The news that Judge Brewster would appear for the defendant at the
approaching trial of Howard Jeffries went through the town like
wildfire, and caused an immediate revival in the public interest, which
was beginning to slacken for want of hourly stimulation. Rumor said that
there had been a complete reconciliation in the Jeffries family, that
the banker was now convinced of his son's innocence and was determined
to spend a fortune, if necessary, to save him. This and other reports of
similar nature were all untrue, but the judge let them pass without
contradiction. They were harmless, he chuckled, and if anything, helped
Howard's cause.
Meantime, he himself had not been idle. When once he made up his mind to
do a thing he was not content with half measures. Night and day he
worked on the case, preparing evidence, seeing witnesses and experts,
until he had gradually built up a bulwark of defense which the police
would find difficult to tear down. Yet he was not wholly reassured as to
the outcome until Annie, the day following the interview in his office,
informed him breathlessly that she had found the mysterious woman. The
judge was duly elated; now it was plain sailing, indeed! There had
always been the possibility that Howard's confession to the police was
true, that he had really killed Underwood. But now they had found the
one important witness, the mysterious woman who was in the apartment a
few minutes before the shooting and who was in possession of a letter in
which Underwood declared his intention of shooting himself, doubt was no
longer possible. Acquittal was a foregone conclusion. So pleased was the
judge at Annie's find that he did not insist on knowing the woman's
name. He saw that Annie preferred, for some reason, not to give it--even
to her legal adviser--and he let her have her way, exacting only that
the woman should be produced the instant he needed her. The young woman
readily assented. Of course, there remained the "confession," but that
had been obtained unfairly, illegally, fraudulently. The next important
step was to arrange a meeting at the judge's house at which Dr.
Bernstein, the hypnotic expert, would be present and to which should be
invited both Captain Clinton and Howard's father. In front of all these
witnesses the judge would accuse the police captain of brow-beating his
prisoner into making an untrue confession. Perhaps the captain could be
argued into admitting the possibility of a mistake having been made. If,
further, he could be convinced of the existence of documentary evidence
showing that Underwood really committed suicide he might be willing to
recede from his position in order to protect himself. At any rate it was
worth trying. The judge insisted, also, that to this meeting the
mysterious woman witness should also come, to be produced at such a
moment as the lawyer might consider opportune. Annie merely demanded a
few hours' time so she could make the appointment and soon reappeared
with a solemn promise that the woman would attend the meeting and come
forward at whatever moment called upon.
Three evenings later there was an impressive gathering at Judge
Brewster's residence. In the handsomely appointed library on the second
floor were seated Dr. Bernstein, Mr. Jeffries and the judge. Each was
absorbed in his own thoughts. Dr. Bernstein was puffing at a big black
cigar; the banker stared vacantly into space. The judge, at his desk,
examined some legal papers. Not a word was spoken. They seemed to be
waiting for a fourth man who had not yet arrived. Presently Judge
Brewster looked up and said:
"Gentlemen, I expect Captain Clinton in a few minutes, and the matter
will be placed before you."
Mr. Jeffries frowned. It was greatly against his will that he had been
dragged to this conference. Peevishly, he said:
"I've no wish to be present at the meeting. You know that and yet you
sent for me."
Judge Brewster looked up at him quickly and said quietly yet decisively:
"Mr. Jeffries, it is absolutely necessary that you be present when I
tell Captain Clinton that he has either willfully or ignorantly forced
your son to confess to having committed a crime of which I am persuaded
he is absolutely innocent."
The banker shrugged his shoulders.
"If I can be of service, of course, I--I am only too glad--but what can
I say--what can I do?"
"Nothing," replied the Judge curtly. "But the moral effect of your
presence is invaluable." More amiably he went on: "Believe me, Jeffries,
I wouldn't have taken this step unless I was absolutely sure of my
position. I have been informed that Underwood committed suicide, and
to-night evidence confirming this statement is to be placed in my hands.
The woman who paid him that mysterious visit just before his death has
promised to come here and tell us what she knows. Now, if Captain
Clinton can be got to admit the possibility of his being mistaken it
means that your son will be free in a few days."
"Who has given you this information?" demanded the banker skeptically.
"Howard's wife," answered the judge quietly. The banker started and the
lawyer went on: "She knows who the woman is, and has promised to bring
her here to-night with documentary proof of Underwood's suicide."
"You are depending on her?" he sneered.
"Why not?" demanded the judge. "She has more at stake than any of us.
She has worked day and night on this case. It was she who aroused Dr.
