An Unspeakable Crime

by Theresa Lorella

  Marshall nodded emphatically. “Patrick, I have approved and requested that you help me. While I can’t say I have the funds to guarantee payment personally, I will do all I can to see that Richard pays you. In the meantime I will see to your accommodations and comfort,” Marshall paused. “It would be a great help if you assisted me with this case, Patrick. While I remain confident that forcing the issue was not a mistake, I find I’m surprised by how much public enmity is being displayed against the Randolph's. It worries me—they may try this case on vitriol alone—and you are nothing if not…” he reddened about to say something less than polite.

  Henry laughed. It was true. “I am nothing if not vitriolic,” he smiled. “It is a personal style, John, and it has worked for me over the years.” Henry had won many a case not necessarily on the legal merits, but on the flamboyance of his argument. Not to say that said cases should not have been successful anyway, but juries preferred more than straight legal argument in Henry’s opinion. He had no qualms about the fact that a jury was an audience of sorts and it never served to bore your listeners with something as dry as an education in the law.

  “Yes, well, perhaps that is not the best word, but we have different styles and I feel that I need you, Patrick. Please say you will reconsider and join me.”

  It would seem that Mr. Marshall had more persuasive talent than he gave himself credit for having. Henry would say yes; he knew from the moment they asked him he would say yes. It was not because he wanted to defend this case, nor even for the elusive payment, although that was a huge motivator. No, Henry had a problem he had suffered from his entire career—he feared that if he said no to a single case, he would never work again. While that concern was diminishing considering Henry’s imminent (perhaps, someday) retirement from practice, there was also his worry that if he said no to any case, his colleagues would deem that he was scared, unable. Later in life Henry had discerned that the only person who really felt he was failing by saying no was Henry himself. Still, it was too shameful a feeling for him to deal with and so he never said no to a difficult case. No, Patrick Henry had been stuck with this case the moment Richard Randolph had walked in his door. And so, there was nothing left to do but pack his bags and prepare for court.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MARSHALL HAD ARRIVED AT Bizarre before Patrick Henry’s carriage pulled down the long drive to the nearly hidden farmhouse. Leave it to Marshall to appear to be the more prompt, more professional of the two. Henry might as well give up trying to outdo anything his famous co-counsel claimed as a talent. Including, apparently, getting to the middle of nowhere fast. Truly, Henry mused, Bizarre was remarkably remote for being in the rather well populated Cumberland County. It made it difficult to travel at essentially no notice to his client’s home to load him into a carriage bound for the courthouse. It was a feature of the plantation that Henry was finding irritating, along with its unique moniker. So unnecessary and pretentious; Henry preferred names that described the location. He was partial to something like “Red Hill,” his own farm’s name.

  The name “Bizarre” apparently referred to the odd shape of the house, but Henry would have been willing to bet that everything about the property and the people who inhabited it were, in fact, bizarre compared to the other citizens of the county. He had not gotten over Richard’s overt violation of his advice to contact the press. It was the one bit of advice he had offered after discovering that Marshall had supported voluntary prosecution. Yet Richard hadn’t listened to his second attorney. And what had his glorious news column gotten him after all? The justices had issued a warrant and not just for Richard, but also for Nancy. As charming as Marshall claimed she might be, Henry was not looking forward to meeting this young woman who seemed to be at the root of all of Richard’s problems. He had half a mind to tell the young man to do what he could to admit anything that was Nancy’s fault and hope that the justices would focus their ire upon her head. But Henry knew Richard had no intention of doing any such thing. He just wished he had arrived before Marshall so he could have the first go with Richard.

  Really, God only knew what Henry would have told Richard about his rash and reckless decision to disregard his legal advice. It would likely have gone nowhere, anyway. Frankly, it would have been better to fight a duel with one of Nancy and his wife's brothers than to have done what he did. Why, Henry wondered for the thousandth time of his career, why even bother hiring an attorney if you ignored his advice so completely? His five hundred pound advice, sterling. Five hundred pounds that Henry had yet to see. He inadvertently checked his pocket to ascertain that the signed promissory note for his services was still there. The opportunity may arise for him to discuss payment of fees during this visit. Payment before the inquest began, for instance.

