“Did you have a conversation with John Sisemore on the Sunday after the shooting?”
“Yes, I did,” the lanky young man replied.
“Was anyone else present?”
“Yes. Bud Hinton. Bud’s sister Pearl was nearby.”
“Please tell the jury the substance of that conversation.”
Lyles shifted in his chair and looked at the jury. “We were just talking about things in general and Bud, he said something about it was too bad about the shooting Saturday night and he was glad Sisemore didn’t get hurt. And Sisemore, he says he couldn’t get hurt because Mullins didn’t shoot at him that night.”
“What else did Mr. Sisemore say?”
“Not much after that.”
“But your testimony is that John Sisemore told you and Bud Hinton that Frank Mullins did not shoot at him on the night in question?”
“Yes, that’s what he said.”
***
Bud Hinton gave almost identical testimony as his friend Charlie Lyles. B. P. Edwards repeated the same questions he asked Lyles.
“Why do you think John Sisemore would confide in two young men like you and Charlie Lyles on such a sensitive matter?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Are you aware that Marshal Sisemore has not made any statements to the press or testified at any of the previous court hearings?”
“I don’t understand,” admitted Hinton.
“What I mean, Bud, is here’s a courtroom full of fine, upstanding people. Doctors, bankers, businessmen. Some very close friends of John Sisemore. Some that would give their lives for him. Yet not one of them has heard a word from John Sisemore’s mouth about that night. Why? Because he believes before a jury is the only place for this story to see light. Now, tell me, Bud, why would John Sisemore not tell his friends such a story but tell the likes of you?”
Hinton shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I simply find it implausible that John Sisemore, according to your testimony, confided in two young boys on a street corner that he killed a man in cold blood. Is that what you would have us believe?”
Hinton hung his head and mumbled.
“I’m sorry,” Edwards said, “I could not hear what you said.”
“I stand by what I said,” Hinton repeated.
“Did you ever buy liquor from Frank Mullins?”
“Objection!” shouted Wear and Roberts simultaneously.
“Objection sustained,” Barksdale declared. “Mr. Edwards, you know the question has no relevance.”
“Sorry, Your Honor. I believe that’s all my questions.”
Barksdale looked at the district attorney. “Any further witnesses?”
Roberts stood. “The State has no further witnesses, Your Honor. We rest at this time.”
“Mr. Edwards?”
“If it please the Court, I would move for a directed verdict. The State has failed to prove its case.”
Roberts jumped to his feet, but Barksdale waved him down. There was no hesitation in the judge’s response. “Motion denied. Is the defense ready to call its first witness?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” replied Edwards, unfazed. “May I suggest, however, because of the hour, that we adjourn until after lunch?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Thursday, September 15, 1898
The defense opened its case by countering the testimony that Frank Mullins was unarmed that stormy February night. C. W. Seals produced three witnesses to testify they saw Mullins discharging his pistol near the Opera House. J. T. Wallace and Julius Long mirrored each other’s testimony. Both stated they saw Frank Mullins discharge a pistol in the east part of town shortly before he was shot.
The first question Seals asked J. Shelton Burch was surprising.
“Mr. Burch, are you a drinking man?”
“Yessir, when I can get it.” Laughter filled the courtroom.
“Were you drinking on the night in question?”
“Yessir.”
“Were you drunk?”
“No, sir; it takes a lot to get me drunk.” Judge Barksdale banged his gavel to curtail the laughter.
“Did you see Frank Mullins shoot a gun on the night in question?” asked Seals.
“Yes, I did. Several times. Into the air.”
“Did you see Julius Long that night?”
“Yes. Him and J. T. were together. J. T. Wallace.”
“Do you know if they saw Mullins shooting?”
“I don’t know what they saw. I expect they should have. They were right there.”
Roberts tried in earnest to shake their testimony, but it was obvious Seals had prepared his questions well to withstand attacks during cross-examination.
Frank Cordill was called to the witness stand to corroborate the others who saw Mullins shooting up the town.
“Can you describe the shooting Mr. Mullins was doing?” asked Seals.
“He just fired some shots into the air. Acting foolish.”
“Do you know how many?”
“Not exactly. Probably three or four.”
“What else did you see Frank Mullins do?”
“Well, after he fired those shots, he walked up under the shed by Mr. Grambling’s mill. There was a light burning under there. It looked like he was reloading his pistol.”
***
“The defense calls Fred Price.”
Price rose from his seat at the table with Sisemore and walked to the witness stand. Edwards asked him to recall his observations from the night of February 26.
“About eight or eight-thirty that night, I heard four or five pistol shots in town. I immediately got my shotgun and started to town. Near Judge Barksdale’s, I met Mr. Keys. He told me he thought the shooting occurred in the east part of town.”
“You mean in the vicinity of the Opera House?” asked Edwards.
“Yes, I walked in that direction and stopped at several stores and knocked. I turned and went back toward the bank. As I reached the bank, I heard someone walk up from the depot. It was very dark, and I could see no one. I spoke, I don’t remember exactly what, just to make my presence known, but just as I spoke, I heard John Sisemore say, ‘Who is that, is that you, Frank?’”
