Heyes tried to keep his balance as he climbed out of the wagon and jumped down to the sidewalk outside the courthouse, but his chains threw him off. He fell heavily to his knees. The young blonde marshal helped the famous outlaw to his feet. "You alright, Heyes?" he asked.
"Yeah, sure, Harvey" said his charge, "Thanks." But Heyes felt bruised and tired as he trudged back to the meeting room for his lunch. It was dispiriting to be back in chains. And no matter how well he had done on the shooting range, it was what happened in the courtroom that really counted. Cole came along to give his client some fresh legal guidance.
"Well, Heyes, you sure destroyed his primary line of attack out there on the shooting range. 'Fast as a rattler' did the marshal say? He got that right! So you know what happens now?" asked Cole as he put down his sandwich.
Heyes, the master strategist, nodded without hesitation. "I'm guessing that he'll throw any stone he can find in my direction. He'll go for my character and my past and any other thing he can think of. Can't hardly blame him – there's plenty of good ammunition there. A notorious outlaw makes a damn big target."
Cole nodded with a dry little smile. His canny client was all too right. "That's the way I read it. It can be harder to defend against that kind of scattershot approach than against a more organized strategy. After the display you gave today with a gun, the last thing you want to confirm is that you're really dangerous. Don't let him get you angry! Just stay calm and rational while he rants up and down about how your word means nothing. If anyone gets upset, let it be him. If he says some stupid thing about you or your advisor or your fiancée . . ."
Heyes started to his feet, "No! I'm not gonna' stand by and let him attack Beth!"
"Heyes!" Cole shook his finger at his client, "You just gave a great demonstration of what he wants you to do and you know it! From what you've told me, your fiancée is a sensible woman. Surely she'd rather let some lawyer sound stupid cause he's attacking a woman than have you go to jail because you've proven that you're violent and untrustworthy! Though truthfully, I doubt that rising to the defense of a woman is going to cause you problems with that solid western jury."
"And to tell the truth on my side, what I'm more worried about is the next trial," said Heyes bitterly.
"Heyes!" fussed his lawyer, "That's the other big danger. Don't get distracted! One trial at a time, man!"
"Yes, sir!" said Heyes with a sheepish grin. "One trial at a time. Are you admitted to the bar in Wyoming, Cole?"
"Heyes!" Cole snapped at the former outlaw. As they got to know each other better Cole was almost forgetting that the other man was older and far more experienced than he was, not to mention white. "Yes, I am and I'm ready to defend you there, but I don't want you to even think about it right now! And right now, I see it's almost 1:30. Time to get back at it. Ready?"
"Ready, boss!" said Heyes brightly, echoing the words that other men had often said to him. But as the young lawyer and his infamous client walked down the hall among the crowds thronging into the courtroom, the defendant in his chains looked dejected and distracted.
The trial resumed with Horace, twitchier than ever, blowing his nose noisily and taking up his questioning again. He began, "I would like to recall the defendant to the stand, please."
As Heyes arrived at the stand, the judge said rather wearily, "The defendant will still regard himself as being under oath."
"Yes, of course, your honor," said Heyes respectfully.
"Mr. Heyes," said Horace, "would you say that you are in better or worse practice with a gun now than you were when you shot Mr. Gunther?"
Heyes answered, "Considering that today was the first time I've gotten to touch a gun, except just to put one in my pocket, in at least six weeks, I'd say I was in notably better practice then."
"I thought that Mr. Cole said you kept in excellent shooting practice even while in school, Mr. Heyes," said Horace eagerly. He obviously felt that he was being able to turn the defense against itself.
"I am presently accommodated in the Lewis and Clark County Jail," said Heyes testily, "where guns for inmates are strictly against the rules. Prior to that, before I was arrested I had just finished writing my Master's thesis, writing five final papers, and teaching two college classes as a substitute for my advisor. One of the classes that I taught was a graduate level class where some of the students were actually senior to me. It was a little challenging, to say the least. Time to go out to the shooting range has been a trifle shorter than usual during the last six weeks or so, sir," concluded the former outlaw crisply. His dry sarcasm fetched a few chuckles from the gallery and the jury and even the judge smiled before he caught himself.
"Would the prosecutor like to recall Charles Homer, the defendant's academic advisor, to the stand?" asked the judge.