  Perhaps harping too much on young Randolph wasn’t the best plan. Richard had clearly felt that the truth would somehow set him free. So either the truth doesn’t have has much power as they all hoped or Richard wasn’t telling the truth. Try as he might, Henry couldn’t think of why so many people would go to the trouble of corroborating details that would point very much to the fact that Nancy had been pregnant (by whom it was unclear) and that something had happened to that pregnancy at the plantation owned by the Harrisons (but was it a miscarriage or a murder?). At this point it was unclear exactly who was doing the talking and what they were saying. Henry worried that giving accusers the opportunity to testify would only strengthen the rumors they were spreading, allowing for open corroboration with other accusers. Everything could get much worse much faster than he and Marshall could control.

  This must scare him, Henry thought. But he doubted that Richard would regret having printed the broadside. In fact, it was likely that the young man would hold fast to the idea that it was right to let the public know his thoughts. Now, being called in to answer to the justices, he likely felt had a further chance to vindicate himself. How very naïve. It was probably much better that Marshall had made it to Bizarre first. Marshall was a much calmer attorney than Henry, a real thinker. Rather than worry over the fact they had lost control of their client even before the case had been filed, Marshall was likely crafting his legal argument, telling Richard his thoughts on potential outcome and legal nuances of his position. Henry was still trying to calm himself from having taken on such a volatile case with a client who insisted on going rogue. And with a client who likely had much more to tell about the night in question than what he had told either Marshall or Henry. Nobody was ever one hundred percent innocent. It would have been awkward if Henry had beaten his co-counsel to Bizarre that day.

  But should Henry ask Richard or Nancy (or both) what had truly happened was the real question that plagued Henry’s mind as he alighted from his sturdy but unadorned carriage. An elderly bondsman whose house livery had seen better days greeted Henry at the door. All of Bizarre seemed to have seen brighter times. Could it be that the tragedies of the house’s inhabitants had created a pallor over the entire property? Surely not, yet there was an energy to the place that set Henry on edge.

  In the small and sparsely furnished foyer, Judith greeted Henry. Richard’s wife, the wronged woman all around in the rampant rumors finally had a face. She was small and petite, fragile, but not beautiful. She likely had been pretty as a younger girl, but this young woman showed the signs of becoming aged before her years. Her features were pinched, her eyes were hardening. Perhaps there was hope yet, but Henry could see that this was a woman who had chosen to relish her misery. If that was all she was being offered, perhaps that was not wholly her fault.

  “Welcome to Bizarre, Mr. Henry. I am sorry to have to welcome you under such unfortunate circumstances.” Very polite words, Henry noted, but angry, almost sarcastic. “My husband is in his study with Mr. Marshall. I believe Nancy is in attendance as well.” Henry again had that feeling that something was wrong with this situation.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Randolph. Before I join the gentlemen… and your sister, perhaps I c
ould get some refreshments? I am afraid that the journey out here was rather longer than expected and I’m a bit parched.” Henry watched the young woman closely enough to see the flinch of discomfort cross her face. But despite her reluctance, good breeding won out and Judith graciously saw Henry into her parlor and called for a bondswoman to bring a light tea.

  “Thank you very much, Mrs. Randolph. I appreciate it.” Henry settled himself into a rather shabby chair and made an effort to look around the scantily furnished room, trying to find something to spark a conversation with the taciturn young lady sitting across from him. Unfortunately, Judith caught him out.

  “Pardon the state of Bizarre, sir. We have been down on our luck this season and I have had my hands full with our new son. I’m afraid that you may not find the house to be particularly stylish.” She smiled a wan, but seemingly genuine smile. Henry found her honesty to be both surprising and encouraging. Perhaps this would be easier than what he had been thinking.

