I saw the incredible smile that played on the face of the prosecutor.
“That will do, Mr. Thompson,” Kirkpatrick announced, and I passed out of the stuffy room into the corridor. Wicks had returned and was standing with Mary. They looked at me with wide and anxious eyes.
Mary saw the droop in my shoulders and caught my arm.
“What happened, Warren?” she asked.
“Nothing yet,” I responded.
“Are they going to——?”
“I don't know, I don't know.”
Tears welled up in Mary's eyes. “Oh, Warren, that man was terrible!”
“What man?” I asked.
“The man who asked me all the questions,” Mary sobbed. “There wasn't anything he didn't ask me.”
“Did he ask you about the conversation between Helen and Jim?”
“He asked me everything, I tell you!” Mary exclaimed angrily. “He twisted and turned everything I said into something horrible.”
Discouraged, I led the way to the car. I drove out into the country, thinking the fresh air might quiet Mary's nerves. Twice I tried to start a conversation about some trivial thing, to take her mind off her unpleasant experience of the afternoon, but with no success. It always came back to the jury room. Our drive, for the most part, was a silent one. At length we turned back and as we walked up the steps of Mary's home, her father came from the house with a newspaper in his hand.
“This is terrible, Warren.”
“What is it?” I cried, reaching for the sheet.
It was an extra edition of The Press, our only respectable paper. In black head-lines, I read the words:
“SOCIETY LEADER INDICTED FOR
HUSBAND'S MURDER!”
Then underneath in small type:
“Frank Woods, Well Known Business Man, Released on $10,000 Bail.”
Helen and Frank Woods had both been indicted.
CHAPTER TWELVE. WHO AM I
I jumped into the automobile and drove as fast as I could to the offices of Simpson and Todd, the best criminal lawyers in the state, to retain them as council for Helen. Simpson had already gone home, but George Todd was there, and I talked the case over with him.
“You can get a stay of proceedings, can't you?” I asked.
“Surely,” he replied. “I'll see that the warrant isn't served until Mrs. Felderson's doctor assures me she is out of danger. The trial needn't come off for three or four months—six if you wish. We can see to that. In the meantime, when will you be able to see Mrs. Felderson?”
“I was going up there now,” I answered. “The chances are the doctor won't let me question her yet, but it may be we can see her. Will you come with me?”
“I'd like very much to. Wait till I get my coat!”
We ran up to the hospital and asked if we could be admitted if only for a few moments to Mrs. Felderson's room. Johnson, the little interne with the glasses, had just come in, and when he heard my request he was splutteringly indignant.
“What the devil do you think Mrs. Felderson is suffering from, a broken ankle? Don't you realize she has been desperately ill? If you tried to question her now, she'd become excited and it might result in a serious relapse. Of course you can't see her! You won't be able to talk to her for two or three weeks yet.”
“I'm sorry,” I said, “I should have known better. It was stupid of me, but then, I've been little else than stupid for days. This tragedy has been too much for me. You will let me know as soon as she can be seen, won't you, Johnson?”
“I'll let you know,” he murmured. “You may be able to see her to-morrow, but I won't let you bother her with any infernal questions until she is well.”
The week passed only too slowly. Each day I went to the hospital and sat for a brief fifteen or twenty minutes by Helen's side. She was fully conscious and I thought I could see at times that there were questions she wanted to ask me. Remembering the doctor's emphatic instructions, I said very little, never asking any questions, only telling her a few of the unimportant happenings of the town. She seemed uninterested and lay apathetically quiescent except when some apparently perplexing question corrugated her brows. They told her of Jim's death early in the week, but far from being shocked, she had appeared almost indifferent, showing only too plainly how little he meant in her life. Woods she never referred to.
Mary, of course, was her devoted slave, hardly leaving her bedside, and in our daily meetings at the hospital, I fell more and more in love with her, if such a thing were possible. Once when I was coming up the corridor with a large bunch of flowers, I met her outside Helen's door. As she took the blooms from me, she reached up and patted my cheek.
“Bupps, you're a darling to bring these lovely flowers to Helen every day. I think you're quite the nicest brother a girl could have.”
“If you think that, why won't you have me?” I asked.
“I think I will——” she answered, smiling, “for a brother.”
She started to open the door, but I grasped her hand.
“Mary, do be serious! You know I love you.”
She haughtily drew herself up in all the majesty of her five feet three inches and commanded: “Unhand me, villain! I spurn your tempting offer.” Then earnestly, “Let me go, Bupps! I've got to put these flowers away.”
With a quick wrench she freed herself and was gone, leaving me half sick with love of her.
After the first sensational extra, the newspapers had said but little of Helen's and Frank's indictment. Somehow I was confident that Helen would be able to clear herself. Woods had published a statement in which he said he would be able to prove where he was every minute of the evening of the tragedy, and so had had no difficulty in finding bail. In fact, since the indictment, he seemed to have gained a good deal of sympathy and popularity. Every one who knew of his devotion to Helen felt that he had indicted himself to try to save her.
One morning, about a week after my interview with the be-spectacled interne, I met Doctor Forbes as he was coming from Helen's room and he gave me permission to ask her a few questions.
“I'm trusting to your good sense, Thompson, not to overdo it,” Forbes cautioned. “Remember, she is still in a very weak condition and don't be surprised if she fails to respond to your questions as you expect. Above all things, do not refer in any way to the fact that she has been indicted, the shock might be too much for her.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I replied, eager to get away, “I'll be very careful.”