I know. We talked together about various subjects. I think when she came in she said, “I’ve taken your advice, and I’ve written to Marion that I’ll come.” I don’t know what came in between, I don’t know as this followed that, but I said, “I’m glad you’re going,” as I’d urged her to go before...

“Be kind enough to speak a little louder, if you can,” Robinson said.

“Shall I repeat that?”

“If you please. Because I didn’t hear it.”

... I said, “I’m glad you’re going.” I’d urged her before to go, and I didn’t know she’d decided to go. I said, “I’m glad you’re going.” And I don’t know just what followed, but I said something about her having a good time, and she said, “Well, I don’t know, I feel depressed. I feel as if something was hanging over me that I can’t throw off, and it comes over me at times, no matter where I am.” And she said, “When I was at the table the other day, when I was at Marion, the girls were laughing and talking and having a good time, and this feeling came over me, and one of them spoke and said, ‘Lizzie, why don’t you talk?’ ”

I don’t remember of any more conversation about Marion. Whether there was or not, I don’t remember. The conversation went on, I suppose it followed right on after that. When she spoke again, she said, “I don’t know, father has so much trouble.” Oh, wait, I’m a little ahead of the story. She said, “Mr. and Mrs. Borden were awfully sick last night.”

And I said, “Why? What’s the matter? Something they’ve eaten?”

She said, “We were all sick. All but Maggie.”

“Something you think you’ve eaten?”

“We don’t know. We had some baker’s bread, and all ate of it but Maggie, and Maggie wasn’t sick.”

“Well, it couldn’t have been the bread,” I said. “If it had been baker’s bread, and all ate of it but Maggie, and Maggie wasn’t sick. If it had been baker’s bread, I should suppose other people would be sick, and I haven’t heard of anybody.”

And she said, “That’s so.” And she said, “Sometimes I think our milk might be poisoned.”

“Well,” I said, “how do you get your milk? How could it be poisoned?”

“We have the milk come in a can,” she said, “and set on the step. And we have an empty can. They put out the empty can overnight, and the next morning when they bring the milk, they take the empty can.”

“Well, if they put anything in the can,” I said, “the farmer would see it. What time does the milk come?”

“About four o’clock.”

“Well, it’s light at four. I shouldn’t think anybody would dare to come then and tamper with the cans. For fear somebody would see them.”

“I shouldn’t think so,” she said. “They were awfully sick, and I wasn’t sick, I didn’t vomit. But I heard them vomiting and stepped to the door and asked if I could do anything, and they said no.”

I think she told me they were better in the morning, and that Mrs. Borden thought they’d been poisoned, and went over to Dr. Bowen’s — said she was going over to Dr. Bowen’s. And... I can’t recall anything else just now. Of course she talked about something else, because she was there two hours, but I can’t think about it. Well, about trouble with tenants, yes.

She said, “I don’t know, I feel afraid sometimes that father’s got an enemy. He has so much trouble with his men that come to see him.” And she told me of a man that came to see him, and she heard him say — she didn’t see him, but heard her father say — “I don’t care to let my property for such business.” And she said the man answered sneeringly, “I shouldn’t think you’d care what you let your property for.” And she said her father was mad and ordered him out of the house.

She told me of seeing a man run around the house one night when she went home, I’ve forgotten where she’d been. “And you know the barn’s been broken into twice,” she said.

And I said, “Oh, well, you know that was somebody after pigeons. There’s nothing in there for them to go after but pigeons.”

“Well,” she said, “they’ve broken into the house in broad daylight, with Emma and Maggie and me there.”

“I never heard of that before,” I said.

“Father forbade our telling it,” she said.

So I asked her about it, and she said it was in Mrs. Borden’s room, what she called her dressing room. She said her things were ransacked, and they took a watch and chain and money and car tickets, and something else, I can’t remember. And there was a nail left in the keyhole, she didn’t know why that was left. I asked her if her father did anything about it, and she said he gave it to the police but they didn’t find out anything. And she said her father expected they would catch the thief by the tickets, “Just as if anybody would use those tickets,” she said.

“I feel as if I want to sleep with my eyes half-open,” she said. “With one eye open half the time. For fear they’ll burn the house down over us. I’m afraid somebody will do something. I don’t know but what somebody will do something,” she said. “I think sometimes, I’m afraid sometimes, that somebody will do something to him, he’s so discourteous to people. Mrs. Borden told him she was going over to Dr. Bowen’s, and father said, ‘Well, my money shan’t pay for it.’ She went over to Dr. Bowen’s, and Dr. Bowen told her — she told him she was afraid they were poisoned — and Dr. Bowen laughed and said No, there wasn’t any poison. And she came back, and Dr. Bowen came over. I was so ashamed, the way father treated Dr. Bowen. I was so mortified.”

That’s all I can remember about our talk on the night before the murders.

My name is Martha Chagnon, I live on Third Street. My yard’s right in the rear of the Borden yard. There’s a fence between my yard and the Borden house, and a corner there where there’s a doghouse. On the night preceding the Borden murders, I heard a noise...