Deborah Camp (26 page)

“Mr. Potter, call your next witness—today.” Judge Langarten crossed his arms on the desk and his face creased into lines of weariness.

“Oh, very well.” Potter breathed a labored sigh. “I was going to call Mrs. Nation next, but Sheriff Stu wants to testify—”

“Objection,” Theo said, rising from his chair again. “The sheriff was my witness.”

“When do I get to talk?” Mrs. Nation asked, thumping a fist against the desk. “I have a lot to say.”

“I’m sure you do,” Judge Langarten said, his voice dry as kindling. “But not yet, Mrs. Nation. Now, Mr. Potter, remember law school? Remember
the classes about witnesses for the prosecution and the defense? Any of this ring a bell?”

Theo lowered himself to his chair again. The trial was dissolving into a comedy of errors with Potter as the star attraction.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Potter said, almost whining, “but the sheriff here has something to say that he didn’t get to say earlier and he says it might win the case for me.”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Theo said. “This is highly improper. The sheriff has given his testimony and Mr. Potter had ample opportunity to question him then.”

“I want to recall that witness,” Potter said, almost hysterical now. “I can do that, can’t I?”

“After you’ve called all your witnesses, then I might entertain that motion, Counselor,” the judge said. “Next witness?”

“I have to call all of them before I can re-call the sheriff?” Potter asked, near tears.

“Yes, Mr. Potter. You want Mrs. Nation to testify in her defense next, or do you have another witness for the defense?” He pointed a finger at Potter. “For the defense, Mr. Potter. Those are the key words here. The sheriff was a witness for the prosecution.”

“Oh dear, oh dear.” Potter wrung his handkerchief and glanced from the judge to Mrs. Nation. He bent toward his client and whispered something that set her to shaking her head. “But Mrs. Nation—”

“No, I want to talk. I have a speech prepared.”

“Mr. Potter!” Judge Langarten hammered the gavel.

Potter bounced in agitation. “Very well, very well! I’m finished. Now can I recall the sheriff? You promised I could!”

The judge fell back in his chair and spread out
his arms. “Why not? This has ceased to be a serious trial.” He turned to the jury. “I want to apologize to you gentlemen for the conduct in this courtroom today. Usually a trial is an orderly review of evidence, but this is more like a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta!” He shifted his gaze to Theo. “Mr. Dane, I’m going to allow this recall in the best interests of this hearing. You understand?”

“This is highly irregular and might constitute a mistrial, Your Honor, but, yes, I understand.” Theo shifted his gaze to Potter, then to Stu, curious as to what the sheriff had up his sleeve. “You may call my witness, Counselor.”

A man dressed in overalls stood up from the third row. “We gonna get to see the hatchet she used?”

“I didn’t bring it. It’s in my shed, back of the house,” Mrs. Nation called to him. “You can drop by anytime and I’ll show it to you.”

“You sit down!” Judge Langarten bellowed, half rising from his chair to point menacingly at the man, then directing his anger at Mrs. Nation. “And you, madam, keep quiet!”

“I will not!” Mrs. Nation stood, shaking with affront. “I will say my piece.”

“Not in my court, Mrs. Nation. You either sit down and keep quiet or I’ll cite you in contempt and have you jailed.”

Regina leaned forward and snagged Mrs. Nation’s sleeve. She tugged until the woman looked around at her.

“Please, Mrs. Nation,” Regina whispered urgently. “Let Mr. Potter handle this. Please?”

Bea Dane motioned for Mrs. Nation to take her seat and Joy Edwards, sitting beside her, concurred with a vigorous nod.

“Mrs. Nation,” Judge Langarten said, drawing out her name in a threatening manner.

“I’m sitting,” Mrs. Nation said, falling like a stone into the chair. “And I’m shutting. For now.” Her teeth clicked together and her dark eyes glittered with abundant spirit.

“The defense calls Sheriff Stewart,” Potter said, wiping his sweaty brow. “Thank you, Your Honor. I hope I’m doing right.”

“It’s too late for that,” the judge observed. “Sheriff, I must remind you that you’re still under oath to tell the truth.”

“Yes, Judge.” Stu sat in the witness chair and his gaze darted nervously in the direction of the prosecution’s table, although he made no eye contact with anyone there.

“State your name and occupation, please,” Morton Potter said.

“Boyd Stewart. I’m the sheriff in Eureka Springs.”

“Do you have family here, Sheriff?”

Stu blinked at Potter, clearly confounded. “What? Do I have a family? Why is that important?”

