The Last Midwife

by Sandra Dallas

  “Everybody knows the Sagehen.”

  “But you know her personally. She delivered your child. Is that correct?”

  “Did a poor job of it.”

  “And you hate her for it.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Oh, but you did. And you threatened to get even with her, too, didn’t you? I can call Mr. Asa Jackson and Mr. Jake Comfort from over in Middle Swan to the stand, if you like. They heard you down at the Nugget.”

  Gracy leaned forward. She didn’t know that. Where in the world had Ted gotten the information?

  “I didn’t mean it. I was mad.”

  “But you did threaten to get even.”

  “I don’t recall.”

  “Judge—” Ted began.

  Judge Downing cut him off. “Did you say that, Mr. Chaney? I will remind you that it is a crime to lie when you are under oath.”

  “I guess I did.”

  “And do you want to give us the details of what happened to make you so angry at Mrs. Brookens?” Ted asked.

  “Not hardly.”

  Before Ted could turn to Judge Downing, the judge snapped, “Well, do it anyway, and don’t take all day.”

  Coy glared at Gracy. “She took her time getting to my house. The baby died, and my wife could have too, because of that old woman.” He pointed at Gracy.

  “And was Gracy late because you failed to call for her when your wife told you it was time to fetch her? Is that because you got drunk and forgot to collect the Sagehen?” Ted asked.

  “Could have happened to anybody.”

  “No, sir. It could not. I will wager these gentlemen would not have done such a thing.” He indicated the men in the jury box.

  Doak objected, and the judge said, “Mr. Coombs, the jury is not interested in your speculations.”

  “I think I’ve established this man has good reason to bear false witness against Mrs. Brookens,” Ted said, and returned to his seat.

  “Next witness is Dr. Richard Erickson,” Doak said, and Little Dickie stood up, stood up straight to make himself look taller. He walked to the witness chair, and head high, he stood in front of it while he was sworn in.

  “You are a medical doctor, are you not?” Doak asked.

  Little Dickie cleared his throat. “Indeed I am. I am a graduate of one of the finest medical institutions in the country. My knowledge is based on centuries of healing, not on ignorance and superstition.” He spat out the words.

  “Indeed, sir, and you have been certified as a physician by the state of Colorado.”

  “I have.”

  “Are midwives certified?”

  “Of course not. There was a time when they might have been necessary, but today, there are real doctors to deliver babies. And we do not think much of midwifery. These mountains would be better if we had no more midwives. “

  “Now, Dr. Erickson, you are here because you examined the Halleck baby after Mr. Chaney called you in, is that correct?” When Little Dickie nodded, the prosecutor continued. “And what was your conclusion?”

  “That the infant had been strangled—strangled with the linen cord a midwife uses.”

  There were murmurs in the courtroom, and as if playing to the audience, Doak said, “You say it was the kind of thread a midwife like Gracy Brookens uses.”

  “I did.”

  “And you conclude that the child was strangled.”

  “Of course.”

  Doak continued to ask Little Dickie about the thread and the strangling, until Judge Downing said, “Enough, Mr. Doak. Thread’s thread. This isn’t a sewing circle.”

  But the prosecutor wasn’t satisfied. Before he took his seat, he said, “I just want to make it clear, the Halleck baby was strangled by the sort of linen cord a midwife uses. Is that correct?”

  “It is.”

  Then it was the defense’s turn. Ted studied Little Dickie so long that the doctor squirmed. Finally, Ted said, “You have an impressive medical background, Dr. Erickson. How long have you been a physician?”

  “Not long.”

  “How long is ‘not long’?”

  “I am just setting up my practice. I have been here since the start of summer.”

  “Two months then, maybe three. And how many patients have you had?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Oh, come, sir—hundreds, thousands, or”—Ted paused—“nine?”

  “It takes time to build up a practice,” Little Dickie sniffed.

  “And is it true that five of those patients were referred by Gracy Brookens?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  Ted smiled. “But you do know that people in Swandyke would rather go to Gracy than to you, don’t you?” Little Dickie started to protest, but Ted said quickly, “You have good reason to want Gracy Brookens to be the last midwife on the Tenmile, don’t you?”

