The trial started to-morrow. By the end of the week, it would all be over and done with and he would be an insignificant part of history, forgotten by everyone but Patricia, Catalina, and, if he were back in prison, the warders.
Patricia had said again and again that when Catalina was on oath in the witness-box it must be possible to prove the truth. Cathart had said that if the truth had not been told, it might come out once Catalina was on the stand. Was either of them right? He, David, knew that the truth had not been told, but what would really happen when Catalina was in the witness-box? People who didn’t know her were often attracted by her mercurial character, finding it refreshingly different from what they were used to. They were unable to observe it long enough to realise that it was hopelessly unstable, not just mercurial. The jury and the judge would not see her for very long. They might accept her as a sympathetic person, wronged by her philandering husband. They might listen to her lies and believe them unless there was ample proof to refute them. What proof was there?
He lit yet another cigarette. For weeks, months, years, he had longed to get rid of Catalina. Since meeting Patricia, that desire had been very much greater. He was now free to many Patricia because he had never been married to Catalina. But through proving his right to this freedom, he had possibly made certain he would never enjoy it. Catalina was determined to destroy him. She was no fool, but could be a shrewd, calculating woman. Only her own character might let her down. Would she be able to keep herself in check when in the witness-box? Would her hatred be so strong it would force her to keep a tight self-control, where a lesser hate might mean she would lose it?
He cursed loudly, violently. The greatest torment to imprisonment was the prisoner’s own mind.
In the robing-room, on the first floor and to the rear of the building, Gretnor put on his wing collar and tabs. His clerk undid the strap round the text books and carefully piled them up on the large table after checking their titles: he was a man who checked everything a dozen times.
Illington entered the room and dropped his red bag on the table. “’Morning, Jack,’morning, Wallace.”
“’Morning, Richard.”
“Good morning, sir,” said the clerk.
Illington hung his rolled-up umbrella on one of the coat stands. “Heard you had a good case over the road last week, Jack?”
“It was a good one to win, if that’s what you mean,” said Gretnor.
“I was really talking about the fees they say you had the nerve to charge.”
“The fees are nothing to do with me, old boy.”
“Blame everything on to Wallace, eh? I don’t know which one of you is the bigger crook when it comes to extracting the last farthing out of a client. Beats me how you get the solicitors to play.”
The clerk smiled, gratified by the compliment to his professional ability. He held out Gretnor’s frock coat for the other to put on.
“What about today?” asked Illington.
Gretnor shrugged his shoulders. “God knows.” He put on the coat. “What are the odds against us?”
“She’s the kind of woman who’ll crack if the pressure’s enough, I’d say.”
“Is she? I wonder.”
“The thing that really beats me about this case is how in the hell Plesence ever came to marry that woman in the first place?”
“They say love blinds.”
“He must have been deaf as well as blind.”
“A ship at sea, the tropics, stars, moonlight.” Gretnor spoke to his clerk. “That sort of combination might even catch out an old misogynist like you, Wallace? Eh?”
“No, sir, I do not go abroad.”
“Why ever not?”
“Too many foreigners, sir.”
“You know,” said Illington, “the man’s unique.”
“He also knows a bit about brief fees,” replied Gretnor, as he put on his wig and adjusted it.
Charlton again prosecuted. His opening speech was as detailed as ever and he spent a considerable time explaining to the jury how it was that Catalina Plesence, otherwise Catalina Larraga, could appear to give evidence for the prosecution. He began to explain how it would have been different had the marriage been null and void not by Common Law but by virtue of the Matrimonial Causes Act, but at this point the judge stopped him and suggested the jury be left to consider no more than they were bound to consider. Mr. Justice Fletcher did not have a very high opinion of the average jury’s ability to understand the more abstruse legal arguments.
“…Finally,” said Charlton, “I want to point out to you once more that although motive is not an essential factor that must be proved in a court of law before a charge of murder can be substantiated, by its very nature it is of very great significance.
“We have in this case the clearest possible motive for the killing. The prisoner had lost all interest in the woman he had no reason to doubt was his legal wife and had fallen in love with another woman. He asked his wife for a divorce. She refused him a divorce, as she was entitled to do, and instructed her lawyers to sue for a judicial separation. A judicial separation, members of the jury, falls short of a divorce and it does not allow either party legally to marry again. The prisoner wanted more than anything else to marry Mrs. Brakes. He pleaded with his wife — for so I shall continue to refer to Catalina Plesence — to give him a divorce, but she refused. As you will hear, she has been brought up with a stricter regard for the sanctity of marriage than is perhaps common to-day. She will testify that she was hoping — perhaps impossibly, but hoping nevertheless — that he would overcome his infatuation and return to her. The prisoner tried to bribe her to make her change her mind: he offered her as much as three thousand pounds, but she continued to refuse.
