Bobby Lee shook his head. “Only that I didn’t do it. I mean, yes, sir, I was there, but like I say, I was there trying to catch the Frank Dodd gang. And if Sheriff Wallace had done what I asked him to do in the letter, if he had been there like he was supposed to, then more than likely Mr. Fletcher would still be alive, and Dodd and the others with him would be in jail.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Roswell said. “As the letter is not in evidence, it cannot again be mentioned, either in presentation or summary.”
“Sustained. Do you understand what that means, Mr. Cabot?” Briggs asked.
“I’m not sure that I do understand, Judge.”
“It means that this letter, whether real or supposed, is of no use to you in your defense. You may not mention it again. Do you understand it now?”
“Yes, sir. Uh, yes, Your Honor.”
“Do you have anything else to present in your defense?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Very well. Mr. Roswell, make your case,” the judge said.
“Your Honor, prosecution calls Sheriff Herman Wallace to the stand,” Roswell said.
“Sheriff Wallace, take the stand, please,” Judge Briggs said.
Wallace stood, hiked up his trousers, then walked to the front of the courtroom. After he was sworn in, he took the stand, which was a chair next to the table Judge Briggs was using as his bench. Wallace was so big that once he sat down, none of the chair could be seen. As a result, it almost looked as if he were just squatting in the front of the room, and for some reason, despite the severity of the moment, Bobby Lee found the picture funny. He laughed out loud.
“Do you find these proceedings funny, Mr. Cabot?” Judge Briggs asked sharply.
“No, Your Honor,” Bobby Lee replied.
“Then please display the proper decorum in my courtroom.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Counselor, you may continue with your direct,” Judge Briggs said.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Roswell said. He then turned his attention to his witness.
“Sheriff Wallace, defense claims that the two of you were working together. He further claims that he provided you with all the information as to time and place regarding the robbery, and that you were to secrete yourself in the express car for the purpose of arresting Dodd when the robbery was attempted. Are any of those claims true?”
“No, they are not,” Wallace replied forcefully.
“Let’s dismiss this subject of a letter once and for all. Did you receive a letter from the defendant, outlining all or any of these proposals?”
“I did not.”
“Would you have acted if you had received such a letter?”
“Absolutely,” Wallace said. “For the opportunity to take out the Dodd gang, I would have done anything necessary. But I never received such a letter.”
“Do you know Minnie Smith, the person that Cabot attempted to call on his behalf?”
“I know who she is, yes.”
“Assuming the judge had allowed her to testify, would her testimony have been credible?”
“I doubt it,” Wallace replied.
“Why not?”
“Miss Smith is—uh—I don’t like to say it in mixed company.”
“Come, now, Sheriff. We are all adults and we bear a serious responsibility with this trial. So I ask you again. Why do you feel that Miss Smith’s testimony would not be credible?”
“She is a—soiled dove.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“She is a whore,” Wallace said.
Roswell nodded, then looked toward the young woman who was sitting in the front row. “Is her profession the only reason you would find her testimony untrustworthy?”
“No, sir. Like all whores, I suppose, she has her favorite. And for reasons unbeknownst to me, Bobby Lee Cabot seems to be that one, though what she sees in him, I’ll never know.”
The gallery laughed.
“I object!” Bobby Lee shouted.
“What is your objection, Mr. Cabot?” Judge Briggs asked.
“I object to them calling Miss Smith a whore.”
Again the gallery laughed, and Judge Briggs made use of his gavel. When the laughter stopped, he looked over at Bobby Lee. “I am going to accept your objection, Mr. Cabot, but not for the reason you stated. It had already
