‘In my profession, one ceases to be surprised at anything.’
‘I can understand that. It’s for the same reason, too, isn’t it, that one ceases to put much trust in his fellowmen?’
‘Possibly.’
‘Yet you say you trusted Laurence Planter – and without knowing anymore about him than that he had been a sailor?’
‘All I can say is that I did trust him. Obviously.’
Galloway lashed a sharp finger at him.
‘Then why did you hire the detective Broome?’
Bannister jerked up. His face whitened.
‘We live in a rather deserted section,’ he began.
‘One minute, please! You have lived there how long?’
‘For eight years.’
‘Eight years! For eight years you have lived in a “rather deserted” section of Long Island. And then, suddenly, only a few weeks after hiring the defendant, you feel called on to keep a detective on the premises!’
‘Your Honor! I fail to see what possible connection the District Attorney’s present line of questioning can have in this case. If I had not trusted my chauffeur, I would have dismissed him. Certainly I would not have gone to the expense of hiring a detective to watch him.’
Judge Ditchburne nodded.
‘Can the District Attorney justify his present questioning?’
‘Your Honor, I believe that the hiring of the detective Broome has a direct bearing on this case, and propose to show what that bearing is – now.’
‘Very well.’
‘I propose to show also that the defendant was hired because of his good looks and general physique and because he could not be trusted.’
‘Proceed.’
‘Isn’t it true, Mr Bannister, that you had used the detective Broome in certain of your cases having to do with divorce cases?’
‘I am not in the habit of accepting such cases.’
‘No, but you have handled a number, haven’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you found it expedient to hire Broome to help procure evidence, in spite of the fact that his fees were high.’
‘Yes.’
‘You found it expedient because you knew his whole reputation and training had been in the procuring of such evidence?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you mean to tell us that you would hire a man trained in divorce actions, receiving high fees, merely to watch your house?’
‘Partly, yes.’
‘What do you mean, “partly”?’
Bannister looked at the judge.
‘I refuse to answer on the grounds—’
Galloway plunged in.
‘Exactly what I thought! You didn’t hire him to watch your house at all. You hired him to watch your wife. You didn’t trust her with the new chauffeur – but you wouldn’t fire him, either. You wanted to leave them together – you wanted evidence. That’s why you hired Broome to watch – instead of firing Laurence. Isn’t that true – isn’t it?’
‘No!’ said Bannister. ‘I never had any thought of having Laurence watched.’
‘Whom did you want watched?’
Bannister didn’t answer. He just scowled angrily.
Judge Ditchburne broke in.
‘I fail to see any connection between that and the case at hand, as the District Attorney promised to show.’
‘The connection would be apparent if the questions were answered truthfully.’
‘I think, then, since Mr Bannister has declined to answer on perfectly legal grounds, that the present line of questioning had best be dropped.’
‘That’s all then,’ said Galloway. ‘Your witness, Mr Bannister.’
Bannister climbed down off the witness chair and stood in front of the jury.
‘As defense counsel,’ he said, ‘I should like to ask the witness, myself, that is, a few questions. Why did I say, on seeing the cap in Lee Grisby’s hand, that my chauffeur must have killed him? Because that seemed, at the moment, to be the logical explanation. Why did I suggest that a search be made for him at once? Was it because I feared he would leave the country, as the District Attorney would have you believe? No, it was because I sincerely desired his apprehension at the earliest possible moment, to clear up the mystery. When I went out to my home to look for him, with the police, and we found that he had run away, why did I say, “That proves it. He did kill Grisby”? Because it seemed perfectly obvious that he had committed the crime, otherwise why would he run away?
‘Well, what is so damaging about that? He did shoot Grisby. He did run away. The defense has never claimed otherwise. The defendant has made two such confessions in which he freely admits it. But in each he contends that the shooting was an accident. Was it? I had to know. If I was to undertake his defense, I had to be certain in my own mind that it had been an accident – it was my own partner who was killed. After his voluntary surrender, I questioned him. I talked to him and was convinced that he had had no premeditated ideas of murder – that it had been an accident.
‘I asked him, then, why he had told the police that he had thrown the body in the Sound, when obviously he hadn’t, as it had been found dry on Wall Street. He explained that he had been rattled by the questions put to him by the police. He explained also why he had run away when they came. He was afraid that perhaps the police wouldn’t believe that it had been an accident. But then he had decided that the most honorable course was to put his trust in them and in you, the jury – and he thereupon surrendered, out of his own innate sense of honor. That’s all.’
Galloway smiled as Bannister came back to his chair.
‘A very pretty speech,’ he said getting up.
I had thought it was, too. For a minute I had begun to think that maybe Bannister could swing an acquittal, after all.
But then Galloway pulled a surprise.
‘Call Mrs Bannister,’ he said.
III
I knew what was coming, all right. So did Elsa. She walked to the witness stand with her head up, not looking at anyone. You could hear the jury gasp when they saw her, she looked so beautiful.