  “It’s really just fine, Mrs. Randolph. I believe the luck of all Virginia planters packed its bags and left on a British ship in the War for Independence. I’m afraid that the economic situation for all Virginians since has been difficult.” For not the first time, Henry felt a pang of worry about the five hundred pounds Richard had not yet paid him. “I’m guessing Bizarre has been in the family for some time?” He wasn’t sure which side of the family, or if that even mattered when you married your cousins generation after generation.

  “Yes, sir. My husband’s family.” Henry kept his counsel and didn’t comment on whether his family was also her family. “His mother was a descendant of Pocahontas, did you know? She lived close to here.” As Judith recounted Richard’s particular family tree and how they came into ownership of Bizarre, Henry could see the light behind the woman’s eyes come close to ignition. She loved her husband, was proud of his heritage. The sudden infusion of warmth took ten years off of her face, made her almost pretty. It was a tragedy really, seeing the pain that was being imposed on this young woman.

  “You must have been quite pleased to have married and come into Bizarre,” Henry hoped he didn’t sound crass. “And how nice to bring your sister here.” It was obvious, but it was possible that Judith would welcome the opportunity to speak of the girl who was currently sitting with her husband and Henry’s illustrious co-counsel.

  “Yes, well, my father had remarried after we lost my mother. My stepmother has proven to be a… difficult woman. Nancy found herself without a home and no marriage prospects of her own. She has stayed with a few of our other siblings, but she seems to prefer Bizarre.” But did Judith prefer her presence, Henry wondered.

  “She has been a great help, especially with Richard’s dearly departed brother Theodorick, caring for him during his last hours. And it has been good to have her here to help with my son. He has been a challenging baby and Nancy is very good with him.” Henry left these facts as they were, to be considered more fully later.

  “Richard must be just fine having your sister here, even as it is another mouth to feed and all.”

  Judith paused as if considering Henry and his question before answering. “Yes, Mr. Henry. Richard seems quite content with having Nancy here.” The young woman looked up, found Henry’s eyes and held them. The look spoke more than her words. Henry couldn’t say if it was a threat or a plea.

  “How wonderful that your husband would be supportive of one of your siblings when she had no place to go.”

  “Yes, well, he is nothing if not supportive of Nancy.” She smiled at Henry. “And perhaps now it would make sense if you joined them in the other room, seeing as how that support has now transformed into my husband being charged with murder of my sister’s baby. We cannot forget the reason for your visit.”

  Well, Henry mused, Judith was not as pleased with her sister as she may let on to the public at large. She may also not believe Richard and Nancy were as innocent as she had been telling her friends and family, apparently operating as a one-woman counter rumor agent. Henry had to admit that it was good for his client that Judith had the restraint to understand that there was nothing to be gained from presenting a divided front to the outside world. There were clues to Judith’s true feelings, but she would not reveal them to outsiders anytime soon. Not exactly an ally, but not a great threat. That said, Henry would have to tell Marshall privately that under no circumstances should they call Judith to the stand on behalf of her husband. Her words were too emotionally charged, too ambiguous.

  She was jealous Henry realized with a sickening jolt.

  But jealousy did not necessarily mean that anyone was guilty of any wrongdoing. Henry had witnessed in his own family the phenomenon of one young woman being threatened by another young lady, regardless of whether said young lady was in any way posing a real threat. Richard was a polite young man, and it was possible that his equally young and emotional wife could construe incorrectly any attentions at all that him paid to her young sister. His wife who had just been pregnant and now had an infant to care for most of the day. Henry reasoned, Judith had valid reasons to have little patience for Nancy, regardless of her well-meaning ministrations.

