The decision of him!
The fairness of him in such a deadly crisis!
And Gilbert equally impressed, also sitting and staring.
His father was a man, really.
He might be cruelly wounded and distressed, but, unlike himself, he was neither petty nor revengeful.
And next Mr. Darrah Brookhart, a large, well-dressed, well-fed, ponderous and cautious corporation lawyer, with one eye half concealed by a drooping lid and his stomach rather protuberant, giving one the impression of being mentally if not exactly physically suspended, balloon-wise, in some highly rarefied atmosphere where he was moved easily hither and yon by the lightest breath of previous legal interpretations or decisions of any kind.
In the absence of additional facts, the guilt of Clyde (to him) seemed obvious.
Or, waiving that, as he saw it after carefully listening to Smillie’s recounting of all the suspicious and incriminating circumstances, he would think it very difficult to construct an even partially satisfactory defense, unless there were some facts favoring Clyde which had not thus far appeared.
Those two hats, that bag — his slipping away like that.
Those letters.
But he would prefer to read them.
For upon the face of the data so far, unquestionably public sentiment would be all against Clyde and in favor of the dead girl and her poverty and her class, a situation which made a favorable verdict in such a backwoods county seat as Bridgeburg almost impossible.
For Clyde, although himself poor, was the nephew of a rich man and hitherto in good standing in Lycurgus society.
That would most certainly tend to prejudice country-born people against him.
It would probably be better to ask for a change of venue so as to nullify the force of such a prejudice.
On the other hand, without first sending a trained cross-examiner to Clyde — one, who being about to undertake the defense should be able to extract the facts from him on the plea that on his truthful answers depended his life — he would not be able to say whether there was any hope or not.
In his office was a certain Mr. Catchuman, a very able man, who might be sent on such a mission and on whose final report one could base a reasonable opinion.
However, there were now various other aspects of such a case as this which, in his estimation, needed to be carefully looked into and decided upon.
For, of course, as Mr. Griffiths and his son so well knew, in Utica, New York City, Albany (and now that he came to think of it, more particularly in Albany, where were two brothers, Canavan & Canavan, most able if dubious individuals), there were criminal lawyers deeply versed in the abstrusities and tricks of the criminal law.
And any of them — no doubt — for a sufficient retainer, and irrespective of the primary look of a situation of this kind, might be induced to undertake such a defense.
And, no doubt, via change of venue, motions, appeals, etc., they might and no doubt would be able to delay and eventually effect an ultimate verdict of something less than death, if such were the wish of the head of this very important family.
On the other hand, there was the undeniable fact that such a hotly contested trial as this would most assuredly prove to be would result in an enormous amount of publicity, and did Mr. Samuel Griffiths want that?
For again, under such circumstances, was it not likely to be said, if most unjustly, of course, that he was using his great wealth to frustrate justice?
The public was so prejudiced against wealth in such cases.
Yet, some sort of a defense on the part of the Griffiths would certainly be expected by the public, whether subsequently the same necessity for such defense was criticized by them or not.
And in consequence, it was now necessary for Mr. Griffiths and his son to decide how they would prefer to proceed — whether with very distinguished criminal lawyers such as the two he had just named, or with less forceful counsel, or none.
For, of course, it would be possible, and that quite inconspicuously, to supply Clyde with a capable and yet thoroughly conservative trial lawyer — some one residing and practising in Bridgeburg possibly — whose duty it would be to see that all blatant and unjustified reference to the family on the part of the newspapers was minimized.
And so, after three more hours of conference, it was finally decided by Samuel himself that at once Mr. Brookhart was to despatch his Mr. Catchuman to Bridgeburg to interview Clyde, and thereafter, whatever his conclusions as to his guilt or innocence, he was to select from the local array of legal talent — for the present, anyhow — such a lawyer as would best represent Clyde fairly.
Yet with no assurances of means or encouragement to do more than extract from Clyde the true details of his relationship to this charge.
