Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 22
By Megan
Shout outs: Ok, I wanna give shout outs to all who have reviewed the last two or three chapters. I don't know if it's my computer or the website but I'll check me reviews and new ones keep disappearing and reappearing. **Shrugs** Anyway, thanks to all of you who have reviewed. I was sort of testing out the newsies category but if I keep getting good feedback I'll type up some of my other newsies stories. Hope I'll have your reviews for those too.
On with the show…
Wednesday morning Specs woke her up. Hotshot didn't need to be in court that day but she wanted to be. She wanted to know what had happened that night, and she was sure neither Spot nor Rebel would repeat the story to her later that night. Specs was coming with her for no real reason, just to be there. She changed and met him downstairs. They were going to be late if they didn't hurry. They were the last two people to slip into the courtroom before the doors were shut.
Instead of moving to the front to sit near Denton and her father Hotshot took a seat in the very last row. Specs hesitated but she motioned for him to sit in the back. He sat down next to her on the bench as the judge entered. Much of the traditional court procedure had to be gone through before Spot and Rebel were questioned so everyone in the courtroom sat and listened to Edwards and Denton's statements.
When Denton began to question Rebel Specs let his gaze wander around the courtroom. His eyes widened as they stopped on a blonde haired boy sitting at the table with Hotshot's father. "Hotshot is that-"
She stopped him by nodding vigorously.
Before Specs could say anything else he was stopped by Denton's voice echoing through the room. "Mr. Conlon, did you witness the murder of Mr. Alexander Thomas Sr.?"
Specs gasped, causing the heads of a few near them to turn for a second.
"Yes I did." Spot's answer was said in an unrecognizable voice.
"Was it the accused, Mr. Lynn, who killed him?"
"No."
"Are the true murderers in this courtroom today?"
"Yes."
"Would you please point them out and state their names for the court?"
Spot pointed to the table where Edwards was sitting with Joseph, and Jonathan Pulitzer as well as Spot's father. "It was Jonathan Pulitzer and Lawrence Conlon who killed him."
"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes."
When Edwards' turn came he practically jumped on Spot, "How old were you when this incident occurred?"
"I'd just turned seven."
"And it was at night that this happened, am I right, a very dark and rainy night?"
"Yes it was," Spot agreed.
"If it was so dark how can you be sure what you saw?"
"I know what I saw."
Edwards went off in another direction, "Have you ever committed a crime, Mister Conlon?"
Spot paused for a moment, "What newsie hasn't. I haven't done as much as some but I've done some things I shouldn't have."
"Isn't it true that when you witnessed the murder you were running away from the refuge?"
"Yes."
"How much time did you and your brother have left to serve?"
"About six months."
"Perhaps you should be sent back to finish your sentence," he mused aloud, "No further questions."
"Did you witness the murder?" Denton asked Rebel.
"Yes," Rebel replied in a flat tone.
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"We couldn't have."
"Why not?"
"We were only newsies, and we were running away at that. The bulls, 'scuse me police, wouldn't have believed us."
"Do you agree with your brother on who killed Mr. Thomas?"
"Yes, it was them."
Edwards seemed to pick up where he'd left off with Spot. "How old were you when you saw the murder?"
"I was sixteen."
"How is it you are sure of what you saw?"
Rebel glared at Mr. Edwards, "I was carrying Spot back to the Brooklyn lodging house 'cause it was late an' he couldn't keep up. He was bein' me lookout and saw our father in the alley I was walking down so I hid. A few minutes later our dad stopped this guy comin' down the alley, Mr. Thomas. Mr. Pulitzer was following Thomas and," he threw a sympathetic glance at Dutchy, "They killed him. I watched it with my own eyes, so did Spot."
"But wasn't it dark?"
"It didn't matter," Rebel fought to keep his voice calm. He wanted to scream at the man in front of him, "Me an' Spot had been in the dark streets for over an hour. Our eyes were used to it. When they left I picked Spot up and got us out of there. We didn't go to the cops."
"You wouldn't let your brother go to the police?"
"I wasn't about them to let them throw my seven-year-old brother back in the refuge for another year. I told him to forget about it and we avoid the subject."
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
"I couldn't afford ta go back to the refuge."