“This was the point in time, members of the jury, when the prisoner moved from pleas to threats. He said that if she didn’t give him a divorce, he would kill her. It was a threat he repeated, again and again. She refused to believe he was serious...until the day that Gual Larraga came to the house, had a drink, and ate a celery straw. He died, in the utmost agony, roughly one and a half hours after eating that straw. Later, tests showed that three other of the straws were poisoned.
“Members of the jury, in that tin there had originally been ten straws. The prisoner never ate them because he disliked celery, but he knew his wife loved them. They were, therefore, the perfect receptacle for the poison which he intended to administer to her as a warning, a most terrible warning, of what would happen to her if she didn’t grant him the divorce he so desperately wanted. Larraga arrived unexpectedly at the house, had a drink and a straw. We may wonder why the prisoner did not take steps to prevent Larraga eating what might be one of the poisoned straws? Was it because he so tragically and mistakenly believed that the amount of poison in each straw wasn’t enough to do more than cause severe stomach ache so that even if Larraga were unlucky enough to eat one of them it didn’t really matter? Was he scared to draw attention to these straws in case his wife guessed the truth? The answer you must judge for yourselves: the facts, however, are certain. Larraga, or George Cabbot, ate one of the poisoned straws, intended for Catalina Plesence, and died one of the most appalling of deaths.
“Members of the jury, let me now mention something that his lordship will explain more fully at a later date. If a man intends evil, then normally he must accept any and all consequences of that evil: if he intends to murder A by poison but fails because B, by mistake, drinks that poison and dies, then he is guilty of murder even though he had no intention whatsoever of killing B — indeed, might not even have ever met B. That is the law. It is also the law that if a man deliberately administers a noxious article with wrongful intent, he is responsible for all the results of this administration even if such results go far, far beyond his original intentions. In the present case, the prisoner deliberately set out to administer poison to his wife but maybe only with the intention of frightening her. The poison was far stronger than he realised and a third person
, by mistake, took it. That third person died. The prisoner is guilty of murder even though he did not intend to kill or even to injure the man who died.”
An elderly man named Parsons was in the witness-box.
“You are conversant with the divorce laws of the United States of America?”
“I am.”
“Were you asked to advise on the legal position of the marriage between Gual Jose Cirilo Larraga and Catalina Mary Magdalene Larraga?”
“I was. I was presented with all the necessary papers and informed of all relevant facts. I confirmed the domicile of the parties at the time of their marriage and their divorce.”
“Will you summarise any conclusions you came to?”
“Since the divorce laws vary from state to state in America there is always the possibility that a divorce granted in one state will not be held valid in another. Thus adultery may be the only grounds of divorce in one state, whilst another will grant a divorce on slight evidence of cruelty — that is, slight by the standards in our own country. Gual and Catalina Larraga were granted a divorce in South Dakota at a time when they were undoubtedly domiciled in Massachusetts, on grounds that by Massachusetts’ law were insufficient. The divorce was not recognised in Massachusetts.”
“Can you tell us how that divorce, then, is recognised in this country?”
“If it is invalid by the laws of Massachusetts, it is invalid by the laws of England. Our law demands that a foreign divorce be held to be valid in the land of domicile.”
“By English law, then, what is the position of this marriage?”
“It still exists.”
“And what is the position of any subsequent marriage of either party?”
“It will be bigamous, even though the party concerned believed beyond any shadow of doubt that he or she was entitled to marry again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Parsons.”
Gretnor half stood up. “No questions.”
The marriage of David Reginald Plesence to Catalina Mary Magdalene Larraga — or Ulyett, as she had called herself at the time, reverting to her maiden name — was proved. Evidence was given that there had been no subsequent divorce. Proof of identification of Larraga was made. A pathologist testified he had carried out a post mortem on the dead man who was suffering from no disease which could have caused the sudden death.
Reacher, a noted toxicologist, took the stand. He answered the preliminary questions with the ease of manner of someone who spent hours in the witness-box.
“You were asked to carry out tests on certain material?”
“I was.”
“What material?”
“The viscera of a deceased man whom I then knew as George Cabbot. The specimens were brought to me in sealed bottles, the seals of which I broke. The seals bore the initials A D.”
Charlton addressed the Bench. “Proof will be given later, my Lord, that these specimens were sealed by the pathologist in the presence of one of the investigating detectives.”
“Very well,” said the judge.
Charlton addressed the witness again. “Did you carry out certain tests and if so did you come to any conclusions?”
“I carried out a great number of tests. From the evidence available, I thought that the deceased had met his death from a convulsivant poison. This proved to be so and eventually I was able to identify the agent cicutoxin.”
“Can you tell us something about this?”
“It is an ingredient of the water hemlock, or Cicnta Virosa. The poison collects in the tubers, which are said to have a flavour that resembles carrot or parsley. The poison content of the juice is greatest in spring and a single tuber contains a lethal dose. The strength of this poison is indicated by the fact that not even strychnine is more potent.”
