A Modern Wizard

"Two or three days."

"Supposing that she had been taking morphine prior to that time, do you think that it might have accumulated in her system, finally producing death?"

"I object!" said Mr. Munson. "The witness is not here as an expert."

"He is the accused," said the Recorder, "and as the party having the greatest interest at stake I will allow him to answer. He simply expresses his opinion. The jury will decide whether it is worthy of credence."

Mr. Bliss smiled with satisfaction, but was a little surprised at the answer, though later he understood better that the Doctor appreciated what he said. The answer was:

"Considering the length of time which elapsed from the moment when I took away the syringe, to the day of her death, I cannot believe that morphine taken previously could have accumulated, and have caused death ultimately."

Mr. Bliss was puzzled and paused a moment to think, whilst Mr. Munson, much pleased at this apparently damaging testimony given by the prisoner himself, wore a pleased expression. Mr. Bliss scarcely knew what to ask next. He glanced at a list of notes supplied by Dr. Medjora and read this one. "Ask me about retained morphine. Go into it thoroughly." The latter part of this sentence convinced him that Dr. Medjora must have conceived his defence along this line, and, therefore, though doubting the propriety of doing so, he ventured another question.

"It has been admitted," said he, "by the expert witnesses that morphine may be accumulated in the system, finally resulting fatally. How does that occur, and why do you think it did not occur in this case?"

"I have not said that it did not occur. You asked me whether morphine taken prior to her illness, may have caused her death, and I said no, to that. I did not say that she did not die from morphine, because I do not know that. As I understand it, when morphine acts fatally by accumulation, it is where it is administered continuously. Part of the dose is eliminated, and the rest stored up. Finally this stored up quantity amounts to a lethal dose. In this case, as far as we know, there was a suspension of the administration. The accumulated quantity, when the drug was stopped, could not have amounted to a lethal dose, or death would have ensued. The dosing being discontinued, the stored-up quantity must have grown less and less, day by day, by gradual elimination."

This interested the jury very evidently. They could not but decide that this man was honest, to offer such evidence as seemed against his own interests. Mr. Bliss, still puzzled, ventured another question.

"You said that your wife may have died of this drug, or words to that effect. How can you think that?"

"Whilst, as I have said, the accumulated drug was lessening in quantity daily, by elimination, nevertheless death by poisoning would have ensued at any time, if a dose of morphine had been administered, of sufficient size, so that when added to that still in the system, the whole would have amounted to a lethal quantity."

"Miss Conlin, the nurse, testified that she saw you administer a dose of morphine. She afterwards admitted that she had only seen you remove a syringe. Did you at that time administer a dose of morphine, a dose large enough to have caused death in the manner you have described?"

"I did not."

"Then as far as you know, your wife did not take any morphine on the day of her death?"

"On the contrary, she did take some!" This was a tremendous surprise.

"How did it occur?" asked Mr. Bliss, still following his notes and at length seeing the point to which Dr. Medjora had been leading.

"She administered it to herself." The Doctor paused a moment as though to allow his startling statement to be digested. Then he continued: "As the nurse testified, I gave her permission to go out. I sat and chatted with my wife a few moments, and then bade her be quiet, lest talking should injure the throat. She obeyed, and after a time seemed to be asleep. I sat over by the lamp reading, and, thinking that my patient was asleep, became absorbed in my book, until I was attracted by an ejaculation from my wife. I went to her, and to my surprise found that she had just administered a dose of morphine to herself. I snatched her hands away, and withdrew the instrument whilst there was yet a little of the solution in it. Miss Conlin came in at the moment. I knew that she had seen me, and not wishing to arouse her suspicions as to the truth, I preferred to let her think that I had given the injection myself. Therefore I washed out the syringe, and placing it in my pocket, took it away with me."

