"I'm sorry. I don't quite understand why Mr. Gunderson brought the brandy to Miss Strong's?"
"Because the morning we discovered the poor girl dead behind the workshop, Meg had had a bad reaction. She was in shock. But, Gus found she didn't have any alcohol. So, he brought this over, in case of future need."
"What has this to do with anything?" Clarence queried.
"Just be patient, please," the prosecuting attorney said.
"Patient? I'm afraid that not only I, but more importantly, most of the jury, is falling asleep."
"Mr. Clarence, sit down and be quiet. I don't find your sarcasm amusing. And, I don't expect to have to speak to you about it again," said the judge.
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Please continue, Dr. Thorne. Why was this so important?"
"Why, because it made everything come together."
She began ticking off fingers as she spoke. "Harding had given the brandy to Gus' man near the end of the scarlet fever crisis, probably to ensure the man wouldn't hear him when he carried the body downstairs and out to the stable—where we were storing the bodies.
"The 'Br' on the bloody scrap of paper was for 'Brent' and not 'Brumbell', as we thought.
"Wooden crates of books don't rattle."
"Wait a second. What was that last thing?"
"Oh, yes... I suppose I did forget to mention that, because it wasn't exactly connected. Or, at least it didn't seem to be, at the time.
"You see, Mr. Lee did all of Harding's errands: shopping, collecting the mail, laundry—everything. But, Harding, personally, went to the post office about once a week to pick up his regular shipment of books, which arrived in a sturdy, wooden crate.
"I asked Harding about the crates he received and he'd told me they were books. At some point, I said something about it at the post office and was told that soon after Harding arrived in town, there had been a mishap in a baggage car. A number of things had been damaged when an unrestrained hogshead toppled over. Several items had been ruined because by a sticky liquid that leaked over everything.
"But, sometime later, I'd bumped into him, while he was carrying his crate of 'books', and it rattled."
"What am I missing? Why is any of this important?" Mr. Clarence asked.
The doctor stared at him, incredulously, and finally said, "No reason, except that books don't rattle."
"Yes," Mr. Lynchburg acknowledged, "but perhaps you should elaborate."
"All right. For reasons probably too long and tedious to go into," she began, staring at Mr. Clarence, "the sale of laudanum and morphine, and other drugs containing morphine has been greatly reduced in Manchester, due mainly to my predecessor, Dr. Mark Cooper's, campaigning. So, these things were not generally displayed out on shelves. They were still available, you understand, but people had to ask for them."
"I'm still not seeing the relevance, Your Honor."
"Just be patient," Dr. Thorne said, sharply. "Harding had to be getting his opium from somewhere, but he wasn't getting it from any of the local stores. And, more importantly, picking the crate up was never trusted to Mr. Lee."
Mr. Clarence pointedly stared at the jury and asked, "Am I the only one who doesn't see the reason for this testimony?"
The judge glowered at Clarence, while the doctor hurried on, "Well, would you trust an opium addict to fetch your shipment of opium for you? Why, anyone with any common sense at all, would say 'no!'"
"So, what did you do?"
"I had Eva and Kit help me get the men on beds. Then I sent Kit to harness Molly, so Eva could go out to the Gunderson place and tell her mother what was going on."
"Why?" Mr. Lynchburg asked.
"Because I knew that Eva could get her mother to organize a rescue operation since I was going to confront Harding. Only," she paused, thinking for a minute, "I'm not sure I told them it was Harding. In fact, thinking on it, I'm sure I didn't. But, I did write things out and left it on the dining table, in case... well... in case I disappeared."
"And then..."
"Kit came back to Meg's, and I told her to make coffee and try to get some in the men, if she was able. Then I took a large piece of beef Gus had brought with him earlier and injected it with every bit of morphine and laudanum I had in my medical bag."
"Why?"
