The Dark Backward

by D. W. Buffa

  “Not so much about the trial, about Adam – Lethe. I wish I knew what it meant, that name of his – or if it means anything at all. Lethe and Alethia: It’s almost as if they were named with the intention that they would be together. And perhaps they were, the way everything else seems to have been organized and tightly controlled. I keep wondering what would have happened – I mean if I could have convinced that strange man, Gerhardt Holderlin to testify – if I had told everyone the truth, that this wasn’t just some island, some small speck of land in the middle of the Pacific that for some reason no one had discovered before, but the last outpost – the final outpost for all I know – of a civilization so much older than our own that we’re just children by comparison.”

  Summer placed her hand on Darnell’s knee as she searched his anguished eyes with the cool, clear gaze of a physician. He felt better for her touch and tried to seem less worried about what he had done or, rather, about what he had not done.

  “Holderlin was right, I suppose. No one would have believed him. Why should they? What proof does he have? – His own unsubstantiated claim that he was there forty years ago? A story he could easily have made up. I’m not sure why I believed him, now that I look back on it, except that there was something about him that made me know that what he said was true. But Hillary Clark would have laughed him out of court. And as for Adam supplying some kind of confirmation – he couldn’t prove it, either, even if he had been willing to break what seems to have been a blood oath never to reveal anything about the city and where it is. Prove it? How much does he really know? When I’ve talked to him about it, asked him what he can tell me about how far back these people go, all he says is that they have ‘always been.’ He doesn’t know anything about their origins, nothing about where the city came from, or how they got to where they are. He doesn’t know anything about what happened – or didn’t happen – twelve thousand years ago. Why should he? How much do we know, any of us, about ourselves? How many generations can we trace back with any certainty?”

  Summer remembered something that, with his mind devoted to the trial, Darnell had forgotten. But before she told him she got out of bed, went into the bathroom and found a bottle of sleeping pills. She handed him one of them along with a glass of water.

  “Take this. You need to get some rest. You can’t spend a second night fretting about what’s going to happen next.”

  “There’s something you were going to tell me. What is it?”

  “Not until you take the pill.”

  With a show of reluctance, he did what he was told, and then waited for her to keep her end of the bargain.

  “Adam has never told you that he doesn’t know - has he? You just assumed that because all he would tell you is that it’s ‘always been.’”

  “Yes, but what else….?

  “Didn’t Holderlin tell you that they learn everything by listening to what they’re told, and that they have this oral tradition, this story – history, if you wish to call it that – that is committed to memory and passed down through the generations? If that’s true, then Adam knows it as well as we can read what is written in the Bible. He won’t tell you because you’re an outsider; he can’t reveal more to you than what you’ve already learned.”

  “That’s what he meant, at the end, when I finished my closing. He thanked me for what I had tried to do for him and said he wanted to thank me even more for what I hadn’t said. I had kept the secret and he was grateful for that.”

  Darnell changed into his pajamas and, feeling drowsy, got into bed beside Summer and closed his eyes. Summer kept talking about Adam and the stories he must have heard.

  “All the adventures, all the escapes, all the times they must have been threatened with extinction, all the last minute heroics to make sure they weren’t. What you said when Judge Pierce first tried to get the prosecution to reduce the charges, when she said that he would have to spend some time in prison – you were right, it’s true: Adam could never live a captive, he’ll die if he can’t be free.”

  Exhausted, all his energy spent, Darnell slept until noon. The first thing he wanted to know was whether anyone had called, whether the jury had reached a verdict. He knew of course that Summer would have awakened him if that had happened, but he had to be sure. Grumbling that he should not have slept so long, he had lunch and then went to the office where, as he quickly discovered, there was nothing to do. He had not agreed to take on any new cases because, as he had during each of his last few trials, he had thought this case might be his last. It was always a lie, the way he cheated himself into a future. If he got through what might be his last one, then why not do just one more, one more last one before he retired? The stack of letters asking if he would consider taking on the writer as a client had grown thicker by the day. He began to read them.