Bernstein's interest and persuaded him to collect the evidence against
Captain Clinton."
The banker frowned.
"She is the cause of the whole miserable business," he growled.
The door opened and the butler, entering, handed his master a card.
"Ah!" ejaculated the judge. "Here's our man! Show him up."
When the servant had disappeared Mr. Jeffries turned to his host. With a
show of irritation he said:
"I think you put too much faith in that woman, but you'll find
out--you'll find out."
Judge Brewster smiled.
"That's our object, isn't it, Mr. Jeffries--to find out?" he said
sarcastically.
"What's the name of this mysterious witness?" exclaimed the banker
testily. "If the police haven't been able to find her why should
Howard's wife be able to do so? There was a report that she herself
was----" He paused and added, "Did she tell you who it was?"
"No," said the judge dryly, "she will tell us to-night."
The banker bounded in his seat.
"You'll see," he cried. "Another flash in the pan. I don't like being
mixed up in this matter--it's a disagreeable--most disagreeable."
Dr. Bernstein puffed a thick cloud of smoke into the air and said
quietly:
"Yes, sir; it is disagreeable--but--unfortunately it is life."
Suddenly the door opened and Captain Clinton appeared, followed by his
_fidus Achates_, Detective Sergeant Maloney. Both men were in plain
clothes. The captain's manner was condescendingly polite, the attitude
of a man so sure of his own position that he had little respect for the
opinion of any one else. With an effort at amiability he began:
"Got your message, judge--came as soon as I could. Excuse my bringing
the sergeant with me. Sit over there, Maloney." Half apologetically, he
added: "He keeps his eyes open and his mouth shut, so he won't
interfere. How do, doctor?"
Maloney took a position at the far end of the room, while Dr. Bernstein
introduced the captain to Mr. Jeffries.
"Yes, I know the gentleman. How do, sir?"
The banker nodded stiffly. He did not relish having to hobnob in this
way with such a vulgarian as a grafting police captain. Captain Clinton
turned to Judge Brewster.
"Now, judge, explode your bomb! But I warn you I've made up my mind."
"I've made up my mind, too," retorted the judge, "so at least we start
even."
"Yes," growled the other.
"As I stated in my letter, captain," went on the judge coolly, "I don't
want to use your own methods in this matter. I don't want to spread
reports about you, or accuse you in the papers. That's why I asked you
to come over and discuss the matter informally with me. I want to give
you a chance to change your attitude."
"Don't want any chance," growled the policeman.
"You mean," said the judge, peering at his _vis à vis_ over his
spectacles, "that you _don't want_ to change your attitude."
Captain Clinton settled himself more firmly in his chair, as if getting
ready for hostilities. Defiantly he replied:
"That's about what I mean, I suppose."
"In other words," went on Judge Brewster calmly, "you have found
this--this boy guilty and you refuse to consider evidence which may tend
to prove otherwise."
"'Tain't my business to consider evidence," snapped the chief. "That's
up to the prosecuting attorney."
"It will be," replied the lawyer sharply, "but at present it's up to
you."
"Me?" exclaimed the other in genuine surprise.
"Yes," went on Judge Brewster calmly, "you were instrumental in
obtaining a confession from him. I'm raising a question as to the truth
of that confession."
Captain Clinton showed signs of impatience. Shrugging his massive
shoulders deprecatingly, said:
"Are we going over all that? What's the use? A confession is a
confession and that settles it. I suppose the doctor has been working
his pet theory off on you and it's beginning to sprout."
"Yes," retorted the judge quickly, "it's beginning to sprout, captain!"
There was a sudden interruption caused by the entrance of the butler,
who approached his master and whispered something to him. Aloud the
judge said:
"Ask her to wait till we are ready."
The servant retired and Captain Clinton turned to the judge. With mock
deference, he said:
"Say, Mr. Brewster, you're a great constitutional lawyer--the greatest
in this country--and I take off my hat to you, but I don't think
criminal law is in your line."
Judge Brewster pursed his lips and his eyes flashed as he retorted
quickly:
"I don't think it's constitutional to take a man's mind away from him
and substitute your own, Captain Clinton."
"What do you mean?" demanded the chief.
"I mean that instead of bringing out of this man his own true thoughts
of innocence, you have forced into his consciousness your own false
thoughts of his guilt."
The judge spoke slowly and deliberately, making each word tell. The
police bully squirmed uneasily on his chair.
"I don't follow you, judge. Better stick to international law. This
police court work is beneath you."
