Hugh Kenrick (44 page)

“No, sir. That worthy lord was brutally murdered by persons unknown, before he could sign anything other than the sworn and witnessed documents necessary to begin this suit.”

“And am I not correct in assuming that among the affidavits now in Milord Justice’s possession, none is signed by the late Marquis?”

“You are correct in assuming that, sir,” answered Parrot.

Jones nodded. “Thank you, Counselor,” he said with a broad smile. “You have been most cooperative.”

Jones turned to address Grainger. He wondered why he had not intervened to block the questioning, as he knew Parrot was praying for Grainger to do. “The Crown has already examined the accused, milord, and read to the court each of their admissions to the authorship of many of the statements to be found in the Society’s minutes and which subsequently found their way in twisted forms to the poster. However, this was done while the accused were being brought here. I therefore beg permission to introduce these gentlemen to the court and jury.”

Grainger shrugged his shoulders. “Certainly, Counselor. The court would not ask the jury to indict mere names, without offering those gentlemen a chance to associate those names with the actual persons.”

As he turned away from the bench, Jones muttered beneath his breath, “Milord is too kind.”

The prisoners remained standing in the dock. Jones asked each one for his name, club name, and profession. When this was done, Jones invited King’s Counsel to question the prisoners. Parrot declined. “The Crown has asked the accused all the questions it need ask, Counselor. Thank you, though, for the opportunity.”

Jones turned to the jury and repeated Parrot’s earlier description of the Society of the Pippin, but without insinuating that the club was a sinister band of conspirators. “It was no more than an association of private persons who enjoyed exercising their minds on a wide field of mental play and inquiry,” he explained. He went on to state that three of the members had not been identified and found, and so could not be questioned. “The venue of the Society’s meetings is immaterial,” he continued. “If the Society had conducted its meetings in a private home, there is no guarantee that this
trial or hearing would not have taken place, given the intrusive scope of Crown authority over our lives. But it is my firm conviction that the accused were betrayed by one of the three missing members. The late Marquis, who brought this suit, would certainly have not been invited into this Society. Metaphysical speculation could be said to be his foible, rather than his forte. It is on record with a number of justices of the peace that he was arrested and charged on three separate occasions for molesting citizens and disturbing the peace, but went free upon payment of the fines.”

Parrot rose to lodge an objection. “The late Marquis’ character is not in question here, milord, and the Crown asks the bench to instruct the jury to disregard the Counselor’s remarks on that matter.”

Grainger sustained the objection, and so instructed the jury.

“Be that as it may,” continued Jones, “the late Marquis could not have possibly come into possession of the Society’s minutes, not unless they were either stolen, or given to him by a member of the Society—that is, by a false friend of the accused.”

Jones turned to Parrot and said, “Therefore, I concur with King’s Counsel that only a ‘Pippin’ could have authored the statements on the poster. However, that ‘Pippin’ could not have been one of the accused. Of the three members known only as Muir, Miltiades, and Mathius, the accused agree that only Mathius had reason and opportunity to betray them to the late Marquis. He was the last ‘Pippin’ to have had the ledger of minutes in his possession.”

Grainger interrupted Jones. “The court objects to the Counselor’s characterization of this missing member as a traitor, for it casts further doubt on the character and motive of the late Marquis. The late Marquis exercised his right and duty, as did, apparently, the missing member.”

Jones said, “I beg permission to call character witnesses for the accused, milord. They are here and eager to testify.”

Grainger granted permission. For the next hour and a half, the prisoners’ wives, friends, and business associates were examined by Jones. They all gave glowing appraisals of the accuseds’ characters and lives, though all confessed ignorance of the Society of the Pippin and the accuseds’ memberships in it. When the last witness returned to the spectators’ section, Jones paced thoughtfully before the bench. “The one witness, other than the missing members, who could have told the court something about the benign character of the Society, is Mabel Petty, proprietress of the Fruit Wench tavern, where the Society held its meetings. Unfortunately, she is
not free to testify in this matter, as she has been promised prosecution by the Crown for harboring and abetting, should she appear as a witness for the defense, or even sign a deposition for it.”