“How were those words spoken? Were they casual?”
“It was said very rapidly. Like a command. The way I would talk if I was confronted by someone I believed to be armed.”
“Your Honor,” interrupted Wear. “Please ask the witness to stick to the facts and refrain from expressing his personal thoughts.”
“The witness will avoid offering his opinion or personal comments,” Barksdale droned.
“You said you recognized the voice that called to Frank Mullins?” Edwards asked.
“Yes. It was John Sisemore.”
“And was there a response?”
“Yes, the answer was, ‘Yes, that’s me.’ I thought at the time that it was Frank Mullins’s voice.”
“Could you see either man at this point?”
“No. Only when the lightning flashed and then only as shapes.”
“Could you see enough to describe their positions relative to one another?”
“Yes, Sisemore was standing near the sidewalk, a little to the right of it, that runs from the bank to Gullatt’s store. Mullins was about eight to ten steps north of him, standing near a wagon.”
“And where were you positioned?”
“I had been on the sidewalk near the bank, but as I recognized the voices, I moved up into the doorway of the bank.”
“And why did you move away?”
“I did not want either man to take me for an enemy and shoot at me.”
“So you were afraid either man might shoot you?”
“I did not think Marshal Sisemore would shoot me, but I thought it highly dangerous to distract him at a tense moment like that. It was very difficult to see anything that night.”
“What about Mr. Mullins?”
“I didn’t know what Frank migh
t do.”
“Mr. Price, if you were a lawman, would you be concerned about encountering a known offender of the law on a pitch black night at such a close distance?”
“Objection!” Roberts quickly blurted before Price could answer. “Calls for conjecture on the part of the witness.”
“Sustained,” ruled Barksdale. “Could you rephrase the question, counselor?”
Edwards nodded. “Do you have personal knowledge that Frank Mullins was arrested on numerous occasions?”
“Objection, your Honor.” Roberts was on his feet again. “Mr. Sisemore is on trial here, not Mr. Mullins.”
“Overruled. The witness may answer.”
“Yes, I do,” Price responded.
“And do you know if John Sisemore was responsible for any of those arrests?”
“Most of them, I imagine.”
“Did you ever see Frank Mullins armed with a firearm?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Are you familiar with an incident in which Frank Mullins shot at John Sisemore?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And what was the outcome of that encounter?”
“Mullins was convicted and sentenced to a year in the parish jail.”
“Now,” Edwards continued, “if we may go back to the night in question, after Mullins answered Sisemore, what happened?”
“Sisemore said, ‘Is that you doing this shooting around here tonight?’ and Mullins replied, ‘No, but by God, I’ve got the fixing for you.’”
“Tell me again what Mr. Mullins said,” Edwards asked.
“He said, ‘No, but by God, I’ve got the fixing for you.’”
“And did you understand that to be a threat?”
Price answered and Roberts objected simultaneously.
“Calls for an opinion by the witness,” Roberts protested.
The judge considered the matter. “I believe I will allow the witness to answer.”
“Yes,” repeated Price. “I felt like it was a threat.”
“An imminent threat?”
“Yes.”
“And how did Mr. Sisemore respond?”
“Well, he said, ‘You are a damn liar,’ and then both men fired simultaneously.”
“How long after these last words did the shooting start?”
“Immediately.”
“Please continue.”
“Well, they fired at one another, and I heard Mullins holler, ‘Oh!, oh!, oh!’ He started moving off and then he hollered, ‘Don’t shoot me any more, I didn’t do the shooting’ perhaps two or three times.”
“Could you tell the jury how you know both men fired?”
“Because I saw the flash of two guns.”
“Your vision was not obscured in any way?”
“No, other than by the darkness. There was nothing between me standing in front of Ruston State Bank and the two of them on the corner by Gullatt’s.”
“Then what happened?”
“I stayed there in the bank doorway for a few minutes because I could no longer see either man. After five minutes or so, Mr. McElroy came by and passed me. Later, I went to the Duty House where I found Frank Mullins was being attended by the doctors.”
“How do you account for some witnesses reporting only one gunshot initially while you said both men shot at the same time?”
“The shots were simultaneous. At a distance, Mr. Sisemore’s shotgun would be much louder and would have covered the pistol shot.”
“How do you know Mr. Mullins was using a pistol? You said it was dark.”
“I assume it was a pistol.”
“But you did not actually see a gun.”
“I could not see the gun, but I saw the flash when he shot.”
“But there is no doubt in your mind that both men shot?”
“None whatsoever.”
***
George Wear could see Price’s testimony had impressed the jury. Realizing the outcome of the trial might hinge on this witness, Wear took the offensive.
“You are currently serving as the mayor of the Town of Ruston, are you not?”
“Yes. I am.” Price replied.
“In that capacity, you are essentially the defendant’s employer. True?”
