Mr. American

by George MacDonald Fraser

  Pip hesitated. 'No, sir. Shocked, at first, when I saw what she was up to-'

  'But when you ran to stop her, you knew exactly what you were doing?'

  'Ye-es, sir.' Pip frowned doubtfully.

  'I mean, you were not panicky, at all? Quite collected?'

  It would not have been in Pip's character to look suspicious, so she looked serious instead.

  'Oh, yes. Perfectly collected, really.'

  'Good.' Mr Lees appeared satisfied. He smiled at her. 'Tell me, Miss Delys, had you any special reason for visiting the exhibition that day?' Before she could answer, Mr Lees chuckled genially. 'I think you did, didn't you?'

  'Oh ... oh, yes.' Pip smiled back at him.

  'You had modelled for two of the other paintings at the Academy, isn't that so? One of them by Signor Matania. Quite a distinction, to have your likeness hung twice at one Royal Academy.'

  'Yes, sir.' Pip could not conceal her pride. 'Mr Matania's "Carthage", and "Summer Zephyr"

  The judge roused himself. 'Two pictures? Of you, Miss er-urn ... ? Was that correct, Mr Lees?'

  Mr Lees said it was, and the judge asked what were the names again, and Mr Lees told him, and the judge made a note and said that was remarkable, thereby joining critical hands with Mr Bernard Shaw. Mr Lees smiled at the happy witness.

  'You must have been relieved that they were not attacked,' he said casually. Pip's face fell at once. 'Did the thought occur to you, Miss Delys?'

  'Yes, I remember it did. I remember saying to Mr Franklin - after that other one, of Venus, you know - '

  'Ah, yes, the Rokeby Venus.'

  'Well, when the suffragettes smashed it, I hoped they wouldn't touch mine, of course.'

  'Oh, so it was in your mind before you went to the Royal Academy?'

  'Yes - I suppose so. It had been, but I wasn't really worrying. 'Why?' asked Pip, frowning.

  'I think perhaps you were worrying, Miss Delys. I think the thought was in your mind, and you were very relieved to see that your paintings were all right, and then - 'Mr Lees suddenly leaned forward - when you saw Shore suddenly attack the Vision painting, with horrid violence, you were momentarily appalled. It might just as easily have been one of your paintings - the Matania perhaps? Didn't that flash through your mind? Didn't it?'

  'I don't know.' Pip was momentarily taken aback by the barrister's sudden vehemence. She shot a nervous glance at the judge. 'It might have - I don't think I - '

  'I'm sure it did! In your mind's eye you saw your own painting being defaced, and you were shocked, frightfully shocked, and you lost your head and rushed blindly forward, without really thinking, and tried to stop her. You weren't quite sure what you were doing, were you?'

  'Of course I was!' said Pip. She stared angrily at Mr Lees. 'I wanted to stop her hacking the painting - it didn't matter whose it was!'

  'Didn't it? Are you quite certain? Didn't you think: "That's my painting - the lovely nude by Mr Matania - I've got to save it!" Isn't that what you thought? And didn't everything suddenly swim round you, and the next thing you knew you were being helped to your feet?'

  To Mr Franklin's astonishment, and that of everyone else in the court, Pip said nothing. She was looking pale, and angry; Mr Lees shook his head sadly.

  'That's what you told the press, you know.' He held up a clipping.

  "For a moment I was petrified. Then I thought "That's my painting - the lovely nude by Mr Matania - I've got to save it". And everything swam round me, and I didn't know where I was, and I think I ran forward, but all I could see was my picture being cut to pieces by that awful axe, and then everything went black, and next thing I knew they were helping me to my feet."

  Mr Lees laid down the clipping. 'From the Star of May 19. There are similar quotations in the other papers. I think that's the truth, isn't it, Miss Delys? I don't believe you really remember what happened - and you're in no position to say whether the cleaver was aimed at you or

  not.'