  At five o’clock the court clerk called. After deliberating all day, the jury had decided to have dinner brought so they could continue into the night. They were back at it in the morning and Darnell began to feel a surge of hope. If they had not decided yet, it must mean that they had some serious doubt about what the verdict should be. But a serious doubt meant that in their minds proof of guilt was anything but certain. And that had to mean…. It did not mean anything, and Darnell knew it. A jury could be out for a week and come back with a guilty verdict as if there had never been any doubt at all. Pulling a coin out of his pocket, he tossed it in the air and called out ‘heads.’ He caught it and slapped it down on the back of his other hand. It was ‘heads,’ but he still did not feel any better. The grim wait continued.

  But not for much longer. At three o’clock that afternoon, the court clerk called to tell him that the jury had reached a verdict. Everyone was to be in court in an hour. Darnell called Henry Hammersmith to let him know.

  There was a dead silence at the other end.

  “Henry, did you hear what I said? The jury has reached a verdict. Adam has to be in court in an hour. Four o’clock. Have him there a few minutes early, if you would. I want to talk to him.”

  “He isn’t here,” finally replied Henry Hammersmith. His voice was cold, distant, drawn in upon itself, as if he were being forced to repeat a fact that was no one’s business but his own.

  “What are you talking about? Of course he’s there. This isn’t time to play games, Henry. Quit trying to make me feel nervous.”

  “He left yesterday. He won’t be back.”

  It was as if Darnell had been struck a physical blow. A hollow, empty feeling was followed by a wave of nausea. He did not want to believe it and he was angry because he knew it was true.

  “How do you know -?”

  “He has my boat. He sailed away and they won’t find him. He’s safe and I can’t say I’m sorry.”

  “You knew about this? You knew about it yesterday and you didn’t tell me? You just let him go and didn’t try to stop him?”

  “I let him take the boat out by himself. I didn’t know he wouldn’t be coming back. But I’m not going to be a hypocrite and tell you that I’m sorry that he got away. Are you?”

  “Of course I…,” Darnell started to reply, only to realize that the answer was not as obvious as he had thought it would be. “It doesn’t matter, Henry; none of that matters now. He’s gone, and you’re going to have to come to court and tell the judge what happened.”

  Darnell discovered that he was not the only one disturbed. Hillary Clark was beside herself. With her lips pressed tight together, she twisted her mouth into one contortion after another while her hard-polished fingers beat a harsh staccato on the table. The sad-eyed bailiff stood off to the side, barely able to suppress a smile at the prosecutor’s apparent frustration. Then the court reporter walked in, and, a moment later, Evelyn Pierce took her place on the bench. Hillary Clark sprang to her feet.

  “Your Honor, I have to report what I think may be a kidnapping. The young woman, the victim in this case, the girl known as Alethia, has been missing for two days. She disappeared
from the hotel where she was being kept and no one has seen her since. She doesn’t know anyone here. It’s difficult to believe she just wandered off alone. Perhaps,” she added, turning a suspicious eye on Darnell, “counsel for the defense can shed some light on this.”

  Judge Pierce did not like the implication.

  “What makes you think Mr. Darnell would know anything about this? The girl was your witness. You made the arrangements about where she would stay and the people who would look after her. I don’t think -”

  “I may know something about this, your Honor,” said Darnell, in a tired, weary voice. “I’m afraid the defendant has also disappeared. I don’t know for certain that he took the girl with him, but I seriously doubt he would have left without her. They’re too much in love for that to happen, too much -”

  “No one’s interested in that!” shouted Hillary Clark. “The question is where have they gone? They need to be brought back. You need to tell the court everything you -”

  “Don’t you dare start telling anyone what the court requires!” scolded Judge Pierce. “Don’t even open your mouth unless I tell you to.” She stared hard at her a moment longer and then, with a much kinder expression, turned to Darnell. “You’re sure he’s gone, that he won’t be back, that he isn’t just lost somewhere?”

