“On that profound conviction I could, I say, rest this case. But there is a bare possibility that some minor aspects of the case are not so clear to you as they are to me—there is a passionate desire on my part to leave not one stone unturned in behalf of either of my clients—and there is also, I confess, a very human desire to confront and confound some of the glib crew who have mounted the steps to that stand day after day somewhat too greatly concerned to swear away two human lives. It will not be a lengthy and exhausting performance, I promise. Four or five honest men and women will suffice, and you will find, I believe, that truth travels as fast as light.
“Nor shall I produce the hundreds upon hundreds of character witnesses that I could bring before you to tell you that of all the fine and true and gallant souls that have crossed their paths, the most gallant, the finest and the truest is the girl that this very sovereign state is asking you to brand as a murderess. In the case of the People versus Susan Ives I shall call only one character witness into that box—Susan Ives herself. And if, after you have listened to her, after you have seen her, after you have heard her tell her story, you do not believe that society and the law and the people themselves, clamouring for a victim, have made a frightful and shocking error, it will be because I am not only a bad lawyer but a bad prophet as well. Gentlemen, it is my profound and solemn conviction that whatever I may be as a lawyer, I am in very truth a good prophet!”
“I don’t believe he’s a bad lawyer,” said the redheaded girl breathlessly. “He’s a good lawyer. He is! He makes everyone see just how ridiculous the case against them is. That’s being a good lawyer, isn’t it. That’s making a good speech, isn’t it? That’s—”
“He’s a pompous old jackass,” said the reporter unkindly. “But he loves his Sue, and he did just a little better than he knows how. Not so good at that either. You don’t make a case ridiculous by jeering at it. If—”
“Call Mrs. Platz!” boomed the oblivious object of his strictures.
“Mrs. Adolph Platz!”
Mrs. Platz, minute and meek, with straw-coloured hair and straw-coloured lashes and a small pink nose in a small white face, advanced toward the witness stand with no assurance whatever.
“Mrs. Platz, what was your position on ?”
“I was chambermaid-waitress with Mrs. Alfred Bond at Oyster Bay.”
“Had you been formerly in the employ of Mrs. Patrick Ives?”
“Yes, sir, I was, for about six months in . I just did chamber work there, though.”
“Was your husband there at the time?”
“Yes, sir. Adolph was there as what you might call a useful man. He helped with the furnace and garden and ran the station wagon—things like that.”
“How long had you been married?”
“Not very long, sir—not a year, quite.” Mrs. Platz’s lips were suddenly unsteady.
“Mrs. Platz, why did you leave Mrs. Ives’s employ?”
“Do I have to answer that, sir?”
“I should very much like to have you answer it. Was it because you were discontented with your work?”
“Oh, no, indeed, it wasn’t that; nobody in this world could want a kinder mistress than Mrs. Ives. It was because—it was because of Adolph.”
“What about Adolph, Mrs. Platz?”
“It was because—” She shook her head despairingly, fighting down the shamed, painful flush. “I don’t like talking about it, sir. I’m not one for talking much.”
“I know. Still, the only thing that can help any of us now is truth. I’m sure that you want to help to give us that.”
“Yes, sir, I do. All right then—it was because of the way Adolph was carrying on with Mrs. Ives’s waitress, Melanie.”
“How did you know that?”
“Oh, I think they wanted me to know it,” said Adolph Platz’s wife, her soft voice suddenly hard and bitter. “He was more like a lunatic over her than a sane, grown-up man—he was indeed. I caught him kissing her twice—once in the pantry and once just behind the garage. They wanted me to catch them.”
“What did you do when you made this discovery?”
“The first time I didn’t do anything; I was too scared and sick and surprised. I didn’t know men did things like that—you know, not the men you married—not decent ones that were your brother’s best friends, like Adolph. Other men might, but not them. I didn’t do anything but cry some at night. But the next time I saw them I wasn’t so surprised, and I was mad right through to my bones. I jumped right in and told both of them what I thought of them, and then I went right straight to Mrs. Ives and told her I was leaving the minute she could get someone else, and I told her why too. I told her she could keep Adolph, but not me.”
“What happened then?”
“Then she sent for Melanie and Adolph and they both said it wasn’t so.”
“Your Honour—”
“Never mind what anyone said, Mrs. Platz; just tell us what happened.”
“I couldn’t do that without telling you what we were all saying, sir. We were all talking at once, you see, and—”
“Yes. Well, suppose you just tell us what happened as a result of this conference?”
“Adolph and I left, sir. I wouldn’t have stayed no matter what happened after all that—not with me a laughingstock of all those servants for being such a dumbbell about what was going on. And Mrs. Ives didn’t want Adolph without me, so
