The Case and Exceptions Part 23

"O, Mr. Duncan--it's him."

"Who?"

"Jack--there--my son." She glanced toward the prisoner.

Gordon motioned toward the door and they pa.s.sed out together into the Rotunda.

"O, Mr. Duncan, can you save him?--You will, won't you, dearie? He's my only boy! Indeed, indeed, he's not guilty for all he's been a wild lad at times. O, why do they say he's Red Farrell, or some such man? O please tell them, Mr. Duncan."

And then the story came out with a burst of tears which the Rotunda saw and heard without any emotion whatsoever. It has witnessed so many tears--that Rotunda--heard so many, many stories.

Before Court adjourned Gordon found himself committed to aid in the defence of John Winter--his first criminal case. By evening he was working enthusiastically, confident in the innocence of his client.

Winter was a stupid fellow and impossible as a witness, but this only further convinced his new counsel, who believed a bad witness could not be a good liar. But the defence had been poorly prepared at the hands of the attorney a.s.signed by the Court. Proper witnesses had not been subpoenaed--details had been neglected, while the prosecution seemed unusually keen. This last fact worried and puzzled Gordon more than all the others, and finally started him out on a tour of personal investigation.

When he returned he had learned enough to make him admit that with the time at his command there was small hope of clearing his man from the closely pressed charge.

One chance, however, remained--to see the a.s.sistant District Attorney and obtain an adjournment. But to beg a favour from that source was gall and wormwood to Gordon. Moreover, what he had discovered was not calculated to cool his hot head or make him more diplomatic. So the mission did not promise well, and he had about determined not to attempt it, when the look of despair and mute appeal in Margaret's face made him reconsider, and drove him late at night to visit a man he would have gone miles to avoid.

The a.s.sistant District Attorney was the opposite of Gordon in every way--smooth, politic, even tempered, and ambitious to drop the word "a.s.sistant" from his t.i.tle. This, it was rumoured, he would do at the next election. In an encounter between these two men it was not difficult to foresee with whom would rest the advantage.

Willard welcomed Gordon to his study and opened with easy commonplaces.

But Gordon, hopelessly fanatic and stiff-necked in his honesty, disdained the aid of conventions and pushed directly to his point.

"Mr. Willard, you are prosecuting a young man--John Winter by name----"

"Ah yes, I thought I saw you at the trial to-day, but didn't know you practised in the Criminal Courts. Yes,--John Winter, alias Red Farrell."

"I do not think so and that is why I am here. This young man is the son of Margaret Winter, an old family servant of ours on whose word I would stake my life. I have examined the prisoner and some of the witnesses, and am sure a mistake is being made and that I can prove the man's innocence."

"Well, I shall at least have the satisfaction of being beaten by a worthy adversary. But you didn't come here merely to throw down the gauntlet, Mr. Gordon."

The District Attorney smiled inquiringly at his visitor.

"No, Sir. I want you to withdraw a juror in this case and consent to a mistrial. Meanwhile we can both make further investigations and the cause of Justice will not suffer."

If the speaker had asked for his head, Willard's face could not have expressed more absolute amazement. He stared in silence for a moment--then checked a sudden inclination to laugh and answered calmly enough:

"Of course you have not practised very extensively in the Criminal Courts, Mr. Gordon, or you would know that what you ask is really absurd."

The expression was unfortunate and Gordon blazed up instantly.

"I see nothing absurd about it, Sir. I ask you for time to ascertain this man's guilt or his innocence which cannot now be properly determined.--Do you mind telling me just why this seems absurd to the District Attorney?"

The speaker's tone and manner would have nettled a man less on his guard, but Willard only laughed pleasantly as he answered:

"The District Attorney's office is satisfied to proceed, and you will admit the case must be fairly strong when we are undaunted by the presence of distinguished counsel."

"This is no matter for jests, Mr. Willard. Do you consider that the duty of the District Attorney is to convict as many persons as possible--to win as many cases as you can?"

"O come, come, Mr. Gordon, we are not here to discuss ethical questions."

"Mr. Willard, I am not here to be trifled with or side-tracked. Will you tell me what investigations you have made to ascertain if this man is innocent or not?"

The District Attorney leaned back wearily in his chair and gazed at the earnest face confronting him. Then he lazily reached for a cigarette.

"I am trying to keep my temper and be polite," he replied, "but you surely do not expect me to detail my case to my adversary?"

"Your case? Is that how you term the solemn duty you are charged with?

Does the District Attorney condescend to tricks--does he hope to make convictions by surprise?"

Willard struck a match angrily, but he applied it to the cigarette in his mouth before he answered:

"Red Farrell must pay you a good fee, Mr. Gordon, to make this worth your while."

For a moment Gordon was the cooler man of the two.

"Is it not the duty of the District Attorney to ascertain the truth?" he asked as though the other had not spoken. "Are you, a public officer, interested in withholding any part of the truth? Have you anything to conceal?"

"Mr. Gordon, I do not propose to listen to these insinuations----"

"Let us cease bantering then, Mr. Willard. I am ready to talk plainly.

Must I?"

"You must indeed, unless you wish me to interpret for myself."

He flicked the ashes from his cigarette and glanced with a bored expression toward the clock.

But Gordon did not speak until Willard's eyes met his again.

"Very well then. I will see that you understand. The police have been hunting a man called Red Farrell, but they have not been successful. The Chief has blamed the Captains--the Captains the detectives, and the papers have ridiculed them all. The police of other cities too have twitted them about it. Suddenly this young man is arrested under suspicious circ.u.mstances. No one seems particularly interested in him or knows much about him. Why shouldn't he be Red Farrell? He is Red Farrell. Do you understand me?"

"I hear you making a very nasty and uncalled-for charge against the police of this City and----"

"One that you well know has both foundation and precedent. You know the men who compose the force. So do I. They have the same pride and ambition and morals that other men have. No more and no less. They discover Red Farrell and remove a reproach. Suppose Winter isn't Farrell--well, he's probably guilty anyhow. _They want to win cases too!_"

"Mr. Gordon, you have said about enough----"

"To persuade you that this is a proper case for further investigation?"

"No, Sir, and I will tell you right now that this case will not be adjourned for one hour!"

Gordon rose to his feet and faced his opponent, wording his question slowly and with deliberate emphasis.

"Of course you personally have no special interest in convicting this particular prisoner?"

Willard sprang from his seat and angrily tossed his cigarette into the fire.

"Mr. Gordon, take care you do not go too far."