  “I will not be insulted—”

  “No, of course not,” Ted said, then added sarcastically, “You are a doctor with the highest medical credentials. Tell me, Dr. Erickson. Did you examine the Halleck baby after it died?”

  “I have said I did.”

  “And your conclusion was that he was murdered—strangled with linen thread.” When Little Dickie nodded, Ted asked, “Did you consider any other cause of death? Could the baby have been dead before the cord was put around his neck?”

  “Why would anybody do that?”

  “That is not the question, sir. Could the baby have been dead before the cord was put around its neck?”

  “I suppose.”

  “But you didn’t examine him for any cause of death besides strangulation? So you would not know if he had died of natural causes?”

  “The body was cold, stiff, dirt had sifted down on it. The baby had been dead and buried for a day or two!”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Jonas Halleck told me…” His voice trailed off.

  “So you don’t know yourself when the baby died or what was the cause of death? Is it possible, sir, that the baby died on its own and someone put a cord around his neck to cast suspicion on Gracy Brookens?”

  Little Dickie looked so confused that Gracy almost felt sorry for him.

  “One more thing, Doctor.” Ted turned to the jury and asked, “Do you yourself carry the linen cord that was found around the neck of the Halleck baby?”

  Little Dickie’s mouth fell open. “All physicians carry—”

  “Yes or no.”

  Little Dickie shuddered. “Yes, but I didn’t kill the Halleck baby.”

  “No, no, of course not.” Ted gestured at Little Dickie to step down, then asked, “Oh, by the way, Doctor, how many babies have you delivered?”

  “I am fully competent.”

  “How many?”

  “Two.”

  After the defense lawyer took his seat, the judge looked around the courtroom, and said since it was well past the dinner hour, he would declare a recess. People filed out of the room, and in a few minutes only Gracy and her lawyer, Daniel and Jeff were left.

  Jeff looked at his mother and smiled. He had his father’s smile, and Gracy knew how that could melt a woman. It had always melted his mother. Gracy hoped he’d find a good woman, one who would understand him as she did Daniel.

  Jeff came up to his mother and took her arm. “I think we did pretty good,” he said, then turned to the lawyer. “Didn’t we?”

  Ted nodded. “Better than could be expected. But Jonas Halleck is next on the list, the prosecution’s last witness, and him being so prominent, people will want to believe him. We will have to be careful.”

  * * *

  Jonas did not testify that day, however. When court resumed in mid-afternoon, Jonas Halleck was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where’s your witness?” Judge Downing demanded.

  “Your Honor, I beg your indulgence,” George Doak said.

  “Yes, I’m sure you do. Where is your witness, Mr. Doak?”

  The prosecutor
fidgeted. “This morning’s testimony was too much for the poor man. He is indisposed. I ask you to give him time to restore himself to sanity. He will testify in the morning.”

  The judge was angry. “He what?”

  Ted sucked in his cheeks to keep from smiling too broadly. Then he spoke out. “He means his star witness got drunk at the Nugget saloon.”

  Gracy herself could hardly keep from smiling. Jonas Halleck, that upright man, that beloved Christian, drunk at the Nugget! How could that have happened? And how did Ted know about it?

  “Him not being here to testify, I believe the prosecution must rest its case,” Ted said.

  “I’ll produce the witness tomorrow, sober as a judge.” Doak seemed to consider his words, then hung his head. “As the expression goes. No offense, Your Honor.”

  “I object to the prosecution’s request. The law guarantees my client a speedy trial. Why should she have to wait another day because a witness takes off on a high lonesome?” Ted asked.

  “Quite right, Mr. Coombs. Why should she, Mr. Doak?”

  Doak was silent, and for a moment, Gracy thought the trial would end there. The only evidence presented so far indicated the Halleck baby had been strangled with a linen cord, maybe even strangled after he died.

  “We are dealing with a man under duress. He stopped for a drink. Just one. It is my belief somebody slipped a powerful drug into it and that knocked him out.”