  `That's not true.' Pip spoke quite steadily, making no attempt to revert to her role of ingenue. `What I've said here is on oath, and it's what happened. What's in the papers - well, they make up anything. I can't remember every word I said to them, at the time, but I know what I've said here today is gospel.' She looked at the judge. 'She didn't try to hit me with the axe. She was just hitting the painting. That's the truth, my lord.'

  The judge nodded solemnly, and looked at Mr Lees, who sat down. Sir Huntly said nothing, since this aspect of the case was no concern of his, but Mr Stratton arose and did what he could on behalf of his client, Millicent Shore. But beyond getting Pip to restate that her evidence was true, and the account in the papers a mixture of romantic fiction and distortion, he accomplished little. The jury, who had hung on Pip's every word at first, looked uncertain; their admiration of the fair witness's charms might be undiminished, but their faith in her memory was visibly shaken. After all, it was in the papers ... they hated Mr Lees, but they could not fail to be impressed by him.

  The judge, whatever he may have thought of Pip's reliability as a witness, was in no doubt of what was fitting. `You are an extremely plucky young lady,' he told her when she stood down. 'If all your sex acted with such selfless disregard, and with such a proper concern for the public good, we should not be trying this deplorable case today.' Pip managed a polite smile in reply, but Mr Franklin could see she was inwardly boiling.

  'I'll never trust a bloody reporter again!' she exploded, when they were seated in the corner booth of a public house during the luncheon recess. 'Why won't I learn to keep my mouth shut! They egg you on to say such damfool things, and you never think. .. my stars, I ought to know better. And that slimy shark of a lawyer, leading me on, and then making me out to be some hysterical cow that doesn't know what she's doing! Makes you feel such an awful fool!'

  'I know,' said Mr Franklin. 'The same gentleman thoroughly convinced the jury that I'm the biggest liar that ever took the oath - oh, a very honourable liar, to be sure, but ...'

  `And I haven't done that poor old soul a bit of good!' said Pip bitterly. `It's so unfair! All right, she slashed the picture, and she's a wicked old faggot, but I think she's barmy, anyway. And she looked so frail and old, and that oily villain of a lawyer'll shop her all the way to Holloway and back. It's not right - she never thought of taking a swipe at me!'

  'I'm quite sure she didn't,' said Mr Franklin. 'But I'm very much afraid the jury will end up believing she did.' He was thinking of the large man's evidence which was still to come, and the event justified him.

  The large man was named Miller, a stockbroker of Ealing who testified with confidence and a fine sense of outrage. This did no great harm to Lady Helen's defence; witness's evidence of how she had 'thrust viciously' and 'slashed violently' with her parasol at Mr Franklin was effectively countered when Sir Huntly produced the parasol itself, weighing the frilly little article lightly in his palm, and then placing it open over his shoulder. The jury laughed, and looked sceptical when Mr Miller declared huffily that the ferrule might easily have taken Mr Franklin's eye out. But the stockbroker hammered a convincing nail in Millicent Shore's coffin: he was positive she had aimed a blow of the cleaver at Miss Delys, directly and deliberately, and no cross-examination could shake him. He had seen what he had seen, and that was that.

  Even so, the evidence seemed evenly-balanced until the appearance of Mrs Jennifer Redcliffe, the lady who had spoken to Pip earlier on the fateful afternoon. Dabbing constantly at her nose with a handkerchief,' Mrs Redcliffe described with agitation how Shore had undoubtedly aimed her final blow at the actress's hand.

  'She tried to chop at her,' said Mrs Redcliffe in shocked tones. 'She tried to chop at her arm. It was a dreadful wicked thing! I expected to see the little girl - 'at this Pip gave a suppressed snort' - appallingly injured. That fearful weapon missed her by a fraction - the merest fraction.' Mrs Redcliffe shuddered, and dabbed vigorously.

