A. Well, when I gave my statement to the police they asked me about that and I, well, of course, I had to say yes [i.e., I came off is what Bob told the police] but I tried to explain it but they put that in there [i.e., into the written confession] and afterwards I talked to the psychiatrist from Mr. Bill’s office at the county jail and I told him about it and I stated that it was something that I couldn’t understand myself because there was no preliminary feeling to it at all and as a matter of fact at the time I hardly realized that it happened and he told me, the psychiatrist, that an occurrence like that quite often will happen if a person is under emotional strain or stress or anything and that he could understand it happening where no actual contact had been made at all.
Now that Bob has taken advantage of the opportunity to describe the bewildering riddle of what happened to Irene, considering that no contact had been made, he puts a spin on why he had no choice but to take the stand:
Mr. Cosgrove explained to me that I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to, and I told him that because there was a lot of conflicting statements of witnesses or supposed witnesses and that there seemed to be a lot of doubt in different places, that I felt the Court should have every angle of the case possible, not in any form of defense because I don’t guess I have any, but just to give all sides of it I thought that I had better appear on the stand. And that’s about all, I guess, I can think of.
And with that, Attorney James Cosgrove turns to the State’s Attorney, Albert S. Bill (who is chomping at the bit), and says, Your witness.
thirty-nine
ALBERT S. BILL, Chief State’s Attorney for many years, has never experienced the kind of obfuscated, self-pitying, reconfiguration of a horrendous crime into an inadvertent, unintended death that he has just witnessed. And now he must listen to Robert Malm say that he even ejaculated inadvertently. State’s Attorney Bill is unable to contain his fury.
He strides up to the witness box and does not precede what he has to say with formalities or niceties. And he does not call Bob, Robert. The Chief State’s Attorney doesn’t use any name at all as he barrages him, right from the get-go, with short, pointed questions to which Bob obfuscates further, replying to every question with either No, or I don’t think so, or I guess not, or Not that I remember, or a nod, or a shrug. Usually, Attorney Bill doesn’t even give him the time between questions to attempt an answer. His staccato is rapid machine gun fire.
When you started out from Cedarcrest did you have any particular plan that involved the evening? When you left the Allyn Theater, did you have a plan for the rest of the evening? Did you have any plan on what you were going to do after eating? When you came out of the White Tower, did you head for the bus stop to go back to Cedarcrest? Did you intend to take a bus back?
What was your intention when you left the restaurant? What was your course of procedure for the rest of the evening, if you had one? Did it occur to you that you might take the bus to Cedarcrest after your dinner? Instead, you proceeded to walk, is that correct? You were window-shopping? You had no definite plan at that time where you were going? Is that the normal course that you would take, to walk to Cedarcrest? When you got out to the end of any shopping district you took a left turn? And that wasn’t getting you anywhere as far as getting back to Cedarcrest, was it? And then when you got down a ways you took a right turn on another street, didn’t you?
Well, you’d gotten over onto Hillside Avenue but you don’t know how? You didn’t recognize Hillside until you got down to the corner of Hillside and New Britain Avenue, is that right? And then you knew where you were? Now, does the bus you take to Cedarcrest go by that corner?
Without waiting for an answer, Bill turns away and points to a blown-up map of my neighborhood, which is set on an easel.
Do you see those two objects on the map with red around them? Those are stores. Do you recognize them? You know the tavern? You knew if you continued along New Britain Avenue along the route you were on you ultimately could get to Cedarcrest, right? So what did you go up Coolidge Street for?
Bill is now jabbing aggressively at the map, his motion the same relentless rat-a-tat-tat of his questions.
Do you mean to say when you turned right on Coolidge Street you thought you were heading back to Cedarcrest? And yet you take this turn here that you were unfamiliar with, is that correct? And as you went along there were four or five houses on the east side of Coolidge Street, and there were five or six houses on Broadview Terrace in front of you, weren’t there? You knew it wasn’t a business section, didn’t you? You knew you were turning from a business district into a residential district, didn’t you?
