In fact, only three years before, in a contest with Mason for the district attorneyship, this same Belknap had run closer to victory than any other candidate on the Democratic ticket.
Indeed, so rounded a man was he politically that this year he had been slated for that very county judgeship nomination which Mason had in view.
And but for this sudden and most amazing development in connection with Clyde, it had been quite generally assumed that Belknap, once nominated, would be elected.
And although Mr. Kellogg did not quite trouble to explain to Catchuman all the complicated details of this very interesting political situation, he did explain that Mr. Belknap was a very exceptional man, almost the ideal one, if one were looking for an opponent to Mason.
And with this slight introduction, Kellogg now offered personally to conduct Catchuman to Belknap and Jephson’s office, just across the way in the Bowers Block.
And then knocking at Belknap’s door, they were admitted by a brisk, medium-sized and most engaging-looking man of about forty-eight, whose gray-blue eyes at once fixed themselves in the mind of Catchuman as the psychic windows of a decidedly shrewd if not altogether masterful and broad-gauge man.
For Belknap was inclined to carry himself with an air which all were inclined to respect.
He was a college graduate, and in his youth because of his looks, his means, and his local social position (his father had been a judge as well as a national senator from here), he had seen so much of what might be called near-city life that all those gaucheries as well as sex-inhibitions and sex-longings which still so greatly troubled and motivated and even marked a man like Mason had long since been covered with an easy manner and social understanding which made him fairly capable of grasping any reasonable moral or social complication which life was prepared to offer.
Indeed he was one who naturally would approach a case such as Clyde’s with less vehemence and fever than did Mason.
For once, in his twentieth year, he himself had been trapped between two girls, with one of whom he was merely playing while being seriously in love with the other.
And having seduced the first and being confronted with an engagement or flight, he had chosen flight.
But not before laying the matter before his father, by whom he was advised to take a vacation, during which time the services of the family doctor were engaged with the result that for a thousand dollars and expenses necessary to house the pregnant girl in Utica, the father had finally extricated his son and made possible his return, and eventual marriage to the other girl.
And therefore, while by no means sympathizing with the more cruel and drastic phases of Clyde’s attempt at escape — as so far charged (never in all the years of his law practice had he been able to grasp the psychology of a murderer) still because of the rumored existence and love influence of a rich girl whose name had not as yet been divulged he was inclined to suspect that Clyde had been emotionally betrayed or bewitched.
Was he not poor and vain and ambitious?
He had heard so: had even been thinking that he — the local political situation being what it was might advantageously to himself — and perhaps most disruptingly to the dreams of Mr. Mason be able to construct a defense — or at least a series of legal contentions and delays which might make it not so easy for Mr. Mason to walk away with the county judgeship as he imagined.
Might it not, by brisk, legal moves now — and even in the face of this rising public sentiment, or because of it — be possible to ask for a change of venue — or time to develop new evidence in which case a trial might not occur before Mr. Mason was out of office.
He and his young and somewhat new associate, Mr. Reuben Jephson, of quite recently the state of Vermont, had been thinking of it.
And now Mr. Catchuman accompanied by Mr. Kellogg.
And thereupon a conference with Mr. Catchuman and Mr. Kellogg, with the latter arguing quite politically the wisdom of his undertaking such a defense.
And his own interest in the case being what it was, he was not long in deciding, after a conference with his younger associate, that he would.
In the long run it could not possibly injure him politically, however the public might feel about it now.
And then Catchuman having handed over a retainer to Belknap as well as a letter introducing him to Clyde, Belknap had Jephson call up Mason to inform him that Belknap & Jephson, as counsel for Samuel Griffiths on behalf of his nephew, would require of him a detailed written report of all the charges as well as all the evidence thus far accumulated, the minutes of the autopsy and the report of the coroner’s inquest.
Also information as to whether any appeal for a special term of the Supreme Court had as yet been acted upon, and if so what judge had been named to sit, and when and where the Grand Jury would be gathered.
Incidentally, he said, Messrs. Belknap and Jephson, having heard that Miss Alden’s body had been sent to her home for burial, would request at once a counsel’s agreement whereby it might be exhumed in order that other doctors now to be called by the defense might be permitted to examine it — a proposition which Mason at once sought to oppose but finally agreed to rather than submit to an order from a Supreme Court judge.
These details having been settled, Belknap announced that he was going over to the jail to see Clyde.
It was late and he had had no dinner, and might get none now, but he wanted to have a “heart to heart” with this youth, whom Catchuman informed him he would find very difficult.
But Belknap, buoyed up as he was by his opposition to Mason, his conviction that he was in a good mental state to understand Clyde, was in a high degree of legal curiosity.
The romance and drama of this crime!
What sort of a girl was this Sondra Finchley, of whom he had already heard through secret channels?
And could she by any chance be brought to Clyde’s defense?
He had already understood that her name was not to be mentioned — high politics demanding this.
He was really most eager to talk to this sly and ambitious and futile youth.
However, on reaching the jail, and after showing Sheriff Slack a letter from Catchuman and asking as a special favor to himself that he be taken upstairs to some place near Clyde’s cell in order that, unannounced, he might first observe Clyde, he was quietly led to the second floor and, the outside door leading to the corridor which faced Clyde’s cell being opened for him, allowed to enter there alone.
And then walking to within a few feet of Clyde’s cell he was able to view him — at the moment lying face down on his iron cot, his arms above his head, a tray of untouched food standing in the aperture, his body sprawled and limp.
For, since Catchuman’s departure, and his second failure to convince any one of his futile and meaningless lies, he was more despondent than ever.
In fact, so low was his condition that he was actually crying, his shoulders heaving above his silent emotion.
At sight of this, and remembering his own youthful escapades, Belknap now felt intensely sorry for him.
No soulless murderer, as he saw it, would cry.
Approaching Clyde’s cell door, after a pause, he began with:
“Come, come, Clyde!
This will never do.
You mustn’t give up like this.
Your case mayn’t be as hopeless as you think.
Wouldn’t you like to sit up and talk to a lawyer fellow who thinks he might be able to do something for you?
Belknap is my name — Alvin Belknap.
I live right here in Bridgeburg and I have been sent over by that other fellow who was here a while ago — Catchuman, wasn’t that his name?
You didn’t get along with him so very well, did you?
Well, I didn’t either.
He’s not our kind, I guess.
But here’s a letter from him authorizing me to represent you.