If I Die Before I Wake Page 11

  ‘Is this the bullet? The fatal bullet with which Lee Grisby was killed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank you, Dr Colbert. That is all.’ He looked at the judge. ‘If Your Honor please, I should like the Court to order the State to produce this bullet for introduction in evidence at the time of the presentation by the defense.’

  Judge Ditchburne looked puzzled, too.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, after glancing at Galloway. ‘It will be so marked.’

  Bannister nodded to the medical examiner and sat down.

  ‘What’s the idea?’ I asked. ‘Are you going to try to prove I didn’t shoot him, after all?’

  ‘Oh, no. The trick is to establish a reasonable doubt in the minds of the jury that you might have done it purposely. I want to be able to show that the gun found in the car doesn’t match with the bullet taken from Grisby. It won’t prove that you didn’t have another gun, but it will prove that the District Attorney’s case isn’t as air-tight as he’ll try to make the jury believe. If it isn’t air-tight, there’s a reasonable doubt. That’s all.’

  Galloway next read the confession I had made. It had been reworded, with a lot of technical language, to make it hold up in court, but it still said that I had shot Grisby accidentally and then dumped him into the Sound. We had tried to change this to read that I had left him on the beach, but the best they’d do was to put it into a second confession.

  The jurors were so interested they sat with their mouths open, listening to every word.

  After he’d read the first confession, Galloway called a policeman to the stand. His name was Peters. He was from the Old Slip Station down near Wall Street, and he had found the body.

  ‘You were on duty at the foot of Wall Street on the night of August twelfth?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Tell the jury, please, exactly what you saw and heard.’

  ‘It was twenty minutes after eleven. The street was deserted. I was down at the South Street end looking around the Skyport when I saw a body stretched out on the pavement. I ran over and saw that it was Mr Grisby, of the law firm of Bannister and Grisby.’

  A buzz went up. Everyone turned to look at Bannister, to see if he was the same one. The jurors were all whispering back and forth.

  ‘Continue, please,’ said Galloway. ‘What did you do then?’

  ‘Without touching the body, except to see that he was dead – there was a pool of blood under him that was still wet – I turned in the report and told the night man in Mr Grisby’s office building, right up the street, what had happened. He identified him, too, and then went back to get Mr Bannister, who was waiting for him up in their office. Mr Bannister came right down and we all stood and waited for the Homicide men to get there.’

  ‘All right. Now a few questions, please. You say that you discovered the body at 11:20 P. M. How long before that had you been in the vicinity?’

  ‘I turned into the street at eleven-ten.’

  ‘You saw nothing out of the way? You heard nothing?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Did any cars pass you on the street?’

  ‘On Wall Street? No, sir.’

  ‘And you heard no shot?’

  ‘No, sir. The street was very quiet.’

  Galloway turned to the jury, then back to the witness.

  ‘Let me make sure I understand that. You say that you heard no shot. Yet, from the condition of the blood, which you have testified was still wet when you came upon the body, Lee Grisby had been dead only a short time. So we know that death must have come on Wall Street, but not, it would appear, from a shot fired on Wall Street, or you would have heard it. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘Objection!’ said Bannister. ‘The shot might have been fired before the officer came within hearing distance and Mr Grisby still be dead only a short time, or the murderer might have used a silencer.’

  ‘Mr Bannister is correct,’ said the judge. ‘No definite conclusion can be drawn from the fact that the officer heard no shot. Strike the District Attorney’s remarks from the record.’

  Galloway stretched out his arms, palms out in a pleading gesture.

  ‘But, Your Honor – the fact that no shot was heard simply bears out the statement made by the defendant himself, in his confession, that Mr Grisby was actually shot some distance away – in fact, on the beach. But we will return to that later. Right now we will continue with the officer’s testimony, as he is anxious to get home to his wife and family before he returns to duty.’