"No, sir, that will not be necessary," said Horace, wiping his brow with a large handkerchief. "I have no reason to distrust the defendant's description of his academic situation." Cole's and Heyes' eyes met as they filed this sentence away for future use. "I would prefer to move on. On the first day of the trial, it was brought up that we should question the defendant about his and his partner's knowledge of the use of finger prints as criminal evidence. I will remind the jury that the conclusion that Mr. Gunther had begun to advance the next chamber in his pistol in order to fire a second time at Mr. Heyes was based upon the lack of fingerprints that were not those of the victim, on the victim's gun. If Mr. Heyes or Mr. Curry knew about the use of finger print evidence, they could conceivably have manipulated that evidence by wiping the weapon or placing the fingers of the deceased onto the gun's surface to make new prints. Mr. Heyes, at that time, were you or your partner familiar with the idea of using finger prints as a means of telling who has handled an object?"
"Yes. We both were," said Heyes flatly, remembering his lawyer's frequent advise to tell no more than he was asked. Let Horace pry out the details. The jurors, the judge, and Mr. Horace looked at Heyes with intense curiosity, since this approach to the solving of crimes had been entirely new to them only a single day before.
Cole spoke up, "However, we already proved that it would not have been possible to manipulate the fingerprint evidence to fake the advancement of the gun's chambers. Would the prosecutor like to read the transcript of the evidence?"
"No! That will not be necessary," said Horace, but he asked Heyes what they were all wondering, "Might I ask, Mr. Heyes, how and when you and your partner became familiar with this very new kind of criminal evidence? I understand that it has never previously been used in the United States – only in Europe."
Heyes stopped and bit his lip for a moment, thinking. "It was some years ago – I guess it was about six years ago. Yes, about six years ago. That is, it was maybe a year after the K – Mr. Curry and I had stopped our criminal activities. While we were waiting in a hotel to take a job I found and read a book by Mark Twain called Life on the Mississippi. In chapter 31, as I recall, it included a description of how every person has a unique set of markings on his or her thumb – in fact it's on all of the fingers. This played a key part in a plot recited within the story. Just after that I actually used that information to induce a lawyer who had gone bad to prove to us – to Mr. Curry and myself - the crime that he had committed. That crime was murdering one of his own clients. We got him to being anxious about having left his finger prints on the murder weapon. When he went to find the weapon where we had hidden it, the local sheriff – we had tipped him off – was going to arrest the murderer. In fact, the sheriff accidentally shot the lawyer to death. It was, by the way, one of a number of instances where Mr. Curry and I have been able to bring criminals to justice." The gallery gasped a couple of times during this answer and journalists could be heard taking rapid notes. This was an instance of where Cole had instructed Heyes to give as much information to the jury as he could – when it would reflect well upon him!
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Heyes," said the judge, "are you saying that you and Mr. Curry have turned in criminals to the law? Was that not extremely dangerous for you?"
"Yes, your honor, we did. And yes, it was," Heyes said. "It was real dangerous. But we figured we owed it to the country that we'd hurt when we were robbing. We've turned in a bunch of money that other folks stole, too. I've added it up – comes to more than a million. Somewhere about a million two hundred thirty-one thousand, two hundred and twelve dollars and some cents." This precise and enormous number caused a noisy sensation in the courtroom which the judge rather reluctantly quashed with his gavel.
"More than a million DOLLARS?" asked the judge, when he could be heard. "And how much money do you calculate, Mr. Heyes, that you stole during your criminal careers?"
"Objection!" shouted Horace furiously. "How is this relevant to this case, your honor? We are not trying Mr. Heyes for theft."
The judge responded calmly, "But we are trying him for a murder that he committed after having gone straight. To my mind knowing about his activities turning in criminals helps us to understand how he was conducting himself during that period and how he dealt with criminals – like those who had kidnapped his partner. Mr. Heyes, please answer the question."
Heyes slanted his head and appeared to calculate the number on the spot, although Beth knew well that he had figured it up long ago. "Well, I can't be held to account for what Mr. Curry got away with when he was with other gangs. But while we were with the Devil's Hole, I figure it came to about eight hundred and fifty-five thousand seven hundred or so."
"Or so," said the judge dryly. "That is a rather precise figure for a long criminal enterprise. And precisely less than what you say that you have turned in stolen by other people."
Heyes shrugged modestly. "Yes, your honor. I'm a rather precise guy. Was even before I went to Columbia. And yes, what we turned in comes to considerably more than we stole. It didn't come from the same people, of course, but yes, it was more."
"Your honor, we have all of this only on Mr. Heyes' word!" Horace shouted hotly. "Is there any evidence of any such Robin Hood goings on?"
"Actually, your honor, there is evidence of the activities of Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry on behalf of the law," said Cole. "I have not had much time to gather and support such evidence, and there is a great deal of it, but I have today received telegrams from several judges and sheriffs around the west who can confirm certain criminals brought to justice and amounts of stolen cash turned in. All of them agree precisely with what Mr. Heyes has told me that he and Mr. Curry did. Since they were always working in secret, often protected by their aliases, it is, of course, impossible to prove that these deeds were actually done by the defendant and his partner. But I am at a loss to know how he would have known about these proceedings, which were usually highly secret, if he were not involved in them."
