Fool's Gold (37 page)

‘I would remind you, Mr Brenchley,’ he quavered, ‘that this is not a trial, merely an attempt to get at the truth. If Colonel Cornish has nothing to hide, he will answer the question. Why did you fight this fellow?’

‘Heat of the moment, your honour,’ replied Cornish carefully.

‘Why didn’t you bring him in and hand him over to the marshal?’

‘It seemed simpler to deal with the matter myself, on the spot. No offence to the marshal. Just that I had no desire to be a nine days’ wonder.’

‘An understandable emotion, I’ll allow. And of course,’ he suggested maliciously, ‘if you hadn’t been found with the body by the marshal, then no one would have been any the wiser.’

‘With respect, your honour, you are forgetting Fisher’s men.’ Who, fortunately for him, had hightailed it in Hooper’s wake as soon as they saw the marshal ride in. ‘To do as you are suggesting I’d have had to kill them all. But I did not.’

‘Hear, hear!’ came a voice from the back of the courtroom.

‘Thank you, Colonel Cornish. We may have you back again shortly.’

Alicia watched him return to his seat. Oh, why was he taking such a risk when he could so easily stop the whole thing by putting her on the witness stand?

They put Luis on the witness stand instead. He confirmed the rancher’s story of the kidnap, although he succeeded in confusing the Coroner. Not a difficult thing to do, she concluded.

‘And when Mr McCann rode off with Mrs Owens, and Chen Kai tried to stop him, he shot him. I thought he’d killed him.’

‘This is all getting extremely complicated,’ complained Murray. ‘Marshal McAlpin, can you explain? Who are all these people?’

‘Sir,’ said the marshal patiently. ‘We accept that McCann and Fisher are — were — the same person. And Mrs Owens is the widow who has recently been married to Colonel Cornish.’

‘And this Chenky — he is the coolie who was shot …’

Cornish was on his feet in a flash. ‘Chen Kai-Tsu is my foreman, sir!’ he protested. ‘Not a coolie, but a free man! Free as you or I!’

‘Any more interruptions of this nature, mister, and I’ll hold you in contempt of court! Now call this Chenky, Marshal!’

The Marshal rose uncomfortably to his feet.

‘That ain’t possible, I’m afraid, your honour,’ he said shuffling his feet. ‘This here Chen Key Too dressed the Colonel’s arm only yesterday and, er, well, they was alone together some time.’

‘You mean to say you allowed a potential witness to speak to the defend —’ He cleared his throat hurriedly. ‘That is to say — to speak to Colonel Cornish?’ he demanded irascibly.

‘But this is ridiculous!’ whispered Alicia indignantly. ‘He’s acting as if Jack were on trial!’

‘If the Coroner had his way, he would be!’ muttered Revel. ‘Lamarr’s man may not have cut much ice with the jury, but it looks as if he convinced the Coroner.’

‘I hear Murray’s running for the Senate,’ said the Reverend. ‘He’s trying to make his name without offending anyone. An impossible task!’

McAlpin tried to defend himself. ‘Your honour, I thought a Chinee couldn’t give evidence.’

‘That’s with coolies. I guess free men may be different. Anyways, such matters are at the court’s discretion,’ growled the Coroner. ‘And that means my discretion, mister, not yours!’

McAlpin sat down with a glower and the Coroner angrily gathered up his papers with a grunt and swept out of the courtroom. ‘Court adjourned!’ called the clerk. ‘Reconvene in half an hour!’

Alicia hurried across the room to Cornish’s side, but McAlpin stopped her in her tracks.

‘Let her pass, McAlpin!’ protested the Reverend Cooper. ‘She just wants to see her husband!’

‘Not till this case is over!’ he snapped. ‘I ain’t a-goin’ to get my head bit off again!’

Alicia could have wept as she watched Jack being led off to the office at the back. ‘Clive, go and see him,’ she pleaded. ‘Ask him to let me go on the witness stand!’

Revel wasn’t allowed to see Jack, but he managed to have a word with Crocker just before the inquest resumed.