"So that there was sufficient morphine solution left in the syringe, to have enabled Miss Conlin to taste it, as she claims to have done?" Mr. Bliss asked this question, because at last he had discovered the full intentions of the Doctor. It is very often the case in great criminal trials, that, either upon advice of counsel, or by direction of the accused, vital points are left unexplained, or else related with variations which convince the jury that a lie is told. The prisoner having heard all of the evidence, sees that certain acts of his have been viewed, and accepted as proof of his guilt. He becomes afraid, and when asked about these, he denies flatly that they have occurred. Then the prosecution, in rebuttal, brings cumulative testimony to support its first witnesses, and the jury, seeing that the prisoner has lied, conclude that he is guilty of the crime charged. Yet it may be that a man may lie in following a badly conceived line of defence, even though he be an innocent man. Still, it takes a brave man, and a cool one, to go upon the stand and admit damaging circumstances as Dr. Medjora was doing. But Dr. Medjora was undoubtedly courageous, and not one to become confused. Therefore Mr. Bliss, admiring his coolness, decided to give him a chance to relate the very occurrences which when told by the nurse had seemed so conclusive of guilt. Dr. Medjora replied:

"I have no doubt that she could have tasted the morphine in the water in which I washed out the syringe."

"Can you tell how your wife obtained possession of the hypodermic syringe, and the morphine?"

"I did not know at the time. But as it was the aluminum case which has been placed in evidence, it must have been left by Dr. Fisher, unless she abstracted it surreptitiously from his bag."

"Do you know how much morphine she took at that time?"

"No, not positively, but I have no doubt that the estimate made regarding the missing tablets closely represents what she took."

"You mean three and one half grains?"

"She probably took between three, and three and a half grains, as some was left in the syringe."

"Then that self-administered dose was sufficient to cause death?"

"Oh, no. I have known her to take twice that quantity." This statement was also received with much surprise.

"The experts told us, Doctor," said Mr. Bliss, "that a sixth of a grain has caused death."

"Has been known to cause death. Yes. But that does not prove that it will always do so. The habitué becomes wonderfully tolerant of it. The records are replete with histories of from twenty, to even a hundred grains of morphine without fatal result."

"Then you do not think that three, or three and a half grains of morphia would have caused the death of your wife?"

"Not of itself. But if a quantity of the drug was in her system, this added dose may have contributed to her death."

"In such a case where would the morphine be chiefly found after death, by chemical analysis?"

"In the intestines mainly, because there the stored quantity would have been. But also in the stomach, because of the recent administration." This view was entirely agreeable with the expert evidence.

"In your opinion then, your wife died from the accumulation of morphine, all of which was self-administered?"

"Certainly all the morphine that she took was administered by herself."

"But you are charged with having administered morphine, or other form of opium, which caused death. What have you to say to that?"

"I deny that during this last illness, or at any time, any such drug was administered to my wife, Mabel Medjora, by me, or at my order!"

The last speech was electric, partly from the manner of its utterance, and especially because, for the first time during the trial, the dead girl was called by the name of the prisoner. Mr. Bliss felt assured that he had won his case, and yielded the witness for cross-examination with a smile. Mr. Munson begged for an adjournment, that the cross-examination might be continuous, and not interrupted as it would necessarily be if begun late in the afternoon. This request was granted, and the shrewd lawyer thus obtained time to read over the Doctor's evidence, and be better able to attack him.

CHAPTER IX.

THE DEFENCE CLOSES

The next day's proceedings began promptly, Dr. Medjora taking the stand for cross-examination. His evidence in his own behalf, it was generally conceded, had materially weakened the prosecution's case, and it was with much interest that the lawyers watched the outcome of his cross-examination. Mr. Munson began:

"You have testified that Miss Sloane was a morphine habitué." Before he could propound a question based upon this statement, the Doctor replied quickly:

"I have not so testified."

"You have not?" asked the attorney, with much surprise.

"No! I said that she had taken morphine, for pain from Bright's disease, until she had almost become an habitué."

"That is practically the same thing," said the lawyer, testily.