Grainger glanced at Parrot, who rose and objected to the suggestion that the Crown had pressured or threatened Mrs. Petty. “That is not true, milord. Mrs. Petty’s establishment is under investigation for encouraging lewd and bawdy behavior and so for disturbing the peace. She is not eligible to testify.”

Grainger sustained the objection.

Jones persisted as though the objection had not been raised. “I have it from Mrs. Petty, from her daughter Agnes, and from their serving boy, Tim Doody, that they were obliged to give descriptions of both the accused and the missing members. Under duress, I should note. Yet King’s Counsel has not seen fit to read these descriptions in court, nor to my knowledge cause them to be a matter of record. I would like to see them myself. I ask King’s Counsel to explain to the court the reason for this unusual oversight.”

Parrot rose once again to object. Grainger overruled him, for he, too, was curious about the omission. Parrot said, “The descriptions obtained from those persons are not relevant to the Crown’s case, milord. The Society has been exposed, and its key members named and arrested. The Crown is satisfied with what persons it was able to lay hands on. That is all the Crown is obliged to say on that matter.”

Jones wondered if the black man in the rear of the courtroom matched one of the descriptions. Parrot and his junior counsel had not looked much at the spectators, and probably had not yet noticed him.

Jones turned to Grainger. “Milord, before I conclude my arguments, I beg the court’s permission to review the affidavits presented by King’s Counsel.”

“Certainly,” answered Grainger. “But all you will read are the sworn statements of the witnesses, who overheard the most imbenign remarks made by the accused about His Majesty, our Church, and even common Christian decency.”

“Still, milord, I wish to review them, if only to know who accuses my clients.”

Grainger sniffed in superiority. “The affidavits do not accuse, Counselor. They merely attest. The prisoners know who accuses them. It is the Crown.” He paused. “I have read the affidavits, and must assure you that if you are searching for something amiss, you will not find it. Those statements
heard by the signatories in the Fruit Wench are linked to statements in the Society’s minutes and those which appeared on the poster, and have been clearly marked by King’s Counsel.”

“I am certain they have been, milord,” replied Jones with irony.

Grainger recessed the court for two hours. Jones signed a receipt for the affidavits and for the ledger of minutes, and promised not to remove them from the courtroom. The chamber was emptied, and the prisoners taken back to the anteroom for the duration of the recess. The only persons left in it were Jones, his junior counsel, Mr. Bucks, and a bailiff who remained to ensure that no one absconded with the documents.

*  *  *

When the court reconvened, Jones noticed that the black man was absent. He had heeded the warning. Jones was certain now that the mysterious stranger was one of the missing Pippins.

He, his junior counsel, and the solicitor, Mr. Bucks, had waded into the affidavits, and indeed confirmed that nothing was amiss in them. Everything was in order—in too perfect order. Many of the statements were apparently taken down by a clerk verbatim; these he did not doubt the authenticity of. Five of the affidavits, however, were written in too perfect language, and signed by men and women whose professions were “chandler,” “publican,” or “seamstress.” And he recognized the names of three of the signatories.

He approached the bench with a grim set to his face. “Milord, the defense thanks the court for allowing me to peruse the affidavits and the Society’s minutes. I must commend King’s Counsel for the care with which he has prepared his case.” He laid special stress on the word “prepared,” as though he wished to say “fixed.” Grainger narrowed his eyes at this, and looked innocently away. “However, three of the signatories are the names of persons I have encountered in past cases, and I know them to be men of ticklish, if not doubtful, veracity.” He glanced at Parrot. “I mention this only to advise King’s Counsel that, in this respect, he has not been careful enough.” He turned back to address Grainger. “I wish, therefore, to call these persons so that they may repeat their statements for the benefit of the court.”

