An Unspeakable Crime

by Theresa Lorella

  MH: Sir, I do not recall, all I know was that I saw blood after she left.

  PH: No, I understand, Mrs. Harrison that you don’t know when the blood got there. I also understand your reluctance to admit that you did not check the mattress prior to Nancy using it. Let’s move on. You refer to this as a ‘spot.’ It really was just a small amount, was it not, Mrs. Harrison?

  MH: Well, it was enough to be noticeable, sir. At least the size of a small saucer, I would say.

  PH: Ah, a small saucer, at the most. When a woman gives birth, does she emit more than a saucer full of blood, ma’am?

  MH: Sir, I am completely disgusted by that question.

  PH: I apologize. Perhaps I should ask another: Mrs. Harrison, if I am not correct, there is actually at least one other way—besides childbirth I mean—in which a woman could create a bloodstain on a mattress. Do you agree?

  MH: Sir, I have never been asked such a horrifying question by someone who calls himself a gentleman.

  PH: Mrs. Harrison, I am here as an attorney, not as a gentleman. And I believe your reluctance to answer is sufficient.

  Henry sat down and smiled. He did nothing, showed nothing to the justices or the witness. The tension in the room—particularly coming from the witness stand—was palpable. Just as Henry hoped. He could only give it a second or two more before Justice Carrington would dismiss Mrs. Harrison, but it was worth it to see if he could smoke out an answer. Silence often prompted unique responses.

  Sure enough, just as Henry saw Justice Carrington shift in his seat, Mary Harrison began talking.

  MH: Sir, if I must answer your repulsive question, then I shall. But only because I am being forced to do so.

  Henry just continued smiling. He had been ready to let the woman leave the stand without further comment—he had enough for closing argument—but if his silence equaled “force,” than he was interested to hear what Mrs. Harrison felt compelled to declare.

  MH: We all know there is another way that blood can appear on a mattress, sir. If you are making me say it, it is because of a woman’s special monthly blood. That is what you meant, is it not, Mr. Henry?

  Henry stood up slowly, still smiling. Trying to button down a laugh. He wasn’t certain if a “woman’s special monthly blood” was the standard term for monthly courses, but it was more than clear what Mary Harrison meant. Henry had what he needed; the witness could be dismissed.

  ******

  The Virginia Gazette

  Matthew Dickson

  Anyone in the courtroom yesterday saw the defendant bear witness to two of his accusers, none other than his very own cousins, Mr. and Mrs. Randolph Harrison of Glentivar. This reporter could not see the face of Mr. Randolph as he heard his former hosts describe the truly bizarre behavior of their Bizarre guests on that mysterious night. Did he tremble when Mr. and Mrs. Harrison described the odd behavior of Nancy Randolph when she claimed colic and excused herself almost immediately upon arrival? Did he shed a tear when Mrs. Harrison testified that she saw blood on the sheets of Nancy’s bed the following morning? No. Mr. Richard Randolph did not show a single emotion the entire day other than a constant disdain for what was being said. It must be hard to have the inconvenience of sitting in the courtroom all day against your will. Not nearly as exciting as it is for those of us who are there by choice. But it would be even harder to be there if you were the mother of the child that died, one would think.

  That raises the question: Where is Nancy Randolph? We all know where she is—living with her sister at Bizarre, hoping that Richard can exonerate them both—but where has she been throughout? It has been Richard who has fought to defend himself and clear Nancy’s name. He has traversed the county declaring his innocence, but what of Nancy? Why has she not appeared in any capacity to tell us what happened at Glentivar? It wouldn’t be so hard to deny anything and everything. Could it be that she has nothing good to tell the people of Cumberland County? What will she say when her brother-in-law is found guilty? Perhaps only time will tell.

  ******

  Maye Henry should tell Thomas to stop bringing him the Gazette until the trial was over. He had finally had a full night of sleep, content knowing the prosecution’s first witnesses—and only eyewitnesses—had displayed nothing but their own bad personality in the case of Mr. Harrison and arguable facts in the case of Mrs. Harrison. If they were the best witnesses--and why wouldn’t the Commonwealth begin with the best they had—it was possible that Henry had already invested enough time worrying over this case. Now he just had to wait it out. It had been a good night.

