by Carol Baxter
‘Did he say that it was the gun he replaced which had been used by Clarke?’
‘Yes, he did.’
The state’s argument that Bill had purchased the gun between the time he received confirmation about Haden’s betrayal and the time he returned to Miami had been one of its strongest pieces of evidence suggesting premeditation. Huston’s testimony had critically weakened the foundations of this argument.
Carson had a third point he wanted Huston to clarify. In Hawthorne’s opening statement, he had claimed that Bill had repeatedly asked, ‘Do you think Haden will be able to talk again?’ as if Bill had desperately hoped that Clarke wouldn’t talk so he couldn’t reveal who had shot him. Carson asked Huston, ‘Do you remember Lancaster on April 21 saying that he wished to God that Haden could speak so he could tell why he did it?’
‘He said that.’
‘And at this time Haden Clarke was alive.’
‘He was.’
Hawthorne’s next witness, ambulance driver Charles Ditsler, also told the court that Lancaster had asked him if Clarke would ever speak again and that his response had been that it seemed unlikely.
Ditsler then talked about the delay in taking Clarke to the hospital and how he and his fellow ambulance officer eventually carried the unconscious body down the stairs and out to the ambulance.
Hawthorne asked, ‘Did Haden Clarke’s body strike the wall or bannister while being carried to the ambulance?’
‘I’m not sure,’ was the response.
It wasn’t the answer Hawthorne had hoped for. It provided the reasonable doubt the defence required to dismiss any claim that the bruise on Clarke’s arm resulted from a physical altercation with his killer.
Emergency Officer Earl S. Hudson followed Ditsler to the stand. Hawthorne questioned him about his encounters with the two aviators then asked, ‘Did Lancaster say anything on the way back to the house?’
‘Yes. He asked if the boy had any chance of coming to long enough to say anything.’
‘Was anything said about the gun?’
Hudson reported that Lancaster told him it belonged to some airways company he had worked for, that he had laid it by the typewriter and that Clarke had been playing with it on the bed before they went to sleep.
Under cross-examination, Carson elicited from him that Lancaster had actually asked if Clarke would speak again so he could explain how it happened. Carson had now drawn the same critical amplification from two of the state’s witnesses.
He then asked Hudson, ‘Did you discuss with Lancaster the matter of Haden Clarke’s attempted suicide and did he assign any reason for the act?’
‘The only reason he gave was that Haden Clarke had contracted a contagious disease and that it was preying heavily on his mind.’
While Hudson’s last answer—that Haden had been playing with the gun—raised the possibility of an accidental death, it was the curious reference to Haden’s contagious disease that would linger in the jurors’ minds. This was the first argument presented to the court to support the suicide defence.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Carson was a canny lawyer with an enviable reputation he was determined to retain. After assessing the evidence in Bill’s case, he had realised there was only one way to obtain an acquittal. ‘I am afraid we have got to make you a scarlet woman,’ he had told Chubbie. ‘Can you take it?’
Could she expose her private life to a salacious and judgemental public? It was a horrifying thought. She had spent the last five years doing everything possible to hide it. She had little choice, though, under the circumstances. She told him she would do anything she could—everything she could—to keep Bill from the electric chair.
As the trial date loomed, he told her his plan. While he couldn’t talk to the press about the case, she could—and Bill as well. If they could nudge the pendulum of public opinion in Bill’s favour, it might mean the difference between life and death. That being the case, he had organised for the International News Service to interview them and for their signed statements to be published immediately after the trial’s commencement.
The jurors wouldn’t read them, of course. In such an important trial, they would be sequestered. However, the public would pore over them, the public who would stream into the courtroom each day to hear the witnesses’ testimonies. And the public’s mood would soon be felt by everyone in the courtroom, including the jurors.
‘Slim, white-faced Mrs Keith Miller looked little like the “chubby” of Captain Lancaster’s lovesick diary,’ observed a reporter when he spotted her in the courthouse on the trial’s second day. The pressman assumed she was white-faced because of the ordeal she was about to endure. In fact, it had already begun.
Chubbie’s International News Service statement was to be printed on the front page of the Miami Daily News that day. She had begun the statement by saying that she was just a witness in the trial, however, ‘I shall, in a sense, be a defendant because necessarily the irregularities of my private life must be exposed to the public gaze.’ She added that, knowing Bill as well as she did, she was certain he was innocent and shouldn’t have been accused or indicted; however, since he had no choice but to face a jury, she must help establish his innocence even if it was at the expense of her own reputation.
It had been mortifying to reveal to the journalist the details of her alcohol consumption and love life. The thought of repeating this information in open court was terrifying. Yet she had to do so. She owed it to Bill. But when this nightmare was over, she would rethink her future. She fervently told the public, ‘My drinking days are over.’
When Chubbie walked towards the witness stand, clad in mourning black, a frisson of excitement filled the courtroom. Men and women rose from their seats to stare and point and gossip, forcing the bailiffs to call the court to order.
Hawthorne informed the court that she would be testifying as a court witness rather than a state witness. ‘I have reason to believe and do believe,’ he told the judge, ‘that she will, as far as possible, testify on behalf of the defendant and that she will attempt to give testimony prejudicial to the state’s interest.’