  Peters looked at him and started to say something, but Galloway rushed right on. His idea was to get the jury sore at Bannister if he took up a lot of time in cross-examination, and he didn’t want Peters spoiling it.

  ‘Now we come to a very important point, Mr Peters. Please tell the jury the condition of Mr Grisby’s clothes at the moment you came upon the body.’

  ‘Why, they seemed to be in good condition, except for the blood, of course.’

  ‘Were they wet or dry?’

  ‘Oh, I see what you mean. They were dry.’

  ‘Dry!’ Galloway whirled around. ‘Dry! Yet the defendant said in his confession that he had thrown the body into the Sound!’

  ‘I object!’ said Bannister.

  ‘Grounds?’

  ‘On the grounds that a subsequent confession made by my client withdraws the statement that the body was thrown into the Sound. The District Attorney, it seems to me, is taking unfair advantage of a situation which he knows has been rectified.’

  ‘Objection sustained,’ the judge said. ‘The District Attorney’s last remark will also be stricken from the record.’

  Galloway shrugged. He looked at the jury to make sure they’d got it, anyway. They had.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘The fact remains that the clothes were dry. Now, Mr Peters, was there anything else that struck you at the time of the discovery of the body?’

  ‘Yes, sir, there was something. Mr Grisby was lying face down, with his arms thrown out. His hat had rolled to one side. But in his right hand was a cap – held so tight that the Homicide men had a hard time getting it loose when they came.’

  ‘What kind of cap?’

  Peters wet his lips and looked at me.

  ‘A chauffeur’s cap,’ he said.

  Galloway went to the table and snatched up the cap Grisby had taken from me when he’d dashed for the boat.

  ‘Is this it?’ he asked.

  ‘It looks like it.’

  Galloway turned, waving the cap.

  ‘Think of it!’ he said. ‘Here is a man mortally wounded – struck down in the prime of life, yet with the quickness and brilliance of thought that characterized his whole career at the bar, snatching the evidence that would send his murderer to the chair! So that a competent jury, sitting in trial upon that murderer, might avenge his death without the slightest fear of error or of possible miscarriage of justice. Watch!’

  He came over and slapped the cap on my head, tight.

  ‘Objection!’ shouted Bannister. He got to his feet so quickly he wrenched his game leg. Pain shot through his face. He grabbed the table and held on.

  ‘Of course defense counsel objects,’ said Galloway. ‘The cap fits!’

  ‘I object to the tactics employed by the District Attorney,’ Bannister snapped. ‘He is supposed to be conducting a direct examination; his opportunity to sum up will come later. Besides, such dramatics are entirely unnecessary. The defense has never denied that the cap in question belonged to the defendant. But to say that it is the defendant’s because it fits is ridiculous. The cap is of standard size. It could fit ten million others as easily. I ask that the District Attorney’s conclusions be stricken from the record as being ill-timed, unfounded, and immaterial.’

  ‘Objection overruled,’ said Judge Ditchburne. ‘The evidence, I should say, is material. But I must caution the Di
strict Attorney to confine himself, until such time as he is ready for his summation, to direct examination.’

  Galloway shrugged.

  ‘I offer this cap in evidence as Exhibit A,’ he said, yanking it off. ‘It is not only highly material, but as I shall attempt to show, it is positive proof that we have here no mere case of accidental shooting, as the defense would like us to believe, and as attested to in the defendant’s confession, but an out-and-out case of first degree murder.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ I yelled. ‘I—’

  Bannister put a hand on my arm and kept me down.

  ‘Let him finish,’ he said. ‘Our turn will come later.’

  ‘Will you put me on the stand?’

  ‘No, I can’t do that – it would give him just the chance he wants to cross-examine you. But don’t worry; it won’t be necessary.’

  Galloway turned to Peters, who was twisting his own cap around.

  ‘That’s all,’ he said. ‘Your witness, Mr Bannister.’

  Bannister stood up slowly, thinking.

