“How long had she been in Fairhaven?”
“Just two weeks to a day.”
“You did not visit her in Fairhaven?”
“No, sir.”
“Had there been anybody else around the house that week? Or premises?”
“No, sir, not that I know of.”
“Nobody had access to the house — so far as you know — during that time?”
“No, sir.”
“I ask you once more how it happened that, knowing Mr. Morse was at your house, you did not step in and greet him before you retired.”
“I have no reason. Except that I wasn’t feeling well Wednesday, and so did not come down.”
“No, you were down. When you came in from out.”
“Do you mean Wednesday night?”
“Yes.”
“Because I hardly ever do go in,” Lizzie said. “I generally went right up to my room. And I did that night.”
“Could you then get to your room from the back hall?” Knowlton asked.
“No, sir.”
“From the back stairs?”
“No, sir.”
“Why not? What would hinder?”
“Father’s bedroom door was kept locked, and his door into my room was locked and hooked, I think. And I had no keys.”
“That was the custom of the establishment?”
“It has always been so.”
“It was so Wednesday? And so Thursday?”
“It was so Wednesday. But Thursday, they broke the door open.”
“That was after the crowd came. Before the crowd came?”
“It was so.”
“There was no access, except one had a key. And one would have to have two keys,” Knowlton said.
“They would have to have two keys, if they went up the back way, to get into my room. If they were in my room, they would have to have a key to get into his room, and another to get in the back stairs.”
Knowlton went back to his table. He sorted through the papers there and found the upstairs floor plan one of the police officers had made at the scene.
Studying the sketch, he walked back to the witness chair.
“Where did Mr. Morse sleep?”
“In the guest room, over the parlor in front of the stairs.”
“Right up the same stairs that your room was?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How far from your room?”
“A door opened into it.”
“The two rooms connected directly?”
“By one door, that’s all.”
“Not through the hall?”
“No, sir.”
“Was the door locked?”
“It has been locked and bolted, and a large writing desk in my room kept against it.”
“Then it was not a practical opening.”
“No, sir.”
“How otherwise do you get from your room to the next room?”
“I have to go into the front hall.”
“How far apart are the two doors?”
“Very near. I don’t think more than so far.” She spread her hands.
Knowlton nodded. He went back to his table and found the police sketch of the ground floor of the house. He carried it back with him to the witness chair.
“Where was your father when you came down Thursday morning?” he asked.
“Sitting in the sitting room in his large chair, reading the Providence Journal,” Lizzie said.
“Where was your mother?” Knowlton asked, and then immediately said,”Do you prefer me to call her Mrs. Borden?”
“I had as soon you called her mother,” Lizzie said, and looked him directly in the eye. “She was in the dining room with a feather duster, dusting.”
“When she dusted, did she wear something over her hair?”
“Sometimes when she swept. But not when dusting.”
“Where was Maggie?”
“Just come in the back door with the long pole, brush, and put the brush on the handle, and getting her pail of water. She was going to wash the windows around the house. She said Mrs. Borden wanted her to.”
“Did you get your breakfast that morning?”
“I didn’t eat any breakfast. I didn’t feel as though I wanted any.”
“Did you get any breakfast that morning?”
“I don’t know whether I ate half a banana. I don’t think I did.”
“You drank no tea or coffee that morning?”
“No, sir.”
“And ate no cookies?”
“I don’t know whether I did or not. We had some molasses cookies; I don’t know whether I ate any that morning or not.”
“Were the breakfast things put away when you got down?”
“Everything except the coffee pot. I’m not sure whether that was on the stove or not.”
“You said nothing about Mr. Morse to your father or mother?”
“No, sir.”
“What was the next thing that happened after you got down?”
“Maggie went out of doors to wash the windows, and father came out into the kitchen and said he didn’t know whether he’d go down to the post office or not. And then I sprinkled some handkerchiefs to iron.”
“Tell me again what time you came downstairs.”
“It was a little before nine — I should say about a quarter. I don’t know sure.”
“Did your father go downtown?”
“He went down later.”
“What time did he start away?”
“I don’t know.”
“What were you doing when he started away?”
“I was in the dining room, I think. Yes. I had just commenced, I think, to iron.”
“It may seem a foolish question,” Knowlton said, and smiled. “How much of an ironing did you have?”
“I only had about eight or ten of my best handkerchiefs.”
“Did you let your father out?”
“No, sir. He went out himself.”
“Did you fasten the door after him?”
“No, sir.”
“Did Maggie?”
“I don’t know. When she went upstairs, she always locked the door. She had charge of the back door.”
“Did she go out after a brush before your father went away?”
“I think so.”
“Did you say anything to Maggie?”
“I did not.”
“Did you say anything about washing the windows?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“I think I told her I didn’t want any breakfast.”
“You don’t remember of talking about washing the windows?”
“I don’t remember whether I did or not... I don’t remember it. Yes, I remember. Yes. I asked her to shut the parlor blinds when she got through. Because the sun was so hot.”
Knowlton nodded. The first question he had put to Bridget Sullivan this morning had been in regard to her whereabouts all through the morning of Thursday, August 4, up to the time of the murder. She testified that she’d been doing her regular work in the kitchen on the first floor. She had washed the breakfast dishes. She saw Miss Lizzie pass through the kitchen after breakfast time, and the young lady might have passed through again. She said she had finished up her work downstairs and resumed window washing on the third floor, which had been begun the preceding day. She might have seen Mrs. Borden as she went upstairs; she could hardly remember. Mr. Borden had already left the house.
“About what time did you think your father went downtown?” Knowlton asked.
“I don’t know. It must have been after nine o’clock. I don’t know what time it was.”