A clever statement from a clever prosecutor, he was hoping to undermine the value of anything she said that was at odds with the prosecution’s stated position.
Hawthorne began by asking her about the four months in Miami that had preceded Haden’s death. The spectators leaned forward in their seats, eager to hear every word from the softly spoken aviator. He then enquired, ‘Were you engaged to be married to Captain Lancaster?’
‘You can’t be engaged to a person who is married,’ she replied spiritedly. She admitted, though, that she had long intended to marry him and still had the same intention when he left Miami on 6 March—until she and Haden had fallen in love and had sent him the letters telling him so.
Hawthorne drew from her that neither Haden nor Bill were divorced yet both were engaged to her at the same time. It made her seem like a hussy. Worse, it undermined her credibility even further. Who would trust the word of such a woman?
He then asked, ‘Did you write with the same affectionate terms to Lancaster after the affair with Haden Clarke as you did in the past?’
She looked shamefaced when she admitted that she had. To her embarrassment, Hawthorne’s team would later read many of her letters to the court.
Hawthorne asked about their flying experiences together, making it clear that they had been partners in life and love for many years. He then enquired, ‘And haven’t you insisted since Haden Clarke’s death that Bill couldn’t have killed him?’
‘I just know Bill couldn’t do it.’
‘And when you learnt that the authorities had detained him, didn’t you tell me that if Lancaster was put in jail you would make a statement to the press and state that you killed Haden.’
‘It sounds dramatic,’ she said, lowering her head, ‘but yes, I did say it.’
‘Was that statement made for the purpose of helpin
g Lancaster out of his difficulties?’
‘Yes.’
It was clear why Hawthorne had called her as a court’s witness, why he had indicated to the court that she might say anything to get Lancaster off.
Returning to the subject of her love for Haden, Hawthorne asked, ‘Did you anticipate trouble when Lancaster received the letters?’
‘No, I did not anticipate trouble. I knew that he would be upset.’
‘What was his attitude when he arrived in Miami: pleased or displeased?’
‘He was tired, ill and sad.’
When Hawthorne questioned her about the events of that evening, tears flooded her eyes as she described saying goodnight to the two men. Her voice shook so badly she appeared on the verge of a breakdown.
Hawthorne then asked what had happened when Bill knocked at her locked door.
‘He said, “Come at once. Haden has shot himself.” I said, “Don’t be ridiculous, there isn’t a pistol in the house.” He said, “Yes there is. I brought one back with me.”’ She added that she went straight to the sleeping porch where she found her blood-covered fiancé moving his head from side to side and groaning.
The judge enquired if Haden’s blood was fresh when she arrived at his bedside. She said that she couldn’t remember.
Hawthorne questioned her about the notes and she told him that Bill had handed them to her and she had read them. Afterwards he had asked her to destroy them because there might be a scandal.
‘What did you answer?’
‘I said that I couldn’t destroy them.’
Suddenly, Hawthorne thundered, ‘Mrs Keith Miller, do you know who killed Haden Clarke?’
Pale and teary, she whispered, ‘I am convinced in my own mind that Haden killed himself.’
‘You stated, Mrs Keith Miller, that when Lancaster said that Haden had shot himself, you were surprised?
‘I was shocked.’
‘Well, you might be shocked and not surprised. Were you surprised to hear that Haden was a suicide?’
‘Yes, it surprised me. Yes.’
‘When you came to my office, did you attempt to tell me your theory of why Haden committed suicide?’
‘I believe I tried to tell you a number of theories.’
‘Did you look on Haden as one who, if disappointed in life, might take his life?’
‘Yes. He talked about suicide quite a bit.’
‘In the presence of others?’
‘Yes.’ She added that he’d said that the surest way to commit suicide was to shoot oneself through the head just above and behind the right ear.
‘Was Haden depressed when you told him good night on the night of the tragedy?’
‘Yes. He told me that everything was much worse than he thought.’
‘Was there any indication later that Haden and Bill were friendly?’
‘Yes, I heard them laughing.’
‘Please refresh your memory, Mrs Keith Miller,’ Hawthorne remonstrated. ‘Didn’t you say in my office that you were uneasy until you heard laughter?’
‘I had no fear of violence but it was most certainly a relief to know that they were getting along all right.’
Hawthorne told the court that he was introducing into evidence a slip of paper Chubbie had given him in May, offering reasons as to why Haden might have had suicidal intentions. He then read out Chubbie’s words:
1. Remorse;
2. Doubt of Mrs Keith Miller and fear that the past five years with Lancaster would prove too strong a bond and that she might return to Lancaster;
3. Financial worry;
4. Doubt of his ability to write the book of Mrs Keith Miller’s life as an aviator and to make money with his writings;
5. Intense sexual life suddenly discontinued, but the desire stronger than ever;
6. That Clarke was very young and that Mrs Keith Miller placed too much responsibility on him;
7. His physical condition; and
8. That he was temperamental and emotional and went from heights of joy to depths of despair.
When Hawthorne advised the judge a short time later that he had finished with the witness, some brows furrowed in surprise. A prosecutor intent upon convincing the jury that the victim had been murdered had left the jurors pondering eight reasons why the victim might have committed suicide.