The judge and Horace and the jury pored over the documents, which they approved and introduced into evidence. The judge granted a brief intermission in the trial for them to read the documents. But, as Cole had said, in most cases there was no way to prove that Heyes and Curry had turned in the assorted murders, bank presidents and other thieves listed. However, in more than one case, the descriptions of the men involved matched those of Heyes and Curry. And in one case, Judge Hanley was able to state with certainty that it was Heyes and Curry who had captured four murderers and then helped him to arrest a dishonest sheriff and regain the stolen money that the sheriff had taken for his own. The judge seemed to take special interest in that case, perhaps because it came the closest to being provable. In the end, the judge said that the jury should only take this as supporting evidence for Heyes' general character and activities rather than trusting the unsupported particulars.
"Again, your honor," said Horace as the trial resumed, "we are stuck taking Mr. Heyes' word for something vital. He is well known for his ability as a liar. He is said to be able to convince nearly anyone of nearly anything."
"Objection! Hearsay!" cried Cole.
The judge denied the objection, saying "This reputation is too wide-spread to be denied. Mr. Horace is not quoting a particular instance of hearsay, but a widely known reputation. Objection denied."
Horace went on, "I do not want our jury to be among the people to whom Mr. Heyes has lied and gotten away with it. He is a known associate of such notorious confidence artists as Mr. Silky O'Sullivan and Mr. James Duffy. Here are transcripts from a trial of a third party, for instance, in which Mr. O'Sullivan was cited as being associated with Mr. Heyes in particular. Do you deny, Mr. Heyes, that you have been associated with these and other confidence artists and even participated with them in deceiving people for gain?"
"No, sir, I do not," said Heyes steadily. "It was a long . . ."
Horace cut him off, "Do you deny that you still know and at times associate with such men?" The prosecutor was gaining in confidence as he finally felt that he was backing Heyes against a wall.
"No, sir, I do not," Heyes said gravely. He, too, realized that Horace was at last landing blows that might really hurt him with the jury. He desperately hoped that no evidence would be introduced about the money supporting his studies that came from some of these very men. He had promised his supporters not to put them in any peril due to this financing!
Horace battered on, "And even now, Mr. Hannibal Heyes, as you have gone forward with your illustrious academic career, you have continued to deceive those around you. You were heard at your arrest to apologize to your friends for, and I quote the marshals' transcript, 'the lies.' Is that not true?"
"Yes, sir, it is," Heyes answered steadily, flushing a little as he spoke. Lying now on the stand would not exactly help him, but telling the truth hurt him very badly.
"In fact," continued Horace, "there are two men here in this courtroom and remaining under oath who are among those whom you have badly deceived, Mr. Heyes. They have stated that they are your friends and yet it stands to reason that you have repeated lied to them. I would like now to call to the stand Mr. Joachim Gelbfisch, otherwise known as James Smith."
The judge looked at Heyes with what the former criminal thought was regret and said, "Mr. Heyes, you are dismissed until recalled. You remain under oath."
Heyes nodded and walked back to the defendant's table and sat down, trying to keep his chains quiet. He looked stricken.
Jim Smith nervously climbed into the witness box. "You recall that you are still under oath, Mr. Gelbfisch?" said the judge.
"Yes, your honor," said Jim just above a whisper. He could not hide that he dreaded the questions to come. He did not want to hurt Heyes, but he also could not be thrown into jail for perjury. He had the remains of his family to help to support, not to mention himself.
"Mr. Gelbfisch," said Horace, "What name did Mr. Heyes give when you first met him?"
"He d-didn't give a name, sir. He couldn't," said Jim softly so that the jury members all leaned forward to hear him. They were all mightily perplexed about why the silver-tongued Heyes had been unable to speak.
"Please explain the situation to the jury that made it impossible for Mr. Heyes to speak," said Horace. He knew the history himself as part of the evidence shared between defense and prosecution, but the jury had heard nothing of Heyes' injury before this. Whether Horace felt some sympathy for Heyes or whether he just didn't want to come across as cold and unfeeling, Horace used a softer and less accusatory tone than he had before.
Jim labored to speak with as little stuttering as possible and surprised himself with how successful he was. He didn't want his own handicap to make his evidence less believable. "I work in a c-clinic for aphasia – the Leutze Clinic for Aphasia p-patients. Aphasia is what they call it when someone's had a stroke or been hurt in the head so they c-can't talk or maybe understand or read or write. Mr. Heyes was shot in the head." This caused a noisy outburst from the jury and the gallery that the judge allowed to go on for a minute before he hammered with his gavel. He could understand that people would be shocked by this news.