"Pardon my disagreeing with you. Had she become a confirmed user of the drug, for the drug's sake, she would probably have been suspected by those who lived in the house with her, and thus it would be easy for us to produce witnesses in corroboration of my assertion. But as she used it merely to soothe pain, even though she did take large doses, it was at such intervals, that symptoms of morphine were not sufficiently marked to attract the attention of an ordinary observer."

Messrs. Dudley and Bliss were delighted at this early proof that the Doctor would be a match for the astute attorney, who was about to endeavor to entangle him in contradictions, or damaging admissions.

"Oh! Very well!" said Mr. Munson. "You say that she took morphine in large doses. You knew this, and also that she had a serious disease, and yet you left her alone in a strange boarding-house, whilst you went away to Europe?"

"I left her under the medical care of one who certainly possessed skill, and who pretended to be my friend. I went to Europe, in the cause of humanity, to prosecute studies which I yet hope to make a benefit to my fellows." Thus the Doctor confidently predicted his acquittal. This was most shrewd, for it not infrequently occurs that men may be moved by suggestion, even when not in the hypnotic state. Dr. Medjora was a past master in psychological science.

"How long had you been married, at this time?"

"Eighteen months."

"Then, when you left this woman, she was not only suffering from disease, and the dangers of morphine, but she was grieving for her dead child, was she not?"

This was a neat trap, sprung without warning, but the game was shy and wary. The Doctor replied sternly:

"I have not testified either that she had a child, or that, if so, she had lost it."

"Well, did she have a child?"

"You have had expert testimony upon that point. Why ask me?"

"That is my affair. Answer my question."

"I must decline to do so!"

"I appeal to the court to compel the witness to answer."

"Your Honor," cried Mr. Dudley, rising, "we object. Counsel, for some undiscoverable reason, seems determined to probe the private affairs of our client. We think that this question is irrelevant and incompetent."

"What is the object of this, Mr. Munson," asked the Recorder.

"Your Honor has ruled, and a million precedents uphold you, that we may examine into the relations that existed between the accused and the deceased."

"Your Honor," interjected Mr. Dudley, "you allowed a similar question yesterday, because counsel argued, that if he could prove the existence of a natural child, he would show that the deceased through the child had strong claim upon our client. I will also call your Honor's attention to the fact, that at that time allusion was made to another visionary claim on the part of the prosecution. This was that Dr. Medjora was in the position to marry a wealthy woman, and that the poor musician, with her child, became an obstacle in his way. Now, not a scintilla of evidence has been brought out, in substantiation of that claim, which as I said, at that time, was made merely to affect the jury. Moreover, since then, we have shown that this woman was the lawful wife of Dr. Medjora, and, therefore, her having, or not having a child, can have no possible bearing upon the issue. I hope that the question will not be allowed."

"I cannot see," said the Recorder, "what is to be gained by this, Mr.

Munson?"

"Oh, very well, your Honor," said Mr. Munson, "if you think that it is unnecessary to the case of the people, I will withdraw it. We only seek for justice, despite the aspersions of counsel."

"I have no doubt whatever of your conscientiousness," said the Recorder, to mollify the rising anger of Mr. Munson. The examination then proceeded.

"You told us yesterday, that you had received a letter whilst in Europe, in which Miss Sloane wrote that Dr. Meredith was persecuting her with his attentions. Of course you have that letter?"

"No! It has been lost, unfortunately!"

"Unfortunately lost! I should say most unfortunately lost, since it is the only corroboration you had of your remarkable statement. How did you happen to lose this precious document?"

"I think that it was stolen when my office was searched by detectives, who were accompanied by Dr. Meredith."

The insinuation deftly concealed in this statement, that either Dr. Meredith had taken the paper, or that the District Attorney had suppressed it, had a visible effect upon the jury, who looked from one to the other significantly. Mr. Munson was chagrined to find what he had thought a good point in his favor, thus turned against him so quickly. He attempted to repair the damage.

"You say you think this. Do you not know, that what a man thinks is not admissible in evidence?"