Like any skilled trial attorney, Carson was adaptable. He made the most of Hawthorne’s error of judgement. To reinforce the argument for suicide, he asked Chubbie to explain her eight reasons. She provided obvious explanations for the first four. She couldn’t bring herself to elaborate on point five, the cessation of Haden’s intense sexual life, which was the result of point seven, his physical condition. It was too personal, too intrusive.
Carson decided to introduce the subject indirectly by asking her to tell the jury about the beginning of their love affair. She mentioned Bill’s departure, which left them alone together, then spoke hesitantly about the morning she found Haden asleep at the foot of her bed and the night they became lovers. Her voice broke and she kept pausing, trying to regain emotional control, as Carson’s probing questions forced her to disclose intimate details. Among them was that their passion had increased until Haden’s enforced celibacy two weeks before Bill’s return.
Carson asked about their marriage plans and Haden’s need to obtain a divorce. She said that he had written to his wife and asked for one.
‘What happened next?’
‘One night she telephoned from California. She said that she had been divorced last November and had remarried and that he could get married the next day if he wanted to.’
‘Did you?’
‘No. I wanted to see that the divorce papers were in order.’
‘When was that?’
‘The Saturday before April 20.’
Carson put into evidence a telegram sent by Haden’s wife a few days later stating that it would be illegal for him to marry until she had obtained her final decree (Californian divorces had a one-year interlocutory period) and that the story of her romance and remarriage was imaginary. The telegram reached Miami on the morning of Tuesday, 19 April.
‘What effect did the receipt of this telegram have on Clarke? Did it elevate or depress his spirits?’
‘He flew into a violent rage and called her all kinds of names. He said, “Where am I going to get $100 to start divorce proceedings in Miami?”’
‘But he tried to object when Bill wanted to postpone the wedding a month?’
Chubbie agreed that he had.
Carson was satisfied with the day’s proceedings. Through Chubbie’s testimony, he had expounded upon most of the reasons why Haden might have committed suicide, although he had ignored the ‘malady’ for the moment, a touchy subject best raised when it made a powerful point. He had also revealed a ninth reason why Haden might have committed suicide: his marital status. Unless Haden could finance a Miami divorce, he wouldn’t be free until January 1933, allowing Chubbie nine months to change her mind—or Bill to change it for her.
He had finished the day by alerting the jurors to the date Haden received the telegram that wrecked his marriage plans: Tuesday, 19 April, the day before Bill returned to Miami. Hopefully, he had left the men wondering if its receipt might have acted as a switch that triggered a suicidal descent.
Chapter Forty
Dressed in a pale blue dress and small Panama hat, Chubbie seated herself in the witness stand the next day and gave Bill a tremulous smile. During her previous session, Hawthorne had thundered at her, trying to trick her into saying what he wanted to hear, but Carson’s prying questions had been the more difficult to answer. For Bill’s sake, she’d had to answer every intrusive question—an excruciating experience, worse than she had imagined. And it was about to begin again.
Carson returned to the subject of the divorce telegram, asking if she knew what had become of this critical piece of evidence because it wasn’t among the items passed to him by the prosecution. She said
that after Haden showed it to her she had left it on the living room table.
‘When was the next time you saw it?’
‘When Captain Lancaster and I were released from custody, I returned home and found it screwed up in a ball on the floor.’
‘Who had been in charge of the house?’
‘The police.’
Carson also drew from her that the carbon copy of only one of Haden’s two explanatory letters to Bill was among the prosecution’s bundle of evidence and that she had no idea what had happened to the other. He didn’t elaborate on what this revealed in terms of the state’s investigation. The jurors could reach their own conclusion.
Hawthorne continued his case-in-chief by having his assistant, Henry Jones, call Dr Carlton Deederer to the witness stand. The prosecution had heard Chubbie’s revelation that Haden thought the most reliable suicide method was to shoot oneself through the head just above and behind the right ear. Jones asked Deederer to describe the location of the entrance wound in Clarke’s head.
‘The bullet entered halfway between the right eye and the hole in the right ear and nearly three inches away from the hole in the ear.’
Deederer had previously told the press that Clarke might have been beaten before he was shot. Yet the prosecution didn’t question him about this claim, nor did the defence under cross-examination. Deederer had been present at the autopsy. Perhaps he had been forced to reassess his conclusions in the light of the evidence from Haden’s remains.
Hawthorne introduced into evidence the statement Bill made on 2 May in which he admitted to forging the suicide notes. It was the most damaging piece of evidence the prosecution had presented so far and it was in Bill’s own words.
The damning evidence continued when Hawthorne called Latin American Airways president, J.F. Russell, the man responsible for alerting Bill to Chubbie’s transfer of affections. After questioning him about the airline’s activities, Hawthorne enquired about his knowledge of Bill’s relationship with Chubbie. Russell told the court about the night he showed Bill the letters from his wife.
