Murder in Roanoke County by John Long

Author:John Long [Long, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: History, United States, State & Local, General
ISBN: 9781467144100
Google: bsewDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Arcadia Publishing
Published: 2019-01-15T22:30:00+00:00

Roanoke County Courthouse. The roof and chimney behind the wing on the left is the county jail. Salem Historical Society.

But public opinion was beside the point. It would be in a courtroom where his fate would be decided, an unexpectedly long process destined to involve months of legal wrangling. And in the court of law, Charles Watkins enjoyed one decided advantage: he was innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.

7

“THIS IS A MIGHTY SLOW PROCESS”

I moved here to slow down, thought Arthur Benton Pugh. So why am I always in such a hurry?

Pugh did slow down, if only momentarily, to cross Main Street. Caution was always a prudent thing on Main. Between the occasional streetcar and the omnipresent horses and wagons, there were more than a few accidents in bustling Salem. And of course, even if traffic was light, there were always things into which it would be better not to step before standing before a judge in court.

He crossed safely to the courthouse lawn and paused a moment in the shade of the bandstand to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. Too busy, too busy, he thought. But it’s better to be busy than bored, he reminded himself—especially since bored never pays the bills.

This time last year, money was not a consideration in his life. He was an up-and-coming attorney with the Department of the Interior in Washington, D.C., and making a good living—perhaps not the richest attorney in town, but his position was secure. As railroads continued to cross the continent, land claims and the intricacies of the general land laws of the United States were complex enough to keep a flock of lawyers engaged. Pugh found the work challenging and steady, but the pressure was considerable. Official life in the nation’s capital was simply not suited to my tastes, he decided at last.

He’d heard of Salem from a colleague who had passed through the pretty valley and spoke glowingly of the small town next to a booming railroad city. To Pugh, his description brought back memories of his West Virginia home, and surely a bright and talented lawyer could hang his shingle and make a living in such a place. And the slower, small-town pace of life was appealing to his lovely bride.

And so they’d moved to Roanoke County, and soon Pugh (with a bit of judicious self-promotion) found his new practice filling as many hours as his government job had. He was again up-and-coming and could choose to turn down cases when he decided, taking only the cases that seemed most lucrative and interesting.

And yet, his hurry this morning was for a case he was almost certain to lose and couldn’t possibly pay him anything for his trouble. Defending this murderer—accused murderer, he hastened to add, even in his own thoughts—was, in a sense, the right thing to do. The man seemed to be in a dream world of denial, unable to help himself, unaware of the severity of his position. More than many defendants he’d met, he needed competent representation.

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