The Dominici Affair

by Martin Kitchen

  Getting nowhere with this obdurate witness, Bousquet called Clovis to the stand. Short and stocky, he bore a close facial resemblance to his father. He wore a pair of velvet trousers, a jersey, and a gray jacket. Spruce and clean-shaven, he appeared to be calm. Unlike the rest of the clan, he gave answers that were clear and unequivocal. He began by stating categorically that his son had not lent Zézé his bicycle until two weeks after the crime, on 18 August. Zézé had said that he had given the bicycle back on 18 August, thus sowing further confusion, but it did not alter the fact that only Gustave’s bicycle was at the Grand’ Terre on the day of the murders. Clovis also said that he had first seen the carbine when he went into the shed to look for some string, but he did not specify the date.

  On 5 August 1952 Gustave had told him that he had heard shots in the night and that he had found the body of a little girl. She had groaned a little but was dead by the time he approached her. Clovis had asked him whether he had alerted the gendarmes, and Gustave had replied that he had. Clovis then went to look at her and returned to the Grand’ Terre with Faustin Roure, who had checked the landslide. It was then that he had seen the bodies of the parents. One was under a blanket; the other, covered by a camp bed.

  Two days later Sébeille had shown him the murder weapon. He recognized it and had felt weak in the knees. Bousquet asked him how he had reacted. He said he knew that the weapon had come from the Grand’ Terre, so he asked Gustave about it. He told him that their father was the one who had fired the shots. At first Clovis had refused to believe it. He knew that his father was quick tempered, but he could not believe that Gaston was capable of committing such a terrible crime.

  Clovis then repeated his story that when Gustave was in jail, his parents had asked him to sleep overnight at the Grand’ Terre.4 One evening, when Gaston was in a terrible rage, he had blurted out in patois, “I’ve killed three. I could easily kill another.”5 Clovis still found this hard to believe, but when Gustave was released from prison he said that at four o’clock in the morning of 5 August 1952, while he was taking out the goats to pasture, their father had told him everything. The presiding judge asked Clovis why he accused his father of murder. He replied that it was because of what Gustave had told him. Asked whether he was certain, he stated that he always stuck to his word, even though it was a terrible thing for a son to have to accuse his father. Clovis was now obviously under great strain and had difficulty in maintaining his composure.

  Asked about a letter that he had written at his wife’s entreaty to Gustave’s father-in-law, François Barth, and called upon him to encourage Gustave to “tell the whole truth,” Clovis said he had done it so Gustave would clear himself of all suspicion. Bousquet asked him whether, once his father had confessed to the crime, he still suspected his brother. He replied that he did not know what to think and then, after a brief pause, said that he had never suspected Gustave.

  Zézé was the first to appear on the witness stand at Wednesday’s session, the seventh day of the trial. Captain Albert, head of the Forcalquier gendarmerie, said that Zézé’s testimony on 5 August 1952 had been a fabric of lies and that his alibi for the previous night had been proven false. Pollak agreed with Albert that Zézé had lied, but he pointed out that it was important to find out why he had done so. Zézé was questioned throughout the morning, but the net result was extremely meager. When asked why he had lied he simply shrugged his shoulders, saying that he did not know. Bousquet asked him whether he had spent the night of 4–5 August 1952 at the Grand’ Terre. He artfully replied that he had not slept there since he was eight years old. He was sixteen in 1952. This agreed with Gaston’s answers to this question. On 4 August Zézé had helped his mother water the beans in the family’s new farm. He had returned that evening to the farmhouse at La Serre, from which they were moving soon, and had eaten supper. He spent the night alone there, his mother having left to rejoin her husband at the new farm. Contrary to his previous statement that Gustave had stopped off at La Serre on his way back from seeing Faustin Roure at Peyruis the evening of 4 August, Zézé now stated that he had simply seen him ride past on his motorcycle. Bousquet asked him why he had lied. Zézé again said that he did not know.

