The crime with which the accused was charged was not of a particularly
complicated nature with regard to the question as to how, or by whom,
the theft had been committed. But it was a different matter with regard
to the motives and the circumstances under which it had taken place, and
he was willing to admit that in this respect little or no light had been
thrown upon the matter. An uncommon article, an object of great value,
in other words, the black diamond, which now lay on the judge's table,
was stolen on May 10 from Mr. Frick, who was now present in court as a
witness. The police were at once informed of the theft, and they
succeeded not only in recovering the stolen object, but also in
providing such information that the public prosecutor was able to prove
fully before the court, both how the theft had been perpetrated, by
whom, and how the thief had disposed of the stolen object.
He would call witnesses to prove at what time the theft had been
committed, that the accused at that time had been at least half an hour
in the house, that she during that time had the opportunity of going
into the room where the diamond was kept, and at a time when the
cupboard was not locked. He could prove by a means which seldom fell to
the lot of the authorities, that the accused, in the time during which
the theft had taken place, had been into the room and even opened the
case where the diamond was kept. He could next prove that the accused
at an earlier hour of the same day had had an opportunity of hearing an
assurance from a rich man that he would pay a large sum of money to
become possessed of the diamond. She thus knew beforehand that she
could sell the stolen article without any difficulty.
Finally, he could prove that the diamond was actually sold by the
accused on the same day to the man just mentioned.
Thus far the chain of evidence was as complete as any could be, and in
order to substantiate the guilt of the accused it was of no consequence
that she had retracted her confession, and had hitherto refused to give
any explanation whatsoever; every experienced judge would know exactly
what value to put on circumstantial evidence of such a character. It was
just as good, if not surer, than a confession.
What still had to be explained was, what had become of the money which
the accused had received for the diamond and what could be the
particular motives for this criminal act.
Some information might possibly be obtained during the examination of
the witnesses; but if this was not the case, the prosecutor would be
obliged to maintain that the punishment be in accordance with the utmost
rigour of the Law. The public prosecutor would, therefore, conclude
with the request to the judge that he ask the accused most earnestly to
give a full explanation. If she still persisted in her refusal to give
this explanation, he must warn her that it would be with detriment to
her cause, and possibly to that of justice.
It was so quiet in the court, when the public prosecutor sat down, that
one could hear a pin drop.
The judge then turned and addressed the young girl. In calm,
considerate words he called her attention to the fact that she had the
right, in any case, to do as she pleased--either to speak or to keep
silent; and that no pressure would be brought to bear upon her, least of
all to make her confess. This much, however, he felt it his duty to tell
her, that she was certainly not acting in her own interests by
maintaining silence. If she were innocent, which he still hoped, then
her own explanations would only serve to show it: and if she were
guilty, they would enable the court to consider her case in the most
lenient manner possible.
Every eye in the room was turned on the unhappy girl, but her face
remained as impassive as that of a statue; her lips were pressed
together, and her eyes cast down.
Her counsel leaned toward her and whispered something in her ear. She
did not raise her eyes; her only answer was a slight inclination of the
head.
"I must request," said the young advocate, "that my client's wish to
make no further statements shall be respected. She has decided to say
nothing; and I know that her resolution in this respect is not to be
shaken. Whether this decision is wise or no, and whether or no it is
taken by my advice, is not for the moment a subject for discussion. It
is enough to say that whatever appeals were directed toward her to state
what she knows of the case would, however well meant, only prolong the
proceedings."
No sooner had the counsel sat down than a murmur went around the court,
giving expression to nearly all the different feelings which move the
human heart. Some feared that the accused would damage her own cause,
others admired her firmness, while many expressed astonishment at her
audacity. As all the papers have already published detailed accounts of
what happened at Villa Ballarat upon the day that the robbery was
committed, it will be sufficient to mention that the evidence of all the
witnesses only served to corroborate what the public already knew,
thanks to the unremitting zeal of the newspaper reporters.
It also seemed as if the counsel for the defence understood that it
would be hopeless to upset that part of the evidence.
He certainly tried to make it appear possible that some strange person
might have crept into the garden of the villa between five and half-past
seven in the afternoon; but this attempt was stranded, upon the
gardener's definite assurance that the gate had been locked the whole
time, and on the evidence of the chief of the detective police with
regard to the examination he had made of the railing and the ground
round the garden.
The counsel for the defence was more fortunate in his attempt to obtain
evidence of good character and behaviour for the accused. Mr. Frick and
his niece were especially unremitting in their praise of the young girl.