"Because Harding had this brute of a dog, and it was always with him. So, I set that on the porch where the monster was sure to find and eat it. And, at some point, one of the girls told me about the loaded pistol in Meg's nightstand drawer. I stuck that in the waistband of my skirt, wrapped my cloak around me and ran across the street and began screaming and banging on Harding's downstairs door."
"I told him some story about everyone at Meg's collapsing and insisted he follow me back there. I believe he was already getting suspicious when a band of Gus' men came riding into town. Ma had twinkled the whereabouts of the brothel from one of the men, and sent in the cavalry, quite literally.
"Then when I wouldn't turn down the lamps and hide, as Harding told me, he threatened me. And I... I warned him I would shoot him. I did. In fact, I told him I would shoot him in the knee. And, he lunged, and then I shot.
"And after that, everything was pretty much over... except for me patching up everyone's injuries."
"Thank you, very much, Dr. Thorne. Now, please just stay where you are, since I'm sure Mr. Clarence has some questions for you."
Chapter Eighteen
Harding's lawyer, Ian Clarence, had defended him previously on several charges before, although never for murder and, apparently, he'd managed some surprising verdicts, since his client hadn't spent more than a few months at a time in prison, over the years.
It was Harding's claim that a group of people in town conspired against him and were determined to persecute an innocent man. His attorney dubbed them 'the conniving, vengeful busy-bodies'. However, when he referred to them by this name during the jury selection, he saw it annoyed not only the jury pool, but most of the previously selected jurors, as well, he'd quickly dropped it.
Mr. Clarence rose and approached the doctor. Victoria saw his disingenuous smile and inwardly groaned. She promised herself she would not fall into any traps he set for her.
"Now, Miss Thorne... excuse me, I meant to say doctor... Dr. Thorne. So let me start again.
"Now, Dr. Thorne, you've given us all quite a lot to think about. And, perhaps even more importantly, quite a lot to believe."
"I object—" Mr. Lynchburg began.
"Excuse me! If, by that comment you are implying that I lied about anything I have said, you are—" Dr. Thorne raged.
The judge cut her off. "I'll deal with Mr. Clarence's improper and rude comment, thank you, Doctor.
"I realize you are the defendant's attorney, and therefore trying to impugn the doctor's testimony, but you will do that following the proper roads, and politely. Have I made myself clear?"
"Ah... yes, sir. Of course, if I, in any way, said anything... ah... inappropriate or offensive—"
"Cut the insincere claptrap. You'll be able to practice your oratory abilities during your closing speech. Now," Judge Hilton continued, "do you have any actual questions for the doctor, or not?"
"Yes, sir." Then, turning back to face the doctor, he asked, "Now, according to your testimony, you drew pictures of both the girl found outside the rear of the workshop and the girl you claim to have been found among the corpses in the stable—which you insist did not die from scarlet fever."
"Mr. Clarence..." Judge Hilton growled softly.
"I'll rephrase the question... are you positive the girl did not die in the scarlet fever epidemic?"
"Absolutely."
"But there was a crisis. Ill people were continually coming to your 'hospital'. I'm sure you, and, of course, all those assisting you, were exceedingly busy.
"It must have been a hectic and confusing time. So, how can you be so sure that the girl wasn't brought in, promptly died, and was prepared for the makeshift morgue, wit
hout you seeing her?"
Victoria let out a sigh, ripe with annoyance. "You mean, aside from the fact that she had never been seen by any of us? Or, how she was clearly not prepared for the morgue by Kit? Or, by the fact that she didn't die of scarlet fever, but was strangled?"
"And, you know this how?"
"Because, she showed classic signs of strangulation. Well, strangulation or smothering."
"Signs. You mean like bruises around her neck?"
"Well, yes. There was some bruising around her neck, and she also had a small, round bruise on one side of her neck."
"And this proves she was smothered? Perhaps, I should have been more specific. Was she throttled or smothered?"
"She was strangled."
"And, again, you know this how?"
"Because smothering or strangulation leaves tiny red specks in the victim's eyes."
