Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 196, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 August 1920 — The House Whispers [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The House Whispers

By William Johnston

CHAPTER XXII I—Continued. —ls—- — sense of shame nor of guilt possessed ma J was aware of having lotto wrong to no one. A clear conscience kept assuring me that it was insifortune and not error on my part that had brought me here. At every point in the strange chain of circumstances I felt that I had acted as a nn of honor should have acted. My sense of Innocence upheld me even though the del I berate malicious plotting of evil men might make it appear to the Judge, to the jurors, to the whole world that I was a murderer. Even though I should be sentenced to death for killing a woman I never had seen the knowledge that at every point I had done what I still believed to have been right, brought me strong comfort and filled me with new courage. Yet It was with lack of Interest that X listened to the monotonous questioning that formed a part of the selection of a Jury. “So far as I am concerned," I had said to my counsel in our last chat, “any soft of a Jury will do. Unless we succeed In upsetting the evidence against me with a crash that all the world can hear it makes no difference."

“I guess you are right,” he answered, despondently, it seemed to me, “and if the worst happens, wealways can take an appeal.” His reply convinced me that he, too, was anticipating the result, which I long ago had decided to be the only outcome, unless something unforeseen happened—a verdict against me of murder in the first degree. I heard, almost with amusement, the district attorney, with eloquent ' oratory, tell Jury the crimes he expected to prove against me, even smiling a little at the picture he painted of a gangster seeking employment in an apartmept occupied by families of wealth that he might find opportunities for plundering them, and when he was surprised in the midst of his burglarizing, brutally choking the unprotected woman whose home he was despoiling and then as she lay there, helpless and Insensible, shooting her through the heart In fact I quite agreed with all he said, even to his most strenuous adjectives—except for the one sact — that I knew I was not the man he was talking about It had been a brutal, cowardly murder, and I was fully as anxious as. the district attorney could possibly be to see the miscreant who had killed Miss Lutan brought to book. The testimony that was to come, I devoutly hoped, would give some clue that would lead to the unmasking of the real murderer. The first witness called was one of the detectives who had arrested me. He told concisely, as though repeating a well rehearsed story, of having been summoned to the Granddeck and finding there the body of Daisy Lutan. He said that she had been shot “through the heart. “Was there anyone In the apartment when you arrived?” “Yes, a doctor.” “Anyone else?” “Yes, Mr, Wick, the superintendent of the apartment, and the prisoner.” “What did they say? How did they explain their presence there?” “They said they had heard a shot and had come in to investigate." He told of examining the body, questioning the physician and of making a search of the apartment for the murderer, but finding no one else there.

“What did you do then?” “My partner and I followed the prisoner to his apartment and placed him under arrest. We searched his room and in the dresser I found a revolver with one chamber recently discharged.” “What made you suspect Nelson? Why did you arrest him?" "My partner and I talked it over, and we both were of the opinion that ft was an inside Job. A burglar would hit vp no chance to get into a building like the Granddeck and make his get-* away. It was between the superintendent of the building, who was a man of responsibility, and this young fellow —who was only a caretaker." “Had anything in Nelson’s actions made you suspicious of him?” "I noticed that ha was greatly excited."

“Anything else?” “After Nelson had gone upstairs to his own apartment, I questioned Mr. Wick. t He said he had been in the elevator when he beard the shot. He had gotten out at the fifth floor, where it seemed to have come from. At the door at Miss Lutau's apartment he had found the prisoner.” , “That’s all,” said the district attorMy attorney waived cross-examina-tion. The second detective was put on the stand and corroborated bis partoer** evidence in every respect. Both

nlcal description of the bullet wound, and the prosecution put in evidence the bullet extracted from the body and the revolver the detectives bad found, pointing out that they were of the same caliber. “Call Mr. Wick." said the district attorney. W I leaned forward to listen to every word of Wick’s testimony. In fact from the moment he was brought In I never took my eyes from him. It would be black enough for me if he merely stated the facts as they actually had happened, but I doubted If be would be content with that If, as I felt certain, Wick was in the employ of the conspirators, it was more than likely that they would seek to clinch the case against me with his testimony. He gave his name, James Wick, and his occupation as superintendent of the Granddeck.

