Puppet (15 page)

“Can you blame him? It's time that boy unburdened himself in court and told the truth.”

“I don't think that he knows what the truth is anymore.”

She put down her cup.

“The boy must be very frightened not to talk.”

“Mr. Eotvos wants me to talk, Teresa.”

I gulped down some of the hot tea, scalding my tongue and bringing tears to my eyes. Teresa ignored my distress.

“What does the lawyer want you to do?”

“He wants me to testify for the defense. If I do, Warden Henter is sure to fire me. And I can imagine how mad Pa will be. He doesn't care what's true or not. He just hates Jews. I don't know what to do.”

She took the cup out of my hand, put it on the table, and grasped my fingers. The skin of her work-worn hands felt rough but at the same time so comforting.

“You know that I don't have much use for them Jews, Julie,” she said, “but if Morris won't tell the truth, you'll have to. It's the right thing to do. If you don't testify, the Jews will end up in prison or worse. Could you live with that?”

I shook my head.

“Go find Mr. Eotvos,” she said, “and tell him that you'll help him.”

THURSDAY, JULY 26, 1883

I tried to tidy myself as best I could the next morning. I washed my hands and face and a clean kerchief covered my hair. I had put my stiff new shoes on my feet and I even wore the embroidered blouse I reserved for church on Sundays.

It felt strange to be sitting on a bench with the other witnesses in the hall outside of the courtroom and not be skulking inside. Old Mrs. Csordas was on my right and Sophie Solymosi on my left. Sergeant Bako was standing next to us to prevent us from talking to one another.

A gendarme came out of the courtoom. My heart began to beat a rat-a-tat dance.

“It's your turn, Mrs. Csordas,” he said.

I let out a sigh of relief. Mrs. Csordas, resembling an old crow in her black clothing, was escorted into the courtroom.

I was desperate to know what she had to say, but I was sure the judges wouldn't let me hear the other witnesses' testimonies. So I clutched my stomach and began to moan.

“I don't feel well, sir,” I said to Bako. “I'm going to throw up my breakfast!”

He stopped tamping the tobacco in his pipe and looked up in alarm.

“Be gone with you!” He yanked me up from my seat. “Go outside! The fresh air will make you feel better.” He pushed me in the direction of the staircase. “I'll come and get you when it's your turn.”

I sped down the front steps and ran around the building to the side door. I slipped through it and then sat down on the floor behind my usual pillar. If I craned my neck around it, I could see and hear everything.

Mr. Eotvos ambled over to Mrs. Csordas and smiled in a friendly manner. Mrs. Csordas leaned back and responded with a toothless smile.

“I am the chief counsel for the defense,” said Mr. Eotvos. “I'd like to ask you a few questions. How far is your house from the Jews' synagogue?”

“I'm only eight steps away from the Jew church, sir. I can see their front door from my windows.”

“That's mighty close,” said Mr. Eotvos. “I guess you are able to hear everything that goes on there.”

“Yes, sir, I do. Them Jews can be mighty loud.”

“As we all can be sometimes. Mrs. Csordas, you testified to Mr. Bary the investigating magistrate, that you heard a
child shouting in the synagogue during the afternoon Esther Solymosi disappeared. You said that these shouts seemed to be coming from underground. You also told Mr. Bary that the Jews left their synagogue later than usual on that day. They went home after twelve o'clock noon and not at eleven o'clock as on other Saturdays. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir, that's what I told Mr. Bary, but I might have gotten my facts a smidgen wrong.”

“What do you mean? You swore on the Holy Bible to tell the truth.”

“I'm an old woman, sir. I was sick that day and my sickness addled my brain. I spent the whole day in bed. I didn't see when the Jews left their church. Later on in the evening, it was stuffy in my room, so I opened the window and I could hear a child's voice yelling in the Jews' church.”

“Tell me, Mrs. Csordas, did this child's voice come from underground in the synagogue as you testified to Mr. Bary?”

The woman wrung her hands. “I'm not sure, sir. I'm an old lady.”

Mr. Eotvos stepped closer to her. “Is it possible that this noise came from somewhere else, not from the synagogue, not from underground?”

“It could have, sir.” She sighed in a pathetic manner.

The lawyer suppressed a smile. “So you are not certain where the noise came from?”

“No, I'm not.”

“The noise you heard — are you sure that it was a child shouting?”