  When Gaston was asked what he thought of his grandson’s testimony, he replied that he was a little crook who went poaching with Gustave. Although almost all the peasants in the area were dedicated poachers, to describe someone as a “poacher” was an extreme insult. He then rambled on, asking why Clovis was accusing him of the murders when he had thought it was probably Gustave who had committed the crime. He then returned to his denunciation of Gustave and Zézé. After some hesitation he said, “Both of them are poachers.” Clearly Gaston was suggesting that Gustave and Zézé were out poaching on the night of 4–5 August and were thus implicated in the crime.

  As Zézé had testified that his aunt Yvette had said that Anne and Elizabeth had come to the Grand’ Terre to ask for water, the Marrians were called back and asked whether they knew if the Drummonds had a canvas bucket with them. Neither of the Marrians could answer this question. Mrs. Marrian had previously testified that she had seen a canvas bucket, but she was unable to say with any confidence whether they had taken it with them.

  Germaine Perrin—Zézé’s mother and Gaston’s daughter—readily admitted that there were problems between the Perrins and the Dominicis, but she was unable to offer any useful evidence in the case at hand. Pollak cried out in desperation, “We refuse to give up when faced with the lies of the Perrin family!” Paul Maillet was equally reticent in answering the questions fired at him, provoking Pollak into histrionic outbursts of frustrated rage.

  Gustave was called to the witness stand when the court resumed at three o’clock that afternoon. He did not create a good impression. Although a handsome, well-built man, he had a weak mouth and a mirthless smile and spoke with a thin, high-pitched voice. He soon became enmeshed in a series of lies and falsehoods to the point of appearing almost feebleminded. He began by blurting out, “I’ve been lying all the time. My father is innocent!” He then launched into a garbled account of events since the evening of 4 August 1952. In answer to the judge’s question why he had continually changed his story, he said that the police had told him that they had to “finish this business.” He said, “They accused me of all manner of things, and they beat me. They simply wanted to make me lie. Now I say that my father is innocent, just like all the other family members do. We don’t know anything about this business.” He accused Clovis of having thought up the idea of denouncing their father, whereupon Gaston leaped to his feet yelling, “That’s not true! You were the first to accuse me!”

  Gustave cut a pathetic figure. Obviously terrified of his wife, his father, and his brother Clovis, he became entangled in a web of lies and contradictions. His pathetic efforts to defend his father only served to make the case against him stronger, and the poorly prepared defense team did nothing to help. Judge Bousquet, unable to restrain his contempt for the witness, denounced him in no uncertain terms:

  You are a coward, a creature without the slightest trace of guts. You were the first to accuse your father, to make him into a suspect accused of murder. Now you claim that the police beat you up in order to get out of you what you now claim to be a pack of lies. You claim that you were forced into lying. Thus you were prepared to lie and accuse your father of murder and you continue to lie. You are a coward and your behavior is unconscionable.

  Gustave appeared to be unmoved by this outburst. Dressed in his Sunday best, he stood there impassively, a look of utter stupidity on his face, moving nervously from one foot to another. Judge Bousquet, Advocate General Rozan, Deputy Public Prosecutor Louis Sabatier, and the attorney Claude Delorme got nothing out of him but an uneasy smile, a blank stare, and endless assertions that the entire Dominici clan was innocent. The defense team of Pollak, Charrier, and Charles-Alfred were left equally frustrated. The more Gustave lied the more the conviction grew that he knew a great de
al about the crime. Gustave, the key witness whose testimony had led to Gaston’s arrest, now retracted everything and thus placed the entire case against Gaston in serious question.

  The judge reminded Gustave that he had said upon finding Elizabeth’s body that he had not gone to see her parents because he thought they had murdered their own daughter. At this point there were murmurs in court. He then asked how Gustave could possibly have thought such a thing. Gustave replied, “It happens all the time!” At that there were howls of protest. Bousquet asked him if he really thought that it was a common occurrence for parents to kill their children. At this Gustave replied that he had not realized that they were her parents. Having been caught in this obvious absurdity, he blandly stated that everything he had ever said was a lie. Five minutes later, to general astonishment, he announced that he had never told a lie. Shortly afterward he retracted this obvious falsehood.