  “Henry Hammersmith, who posted his bail and was taking care of him, is waiting just outside. He can explain what’s happened, your Honor. It might be better if you heard from him.”

  Hammersmith was brought into court and sworn as a witness, but neither of the attorneys was allowed to ask a question. Evelyn Pierce took over.

  “I’ve had you sworn so that there won’t be any confusion in your mind that you have to tell the truth, the whole truth. Tell me what’s happened to the defendant and why he isn’t here.”

  “He borrowed my boat and -”

  “Borrowed your boat? Were you in the habit of letting him take it out alone?”

  “A couple of times. I couldn’t have sailed her alone, but Adam could.”

  “And you let him do this knowing that at any moment the jury might reach a verdict and he would have to be in court?”

  “No, I didn’t. He took the boat out just after dawn, the morning the jury first started deliberations. I thought he would be gone only a few hours.”

  “When he didn’t come back – what did you do then?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? You didn’t advise Mr. Darnell that there might be a problem? You didn’t think you had an obligation to inform the court?”

  Hammersmith sat on the witness chair just a few feet away, as close as if they were having a conversation across a table in his office. A strange and quite unexpected smile creased the corners of his mouth. It was the only answer he would give.

  “I see. You weren’t disappointed that he disappeared. You posted his bail, didn’t you? You told the court – you told me – that you guaranteed his appearance.”

  “And he appeared, didn’t he? – Every day of this misbegotten trial! He’s gone, your Honor, and there is nothing I can do about it.”

  “With that attitude, Mr. Hammersmith, I should throw you in jail for contempt.”

  “Go ahead, your Honor, if it will make you feel better. But that won’t change the fact that Adam isn’t going to be here.”

  “He should certainly be put in jail for -”

  “Enough, Ms. Clark! I’ve warned you before – I won’t warn you again.”

  She paused, drew back, placed her hands in her lap and appeared to consider her decision. Darnell had the feeling that though she would never show it, she had some sympathy for what Henry Hammersmith had done. She had one more question.

  “When you let him take your boat, you thought he was coming back? He didn’t say anything that even hinted that he had made up his mind to leave?”

  “He said he wanted to sail around the bay, that he knew he might not have another chance.”

  Evelyn Pierce nodded thoughtfully and lapsed into a prolonged silence.

  “Very well,” she said presently. “There’s no reason to think you were involved. You should have reported it, but I don’t see the point in punishing you for that. You did lose the boat, and you won’t get back the bail, so it wouldn’t be true to say that you haven’t paid a price for your neglect.”

  Henry Hammersmith, unrepentant as far as anyone could tell, was excused. Evelyn Pierce turned to the immediate question of the trial.

  “The defendant may not be here, but we have a verdict, and that verdict needs to be announced and this trial brought to a final conclusion.”

  She ordered the bailiff to bring in the jury. As they took what had now become their accustomed places in the jury box, Darnell had a premonition that his best hopes were about to be dashed. They seemed worn out, as if they had been struggling with something that had in the end defeated them. Their eyes were all averted, afraid, as it seemed, of what others might expect. They had the look of reluctant executioners.

  “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

  At the sound of the judge’s voice, they all looked up, but not one would so much as hazard a glance in the direction of the defendant. They did not notice the empty chair.

  “Yes, your Honor,” replied the foreperson, a tall, middle-aged woman with a long nose and an angular face. She looked unhappy. “We have.”

  “Would you please read the verdict.”

  She started to, but her eyes, drifting to the counsel table, registered surprise when she realized he was not there. She forced herself back to the single sheet of paper clutched in her hands.

  “On the charge of incest, we, the jury, find the defendant not guilty.”