“How long does it take to act after ingestion?”
“Between fifteen to twenty minutes and an hour to an hour and a quarter, depending on the amount taken. The first symptoms are burning in the throat and mouth and these are followed by abdominal pains, nausea, vertigo and palpitations. The patient will faint and then be seized by convulsions, which occur at roughly fifteen minute intervals. If the patient is strong, his agony will be prolonged, if he is naturally weak, he will not survive for long. Total exhaustion may end in death, or death may come from asphyxiation.”
“Are there proportionately many deaths?”
“It is said to be as high as fifty per cent. I cannot say from my own knowledge.”
Charlton leaned forward and picked up the second page of this witness’s proof. He made a pencilled note. “Were you later sent any material for testing?”
“I was given eight biscuit or cocktail straws, filled with a celery paste. Tests proved that three of these contained a fatal dose of cicutoxin.”
“Who sent you these?”
“Detective Inspector Cathart.”
“Mr. Reacher, in your opinion would the ordinary person be unlikely to appreciate the toxicity of this poison?”
“Few people have any conception of the extreme power of some vegetable poisons.”
Charlton half turned, leaned sideways, and whispered to his instructing solicitor. After a while, he stood upright. “Thank you.” He sat down.
Gretnor cross-examined. “I shan’t keep you very long, Mr. Reacher, but I want to be quite clear on this question of toxicity. You have told us that cicutoxin is very potent?”
“In its pure form it is no exaggeration to call it exceptionally toxic.”
“Are you able to tell us whether most people are relatively unaware of this and look on water hemlock as a dangerous but not necessarily a very dangerous plant?”
“As I think I indicated earlier, the general public is surprisingly unaware of the poisons that grow in the countryside around them, or, if aware, do not know how very toxic some of these are.”
“That is the point that I wished to make. Someone might very well have believed that water hemlock offered a poison that could be administered in a small dose without more than minor results?”
“It is an almost incredible fact, but yes, that is so.”
“Thank you.”
It was three o’clock in the afternoon and the sunlight was coming through the skylights and worrying the jury. The judge asked if blinds could be drawn across some of the panels of glass, but a hurried conference of court officials decided nothing could be done.
A man of just under sixty, who limped slightly, went into the witness-box. He gave his name as Tenants and his occupation as foreman of a repair gang working for the G.P.O.
“Where were you on the evening of the thirtieth of May of this year?”
“I was at home, like, until just after six. Got called out then, me being on duty call, for a breakdown out at Necrington.”
“Did you go to that village?”
“The lorry called and picked me up. Most of the lads were in it already and there was only one more to get. We went out and found a line ’ad snapped in one five five section.”
“Can you tell us where this section is?”
“Close by a large place. Frogsfeet ’All.”
“Exactly where was the break in the line in relation to the house?”
“What’s that?”
“Was it near enough to the house for you to see the house?”
“See it as large as life. I looked at it and thought as I wouldn’t mind livin’ there if I won the pools, and that’s fact.”
“Did you see anyone visit the house whilst you were working?”
“There was two taxis comes along, one before the other. A woman was in the first one and a bloke in the second.”
“Were you able to see the man clearly?”
“Good enough to recognise ’im the moment I saw some photos.”
“Whom did you identify him as?”
“The bloke what was killed: Cabbot.”
“Did you see Cabbot leave the house?”
“He weren’t there long. Left just afore we finished our
job. ’Is taxi was waiting. I said to myself, some blokes ’as got money to burn, and no mistake.”
“Have you any idea what the time was when Cabbot left the house?”
The witness shrugged his shoulders. “Quarter past seven, half past.”
“How did he get from the house to the taxi?”
“Walked, of course. What d’you think ’e did?” Charlton momentarily smiled. “And how was he when he walked?”
“As fit as when ’e went in. ’E was smiling when getting into that taxi.”
“You say he was smiling?”
“That’s right. Had a couple of stiff’uns, that’s what, I said. My throat was as dry as dust so I reckoned he was a lucky...bloke.” Tenants changed what he had been going to say.
“Thank you.”
“No questions,” said Gretnor.
Evidence was given that water hemlock grew in the ponds that had been the quarry at Joumeyford, that no other source was known within two miles of Necrington, and that Journeyford was the parish next to Necrington.
A director of the firm who had made the celery straws went into the witness-box. He was a small man, pompous by nature, who appeared to take all the questions put to him as personal insults.
He was asked how the celery straws were made.
“By machines of the very latest type and quite foolproof. I must emphasise...”
“Would you...”
“I want to emphasise the fact...”
Charlton spoke sharply. “Will you kindly allow me to put the question.”
“But I insist on...”
“Kindly do as counsel says,” snapped the judge.
The witness looked angry, but had the sense to say nothing.
“Are these straws handled at any stage of their manufacture?”
“They are not.”
A Deadly Marriage Page 19