  Ted scoffed. “Not likely.”

  “Quite likely. He had one drink. A grown man like Mr. Halleck doesn’t pass out from a single shot of whiskey.” Doak glared at Ted, then turned back to the judge. “I ask you in the name of all that is just to recess the court until morning. Manslaughter is a serious charge, and the dead child deserves justice. Mr. Halleck is an upstanding man, and none of us knows the truth as to why he is not here. If he is not in a condition to testify in the morning, I will make my closing argument,” Doak said.

  “I object!” Ted all but shouted.

  “Yes, of course you do, and I do, too, but Mr. Doak is right. The charge here is so heinous that I believe the prosecution should be granted a little leeway. I had not planned to hold court tomorrow, it being a Saturday, but I see I must. Mr. Doak, make sure your witness is here first thing in the morning.”

  “He will be here,” Doak promised.

  Gracy was sure he would.

  Seventeen

  Mittie McCauley brought a stew to the Brookens cabin that night for supper.

  “What’ll your husband say, you always taking his fixin’s to us?” Gracy asked.

  “He’s working the night shift. It’s lonely at home with just me.”

  “Then sit you right down and eat with us,” Gracy told her.

  “I’d like that, being with a family. But ain’t you got something to talk about?” She looked at the lawyer.

  “Nothing you can’t hear,” Gracy replied.

  So Jeff moved aside and made room for Mittie on the bench at the table, Gracy thinking it seemed like the young woman belonged there. She was a comfort. Gracy looked forward to a time when the two of them would quilt together again or go fishing in the beaver ponds.

  “You think the prosecutor’s got something up his sleeve, with Mr. Halleck not showing up like that?” Jeff asked.

  Ted Coombs thought a moment. “I wondered myself, but I don’t think Doak would dare pull a stunt that way. Besides, I can’t think why he would. The judge could have called for closing arguments or dismissed the charge outright. I wish he had, but of course, he didn’t. I imagine George Doak is sweating it out right now, hoping Jonas Halleck will be sober in the morning.”

  “Serves him right,” Mittie muttered. “I don’t like that prosecutor.”

  “I know Halleck is a drinking man, but I can’t imagine why he’d let himself get drunk. And at the Nugget of all places,” Daniel said. “Do you suppose somebody really did slip him something?”

  “He was drinking next to a miner who seemed pretty interested in what Mr. Halleck was saying, even bought him a shot of whiskey and kept urging him to finish it off. Maybe he did put something in the drink,” Jeff said.

  “I wonder who it was,” Daniel said. “I don’t know anybody who’d buy Jonas Halleck a shot of whiskey.”

  “Tall man, young, but his hair was white, scar on the side of his face.” Jeff gave his mother a sly glance.

  Then Daniel and Gracy exchanged a look. Jeff had just described Henry McCauley, Mittie’s husband. “Whoever he is, I’d like to shake his hand, and bake him an apple pie,” Gracy said, smiling at Mittie. Mittie blushed, then turned away. The girl was trying to help in more ways than one.

  “Halleck’ll be sober in the morning. A man like that’s not likely to repeat his mistake,” Ted said. He leaned back on the bench. “We almost had them. Another judge might have dismissed the charge against you, Gracy, but Judge Downing, he leans over backward to be impartial, and it didn’t help that Halleck is somebody important.” Ted paused. “The judge likes to hunt. My guess is he started the trial on Friday so he could spend the weekend here in Swandyke and go hunting. He’ll look for a reason to adjourn early tomorrow. The jury might not get the case until Monday.”

  “How do you think it went?” Jeff asked.

  Ted shrugged. “We got our licks in. But who knows which way the jury will go. They like you, Gracy. Still, it bothers them that a baby was murdered.”

  “But you said maybe the baby wasn’t murdered, that that string might have been put around the baby’s neck later on, after it died,” Jeff said.

  “I did at that,” Ted replied. “But I don’t know that anybody’ll really believe it. Still, if they want to find Gracy not guilty, that just might give them a reason.”

  “Do you think that baby died by itself and somebody put that string on him to cause trouble?” Mittie asked Gracy.

