Alkire with an accusing finger, as if it were he in the dock, and asked, “Any reason you can’t be impartial in hearing the evidence in this matter?”
“No, sir.”
“Lincoln?” queried the judge.
Lincoln was tipped back in his chair, a look of calm disinterest on his face. “Seems fair enough to me,” he said.
“I agree,” said the judge. “Overruled.” He motioned impatiently for Alkire to continue forward to the jury box. “Next.”
And so it went. The twelve-man jury was seated before the bells struck for ten. It comprised six farmers, two merchants, and assorted tradesman—a reasonable selection of the county’s population, I thought, and as fair a jury as Lincoln and Patterson could hope to find.
Judge Thomas called for a short recess and stalked off the bench. As soon as the antechamber door closed behind him, the courtroom exploded with noise. The men in the audience cursed their misfortune at not having been selected for the jury; the men in the jury box cursed their misfortune at having been so. Martha and Jane traded nervous conversation. All were expectant.
CHAPTER 29
David Prickett stood alone in the well of the courtroom. He contemplated the jury through intense, unblinking eyes that peered out beneath thick eyebrows. He gave the barest of tosses to his billowing hair. He straightened his already straight back. He gave his shoulders a luxuriant roll. He tugged on the cuffs of his shirtsleeves and stretched out his powerful fingers. With every subtle movement, the jury leaned a little closer in anticipation. Finally, when the courtroom was on a razor’s edge, he opened his mouth.
“Gentlemen of the jury,” Prickett began, “I am called upon to bring to the view of the court and the jury the circumstances of three murders, each foul and unnatural. Three valuable citizens of our county, each pure in their morals, amiable in their conduct and deportment, and of spotless reputation, have fallen victim to a cruel assassin. Cut off in the prime of life, they have been rudely torn from the embraces of their loved ones. They have been consigned to the silent tomb.
“This is a case of murder three times. Three times the defendant Patterson made the evil decision to take up a deadly weapon. A knife. A paving stone. His own depraved hands. And three times the defendant Patterson made the evil decision to use that weapon to end the life of a treasured member of our community. Three times he committed murder. I regret, and once you’ve heard the evidence you’ll come to regret as well, that he can hang only once for his crimes.”
As Jane Patterson gave a gasp from beside me, the crowd murmured its approval. Jane clutched Martha’s arm with gloved hands. Her body was rigid with fear. Sitting next to Lincoln in front of us, Dr. Patterson seemed to draw in his breath.
“Let me be more specific,” Prickett continued, shifting his weight to his other foot and giving his hair another toss. “Let me be more graphic. It is my duty in this case to bring forth the facts on behalf of the People, and the facts of this case are unavoidably graphic. They are revulsive and graphic and disgusting. I know we have a number of the fair sex in the gallery today, and I have no right to tell you to leave, but I say to the gentlemen in the audience that I told Mrs. Prickett she was to stay away this week and I think many of you will want to give the same direction to your own wives.”
“Mrs. Prickett would stay away for all time if she had any sense,” Martha hissed into my ear. I motioned for her to remain quiet.
Prickett paused, as if giving time for weak-minded wives to decamp, but no one moved. Those lucky enough to have seats had lined up by the courthouse steps starting at seven in the morning. Everyone remained riveted to the prosecutor’s words.
“The graphic facts are these,” Prickett continued. “The defendant Patterson approached the first victim, the young woman Lilly Walker, in the private setting of her new home. The home she had just found as a shelter, a harbor, for her young, storm-tossed life. The defendant Patterson took up a knife and slashed Lilly’s throat. Slashed it with such violence that her life’s blood drained right out of her.” There were gasps from the crowd.
“The next victim was Lilly’s younger brother, a kind little boy, an orphan, a harmless chap by the name of Jesse.