  Mr Stratton made the mistake of suggesting th
at Pip, who had given contrary evidence, was surely in a position to know best; he received a crushing retort.

  'How could she?' demanded Mrs Redcliffe indignantly. 'She was distraught, trying to restrain that ... that wicked woman! I am sure she may not believe herself that such a callous attack was made on her - she could not conceive of it! She has womanly instinct, and no doubt even feels pity for her . . . her assailant. Misguided pity.' Mrs Redcliffe sniffed rendingly. `She is the most sweet and delicate creature imaginable.' The sweet and delicate creature squirmed and muttered 'Oh, Christ!', and Mrs Redcliffe struck a final telling blow by describing Pip's wild entreaties, as she called them, which indicated the overwrought condition of the heroine.

  The remaining witnesses had little to add. One attendant testified that Lady Helen had not resisted arrest; another described the state of the vandalised painting, and the gashes in the wall behind, which suggested that Shore had struck with the strength of frenzy. The President of the Academy testified tactfully that the defaced picture's value was not to be calculated in financial terms; when the judge suggested that the Academy might consider covering its paintings with unbreakable glass, the President winced and replied that quite apart from the matter of cost, the viewing of works of art through glass was an affront to the sensibilities; his additional aside that one might as well wash one's feet with one's socks on was fortunately lost in the judge's observation that he had some pictures at home - quite good pictures, he believed - and they had glass on them. The President looked as though he wasn't in the least surprised, and thereafter stood down.

  There being no defence witnesses, the judge reminded the accused that they had the choice of remaining silent, or making an unsworn statement, or of giving evidence on oath subject to cross-examination. At this Sir Huntly went into earnest whispered consultation with his client and her solicitor; General Flashman sat forward attentively

  watching. Lady Helen was seen to speak forcibly in a low tone, Sir Huntly made soothing gestures, and finally Lady Helen, whose expression suggested both impatience and suspicion, gave an irritated little shrug and withdrew from the consultation. Sir Huntly announced that his client had no statement to make, and Mr Stratton called Millicent Shore to the witness box.

  She took the oath in a surprisingly strong voice, although her hand was seen to be trembling on the edge of the box. She agreed that she had no regrets about the mutilation of the picture, but denied absolutely that she had tried to injure the young woman who had attempted to restrain her; indeed, she most sincerely begged the young lady's pardon - at which Pip was seen to shake her head in distressed acknowledgement. Mr Stratton pointed out that several witnesses had given an exactly opposite account, and Millicent Shore became pathetically vehement. She would never do such a thing; it was a wicked lie to suggest that she had tried to hurt a fellow-creature. At this point she burst into tears, and a wardress was allowed to attend her, which consisted of seating her on a chair in the box and laying a hand on her shoulder. After a moment the accused dried her eyes and repeated her denial in a shaking voice.

  `Why should I wish to injure her? It's not true!' She had her head down, and her words were punctuated by sobs. 'Her hand may have been there, but I didn't try to hit it! I did not. I never struck at her! She knows I did not - she's told you!' She raised a ravaged face to stare round the court; her white hair straggled untidily from beneath her shabby hat, and her face was a picture of grief. `Why don't you believe her? I swear I didn't try to hurt her! I wouldn't for the world!' 'Of course she didn't!' This was Pip, indignantly audible. `Why don't you let her alone?'

  There were admonitory murmurs, and the judge, more in gentle reproof than anger, warned the interruptor that she must be silent or she would be removed from the court. Pip, pale but mutinous, was subsiding, when suddenly Lady Helen Cessford stood up in the dock and announced in a loud, firm voice:

  'I wish to be called as a witness.'