“I don't know … maybe.”

“Ah, you're not sure of that either,” Mr. Eotvos said, looking at the judges triumphantly. They stared back at him, their solemn expressions hiding their thoughts.

Mr. Eotvos was silent for a moment. He picked up a pencil from the defense table and began to tap it against his lips, as if he had forgotten about everyone around him. Mrs. Csordas squirmed nervously in her seat until he lowered the pencil.

“What time did you hear these noises?” he asked.

“I don't know exactly, sir, but it was already dusk.”

Mr. Eotvos fixed his eyes on the judges again.

“Long after the alleged murder is supposed to have taken place,” he declared.

He turned back to Mrs. Csordas and gave her a stern look.

“Now, Mrs. Csordas, listen to me, please.”

“I am, sir.”

“Did you look out of the window in your house that faces the synagogue between eleven o'clock in the morning and twelve noon on the day Esther Solymosi disappeared? Think carefully before answering.”

“Yes, sir, I looked out of my window at that time.”

“If you were so sick, why did you get out of your bed just to spy on your neighbors?”

“Oh no, sir! I wasn't spying! I had to go to the outhouse real bad, sir!”

The onlookers in the courtroom burst into laughter. Mr. Eotvos himself was biting his lip in order to maintain a solemn expression.

“Silence in the court!” Judge Korniss waved his gavel. “Silence or I'll clear the court!”

Reluctantly, everybody settled down. Mr. Eotvos turned back to the old woman.

“Mrs. Csordas, you're telling us that you looked out of your window facing the synagogue the morning Esther Solymosi disappeared?”

“Yes, sir, I did, on my way back from the outhouse.”

“What time did this visit to the outhouse take place?”

“Ten or fifteen minutes before noon, sir. The sun was almost overhead.”

“You're certain of this?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“You looked out of your window at the synagogue at this time?”

“I already told you that I did, sir.”

“What did you see?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” The folksy manner disappeared. Mr. Eotvos narrowed his eyes.

“Just what I said, sir. It was quiet. I couldn't hear their infernal Jew prayers. The Jews must have already gone home, sir. There wasn't a single one of them in sight. There was nobody about.”

Mr. Eotvos let her words hang in the air. The onlookers sat expectantly, an audience at a play. Mr. Eotvos wheeled around to Morris.

“The witness Morris Scharf claims that he was standing in front of the synagogue door at the exact time you claim you were looking out your window. Morris states that he was looking through the keyhole of the lock on the synagogue door and observing the murder of Esther Solymosi inside the synagogue at this time. What do you have to say to that?”

“Nothing sir, because the boy wasn't there. There was nobody in front of the Jew church.”

“Are you sure, Mrs. Csordas?”

“Yes, sir, I am. I'll swear on a stack of Bibles if you want me to. There was nobody standing in front of the Jew church. I might be old, but there is nothing wrong with my sight!” She crossed her arms across her chest and scowled.

The back of Morris's neck turned crimson, but he didn't look up.

“I'm sure your eyesight is just fine!” said Mr. Eotvos. “I have no more questions for Mrs. Csordas, Your Honor. I would like to call another witness.”

Suddenly I forgot how to breathe. If I was next, Bako would discover that I wasn't waiting outside.

“I'd like to call Sophie Solymosi,” said Mr. Eotvos.

Another reprieve. I began to breathe again. Mr. Szeyffert shot out of his chair.

“Your Honor,” he addressed the judge, “Sophie Solymosi is a witness for the prosecution.”

“The defense is aware of that,” said Mr. Eotvos. “Never theless, we would like to ask the witness a few questions, Your Honor.”

“Request granted,” mumbled Judge Korniss.

One of the guards led Sophie into the courtroom.

“What is your name?” Mr. Eotvos asked.

Sophie adjusted her wide skirts over her knees and glanced at her mother before speaking.

“You know my name,” she snapped.

“You must answer the defense counsel!” said Judge Korniss.

“I'm Sophie Solymosi.”

“What was your relationship to the victim, Esther Solymosi?” Mr. Eotvos asked. I was struck by the gentleness of his manner.

“Esther was my sister,” said Sophie.

She stared into the air, refusing to look at Mr. Eotvos. The silence in the courtroom was broken by Mrs. Solymosi's sobs.

“When did you last see your sister?” asked Mr. Eotvos.