  But now there was this to digest over breakfast.

  Henry knew the press found the most sensational storyline and stuck with it. He also knew the Randolph’s connection to the Jeffersons of Monticello made them all the more susceptible to public scrutiny; politics was proving to be a fickle beast in the new country. He knew these things, and they calmed him. But other people, people in the real world, did not know the press could be biased, even when presenting an editorial rather than a series of facts.

  The problem as Henry saw it would cause one of two scenarios: Either the Gazette’s story would influence the minds of the public, or the Gazette’s story already reflected how the public thought of Richard and Nancy. The beauty of the legal system was that public opinion was not supposed to enter the jury room. The members of the jury were to forget anything and everything they knew, read, or had heard outside the courtroom’s walls and decide based only on the facts presented to them at trial. But the jury was comprised of real people. People from the public.

  There was only one thing to do—no, two. First, damage control. Marshall and he had gotten fairly confident that Richard now understood the gravity of the situation and was not inclined to go to the press or any members of the general public for the duration of the trial. But everyone else remotely connected to the Bizarre Randolphs was out of their control. Nancy, her brothers, her sisters-in-law, their cousins, parents and friends were all potential barrels of gunpowder, ready to go off. It wouldn’t matter if the intention was for personal fame or to clear the name of a loved one; once one of the Randolphs came out to talk, things could go dramatically wrong for the defense. They needed to control this situation, but Henry knew the likelihood of having that power was slim.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  HENRY NURSED HIS ICED tea as if his life depended on it. If he had to deal with the sauna-like heat of Marshall’s rented room any longer, the tepid fluid in his hand may be the only thing that kept him alive. Marshall found that he thought best when he was comfortable and apparently part of that was making his stuffy room “cozy.” Henry hadn’t stopped perspiring since this case had begun. This afternoon was unlikely to provide any relief.

  After court had adjourned for the weekend, Henry and Marshall had received word that Nancy Randolph had arrived in town and she had been talking. Of all the people to cause them grief it wasn’t Richard’s enemy, Thomas Mann Randolph, and it wasn’t Nancy’s purported enemy, John Randolph. It was just Nancy herself. Marshall seemed more receptive to giving the girl the benefit of the doubt; at his age, Henry knew enough to be cynical.

  They had received word from the young woman herself that she was in town and needed to see them. Henry had jokingly considered whether it would solve or cause more problems if he eliminated Miss Randolph, but Marshall had persuaded him otherwise. “Let her see how the town welcomes her. She will learn her lesson on her own, I should say.”

  There was no envy in admitting that Marshall was likely one of the greatest legal minds of their time—perhaps the greatest. But that respect grated and morphed into ire when Marshall refused to show any sign of anxiety or annoyance even when Richard or Nancy explicitly disobeyed advice. “We shall not take it personally, Mr. Henry. If they disregard our fine and worthy advice, that really says more about them than about us, wouldn’t you agree?” Henry reluctantly agreed with that, but still couldn’t shake the thought life would be easier for
every single one of them if their client and his accomplice just took their damn advice and didn’t continue to cause more problems to fix. They had enough to worry about with the case itself, they did not need to spend their out of court time managing the histrionics and personal breakdowns of the ancillary players in this family melodrama.

  Henry was practicing breathing to calm his beating heart when Nancy Randolph came flitting into Marshall’s room with a puff of lavender scent and tears. “Oh, sirs, thank you so much for seeing me. I am distraught.” Henry had a response, but he bit his tongue and let the calmer man respond first.

  “Yes, dear girl, we are a bit concerned ourselves at seeing you here in town. I believe we had discussed you staying at Bizarre… to avoid being brought into custody? Perhaps you remember that conversation?” Marshall made it sound as if he genuinely thought that perhaps the girl hadn’t understood their orders. They had, been for her own good.