“How long have you been employed there?" “Ever since the building was opened." - “Where were you employed previously ?” - Wick hesitated. I. wondered if Gorman’s surmise that he had been in prison were true, what he would say. “Before that,” he stammered, “I was in the employ of Mr. Kent in the West." “Who is Mr. Kent?” “He owns the Granddeck. He had known me for years. He brought me on when he built this building." While his answer seemed to satisfy the district attorney, I was convinced from Wick’s nervousness that he was concealing something, that further questioning into his past might lead to unexpected developments. “Are you acquainted with the defendant?” “Very slightly.” “How long have you known him?” I. was listening intently. Would he admit knowing that I was a relative of old Rufus Gaston? “I don’t really know him," Wick explained. “I’ve seen him two or three times. Mr. Gaston, one of my tenants, told me that he was going away and that he had given the key of his apartment to a young man named Nelson whom he had employed as caretaker. He said that the caretaker would arrive at ten o’clock on the Sunday morning that the Gastons went away.” “And did the defendant arrive at that time—at the time he was expected ?” \ “He did not What first attracted my attention to him was that he sneaked Into the building earlier than he was expected.”

“You say he sneaked in,” the district attorney’s voice expressed a proper horror of such conduct. “Please explain to the jury what you mean by that." . “Instead of announcing- his arrival, he watched his chance and waited till one of the tenants was coming in. He slipped in beside her and went

up in the elevator without being announced. Naturally the elevator man thought he was a friend of the young lady tenant” “How do you know be was not a friend of the young woman with whom he entered the building?” “I asked him if he was acquainted with her, and he said he was. Later that same day she passed him in the ball of the building. I noticed that she did not speak to him or recognize him in any way.” The prosecutor waved his hand to the Jury as if to say, “You see, gentlemen,” and followed on with another question. “Was the defendant’s conduct in the building in any other way such as to arouse your suspicion?" “He'd hardly got located before he began buzzing the telephone girt, asking her all kinds of questions about the other tenants in the building. He kept trying to get her to go out to dinner with Mm."

“Did she got* “I* she did. She reported hie actions to me. and I euggegted that she go with him and try to find out what his name was.’' “What elee do you know about the defendant?" * “That's all —except—” “Except what?" “What I saw on the night Mise Lutan was murdered." - "Tell the circumstances." “l*was in the elevator coming down from the.top floor. I heard the sound of a shot It seemed to come, from the fifth floor. I got off there to investigate. As the door of the Lutan apartment stood Mr. Nelson.” “What was he doing there?” “Just standing there. It looked to me as if he had Just been coming out and that be saw me he had stopped suddenly." “What was his manner? Describe the position in which he was standing to the Jury.” Again there was in the district attorney's voice a triumphant ring. “He was all excited and tremblylike.” Mr. Wick went on, “ahd fils eyes seemed to be bulging out of his head.”- _ _______ “What did he say?” “I asked him if he bad heard a shot and he said that he had. I asked if it had not come from the Lutan apartment and he said that it had seemed so to him. I wanted to keep my eye on him. so I took out my pass-key and suggested that we investigate together. He did not seem at all anx-

ious to go back into the apartment with me; but the elevator man was standing there, so he came along and was with me when I found the body. I kept him ’ there until the police came.” I had expected that my counsel would offer objections to Wick’s testimony, especially to his having said that I did not appear anxious to “go back" Into the apartment, but McGregor contented himself with two questions. “Do you not know that Mr. Spalding Nelson is a grand-nephew of Mr. Rufus Gaston? Did not Mr. Gaston tell you of this relationship?” “He did not,” lied Wick calmly. “How was Mr. Nelson first standing —when you got out of the elevator — when you first saw him?” I recalled my attitude distinctly. I had been standing facing the door, straining my ears to catch any sound in the apartment. When I heard the elevator stopping, I had looked around over my shoulder as Wick emerged. “He was standing?’ said Wick, of his own accord, speaking direct to the jurors, “with his back against the door. One hand—his right hand—was behind him. I thought at first he might have a revolver In it and drew one I always carry, but he had not. It looked as if he had Just slipped out of the door and was reaching behind him to close It when I discovered him.”