As Rebel returned to his seat Hotshot could see he was trembling with anger. He briefly placed a hand on Dutchy's shoulder as he passed the younger boy. Denton leaned across the table and whispered something. Both Dutchy and Hotshot's father nodded. When Denton stood again Dutchy walked up and sat in the chair that had been previously occupied by Rebel.
Dutchy looked horrible. He hadn't been crying but his eyes were red and he was more pale than usual. Denton had obviously told him to dress more nicely than usual, because he was dressed in his best clothes and his light blonde hair was parted and combed neatly.
"Dutchy," Denton said calmly, "Will you please state your full name for the court?"
"Alexander Thomas Jr." Dutchy gulped and sat back.
"Will you please tell me about your life leading up to your father's death Dutchy?" Denton knew he had to be patient with Dutchy.
The young man swallowed and began to speak. "I lived with me mum and dad in Germany. My dad was always coming between Germany and America on business. He worked for Mr. Lynn's company. When I was four me mum an' me finally moved to America with him. They said it was important that I learned English, but I spoke Dutch a lot. I learned a little English and I could read too. When I was about seven-an'-a-half my parents made a huge deal 'cause me dad was being considered for a 'partner' in Mr. Lynn's law firm. The other guy they were considerin' was Mr. Pulitzer. One night me dad went to Mr. Lynn's house to make the final decision. The next morning they found his body in the alley."
"Did your family have a lot of money?"
"We had enough for me mum an' me to live on but she didn't see a reason to live anymore."
"What else happened, Dutchy? How did you become a newsie?"
"Me mum didn't have any will to live so she stopped working and got sick. Really sick." Dutchy stopped and took a few deep breaths. "Before she died she told me they were going to put me in an orphanage and that she didn't want me to go there. She wanted me to go out and get a job. I was nine when she died. The nurse took me to the orphanage, but I snuck out that night. I was sorta panicked 'cause I'd been wit' 'er when she died so I was speaking Dutch. I ran into a guy named Mush and I was mumbling in Dutch. It was the middle of winter and it was snowing so he brought me back to the lodging house. Me friend Bumlets knew that I was speaking in Dutch 'cause he's part gypsy, an' he knows a little bit of a lot a languages. He yelled 'Hey Dutchy' and told me to speak in English. He got me calmed down and I fell asleep. I been sellin' papes ever since."
"Did you know who Ms. Lynn's father was when she first came to the lodging house?" Edwards' first question came out harshly.
"Not until she told us what her real name was and what happened. I knew it wasn't her father though."
"Why couldn't it have been her father?"
"'Cause she said he didn't leave the house after Pulitzer and me dad left."
"And you believe her?" He raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"A course I do!"
"Admit it Mr. Thomas," Edwards all but yelled, "You think that Mr. Lynn killed your father!"
Hotshot couldn't listen to this anymore. She jumped up from her seat and left the courtroom with the doors banging behind her. She refused to listen to them harass Dutchy and make her father look like a criminal any longer. When Specs came running after her she quickened her pace and left the building. Once she was outside she dodged through alleys and around carts until she lost him. She allowed herself to slow down and wandered the streets. After a few minutes she found herself in front of Pulitzer's mansion.
"Damn you!" she yelled picking up a rock from the ground, "Why do you have to ruin my life!" She launched the rock at the house and smiled as a basement window shattered. Then she started running again.
This time she stopped in central park and sat down near the water. Memories of her father's co-workers were flooding her mind. Not of the night Dutchy's father had died, but of the times before that; her father's Christmas parties when their families came as well.
*~*~*Flashback*~*~*
There was a group of carolers outside singing Christmas songs. She sat at the window watching them. She knew what was going on inside from just the sounds. The women were gossiping and the men were talking about business. The young boys were in other rooms and the girls were all seated around the table. The twins were sneaking upon her, and were planning to jump on her. Her father had always said she picked up on things quickly.
"Aaron, Salina, if either of you jumps on me I will lock you in your room." She turned to see her two younger siblings looking defeated.
"Brooke," The call came from blond haired Samantha, the daughter of a wealthy businessman her father knew, "Brooke, come sit with us." She walked and joined them around the table.
The girls were talking about the new clothes they had asked for as Christmas gifts. Samantha was talking about a new dress, Charlotte was sure she would get a fur coat, and Cynthia gushed about a pearl necklace.
"What did you ask for, Brooke?" Cynthia turned and asked her.