‘It’s Jack’s wife,’ he said frankly. ‘She’s insistent that you should put her on the witness stand.’

Crocker rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he groaned. ‘I had her in here yesterday with the same demands. Grew very heated. Plucky woman, isn’t she? Damned me and my reputation from here to Texas!’

‘I can imagine!’

‘But it isn’t in my hands,’ he went on. ‘Her husband won’t have it. Ask Brenchley here.’

Brenchley nodded. ‘Says if we go over his head, he’ll dispense with our services altogether. But if we don’t get the verdict we want tomorrow, we’ll go for a retrial and put her on the stand.’

‘The Devil you will!’

‘He won’t get away with this fiddle-faddle about a crippled arm once a good prosecuting attorney gets his teeth into him. But I hope it won’t come to that. I have every faith in the good sense of the Coroner’s jury,’ insisted Crocker, knocking his pipe out as the runner called them back to court. ‘I was watching their faces; they’re with him all the way. Despite all that nonsense in San Francisco, he has the reputation of an upright citizen. And his new wife is well liked. As my wife said, everyone loves a good romance.’

When the inquest resumed, Cornish was called back onto the witness stand.

‘Colonel Cornish,’ began the Coroner, ‘the jury heard allegations earlier that you deliberately set out, for reasons of your own, to kill Fisher. And I have a deposition here says you are a skilled wrestler.’

‘Excuse me, Mr Murray.’ Attorney Crocker rose to his feet. ‘Perhaps Mr Lamarr is not aware,’ he drawled, ‘that he is supposed to give all the legal representatives sight or copy of his deposition?’

There was an outburst of laughter from the body of the court, and a few of the jury were having difficulty keeping a straight face.

‘You come perilously close to contempt, sir!’ said the Coroner, red-faced and blustering. ‘Court Clerk will arrange for you to have a copy, Attorney. Meanwhile I advise the defend — the
witness
— to answer the question.’

‘Your honour,’ said Cornish quietly, ‘for the last five years I have been effectively one-armed, as anyone in California will tell you. Hardly the best qualification for a wrestler.’

‘But you do not deny that it was your throw that killed the man?’

‘No.’

‘And you still maintain you did not intend to kill him?’

‘With one arm against a man his size?’

‘A fluke then, you would say?’

‘An unfortunate accident.’

It went on and on. Kerhouan was called to the stand to give his version of the events in the clearing. It was growing hotter and more airless in the courtroom as Alicia waited to be called, but the call never came. Before she realised what was happening, the Coroner was summing up. She rose in some agitation to her feet, but Revel pressed her back in her seat. ‘Leave it, Alicia,’ he warned.

‘And so, gentlemen of the jury, you have a difficult decision to make. There are two possible stories, quite distinct, and you must decide which you believe. Either you say that Colonel Cornish, believing Fisher to have made off with his woman and killed his servant —’

‘My
wife
, damn you!’ Cornish leapt angrily to his feet. ‘Kidnapped my wife and shot my foreman!’

Crocker was pulling him back into his seat.

‘Oh, don’t, Jack!’ whispered Alicia. ‘Let it pass!’

Letitia’s hands covered hers, clenched in her lap. ‘Don’t worry dear,’ she soothed. ‘Look at the jury. They’re behind Jack all the way.’

‘Sit down, sir! I will not be interrupted!’ shouted the Coroner. ‘You are in contempt of this court!’ He turned back to the jury. ‘Either, I say, you credit that Colonel Cornish, having pursued and rescued his — ah — wife, was foolhardy enough to go on to challenge the deceased to a fight although he had an injured arm, and merely by accident managed to fell him so hard that he broke his neck, or you say that he deliberately murdered Fisher. In the first case you have accidental death, in the second case murder. Now you must retire to consider your verdicts. Is that clear? Any questions before you retire?’

There was a muttering and murmuring from the jury and the oldest member rose hesitantly to his feet. ‘Some of us would like to know, your honour, if we could consider a verdict of justifiable homicide or self-defence?’

‘No. Those are defences to the charge of murder. That’s for a higher court to consider if anyone’s indicted.’