Galloway stood by while she was sworn in and then tried to make a hit by helping her up into the chair.
The first thing she did was to look over at me and smile. I tried to smile back.
Bannister flushed. He looked from one to the other of us. He couldn’t make out just what was going on, but whatever it was he didn’t like it.
Galloway smiled up at Elsa.
‘Now, Mrs Bannister,’ he said, ‘I’d like you to tell the jury exactly what happened on the night of August eleventh, between the hours of ten and twelve.’
What he was talking about was the night before Grisby was shot, when Elsa and I had lain in each other’s arms on the beach.
‘It all seems blurred, somehow,’ she said. ‘I don’t seem to recall much about the night of – the night of August eleventh.’
‘Then perhaps it will refresh your memory,’ said Galloway, ‘if I remind you that this was the night before Lee Grisby’s murder.’
‘Oh… yes.’
‘It might refresh your memory still further to tell you that it was also the night on which Laurence Planter was making final arrangements to leave the country.’
‘Objection,’ said Bannister. ‘Both to the word “murder” and to the inference that death of deceased was premeditated.’
‘Sustained,’ said Judge Ditchburne. ‘The District Attorney knows better than to lead the witness.’
‘I was only attempting to save time,’ said Galloway. ‘The facts will be brought out by the witness herself. To proceed, please, Mrs Bannister—’
‘I remember now. On the night of August eleventh, at about eleven o’clock, I phoned for the car to be brought around to the house. It was hot; I couldn’t sleep. I thought that a drive might help.’
‘Was the call answered?’
She hesitated.
‘No,’ she said.
‘So then what did you do?’
‘I went to the garage to see what might have happened. The car was there. I thought then that perhaps Laurence was asleep and hadn’t heard the phone.’
‘And was he?’
‘No. I started for the door. And just then he came out.’
‘He came out. And what did he say?’
‘I – I noticed that he had a bag with him. I asked him why he hadn’t answered the phone.’
She was getting into deep water, all right, but she couldn’t help herself. She was under oath.
‘And he said – what?’
‘He said that he was leaving.’
The way it came out, it was one of the most damaging things in the whole case.
‘Were you surprised?’ asked Galloway.
‘Why, yes – I was.’
‘Then he had never mentioned such a desire before?’
‘No. He’d always seemed very pleased with his position. At least, I’d always thought that, without questioning it, really.’
‘And what excuse did he give for wanting to leave?’
‘He said that he wasn’t cut out to be a chauffeur, he was a sailor. That was the first I had known of it.’
‘I see. He was beginning to tire of the humdrum life of a chauffeur. He wanted life, action, adventure. He didn’t want to struggle along all his life at a mere eighteen dollars a week. Is that it?’
‘I – I don’t know. I don’t think it was the money, so much as—’
‘But it was the money that led him to take the job, wasn’t it?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Then why did he decide to throw that money over?’
‘I don’t know. I told you, he wanted to go back to sea.’
‘All right, then. Let’s turn the question around. Why did he decide to stay, if he had his mind set on going back to sea? Everything shows that he was determined to go – his bag all packed, his stealthy exit, his very insolence in refusing to answer the phone. Why answer, if he was leaving? He wouldn’t care about holding his job, then. And yet – and yet?’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t believe I understand the question.’
‘And yet something caused him to stay. What was it?’
‘Why – I suppose it was I who caused him to stay.’
I almost jumped, it was such a surprise.
‘You! How?’ asked Galloway.
‘I told him that we were well pleased with his work as a chauffeur. I suggested that perhaps he was acting hastily, and that it would be wise to see my husband first – in the morning.’
‘You hinted at an increase in pay?’
‘No. I—’
‘But that’s what you wanted him to see Mr Bannister about, wasn’t it?’
‘No! I suggested that because I was sure that by then he’d have a different idea entirely. As a matter of fact, I didn’t attach much importance to it at all, and I’m sure that’s all it was – an impulse.’
‘Just another whim, you mean?’
She didn’t answer. She could have made it bad for me by saying that I’d been drinking. Not a word about that.
‘Well, tell me, please, Mrs Bannister. You often saw him with Mr Grisby, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘How did they seem to get along?’
‘Very well. At least, Mr Grisby always spoke highly of Laurence. He expected big things of him.’
‘But hardly what actually happened, I imagine. Now, on the night of August twelfth, what time did Mr Grisby arrive at the house?’
‘About ten o’clock, the maid said. I wasn’t there.’
‘I see. At what time did you return?’
‘It was about ten-thirty. Mr Grisby had already left, of course.’
‘Did you call for the car from the station?’
‘Yes. There was no answer.’
‘So you walked from the station?’
‘Yes. It isn’t far to the house and I wanted the walk.’
‘Was Laurence there when you got home?’
‘No, not at that time.’
‘How long does it take to drive to the station – and back?’
‘Why, about five or ten minutes.’
‘I see. And what time, Mrs Bannister, did Laurence return from driving Mr Grisby to the station?’
