Chapter 5

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"Rise and shine, pretty boy."

Andrew opened his eyes. He knew before he opened them that the nightmare had been real, by the narrow cot and thin pillow he had slept on. And, notably, he was still in his clothes from yesterday, without fresh clothes to change into.

He began putting his boots back on. "What time is it?" His wallet and pocket watch had been confiscated when he'd arrived, and the cellblock area didn't have a clock. The only real way to tell time was by the position of the sun outside the windows.

"Breakfast."

It wasn't long before the deputy sheriff entered with a tray containing two plates filled with eggs, bacon, and a biscuit for his two prisoners.

"Coffee?" he offered Andrew after pouring Lloyd a cup.

"Please."

Hardy stepped up with the pot, and Andrew held his cup up through the bars.

"Thank you." Andrew took a swallow and grimaced.

Observing his reaction, Hardy noted, "Didn't say it was good coffee."

"What time does the lawyer arrive?"

"Depends," came the answer as Hardy poured himself a cup. "Sometimes it's first thing, other times it's after court." The deputy gestured in Lloyd's direction. "It's his turn this morning. So, Moreland will get to you after."

Andrew nodded and took another sip of coffee. Like the jerky yesterday, it was better than nothing.

This time the deputy remained in the cell block while his prisoners ate, sipping his coffee as he waited for the pair to finish. After collecting their empty plates through the bars, Hardy unlocked the door to Lloyd's cell. "All right, Lloyd, let's go."

"See ya, pretty boy," Lloyd said in parting.

Andrew was alone after that. He wished he had something to read to occupy his time. At the next opportunity with Hardy, he'd ask for a newspaper. But in the absence of anything else to do, he began mentally recounting the bones in the body.

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Sometime later, when Andrew was in the middle of reviewing the digestive system, Hardy returned. "You're turn," he said, unlocking the cell door.

Andrew quickly stood. "What happened with Lloyd?" he asked as he left the cell.

Hardy paused and looked at Andrew oddly. "Aren't you the curious one?" He led Andrew out of the cell block and over to a doorway which led to a small, whitewashed room. At first glance it looked like an ordinary room, with a table, two chairs, and a small table with a lamp on it. However, the bars affixed to the lone window belied the room's ordinariness. "Hey, Moreland, how'd Lloyd do today?" Hardy asked the room's occupant.

A man in his forties with wavy brown hair, clean shaven except for a mustache, answered the question. "Lucky Lloyd wasn't so lucky. Got three years in prison for being a repeat offender."

Hardy left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Andrew alone with Moreland.

"Ned Moreland, public defender," said the lawyer, extending his hand for a handshake. "Please, Mr. Cummings, have a seat."

"Actually, my name's Cook. Dr. Andrew Cook."

"Really? That's your scheme this time, selling cure-alls to unsuspecting patients?"

Andrew's patience had worn thin. "Great, now my own lawyer doesn't believe me. Why won't anyone believe me?"

"Because doubt is the name of the game, my friend. Doubt about what was seen, what was heard. Doubt about who's telling the truth and who is telling a version of the truth. I make my living by creating doubt in the judge and jury's minds. Introduce enough doubt of your guilt, and they have to let you go."

"Even when the person you're defending is guilty? Not that I'm guilty, mind you. I'm completely innocent. I might resemble the man on the Wanted poster, but I assure you I am not him."

"So, you're claiming this is a case of mistaken identity?"

"Until yesterday, I had never heard of this Cummings fellow, never knew he even existed. In fact, until last month, I'd never set foot in the Colorado Territory."

Moreland thought a moment. "Well, then, young man, let's start at the beginning. Tell me a bit about yourself and how you came to set foot in the Colorado Territory."

"You… you believe me? But a moment ago…"

"I didn't say I believe you. I need to hear more before I make that determination. So, please, tell me your story."

Andrew hesitated, then realized he had nothing to lose. If the man still didn't believe him after hearing the truth, he could take Hardy's advice and request another lawyer.

Andrew told his story about growing up in Boston, graduating medical school, Mrs. Quinn's offer to deliver her daughter's baby, and coming out west to temporarily run the clinic in Colorado Springs. Moreland asked questions along the way, jotting down notes. He was most interested in the fact that Andrew had performed an operation, not something an ordinary imposter would be able to accomplish.

"Have I convinced you that I'm not a criminal?" Andrew asked when he was finished.