Miss Frick caused much excitement when, in answer to a question by the
counsel for the defence, she answered:--
"Evelina has for several years had all my trinkets and jewels in her
custody. Thanks to my uncle's generosity, I have more of those kinds of
things than I need, and it would have been very easy for her to take any
one of many of these, without fear of discovery. Her mere assertion
that something had been lost would have been enough.... No! she is
honesty itself! She could never steal my uncle's diamond, of that I am
convinced, however much appearances are against her!..."
There was great sensation in court when Mr. Howell was called as
witness. Every one, of course, knew of the strange circumstances under
which he had been involved in the matter.
He began by asking the judge if he might be excused from appearing as
witness. The judge asked him to give his reasons for this request. Mr.
Howell explained that he was a private gentleman and not a police spy.
It was quite by an accident he had come to play a role in this affair--a
role which did not please him. He had already given his explanation to
the police, and had hoped that would have been sufficient.
The judge answered that none of these explanations could exempt him from
appearing as witness. One could not help respecting his feelings; but
since no lawful reasons could be given, they must request him to give
what evidence he could.
Mr. Howell, who spoke the Norwegian language fluently, submitted to the
inevitable, and gave a short and clear account of how he came to
photograph the accused, so to speak, "in flagrante."
The papers have already published an account of this scene, so that I
shall not repeat his evidence "_in extenso_." I shall only reproduce
the following of the examination.
_Public prosecutor_: "What did you do with the film after you had taken
the photograph?"
_Witness_: "I went to my room with it, took the films out of the
apparatus, and took them to the photographer's to be developed. I
called at the photographer's on my way to the railway station."
_Public prosecutor_: "You maintain, then, that it is the accused whom
you have photographed, but without your being aware of it? Are you sure
it is the accused?"
_Witness_: "Any one who has seen the accused a few times will see that
she is the person in the photograph."
_Public prosecutor_ (taking an object from the judge's table): "Is this
the photograph in question, which you, yourself, delivered up to the
police?"
_Witness_ (taking the photograph in his hand and carefully examining
it): "Yes, it is."
The public prosecutor declared himself satisfied, and the counsel for
the defence began: "Now, are you quite sure that when you photographed
the accused you did not believe her to be some one else--for instance,
Miss Frick?"
_Witness_: "Yes, I believe I have already explained myself sufficiently
clearly on that point."
_Counsel for the defence_: "I cannot understand how you can now be so
sure that the picture represents my client, while you believed quite
otherwise when you had the living person before you. What is the reason
for this?"
_Witness_: "I have before explained I was in a great hurry at the time.
I wanted to get away before the person should turn round--it was all
done in fun on my part. Besides, I thought I recognized Miss Frick's
jacket,--she had been in the habit of wearing a jacket trimmed with
braid. Later, I got to hear that Miss Frick that same day had given it
to her maid as a present, and on looking at the photo I became convinced
it was the maid."
_Counsel for the defence_: "Good! Are you also quite sure that the
picture you now see here is the same as that you took on that occasion?
The film has been several days out of your keeping, and in other hands."
The young Englishman seemed rather impatient at this examination. "If
the film has not been tampered with at the photographer's," he exclaimed
quickly, "it is the picture of what I saw in the museum. Whether it has
been tampered with or not, I see here before me the same person, in the
same position, and in the same room--others must now decide which is
most probable."
He took up the picture again, examined it carefully, and handed it back
to the public prosecutor.
"I have only wanted to show," said the counsel for the defence, quietly,
"that you yourself at one time have doubted the identity of the person
who stands in front of Miss Frick's cupboard in the photograph. I have
now only two other questions to ask you.
"What was the time when you took the photograph?"
_Witness_: "About six."
_Counsel for the defence_: "Are you not able to give the time more
exactly? Might it not just as well have been half-past six?"
_Witness_: "I cannot give the exact time. I didn't attach much
importance to the incident. When I had taken the photograph I went up to
my room, and was busy there for some time before I left. It was then
about seven, so from that I conclude that the photograph was taken about
six."
_Counsel_: "Might it not have been a little over half-past six?"
_Witness_: "No! I can be quite certain it was not over half-past six."
_Counsel_: "Could you see that the person held the diamond in her hand?
In the photograph the object which she holds is hidden by her shoulder."
_Witness_: "When first I caught sight of her, she held the diamond
somewhat higher, so that I was able to see it; afterward she lowered her
arm, and while in that position she was photographed."
The counsel for the defence seemed to be satisfied.
Then Mr. Rodin, the photographer, was called as witness.
The well-known artist, whose pleasant manners have obtained for him so
many customers and friends, bowed to the judge and court, and, the usual
formalities having been observed, he answered quickly and decisively the
questions which the public prosecutor put to him.
Public prosecutor: "Do you recognize this photograph? Has it been in
your hands before?"