The girl turned to her and thought about what to say. Should she say what they wanted to hear or what she really wanted? Before she could stop it one answer left her mouth, "A slingshot." As the girls shot her strange looks Brooke got up and left the table. She wandered over to her father and asked, "Where's Andres?"
"In the kitchen," he replied bending down to speak with her as another man approached with his wife and son.
"Good evening Christian," the man said. Brooke knew who he was; he was her father's business partner, Mr. Thomas. He continued, "I would like you to meet my wife, Melinda, and my son, Alex."
Mr. Lynn kissed Mrs. Thomas' hand, "Very nice to meet you. This is my daughter Brooke. Sweetheart, why don't you bring Alex into the kitchen and help him find your brother. Then go outside and buy a paper from one of the newsies." He handed his daughter a dime from his pocket and Mr. Thomas nodded for his son to follow her.
Brooke walked along with the boy and stopped in the kitchen; her brother wasn't there. She looked at the older boy. His hair was a very light blonde and his skin was extremely pale.
"What?" he asked, seeing her look at him.
"You look weird." Even at a young age she spoke her mind.
"I'm from Germany," he said, and she nodded.
"I'm going to go buy a paper. Come with me if you want. I'll help you find Andres when you I get back." She walked out through the kitchen door and found him following her. "Rebel," she called running to the corner.
A newsie stood there waiting. He smiled when he saw her. "Good evening Miss Lynn," he nodded.
"My dad would like a paper." She handed him the coin and he handed her a paper, looking through his pocket for change afterward. "Keep the change." She told him before turning and walking back to the house with Alex.
Her brother appeared in front of them in the kitchen and she introduced Alex to the rest of the boys.
"Do you wanna play poker?" Andres asked, "We're sick of black jack and David thinks he can kick your butt."
She nodded and followed the pack of boys upstairs. She proceeded to beat each of the boys, except Alex. Of course this was because of the good hands he was dealt, but all the same they became friends.
From then on at all of the company's events you could usually find them together. Mrs. Lynn and Mrs. Thomas were good friends so they saw each other during the week sometimes as well.
During picnics in the summer Brooke would steal Alex's slingshot and become a master at using it. Alex stood up for her when the girls made fun of her wearing boys clothes. He was the boy that gave her her first kiss. But then there was a terrible accident…
*~*~*End Flashback*~*~*
She couldn't believe it. All this time the Dutchy had been one of her closest friends for two years and she hadn't even recognized him. And then there was the fact that he hadn't said anything about it.
A hand on her shoulder awoke her from her thoughts. Hotshot looked up to find the four newsies from the courtroom.
"You alright?" Specs asked.
She jumped off of the bench and grabbed Dutchy's arm, "We need to talk Alex."
He nodded, "Give us ten minutes guys."
"I can't believe you didn't say anything," she mumbled as the three others left, "I didn't recognize you Dutchy."
"Brooke don't start- Sorry Hotshot, and don't you dare call me Alex again." Dutchy caught her glare and returned it, "I'm over it ok. I know your dad didn't kill mine, an' I really didn't recognize you until you told that story…"
They caught up on old times and met the others back at the lodging house. She stayed there and played cards until it started getting dark. Back at the house she stretched out next to Specs and laid her head against his chest wearily.
The next day did not seem any better. She sat next to Spot and Rebel in the row behind her father. She was dreading the whole day and wanted it to be over.
Edwards Was first to question her, "You were six-and-a-half when the incident occurred?"
"Yes I was." She couldn't help being short with him.
"At that age were you aware of what business your father was in?"
"I knew he was a lawyer. He taught me tactics for court and I watched 'im work a few times."
"And you knew his business associates?"
"Most of them. He hosted parties and picnics a lot."
"So you knew Mr. Pulitzer and Mr. Thomas?"
"Yes."
"And were they both kind?"
"From what I saw of them yes, although Mr. Pulitzer had a habit of drinking too much and starting fights."
None of her answers were the ones that Mr. Edwards wanted. He sat down and allowed Denton to interrogate her.
"Brooke," he apologized with his eyes for using her real name, "Do you remember the night of the incident?"
She nodded, "Yes."
"Were you there?"
"I was sitting on the staircase."
"Brooke, can you tell us what happened that night?"