"You seem genuine enough, and it sounds like there's enough evidence to create doubt in the prosecutor's case. I can verify your credentials with Harvard, and the operation you said you performed will also help prove you're not a quack. But I'll have to be honest with you, Doc. The prosecutor gets to go first. Because of your strong resemblance, he's going to bring in a number of witnesses who will testify that you are the man on the Wanted poster and that it was you who swindled them out of their money. They will all be convinced of your guilt, and that initial impression might be tough for some jurors to overcome. It will be my job to convince them otherwise."

"Yes, I'm familiar with how a trial works."

"So, you won't mind if I contact your parents and put them on the stand?"

"No!" Andrew exclaimed. "You can't bring my family out here."

Moreland frowned. "They are aware you're here in Colorado Territory, aren't they?"

"Yes, of course. But…" Andrew swallowed, not wanting to admit this part, "this is the first time I've been able to be on my own. Make my own decisions. How will it look if after only a month I need my parents to come to my rescue? It'd be humiliating."

"As humiliating as possibly going to prison?" Moreland paused to let that sink in. "Look, why don't you sleep on it? I'll see you in court in the morning, you can give me your answer then."

"The trial starts tomorrow?" The reality of the situation hit Andrew hard.

"No, we have your arraignment. If I'm going to ask for a continuance to allow time for witness travel, I need to ask for it then. Of course, the prosecutor may ask for that anyway for his case, but if he doesn't, I like to be prepared." Moreland gathered his papers and stood, as did Andrew. "Dr. Cook, it's been a pleasure meeting you," said the lawyer, extending his hand. "And I don't say that about all my clients. Trust me."

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Sometime after his lunch of stew and cornbread, Andrew was taken into the same small room as before.

"Matthew. Reverend. Am I glad to see you," said Andrew, shaking hands with the two men.

"Andrew. How you holding up?" asked Matthew.

"As well as can be expected, I guess. I really hope you can help me."

"Of course, Andrew," said the pastor. "We'll help you in any way we can."

"Have you met with a lawyer yet?" asked Matthew, sitting on the edge of the table, allowing Andrew and the pastor to take the two chairs.

"Yes, he was here earlier. The Denver public defender, Ned Moreland."

"Moreland. I hear he's all right."

"He wants to ask for a continuance to allow my parents to testify. To help prove I am who I say I am."

"Well, that makes sense," said the Reverend. "Your parents know you best."

"Except that I don't want them to testify. How will it look if after only a month on my own I need to go crawling to my parents for help? I don't want them to know about any of this. Not if I can help it."

Matthew exchanged a glance with the Reverend. "I understand," said Matthew. And he truly did. He'd faced similar issues, wanting to prove himself capable without parental assistance. "We'll just have to find ways to convince the jury without them."

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Well…" Matthew thought, "if your parents won't be testifying that you're their son, then we should have your patients testify that you're their doctor. Prove to the jury that you're a real doctor and not some quack."

"Moreland thinks the surgery I performed on Horace will be a key piece of my defense."

"I'm sure Horace would be glad to come testify, Andrew," said the Reverend. "And I was there, I'd be willing to testify of your behalf, too."

"Thank you, Reverend."

"I can get folks to sign sworn affidavits saying that you treated them," added Matthew. "That way they all won't have to travel to Denver. I expect Moreland will wire Harvard, asking them for confirmation that you were a student there, so we don't need to do that. Can we have your permission to go through your things and get your diploma?"

"No, I'm sorry… I left my personal belongings in Boston," Andrew replied glumly. "But you mentioned people testifying. Could Michaela come testify? She could verify my medical acumen as a fellow physician."

"She won't be able to come because of Katie. We'll have to have her sign an affidavit, too."

Andrew nodded his understanding. "I just realized… I've been so preoccupied with my situation… who's taking care of Mr. Bailey at the clinic?"

"Colleen got him home since you said he could leave. Said she'd check in on him later to make sure he's doing all right."

"She's watching the clinic today," the Reverend added.

Andrew was astounded. "By herself?"

"Just until Dr. Cassidy can take over," the pastor assured him. "He filled in for Dr. Mike before for a short time while she was pregnant. Not the most pleasant of situations, but it will only be for a few days until we can get you back. He'll be returning with us on the afternoon train."

"Good." Andrew sighed wearily. "I still can't believe this is happening. I should be with Colleen… at the clinic," he clarified, embarrassed to have sounded so forward in front of her brother.

"Don't you worry," said Matthew, "We'll prove to a jury that you're innocent."

"Can you return for a visit tomorrow? It's been nice to see familiar faces. And a change of clothes would be welcome."

"I need to stay in town, get you those affidavits," said Matthew in apology.

"I'll come back, Andrew," the Reverend volunteered. "I know what it's like to wear the same thing day after day."

Andrew smiled at the joke, a genuine smile. "Thank you, Reverend. Thank you both."

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