Edgar Pangborn by The Trial of Callista Blake

Author:The Trial of Callista Blake [Blake, The Trial of Callista]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

II

The clock said half past one. Callista watched Judge Mann hurry into the courtroom, all business, dark pucker of a[165] frown, the black robe too priestlike. It seemed to her that all present including herself were distorted by the magnifying power of ritual. As Father Bland, in the back row beside (my late acquaintance) James Mulhouse Doherty, would appear deceptively beyond life-size if he were wearing his magic vestments and saying a Mass.

“This Court is now in session.” Mr.-Delehanty-which-is-the-clerk.

When did judges start wearing black robes, and why black? How long has the office of judge existed at all? How about the wig—(O the opportunity for mice!) and why did the American States do away with it?—unfair to bald American lawyers. Subject for a thesis—relation judiciary to priesthood—ecclesiastical courts—modern veneration for office of judge—has judiciary ever become really secular? In fact could it, ever? My ignorance—

“Members of the jury,” said Judge Mann, “your attention, please. I have just been talking on the telephone with Dr. Garcia at St. Michael’s Hospital, where Mr. Judd was taken after his collapse this morning when he had finished testifying.” (Talking-to-Edith, compare ignorance to an unplowed field.) “It was a heart attack, as you probably realized, and the outlook for him may not be good. In Dr. Garcia’s opinion, Mr. Judd’s condition has probably been developing for quite a long time.” (The soil itself is ready, indifferent, to produce flowers, nice fat potatoes, or stinking weeds.) “The attack occurred, please remember, when his testimony was done. Legally the situation is this: Mr. Judd’s collapse has no bearing on the case you must deal with. He had completed what he had to say; Mr. Hunter had announced he didn’t intend to make a redirect examination. During this long noon recess I have talked with both counsel; neither side felt there would have been any occasion to recall Mr. Judd. While he testified, I think you’ll agree, Mr. Judd was in full command of his faculties, so far as anyone can tell. Give his testimony the same weight, no[166] more and no less, that you would if his breakdown had not happened; simply try to shut it out of your minds. To my certain knowledge, neither counsel was aware of the bad state of Mr. Judd’s health. Both counsel believed him as well able to stand the emotional strain of giving testimony as any other witness. Mr. Judd undoubtedly believed this himself. Dr. Garcia tells me Mr. Judd had neglected medical attention for a long time and was unaware of his heart weakness. I charge you now, and will again: remember this thing happened outside of the trial.”

The Judge was laboring, Callista understood, laboring too much perhaps, to defend Cecil Warner and through Warner herself, against the chill poison of unspoken words, illogical notions. If Nathaniel Judd died, no one would blame Mr. Hunter for summoning him, but many would recall Cecil Warner’s words: “If you do not understand that question, I have no others.” For certain minds it would be no strain to argue: Judd died, therefore the Blake girl is guilty.

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