The Accused, Harold R. Daniels [read out loud books txt] 📗

think I will let you continue, Mr. Gurney. Please be more careful in the manner in which you elicit testimony.

Gurney: Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Martin, what was the result of Louise Morlock’s drinking?

Martin: Her conduct became embarrassing. I had been trying to carry on a conversation with her—out of politeness. She had very little to say. When I tried to draw her out, she became quieter—that was at first—and hardly spoke at all.

Gurney: Was the accused visibly affected by her conduct—this withdrawal, this refusal even to carry on a conversation?

Martin: Oh, yes. He seemed annoyed at first. The situation was awkward. I finally tried to steer the conversation around to something that would at least be of interest to Morlock and myself. He was, well—sullen would be the word for it. I supposed that he was embarrassed about his wife’s behavior.

*

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts vs. Alvin Morlock. Direct testimony of Paul Martin.

On the afternoon of the Sunday he first revisited Abram’s Rock, Morlock returned Dodson’s car and went home to find Louise up and dressed and making motions at straightening up the house, which she sometimes did following her nights out with Anna Carofano. “Lolly,” he said, “I’ve got to have a talk with you.” She glanced at him and returned to her dusting. “I’m here,” she said. “I’d like you to sit down, Lolly. This is important.”

“All right. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks.” He sat down at the kitchen table. “The Dean had a letter from the appliance company last week, asking him to make me take care of our account.”

She started to speak and Morlock shook his head.

“Don’t lie about it, Lolly. I’ve already talked to them. There hasn’t been any mistake. You haven’t paid the bill. Do you have any of the money put away?”

“No.”

Morlock continued quietly, “We can’t go on the way we’re going, Lolly. I’ve borrowed enough money to bring us up to date. I’d better handle the money from now on. Do you mind telling me what you did with it?” When she did not immediately answer he continued, “Let it go. We can’t do anything about it now, anyway. I’ve been thinking, Lolly. Maybe part of all this is my fault. I do bring home a lot of work and we haven’t had friends in.”

She was quick to seize the initiative. “Because you think I’m not good enough for them. I know all about that.”

“I’m going to ask Paul Martin to dinner,” he said. “I’ve told you about him.” He had several times mentioned to Martin that he would like to have him out for dinner some evening, being careful to make the remark indefinite enough not to suggest an immediate acceptance. Now, he decided, he would ask Martin to come—the following evening, in fact. If Martin was snooty about the tenement or Lolly that was just too bad.

He asked Martin the following morning. “Paul,” he said when he met Martin in the hall, “Louise and I would like to have you come to dinner tonight if you aren’t busy.” He was both relieved and worried when Martin, even though somewhat condescendingly, accepted.

Morlock left the college as early as he could that afternoon. He hurried home in some anxiety, fearful that Lolly might not be all right. He had come to measure her by this standard—she was all right and had not been drinking, or she was not all right. Her all-right evenings were becoming increasingly rare. She had become more and more excited over the prospect of Martin’s visit, rousing from the sulking mood that she had adopted when Morlock had taken the handling of family money from her.

She actually had the house cleaned up when Morlock arrived. She had scrubbed the kitchen, where they must necessarily eat, and borrowed curtains somewhere. She greeted him gaily. “You’re home early, Al. How does it look?”

He answered enthusiastically, “Fine. Lovely,” feeling that she was as eager as he to make something of this fresh start-, as willing as he to contribute more than a fair share toward its success.

They had decided upon veal cutlets for the main course. There would be wine with the meal. Morlock, when he went out to buy food for the dinner, also bought a bottle of brandy—the brandy intended to impress Martin.

Martin arrived a few minutes before seven. Morlock and Louise had been waiting for him for perhaps ten minutes. She had bathed and put on a black taffeta dress that became her very well. This, Morlock thought, is marriage. The couple you saw on the covers of the household magazines, dressed up and eagerly waiting to shower hospitality on their callers. Things would be better now and it certainly was his fault, the way Lolly had acted. Why hadn’t he done this before?

Martin knocked at the door; Morlock had given him explicit instructions about how to reach the tenement—apartment, he had called it—and Morlock rushed forward to open it.

“Good evening,” Martin said, shrugging out of his topcoat. He glanced about him as he did so, and Morlock watched him anxiously. He had intimated to Martin that the place was laughably Bohemian. “Third floor, you know, and a smell of cooking cabbage eternally in the halls.” Now he fretted over whether Martin would keep up the pretense that the tenement was truly Bohemian and not just sordid. Martin was noncommittal. “Quite a place you have here,” he continued. So hard to find a decent rent,” Morlock murmured.

“Lolly, this is Mr. Martin. He’s the chemistry instructor at the college. Sit down, won’t you, Paul, I’ll mix a drink.”

Lolly smiled and admitted that she had heard a great deal about Mr. Martin and that she was pleased and she would have one too, please, Al. Morlock went to the kitchen and mixed drinks, making Lolly’s very weak. When he brought them in Martin was seated, talking to Lolly.

“I was surprised that Alvin married,” he said. “I’d thought he was a confirmed bachelor like myself.” His tone indicated that he was quite satisfied to remain single. “Did he struggle much?”