Grainger threw another disgusted look at Parrot, and then addressed Jones. “Fortunately, Counselor, you were wise enough not to utter the
names of these persons here. But you are again imputing that the Crown and King’s Counsel have stooped to bribery or other illegal practices, and thus you yourself are verging on slandering the Crown. On that account, permission is denied.”

“Then, milord, I beg permission to examine those persons whom I do not suspect of perjury.”

Grainger shook his head. “King’s Counsel has waived the privilege of calling witnesses, Counselor. In all fairness, I must deny the defense side the same privilege. Defense was permitted to call witnesses to the character of the accused, and that was done from a sense of mercy.”

Jones had expected it. This, then, was the beginning of the end. He could only hope now that he had damaged the Crown’s case enough in the minds of the jury, and given the six men great pause for thought and doubt. Grainger sat waiting for him to speak. “I shall now present my closing arguments, milord.”

Grainger sat back to listen. “No more histrionics, please, Counselor, or I shall rule you out of order.”

Jones faced the jury, and deliberately held for a moment the glance of each man in it. Then he smiled. “There you have it, gentlemen. The Crown, represented by the able King’s Counsel, has presented you with a fine conundrum with which to wrestle! It has proven beyond doubt that the statements on the infamous poster are but crude versions of statements recorded in the Society’s minutes. Their relationship is undeniable. Bear in mind, however, that this is all King’s Counsel has proven.”

Jones pointed to the five men standing in the dock. “There stand the accused, who admit—not confess, mind you—admit to being authors of many of the statements found in the minutes. Yet, it is not proven by the Crown that these men authored the statements on the poster. The accused deny authorship of those same said statements. They do not know who wrote them. King’s Counsel does not know who wrote them. I do not know who wrote them. I have argued from the likelihood that one of the missing members of the Society authored them, for reasons and motives unknown to anyone here today. The accused, most of all, remain ignorant of the reasons and motives, for they inform me that, to their knowledge, no man in that Society bore his brothers ill will.

“However, rude inference rules that one of their number turned Judas, and resorted to the power of the Crown as a means of venting his reprobation. Thus the late Marquis of Bilbury came into possession of a private
document, the meeting minutes, and for his own questionable reasons filed a suit against the Society. One or another of these parties informed the authorities where and when the Society could be arrested. Without those meeting minutes, may I point out, the Crown would have no arguments. That underhanded commerce was the only way the Crown could have even gained knowledge of the Society.”

Jones paused. “I argue that the Society not once, in its forty-year life, ever contemplated active disloyalty or revolt against His Majesty, the Church, or Parliament; not once engaged in organizing protests against the Crown, its policies, or institutions. The Society’s members have themselves, in fact, been victims of organized protests as a result of Crown policies. Mr. Brashears’ wife was last year stripped nearly naked by a mob of silkweavers protesting the importation of French silk, on the street outside her home. Mr. Mendoza, a lapsed Jew, two years ago nearly had his shop burned to the ground by intolerant Christians celebrating the repeal of the Jewish Naturalization Act.”

Jones pointed to the prisoners again. “There are men who were in regular correspondence, not with this nation’s enemies, but with the brightest lights in Europe, with philosophers and scientists and men of letters—men who are persecuted by their own governments, and who envy an Englishman his liberty! Are we to emulate the French now, and punish Englishmen for their private perorations? If we do, gentlemen, then we cannot but turn this nation, in time, into an island prison!”

Jones paused to study the jurymen’s faces again. “The Crown rightly claims that the statements on the poster are offensive and tend to incite revolt. I concur wholeheartedly with that claim. The statements are vile and odious, and test my own endurance and practiced toleration. Yet”—Jones raised a finger high in the air—“the Crown is wrong, for it has not proved that the accused authored them! The Crown has produced no witnesses who saw any of the accused put up the poster. No copies of the poster were found on their persons, or in their homes or shops. The Crown cannot even identify the printer of the poster. In sum, the Crown has established no irrefutable link between the accused and that cursed poster. All the Crown has proven is that the accused unwittingly provided some knavish coward the material and opportunity with which to concoct a premeditated, fearful, and malign plagiarism!”