“John Sisemore was elected chief of police by a vote of the Town Council,” replied Price.
“But he is accountable to you and the Town Council, is he not?”
“Yes.”
“And you are also his attorney,” stated Wear.
Price chuckled. “I hope that’s obvious by this point.”
“Mr. Price, do you think it extraordinary that the only person who has testified that Frank Mullins shot at John Sisemore is the defendant’s own attorney and employer?”
Pearce rose from his chair. “Objection. Your Honor, counsel is badgering the witness.”
“Your Honor,” Wear said, “given the unusual circumstances here, this question is not only proper, but the jury deserves an explanation of this unorthodox situation before us.”
“I’m going to overrule the objection. The witness will answer the question.”
“I don’t think it’s unusual at all,” Price declared. “John Sisemore was a very competent and efficient officer long before I became mayor of this town. He served as a policeman for a number of years before my election as mayor and his appointment as chief. He has also served with distinction as a deputy United States marshal for several years. Because I observed this shooting, I am convinced of John Sisemore’s innocence and he permitted me to defend him.”
“Do you deny that you and the defendant are good friends?”
“Certainly, I don’t deny it. I am proud to call John Tom Sisemore my friend.”
“Do you deny the defendant’s conviction would be a black mark upon you as mayor and upon the town?”
“It would be a black mark upon us all, solely because it would be a grave injustice to convict an innocent man.”
Sisemore watch Wear return to the prosecutor’s table and looked at his notes. Sisemore knew Wear hoped to establish in the jury’s mind the notion that Price’s testimony, if not untrue, was at least shaded by his position or friendship. Price’s articulate and passionate statements seemed only strengthen his position, much to Wear’s irritation.
John James Neilson entered the witness box after Price stepped down. Neilson, a respected citizen and businessman, had been Ruston’s first mayor. He stroked his wispy beard as he sat comfortably awaiting Stephen Pearce’s first question.
“Mr. Neilson, did you hear gunshots on the night of February 26?”
“Yes, I did. On two occasions. First, four or five shots and then more about thirty minutes later.”
“When you heard the second series of shots, where were you?”
“I was standing in the street in front of Pea Colvin’s stables.”
“Regarding the last gunfire, please describe the sound you heard.”
“The first one sounded like a double shot, or two guns being fired almost simultaneously—one shot almost immediately after the other without an interruption between the two. Then there were two more shots afterwards that did not sound the same. They sounded like regular gunshots.”
“So, the first sound was distinctly different from the final two shots?” Pearce asked.
“Yes. Like I said, it sounded like two guns being fired at the same time.”
“Was anyone else with you when you heard these shots?”
“T. R. Hardin was with me.”
“Your Honor, I have no more questions for this witness.”
George Wear stood up but did not approach the witness.
“Mr. Neilson, I have just a few questions. You formerly served as the mayor of Ruston, correct?”
“Yes, I was Ruston’s first mayor.”
“And you signed Mr. Sisemore’s bond in this case. Is that not true?”
“Yes. I was among a number of citizens who signed the marshal’s bond.”
“Would you t
erm yourself a friend of Mr. Sisemore?”
“I think I can call him a friend.”
“You didn’t see who fired those shots on the night in question, did you, Mr. Neilson?”
“No, I did not.”
“Then you do not know from your own personal knowledge who fired shots nor how many shots they fired, do you?”
“Of my own personal knowledge, no.”
“No further questions.”
T. R. Hardin then took the stand. His testimony was essentially the same as Neilson’s.
Wear tried a new approach with Hardin.
“Did you draw your conclusions on your own, or after you had discussed the matter with Mayor Neilson?”
“I came to my opinion independently. So did Neilson.”
“Sir, do you believe an extra amount of gunpowder in a shotgun shell would cause it to make a different noise than a regular load?”
“I suppose so, but...”
“Thank you,” interrupted Wear. “That’s all.”
“Your Honor, I have additional questions for the witness,” Pearce announced.
“Proceed.”
“Mr. Hardin, Counsel for the State asked you about a shotgun shell with extra gunpowder. Do you believe such a shell would make a sound like you heard? Or would it just be a louder sound?”
“I think it would just be a louder noise. I don’t think it would extend the length of the noise. That’s what I was going to say when he interrupted me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hardin.”
***
Seals called George Edmondson to the witness stand.
“Mr. Edmondson, how are you employed?”
“I’m a policeman for the town of Ruston.”
“And you were so employed on the night of February 26?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Did you hear the gunfire early in the evening?”
“Yes, I did. I was walking about town trying to find its source when the second shooting occurred.”
“Did you see that encounter in which Frank Mullins was shot?”
“I saw the gunfire from a distance, but not to identify the parties doing the shooting.”
“Can you tell us how many guns you saw fired?”
“I saw the flame from two guns,” said Edmondson. “But by the time I got there, the parties were gone.”
“Would it be correct to conclude that as the night progressed, you determined the essentials of what happened?”
Neither Fear Nor Favor: Deputy United States Marshal John Tom Sisemore Page 16