"Perhaps it is," replied the lawyer quickly without losing his temper.
Then he asked: "Captain, will you answer a few questions?"
"It all depends," replied the other insolently.
"If you don't," cried the judge sharply, "I'll ask them through the
medium of your own weapon--the press. Only my press will not consist of
the one or two yellow journals you inspire, but the independent,
dignified press of the United States."
The captain reddened.
"I don't like the insinuation, judge."
"I don't insinuate, Captain Clinton," went on the lawyer severely, "I
accuse you of giving an untruthful version of this matter to two
sensational newspapers in this city. These scurrilous sheets have tried
this young man in their columns and found him guilty, thus prejudicing
the whole community against him before he comes to trial. In no other
country in the civilized world would this be tolerated, except in a
country overburdened with freedom."
Captain Clinton laughed boisterously.
"The early bird catches the worm," he grinned. "They asked me for
information and got it."
Judge Brewster went on:
"You have so prejudiced the community against him that there is scarcely
a man who doesn't believe him guilty. If this matter ever comes to trial
how can we pick an unprejudiced jury? Added to this foul injustice you
have branded this young man's wife with every stigma that can be put on
womanhood. You have hinted that she is the mysterious female who visited
Underwood on the night of the shooting and openly suggested that she is
the cause of the crime."
"Well, it's just possible," said the policeman with effrontery.
Judge Brewster was fast losing his temper. The man's insolent demeanor
was intolerable. Half rising from his chair and pointing his finger at
him, he continued:
"You have besmirched her character with stories of scandal. You have
linked her name with that of Underwood. The whole country rings with
falsities about her. In my opinion, Captain Clinton, your direct object
is to destroy the value of any evidence she may give in her husband's
favor."
The chief looked aggrieved.
"Why, I haven't said a word." Turning to his sergeant, he asked, "Have
I, Maloney?"
"But these sensation-mongers have!" cried the judge angrily. "You are
the only source from whom they could obtain the information."
"But what do I gain?" demanded the captain with affected innocence.
"Advertisement--promotion," replied the judge sternly. "These same
papers speak of you as the greatest living chief--the greatest public
official--oh, you know the political value of that sort of thing as well
as I do."
The captain shrugged his shoulders.
"I can't help what they say about me," he growled.
"They might add that you are also the richest," added the judge quickly,
"but I won't go into that."
Again Captain Clinton reddened and shifted restlessly on his chair. He
did not relish the trend of the conversation.
"I don't like all this, Judge Brewster--'tain't fair--I ain't on trial."
Judge Brewster picked up some papers from his desk and read from one of
them.
"Captain, in the case of the People against Creedon--after plying the
defendant with questions for six hours, you obtained a confession from
him?"
"Yes, he told me he set the place on fire."
"Exactly--but it afterward developed that he was never near the place."
"Well, he told me."
"Yes. He told you, but it turned out that he was mistaken."
"Yes," admitted the captain reluctantly.
The judge took another document, and read:
"In the case of the People against Bentley."
"That was Bentley's own fault--I didn't ask him," interrupted the
captain. "He owned up himself." Turning to the sergeant, he said, "You
were there, Maloney."
"But you believed him guilty," interposed Judge Brewster quickly.
"Yes."
"You thought him guilty and after a five-hour session you impressed this
thought on his mind and he--he confessed."
"I didn't impress anything--I just simply----"
"You just simply convinced him that he was guilty--though as it turned
out he was in prison at the time he was supposed to have committed the
burglary----"
"It wasn't burglary," corrected the captain sullenly.
Judge Brewster again consulted the papers in his hand.
"You're quite right, captain--my mistake--it was homicide, but--it was
an untrue confession."
"Yes."
"It was the same thing in the Callahan case," went on the judge, picking
up another document. "In the case of the People against
Tuthill--and--Cosgrove--Tuthill confessed and died in prison, and
Cosgrove afterward acknowledged that he and not Tuthill was the guilty
man."
"Well," growled the captain, "mistakes sometimes happen."
Judge Brewster stopped and laid down his eyeglasses.
"Ah, that is precisely the point of view we take in this matter! Now,
captain, in the present case, on the night of the confession did you
show young Mr. Jeffries the pistol with which he was supposed to have
shot Robert Underwood?"
Captain Clinton screwed up his eyes as if thinking hard. Then, turning
to his sergeant, he said:
"Yes. I think I did. Didn't I, Maloney?"
"Your word is sufficient," said the judge quickly. "Did you hold it up?"
"Think I did."
