32
The jury was in, and the courtroom was packed. The trial had been a journalist’s dream, and curiosity-seekers had stormed the courthouse on the off chance they might score a seat. Sarah and Walter had come to support Mary, and surprisingly so had Diamond Jim Brady and Lillian Russell. Of course Sean was there, and so was Harper’s father, Chuck. Even Gilbert had made an appearance. A witness at the trial, he was curious to see how the American justice system worked. Gilbert was there with Ivy Lee, the young college student who was the son of a friend of a friend with whom he’d had a meeting in December. Elizabeth couldn’t make it. She was closing a deal that day on a new butcher shop. She had apologized to Mary and wished her the best, though she had little faith that the court system would convict a wealthy man.
With all her family and friends occupied, Mary had hired a nanny for the day to watch Josie. Just as the bailiff was telling everyone to rise for the judge, Theodore Roosevelt entered the room and stood in the back. Mary noticed him and he nodded to her.
After all the courtroom rituals, it was time for the verdict. The judge addressed the jury. He started with the lesser count, the one involving Mary.
“Mr. Chairman, on the first count of attempted murder, how do you find?”
“We find the defendant, Lance Fuller, guilty.”
There was a collective gasp from the gallery. Sarah grabbed Mary’s hand, giving her a supportive smile. Lance’s parents, who had been sitting behind him, immediately rose, shaking their heads disapprovingly at their son, then left the courtroom as quickly as they could. Lance was now completely on his own. For one odd moment, Mary felt sorry for him, but she soon shook it off.
“Mr. Chairman, on the second count of murder in the first degree, how do you find?”
“We find the defendant, Lance Fuller, guilty.”
The courtroom erupted. Reporters ran out to call their newspapers. Sarah instinctively hugged Mary and they squeezed each other tightly. Sean interrupted so he could also hug his sister. Her friends, all in a congratulatory mood, gathered around her. People she didn’t know, strangers, were patting her on the back as Fuller was being escorted out on his way to prison. After a few minutes, Mary glanced behind her and saw Chuck at the end of the next row. He was silently crying. She turned to her friends.
“Please give me a few minutes. I’ll meet all of you in the hall shortly.”
They obeyed her wishes and left. The courtroom was now empty except for Mary and Chuck. She rose, went to Chuck’s row, walked all the way to the end of the bench, and sat next to him. Chuck was normally one of those stoic working-class men who never showed his emotions. This was different.
He looked at Mary with tears in his eyes. “I miss him,” he said. “I miss him so much.”
“So do I,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “So do I.” And they stayed that way for a while.
When Mary entered the hall from the courtroom, she was set upon by a throng of reporters firing questions at her. They were the usual dumb reporter questions, like “How do you feel about the verdict?” Mary patiently answered them, although sometimes she felt like she was repeating what so many other victims had said over the years. It wasn’t really her fault. The questions were made for certain standard answers. Unless she answered them in an unusual way, such as I was disappointed. I wanted to see my husband’s killer get off scot-free, most of the answers, no matter what words were used, sounded almost cliché. She was not in the mood to play mind games with the reporters, so she answered them earnestly, even though it bothered her that she sounded so unoriginal. In the crowd, she did spot the reporter who had misreported Harper’s murder and couldn’t resist pointing him out.
“Do you now know that my husband was not murdered in Prospect Park but rather near it?”
The reporter nodded, shrugging at his mistake. “Yes, Miss Handley.”
Mary shot back proudly, “The name is Mrs. Lloyd.”
After the reporters had filed out, Gilbert and Ivy Lee approached Mary.
“Mary, my heartiest congratulations,” said Gilbert.
“Thank you. It hasn’t been easy.”
“Well, as we all know, murder and the theater never are.” Mary didn’t react. “That was supposed to be a joke. I guess I’m losing my touch.”
“No, no, sorry. I’ve been out of sorts lately.”
“Perfectly understandable, my dear. Mary, I’d like you to meet Ivy Lee. He’s the son of a friend of a friend, a Princeton boy.”
Son of a friend of a friend sounded very much like it could be the title of a song in a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, but Mary decided not to point that out.
She and Ivy Lee shook hands. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lloyd. Your bravery and intelligence have inspired us all.”