  Sir Huntly flapped up like a startled eagle, the judge ordered Lady Helen to be seated, Sir Huntly whispered to her urgently, and presently she sat down with evident reluctance. Mr Stratton resumed his examination, but beyond her repeated assertion that she was innocent of any attempt to injure Pip, delivered in a tearful voice with much shaking of her lowered head, he got little more from Millicent Shore. To Mr Franklin it appeared that there was a sense of sympathy in the court for the pathetic figure in the box; the jury were looking uncomfortable, and there were even a few muted murmurs from the public benches. And then Mr Lees got to his feet.

  He stood in silence until the witness's sobbing had subsided, and began his cross-examination in a quiet, patient voice, asking about the choice of the cleaver to mutilate the picture. Whose cleaver was it? The accused's; she used it for chopping kindling. Had Lady Helen suggested its employment? No. But Lady Helen must have approved it, surely? Witness could not remember; she rather thought Lady Helen had said it would do; something like that. Mr Lees then wondered why Millicent Shore, rather than the younger and stronger Lady Helen, had undertaken to make the attack on the picture. No reply. Mr Lees continued quietly:

  `Did Lady Helen tell you to make the attack?' 'I don't remember.'

  'I think you do. Did she not instruct you to destroy the picture?' There was a long pause, and then Millicent Shore lifted her head and spoke clearly.

  'No, she didn't. It was agreed.'

  'Agreed.' Mr Lees paused. 'Very well. Now tell me - when you struck the picture ... what was in your mind?'

  Millicent Shore hesitated. Then: 'To destroy it.'

  'And did you? You struck three blows, I understand. Did that deface it to your satisfaction?'

  It was the first hint of an edge to his examination, but Millicent Shore seemed not to notice.

  'I had no opportunity ... to strike again. I was thrown down and they took hold of me.'

  'Would you have struck further blows - if you could?'

  'I might have done.' She was more composed now, with her head up. She pushed aside a tendril of hair from her face.

  'Why?' Mr Lees's voice was sharp. 'You had effectively ruined it. You had cut a great piece right out of the canvas - destroying forever the work on which someone who had never done you the least harm, had expended so much love and labour. Why strike again?' Millicent Shore's mouth had begun to quiver, and without waiting for an answer Mr Lees went harshly on: 'But when Miss Delys caught at your hand, you did strike again, didn't you?'

  'At the painting - yes.'

  Oh? You didn't hit it, though, did you? You came much closer to hitting Miss Delys.'

  'I didn't mean to!' Suddenly the tears began again. 'I didn't try to hit her! I struck at the p-picture!'

  'Quite deliberately? You were calm and collected, were you?' 'I was hitting at the painting!' 'You wanted to hit it again?'

  'Yes - I've told you - '

  'Yes! But Miss Delys got in your way, didn't she? She tried to stop you, and you didn't want to be stopped!' 'I ... I don't know what you mean...'

  'Yes, you do! You were slashing at the painting with all your might, intent on destroying it - that was the one thought in your mind, remember? And suddenly someone intervenes - ' Mr Lees's voice was rising ' - before your work of destruction was complete - but you went on striking, with maniac strength, didn't you ?'

  'I didn't strike at her!' Millicent Shore was weeping steadily now. 'I was hitting at the painting - '

  'Yes, until a hand reached out between you and the picture, and you went on slashing callously, with furious disregard for whoever was getting in your way - '

  'I didn't! It's not so! I didn't!'

  'Then why strike at all? When you saw her hand, why not drop the cleaver? You'd done your beastly work - why continue the blow that almost severed a young girl's fingers? Why turn the fury of your blow on her?'

  'I didn't! I didn't! It's a lie!'

  'Witnesses saw you do that very thing! They say that only by merciful chance was she not terribly mutilated - '

&
nbsp; 'No! No! No!' Millicent Shore's face was in her hands, she was rocking in her seat. 'I wouldn't have hurt her for - '

  'How touching!' sneered Mr Lees. 'You would not have hurt her, but you slashed madly at her with a cleaver, and came within an ace of shearing her fingers - of crippling an innocent girl for life! I put it to you that in your fury you would have slashed at anything that came in your way -