The heat in the courtroom was becoming unbearable. As the jury rose to retire, the Coroner drew out his timepiece.

‘In view of the lateness of the hour, the court will adjourn for today. In view of the possibility of serious charges being brought, Colonel Cornish to be kept in custody.’

*

‘Give Pearl my love,’ said Alicia. ‘I hope she’s feeling better.’

‘But — surely you’re going back?’ said Kerhouan.

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m not leaving Sacramento till this is all sorted out.’

‘Staying with the Coopers?’

‘No. I’m not in the mood for socialising. I have a room at the hotel opposite McAlpin’s and that’s where I’m staying.’ She was not in the least tired. She knew that she would not sleep that night even though she was free at last. Even freedom could be bought too high — at the price of another’s liberty.

She knew what she had to do, but it was not something she could do alone. She waited until some of the crowds had dispersed from the sidewalks, then, wrapped in a black shawl, she slipped out of the hotel and headed for the Leons’ house.

*

Jack Cornish had spent most of the evening pacing up and down the room at McAlpin’s.

‘Does no good!’ Mrs McAlpin chided him, bringing him up his dinner before she and her husband went to join a party at the theatre. ‘All it does is wear out my carpet!’

He wondered how on earth he was going to get through the night. For certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

It was going to be one of Sacramento’s hotter nights. He slopped water from the ewer into the china bowl that stood on the washstand, stripped down to his cotton pants and washed. Then he turned the lamp low and flung himself back on the bed, eyes closed.

There was a footfall on the stairs and the key turned in the lock. The deputy with his coffee.

‘Join me in a cup, Johnson,’ said Cornish wearily as the tray clattered on the table. ‘I’m heart sick of my own company.’

‘I didn’t come for coffee,’ said Alicia softly.

He sat bolt upright on the bed. ‘What the Hell …!’

‘But I’ll pour you a cup if you want one.’

She took off the black shawl that she had wrapped round her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing the dress she’d worn to the courthouse, but a well-worn shirtwaist and a simple black skirt.

‘What’s McAlpin thinking of?’

She took the mug of coffee across to him and pushed it into his hands.

‘He’s not here. I persuaded the deputy to let me bring the coffee.’

‘I didn’t want you to come here,’ he muttered.

‘I know. But don’t send me away, Jack. Not yet awhile.’

He put the mug down so abruptly that the coffee spilled on the table. ‘Why did you come?’ he demanded. She didn’t answer.

‘We won’t discuss the inquest,’ he said brusquely. ‘That’s in the hands of the jury now. But I want you to know that I’ve made provisions …’

‘Hush!’ She moved towards him and put a finger on his lips. Before he could think what she was doing, she had pushed him back on to the bed and sat down beside him. She reached up a tentative hand and gently touched his face, tracing the bruises that still shadowed his cheekbones.

‘I was so frightened for you,’ she murmured.

‘And I — when I heard you were gone!’

She slid along the bed until her thigh was touching his. Then she nestled closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Before he could think what he was doing his arms were round her waist and he was holding her close. Alicia turned her face up to his.

He lowered his head and kissed her softly on the lips, a kiss that started out gentle, tentative, and became more and more passionate. Then, as she relaxed into his embrace, he came abruptly back to his senses.

‘You’d better go now.’ He rose jerkily from the bed.

‘No,’ she said softly.

‘But Johnson …’

‘Don’t worry about Johnson. He’s been well paid. Señor Leon saw to that. We won’t see him until the dawn.’

‘Alicia! You can’t stay here! For God’s sake, girl, I’m not made of iron.’ He turned away from her and crossed to the window.

When at last he turned back to her, his hands clenched rigidly at his side and words of reason on his lips, her gloves lay on the table and she was unpinning her hat.

‘Alicia, you’ll regret this in the morning.’

‘No,’ she said softly. ‘No regrets any more. You have given me back my life. I want to live it.’

‘But not this way. You don’t owe me anything … I’d have done the same for anyone.’ He swallowed hard. ‘You have your freedom now,’ he said with an effort. ‘Didn’t Brenchley tell you? Valley Hall is yours.’