“You do have a question for Mr. Cobb,I take it?” the judge said, glancing at Marc and thus missing thesmirk on Thornton’s face.
“Yes, Milord.”
“Then, please put it.”
“Constable Cobb,” Marc heard himself say,“when you showed the walking-stick to Mr. Langford at the policequarters, did he say anything else besides, ‘That’s mine’?”
“He did. He said, ‘I must’ve left it backthere in the alley.’”
Marc risked a glance at Thornton, who noddedhis appreciation. “Now, sir, let’s return to that all-importantencounter between you and Mr. Langford on Wellington Street. Inaddition to what state he was in or who saw whom first, we need toknow what words he spoke to you. Try to remember them as preciselyas you can.”
Cobb looked weary but relieved. Rememberingevents and conversations came easily to him, if he wasn’t beingconstantly interrupted and badgered. He smiled at Marc and said,“As soon as he seen it was me, he said, ‘Cobb, you gotta helpme.’”
“And then?”
“I asked him why – I knew the young fella andI could see he was anxious about somethin’. He said he’d justpunched a man in the alley behind The Sailor’s Arms.”
“And what was your immediate reaction?”
“I thought it couldn’t be, ‘cause Brodie’s avery peaceful fella an’ – ”
Thornton was on his feet, teetering withumbrage.
“The constable’s personal opinions are notrelevant, Milord.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Thornton, that it was youwho introduced the murky business of state of mind and intentions‘at this critical point,’” the judge said. “Proceed, Mr. Edwards -cautiously.”
“Did he give you any details of thisassault?”
“I told him I thought he must’ve been fendin’off a robber or somethin’, but he just said he’d punched a fella onthe cheek an’ knocked him down. Then he showed me the knuckles onhis right hand. They were scraped an’ bruised.”
“Bleeding?”
“A little.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. He said, real quick, that the fellawas tryin’ to wangle money outta him, but he had no reason to hithim ‘cause he was actually plannin’ to haul the fella down to thepolice quarters.”
“Continue, please.”
“He asked me to go back to the alley withhim, but stupidly I said there wasn’t no need fer him to do that -I’d see to the fella an’ he could go off to the City Hall like he’dplanned an’ tell my chief his version of what happened.”
“You assumed, then, that this was a case ofjustifiable assault?”
“Milord!”
“Don’t put words into the witness’s mouth,Mr. Edwards.”
“My apologies, Milord.”
“What usually happens,” Cobb said, “is thatthe two fellas involved in a punch-up accuse each other of startin’it an’ so on, so I figured Mr. Langford should wait at the policequarters fer me to come back there with the one he hit – an’ wecould sort it all out.”
“And he did so?”
“He headed off in that direction, and I seenhim there almost an hour later.”
“But when you got to the alley, you found aman who had been struck first on the cheek, as earliertestimony has indicated, and subsequently bludgeoned todeath with a walking-stick?” Marc resisted the temptation to glanceat the prosecutor as he italicized the key words of hisquestion.
“I was shocked to find what I did.”
Marc paused and, as he had seen DickDougherty do, pretended to consult the notes in front of him. “Doyou think, Constable Cobb, as a veteran policeman, thatsomeone who had just committed a bloody and lethal assault wouldask you to accompany him back to the scene of the – ”
“Milord!”
Justice Powell gave Marc a stern look. “That,sir, is not an appropriate question for the constable and you knowit. We are here to determine the facts of the case, and that isall. I ask the jury to ignore that question, and it shall be struckfrom the record.”
But the jury was agog, and the galleryabuzz.
Marc apologized and sat down, showing noemotion whatsoever.
Very slowly Kingsley Thornton got to his feetto begin his rebuttal. “Mr. Cobb, I have just one or two points toclarify with you,” he said, as if nothing dramatic had just takenplace. “The defendant told you that he struck Mr. Duggan andknocked him down, did he not?”
Looking wary, Cobb said, “That’s what hesaid.”
“And he admitted he had lost his temper andstruck the fellow because the latter was blackmailing him?”
“Yup.”
“And he specifically asked you to accompanyhim back to the alley?”
“Yup.”
“Is it not possible, sir, that whether hewent back with you or continued on to the police quarters, he hadconfessed only to an assault with his fist, was at great pains toshow his knuckles, and would thus be in a position to feignastonishment, in that alley or in the chief’s office, that sincehis hasty and guilt-ridden departure, some blackguardhad picked up his inadvertently dropped walking-stick and doneDuggan in?”
“Mr. Thornton!”
Thornton smiled benignly. “Milord, my nextwitness will present me with the opportunity to introduce intoevidence the sworn statement of Broderick Langford, the probativevalue of which needs to be thoroughly explored, including thepossibility that all or part of it was meant as an ingeniousdeception.”
The judge looked uncertain. Marc was on hisfeet, silently pleading.
“There’s no need for Mr. Cobb to answer thequestion,” Justice Powell said. “But it shall remain part of therecord.”
Marc slumped back onto his bench. WhileThornton had not succeeded in rooting out the notion that a guiltyman was not likely to lead a policeman by the hand to his victim,he had blunted its effect and prepared the jury for hisinterpretation of the “confession.” At least the butterflies haddisappeared from Marc’s stomach, as they had when he had finallyentered the field of battle in Quebec two years before.
***
Kingsley Thornton now called Wilfrid Sturges to thestand in order to focus the jury’s attention upon Brodie’sstatement. He compelled the chief constable to say that Brodieinsisted – against all advice – on making a statement before theother party to the dispute arrived with Cobb, that such aconfession was unusual in the circumstances – Brodie having beenthe one threatened, as it were – and that the chief had listened tothe dictated account, watched Brodie read and sign it, and hadadded his own name as witness.
At this point everyone expected Thorntonwould bring in the document itself, but instead the prosecutorsaid, “How long would it have taken the accused to walk from thecorner of Wellington and Peter Streets all the way to the City Halleast of Yonge?”
“Depends how fast he was walkin’.”
“Short of running, then, how quickly couldthose seven long city blocks be navigated?”
“Ten, possibly fifteen minutes,” Sturges saidgrudgingly.
“Lots of time for the accused to work outexactly the kind of story he hoped to spin when he got to yourquarters?”
“Milord!”
“Mr. Thornton, it’s the jury’s responsibilityto draw conclusions from factual evidence, not yours. You’ll haveplenty of opportunity to expatiate on this matter during yoursummation.”
Again, much damage had already been done.Having prejudiced the jurors against Brodie’s statement, he now hadit read into evidence. And, for the first time, they were hearingthe lad’s own words and his detailed explanation of his actions.They heard that he had received a blackmail note, in the presenceof his sister, threatening to expose a secret about his friend,Miss Diana Ramsay, and ruin her life unless five pounds weredelivered to an ashcan behind The Sailor’s Arms on the followingWednesday at nine-thirty; that Brodie had planned to entrap theblackmailer by hiding in the shadows after placing a packet ofblank paper in the ashcan, confronting the blackmailer when he cameto collect his booty, and taking him off to the police. He admittedfreely that when he did come face to face with the fellow, he wasenraged by a comment that insulted Miss Ramsay, lost his temper andfelled the villain with one punch to the left cheek. When the mandropped onto his back unconscious, Brodie stooped over to make surehe was breathing, found he was, and then, feeling the aftershock atwhat he had done, had run in a panicked state farther up the alleyand then eastward out onto Peter Street. Up at Wellington he hadmet Cobb, and then come straight to the police quarters.