  Nancy did her part to make it sound as if she had not understood that she was not to set foot anywhere off the boundaries of Bizarre. “Oh, Mr. Marshall, I was too upset to even think straight when we last met. I was so worried about Richard that I just didn’t hear a single word, I’m afraid.” She smiled up at Marshall through her lashes. He seemed to soften if he was at all hardened against Nancy. Henry glowered at them both.

  “Well, the other words were that you should do all you could to avoid allowing the Cumberland County authorities from getting their hands on you seeing as how they are hoping to see you swing for your alleged crimes.” That, of course, was from Henry, not Marshall. To his credit, Henry had self-edited a far more harsh statement in his head before he allowed those particular words out of his lips. That said, by the look of absolute shock on Marshall’s face, Henry realized that he likely should have done more work on the sentence before it escaped his mouth. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said it at all. However, by the look of horror on Nancy’s face, Henry could see that she finally understood the gravity of the situation.

  “Would they really come for me?” she whispered, no longer flirting with either man. It was a much-preferred demeanor, Henry though. Nancy was almost tolerable when she was no longer affecting as a coquette.

  “I’m afraid they don’t have to ‘come’ for you at this point. You are here, at their doorstep.” This, surprisingly, was from Marshall. So he is also feeling the pressure, thought Henry. The great jurist was a human man after all. Thank God.

  “I’m here to help Richard, Mr. Marshall. Mr. Henry,” she nodded towards Patrick Henry. He accepted that acknowledgement as an apology. It was likely the most he would get.

  “I’m very, very sorry that I have done the wrong thing.” Well, Henry had to give the girl credit. Perhaps she wasn’t as vapid as she had come across. Perhaps it was the supposition that she was playing house with her sister’s husband that had blinded him to any potential positive attributes of the girl.

  “Tell me, Miss Randolph,” Marshall asked, “How did you think you could help Mr. Randolph?”

  “In ways we can’t or are not?” Henry added with a smile.

  Marshall shot Henry a look that suggested that Henry practice silence for a moment or two. He added, “As Mr. Henry suggests, what did you think you could do that would add to the work we are doing in the courtroom?”

  “Well, it’s just that people—women—are saying the worst things about Richard. They go home from the court or they read the paper and they gossip. They talk in their parlors, in their churches, on the streets. They say Richard and I are—were—engaged in the most unnatural practices, killing babies and behaving in decidedly un-Christian ways. I am not even talking about the persistent and malicious rumor that we are having an affair behind Judith’s back. No, that isn’t the worst of it. It is the accusations of child murder and worse that are so very unfair.” She was crying becoming too upset to go on. “I had to, no I have to tell people what really happened, why they cannot say such things about Richard.” She buried her head in her hands and sobbed softly.

  Marshall and Henry made eye contact over the bent head of the girl. Neither could see much concern in the eyes of the other; they had both been in this situation before. Despite her tears, Nancy had created—or co-created—this circumstance. And anything and everything she had done to this point had done nothing to make it better. If anything, her attempts at persuading family and friends to her cause had completely backfired. Most of her family members called her Richard’s victim, but said nothing like “Oh that Nancy, she would never…” In fact, the Randolph’s anger at Richard seemed to imply that they believed it. That they believed it all. That was the net result of Nancy trying to help. Henry kept it to himself as it seemed that Marshall saw the same thing.

  “I very much appreciate that you are trying to help Richard and I think he would appreciate it, too. That said, Miss Randolph, what exactly did you say to the good ladies of Cumberland County since you arrived?” Marshall was unaffected in the asking of his question.

  “Well, nothing, sir. I wasn’t able to say a single thing to a single person.” This before another deluge of tears. Henry was so relieved that he didn’t even think—or care—to ask the follow up question that Marshall next asked. “Why ever not, Miss Randolph?” Despite the question, Henry could see that Marshall was also more than a little relieved that Nancy hadn’t been able to do any more damage.

  “I couldn’t say anything to anyone because not a single lady would receive me.” More tears. “I am the biggest pariah in all of Virginia,” she hiccupped. “Not even my own family will see me. They all think we did it, they all think we did everything they have accused us of doing!”