"I see... well, perhaps I don't."
The doctor continued, "When someone is deprived of air, the tiny blood vessels in their eyes burst. And, that's what I saw in this girl."
"You say she was smothered—or more accurately, strangled. But, how are we to know that your assessment was correct?"
"Well, I do have a medical degree, which allows me to practice medicine. Do you have such a degree?"
"I'm asking the questions, thank you, madam."
"I'll take that as a 'no'," the doctor said, sweetly. "If you had been paying attention to what I was saying, as I was saying it, rather than working out what insult you could sling at me when you next got the chance, you might have heard me say the girl did not die from scarlet fever, or any other illness. Strangulation is not an illness."
"All right, and you could tell this because..."
"Again, if you'd listened as I testified, you would have heard me say that the girl not only exhibited the customary burst blood vessels in her eyes, but fingerprints around her throat. You even asked me about them.
"Strangulation is either an accident or deliberate. This was not an accident. And, if it was deliberate, it is murder."
"Why couldn't it have been an accident?"
"An accident? How? Or, perhaps, you think that we helped her cough by shaking her by her throat?"
"Your Honor, why is it this... this... woman allowed to malign me?"
"I don't know, Mr. Clarence, perhaps 'what goes around, comes around'?" the judge sneered.
Clarence scowled, walked about in apparent thought for several moments, before he walked towards the doctor, and said, "I apologize, Doctor.
"Allow me to begin again. The girl, your extra body, was strangled, and had these telltale blood spots?"
"Yes."
"And, you drew sketches of her?"
"Yes."
"Now, you said you drew sketches of the second girl, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did."
"And, she resembled the first girl, the one that was beaten?"
"Yes, she did."
"And, did this third girl?"
"I'm sorry. I missed the question."
"Did this third girl resemble the first?"
"No. She didn't at all. And, why should she? She wasn't related to the first two girls. They were the older sisters of Lynn, our youngest surviving girl. And, her sisters had names. Lori was the first girl, the one beaten to death; and Lisa was the one who bled to death.
"The girl we discovered in the stable was the sister of our oldest girl, Kathy. And, she also had a name. It was Jeannine."
"Yes, thank you. And, these sketches... so the first and second sketches were of sisters. What was so important about the third sketch? I mean, if she was related?"
"Because both the photograph of the first girl, and my sketch of the third girl show bruises directly linking your client to their deaths."
"Excuse me?"
The doctor jutted her chin out, gesturing to the defendant, sitting smugly at the defense table, and said, "Both girls' bruises included impressions of your client's signet ring."
Harding colored, as he slipped the hand wearing the ring beneath his other.
"I protest, Your Honor."
"I really don't see how you can, Mr. Clarence, it was your question."
"Yes... well... ah... let's jump towards the end of your testimony, Doctor. You admit you shot my client at point blank range in the knee. That doesn't seem like something a medico should do. It doesn't particularly seem like something womanly, either."
"If the question buried in there was 'did I shoot Mr. Harding?', then the answer is 'yes, I did'.
"And, if you'd only listened to what I said, I told you I warned him that if he moved, I would shoot him."
"Do you think that was a reasonable action?"
"Absolutely. After all, I wasn't alone in the residence. Miss Strong, Mr. Gunderson, and Mr. Stratton were there with me, unconscious and completely helpless."
"So?"
"It meant he could eliminate me as a threat and still have three hostages left to bargain with."
"Why would Mr. Harding need to harm you or take others as hostages?"
"Why? Ah... to put it plainly, because he'd been found out. I knew what he'd done, and how to prove it. And, Mr. Gunderson's men had raided the brothel. Mrs. Porter and Mr. Lee had been taken into custody, as well as that most disagreeable Mr. Brumble. He was exposed—utterly exposed.
"And no matter what fairytale he's told you, he's guilty." She eyed first Harding and then Clarence critically, and asked, "Or did he even bother to lie to you. Perhaps, you've represented him, and others like him, so long their actions don't even bother you anymore?"
