He knew he’d lost it. But he’d lie and say it was stolen, or that he’d given it away...
She wrapped the swastika and taped it in place, carefully straightening the picture. The leaves and vines that decorated it had turned dry and brittle, but the eyes of the young men were as joyously stern as when she had cut out their photographs and surrounded them with the flowers of love and honor and remembrance.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Judge Flood’s clerk said, “Place your left hand on the Bible and raise your right hand. Do you solemnly swear that the testimony you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“Yes, I do.”
“State your full name.”
“Shana Teresa Selby.”
“State your address.”
“Mill Lane and Fairlee Road. Muhlenburg, R.D., Pennsylvania.”
“Please be seated.”
Shana removed her hand from the Bible and took the witness stand. Her face was pale. Tiny silver clips held back her long hair. As Brett approached the stand, Judge Flood rapped his gavel to quiet a stir in the courtroom, a murmuring tension, anticipation.
When the sounds faded, Flood said, “I don’t want any disorder in this courtroom. The testimony to be given will be of an intimate and sensitive nature. Television coverage of these hearings has been suspended for the duration of plaintiff’s testimony.”
Flood raised his eyes to the crowded spectators’ gallery. “If there is any unseemly reaction to these proceedings I will order the marshals to clear the court. Your presence here is a privilege, not a right.”
Swinging around in his chair, the judge looked down at Shana. “Now, young lady, I don’t want you to be nervous. I want you to be just as relaxed as possible. Take your time answering our questions. If there is anything you don’t understand, feel perfectly free to ask the People’s attorney or myself for clarification. You understand?”
Shana nodded yes, then blushed, realizing she would have to say yes out loud so the court stenographer could record it.
“Yes, sir.”
The judge nodded to Brett. “The People may proceed.”
“Thank you, Your Honor... Shana, I’d like to go back to October sixteenth of last year, a Friday. On that day, you rode your bicycle from your house down to Fairlee Road?”
“Yes.”
Brett had positioned herself so that she could watch the judge and jury’s reactions to Shana’s responses.
“How far is it from your driveway on Mill Lane to Fairlee Road?”
“About a hundred yards, I think.”
“What time of day was it?”
“It was just getting dark. It was around five o’clock.”
“Do you ride down to Fairlee Road every afternoon?”
“No, not every afternoon. But when the weather was nice, I usually did.”
“Did you usually go alone?”
“Sometimes my brother Davey went with me. Or I took our dog—”
“But on this afternoon, you were alone?”
“Yes.”
“So what you were doing — riding your bike a hundred yards from your home — that was routine and casual after-school activity. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Shana, will you tell the court in your own words what happened on that particular Friday afternoon?”
Shana began her recital in a firm voice, her eyes fixed on Brett’s... “I heard a car coming, it was still a long way off, but I got over to the shoulder of the road. I couldn’t see the car, there’s a curve where Mill Lane and Fairlee come together. The car was on the other side of the curve. I could hear it. It was going the — opposite way I was—”
“Excuse me, young lady,” Judge Flood said, “but I’m not sure I get the picture.”
“Well, that’s what I saw, sir.”
“Yes, but we want to be sure the jury sees everything just as you did.” Flood glanced at Brett. “A question or two might clarify the geography for us, Miss Brett.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Shana, you were facing the sound of the approaching car, right?”
“Yes...”
“You rode onto the shoulder of the road when you heard it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you get off your bike?”
“No, I just stopped and put my foot on the ground.”
“You were in full control of your bicycle?”
“Yes, I wasn’t moving at all.”
“And the car was heading toward you? You saw it then?”
“Yes.”
“Could you see the driver?”
“Yes. It was a man, he was alone. The car came around the curve and slowed down.” Shana swallowed; the small dry sound traveled to the ends of the big room. “He headed straight for me then and I knew he was trying to kill me—”
Davic stood and said quietly, “Objection, Your Honor. There is no evidence to support that conclusion.”
“Sustained. Young lady, I don’t want these proceedings to confuse you. So let me explain something to you now. I’ll try to be as clear as I can. We want you to tell us just what happened, and when it happened. But you mustn’t get into the why of it. It’s possible the driver fell asleep or was distracted by a flash of sunlight. I’m not saying that’s what happened, you understand. It’s just as an example. He could have driven onto the wrong side of the road for a number of reasons. But we can’t admit your conclusion that he did so for the purpose of harming you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, I think so. Sir.”
“Good. Please go ahead, Miss Selby.”
“The car came over to my side of the road, heading straight to me. I tried to get out of the way, but the fender hit my bike. I heard a grinding kind of noise, and then I was in the gulley beside the road. A man got out of the car and ran over to me. I thought he wanted to help me... I’m sorry if that’s a... a conclusion, but it’s the only reason I could think of. Then he grabbed me and got me to my feet and pulled me toward his car. I started to try to get away from him and he hit me in the face. I tried to—”
“Tell me, young lady,” Flood interrupted, “what did the alleged assailant hit you with?”
“His hand. His fist, I mean.”
“Please go on.”
“I hit him back and tried to get away from him too. I must have fallen down because he picked me up again and hit me in the neck and in the face. That’s all I remember until we were inside his car somewhere, driving in the back country.”
Judge Flood said, “How did you know you were in the country, Miss Selby?”
“I... I don’t know. But I couldn’t hear any other traffic, and the air smelled like meadows.”
Brett said, “Shana, will you please tell the judge now if the man who forced you into his car that afternoon is present in this courtroom?”
“Yes... He’s sitting next to his lawyer there, Mr. Davic.”
“Will you point to him?”
A stir of excitement as Shana pointed to Earl Thomson.
“That’s him, Miss Brett, right there.”
“Let the record show that the plaintiff has pointed to and identified the accused, Mr. Earl Thomson.”
Davic put a hand on Thomson’s arm and said something in a whisper. A flush of color had come into Earl’s face.
Brett said quietly, “Shana, tell us what happened then?”
“We drove through the... the darkness for a long time.”
Judge Flood looked annoyed but said nothing.
“My face hurt where he hit me. I tried to watch the numbers on the... the odometer, I think it’s called. I thought I could figure out the distance. But I was partially on the front seat beside him and partly on the floor. It was hard to look without moving my head and I was afraid he’d know I was conscious and could see... We turned into a driveway. He pulled me out of the car and made me go into a house with him. It was starting to rain. He was angry about something. He shouted at me, told me to sit on a chair. It was a living room with a fireplace and antlers. I saw that when he turned on a lamp. He tied one of my arms to the arm of the chair with a thin strip of leather like the kind we use on ice skates, square and hard. It was new, I think. I asked him what he was going to do with me. He didn’t tell me, he didn’t say anything, I mean. He went into the kitchen and closed something... shutters, I think, from the sound. He made a fire in the fireplace with paper and kindling. Then he turned on a record player and started shouting at me again, about how bad I was. The music was classical, I think, lots of horns and woodwinds. I didn’t recognize it, though. He drank something in the kitchen. He filled a glass from a bottle and drank it and filled it again. It was whiskey, I could smell it. Then he came and stood where I was in the chair. There was a water stain on the ceiling just above me. He started shouting again. He told me I was a sinner, that I was evil, I would be sent to hell by myself. Everything seemed crazy then. I thought once I was having a terrible dream. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I hadn’t knocked anyone down with a car and tied them up. But he kept getting angrier, said I had to be punished.”