  Clovis was recalled to the witness stand to answer more questions about the Rock-Ola. When questioned about the similarity between the oil used in it and his own weapons, Clovis confidently asserted that the carbine had never been in his possession. He further claimed that he had never gone poaching. He said that the carbine was kept at the Grand’ Terre, but he did not know who owned it. It took the court more than an hour to understand that Clovis recognized the weapon, but that did not necessarily imply that he knew to whom it belonged. He then said he did not believe his father had taken the gun with him when he first went outside. After all, why should he take a gun that he had never used with him to walk a couple of hundred yards along the railway line? This implied that Gaston had deliberately gone to collect it with intent to use it against the Drummonds.

  When Pollak asked Clovis why he had never mentioned the carbine when he had accused his father in front of the magistrates, he answered that he did not want it to be known that it had come from the farm. Pollak then demanded to know why Clovis had not revealed the ownership of the carbine when it had first been shown to him. Clovis remained silent. A long discussion ensued, during which the defense pointed out certain minor inconsistencies in Clovis’s testimony regarding the murder weapon.

  Gaston was then asked what he had to say. He stood up, pointed at his son, and with his voice trembling with rage, claimed that Clovis was bearing false witness. He yelled, “I’ll tell you the pure and simple truth. I’m a loyal Frenchman. And you [pointing at Clovis] lie every time you breathe. I’m going to refresh your memory. First of all on Christmas Day you came to eat at the Grand’ Terre. You now say that you couldn’t eat anything because of your worries and that you couldn’t eat a thing. That was not the real reason. You were not hungry because you’d partied all night in Peyruis. You were completely plastered and puked all the way. Bastard!” Clovis, equally furious, swore that he was telling the truth. Gaston said that he was a liar and ought to be ashamed of himself. His final remark was to yell, “I have a clean conscience, but your brother and you—” As things were now getting out of hand, the judge prudently adjourned the court for lunch.

  When the court resumed in the afternoon Clovis’s wife, Rose, stated that her husband had been very secretive about the whole affair. She had been very annoyed at his reticence, and in an argument on this score, Clovis had said that he hoped that his father would either hand himself over or write a confession and then kill himself. She then said that the story that Clovis had got blind drunk that Christmas Eve was a complete fabrication but confirmed that he had vomited on the way back from the Grand’ Terre on 25 December. Finally, she spoke of the letter he had written to Yvette’s father, in which he implored him to make sure that Gustave and his wife told the truth. The rumor was that Gustave was guilty, but Rose believed he was absolutely innocent and wanted him to clear his name.

  There not being enough time that day to question Gustave once more, the court agreed that some minor witnesses suggested by the defense might be heard. Various passersby during the night of 4–5 August 1952 were questioned. Nothing of any value transpired.

  The eighth day of the trial began with yet another confrontation with Gustave. He was soon entangled in a series of demonstrable lies. Sabatier for the prosecution announced that he did not want to go over all the witness’s lies again. It was up to the jury to decide which parts of his testimony were true and which were false. Charles-Alfred for the defense announced that his team refused to question Gustave, saying that it was beneath the men’s dignity to question a man like that. The courtroom was getting restless as the situation was once again clearly out of hand.

  Bousquet called an adjournment, after which he consented to the defense team’s request to go outside and look at a Hillman, similar to the one owned by the Drummonds, ostensibly to see how Sir Jack might have wounded his hand on the rear bumper. The red gowns of the judge and prosecution and the black gowns of the defense team fluttered around the car as they wandered around in the mud for an hour. It proved to be a totally pointless exercise that cast no light on the case. The court resumed deliberations at 11:35 a.m.