  Darnell did not care about the charge of incest; only the murder charge was important. Still, they had found him not guilty of it, which meant they were not as blind as he had feared. He sat on the edge of the chair, tightening both hands into fists.

  “On the charge of murder, we, the jury, find the defendant….” She lowered her hand and looked straight at Darnell. “…guilty.”

  In the simple formality with which jury trials end, Evelyn Pierce thanked the jury for their service, waited until they left the courtroom, and then announced that a warrant would be issued for the arrest of the defendant. Sentencing would take place when he was brought into custody.

  Henry Hammersmith was waiting for Darnell when he walked out of the courtroom

  “I won’t ask you what you think, Bill; but I’m glad he got away. There is one other thing you should know. Yesterday, the day after Adam left, a strange man came to see me. He told me that Adam was no thief, that he didn’t steal my boat. He had come to pay me what the boat was worth.”

  There were only a few stragglers left in the corridor from the crowd that had packed the courtroom each day of the trial. Darnell leaned against the cool, white marble wall. For the second time that day he thought he knew what he had not yet heard.

  “What did he look like, this strange man who came to see you? Did he have an unusual face, almost perfectly balanced?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought to put it that way, but yes, exactly. You know him? He said his name was -”

  “Gerhardt Holderlin. Yes, you could say so.”

  “He said he was paying for the boat because he owed the boy a debt. What do you think he meant by that?”

  But Darnell was thinking about something else.

  “He came the next day, after Adam left? Which means that he knew before you did what Adam had done. And that means that, somehow, he helped Adam do it.”

  “That must be right, because there was another thing he said, a message he wanted me to give you. He asked that you not think too badly of him for what he had done. He said he was sorry that he had to lie.”

  “Lie - about what?” Then he knew, or thought he did. “I’ll tell you what he lied about! - Everything! It was all a made-up story, the whole fantastic lot of it. But why?” he asked, though he knew that Henry H
ammersmith could give no answer. “Why, for what reason? Holderlin apologized, did he?” he said angrily as turned and started toward the exit. “We’ll see what he has to say when I find him and he has to tell me face to face!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Summer tried to stop him.

  “You can’t just fly off to Berlin! You’re in no condition to go anywhere. You just finished a trial. You’re too exhausted – you’re too depressed!”

  “Depressed? I’m not depressed; angry, maybe, but not depressed. And as for being too exhausted, you were the one telling me that I ought to take some time and travel,” said Darnell with the sly grin she could never quite resist. He had been pacing around the living room, trying to work off some of his frustration. He sat down next to her on the sofa. “Why don’t you come with me? We can finally see Europe together.”

  Summer knew him too well to think he would change his mind. He was going and there was nothing she could do about it.

  “I would – I’d love to go with you – but I can’t. I have to get back to my patients. I’ve been gone too long as it is.” She patted his hand and smiled. “We both have things we have to do. But I still don’t understand what you hope to accomplish. What do you think this man Holderlin will tell you that you don’t already know or that will do you any good? There’s nothing he can say that can change the verdict or bring Adam back.”

  Darnell got to his feet again. With his hands on his hips he stared out the window at the great bridge, the one known all around the world, shining bright and golden in the mid-day sun. He thought about Adam and the girl, slipping between the steel pillars, early on a fog-bound morning, on their way to freedom somewhere no one would ever find them.

  “You’re glad he got away, aren’t you?” asked Summer, certain from the distant look in his eyes that it was true. Darnell laughed at how easily she could read his mind.

  “Yes, I suppose I am. It’s better than what would have happened had he stayed. There would not have been anything anyone could do after the jury came back with that verdict. He would have been sent to prison for the rest of his life. Hillary Clark would have been pleased, but no one else. Evelyn Pierce will never admit it, but I think she was relieved that she did not have to pass sentence and put him away. And we owe it all to Henry Hammersmith, who, when it came down to doing what he thought was right, didn’t give a damn about the law. Which proves, I suppose, that not every rich American is a complete idiot.”