There was a legal huddle between the judge, Hunt and the DA. Finally, it was decided that the DA should have the opportunity of examining the case papers of Delaney and the patient from Studdley’s clinic and to call his own medical expert to watch the demonstration which was to be held at Blue Jay cabin.
On that note the court adjourned for the day.
IV
The following morning there was a big gathering in the lounge of Blue Jay cabin. Besides the judge and jury, there were the two medical experts, Boos, Maddox, Hunt, the DA and myself.
Seated in Delaney’s wheel chair was a thin, delicate looking man whose name was Holman.
Hunt asked him to go to the storeroom and see if he could get a screwdriver from the toolbox.
Holman trundled himself down the passage, followed by the jury and anyone else who could squeeze into the crowded passage.
As a witness for the prosecution, I got a front row view.
We all watched Holman manoeuvre the chair into the storeroom and hook the stick over the side of the toolbox. He took a little time judging the distance and moved the chair slightly closer to the shelf. Then he tipped the box over.
The box fell slap in his lap. Several of the tools spilled out onto the floor, but both screwdrivers remained in his lap.
“You see,” Hunt said mildly. “It was really very simple. The screwdriver never reached the floor.”
He got Holman to do the trick five times, and each time the screwdrivers dropped into Holman’s lap.
I could see the DA was looking uneasy by now and the jury were glancing at each other significantly.
“Now we’ll see about taking the back off the set,” Hunt said. “Let’s return to the lounge.”
We all followed Holman as he trundled the chair along the passage.
Hunt said to him, “See if you can reach those two screws, Mr Holman.”
Holman wheeled the chair up to the set.
“It can’t be done,” he said as he put out his arm. He was at least eighteen inches from the screws.
“Okay,” Hunt said quietly. “Now I want you to imagine you are a desperate man and no matter how much it hurts, no matter how great the effort, it is essential for you to get at those two screws. I want you to imagine that, after you have taken the screws out, then you are going to commit suicide.”
A glass of water was put on an occasional table by Holman’s side.
“Now go ahead,” Hunt said. “Try to get at those screws.”
There was a sudden tension in the room that you could feel. Sweat trickled down my face as I leaned forward, my eyes, like everyone’s eyes, glued on the man in Delaney’s chair.
Holman manoeuvred his chair close to the TV set. Then he put his hands on the arms of the chair and raised his helpless body a few inches off the seat of the chair. He remained like that for several seconds. He then dipped his head forward and at the same time gave the chair a little push back. The chair slid away from him as he let go of the arms.
Before anyone could move, he had pitched forward, coming to the floor with a sickening crash.
A police officer started forward, but Hunt stopped him.
The fall had obviously badly shaken Holman, who lay motionless, face down before the TV set.
Hunt went to him and squatted down beside him.
“Are you all right, Mr Holman?” he asked, an anxious note in his voice.
“Yes, I’m all right.”
The thin, shaky voice was a whisper in the room.
Then the paralysed man began to move slightly. He pushed himself over on his side. By him was the screwdriver. He picked it up, then undid the two fixing screws and pulled off the back of the set. From where he lay he had no trouble in reaching the two screws.
While everyone in the room watched him in tense and utter silence, he rolled onto his other side, reached out and picked up the glass of water. He drank a little of the water, then dropped the glass as he sank face down on the floor.
“Hold it!” Hunt said. He looked around the lounge until he spotted me. “Mr Regan! Come here, please.”
I joined him beside Holman’s motionless body.
“Look at this man. Was that how you found Delaney? Look at him carefully. Was that how you found him?”
“Yes,” I said. “That was just the way he was lying.”
And that was the turning point of the trial.
Back in the courtroom that afternoon, the DA put up a fight, but he knew he was licked. Hunt had created too much doubt in the minds of the jury. His closing speech was powerful and stirring. He said that no man nor woman with any sense of responsibility could convict Gilda on such flimsy evidence and he demanded an immediate acquittal.
The jury were out for two hours.
They were the longest two hours I have ever lived through. When they came back, they all looked at Gilda, and I knew that she was free.
The foreman said they found her not guilty, and there was quite a demonstration in court.
Gilda stood beside Hunt. She was very white, and I could see she was breathing quickly by the rise and fall of her breasts.
When she left the courtroom, she didn’t look in my direction and I hurried after her, but I lost her in the crowd.
As I was pushing my way to the exit, I bumped into Maddox, who grimed at me, his expression wolfish.
“That was a neat trick,” he said. “She was lucky. Well, she didn’t get my money, and that’s what I care most about.”
Lowson Hunt joined him.
“This time you were wrong,” he said, his thin face showing his triumph. “I knew I’d get her off.”
“Wrong?” Maddox said. “She was saved by a trick. I’ll say I wasn’t wrong! She’s as guilty as hell!”
Leaving Hunt staring after him, Maddox walked down the steps to where his car was waiting.
Chapter IX
I
I had had a letter from the radio engineering firm in Miami who said that they could fit me into their organization.
Although the money they offered was lower than I had been earning on my own, I had decided to take the job as it would get me out of California, and it would give me a living until I could look around for something better.
It was my great hope and my wish that Gilda would come with me. I had no idea where she was staying in Los Angeles. As soon as I got back to my cabin, I called George Macklin and asked him where I could find her.
He was abruptly hostile.
“I can’t give you Mrs Delaney’s address. She left a few hours ago for New York. If you care to write to her, I will have the letter forwarded to her.”
This news that Gilda had gone to New York was a real jolt to me until I realized that she probably was trying to escape all the publicity and the newspaper men, and when she knew of my plans, she would join me.
I said I would write.
When I sat down to write the letter, I found the task harder than I had imagined. There was so much I wanted to say to her and so much I wanted to explain.
I told her I was going to Miami and I gave her my address there. I explained about the job. I said I loved her; that I wanted her to join me and I wanted us to start a new life together. I said I hoped she would feel she could love me again now that she knew I hadn’t been responsible for Delaney’s death. I asked her to write me in Miami, saying she was going to join me.
On my way down to the station to take the train to Miami, I left the letter at Macklin’s office.
I settled down quickly in Miami. I had a two-room apartment, and I worked hard, but there was no joy in life for me, for I didn’t hear from Gilda. I wrote again to her and sent the letter to Macklin. He didn’t bother to acknowledge it.