“I agree, Your Honor, and I object,” Theo said.

“Sustained.” Judge Langarten squinted over his glasses at the trembling Potter. “Shall we try to ask intelligent questions, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, sir.” Potter cleared his throat. “Did you arrest Carry Nation on the night of—”

“Objection,” Theo interrupted. “The witness has been asked this and he has answered.” He shrugged grandly. “Your Honor, what is the point of rehashing the sheriff’s forthright testimony?”

“What is the point of anything Mr. Potter has done in this courtroom today?” the judge rejoined, then patted the air. “Objection sustained. I suggest you sit this out, Mr. Dane, or you’ll be exhausted
in no time.” Laughter erupted in the courtroom and Langarten let it die before he swung his gaze back to the defense attorney. “We aren’t all as forgetful as you, Mr. Potter. We can remember the sheriff’s testimony, so ask him something we don’t know.”

“Uh … very well.” Potter ran a finger inside his collar. “Do you think Mrs. Nation is a menace, Sheriff?”

Sheriff Stu shifted in the chair. “Looky here, this isn’t getting us anywhere.” He twisted toward the judge. “Could I just say what I have to say, sir? I tried to when I was up here before, but Theo only let me say what he wanted to hear.”

Judge Langarten laughed silently. “Sheriff Stu, don’t blame Mr. Dane for that. You see, a good attorney is supposed to make the witness keep to an agenda.” He glanced pointedly at Potter before returning his attention to the sheriff. “I will allow this witness to speak his piece, but I will stop him if I feel he is veering into objectionable or dangerous territory.” He aimed a glance at Theo. “Trust me, Counselor.”

Theo extended a hand, palm out. “I have no objection—yet.”

The judge leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers atop his stomach, and nodded to the sheriff. “Go ahead. Let’s hear it.”

“Well, sir, I’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing. I bet, if he was honest, Tom Wilson has, too. I thought Mrs. Nation had gone ’round the bend when I arrested her that night. I’d heard the rumors that she was a little crazy and I believed them that night. I go to church when I can, and Reverend Hampf has told us that Mrs. Nation is flighty and can’t be trusted.”

“I’m as honest as the day is long,” Mrs. Nation
announced, and Potter turned to her, his hands clasped in a prayful manner.

Theo was surprised when the portly man didn’t fall to his knees before his client and beg her to behave. Theo returned his attention to Stu, baffled by the sheriff’s insistence on being heard.

“Mrs. Nation, button your lip,” the judge ordered. “Continue, Sheriff. You still have the floor.”

“Thanks.” He twisted toward the jury. “You see, gents, I’ve had the chance to see Mrs. Nation’s work up close. Did y’all know that she opens her dining room every single night to anyone who needs a hot meal? Nobody has to go hungry in Eureka Springs. That’s something most towns can’t boast of. What with the mines struggling and times being hard, a lot of folks are down on their luck and down to their last cent. But they don’t starve here because they can always go to Mrs. Nation’s and get a free meal. I’ve eaten there, gentlemen, and she serves up some tasty meals. Makes everyone feel right at home.” He smiled and directed a friendly glance toward Mrs. Nation. “Her door is always open to those who have nowhere else to turn. If you think the world is hard on us men, well, brothers, you ought to see how it treats women.”

Theo looked over his shoulder at the rapt expressions of Regina and the Hatchet Hall boarders. Stu’s about-face had clearly come out of the blue to them, too.

“What’s he doing?” Tom grumbled. “You gonna let him ruin our case?”

“You heard the judge. Let’s hear him out, Tom,” Theo whispered, patting Wilson’s shoulder. “I don’t see how he can damage our case.”

“I don’t see him helpin’ it none, either.”

“Shhh.” Theo angled away from Wilson, wanting to catch Stu’s every word.

“… and they come to her all battered and bruised and scared and she just takes them in. Strangers. They’re all strangers to her, but she opens her home up and gives them someplace peaceful where they can think about where they’ll go and what they’ll do next. Most of them bring their children, too. From what I know about her, Mrs. Nation doesn’t ask for money. She’s mighty glad when they’re able to pay something for their board, but she never asks.” He looked out at the gallery. “Folks, I’m here to tell you that this town would be worse off without her. Maybe she seems crazy to some of us, but she’s a saint to those women. I know some of you think it’s bad for women to leave their husbands, but I say it’s bad for a husband to get drunk and beat on his wife and children, too.