  ‘No questions – except, yes. One.’ He looked at Peters, who was half way out of the chair. ‘Of course I don’t want to keep you from your wife and children, any more than the District Attorney, who was so concerned about them a moment ago. But I would like to ask one question. Have you a wife and children, Mr Peters?’

  ‘Well—’

  Peters looked at Galloway. Then he started to smile.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  A laugh went up all over the courtroom. Judge Ditchburne banged his gavel. Galloway got red, but tried to shrug it off.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Bannister to Peters. ‘You may step down.’

  He looked at Galloway and came back and sat beside me, smiling. You could still hear people laughing.

  ‘All right!’ said Galloway. ‘This is a very serious occasion for the State, even if it doesn’t seem important or worthy of serious conduct by the defense. Perhaps Mr Bannister realizes the futility of his case. Or perhaps he is bored with the proceedings. Well, we will make things more interesting from now on. Our next witness is a man of unimpeachable integrity, honest, fearless and public-spirited in the extreme. Although he may be somewhat surprised at the request, I am sure he will not hesitate to testify. Call Mark Bannister!’

  ‘Mark Bannister!’ droned the crier.

  A murmur started in the courtroom, swelled to a thunder clap as the judge’s gavel hit the bench. I turned around to look at Elsa. She tried to smile, to encourage me, but she was plenty worried, I could tell. Well, I was worried, too. It looked like I didn’t have a chance. And now Galloway was even trying to put Bannister, my own lawyer, on the witness stand!

  Bannister stood up, roaring mad.

  ‘All right!’ he snapped back at Galloway. ‘I’ll take the stand!’

  ‘One moment,’ said Judge Ditchburne. ‘I think that the defendant has something to say about that.’ He looked at me. ‘I must tell you that it is within your discretion to refuse to allow defense counsel to place your case in jeopardy by exposing himself to the prosecution’s questioning – or, if he does do so, with or without your consent, to secure, or have the Court appoint, new counsel. If you care to discuss the matter before making a decision, the Court will order a brief recess. What does the defendant say?’

  Almost I missed a chance here to do something good. It was all Greek to me, the whole business, and for a minute I didn’t know what to say. But then I saw this chance, and before I knew it I said, all in one breath:

  ‘No, I don’t want any other lawyer if that’s what you mean, and I’m not afraid of having Mr Galloway ask him questions, because there’s nothing to be afraid of. I haven’t done anything.’

  I was out of breath and I knew my ears were red but I felt pretty proud of myself, all right, like you always do when you’ve said the right thing at the right time. But I was worried, don’t think I wasn’t.

  II

  Some newspaper men behind me were whispering about what was going on.

  ‘Hey, Joe! What is this? Galloway can’t make Bannister testify against his own client, can he?’

  ‘It’s a new one on me. This whole trial gets screwier and screwier every minute.’

  ‘Why, if I was Bannister, I’d have busted him one.’

  ‘I guess he doesn’t have to testify – Galloway just asked him to and he agreed.’

  ‘Well, I’m damned if I would have. Why, he’s going to be under oath! And I always thought he was smart!’

  ‘He is smart. Either he’s got something up his sleeve or he knows Galloway could make him testify, anyway, even if he refused now. And that would look bad. Don’t forget, the kid was his chauffeur. He’s not being put on the stand as his lawyer, but as his boss. I’m not sure about this – it’s just a guess. But it’s a good one, all right – a lawyer testifying in his own case, against his own client!’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a good one, all right.’

  Good, hell, where did they think I was going to come out in all this?

  Bannister clumped up to the stand. The jurors screwed up their foreheads at the funny way he walked. You could see they held it against him, somehow.

  ‘Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?’

  ‘I do.’

  Bannister got up into the chair and sat glowering down at Galloway. His face was dark, angered, his jaw set. He tried to cover up his twisted leg so it wouldn’t look so awkward. He couldn’t. It seemed to hang loose, disconnected.

