Part 9 (1/2)
”Did Mr. Felderson usually carry a gun?”
”No.”
”Did Mrs. Felderson have a revolver?”
”No,” I replied, ”I don't think she even knows how to use one.”
”Please only answer my questions!” Kirkpatrick rebuked me sharply.
”You have stated to the jury that Mr. Woods had threatened Mr. Felderson's life in case he did not give Mrs. Felderson a divorce. When did Mr. Felderson intend giving his wife the promised divorce?”
”I don't think he really intended to give Mrs. Felderson a divorce.”
”But you stated that he consented to a divorce?”
”He did, but with certain reservations,” I answered.
”What were those reservations?”
”That there should be nothing in Mr. Woods' past that could cause Mrs. Felderson trouble in the future, in case she married Woods.”
”Did Mr. Woods know of Mr. Felderson's intention not to divorce Mrs. Felderson?” he demanded.
”I don't know. I know that Mr. Felderson had made an important discovery about Mr. Woods' past life.”
”Was this discovery of such a nature as to cause Mr. Felderson to refuse a divorce?”
”It was!” I answered.
”Can you tell the jury what this discovery was?”
”No, I can not.”
”Did Mr. Woods know that Mr. Felderson had made this discovery?”
”I think he did.”
”Aren't you certain?”
”No.”
”This is important, Mr. Thompson. Will you tell the jury why you think Mr. Woods knew of Mr. Felderson's discovery?”
”Because Mr. Woods called Mr. Felderson up shortly after the discovery was made and asked for an interview at the country-club.”
”Was Mr. Felderson on his way to that meeting when he met his death?” the attorney queried.
”Yes,” I responded.
”Do you know whether Mr. Felderson intended to inform Woods that he would not divorce Mrs. Felderson?”
”I think he intended to accuse Woods of dishonesty,” I replied.
”Mrs. Felderson knew the purpose of the meeting, did she not?”
”I couldn't say.”
Kirkpatrick turned to the jury.
”Has the jury any questions they wish to ask?”
I seized my opportunity.
”I would like to say a few words with the permission of the jury.”
Receiving a nod of consent, I related to them as briefly as possible my conviction of my sister's innocence, her cry of danger to her husband, and the coincidence of the black limousine on the road at about the same time as the tragedy. I also told of the enmity of Zalnitch for Jim and of his presence with the others in the black limousine. The foreman of the jury leaned forward.
”Will you repeat the words that your sister uttered?”
”She cried, 'Look out, Jim! It's going to hit us!'”
”Your sister was delirious at the time, was she not?”
”Yes,” I answered. ”But from the tone of her voice I feel perfectly sure she referred to something that occurred on the night of the tragedy.”
”You think she referred to the black limousine when she said, 'It's going to hit us'?” the foreman continued.
”Yes.”
”Yet the coroner's verdict was that your brother-in-law was killed by a bullet, fired, apparently, from behind and above.”
I felt the weakness of my ground.
”The bullet might have been fired from the automobile and ricochetted from some part of Mr. Felderson's machine.”
I saw the incredible smile that played on the face of the prosecutor.
”That will do, Mr. Thompson,” Kirkpatrick announced, and I pa.s.sed out of the stuffy room into the corridor. Wicks had returned and was standing with Mary. They looked at me with wide and anxious eyes.
Mary saw the droop in my shoulders and caught my arm.
”What happened, Warren?” she asked.
”Nothing yet,” I responded.
”Are they going to----?”