  Gracy looked at her plate. She’d tried to eat Mittie’s stew so that the young woman would know she was grateful, but she hadn’t any appetite. “It could have happened, I suppose, but why? Here’s what I think: Jonas Halleck strangled that baby, then buried it. When he dug it up and took it to Coy for burial, Coy saw the mark around the boy’s neck. Jonas had to blame somebody, and since I was the only person outside his family who’d seen the baby, Jonas blamed me.”

  “What’s Halleck going to say tomorrow?” Jeff asked.

  Ted thought that over. “He’ll say the same thing he did at the hearing. He has to, because it’s on the record, so he’d be guilty of perjury if he changed his story. I won’t lie to you, Gracy. He’s an important man, and he’s a threat.”

  “He usually gets what he wants,” Jeff said.

  “You know him?” Ted asked.

  Jeff nodded. “I met him a time or two. I can’t say I liked him. He didn’t like me much, either.”

  “Because of me?” Daniel asked.

  Jeff shrugged.

  “I’ll try to trip him up, but he’s sly.” Ted paused. “Still, I believe when Gracy takes the stand, the jury will believe her.” He turned to Gracy. “You’ll be the last witness. People in Swandyke know you have a reputation for honesty.”

  Gracy opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind and remained silent.

  * * *

  Jonas Halleck did indeed show up sober the next morning, head held high as if daring anyone to charge he’d been too drunk to testify the day before. Edna Halleck walked meekly behind her husband, and like Gracy, she wore black again. Edna’s dress, however, was black silk and in a new style, unlike Gracy’s black merino, so old she’d once worn it with hoops. An air of sadness hung over Edna Halleck. Her life had been troublesome, probably from the time she married Jonas Halleck. Despite Edna’s highborn ways, she had had it worse than others, Gracy thought.

  Jonas walked up to the witness chair and sat down, preening, until the clerk told him he had to wait until he was called. He scowled and took a seat next to his wife, just as the clerk told everyone to stand and Judge Down
ing came into the room.

  Gracy, at a table next to Ted, took a deep breath. She wished Jonas’s testimony was over. She wished her own were, too. She’d been reluctant to testify in the first place, and now, after seeing how clever the prosecutor was and understanding that he could ask her almost anything, she’d all but made up her mind not to testify at all. She hadn’t told Ted that. He would be furious, of course. But there were things she could not say. There was too great a chance the prosecutor would trip her up. Ted might trip her up, too, since he didn’t know the whole of it. Maybe Jonas would talk all day, and she wouldn’t have to make a decision until Monday. But in her heart it was already made. Now she had to wait only two more days until she knew whether she would be found guilty. And without testifying, her chances were not good. Gracy sighed as she watched Jonas Halleck sworn in. He was sure as a rooster, but maybe that would be his downfall.

  “Mr. Halleck,” the prosecutor began. “First, sir, my condolences on the loss of this precious child.”

  Jonas did not reply, only dipped his head as though the remark was due him. Judge Downing said, “Do you have any questions, Mr. Doak, or is this about niceties?”

  The newspapermen smirked, and the judge smiled at them.

  “Thank you, Your Honor. I do indeed have questions,” Doak said. “Mr. Halleck, will you tell us everything you remember from the time Gracy Brookens arrived at your home the day your son was born?”

  Jonas raised his chin imperiously. “I myself delivered the child, because it came so quickly. There wasn’t time to call a doctor.” He glanced at Gracy. “Or a midwife. The boy was in perfect health, but then he began to choke. So I sent for Mrs. Brookens.”

  Gracy shook her head back and forth and whispered to Ted, “He didn’t send for me. Josie fetched me on her own.”

  “And she came,” Doak prodded.

  “Yes, to our sorrow. I thought it was an act of charity to employ her, since I had fired her husband. I knew they were in want and that the two dollars I paid her would help. As you said, I am a Christian, sir.”

  Gracy snorted, because she had never been paid any two dollars.

  Doak glared at Gracy then turned back to Jonas Halleck. “And did she examine the baby?”