The Glass Village полностью

Old Judge Webster said: “When a man is on trial, the law says that he doesn’t have to prove he did not commit the crime, the People have to prove that he did. In other words, as you all know, a man is held to be innocent unless and until he is proved guilty beyond the shadow of a reasonable doubt. The burden of proof is on the People. And proof isn’t a matter of belief, like faith in God Almighty or an opinion about politics. Proof is a matter of fact... We won’t attempt to make ourselves out lily-white angels, ladies and gentlemen; there are very few angels walking the earth. The defendant in this case is a man who, handicapped by being in a strange land and having trouble understanding and speaking our language, nevertheless has tried to make an honest living by the sweat of his hands. The fact that he’s failed, that he’s poor — poorer than any of you here — should not be held against him, any more than you should hold against him his foreign origin or his other outward differences from yourselves... Josef Kowalczyk doesn’t deny that he stole money from Aunt Fanny Adams. In his poverty he was tempted, and he knows now that in yielding to temptation he committed a sin. But even if you can’t find it in your hearts to forgive his stealing, the fact that he stole money from Fanny Adams does not legally prove that he murdered her.

“That is the crux of this case, neighbors of Shinn Corners. Unless the People can lay the murder at his door, you will have to find Josef Kowalczyk not guilty.”

But their doors were shut, locked, and bolted.

So it began.

Ferriss Adams put into the record the statement by Kowalczyk on his capture, relating his arrival at the Adams house before the rain Saturday, Fanny Adams’s offer to feed him if he would split some firewood, and all the rest of his story as he had told it to the Judge and Johnny, including his admission of theft. The statement had been taken down by Elizabeth Sheare in the cellar of the church on Saturday night, and it had been signed by Kowalczyk in a stiff European hand.

Andrew Webster did not contest.

Judge Shinn directed Adams to call his first witness, and Adams said: “Dr. Cushman.”

“Doc Cushman to the stand,” cried Burney Hackett.

A whitehaired old man with a steamy red face and eyes like coddled eggs rose from one of the spectator seats and came forward. Bailiff Hackett offered him a Bible, the old man placed one shaky hand upon it and raised the other, and in guitar-string quavers swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help him God.

He sat down in the witness chair.

“Your full name and title?” said Ferriss Adams.

“George Leeson Cushman, M.D.”

“You reside and practice medicine where, Dr. Cushman?”

“Town of Comfort, Cudbury County.”

“You are the Cudbury County coroner’s medical examiner for Comfort and Shinn Corners and certain other nearby towns, Doctor?”

“I am.”

“Did you examine the body of Mrs. Fanny Adams, ninety-one years of age, of Shinn Corners, on the afternoon of Saturday, July the fifth — this past Saturday, Dr. Cushman?”

“I did.”

“Tell us the circumstances.”

Dr. Cushman jerkily brushed his neck. “Received a phone call ’bout three-twenty P.M. Saturday from Constable Burney Hackett of Shinn Corners, askin’ me to come right off to the Adams house in this village. Told Hackett I couldn’t get away just then, I’d had an office full of patients since one o’clock and was still goin’ strong, was somebody sick? He didn’t say, just said to come soon as I could. I didn’t get away till after five. When I got to the Adams house Constable Hackett took me to a room at the back, off the kitchen, where I saw the body of Fanny Adams layin’ on the floor, her head covered by a towel. I removed the towel. I’d known Fanny Adams all my life, and it was a shock.” Dr. Cushman dabbed at his head nervously. “I determined at once she was dead—”

“At the time you first examined her body, Dr. Cushman, how long would you say she had been dead?”

“’Bout three hours.”

“And your examination took place at what time?”

“’Tween five and five-thirty, thereabouts.”

“Go on.”

“Saw right off it was a case of homicide. Fierce multiple blows on top of the head, compound and complicated fractures of the skull — it was cracked in several places like a dropped squash and the gray matter’d been smashed right into. Worst head injuries I’ve ever seen outside some bad auto accidents.”

“Could these frightful wounds, in your opinion, have been self-inflicted?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Could Mrs. Adams have lingered after being struck?”

“Instantaneous death.”

“What did you do then, Doctor?”

“Phoned the county coroner in Cudbury, then waited beside the body till Coroner Barnwell got there. We agreed an autopsy wasn’t necessary, as the cause of death was so plain to see. I signed the death certificate, then I went back to Comfort leavin’ Coroner Barnwell there.”

“When you first examined the body, Doctor, did you see anything that might have been the weapon lying near the body?”