I looked right into her eyes, praying. But she didn’t even hesitate.
‘At about eleven – in fact, a little before. Not much. I saw his shadow moving in the garage. Something seemed wrong; I went over to ask him about it.’
‘Did he seem nervous or frightened?’
‘Yes – but he had been in an accident with the car. He had hit a truck. The whole front of the car was crushed in and the glass was broken. He was shaken up, naturally.’
‘And did he say what had happened to Mr Grisby?’
‘No.’
‘Well, now, you say that he was about to leave on the night of August eleventh, and yet he was still there the next night, when Mr Grisby was killed. I suppose, then, that he did see Mr Bannister in the morning, as you suggested, and that he had been offered an increase in pay?’
‘No; he didn’t even talk to Mr Bannister about it. He was to drive us into town the next morning. As it happened, I came out to the car first. Laurence told me then that he had decided to stay. Naturally, that ended it; there was no reason to talk to Mr Bannister about it.’
‘Did he tell you why he had changed his mind about leaving?’
‘No, but as I said, it was only an impulse.’
‘Then he didn’t tell you his reason for staying?’
‘No, but—’
‘Well, now, let’s get this straight. You say that on the night of August eleventh, you called for the car to go for a drive. Did you go?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you stop anywhere along the way?’
‘Why, yes. It was so hot, I decided to stop for a while at the beach.’
‘I see. Did you leave the car and go onto the beach?’
‘Yes… for a while.’
‘And did Laurence go with you?’
Bannister was leaning forward tensely.
‘Why, yes.’
Galloway almost hissed the next question.
‘He kissed you, didn’t he?’
A wave of sound rose up – then suddenly there wasn’t a whisper.
Bannister swung up onto his feet.
‘Objection!’ he shouted.
‘I should think the defense counsel would object,’ said Galloway, bringing laughter. ‘The witness will please answer.’
Elsa looked at the judge appealingly.
‘Is the question pertinent?’ asked Ditchburne.
‘It is very pertinent,’ said Galloway. ‘I want to know why she is protecting this boy.’
‘How do you mean – protecting him?’
‘By saying that he was back by eleven o’clock on the night of the murder! Now, Mrs Bannister, did he kiss you that night on the beach?’
Elsa looked wildly at Bannister, but there was no hope there. He said nothing.
‘The witness may answer,’ said the judge.
Elsa said then, almost eagerly:
‘Yes!’
Bannister sagged in his chair.
‘And that’s why Laurence stayed, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know—’
‘Well, I would have stayed,’ said Galloway.
A laugh went up, but Galloway wasn’t laughing himself. He went on:
‘And that’s why you lied about the time he was back, isn’t it? You wanted to protect him!’
‘No!’ she said. ‘He was back before eleven. I know – I looked at the clock.’
‘Remembe
r, you are under oath.’
‘I still say he was back before eleven o’clock. You don’t like the truth because it means he couldn’t have been down at Wall Street the night Mr Grisby was murdered – and he wasn’t!’
Galloway came close to her.
‘Mrs Bannister,’ he boomed, ‘do you know the laws in this state against perjury?’
I gripped the chair with both hands and waited.
‘Yes!’ she flared.
‘But you admit he kissed you the night before?’
‘Yes – but it didn’t mean anything.’
‘It didn’t mean anything! Looking at you, I leave that to the jury. But I would also like to bring out this point: Laurence Planter didn’t have a cent, as the saying goes. Even though you had expressed a romantic interest, he knew that after all you considered him just a chauffeur. To hold your interest, he would need money – and when he saw Mr Grisby draw the money from the bank—’
‘Objection!’ shouted Bannister. ‘The District Attorney’s remarks are merely conjecture.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Galloway. ‘And perhaps not.’
He looked at the jurors to make sure they’d got the reason for my staying – to hold Elsa’s interest by getting the five thousand from Grisby that I’d seen him draw out of the bank. They had, all right.
‘Well, thank you, Mrs Bannister,’ said Galloway. ‘Your witness, Mr Bannister.’
Elsa caught her breath. We looked at each other, my heart pounding.
Bannister went up to the witness stand slowly. He didn’t seem to want to question Elsa, yet he thought he had to, I guess.
‘You testified,’ he said, ‘that Laurence was about to leave on the night of August eleventh and that you advised him to stay. You testified further that in doing this you held out no promise of a possible increase in pay. You had no reason to believe, then, that he was dissatisfied with the amount he was receiving?’
‘No, none whatsoever.’
‘Then you are quite sure that money, or the lack of it, had nothing to do with his wanting to leave?’
‘Yes. I’m sure that money had nothing to do with it.’
‘Then you are equally sure that it had nothing to do with his decision to stay?’
‘Why—’
She started to answer. No words came. I didn’t know whether it was the heat or whether she figured Bannister suspected the kiss had meant more than she said and was getting too close for comfort. Whatever it was, her eyes suddenly filmed over and she slumped down in the chair.
If I Die Before I Wake Page 12
