So I didn’t hardly notice the young gentleman at all.”
The Prosecutor asked him to tell the court if he’d seen me weep.
And when Perez answered, “No,” added emphatically:
“I trust the jury will take note of this reply.”
My lawyer rose at once, and asked Perez in a tone that seemed to me needlessly aggressive:
“Now, think well, my man! Can you swear you saw he didn’t shed a tear?”
Perez answered,
“No.”
At this some people tittered, and my lawyer, pushing back one sleeve of his gown, said sternly:
“That is typical of the way this case is being conducted.
No attempt is being made to elicit the true facts.”
The Prosecutor ignored this remark; he was making dabs with his pencil on the cover of his brief, seemingly quite indifferent.
There was a break of five minutes, during which my lawyer told me the case was going very well indeed. Then Celeste was called. He was announced as a witness for the defense. The defense meant me.
Now and again Celeste threw me a glance; he kept squeezing his Panama hat between his hands as he gave evidence.
He was in his best suit, the one he wore when sometimes of a Sunday he went with me to the races.
But evidently he hadn’t been able to get his collar on; the top of his shirt, I noticed, was secured only by a brass stud.
Asked if I was one of his customers, he said,
“Yes, and a friend as well.”
Asked to state his opinion of me, he said that I was “all right” and, when told to explain what he meant by that, he replied that everyone knew what that meant.
“Was I a secretive sort of man?” “No,” he answered, “I shouldn’t call him that. But he isn’t one to waste his breath, like a lot of folks.”
The Prosecutor asked him if I always settled my monthly bill at his restaurant when he presented it.
Celeste laughed.
“Oh, he paid on the nail, all right. But the bills were just details-like, between him and me.”
Then he was asked to say what he thought about the crime.
He placed his hands on the rail of the box and one could see he had a speech all ready.
“To my mind it was just an accident, or a stroke of bad luck, if you prefer. And a thing like that takes you off your guard.”
He wanted to continue, but the Judge cut him short.
“Quite so. That’s all, thank you.”
For a bit Celeste seemed flabbergasted; then he explained that he hadn’t finished what he wanted to say.
They told him to continue, but to make it brief.
He only repeated that it was “just an accident.”
“That’s as it may be,” the Judge observed.
“But what we are here for is to try such accidents, according to law. You can stand down.”
Celeste turned and gazed at me. His eyes were moist and his lips trembling.
It was exactly as if he’d said: “Well, I’ve done my best for you, old man. I’m afraid it hasn’t helped much. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t say anything, or make any movement, but for the first time in my life I wanted to kiss a man.
The Judge repeated his order to stand down, and Celeste returned to his place amongst the crowd.
During the rest of the hearing he remained there, leaning forward, elbows on knees and his Panama between his hands, not missing a word of the proceedings.
It was Marie’s turn next.
She had a hat on and still looked quite pretty, though I much preferred her with her hair free.
From where I was I had glimpses of the soft curve of her breasts, and her underlip had the little pout that always fascinated me.
She appeared very nervous.
The first question was: How long had she known me?
Since the time when she was in our office, she replied.
Then the Judge asked her what were the relations between us, and she said she was my girl friend.
Answering another question, she admitted promising to marry me.
The Prosecutor, who had been studying a document in front of him, asked her rather sharply when our “liaison” had begun.
She gave the date.
He then observed with a would-be casual air that apparently she meant the day following my mother’s funeral.
After letting this sink in he remarked in a slightly ironic tone that obviously this was a “delicate topic” and he could enter into the young lady’s feelings, but—and here his voice grew sterner—his duty obliged him to waive considerations of delicacy.