And those once ascertained to center upon such a defense as would most honestly tend to establish only such facts as were honestly favorable to Clyde — in short, in no way, either by legal chicane or casuistry or trickery of any kind, to seek to establish a false innocence and so defeat the ends of justice. ? Chapter 14
M r. Catchuman did not prove by any means to be the one to extract from Clyde anything more than had either Mason or Smillie.
Although shrewd to a degree in piecing together out of the muddled statements of another such data as seemed most probable, still he was not so successful in the realm of the emotions, as was necessary in the case of Clyde.
He was too legal, chilling — unemotional.
And in consequence, after grilling Clyde for four long hours one hot July afternoon, he was eventually compelled to desist with the feeling that as a plotter of crime Clyde was probably the most arresting example of feeble and blundering incapacity he had ever met.
For since Smillie’s departure Mason had proceeded to the shores of Big Bittern with Clyde. And there discovered the tripod and camera. Also listened to more of Clyde’s lies.
And as he now explained to Catchuman that, while Clyde denied owning a camera, nevertheless he had proof that he did own one and had taken it with him when he left Lycurgus.
Yet when confronted with this fact by Catchuman, as the latter now noticed, Clyde had nothing to say other than that he had not taken a camera with him and that the tripod found was not the one belonging to any camera of his — a lie which so irritated Catchuman that he decided not to argue with him further.
At the same time, however, Brookhart having instructed him that, whatever his personal conclusions in regard to Clyde, a lawyer of sorts was indispensable — the charity, if not the honor, of the Griffiths being this much involved, the western Griffiths, as Brookhart had already explained to him, having nothing and not being wanted in the case anyhow — he decided that he must find one before leaving.
In consequence, and without any knowledge of the local political situation, he proceeded to the office of Ira Kellogg, president of the Cataraqui County National Bank, who, although Catchuman did not know it, was high in the councils of the Democratic organization.
And because of his religious and moral views, this same Kellogg was already highly incensed and irritated by the crime of which Clyde was accused.
On the other hand, however, because as he well knew this case was likely to pave the way for an additional Republican sweep at the approaching primaries, he was not blind to the fact that some reducing opposition to Mason might not be amiss.
Fate seemed too obviously to be favoring the Republican machine in the person of and crime committed by Clyde.
For since the discovery of this murder, Mason had been basking in such publicity and even nation-wide notoriety as had not befallen any district attorney of this region in years and years.
Newspaper correspondents and reporters and illustrators from such distant cities as Buffalo, Rochester, Chicago, New York and Boston, were already arriving as everybody knew or saw, to either interview or make sketches or take photos of Clyde, Mason, the surviving members of the Alden family, et cetera, while locally Mason was the recipient of undiluted praise, even the Democratic voters in the county joining with the Republicans in assuring each other that Mason was all right, that he was handling this young murderer in the way that he deserved to be handled, and that neither the wealth of the Griffiths nor of the family of that rich girl whom he appeared to have been trying to capture, was influencing this young tribune of the people in the least.
He was a real attorney.
He had not “allowed any grass to grow under his feet, you bet.”
Indeed previous to Catchuman’s visit, a coroner’s jury had been called, with Mason attending and directing even, the verdict being that the dead girl had come to her death through a plot devised and executed by one Clyde Griffiths who was then and there in the county jail of Bridgeburg and that he be held to await the verdict of the County Grand Jury to whom his crime was soon to be presented.
And Mason, through an appeal to the Governor, as all now knew was planning to secure a special sitting of the Supreme Court, which would naturally involve an immediate session of the County Grand Jury in order to hear the evidence and either indict or discharge Clyde.
And now, Catchuman arriving to inquire where he was likely to find a local lawyer of real ability who could be trusted to erect some sort of a defense for Clyde.
And immediately as an offset to all this there popped into Kellogg’s mind the name and reputation of one Hon. Alvin Belknap, of Belknap and Jephson, of this same city — an individual who had been twice state senator, three times Democratic assemblyman from this region, and more recently looked upon by various Democratic politicians as one who would be favored with higher honors as soon as it was possible to arrange an issue which would permit the Democrats to enter into local office.