"The problem with that, Doctor, is that you and your vigilantes, don't get to decide who is guilty. That's not how we do things here in America."
"Perhaps not. But then hiring underage girls under false pretenses, transporting them over state lines, holding them prisoners, keeping them drugged, and selling their bodies isn't either, is it?
"And, of course multiple murders are also frowned upon."
"Your Honor... I didn't attend law school to be treated like this."
"Seriously, Mr. Clarence. I'm sure the doctor could make the same complaint. If you are going to treat Dr. Thorne, a professional and a woman, with contempt, be prepared to be treated in kind."
"But..."
"Do you have any more questions for the doctor, or not?"
"Ah, not at the moment. However, I retain the right to recall her, if I think of anything else to ask her later."
*****
Judge Preston and Gus were on and off the stand fairly quickly. Clarence had apparently decided early on that he wouldn't be able to shake them, so why waste everyone's time. So, the quicker they testified and were finished, the better it would be for his client.
Besides, about the only thing they were able to add to the doctor's testimony was how the girls had actually been procured and arrived in Manchester.
Gus told how he'd contacted his attorney in Chicago, who located the institution where the girls had been placed. The matron, he said, sent Jeannine and Kathy to Manchester, supposedly to work in a commercial laundry. Although, not authorized to farm girls out, it wasn't unusual for them to try to find jobs for the girls. That way they would be able to support themselves when they turned eighteen and could no longer remain at the institution.
At the time, Kathy was just seventeen and her sister, Jeannine, was almost sixteen. So, in an attempt to keep the girls together, the matron chose them to go to Manchester. And, after she had received glowing letters, allegedly from the girls, the matron agreed to send other girls.
The judge testified it was he who'd gotten the woman to admit that she sent three sisters, and not the two, she'd originally told Gus' lawyer. He corroborated the doctor's testimony about what was in the crate they'd presented to him and when he'd received it, as well as some of the later sketches. He also told of his arranging for the Pinkertons to come to town.
Once Clarence asked his initial question, he remained relatively qui
et as the men testified. But no one believed his civility would last. It was too good to last.
Chapter Nineteen
He'd been on his best behavior for the men, but Clarence wasn't going to just let Colleen Murphy testify without cross-examination, or even interruption. He wanted to rattle her. She was, after all, the prosecution's only witness that claimed she'd been kidnapped. And he had no intention of accepting whatever she said as gospel.
Once she told the prosecuting attorney her name, where she'd been born, and how long she'd been working for the Pinkerton Agency, Lynchburg dove into her experiences.
"When you arrived in Manchester," Mr. Lynchburg began, "how did you present yourself?"
"I assumed the persona of a woman who liked to play poker, and who had a dependency on Mrs. Winslow's."
"What?"
"Am I right in assuming you're asking about the 'Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup'?"
"Yes."
"'Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup' is a remedy for children. It's advertised to make teething less painful. But, it's very addictive if it's overused. And, unfortunately, parents are highly likely to overuse it, if their children are not good sleepers, or otherwise demanding. The problem is it's a combination of alcohol and opium."
"Ah... thank you for that informative lecture, but what does this have to do with my client?"
"Because, the first child died clasping a bottle of 'Mrs. Winslow's. Lisa—the girl who bled to death—exhibited having morphine in her system. And, of course, there's the ranch hand that actually died of an opium overdose. So, I thought I would be more attractive as a victim, if I was seen to rely on it as a crutch."
"But, surely, you didn't come into town and announce your dependency?"
"No, of course not. I came into town and registered at the hotel. Then I spent a lot of time playing poker in the saloon. And, while I was playing, I would take the odd sip of Mrs. Winslow's.
"However, I probably should mention, my bottles of Mrs. Winslow's were filled with sugar water. At no time was I ingesting Mrs. Winslow's, or anything else that might be addictive."
Miranda Takes a Stand Page 13