You turned on the arc toward Sequin Street, didn’t you? You stopped on the corner? You didn’t particularly care whether you were on Sequin Street or Coolidge Street, did you? You didn’t know where you were, did you?
Bill leaves the map, approaches the witness stand, and begins jabbing in the direction of Robert Malm’s chest.
Did you see anybody on Sequin Street? Well, you saw a little girl, didn’t you? You were prowling, weren’t you? You were looking for girls of tender age, weren’t you?
State’s Attorney Albert Bill continues to harangue Bob, nonstop, becoming more and more obstreperous, and when he is in a complete state of agitation, he will finally bring himself to address Bob by name.
You mean to say that you can’t tell us what your intentions were as you stood there with that little girl and these other children who were coming toward you down the street? You were playing a game, you say? You were playing hide-and-seek with her? Ducking the rest of the children. You were getting this girl off alone! Isn’t that what you’re really saying?
As a matter of fact you did get her alone back there, didn’t you, by the boat? That’s the way you wanted to have it turn out, wasn’t it? Get her away from the crowd. Why did you yell Beat it? Why didn’t you let the other children come up to you? You wanted her alone, didn’t you? You didn’t think of joining with them and playing a real game of hide-and-seek, did you?
Isn’t it true that you so wanted to get her away that you put Irene over the fence to get away? Did you tell her where you were taking her? Did you tell Irene that it was a game of hide-and-seek? As a matter of fact, you had your hand on her shoulder all the while, didn’t you, threatening her?
Did you realize you were dragging this little girl away from home and you mean she didn’t protest at all to you? And you mean that she didn’t question you at all on where you were going, or what you were doing? Did you say, Oh Irene, let’s go over this fence? The game was over by that time, wasn’t it?
Bill suddenly makes for the prosecution’s table and pours himself a glass of water in order to calm himself. He lifts his shoulders and returns to the stand.
You weren’t using force, you were guiding her—is that what you are telling us? Guiding her? Like a woman? And you want us to believe that she never expressed any concern about getting home again until you were in back of the toolshed? And she made no protests at all about going into Sequin Street, over the fence, along the other fence to the back of the toolshed—no protests at all during that trip, is that correct? And you used no force?
Let us see how it was that this little girl who had never seen you before came along with you—can you tell us? You want this Court to believe that this timid little girl just went along with you—allowed you to guide her—you, a thirty-year-old stranger, over fences, through yards, and along a fence to Coolidge Street, and made no protest and didn’t seem to care where she was going, or inquire about it, or care anything about it? Is that what you are trying to tell the Court? You are trying to make this Court believe that?
What were you thinking about? Just thinking about getting that girl off alone in some lonely spot—isn’t that what you were trying to do? Well, when did that little thought come to your mind—that you were going to take this little girl and take some of her clothes off and molest her—when did that thought come to your mind? You mean you never h
ad a thought of it until you got her behind that shed?
State’s Attorney Bill’s calm has fled yet again. He raises his voice and gets his face as close to Malm’s as he can.
If you are going to tell the truth, let us have it now! You went over a fence, came to the shed, and then, all of a sudden it came to you—I guess I will have this little girl undress. Is that what you are telling us? Right out of a clear sky you started to unzipper her coat. What was her reaction to that? Did she say anything? What did she say? Don’t undress me here. Here! Is that the correct language?
She suddenly protested, didn’t she? But you went right on doing it, didn’t you? You were assuring her you wouldn’t hurt her, is that it? So, from what you tell us here, that little girl had no idea of what you had in your mind from your actions? Just a moment before you zipped the coat, was that the first time you had any thought of undressing this girl and molesting her? When you started zipping off the coat you intended to remove all her clothing, didn’t you? You had no other reason to take off her coat, did you?
