"Gentlemen," he said, "we are attempting to get to a solution of
this thing. We are trying one man, it is true, but, in a certain
sense, we are trying every member of the crew, every person who
was on board the ship the night of the crime. We have a curious
situation. The murderer is before us, either in the prisoner's
dock or among the witnesses. Let us get at the truth without
bickering."
Mrs. Johns was called, following Miss Lee. I watched her carefully
on the stand. I had never fathomed Mrs. Johns, or her attitude
toward the rest of the party. I had thought, at the beginning of
the cruise, that Vail and she were incipient lovers. But she had
taken his death with a calmness that was close to indifference.
There was something strange and inexplicable in her tigerish
championship of Turner--and it remains inexplicable even now. I
have wondered since--was she in love with Turner, or was she only
a fiery partisan? I wonder!
She testified with an insolent coolness that clearly irritated the
prosecution--thinking over her replies, refusing to recall certain
things, and eyeing the jury with long, slanting glances that set
them, according to their type, either wriggling or ogling.
The first questions were the usual ones. Then:
"Do you recall the night of the 31st of July?"
"Can you be more specific?"
"I refer to the night when Captain Richardson found the prisoner
in the chart-room and ordered him on deck.
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