"Why is that?"
"Well, he wasn't of our cla.s.s."
"I see." Howe smiled indulgently, as he might toward a naughty child who had decided to behave. "Thank you, Mrs. Breckenwood. You've been most enlightening."
Howe was exultant, but the rest of the day was torture for me. Mr. Scott next called Hiram Grace, a man who certainly had no love for me. I was not a good wife or a woman who knew her place, he said. He found these things as disquieting as murder. But as for insanity . . . I'd made foolish decisions. I was perhaps drinking. That was what he thought, and no wonder-any female who had married so far beneath herself must be unhappy. But I'd brought it on myself.
And what did Hiram Grace think of William? Howe asked. Hiram answered that William was a good stockbroker, that he'd made Grace some money over the years, but even DeLancey Van Berckel, William's own father-in-law, had not been able to get William into the Knickerbocker Club.
"DeLancey sponsored him, but there was something about him. Not quite of our cla.s.s, you know," Hiram Grace said. "No one knew where he came from. Newport, you say, hmmm? No, I didn't know. No one did."
Chapter 32.
The next day the district attorney questioned Dr. Moore, who had been so ready to prescribe my laudanum, and who stated with a.s.surance that my only illness lay in the fact that I coddled my moods like any other woman. After that, Mr. Scott called Dr. Little to the stand.
The asylum superintendent was dressed in a dark brown suit b.u.t.toned so high that his dark satin necktie puffed just beneath his chin. His thinning hair was shiny with oil, and his gla.s.ses were gone, revealing the dull mud of his eyes. He did not look at me as Mr. Scott called him to the stand, and he sat with an air of n.o.ble superciliousness that had reporters muttering.
Howe squeezed my arm and leaned close to whisper, "He'll play right into our hands."
I nodded and pulled away, twisting my fingers in my lap. I was almost sick with apprehension, more so than I'd been with any of the other witnesses.
Dr. Little told the jury of his credentials. Mr. Scott started the testimony by asking, "What is insanity, Dr. Little?"
"That's a complex question, Mr. Scott," Dr. Little said. He laid one hand over the other, resting them on his dark-clad knee. "But I suppose, in layman's terms, that a person is insane if he cannot control his impulses-and, more importantly, if he cannot tell right from wrong."
Mr. Scott smiled. "That's a precise statement indeed, Doctor. Can you tell us how you know the defendant?"
The doctor paused. Now he looked at me, with a sad, pitying expression. "She was a patient of mine."
"When did you first see her?"
"She and her husband consulted with me a little over a year ago. She was having hysterical episodes. I made a diagnosis of uterine monomania."
"What exactly is uterine monomania?"
"Abnormalities in Mrs. Carelton's uterus cause a reflex action in the nervous system, subjecting her to extreme mood changes, which may range from mild depression to intense hysteria."
"Did you suggest a treatment?"
"I did. I suggested she be placed in an asylum."
Mr. Scott nodded gravely. "Did Mrs. Carelton follow your advice?"
Dr. Little looked affronted. "She did not."
"In your opinion, was that a good idea?"
"Absolutely not. I warned her and her husband that she would grow worse."
"What did Mr. Carelton say to that?"
"That they planned to have a child, and he felt that would solve Mrs. Carelton's problems. I warned him that a child might make her problems worse."
"I see. Did you see Mrs. Carelton again after that visit?"
"Not until a year later. July twentieth, to be exact."
"Under what circ.u.mstance?"
Dr. Little glanced at me again. I bowed my head to study my hands. "Mrs. Carelton was being committed to my care at Beechwood Grove."
"What is Beechwood Grove?"
"A private asylum."
I heard a murmur from the back of the courtroom, the scratching of pencils, loud whispers. I did not dare look at the jury, but I felt them watching me with pitying curiosity.
"How long was Mrs. Carelton at Beechwood Grove?"
Dr. Little's voice became clipped. "She was there until October fifth. About two and a half months."
"Do you know, Dr. Little, what took place the next day, October sixth?"
Dr. Little's face looked cast from stone. "I understand that she killed her husband."
"Is this something you could have antic.i.p.ated, Doctor?"
Little shook his head. "It was most emphatically not. Mrs. Carelton made excellent progress. At Beechwood Grove we pride ourselves on our exacting care, and Mrs. Carelton received the very best treatments available. Had there been any doubt of her sanity, she would be there still. I a.s.sure you, Mr. Scott, that when Mrs. Carelton left us, she was quite sane, as I told her husband she would be."
