The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [267]
Mr. Picton was out of his chair like the seat was lined with hot coals. “Your Honor, the state protests! We asked for special treatment of this witness, and what do we get? Leading and badgering!”
Before the judge could answer, Mr. Darrow was holding up a hand. “I will withdraw the question, Your Honor, and try to make my questions more palatable to the state.” Again smiling at the witness, Mr. Darrow asked, “Clara, when did you first start to remember what happened that night? I mean, remember it so that you could talk about it?”
Clara shrugged, her face looking even more worried after the short but sharp exchange between the lawyers. “Not too long ago, I guess.”
“Before you met Dr. Kreizler?” Clara reluctantly shook her head. “After you met Dr. Kreizler?” Clara didn’t move. “Or was it when you met Dr. Kreizler?”
Mr. Picton was up again. “Your Honor, with all due respect, which question does the learned counsel from Illinois wish the witness to answer?”
“Sit down, Mr. Picton,” Judge Brown replied. “The counsel for the defense is within his rights.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Mr. Darrow said. “Well, Clara?”
“I never forgot,” the girl answered, more tears coming as she did. “I never forgot, not really.”
“And what didn’t you forget? You never knew what happened to Tommy and Matthew, that’s fine, you’ve told us that. So you couldn’t and don’t remember it. But what did you know that you didn’t forget?”
“I never—” Looking up at the bench pleadingly, Clara said, “I don’t know what he means.”
“I mean, Clara,” Mr. Darrow went on, being a little firmer now, “what was it that you know that you never forgot, and what was it that you know that you forgot and only remembered not too long ago?”
Her body shaking once, Clara finally let out a sob as she looked from the judge to Mr. Darrow, and then tried to peer around the lawyer at the Doctor, who, for his part, was also desperately attempting to get himself into position to be seen by her.
“What the devil?” the Doctor whispered. “He’s deliberately attempting to confuse her—”
“I don’t understand!” Clara said again, openly crying now.
“Clara,” Mr. Darrow went on, “it’s very simple—”
“It’s not!” the girl cried. “I don’t understand—”
“Which is which?” Mr. Darrow said, surprising everyone in the room by letting his voice get stern, even a bit harsh. “What did you always know, and what did you forget but remember not too long ago, perhaps at about the time that you met Dr. Kreizler—and perhaps when you met Dr. Kreizler? Clara! You must—”
“Stop it!” a voice called out, silencing both the lawyer and the mumbling what had started in the galleries. The entire room turned to the defense table, where Libby Hatch was, like her daughter, in tears. “Leave her alone!” she shouted at Darrow. “You can’t treat her like this, not with what she’s been through. If she doesn’t remember, then she doesn’t! Stop browbeating my child! Stop it—s top!” Throwing her face into her hands, Libby collapsed onto the table as the crowd started to hum like a hive again, causing Judge Brown to smash his gavel down.
“The defendant will get herself under control!” he ordered. “And so will the galleries! Mr. Darrow—the court would like to know—”
“If it please the court, Your Honor,” Mr. Darrow said quickly. “The defense will forgo the remainder of its questions to this witness. Under the circumstances, we ask for an adjournment until tomorrow morning.”
The noise of the crowd grew louder at that, and the judge set to rapping away. “Silence! I won’t have another sound!” As his order began to take effect, the judge set his gavel aside, looking very displeased. “The witness is excused,” he called. “And court is adjourned until ten o’clock tomorrow morning—at which time I’d better see some radically different behavior, or I will close these proceedings!” A final rap, and Bailiff Coffey moved to help Clara—who was weeping heavily now—down out of the witness box. Mr. Picton rushed over to lend a hand, but the little girl’s tormented eyes were fixed on her apparently devastated mother.