*~*~*Flashback*~*~*
The family had been visiting Christian's brother's family for a week. Unfortunately he had to come back two days early for business meetings. Brooke begged him to let her come, and he gave in. She'd stolen Andres' slingshot before they left and planned to practice with it at home. She knew he'd scream at her when the rest of them got back but she'd be ready to argue.
The night after they got back she came downstairs to see her father and found him letting two of his business partners in. She recognized them both right away. Without hesitation she ran into the room. "Hi Mista Pulitzer. Hi Mista Thomas. Didja bring Alex!?"
Pulitzer shot a look at her and shook his head, but Mr. Thomas smiled, "Good evening Brooke. Sorry, Alex is at home. If I'd known you'd be here I would have brought him."
"Christian," Pulitzer's voice cut through, "Can we please get down to business, without the child."
Her father nodded, "Of course." He hugged his daughter and gave her a knowing look, "Brooke, honey, why don't you go upstairs."
"Ok, night Dad," she left the room and took a seat on the stairs, out of everyone's sight. She quieted her breathing and sat there listening to their discussion.
The three men discussed the firm for close to half an hour. Their discussion varied from each man's cases to other people that worked at the firm. Brooke was starting to get bored when Mr. Pulitzer brought up a new topic.
"Christian, you really need to decide on a new partner soon."
"That is why I called the two of you here," she could almost hear him smiling, "It was narrowed down to you two and now we need to discuss what each of you can bring to the company."
Brooke paid careful attention to the rest of their conversation. It lasted for about ten minutes before Mr. Thomas got to his feet. "Well I must be going. I told Melinda I would be home by ten thirty." He got to his feet and the other two followed him to the door. Brooke moved farther into the shadows.
After Mr. Thomas had left Pulitzer closed the door and turned to her father, "Which way are you leaning Christian?"
"John, I'm leaning toward Alex. Please, don't take it personally. I just think he has more to offer the firm and his people skills are somewhat better." He kept his voice calm and even.
Jonathan opened the door again and shut it behind him. The loud slam echoed throughout the downstairs and Christian winced. He turned to find her at the bottom of the stairs.
"So what do you think?" he asked sitting in one of the chairs.
She climbed up in his lap, "I think Mr. Thomas is better."
"Do you have a reason?"
"Well," the young girl paused, "Mr. Thomas is really calm and nice to everyone. Mr. Pulitzer starts fights and I don't like his attitude."
Christian laughed at his daughters answer, "I agree. Would you like to help me tell them tomorrow?"
She shook her head, "Will you tell me a story?"
"A story about what?"
"The newsies."
So Christian told his daughter a story about being a newsie. It wasn't until late the next night that her father was told about the murder. Giving him less than a minute to grieve he was arrested. Brooke stayed with a neighbor until her mother returned.
*~*~*End Flashback*~*~*
"That night Mr. Thomas and Mr. Pulitzer came to the house. They talked about business and my dad asked what they thought they could bring to the firm as partner. Mr. Thomas left first and Mr. Pulitzer left a few minutes later."
"Do you know who your father was going to choose as partner?"
"Yes Mr. Thomas."
"Do you believe your friends' story of what they saw?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"My dad told Mr. Pulitzer that he was leaning toward Mr. Thomas for partner before Mr. Pulitzer left. He seemed really upset about the decision, and he's the kind of person who makes things go his way no matter who he has to step on along the way."
"Thank you Brooke. No further questions, Your Honor."
After the judge ordered a recess until the next day the newsies split into two groups. Rebel and Dutchy walked back to the lodging house, while Hotshot walked with Spot. She felt like she was in a daze and remembering the past made her sick. She'd originally planned to go play poker with some of the guys but Spot had grabbed her arm and said 'Let's go for a walk'. That was the end of the discussion.
The two of them walked through the streets in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge, but before they reached it turned toward Central Park. The whole walk was completely silent, except the occasional carriage driver yelling for them to get out of the way. When Hotshot took a seat on an empty bench in the park Spot leaned against the tree next to it.
"Feeling better?" he asked.
She nodded, "Thanks."
"So have I been forgiven for that little stunt on the roof last week?"
"Yes, Spot." She smiled, "You're forgiven."
"Good. Anyway, do you mind if me and the Brooklyn boys go home this weekend? We sorta wanna get back home for a little bit."
"I know the feeling Spot, trust me," she smiled remembering her first few weeks in Manhattan, "Have a good time and say 'hi' to everyone for me."
