was,” he finished, staring at Will.
The crowd murmured in agreement. Lucy saw several jurors nod their heads as well. This was not good.
Will sat motionless. Adam nudged him, gently at first, and then harder when he failed to move. “Oh, right.” William gulped. “Do you know, for sure, that it had to have been a man who inflicted those wounds upon”—here he stumbled over Bessie’s name—“the girl?”
The physician stroked his beard. “To my mind, ’twas too violent an act to have been wrought by a mere girl. To betray her own sex in such a way! However, I have seen enough criminal travesties in my time to say that such a thing, though thoroughly unnatural and unbefitting the gentler sex, could have transpired. Yes, it might well have been a woman. Although I think that unlikely.”
The jury nodded again. Other witnesses were called, including several tavern customers who detailed how William had been angry that day, and how they had seen the couple arguing early that afternoon. They saw him shake her until “her head did near shake off.” Even more damning were the witnesses who had been at the pub later in the day. They all claimed that Will said he was out for Bessie’s blood.
Throughout all the testimony, a great angry red flush colored Will’s face and neck. Adam appeared to be taking notes. Once or twice, Lucy saw Adam press Will’s arm, warning him to be careful with the words he spoke, so as not to incriminate himself before the judge and jury. Dutifully, with each witness, William posed the questions that Adam whispered to him, showing holes in each person’s testimony.
When a woman stood up and claimed that Bessie’s finger had appeared to point to Will, Adam tersely had Will read the original pamphlet, where that same woman claimed the finger had pointed to the magistrate’s son. Lucy could not believe that such an unnatural story could be used as evidence, yet it was duly entered into the court record, with the notation that the woman had switched her story.
Finally, Richard Cuthbert’s name was called. The onlookers craned their necks and began to whisper, knowing that he was the key witness. He was the one who heard Will say that he would kill Bessie with his own hands. He was the one they were waiting for, to condemn Will to his death.
Richard sat down, sullen and cocky. The constable asked him to explain what had happened the night of the murder. “Me and him got into a bit of a fight,” he said, nodding shortly at William.
“What were you and the accused fighting about?”
Richard grinned, smacking his lips. “I told him that I’d seen some pictures of the git he’d been keeping company with.”
“Is that when he struck you?” the constable asked.
Richard scowled. “No, it was what I said about the other one,” he muttered, losing his bravado.
“The other one?” Duncan asked. The conversation was clearly not going as he expected.
“Yeah. I made another comment about the other girl I’d seen him with. Quite a fine one. Didn’t know she was his sister.”
Lucy felt her face flush as a few people turned to look at her. She recognized some of her neighbors, their faces lit up by this tidbit. Gossipy old hags.
The judge leaned toward Richard, with a warning in his own voice. “Do you mean to say, young man, that you said something lewd about the defendant’s sister? Lucy? A lass that I know for myself to be a decent good girl? And that’s when the defendant hit you? In defense of his sister’s good name?”
“Yeah,” Richard muttered again. Seeing the disappointment on her neighbors’ faces, Lucy couldn’t help feeling smug about being in the judge’s favor.
“So,” Duncan continued, trying to bring the questioning back on track, “that’s when you got into the fight. What did he say to you afterward?”
“Nothing.”
The constable gestured impatiently. He pulled out a flimsy piece of paper. “Do you recall stating to me that the defendant had said, “‘I’m going to kill her, Bessie. Yeah, I’m going to murder that lying whore’?”
“No, I don’t remember saying that.”
William looked at Adam in surprise. Adam only lifted one eyebrow, his eyes steady on the liveryman.
The judge looked at Richard accusingly. “Do not mock this court of law, young man. Did you hear the defendant say that or not?”
“No. I didn’t hear him say it.”
The constable wiped his sweaty brow with his cap. “Richard Cuthbert,” he said sternly. “Did you or did you