Did she assist you in taking off the coat? You told her to, didn’t you? She was frightened by this time, wasn’t she? It certainly wasn’t warm out, was it? You mean to say you took the coat off this little girl and started to undress her out there by the toolshed on a cold December evening and she made no protest?
She was scared then, wasn’t she? And you never did anything after that to relieve her of being scared, did you? You unzipped her pants and you pulled those down, didn’t you? You made her do this—you must have said something to her. You said that she was scared by that time. Did you tell her to hurry up and get her pants off? Oh, you were very kind—like all this time, leading her on, taking down her zippers and panties, is that right?
You made her know you meant business and to get those clothes off, didn’t you? Did she cry or snivel like a child will when they are scared? And when she fell down did she remain on the ground? She didn’t go all the way down, you say?
How did she get down on the ground then? By herself? Did you take your penis out at that time? Well, you unzipped your own pants, didn’t you? Didn’t you? She was on the ground, wasn’t she, on her coat? And then you put your hands on her, didn’t you? And you kissed her on the mouth? Did you put your finger in her private? Didn’t you say that in your written confession? Only that you touched her private? Here is what the confession you signed says, I was feeling of her private. What about that? And how long did this procedure take, this molesting her, when you took out your penis and felt of her private and kissed her—how long did all that take?
And while all these things were going on—these acts of molestation where you were kissing her and touching her, and had her exposed there, do you mean to tell us that she made no protest at all? She was scared to death, wasn’t she? You know that she was, don’t you? Did she give you any fight at all? Did she go at you, kicking you or clawing you? No, because you were holding her down, is that right? You threatened to kill her, didn’t you? You made some threat to her, didn’t you, to scare her?
You want to have us believe that she was scared and frightened but she just lay there passively and let you do these things, is that right? I suggest that you had her by the throat then, didn’t you? And you discharged then, before you got up and then you worried about what had happened? Well, as a matter of fact you were worrying what was going to happen to you, wasn’t that it?
And you want to have us believe that this little girl tied such a hard knot in her scarf around her neck that that knot, all by itself, choked her to death. You put a square knot in there on that first knot, didn’t you? Why did you want to put any knots in this scarf at all for? You wanted to get rid of that little girl, didn’t you? And you saw your chance with that scarf. That’s the answer, isn’t it, Malm? Isn’t it, Malm? And you have done acts of violence on persons in the past, haven’t you, Malm?
Now, for the first time, Attorney Cosgrove stands up and calls out, Objection!
Judge Shea asks, The ground of the objection?
Cosgrove says, It is entirely outside the purview of the law, as I understand it, to try to get this accused—
State’s Attorney Bill interrupts: I won’t press it, Your Honor.
Judge Shea says, We will recess until tomorrow.
forty
THE NEXT DAY, State’s Attorney Bill, with Robert Malm’s written confession in his hands, will keep Bob on the stand for just one minute and again with no preliminary niceties. He holds the document out toward him.
This is from your confession, Malm: She dropped on the ground, and a half minute went by. I kind of dropped on my knee. I got the impression that she was dead.
You had pulled that scarf into a tight knot, hadn’t you? And it is reasonable to conclude that you must have known that it was tight enough to choke her, isn’t that correct? And that is what you did it for, isn’t it?
You didn’t try to unloosen that scarf at all—made no effort to unloosen it, did you? And yet you stood over her, put a knot around her neck tight enough to choke her to death, you saw her on the ground, and stood over her. That is correct, isn’t it?
And then you say here [he looks down at the confession and reads], I got the impression that she was dead. Then, I don’t know whether enough time went by for her to be dead, but it looked like it to me.
Bill waves the document in Robert Malm’s stony, expressionless face.
And still you didn’t give her any assistance or try to unloosen that scarf, is that right? As a matter of fact, you stayed there to be sure she was dead, didn’t you? And then you left, didn’t you?