  Judge Bousquet called Roger Périès to the witness stand to hear his version of Gustave’s interrogation. It was a most unusual move to call the examining magistrate in a case as a witness. Examining Magistrate Périès was placed under oath. His statement went as follows:

  I learned that Gustave wanted to speak to me. I received him. He told me that he had been mistreated, but had not been beaten. I asked him whether he had any bruises. He was unable to show me any. If he had done so I would have called for a doctor to examine him. Anyway, the magistrates did not leave the law courts during the three days of interrogation between 12 and 15 November. If there had been any ill treatment, we would not necessarily have heard any screams, but we would certainly have noticed something.

  Gustave replied that he had told Périès that he had been punched in the stomach. Périès flatly denied that there was any evidence to support such an accusation.

  French court procedure required at this point that the accused be given the right to question Périès in his capacity as prosecuting magistrate. Bousquet refused to make such a ruling, thus provoking an indignant outburst from the attorney Scapel, who was acting as representative of the Marseille bar to make sure that due procedure was observed.6 He demanded that the hearing should be suspended. He invoked the imprescriptible rights of the defense, and with loud support from Gaston’s defense team, he insisted that the proceedings be suspended.

  Bousquet, who was visibly irritated, brusquely refused this request and continued to question Gustave amid constant interruptions from the defense lawyers. He concentrated on Gustave’s different accounts of what had happened on the night of 4–5 August 1952. Gustave blurted out that he had heard screams that night. When reminded that he had previously insisted that he had heard nothing, he replied that he had “thought” he had heard them. Gustave was gradually worn down until he finally blurted out, “I’ve been lying all the time! It’s entirely false! My father is innocent. They made me lie.” Bousquet was scarcely able to control himself and yelled at Gustave, “This is monstrous! You were lying when you accused your father. This is more than a lack of courage; it is more than cowardice. It is unspeakable!”

  At this point Gaston stood up and with a trembling voice said, “Gustave, I pardon you, but tell the truth. In what of a state have you placed your family? Look at me now, sitting in the dock. It’s shameful. He [Gustave] has disowned his mother, who gave him her breast. He has disowned his brothers, with whom he led a joyful life. He disowned his father. Ah well, a son! They treat me like a sheep in the fold. You have committed a mortal sin in accusing your own father.”

  On hearing this emotionally charged statement, the courtroom for once fell silent. Gustave muttered that he had never accused his father of anything.

  Gaston then blurted out, “When you were in the alfalfa field with another, after having heard the screams, you knew where the weapon was and where it came from. It didn’t come from us. But it didn’t come
from far away!” Gustave muttered, “I didn’t go into the alfalfa field that night, not with anybody.”

  Bousquet let father and son continue this bizarre exchange as if it were of little concern to him. He then asked Gustave how many shots he had heard. He replied there were five or six. When the judge pointed out that the previous day Gustave had said that he had thought he only had heard some screams, Gustave murmured something about having thought so.

  The courtroom became increasingly restless as Gustave replied to further questions with denials, silence, or “I don’t know.” Gaston again stood up.

  Gaston (loudly): I want to say to Gustave: you know the truth. Think of the entire family. Think of the honor of all my grandchildren. Tell the truth!

  Gustave: I’m thinking of that. I don’t know a thing

  Gaston: So, you prefer to let your father stay in prison. Your father, who never harmed anybody.

  Gustave: It’s all Clovis’s fault!

  Gaston: You were the first to accuse me. I’ve said that I pardon you, but tell the truth.

  Gustave remained silent.

  Bousquet, rather than following up on this interesting lead, in a tone of utter contempt, ordered him to return to his seat and adjourned the court. Deputy Director of the National Police Charles Chenevier, who later led an inquiry into the case, wrote that Bousquet had lost an opportunity to reveal the truth and sabotaged the entire trial when he ordered the adjournment. Chenevier later wrote: “Law faculties now take this case as an example of what not to do when presiding over a criminal trial.”7 Gustave’s “truth” was never revealed.

  Clovis’s brother-in-law, Jacky Barth, was called briefly to the stand. He was asked why he had not reported to the police that Gustave had told him on the morning of 5 August 1952 that Elizabeth had groaned when first he saw her. He replied that he had not even thought of it.