  Henry thought it was possible that Nancy would literally do physical harm to herself if she continued to lose tears at the current rate. She was also being fairly loud. “Miss Randolph,” he began. Marshall shot him a warning look, a look that Henry ignored. Nancy was not his client, so he didn’t see what the need was to treat her with such care. Except for her talent for talking too much, which would hurt Richard, who was his client, just as bad as it would hurt her. “You need to do as we tell you. Not a single woman will believe a word you say, not now, perhaps not ever. The damage is done. What we are dealing with now is not the chirping of society’s little birds, but the might of the legal system. Not rumors and half-truths, but justice. If you had been hoping to help Richard, you could go back to Bizarre and attempt to travel backwards in time so that whatever happened at Glentivar could be erased completely. That would be helpful. Absent that, I suggest that you make yourself invisible and hope that Richard doesn’t hang.”

  The silence that met Henry’s soliloquy was deafening. Nancy’s mouth hung open in a shocked gape. Marshall’s brows were furrowed in a look halfway between amusement and horror. Henry wondered how it was that what he said was so surprising to anyone, let alone his co-counsel and a young woman who had heard it multiples times already. When the silence was broken it was, predictably, punctured by the shriek of Nancy’s tears returning with a ferocious strength.

  Marshall sighed, “Now Miss Randolph, Mr. Henry’s words are harsh but I’m afraid I must second his thoughts that you must be quiet—both in general and in particular.” In other words, thought Henry, shut up right now and do not stop shutting your mouth for some time, if ever.

  “Not only is it unfortunately true that time travel would be an exceptional option if it were available, but I must strongly urge you to remember that there are charges pending against you as well…”

  “But I don’t care about myself…”

  Marshall put up his hand to stop this interruption. “Yes, Nancy, you do.” It was the first time that Henry had heard Marshall use the young woman’s given name. Henry figured Marshall wanted to be heard. “They will put to death if they find you guilty. If they find Richard guilty, you will likely follow.” Nancy, now silent, nodded. Well, Henry thought, apparently he wasn’t as clear and frank as Marshall.

  “But if I can just tell
people that Richard is a good man, that he isn’t guilty, the public will rally behind him.”

  “Nancy,” Marshall continued, “we don’t know who will take the stand before this trial ends. Any attempts you make to sway the good opinion of the ladies of Virginia will backfire as surely as an old musket. It will not work Nancy. It’s too late. There is too much damage already done.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I’m not a bad person, Mr. Marshall.” Nothing more, just a simple statement. It was heartfelt enough to affect even Henry.

  “I am sure that both Mr. Marshall and myself know you are not a bad person Miss Randolph. It is just frustrating because we see that you are so intent on helping Richard that you don’t understand the danger you are putting each of you into every time you act. You are not a bad person. You may have made bad decisions, but you are trying to help. We just ask that you help everyone by listening to us.” Marshall’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he nodded his approving concurrence to Henry’s plea. “Please, Miss Randolph, go back to Bizarre.” Henry smiled, trying to show that he was being patient, mostly for Marshall’s sake. Henry had some control over himself after all.

  “Judy is not being terribly kind to me, I’m afraid, and it is growing tense.” Nancy wiped a last tear from her eye. “I just want this all to end.”

  “Life can be a very difficult thing, Nancy. I’m sorry you have had to learn that in such a horridly blatant manner and at such a young age.” Marshall gave the girl's hand a paternal pat. Henry found that he wanted to tell her that all would be just fine, but he couldn’t find the words to do so. It might be a bald-faced lie.

  In fact, both Henry and Marshall had heard the reports back from their womenfolk about the status of Nancy Randolph’s reputation. It was paramount that they focused on a verdict of innocence for her co-conspirator. But even clearance through the legal system would not help Nancy’s reputation with the ladies of Richmond. True, if she and Richard were exonerated legally she could always point to that as her refutation to any accusation against her. That was the beauty of this new American legal system that Marshall and Henry had helped to form: A verdict of not guilty meant that you could live freely. But both had practiced long enough to see that in the public opinion a verdict of not guilty was not the same as a pronouncement of innocence. Such a young system, but already so tainted with the cynicism of human nature.