“The day the Jews killed her!” cried Sophie.

“Your Honor, please instruct the witness to restrict her responses to answering my questions,” said Mr. Eotvos.

“Answer Mr. Eotvos's questions, girl, but keep your opinions to yourself,” said the judge.

“So the last time you saw your sister was the day she disappeared, correct?” asked Mr. Eotvos.

“Yes.”

“Where did you see her?”

“Rosie Rosenberg and I were out walking. We met Esther by the Tisza River.”

“What time did you meet her?”

“It must have been about one o'clock in the afternoon.”

“Are you sure of the time?”

“Yes, sir. We left the Rosenbergs at half past the hour, after we ate our lunch, and must have been walking for at least a half-hour.”

Mr. Eotvos scratched his chin.

“That's strange,” he said in a perplexed voice. “Morris Scharf testified that he witnessed your sister's murder between eleven o'clock and just before noon on that day.”

“I don't care what Morris says. I saw my sister and she was still alive at one o'clock!”

“How was your sister dressed the last time you saw her?”

“I don't remember,” mumbled Sophie.

“Judge, please remind the witness she must answer my questions,” said Mr. Eotvos. “You must tell the truth in court, Sophie,” he added gently.

“Esther wore a red shawl, a white apron and blouse, black skirt and a red, white, and black plaid jacket. She also had her red-striped belt around her waist. She always said it was the prettiest thing she owned.”

“Did she have shoes on?”

“No, although it was very cold for April, she was barefoot. She was freezing, but Mrs. Huri wouldn't let her wear her boots.”

“Did Esther have anything in her hand?”

Sophie looked at the judge. “Do I have to tell him?” she asked.

“Answer him,” said Judge Korniss.

“She was holding a small tin container. I asked her what was in it. She told me it was powdered paint she bought at Kohlmayer's.”

Mr. Eotvos stepped closer to her.

“I am sorry, but I must ask you a few questions that might be painful to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“What was your sister's mood when you saw her? Did she seem happy?”

“No.”

“How do you know that she wasn't happy?”

Sophie pleated and unpleated a fold of her skirt.

“She was crying,” she said so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “She told me how mean Mrs. Huri was to her and how unhappy she was. She said she didn't know how much longer she could go on.”

“That's a lie!” a voice came from the back of the room. It was the unmistakable squawk of Mrs. Huri. “I was always kind to the lazy little witch!”

“Silence!” thundered the judge.

“I told Esther that Mama was trying to find another job for her and then I left her!” cried Sophie. She covered her face with her hands. “I should have stayed with her when I saw how upset she was. I shouldn't have let her go!”

Mr. Eotvos handed his handkerchief to her. She balled it in her fist.

“The Jews killed Esther,” she said. “Esther may have been crying, but the Jews killed her. I just know it!”

“The Jews should hang for what they did to my sister!” Janos Solymosi, his arm around his mother's shoulders, called out. “They should burn in hell for what they did!”

“Be quiet or I'll have you removed from the courtroom,” said Judge Korniss.

“I have no more questions for this witness,” Mr. Eotvos said.

“I suggest we finish for today,” said the judge. “Do you have any other witnesses?”

“Yes, sir,” said Mr. Eotvos. “I would like Julie Vamosi, a friend of the victim, to testify tomorrow.”

“We'll start with Julie Vamosi's testimony tomorrow morning, ten o'clock sharp,” Judge Korniss said.

I ran back to the hall in front of the courtroom as fast as I could. Bako was pacing back and forth.

“You took long enough!” he said. “I was about to come for you!”

I was saved from having to reply by the doors bursting open and the onlookers streaming out of the courtroom.

“Go home, now,” Bako ordered, “but be sure that you're here by ten o'clock tomorrow morning!”

That evening, I knelt by my bed to say my prayers. Though I was exhausted, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Ma and Clara and how much I missed them. I hoped that Ma was happy in heaven.

“Take care of Clara, Ma, until I can look after her,” I whispered. “And, Ma, please, help us to be together again.”

I thought of Morris and his father and decided to put in a good word for them too.

“Ma, please watch out for Morris and his papa. They've suffered so much!”

Once again, for a brief moment, I felt as if Ma was in the room with me. I saw the gentleness in her eyes and I felt the love in her heart. I put my hand out to touch her, but she disappeared. I drifted off to sleep.