“What happened?”
“They laughed at me. Said I didn’t mean it. I was an old man, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Walsh shrugged. “Well, I was stuck. I didn’t know what to do. If they wouldn’t leave, I couldn’t make ‘em. I mean, I could have started legal proceedings to have ‘em evicted, but I figured that would be playing right into their hands. Only a crazy man would try to get the law to throw his relatives out of his own house. If I instituted proceedings, they’d use the fact that I’d done so to try to get me certified insane.
“So I couldn’t do that. But I couldn’t live in the same house with them, not under those circumstances. So I thought it over and decided if they weren’t going to leave, I would.”
Walsh stopped and shook his head. “That was an awfully galling situation. I mean, it was my house, damn it. Why should I go and let them stay?
“So I figured there was only one thing to do. I’d sell the house out from under them. I hated to do it, but I couldn’t live with them, and I was damned if I was going to let them run me out and leave them in charge.”
Walsh shrugged. “So I sold the house.”
Judge Washburn nodded. “And went to live on the subway?”
Walsh made a face. “What, are you nuts? Why should I live on the subway?”
Judge Washburn frowned. “Mr. Walsh, we have the testimony of Jason Tindel and Fred Grayson that you told them you were going to live on the subway. Is that true?”
“Yes, I did. And if you wanna declare me insane for making a facetious remark, I suppose you have the right to do so.”
“Are you saying-”
“Yes I am. I made a wisecrack. A stupid remark. If they took it seriously, it shows how bright they are.
“When I sold the house they were hysterical. They were all over me. ‘You can’t do that. Are you crazy? Where are you going to live?’ I said, I don’t know, I don’t care, I’d rather live on the subway with the bums than in this house with you.’ It was a flippant remark and they took it for gospel. What can I tell you?”
“You’re saying you don’t live on the subway?”
“Of course not.”
“Where do you live?”
“I got a room at the Holiday Inn on 57th Street. I had it ever since I sold the house. I didn’t know how long I’d need it for, so I booked it for a year.” Walsh shrugged. “Little expensive, but I got the money.”
Franklyn struggled to his feet. “Your Honor, this comes as a bit of a surprise. There is no evidence in this case that this man has ever had a room anywhere, and-”
Judge Washburn held up his hand. “Sit down, Mr. Franklyn. Your surprise is noted. This will of course be checked out.”
Judge Washburn turned back to the witness. “Mr. Walsh, you say you’ve been staying at the Holiday Inn on 57th Street?”
“That’s right.”
“You have a key for the room?”
“Not on me. I leave it with the desk.”
“Your possessions are in that room?”
“My immediate possessions. Most of my stuff is stored in a warehouse in Brooklyn. My necessities are at the Holiday Inn.”
“Yet, Mr. Walsh, we have the testimony of Jason Tindel to the fact that he ran into you in the street, and without your knowledge, he followed you to see where you would go. And on that occasion you went down in the subway and took up residence with the homeless there. What do you say to that?”
Walsh grinned. “What Jason Tindel don’t know would fill a book. Without my knowledge, did you say? On that occasion, as you call it, I spotted Jason Tindel well before he spotted me. When I saw he was spying on me, I must admit I decided to yank his chain a bit. He wanted to see how I was living. Well, I told him I was living on the subway, so let him think I was. As soon as he started following me, I went down in the subway and started talking to the homeless there. I knew it would drive him nuts.”
“And the time you were taken to Bellevue?”
“Same thing. Fred Grayson saw me in the street. Started tagging along. So I led him down in the subway. What I didn’t know was that they’d already been in cahoots with a shrink and had commitment papers drawn. Evidently while I was down there Fred Grayson called for reinforcements, Jason Tindel rounded up the Bellevue orderlies, and you know the rest.”
“I see,” Judge Washburn said. “There is another allegation, Mr. Walsh, that you drew out close to two hundred thousand dollars from your bank account, and that you have been wandering around with the money on you in cash.”
“Oh yeah?” Walsh said. “Funny the shrinks at Bellevue didn’t mention it. Now I admit those guys are not very swift, but you’d think if I’d checked in there with two hundred grand on me, even they would have noticed it.”
“You do not have two hundred thousand dollars in cash?”
“Of course not.”
“You withdrew it from the bank.”
“Yes, I did. I did it so these fine gentlemen here couldn’t freeze my bank account and keep me from using my own money. But carry it on me? Don’t be silly. I merely switched banks. I have a new account with Chase Manhattan. You can check with them.
“You also might check with my stockbroker. Two hundred grand’s chicken feed. Most of my money’s in stocks and bonds. If you check with my broker you’ll find I made almost that much this year playing the stock market.
“But don’t tell the guy you’re thinking of declaring me incompetent. Poor guy might have a stroke. I’m his biggest source of income.”
“I see,” Judge Washburn said. “And, uh, the manner in which you’re dressed?”
“Is my own damn business. It happens to be a free country and I can dress as I like. I got this coat at Good Will. It’s warm and fits me fine.
“And I like it. You know why I like it? I dress this way, and no one thinks I got any money. Nobody bothers me. If you never had money, you don’t know what that’s like. I’m tired of people hassling me about money, so I dress like I ain’t got it and they leave me alone.”
Walsh’s eyes gleamed. He grinned and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “And, I must admit, I do it to irritate them. To stick the knife in.
“But I’m sorry about all this. I’m particularly sorry I had to tell you about my room at the Holiday Inn. Now I’ll have to give it up. Move. Now they know where I live, I can’t live there no more.” Walsh shook his head. “Bit of a shame, that.”
Judge Washburn took a breath, blew it out again. Thought a moment. “Can you tell me the address of your branch bank? And the name of your broker?”
Walsh told him and the judge wrote it down.
“Very well,” Judge Washburn said. “I’m going to take a brief recess. If the parties will please remain in court, this should only take a few minutes.”
Judge Washburn went through the door in the back of the courtroom into his chambers. He was back ten minutes later and resumed his place on the bench.
“Let us proceed,” Judge Washburn said. “During the recess I’ve been on the phone with the Chase Manhattan Bank, where Mr. Walsh does indeed have an account. I have also been on the phone with his broker. Also the Holiday Inn.
“These phone conversations bear out Mr. Walsh’s testimony entirely. According to his broker, Mr. Walsh is not only competent to carry out his business, he’s most extraordinarily adept at it.
“The court is now going to rule. The court finds no basis whatsoever for considering Mr. Walsh incompetent. The court feels that attempts to incarcerate him and have him declared incompetent have not been for his own good or to save him from himself, but were motivated purely out of personal gain.
“Furthermore, the court finds no valid reason for said incarceration. And finds the explanation of Dr. Feldspar inadequate at best.”
Judge Washburn fixed Dr. Feldspar with a cold glare. “And you, Doctor, will have an opportunity to appear before me to show cause why I should not consider your failure to respond to the habeas corpus and to produce the petitioner at this hearing to be contempt of court.