Jim went on when it was quiet enough for him to do so. "He showed me the scar. He couldn't t-talk at all, or write. He could read and understand by then, but not at first from what Dr. Leutze t-told me. So I was introduced t-to him as Joshua Smith, but that's just what Dr. Leutze said. Heyes – Mr. Heyes - he couldn't say a word."
Horace turned to Heyes and asked, "Mr. Heyes, if you do not object, could you please show us the scar to which Mr. Gelbfisch refers?"
Heyes nodded and silently pushed the long hair back from his left temple. The jurors leaned forward to gape at the still ugly dark diagonal scar.
"So now we know the nature of Mr. Heyes' handicap to which I referred earlier," said Horace. "The jury will no doubt have noticed some occasional hesitations in Mr. Heyes' speech."
"Mr. Gelbfisch," asked the prosecutor, "when and how did you first find out who Mr. Heyes really was?"
Heyes' jaw tightened and he fought to keep his face as impassive as he could as Jim answered. What was coming, for him, was easily the worst moment of the trial so far. He was terrified that Jim's evidence would lead directly to the story of how the Kid had killed the Teasdale brothers. This was what Heyes had meant when he had said to Cole that if he said the wrong thing it could send the Kid to the gallows. But that it would be Jim's testimony that might do it was even worse! If the Kid died at the end of a rope, Jim Smith would never forgive himself. Nor would Heyes.
Jim's voice dropped almost to silence. He knew exactly what Heyes and the Kid feared and while he saw it coming, he knew that there was little or nothing he could do to keep their fears from coming true. "I . . . I went out West t-to where Mr. Curry lives to surprise Mr. Heyes when he was visiting there at Christmas. While I was there, a pair of rough guys t-tried to shoot up the saloon where they were and to kill folks. Mr. Heyes and Mr. C-Curry stopped them. But the guys – they knew who Heyes and Curry were and they said their names out loud. And I heard it where I had hidden behind the bar."
"And where was that saloon?" asked Horace smoothly, his nervousness evaporating.
"Objection!" said Cole. "This story has no further relevance to this case."
"Sustained!" said the judge firmly. "Mr. Horace, you will discontinue this line of questioning unless it is directly relevant."
"Mr. Gelbfisch, did Mr. Heyes try to deny the name that you heard put on him?" asked Horace, nervously wiping his brow again as the objection had rattled him.
"No, sir. He said he was sorry for all they'd done," said Jim stoutly. He felt like he had dodged a bullet, but wondered how many more legal missiles might be flying in his direction. Heyes, similarly, was relieved but continued to be extremely wary.
"That concludes my questions for this witness," said Horace. Jim breathed a sigh of relief that he could not hide.
Cole asked Jim, "Mr. Smith, was Mr. Heyes honest with you about his past and his present, after that?"
"Yes, sir," said Jim. "He answered all my questions - and I had plenty. I used to read about him and Mr. Curry in books. He was my hero. And he still is – now that I know the truth." Heyes looked down at the desk to hide his smile. Amid his worries, it was great to hear some unqualified support. He winked at Jim as his friend returned to his seat. Jim was too scared to wink back.
Then Horace called Charles Homer to the stand. Charlie had dressed in his best suit and gotten a haircut and shaved carefully. He wanted to look as unadventurous and professorial as he could.
"Dr. Homer, how did you meet Mr. Heyes?" asked Horace.
Charlie answered, "His tutor at the Leutze Clinic used to take college classes with me. She told me that she had an extraordinary student – a patient there - whom she thought would do very well in college as a mathematics major. She brought him to meet me over the summer and asked if he might sit in with one of my classes. That is, just attend, you know, and observe, and not get college credit for the class."
"Did Mr. Heyes introduce himself to you by name?" asked Horace, hoping that this time he would catch Heyes in a bold-faced lied.
Horace was disappointed again. "No, sir. Mr. Heyes was still struggling to talk at that point. His tutor introduced him to me as Joshua Smith. As a matter of fact, I had first heard of him before he came to New York, when Dr. Leutze sent me a telegram with a complex mathematical formula that Mr. Smith, as he called him then, had worked out. It was perfectly correct, by the way, despite Heyes' lack of education at that time."
"And who was Heyes' tutor at the Leutze clinic?" aske Horace
Charlie said, "Her name is Elizabeth Warren."
Horace looked challengingly at the professor, "And is she present in this courtroom?"