"Do you know if there was a light shining on it?" asked the judge
quickly.
At this point, Dr. Bernstein, who had been an attentive listener, bent
eagerly forward. Much depended on Captain Clinton's answer--perhaps a
man's life.
"Don't know--might have been," replied the chief carelessly.
Judge Brewster turned to Dr. Bernstein.
"Were there electric lights on the wall?"
"Yes."
"What difference does that make?" demanded the policeman.
"Quite a little," replied the judge quietly. "The barrel of the revolver
was bright--shining steel. From the moment that Howard Jeffries' eyes
rested on the shining steel barrel of that revolver he was no longer a
conscious personality. As he himself said to his wife, 'They said I did
it--and I knew I didn't, but after I looked at that shining pistol I
don't know what I said or did--everything became a blur and a blank.'
Now, I may tell you, captain, that this condition fits in every detail
the clinical experiences of nerve specialists and the medical
experiences of the psychologists. After five hours' constant
cross-questioning while in a semi-dazed condition, you impressed on him
your own ideas--you suggested to him what he should say--you extracted
from him not the thoughts that were in his own consciousness, but those
that were in yours. Is that the scientific fact, doctor?"
"Yes," replied Dr. Bernstein, "the optical captivation of Howard
Jeffries' attention makes the whole case complete and clear to the
physician."
Captain Clinton laughed loudly.
"Optical captivation is good!" Turning to his sergeant he asked, "What
do you think of it, Maloney?"
Sergeant Maloney chuckled.
"It's a new one, eh?"
"No, captain--it's a very old one," interrupted the lawyer sternly, "but
it's new to us. We're barely on the threshold of the discovery. It
certainly explains these other cases, doesn't it?"
"I don't know that it does," objected the captain, shaking his head. "I
don't acknowledge----"
Judge Brewster sat down. Looking the policeman squarely in the face, he
said slowly and deliberately:
"Captain Clinton, whether you acknowledge it or not, I can prove that
you obtained these confessions by means of hypnotic suggestion, and that
is a greater crime against society than any the State punishes or pays
you to prevent."
The captain laughed and shrugged his shoulders. Indifferently he said:
"I guess the boys up at Albany can deal with that question."
"The boys up at Albany," retorted the lawyer, "know as little about the
laws of psychology as you do. This will be dealt with at Washington!"
The captain yawned.
"I didn't come here to hear about that--you were going to produce the
woman who called on Underwood the night of the murder--that was what I
came here for--not to hear my methods criticised--where is she?"
"One thing at a time," replied the judge. "First, I wanted to show you
that we know Howard Jeffries' confession is untrue. Now we'll take up
the other question." Striking a bell on his desk, he added: "This woman
can prove that Robert Underwood committed suicide."
"She can, eh?" exclaimed the captain sarcastically. "Maybe she did it
herself. Some one did it, that's sure!"
The library door opened and the butler entered.
"Yes, some one did it!" retorted the judge; "we agree there!" To the
servant he said: "Ask Mrs. Jeffries, Jr., to come here."
The servant left the room and the captain turned to the judge with a
laugh:
"Is she the one? Ha! ha!--that's easy----"
The judge nodded.
"She has promised to produce the missing witness to-night."
"She has, eh?" exclaimed the captain.
Rising quickly from his chair, he crossed the room and talked in an
undertone with his sergeant. This new turn in the case seemed to
interest him. Meantime Mr. Jeffries, who had followed every phase of the
questioning with close attention, left his seat and went over to Judge
Brewster.
"Is it possible," he exclaimed, "is it possible that Underwood shot
himself? I never dreamed of doubting Howard's confession!" More
cordially he went on: "Brewster, if this is true, I owe you a debt of
gratitude--you've done splendid work--I--I'm afraid I've been just a
trifle obstinate."
"Just a trifle," said the judge dryly.
Sergeant Maloney took his hat.
"Hurry up!" said the captain, "you can telephone from the corner drug
store."
"All right, Cap'."
Dr. Bernstein also rose to depart.
"I must go, Mr. Brewster; I have an appointment at the hospital."
The judge grasped his hand warmly.
"Thank you, doctor!" he exclaimed, "I don't know what I should have done
without you."
"Thank you, sir!" chimed in the banker, "I am greatly indebted to you."
"Don't mention it," replied the psychologist almost ironically.
He went out and the banker impatiently took out his watch.
"It's getting late!" he exclaimed; "where is this girl. I have no faith
in her promises!"
As he spoke the library door opened and Annie appeared.