AS I WALKED down the courthouse steps, a reporter from the New Orleans Item took my elbow to ask how I thought the first day had gone.
“Exactly as expected,” I said. “Justice will be served here.” I took my arm back and kept walking.
I followed the cinder path around the side of the building. The giant oak trees in the square provided the only real shade in the center of town. I felt twenty degrees cooler the moment I stepped under their branches and took a seat on a bench.
I sliced the edge of the envelope with my fingernail. Inside was a single typewritten sheet on gold-embossed White House stationery.
Dear Capt. Corbett,
The eyes of America are upon you, and upon the proceedings in Eudora. I can assure you that with my own (four) eyes I am personally watching you and the trial at every moment.
I know you will continue to do your best, and I know that you will succeed in this endeavor, as we succeeded together during the late War.
Ben, know that your president is with you every inch of the way.
Sincerely yours, I remain
Your obt. servant,
Theodore Roosevelt, Pres’t.
I smiled at the president’s little joke about his “four eyes,” but when I realized the meaning of his subsequent words, my stomach took a nervous dive. As if I didn’t have enough tension to deal with, now the president of the United States was “personally watching” me “at every moment.”
I read the letter again and put it back in the envelope.
A voice called, “Mr. Corbett, sir.”
I looked to both sides and saw no one.
Again the voice: “Mr. Corbett? Over here, sir, behind you.”