Fine, Morlock thought. They were going to get along. Paul wasn’t going to be patronizing.

Morlock made a second round of drinks, leaving Lolly out, while she cooked the supper. When it was ready they sat at the kitchen table to eat, Morlock watching Martin anxiously to see if he liked the food. Apparently he did. He ate hungrily and had several glasses of red wine. Near the end of the meal he said, “I’m very fond of Italian cooking. You are Italian, aren’t you, Mrs. Morlock?”

“My people were,” she explained.

“From Providence,” Morlock added. “They’re in the construction field.”

Martin nodded. “I see. What school did you go to, Mrs. Morlock?”

Martin was referring to college, using the casual “school” in the affected manner of an educational snob. Morlock knew this, and tried to guess if Martin was deliberately being sarcastic.

Completely misunderstanding, Lolly said, “Gordon High—but I never finished. I had to stay home and take care of my father.” The explanation sounded ridiculously contrived—a line from_ East Lynn_ or_ Over the Hill—_Morlock hurriedly suggested that they go into the living room for brandy, trying to create the impression that this was a nightly habit in this household. Lolly stayed in the kitchen to clear off the dishes. By the time she rejoined them, Martin had had two brandies and was becoming increasingly expansive. He rose when she came into the room.

“We were talking about your husband’s favorite subject,” he explained. “I’ve been telling him that the Bacon myth might not be as much a fantasy as he believes.” Morlock had more than once suspected that Martin’s own knowledge of literature was superficial, consisting of a few catchwords and stock phrases. He had accused himself uneasily, on those occasions, of being disloyal. Martin continued, “Are you a great reader, Mrs. Morlock?”

She had seated herself in the chair opposite the couch where the two men sat. Morlock brought her a drink—a small brandy. She apologized that she didn’t really read very much.

Martin held out his empty glass to Morlock and expertly switched the conversation to hypnotism. “You’ve been reading about the reversion techniques, I suppose?”

She had not been following them too closely, she explained.

It became a nightmare. Morlock was at first grateful to Martin for trying to find a subject in which Lolly would feel at ease. After the third or fourth change of subject he realized that Martin was probing and exposing, deliberately humiliating her. She knew nothing of the ballet, of history, or of painting. She knew, it appeared, very little about anything.

Morlock could see what Martin was doing but he was helpless to prevent it. His immediate reaction was anger that Martin should so needlessly spoil his little party. His second reaction was one of pity for Louise who was by this time, numbly shaking her head to most of Martin’s questions. He was embarrassed for her rather than ashamed of her, and he tried several times to rescue her. When Martin persisted in his probing, Morlock began to hate him for his cruelty, but before his emotions overcame his good manners Martin contemptuously discarded Louise. He began a discussion of college affairs with Morlock in which Louise could have no possible interest. After a while she excused herself and went out to the kitchen. Morlock, preoccupied with concern for Louise and thoroughly disliking Martin by this time, contributed very little to the conversation.

*

Liebman: You testified on direct examination that Louise Morlock’s conduct became embarrassing on the night of your visit to Morlock’s home.

Martin: I did.

Liebman: To digress a moment, Mr. Martin, are you a British citizen?

Martin: Certainly not.

Liebman: Educated in Britain?

Gurney: Your Honor, the nationality and educational background of the witness can have no possible bearing on this matter.

Liebman: I’d like to point out that counsel for the prosecution has made a point of establishing the educational background of previous witnesses as well as the accused. By the rules of evidence it becomes my prerogative—

Cameron: You need not continue, Mr. Liebman. Since the prosecution has elicited testimony as to educational background on direct examination, you have the privilege of rebuttal in kind.

Liebman: Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Martin, you state that you are not a British citizen and that you were not educated in Great Britain. Yet I have detected a strong British flavor in your speech. Where did you get the accent, Mr. Martin—is it an affectation?

Gurney: Objection. The character of the witness cannot be assailed on such a flimsy basis.

Cameron: Sustained. Mr. Liebman’s final remark will be stricken.

Liebman: Your Honor, I am questioning the credibility of the witness. It appears to me that any man contemptible enough to disclaim a friendship and cheap enough to affect an accent—

Cameron: That will do, Mr. Liebman.

Liebman: Mr. Martin, where did you actually go to college?

Martin: Canton, Ohio.

Liebman: Did you ever travel abroad?

Cameron: The witness will speak up.

Martin: No.

Liebman: On the night of your visit to Morlock’s home did you drink any alcoholic beverages yourself?

Martin: Yes. Brandy. And wine with dinner.

Liebman: You don’t suppose your own conduct might have been affected?

Gurney: Objection.

Cameron: Sustained.

Liebman: Mr. Martin, when the conduct of the deceased woman became embarrassing, what was the reaction of the accused?

Martin: Well, naturally I left early. Morlock walked down the stairs with me. He was bitterly angry.

*

The Commonwealth of Massachusetts vs. Alvin Morlock. Cross-examination of Paul Martin.

Morlock paid little attention to Lolly’s absence in the kitchen. She returned after a few moments only to go back to the kitchen again after listening