"She is," said Professor Homer. There was a stir as people looked around the courtroom. Many had noticed a woman with Homer and Jim Smith before – now they knew who she was.
Horace asked,"And does she have a further relationship to the defendant than merely his tutor, since she came all this way to his trial?"
Homer nodded. "Yes, sir. They are engaged to be married." That caused a prolonged outburst of talk in court, especially from the many ladies present. Beth looked down and blushed hard where she sat. She knew now that she would have to take the stand.
"Before I finish my questions, Dr. Homer, did Mr. Heyes ever deceive you about his background as you worked with him as professor and advisor?"
"He answered all of my questions as honestly as he reasonably could. I didn't ask if he had been an outlaw."
"You never had cause to ask if he had been an outlaw?"
Homer fumbled, "I mean at school, as his professor and advisor I never asked him. When Mr. Curry asked me to help his partner when he was sick and hurt and it was pretty clear that something was going on, he told me he was an outlaw before I could ask him."
"When he was hurt and sick? When was that and how did it happen?" asked Horace, cringing in anticipation of the cry of objection.
As expected, Cole did object. "This is another time, another story, that has no bearing on this case!"said Cole. "It suffices to know that Mr. Heyes willingly told Dr. Homer that he was an outlaw."
"Sustained," said the judge again.
"But Heyes told his advisor who he was only," said Horace, "after it was, to quote him, 'pretty clear that that something was going on.' He did not give that information before he had to!"
"Of course!" said the judge. "The man's not stupid! It is only human for someone who is widely known to be wanted dead or alive with a large award offered not to volunteer to strangers who he is and thus that they are free to kill him! There is no law against trying to stay alive! And so long as he is not in a court of law or creating a contract, there is no law against using an alias."
Then Beth Warren was called to the stand. She was quiet and dignified, but she trembled as she stepped up and swore her oath.
"Miss Warren, did Mr. Heyes introduce himself to you by his right name?" asked Horace, once again.
Beth answered quietly, "No, sir. Dr. Leutze introduced him to me as Mr. Joshua Smith. Mr. Heyes was utterly unable to speak at that time, or even to write."
Horace pressed on, "And did he hide his past as you got to know him?"
Beth spoke quietly but steadily, "No, he was as forthcoming as he could be. He told me where he was from and what states and territories he had been in – just by pointing on a map before he could talk. And once he could talk, he told me more and more."
Horace urged, "And when and how did you learn his true identity?"
Beth answered more forcefully, "He told me himself. First, when we could see that we were falling in love, he told me that I should not be with him. He said that it was dangerous, and that he was a wanted man. And then, when I insisted on learning more, he told me his name."
"And you decided that it was fine that you would be romantically involved with a notorious wanted criminal?" asked Horace disdainfully.
"No," Beth fought back tears, "When he told me, I left him. But later when he was, as Dr. Homer said, sick and hurt, I went back to him. I realized that leaving Mr. Heyes had been the worst mistake of my life."
Horace's voice grew softer, "And you will marry him, even knowing who he is?"
Beth look up with her eyes ablaze and her voice full of conviction, "Yes, sir. Especially because I know who he really is. I know that now he is a good and honest man who has worked very, very hard for many years so that he can use his extraordinary gifts to help his country!" The judge had to silence the enthusiastic applause that came from the gallery. Heyes bit his lip as he looked down and tried not to smile. It was wonderful to hear Beth's support, and to hear the public approval of it. He only wished that her identity had never had to be revealed.
Horace dismissed Beth and said, "Your honor, it seems that every time we attempt to discover the source of Mr. Heyes' use of an alias in New York, we come back to Dr. Leutze of the Leutze clinic. According to our witnesses, he was the one who established Hannibal Heyes in New York as Joshua Smith the patient and student. If we could only speak to him, we might discover how much Mr. Heyes himself lied in order to create this identity."
"I agree, Mr. Horace," said the judge. "And I have here a telegram informing me that Dr. Leutze is on his way to testify. We will adjourn until he is due to arrive by train tomorrow afternoon." Heyes looked up at the judge in open agony on hearing this. The very last thing he wanted was for his doctor, mentor, and friend to be put in the position to possibly be arrested and jailed for aiding and abetting a criminal avoiding arrest. In addition to the harm this would do to Dr. Leutze himself, it would devastate many, many sufferers of aphasia all over the United States. That was a group of people with whom Heyes had the greatest of sympathy. The defendant stumbled numbly and looked white as a sheet as his company of marshals accompanied him back to his cell across the street. Heyes paid no attention to the reporters and photographers who dogged his steps. He returned to his bare cell in the Lewis and Clark County jail where the cell next to his stood empty.