"I did the best that I could to answer your question." This reply, in the humblest of tones, caused a smile.

"You have no positive knowledge that it was stolen, have you?"

"I know that it was locked in my desk, that during my absence the desk was forced open, and that upon my return the paper was gone. Whether it was stolen, or whether it forced its way out of my desk, you may decide for yourself."

"You have no evidence, beyond your own word, that Dr. Meredith acted as you have charged?"

"None!"

"You never told any friend, before the death of this girl, that Dr.

Meredith had persecuted her?"

"No. I had no confidants."

"Not even when you found that he had been called in to attend Miss

Sloane? You did not explain this to Dr. Fisher?"

"No. Dr. Fisher was comparatively a stranger to me. I knew him by association in societies only."

"You could have spoken to him however, and so have had Dr. Meredith dismissed from the case."

"I considered the matter, and decided not to do so."

"Why did you come to so singular a conclusion?"

"Because, as I have already testified, despite my animosity, I concurred with Dr. Fisher's estimate of his skill. I thought him the most valuable consulting physician to be had, and, in a case of life and death, I believed that personal antagonisms should be forgotten."

"You say Dr. Meredith was the most valuable consulting physician to be had. Do you mean that he is the most skilled expert that you know?"

"No. But he is skilful and his office is very near to the house where the patient was. That fact was of importance in deciding whether to retain him or not."

Mr. Munson seemed to strive almost in vain to outwit the witness who adroitly parried every attack.

"You have claimed," continued the lawyer, "that Miss Sloane administered morphine to herself?"

"I assert it."

"Then at least you admit that a dose, a large dose, was taken by the deceased in your presence, on the day of her death?"

"Yes."

"And though you, as a physician, were conversant with her troubles and aware of the danger of such a dose, you did not prevent her from taking this dangerous poison?"

"I endeavored to do so. I took the syringe away from her."

"You took it away from her after she had taken nearly all of the dose?"

"She had taken all but five minims before I could reach her."

"It was you who sent the nurse away, I believe?"

"I gave her permission to go out."

"You told her to remain until nine o'clock?"

"I told her that she might do so."

"And this syringe incident occurred at eight o'clock?"

"At eight thirty."

"That is, half an hour before you expected to be interrupted by the return of the nurse?"

"You do not word your questions justly. I did not expect to be interrupted by the return of the nurse. To be interrupted, one must be occupied with some special work. I was not specially engaged."

"You were supposed to be specially engaged watching your patient, in place of the nurse, with whose services you had dispensed. Had you done your full duty, that is, had you done what the nurse would have done, kept your patient under surveillance, she would not have had a chance to take the morphine, would she?"

"It may be that I was grievously at fault, not to observe her more closely. But I thought that she was asleep. An error is not a crime."

"There are errors that are criminal. Your jury will judge in this case. Now, if you please, answer my question without further evasion. Did not the nurse return half an hour sooner than you expected her?"

"She returned half an hour earlier than the time up to which I had given her permission to be away."

"Exactly. Now, had she remained the full time, she would not have known anything about this morphine incident?"

"Of course not."

"In which case, you would have kept it a secret."

"Most probably."

"But, as she did see you handling the syringe, you knew that she would be in the position to testify to the fact that you yourself administered the morphine?"

"It is not a fact that I administered the morphine, but I supposed that she would so testify, judging from what she saw."

"Judging honestly?"

"Yes. Judging honestly."

"So that this professional nurse, accustomed herself to using hypodermic syringes, had a right, as you admit, to judge from what she saw, that you administered morphine to the patient?"

"She saw me taking away the syringe, and of course could conclude that I inserted the needle myself. Nevertheless her opinion was only an opinion; it was not knowledge."

"Very well. You admit that she had a right to her opinion, and that you suspected what that opinion would be. Now, of course you realized, being an intellectual man, that such evidence would weigh against you?"

"I fully appreciated the gravity of the situation."

