Chapter 7
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Monday morning came at last. Andrew was back in the courtroom, escorted as always by Hardy. This time the room was packed with attendees, as the con man's shenanigans were known throughout the territory, and plenty of people wanted to see him get what he deserved. The jury box was also full, twelve men of various ages, though none looked to be under thirty. The only familiar face in the entire room other than his lawyer was Dorothy, seated in the audience. She had arrived in Denver the night before in order to cover the trial for the Gazette, with Preston covering her travel expenses. The train with the Reverend and Horace would be arriving while court was in session, as they were scheduled to testify in the afternoon.
"I didn't realize there'd be so many people watching," Andrew said nervously upon arriving at the defendant's table where Moreland was waiting for him.
"Remember, don't take it personally," Moreland advised. "We'll get our turn to persuade them you're not who they think you are."
The prosecutor approached the defendant's table to shake Moreland's hand. "Not too late to plea bargain, Ned."
"No thanks, George. My client's innocent."
"Good luck proving it," Bigalow replied, clearly doubtful.
The judge entered the courtroom.
"All rise," said the bailiff. "Court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Fenton Keene presiding."
Keene took his seat, and everyone sat down, except Hardy, who headed back to the jailhouse in case any new prisoners arrived. The court bailiff would take over watching Andrew from here.
"Gentlemen, are we ready to proceed?" asked Keene.
"Yes, your honor."
"Yes, your honor."
"For the record, the defendant has entered a plea of not guilty," said Keene. "George, the floor is yours."
"Thank you, your honor. Gentlemen of the jury, this case is a simple one. There is a menace in this territory preying upon innocent, law-abiding folks. He preys upon their good will, on their eagerness to get ahead. The charlatan promises them a sure-fire way to enrich their pockets and instead robs them of those very pockets! We will prove to you that he has defrauded the good, honest folks of this territory time and again, taking their hard-earned money and giving them empty promises in return. And he does so without any remorse. That menace has finally been caught, gentlemen, and he is sitting here today in this courtroom. You need only to find him guilty of multiple counts of fraud and let him be punished for his crimes."
Bigalow returned to his seat, smiling confidently.
Moreland stood. "What my esteemed colleague has said is true. A crime has been committed. But the man you see here today accused of that crime is innocent. For he, too, is a victim. A victim of mistaken identity. Yes, he looks like the man who defrauded the good folks of the Colorado Territory. But the defendant is not that man. Who is he, you ask? Just an eager young doctor on his first journey out west. Out on the frontier all of a month, and he's arrested for crimes he didn't commit! Crimes he couldn't possibility have committed, because he was far across the country in Boston, studying hard to become a doctor. Simply put, gentlemen, the wrong man is on trial today. And once you hear his story and hear about his medical accomplishments, you will have no choice but to find him not guilty of all charges."
Moreland turned towards the judge. "Your honor, I ask that all charges be dismissed on account that the wrong man is on trial today."
There was a murmur in the crowd. "All right, settle down," the judge ordered, and the voices quieted. "Sorry, Ned, the likeness is too uncanny. You're going to have to prove it. Motion denied. George, call your first witness."
As Bigalow called his first witness, Moreland returned to sit next to Andrew. Andrew gave him a slight nod of thanks, knowing the man had done his best to end this before it began. Moreland gave him a grim smile in return before turning his attention to the first witness.
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Bigalow called four witness from four different towns, all recounting a similar story. The visitor with a new invention, looking to fully fund his enterprise. How he appeared to be who he claimed to be when his identity was checked. How people in town invested their money with a promise of a big return. And how the prototype was not at all what the man claimed it to be, not matching the diagrams, but by then it was too late, the man had fled.
The questioning of all of them ended the same way.
"Is the man who defrauded you here today?"
"Yes."
"Can you point him out to us?"
One by one, they all pointed at Andrew.
"That man."
"Right there. Him."
"He did it. The louse."
"That's him, the son of a b-… well, that's him."
Each time, Moreland would cross-examine, asking if Andrew looked exactly the same as the man who had swindled them. Then, they were forced to admit that his hair was different and that he wasn't wearing glasses, raising the possibility that Andrew could be a brother or cousin or just an uncanny lookalike of the man who had taken their money.
Unfortunately, the prosecutor would then redirect, asking if it were not possible that a man who was adept at forging his identity would be capable of changing his appearance to avoid capture, going so far as to assume the persona of a doctor to do so.
The answer was the same each time. "Yes."
"Are you going to make us listen to this same story all day, George?" Keene asked after the fourth witness had stepped down.
"No, your honor, I think my point has been made sufficiently clear to the jury." Bigalow looked to the jury box, where several of the men nodded their agreement. "However, for the record, I would like to enter into evidence this diagram of the machine that these folks were promised, proof that fraud was committed, and these signed affidavits, all attesting that the man pictured on the Wanted poster, and identified by four witness in court today as the defendent, is the man who defrauded them." He handed a thick stack of paper to the judge before announcing, "The prosecution rests."
"Very well. Ned, would you like us to take an early lunch, or would you prefer to get started now?"
"I'd like to call my first witness now, your honor, and then break for lunch to allow my other witnesses to arrive," replied Moreland. The sooner he got started the better – he needed to start sowing the doubt in the jurors' minds that his client wasn't the "louse" they now thought he was.
"Very well."
"The defense calls Dr. Andrew Cook to the stand."
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