“What I want to say is this—our town attracts all kinds of people seeking a cure in our springs, and we think that’s all fine and good. Mrs. Nation is a healing springs in her own way. The people coming to her for healing don’t cause this town any trouble. Sometimes their husbands come looking for them, but those husbands aren’t any more trouble than any other drunks I have to deal with every night in our saloons. If Mrs. Nation left town tomorrow, I’d still have drunks to arrest. That wouldn’t change. What would change is that the poor and hungry would be starving. They’d probably have to steal food or beg on the streets.” He wiped his palms on his trouser legs and looked uncomfortable. “I’m all done, Judge.”

Judge Langarten studied Stu for a few moments, then he smiled. “Thank you, Sheriff.” He turned toward Theo. “Anything you want to ask, Mr. Dane?”

“No, sir.” Theo grinned at Stu. The sly fox. He’d been won over that night they’d had dinner at
Mrs. Nation’s, but he’d never let on. Too bad Wilson hadn’t been there. If he had been, this trial might not have happened.

“Does the defense rest?” the judge asked, glaring at Potter in a blatant warning.

“Yes, sir.” Potter sat beside Mrs. Nation and fanned himself with a sheaf of papers.

“We’ll recess and then have your closing arguments.” The gavel fell. “Ten minutes.”

“Theo, I want to talk to you,” Tom said, his gaze drifting to Stu. “I want your best advice—as a friend.”

“On the counts of breaking and entering and destruction of property, we, the jury, find the defendant guilty on both counts,” the head juror declared.

Murmurs moved through the courtroom like a tide. Women sobbed. One man whooped with joy. Another man applauded the decision. Most shook their heads and struggled with mixed feelings. Discontent hung in the room like a stench. From the corner of his eye, Theo caught sight of Regina sitting straight and tall, her gray eyes brimming, her chin angled up with stubborn pride. God, she never gives up, he thought. Never.

“Your Honor, may we approach the bench?” Theo asked, rising from his chair with Tom Wilson at his side.

Judge Langarten lifted his brows, but then motioned them forward. “Why worry about protocol now? Come ahead. You, too, Potter.”

Theo strode forward and waited for Potter to join him. “Judge, my client has asked that the sentencing be slight. We request leniency of this court.”

Potter sputtered, then eyed Theo as a mouse
would a cat. “What
are
you up to? Judge, he’s trying to pull something. I just know it!”

The judge gave Potter a chiding smirk. “Calm down, Potter. I don’t believe there is a plot afoot to ruin you or your client. What are you up to, Mr. Dane?”

“We’re happy to win the battle, sir, but we’re not interested in the spoils,” Theo explained. “My client isn’t a vindictive man. He only wanted Mrs. Nation to understand that she broke the law and that he wouldn’t tolerate it.”

The judge nodded. “I see. Well, Potter? What do you have to say about this? Anything intelligent?”

“I … I …”

“Good. Sit down, Potter.” The judge made a shooing motion. “I will instruct the jury accordingly, Mr. Dane.” Judge Langarten swung around to the jury. “Gentlemen, this is highly irregular, but it goes along with the rest of this case. The prosecution has asked that you be lenient in your sentencing. I suggest that you heed their request and award Mr. Wilson one dollar and attorney fees. Do you need to adjourn to deliberate?”

The head juror shook his head. “We’re way ahead of you, judge. We were going to ask if we could award a token.”

Theo chuckled at the dramatic turn of events. Eric tapped him on the shoulder.

“Good for you. Was that your idea or Wilson’s?”

“Wilson’s.”

“Theo’s,” Tom said. “But I’m all for it. After hearing Stu, I figured I was about to throw the baby out with the bathwater. The old girl is aggravating, but she’s not all bad. As long as she stays the hell away from my saloon, this town is big enough for the both of us.”

“Hush up,” Theo whispered. “Here’s the sentence.
They’re going to go light on her,” he told Wilson.

Tom nodded. “I’ll just be glad to get this thing behind me.”

Judge Langarten read from the paper presented to him by the head juror. “Will the defendant please stand?”

Mrs. Nation rose from her chair. Dressed all in black, she was a plump exclamation mark amid the colorful summer fashions in the courtroom.

“Carry A. Nation, you have been found guilty, and you are fined by this court one dollar, plus attorney fees.”

Theo turned slowly until he’d come face-to-face with Regina. He could tell she was holding her breath. “Council waives his fee, Your Honor.”

Regina’s gasp of surprise and sudden smile were sweet rewards.