Now, State’s Attorney Bill utilizes a loophole in the law that doesn’t allow a defendant’s prior record to be introduced; instead of asking Bob if he’d committed similar crimes, Bill quotes from the trial transcript Attorney Cosgrove’s question to Bob on the direct: Have you been convicted of other crimes of violence? Cosgrove knows he cannot object, cannot object to a question that he himself asked.
Albert S. Bill says, Two days ago, Mr. Cosgrove asked you the following: Were you convicted in the Superior Court of New London on October 22, 1946, for robbery with violence? And you answered that, didn’t you? You answered, Yes. And you were sentenced to jail at that time, weren’t you?
Robert Malm nods.
For the first time, Bill responds to one of Malm’s many nods. Answer aloud!
Yes.
Bill says, No further questions, and returns to the State’s Attorney’s table.
Cosgrove stands up. He says, That is all, Robert.
Utterly composed, Malm gets down from the stand. Under the nonstop attack by Albert S. Bill, Bob never admits to murdering Irene, denies all, claims no memory whatsoever of the details spelled out so vigorously to him by the spent State’s Attorney.
forty-one
BOB’S APPEAL is centered on three protestations: One, he did not intend to kill Irene; two, the evidence was not the equivalent of two eyewitness testimonies; three, nobody told him about Army Private John Williams’s confession.
The presiding judge for the Connecticut Supreme Court of Errors is Justice J. Baldwin. Baldwin is a name everyone in Hartford knows. Judge J. Baldwin is a descendant of three of Connecticut’s governors and countless congressmen, and ends up serving the court for decades. The newest bridge spanning the Connecticut River was named after his father. My Uncle Ray Kelley is a toll collector on the bridge.
Albert S. Bill begins with a statement of facts. He describes the events of the crime and then goes on to his triple argument. He starts with the easiest—the failure to disclose the statements of Army Private John Williams, meaning that Malm’s confession was not voluntary. Bill argues that the failure to disclose confessions of a third party can in no way cause the accused’s confession to be involuntary . . . in fact, to disclose such information might well cause a suppression rather than an inducement to tell the truth. State’s Attorney Bill caustically dismisses the nondisclosure: It can
hardly be expected that an accused would confess and tell the truth once he has learned somebody else had confessed to the crime.
Bill moves on to the two-witness statute. He submits that the evidence as presented complies with the rule. He says, However, that is not the point! He rebuffs the court’s prerogative to determine if evidence is the equivalent of the testimony of two witnesses: Such must be left to the jury!
Finally, the last point, intent, which is crucial for Bill to demonstrate because if there hadn’t been intent, Malm would be guilty of second-degree murder—not first—or worse, manslaughter. Cosgrove had argued that Malm carried no weapon and therefore didn’t intend to kill anyone. Bill jumps on that: You don’t need a weapon to kill someone, particularly a child!
Then he ridicules Cosgrove’s argument that Bob didn’t have enough time to form a willful premeditation. He argues that there was ample time, based on how long Malm was worried about the consequences of his sexual attack: He had enough time to formulate plans to extricate himself from this situation even to the extent of killing the girl when his threats and the physical pain he directed at her by choking her, failed. And because he dropped to one knee beside her after she’d fallen, he was undoubtedly making sure he had carried out his intent and that she was dead. Clearly, he wasn’t intending to help her.
Then the State’s Attorney elucidates: The scarf was knotted so tightly around the girl’s neck that it was impossible for the coroner to untie or loosen it and it could not be removed without the use of scissors! The accused intended to strangle the little girl to death.
Bill lets that sink in. Then: In determining the state of mind of the accused, the court is not limited alone to the accused’s own statement as to his intent. As a matter of fact the court has a right to determine his state of mind, and did conclude from the accused’s own words that his mind was in a state of worry and this coupled with the actions as he described them justified their conclusion that he fully intended to commit the crime.
Girls of Tender Age: A Memoir Page 20