“Thank you, but I doubt I’ve had a wide-sweeping influence on the world.”
“Then let me rephrase that. You have most decidedly influenced and impressed me.”
“Hopefully in a positive way.”
“If it weren’t, I never would have mentioned it. Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. My heartiest thanks to you, Mr. Gilbert, for introducing me. When you’re finished speaking with Mrs. Lloyd, I’ll be outside, sir.” He nodded to Mary and smiled, then left.
“Well, he seems like a very bright, personable young man. Has he taken over for Miss Davies?”
“Oh, heavens no. He came to me with some insane ideas about how to promote The Fortune Hunter. He suggested inserting a few songs so it would be an easy transition for my fans. Can you imagine that: songs in a drama? The boy’s an idiot.”
Mary didn’t think it was a bad idea, but again, she wasn’t a theater person and would never tell an icon of the theater what to do. “I wish you the best with your new play, Mr. Gilbert.”
“And I to you in life and anything you choose to do. It’s been a pleasure.” They shook hands. “And now, back to the moron.”
He went to meet Ivy Lee as Mary joined Sarah, Walter, Diamond Jim, and Russell, who were waiting for her.
Mary sighed. “Finally, I get to be with people whose company I enjoy.”
“Now you know what I have to contend with every day of my life,” stated Russell.
“Are you okay, Mary?” asked Sarah.
Mary paused to make an assessment. “I think I am….I mean, considering all that’s happened.”
“I apologize,” said Diamond Jim. “I should have canceled my trip to Philadelphia and stayed with you that night.”
“No need for that, Jim. It’s truly a double-edged sword. If you had stopped White and Breese, I never would have found out the identity of Harper’s killer.”
Russell said, “I admire you, Mary, but what you experienced was an appalling breach of your womanhood. It will most likely come back to haunt you for some time.”
“It already has. Maybe I can convince Dr. Freud to visit Brooklyn and give me the talking cure for my female hysteria. At the very least it could accomplish irritating my mother, who hates him.”
“Not necessary,” said Sarah. “It’s far too easy to irritate Elizabeth without him.”
“I don’t care how brilliant he is,” said Walter. “ ‘Female hysteria’ is undoubtedly a poor choice of words.”
“Mary,” said Sarah excitedly, “I was waiting for the trial to end so I could tell you some wonderful news.” Sarah paused as she gushed.
“What, Sarah? I could really use it now.”
The words burst out of Sarah’s mouth. “Lillian is going to do Walter’s play.”
“Oh my God, that’s wonderful! Congratulations, Walter!”
“It was all your doing, Mary,” he said. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Not exactly all my doing. You did write it.” Mary turned to Russell. “So Junior liked the play. She has good taste.”
“Actually,” said Lillian, “Junior never read it. To be honest, neither of us was going to because it wasn’t submitted with an offer attached. Then the other day, a rare day in which I had nothing to do, I saw Walter’s script and wondered what kind of playwright Mary’s friend was. Well, to answer that briefly, we have financing and a theater, and casting will commence shortly.”
Sarah hugged Walter. “My Walter’s a playwright!”
“And a darn good one, too,” said Lillian.
Sarah took Mary’s hand. “We’re going out to celebrate. Please join us. Now we have two things to toast.”
Mary suddenly became solemn. “Sorry, but I can’t. I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Are you a baseball fan, Mary?” asked Diamond Jim.
“A little bit, but more a fan of the ever-evolving English language.”
“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” said Sarah. Mary shook her head no. Sarah whispered to her, “Are you okay?”
Mary replied, “I’m fine.”
There’s a shorthand between two good friends. Sarah immediately knew that Mary was indeed not fine. She also knew that now was not the time to discuss it.
“We have to go, everyone,” said Walter. “We have just enough time to make our reservation at Sherry’s.”
“When we get there,” said Diamond Jim, “I’ll break the news to Roger that we’ll be four instead of five.”
“Tell him that number five was me,” Mary suggested. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased.”
Russell approached Mary and placed her hand on the side of her shoulder. “You’re a strong, vibrant woman. Don’t you dare let anyone change that.”
Mary smiled, albeit weakly considering her mood. “Thank you, Lillian.”
The four of them left and Mary was alone in the hall. She had never felt more alone in her life.