The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [271]
And so it was Lucius who, at just past ten, took the oath and sat in the witness chair, ready to reveal all the details about Daniel Hatch’s gun that he and his brother had put together during our stay in Ballston Spa. The courtroom had a different feel to it, now, one brought on by the new faces what were visible behind the defense table: Dr. William Alanson White, a young, short man with spectacles; Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, looking her best; and finally a peculiar-looking mug what tried to make up for his unimpressive size by puffing himself up like a rooster: “Dr.” Albert Hamilton, the well-known ballistics “expert.” Dr. White and Mrs. Cady Stanton only offered the most formal of greetings to those members of our party they knew, making it clear from the outset that they didn’t agree with what we were up to; and I don’t think the strained nature of the situation did anything to help Lucius’s nerves. Still, he held himself together very admirably, sitting and waiting to be questioned like he did it every day of his life.
In fact, during Mr. Picton’s questioning the detective sergeant came off something like impressive: he didn’t leave out any details, didn’t hesitate in his answers, and didn’t even sweat, or, at least, not much more than anyone else on that warm, humid August morning. In a funny kind of way I was proud of him, being as I knew how much he hated the position he’d been forced into; it wasn’t until the very end of his testimony that things started to get a little bumpy.
“Just a few more details, Detective Sergeant,” Mr. Picton said. “You’ve told us approximately when the revolver was last fired, how many shots were expended, how just two bullets could have been responsible for the wounds inflicted on the three children, and how closely the bullet removed from the Hatches’ wagon matches the barrel of Daniel Hatch’s gun. But was there anything you came across during your inspection of the weapon that might lead you to hazard a guess as to who fired it last?”
“Yes, there was,” Lucius answered quickly.
“And what was that?”
“We performed a dactyloscopy test. We compared the results to samples taken from household objects that belonged to the defendant. The match was perfect.”
Once again, Mr. Darrow was out of his chair like a shot. “I object to this line of questioning, Your Honor,” he said. “The state is attempting to enter evidence of a type that has never been accepted in an American court of law, and I’m sure they know it.”
“Quite right,” Judge Brown replied, turning what was becoming his usual critical glance to Mr. Picton. “Unless the assistant district attorney is in possession of some new scientific data that establish fingerprinting—which, for the benefit of the jury, is what he’s talking about—as absolutely reliable, or unless he can provide me with a precedent for its being allowed in an American court, I cannot permit this testimony to continue.”
“Your Honor need not allow it to continue,” Mr. Picton said. “In fact, the state does not wish to continue. We acknowledge that fingerprinting is not yet accepted in American courts of law, despite the fact that it has been effectively used as evidence in courtrooms in Argentina—”
“Mr. Picton,” the judge warned, leveling his gavel.
“—and despite the fact, as well, that the British government in India has ordered its use throughout that colony by police and prosecutors—”
“Mr. Picton, enough!” the judge yelled, banging the gavel.
“Your Honor,” Mr. Picton said, putting his innocent look on again. “I beg the court’s pardon,