  ******

  When Patrick Henry entered Richard Randolph’s study, he found that John Marshall had already passed a judgment of sorts on the young Randolph's in attendance. Henry had very much wanted to do so himself, but had found his welcome to Bizarre had taken something out of him. There was an air of sadness with this family that Henry found he didn’t want to add to with his own remonstrations. Best that Marshall took up that task. Still, he would have liked to have been the one to tell Richard that his thoughts about how the young man had so blatantly and completely, not to mention unsuccessfully, gone against his specific advice. Well, the letter to the newspaper was out there and they would have to deal with that. Why couldn’t people ever see how a heartfelt denial of guilt was just the other side of the coin of a full confession? Best to never say a word at all. And never say it in writing. And never, ever fall on the mercy of the gossip-loving public.

  Richard could not have made a more cardinal mistake as a new client. A mistake that also put someone else at risk, said someone being the young woman—girl really—who was hanging onto Richard’s arm, kneeling at his feet when Henry entered the room to greet Marshall and his client. Marshall looked up and made eye contact with Henry before the young people noticed his entrance. God help us, Marshall seemed to say with a slight shake of his head. God help us indeed, Henry nodded back, his eyebrows raised almost to the top of his head. It was no wonder that Judith hadn’t seemed thrilled with her sister’s presence. Perhaps there was something to the rumor, Henry mused. If so, this would be much more difficult than he had at first surmised, no dead body notwithstanding.

  “Good to see you, Mr. Henry,” Marshall greeted his co-counsel. Now he can pass this mess onto me, Henry smiled. As Henry prepared an official remark to greet his client, a furtive tug at his own arm caught Henry off guard. How the young woman had moved fast enough to get to him he did not know. He would have preferred a more normal introduction. He hated nothing more than the overly dramatic antics of those attempting to “show” their innocence; it was always too much, too saccharine for Henry’s tastes.

  “Please, Mr. Henry, please tell Mr. Marshall and Richard that I am going too. I will turn myself in. I will tell the justices the truth and then they will see that Richard is innocent. Please let me go with him!”

  “Nancy, that is enough,” Richard broke in. “You will do no such thing, my dear.” Henry sighed, letting his disgust with this scene show. “Nancy Randolph, I presume?” She nodded. Henry noted that Richard at least had the good sense to stay seated rather than come running after the pretty and persistent girl who was still hanging on Henry. “Might I ask what your sister thinks of your plan? She is your guardian, I presume?”

  It was a question meant to put Nancy in her place, to remind her of her position in this family. Henry hadn’t parti
cularly liked Judith Randolph, but he couldn’t help but see that regardless of truth, Judith was the real victim here: In the eyes of the public, her husband had betrayed her with her sister. Or, her sister had betrayed her with her husband. She was stuck on this odd, far-flung and aptly named farm with a tiny baby and Richard and Nancy who, regardless of innocence or guilt, were apparently both intent on acting the fool. Her sister should have the presence of mind to help Judith save face.

  “My poor sister, Mr. Henry! Don’t you see that if I can tell the judges what happened then I can vindicate Richard, and that would be so good for Judy. I want to help so badly!”

  Yes, that made perfect sense, at least on a human level. Legally it was a disaster. But it was the correct answer regarding the dour young woman in the room next door.

  “Miss Randolph, Mr. Henry will second exactly what I told you: If the judges find you guilty—of basically any of the charges against you—you would likely hang. We cannot allow you to take the stand. You must take our advice and stay at Bizarre. We have a much better chance with Richard alone.” Not to mention that Richard is our client, not Nancy, thought Henry. The two lawyers had no duty to Nancy and that may someday translate to making her the scapegoat, if one was needed. At least for the sake of argument, Henry qualified to himself.

  “Nancy my dear, you absolutely must take the advice of these fine gentlemen. They know what they are talking about.” Nancy turned back to Richard and reluctantly nodded her agreement. Henry caught Marshall’s eye over the two young people and nearly laughed at the hypocrisy of Richard. Do what I say, not as I do, apparently applied to this situation, Henry smiled to himself.

  “Mr. and Miss Randolph,” Henry couldn’t help himself, “Taking the advice of counsel is likely the wisest choice you will have taken in quite some time.”