  Now there wasn’t a sound in the whole courtroom.

  Galloway got Bannister’s name, address and profession, all as though he’d never seen him before.

  ‘Now, Mr Bannister,’ he said, ‘on the night of August twelfth, you were in your office down on Wall Street?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You were waiting for Mr Grisby, who had gone out to your home to get some papers. As I understand it, these papers had an important bearing on the case on which you were working? Is that true?’

  ‘Yes. He had left them out there by mistake, and suggested he go out and get them.’

  ‘At what time did you realize that Mr Grisby wasn’t coming back?’

  ‘At 11:35, when Mr Marek, the night watchman, came to tell me that Mr Grisby was lying dead out in the street. I immediately accompanied him downstairs to where Mr Grisby was lying. I identified him.’

  ‘You noticed the cap in Mr Grisby’s hand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What was your first comment on seeing the cap?’

  ‘I was surprised. I said, “It looks like my chauffeur’s. He must have driven him down here.”’

  ‘Didn’t you say also that he must have killed him?’

  ‘I said it looked as though he must have, since his cap was there and yet he himself was no longer in the vicinity.’

  ‘Didn’t you suggest that a search for him be made at once?’

  ‘Naturally. If my chauffeur were guilty, I wanted him apprehended. After all, Mr Grisby was my partner.’

  ‘Of course. You wanted to avenge his death – it was your duty, just as it is my duty. Now, not only that, but I imagine you felt a certain sense of responsibility, having hired and trusted the defendant, Laurence Planter, who later showed his gratitude by killing your own partner.’

  Bannister just looked at him.

  ‘I wonder,’ said Galloway, ‘just what you know about him to justify that trust? Surely he gave you some character references at the time you hired him?’

  ‘No. It never occurred to me to ask for them.’

  ‘How did you happen to hire him?’

  ‘I needed a new chauffeur. I had discharged the old one for drunkenness the day before Laurence Planter turned up on my beach. Laurence was looking for work. He was young and strong. He had his whole life before him.’

  ‘But didn’t
you even ask him about himself?’

  ‘I questioned him a little of course. I found that he had been a sailor and had seen much of life, but – call it innocence if you want – that he had somehow managed to keep the taint of life outside himself.’

  ‘So you hired him on faith?’

  ‘Yes – on faith.’

  ‘Well, now, Mr Bannister,’ Galloway went on, ‘you say that the defendant had no job when you hired him. He was simply drifting up and down along the Sound. In other words, he was a vagrant, wasn’t he? A charge upon society?’

  ‘He didn’t have any money, if that’s what you mean, no. At least, I assumed that he hadn’t.’

  ‘And how much did you pay him per week?’

  ‘Eighteen dollars, plus room and board.’

  ‘I see. At that rate, it would take him a good many years to save up five thousand dollars, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose it would.’

  ‘And how long was Laurence Planter in your employ before the shooting of Lee Grisby?’

  ‘About two months; I don’t recall exactly.’

  ‘He wasn’t very content in his job, was he?’

  Bannister looked pained, but he answered.

  ‘I thought he was very content.’

  ‘And then suddenly he wasn’t content! Suddenly he was preparing to leave the country – to go back to sea. I wonder if you could enlighten us on that, Mr Bannister? Why did he want to leave?’

  ‘I didn’t know he wanted to leave.’ Bannister turned to Judge Ditchburne. ‘As defense counsel, I wish to object to the District Attorney’s line of questioning. By indirection he is attempting to establish premeditation which does not exist.’

  ‘Objection sustained,’ said the judge.

  ‘Very well. To return to the night of the crime, what did you say when you came out to your home with the police and found that Laurence Planter had run away?’

  ‘I said, “That proves it. He did kill him.”’

  ‘And what did you say when the five thousand dollars was found hidden in his mattress?’

  ‘I said, “That’s the explanation. He killed him for the money.”’

  ‘You weren’t surprised, were you?’