"Did she have control of her impulses?" Mr. Scott asked.
"Yes. Very much so."
"Could she tell right from wrong?"
"Oh yes. Certainly."
"Would you say that she would have understood the consequences of her actions?"
"Mr. Scott, she was as sane as you or I."
"Could she have been clever enough to fool you?" Mr. Scott asked.
Dr. Little reddened. "I am a highly qualified physician, Mr. Scott, and she is only a woman."
"Yes, of course. You're saying there is no possibility at all that she could have been insane when she left Beechwood Grove?"
"None at all. I told you, we made excellent progress. When she left, she was in perfect health. I would stake my reputation on it."
"So, in your considered opinion as a doctor who has treated Mrs. Carelton: Would you say she was in her right mind when she shot her husband?"
Dr. Little stared at me. I felt all the eyes in the jury box following his gaze. "Absolutely. Yes. I believe she knew exactly what she was doing when she killed her husband."
I waited for Howe to protest. When he did not, I whispered in his ear, "How can you let him say such a thing?"
Howe gave me a quiet smile. Mr. Scott finished his questioning, and Howe's expression was rea.s.suring as he stood and went to the witness box.
"Dr. Little," he said. "When Mrs. Carelton first came to see you, what results was she hoping for?"
"What results?"
"Yes. What did she want your treatment to provide?"
"She wanted her health to improve."
"Would you say she was disturbed by her bouts of hysteria?"
"Oh yes. Very disturbed."
"And she wanted profoundly to live a normal life as wife to her husband?"
"Yes."
"Did you see any signs at all that she disliked her husband or was angry with him?"
"Not when I examined her."
Howe nodded. He turned to the jury, and in a deeply dramatic voice, he said, "I see. So would you characterize Mrs. Carelton as a woman who wished to be rid of her 'uterine monomania,' and who wanted to find peace and contentment with her husband?"
"Yes," Dr. Little said carefully. "That is how I would characterize her."
"How was it that she came to be at Beechwood Grove, Doctor?"
"By carriage."
Howe rolled his eyes and smiled. There was a snicker from the jury. "I meant under what circ.u.mstances."
"She was committed for treatment."
"Committed? Do you mean involuntarily so?"
"Well, yes," Dr. Little said. "Her husband was very concerned."
"In your opinion, was Mrs. Carelton happy about being taken to Beechwood Grove?"
"No." Dr. Little took a deep breath. "But that is not unusual either. Many of our patients are so ill they don't realize that Beechwood Grove is the best place for them."
"Do most patients argue with you, Dr. Little?"
Little nodded. "Oh yes."
"What was Mrs. Carelton's argument?"
"She tried to tell me that her husband had made a terrible mistake, that she was, in fact, much better."
"You didn't believe that?"
"No. Given my previous diagnosis, that would have been very difficult to believe. Such stories are a common tactic among the insane. She also told me that Mr. Carelton had her committed because she embarra.s.sed him."
"How so?"
"She said he discovered that she was having an affair with her doctor."
Another loud murmur. I squeezed my eyes shut.
"You didn't believe her?"
"No sir, I did not. It is not at all uncommon for those suffering from monomania to experience delusions. Mr. Carelton had said she was behaving inappropriately, that there were several instances of reckless s.e.xual behavior. He was very disturbed by it, but I know for a fact that he did not believe Mrs. Carelton was having an affair with her doctor. He told me so himself."
"Tell me something, Dr. Little: Isn't it true that Mrs. Carelton did not begin to make progress at your asylum until you brought in another doctor-a specialist who'd had some experience with women's nervous disorders?"
Dr. Little frowned. "Why, yes."
"How did Mrs. Carelton respond to his care?"
"Very well. Very quickly. We were all quite amazed."
"Amazed enough to begin utilizing some of his techniques yourself?"
Dr. Little nodded. "Yes. We've had good results."
"Could you describe this treatment?"
"Hypnosis," Dr. Little said. He leaned forward as if sensing the need to defend himself. "I know it seems odd, but it's been remarkable, how well it can be used for cases of Mrs. Carelton's type."
Howe nodded. "You told us earlier that Mrs. Carelton was quite sane when she left Beechwood Grove, isn't that so?"
"Yes, yes."
"And you would attribute that sanity to this doctor?"