He pushed himself away from the tree. "I'm gonna head back to the lodging house. I'll see you tomorrow."
She stood up and hugged him, "Thanks for helping with my dad, Spot."
"Welcome," he said. As she sat down again he kissed her cheek.
Hotshot sat on the bench long after Spot had left, thinking about everything. There was a large list of topics running through her head. Each of them needed to be figured out within the next few weeks, and each of them gave her a headache. She didn't notice it was getting late until an elderly couple walking through the park asked why she wasn't at home so late at night. She thanked them for their concern and began the walk to her home. The boys were waiting for her and started a poker game that got her mind off of everything.
People surrounded the next day the courtroom. Some of them were friends of her father's and she recognized them. Others were people who had insisted the judge had done the right thing by putting her father in jail. Her father's appeal had sparked the interest of most of New York, which had also sparked interest of the already notorious case between her and Pulitzer.
Reporters were screaming questions at Hotshot and her friends as they entered the courthouse. Hotshot simply ignored them, the other newsies following suit. She sat patiently on the bench behind her father. Dutchy and Specs were on one side of her and Rebel on the other. He'd made Spot stay outside so he could get out of there quickly if it was needed. The judge walked to his seat ready to announce the verdict. Hotshot didn't hear the short speech he gave before the part she was waiting for.
"On the charges of murder I find Mr. Christian Lynn innocent," Judge Monahan said.
Hotshot released a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Dutchy was smiling brilliantly and had a hand on her shoulder. Rebel still sat stiffly in his seat.
The judge continued, "As for the murder of Mr. Alexander Thomas Sr. I find Mr. Lawrence Conlon guilty of murder, a sentence to be served in the State Penitentiary, and Mr. Jonathan Pulitzer guilty of being an associate to murder…"
Spot's composure relaxed on the bench, but his older brother stayed tense.
"I sentence Mr. Conlon to one life sentence," Now Rebel relaxed. "And Mr. Pulitzer, I fine one thousand dollars."
Mr. Conlon looked extremely lethal as the police led him out of the building. Pulitzer looked apologetic, but smug at the same time. He sat in his chair as his brother filled out a check.
"I'll be at the Brooklyn house if you want to come visit," her father said, "And I'll come to the rest of your trial. I have to get my affairs in order first though."
She turned to her father and hugged him, "Alright, I'll drop by next weekend. I promise. Oh, and Dad, the Brooklyn newsies use the Brooklyn place when they're hiding from the bulls so just leave the kitchen door open and tell them you're Hotshot's dad."
He grinned, "Leave it to you to think up something like that. I'll see you next weekend. Tell Andres I'll pick him up at the Manhattan lodging house in two hours."
Spot was waiting outside as anxious, maybe even more than before. It was obvious no one had told him the trials outcome.
Rebel wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders. "It's over. He's got a life sentence. It's over Spot."
Spot hugged his brother, almost crying. Brooke could tell but didn't make fun of him for it, she was almost crying too. He turned to her, "Your dad out?"
She nodded happily, "He's goin' ta Brooklyn. The newsies are still welcome to hide there though. He's taking Andres with him."
The group walked back to the lodging house, ignoring any reporters they saw along the way. None of the newsies had to ask the trial's outcome when they saw the happy looks on their friends' faces. The entire lodging house made it's way to Tibby's where a party was thrown and poker games were started.
Hotshot sat a little ways apart from the others. She'd joined them after her father had picked Andres up. Now she sat there grinning about her father's release. The day was only ruined by thoughts in the back of her mind. The fact that Pulitzer could still have custody of her worried her more now than ever.
A/N: I'm havin' fun right now. Ok, this chapter was easy, but the Dutchy bit I thought of caused some problems early on. It's done though. This might be the last chapter this week, I'll try for one this weekend but there are parties and I'll be dead from (BC) Ugh!
I'm trying to be nicer to Spot (Lange) if this isn't good enough for you give me a suggestion. I'm sorry if I said only a few people reviewed but I would love it if those who read but don't review would review as well as those who always do.
Oh yeah, almost forgot, remember in the last chapter when Mitchell talked about two newsies in the newspaper. Whoever can figure out who they are will get a special shout-out in the next chapter. Have a great, I'll try to get more up if reviews keep comin'. Byes! ~Megan~~~