"And that if not refuted, this testimony almost alone, would tend towards a conviction?"

"Yes."

"Therefore you decided to claim that the drug was self-administered, knowing that the administration would be proved?"

"I knew that the administration of the drug would be proved. But my reason for saying that it was self-administered, is because it is the truth."

"That will be for the jury to decide!" With this parting shot the lawyer dismissed the witness, and his own counsel decided to ask no further questions.

The clergyman who had performed the marriage ceremony, then took the stand, and testified to the validity of the marriage. He was not cross-examined.

Then a celebrated expert toxicologist was called, Professor Newburg. He testified in corroboration of the claims of the defence, and especially to the large doses of morphine, which he had known to be tolerated by persons accustomed to it by habit. It also was claimed by him, that persons who had been known to take as much as four and five grains per day without ill effect, had suddenly died from so small a dose as half a grain. He thought that in these cases the drug had accumulated in the system, and the whole quantity stored up, was made active by the assimilation of the last dose, which of itself would not have been poisonous. Cross-examination did not materially alter his testimony.

Next a pathologist was introduced, and in answer to a long hypothetical question, based upon the testimony of Dr. Fisher and the experts for the prosecution, he said that in his opinion the deceased died from anæmia, following diphtheria. The symptoms of morphine poisoning observed were probably due to the morphine which she had taken, but under the conditions described, he did not think that even three and a half grains would have caused death. He came to this conclusion, arguing that the condition of the kidneys showed that they were diseased, and the tendency would have been to store up this last dose, just as previous doses had probably been retained. In that event only a small portion would have become active, and whilst it might have caused contracted pupils, it would not have caused death. All things duly considered, therefore, he thought that death was attributable to diphtheria.

Under cross-examination he admitted the postulate of the previous witness, that a small dose, following retained larger doses, might cause death, but still he adhered to his opinion that it had not occurred here. A long series of questions failed to shake his opinion, or cause him to contradict himself.

Several other witnesses were called, but I need scarcely introduce their evidence here, as much of it was of small importance, and none of it could have materially affected the verdict. The defence then rested.

Mr. Munson called several witnesses in rebuttal, but to so little effect that Mr. Bliss did not even cross-examine them, considering his case practically won. He did interfere, however, when Mr. Munson at last called Madame Cora Corona.

"I must ask your Honor, what counsel expects to prove by this witness, and moreover, your Honor, I will ask that the jury be sent from the room, before any discussion of this subject be allowed."

This request was granted, and the jury went into an adjoining apartment. Mr. Munson then explained:

"We have been trying for a long time to summon this witness, your Honor, but she has skilfully avoided the court officers, so that it was only this morning that we found her. She will testify to the fact that Dr. Medjora has been courting her, and seeking a marriage with her, even previous to the death of the woman who he claims was his wife."

"That is the most extraordinary expedient I have ever heard of, your Honor," said Mr. Bliss. "Counsel certainly knows better, than to suppose that at this late hour he can introduce new evidence. He certainly cannot claim that this is in rebuttal!"

"But I do claim that!" said Mr. Munson.

"What does it rebut?" asked the Recorder.

"This man claims that he was a true and loving husband to his wife, and denies that he contemplated such a marriage as this one, by which a wealthy wife would aid him to accomplish his ambitions."

"That claim, Mr. Munson, was made by counsel for the defence," said the Recorder. "It has not come out upon the witness stand. You cannot introduce a witness to rebut a statement of counsel. If you wished to introduce this evidence you should have questioned the prisoner upon these points when on the witness stand. Had he denied the desire to marry again, I would have allowed you to disprove his assertion by this witness. As it is, I must rule out the evidence offered."

Mr. Munson bit his lip in mortification, when the Recorder pointed out to him the serious omission made in the examination of the accused, but of course he was powerless to do anything. Having no other witness to call, when the jurors had returned to their seats, Mr. Bliss arose and addressed the jury.

CHAPTER X.

MR. BLISS MAKES HIS SPEECH