“That will be all,” said my counsel, to my great disappointment. Throughout the mixed medley of truth and lies that WlCk had been telling, there had been manifest to me his deliberate purpose to discredit me and cast suspicion on me. I felt certain that an abler lawyer could quickly have riddled his testimony, bgt McGregor showed no disposition to take advantage of his opportunity. Nellie Kelly was called. Briefly she told of her job—switchboard operator at the Granddeck. She corroborated Wick’s story of .my first arrival at the Granddeck and bore out his statements about my having chatted with her and also told of having gone to dinner with me. When I had begun questioning her about other tenants, she said, she excused herself and went to the telephone and called up the Granddeck for advice as to how she should answer. For some reason, she said, when she returned after phoning, the defendant had not questioned her further but had seemed anxious to get away from the restaurant. ' “You say," said McGregor, as he began her cross-examination, “that your name is Nellie Kelly. Is that your real name?" My counsel’s unexpected question pajue as a thunderbolt to the opposition. The whole courtroom seemed to sense that something crucial wks about to be brought out The Jurors to a man leaned forward to listen for her answer. The district attorney, plainly puzzled, half rose in his seat and then subsided. Wick’s face went white, and the girt herself started and her eyes turned helplessly to Wick, as if seeking instructions as to how to answer.

“la that your real name?* McGregor repeated, thia time a little more emphatically. “It la—that la—lt was,” she stammered. "It was your name,” said McGregor sarcastically, “and what might be your name now?" _ “My name,” the girl hesitated. as If struggling with herself, and then casting a defiant look In Wick’s direction. she answered with pride rather than with boldness, “my name is Mrs. Edward Moore.” “The wife of Lefty Moore, the burglar tn Sing Sing, you mban, do you not?" sneered McGregor. “I am," she replied with a proud lifting of her chin and a flash in her eye. “I'm Lefty Moore’s wife, and I’m proud that I am—his lawfully wedded wife and I don’t care who knows it I love Lefty Moore.— There was Instant consternation In the district attorney’s camp. With visions of discredited testimony confronting him, he was on bls feet roaring objections. Throughout the whole courtroom there was a sibilant stir, and the judge began rapping for order. „ Close behind my counsel my mother bad been sitting, accompanied by some woman wearing a heavy veil. I had paid little attention to her hitherto, supposing that it was some hotel maid whom my mother had hired to accompany her to court, for so far as I knew my mother had no women acquaintances in New York. This woman now, to my amazement, reached forward and plucked McGregor by'the sleeve* As she pushed back her veil to whisper ts him, to my utter surprise and consternation I saw that it was Barbara Bradford. How had Barbera come to be sitting there in court at my mother’s side? Delighted as I was at seeing her, I was puzzled and perplexed. I had sternly forbidden both Gorman and McGregor from making any plans to call her as a witness. I had urged her to keep silent not become involved in any way in the case. My eyes sought hers for an explanation, but after that one whispered word, that I was unable to hear, she had quickly drawn her veil over her face. “Your honor,” said McGregor, rising, “in view of this unexpected-testi-mony, I should like to request a recess." “Granted,” said the judge. “Adjourned until two o’clock.”

CHAPTER XIV. Impatiently I waited for the recess to be over. I could not understand what was happening. Neither Gorrpan nor my counsel came near me. Even my mother made no attempt,' so far as I could learn, to see me. The one glimpse I had had of Barbara there in the courtroom had.fired me again with wild desires to see her. My feelings were equally between hoping she would and hoping she would not make any effort to reach me—at least not until my trial was over. That something was happening to keep them all away—something perhaps vital to my freedom —I was certain. On no other ground could I explain the fact of none of them seeking me for consultation. Yet what it might be I coulcl not possibly conjecture. Eagerly I hurried into the courtroom again as soon as the recess was over, at once turning my eyes to see if the girl I loved was there. Quickly I located her still sitting beside my mother. Her veil now was boldly thrown back, and as she gazed at me with sparkling and a confident smile, I felt sure that across the distance slie was trying to send some message of good tidings. My mother’s face, too, I observed, now wore a happier look, and about Gorman and McGregor both was an air of greater confidence than either had manifested before. What had happened? What had they found out? Eagerly I waited developments. The telephone girl was recalled to the stand and her -cross-examination resumed. “Mrs. Moore,” began McGregor—and I observed curiously that his voice in addressing, her no longer was harsh and .sarcastic but merely suave and impelling—“you have testified here as a witness against 'Mr. Spalding Nelson, accused of having murdered Daisy Lutan. have you not?" (TO BE CONTINUED.)

I Leaned Forward to Listen to Every Word of Wick’s Testimony.

Is That Your Real Name?"