_Witness_: "Yes; this film, together with some others, was given me to
develop, by Mr. Howell, on the evening of the 10th of May, about seven
or half-past."
Public prosecutor: "And are you sure that this photograph is an exact
reproduction of the negative?"
_Witness_ (smiling): "The photograph cannot lie, sir! Even if I had
wished it, I could not have produced anything else than what was to be
seen in front of the apparatus at the moment it was opened to take the
photograph."
The public prosecutor finished his examination, and the counsel for the
defence began his.
_Counsel_: "Can you be certain that this photograph is the same one
which you developed several weeks ago for Mr. Howell? It has not been
in your possession since?"
_Witness_: "Yes, sir, I am quite sure; you can see for yourself that my
initials are written on the back;--look, O.R. 10/5, H. 10. The first
are my initials, then follows the date it was received, then the initial
of Mr. Howell's name, from whom I received it, and lastly, the number in
the series. The roll which he brought me that day consisted of ten
films; this was number ten, the last photograph he had taken."
_Counsel_: "You cannot, however, be quite certain that this is the same
picture which Mr. Howell brought you. During the work, some of your
people might have mixed Mr. Howell's pictures together with other
people's. Such a thing might happen, might it not?"
_Witness_: "No, sir; I develop all Mr. Howell's films with my own hands.
He is very particular about them. As you will see, this picture is very
clear and distinct, and I flatter myself that all the pictures which
have passed through my hands are the same,--that is to say, when such an
expert snap-shot taker as Mr. Howell has taken them."
_Counsel_: "Is there any reason, Mr. Rodin, why one could not photograph
first the room, then a person, and then transfer that person to the
first picture, so that a person appears in the room on the picture?"
The public had remained unusually silent and attentive during the whole
of the proceedings; at this question the silence became still more
intense. Every one understood the counsel's object in putting this
question--that each one of his questions was an attempt to clutch at a
last straw in the interest of his client; but all understood also that
each straw slipped out of his hand, one by one. The same happened to
this question. The witness answered, without any hesitation, "It is
possible, sir; but every experienced photographer would tell you that
this has not been attempted in the present case."
The young advocate looked disappointed. He made a motion like one who
washes his hands, and allowed the witness to step down.
The photograph was sent round among the members of the jury and the
court, while the next witness was being called. It was the young chief
of the detective police, Charles Monk. The public hailed his appearance
with murmurs of approbation which must be just as much attributed to his
winning appearance as to the reputation he had already gained as a
police officer. His evidence was calm, clear, and concise, as befits a
policeman, and all listened with breathless attention to the account of
how the young chief had taken upon himself the role of detective, and
had not rested until Mr. Frick's diamond was in the hands of the police.
When Mr. Monk, in his evidence, came to speak of his visit to Jurgens,
and of the stratagem he had used to deceive the old man, many of the
spectators began to clap their hands and shout, Bravo! The judge's
authority for the moment had to be called into account to produce
silence.
Although there was scarcely a person in the court who did not wish that
the young girl in the dock should be acquitted, so paradoxical is human
nature that the same people applauded the great skill with which the net
had been drawn around her.
The last hope for the prisoner seemed to vanish at the evidence of the
detective.
The counsel for the defence had not many questions to ask. He tried to
show that both on her arrest and upon Mr. Monk's first visit to her
mother's home, she had been in an irresponsible condition, and for that
purpose he had no doubt summoned her mother and her lover, the actor, to
give evidence. Although their evidence was a voluntary matter, owing to
the relation in which they stood to the accused, they both declared
themselves willing to tell what they knew. Their evidence did not,
however, throw any new light on the matter. Both were convinced of the
young girl's innocence, and asked the court not to believe her, even if
she should again confess. She had always been of a nervous temperament,
and often a little strange.
Neither the loquacious woman with the ruddy complexion, nor the
pomatummed Don Juan, whose shady character is so well known in the town,
made a good impression; and the counsel for the defence concluded their
examination as soon as possible. The general impression was that he,
for the defence, had originally intended to prove that his client was
irresponsible, but that during the proceedings before the court he had
abandoned this line of defence.
* * * * *
I had proceeded thus far in my reading when I stopped and looked at my
friends. Clara was listening with her mouth open, and did not seem as
if she would tolerate any interruption. Monk sat silently in an
armchair in the darkest corner of the room.
"Shall I continue?" I asked, "or will you allow me to ask a question?"
"I would rather you read the newspaper account to the end, first," was
Monk's answer; and I heard by the tone of his voice that he was
unusually agitated.
"Yes, go on reading, and let us hear what happens," said Clara, trying
to look over my shoulder.