MADMAN'S DEMISE

30

There was no doubt Arthur managed to gather himself some sympathy during his testimony. Even I felt with him, knowing most of what he claimed was pure lies. It was just that everything seemed so extremely authentic, like a story like this one was not even possible just to make up. There must've been some truth involved, I thought. He was so emotional. The sorrow and fury so clear even after more than a decade. He was not just some cold-hearted brute like I first thought. Arthur was an emotional man, just like his son, and maybe there was a possibility there was a more specific reason behind why he just abandoned his family all those years ago.

The atmosphere in the assembly was severe, the room so quiet it appeared as if every person seated by the benchbacks held their breaths.

Roscoe still walked back and forth, switching gaze from Arthur to the jury now and then to make sure and keep interest and involvement. His professionalism impressed me. He knew exactly how to do his job properly and at the same time entertain the spectators.

"You mentioned earlier that Joseph Acker made you leave your family. Would you please explain what you meant by that?" Roscoe continued to ask Arthur for further clarity. I knew it was part of his strategy, wanting as much information as possible to come forward to make Arthur's motive even more pronounced and evident.

Arthur sighed, granting himself a second of thought before answering Roscoe's question.

"As I mentioned he threatened me, saying if I didn't leave my family he would come to take them from me. But I refused, even after he kidnapped my newborn daughter...

I started treating my family badly, the urge so strong to control and protect them, keeping them with me. I was mean to my son, Brandon, trying to suppress him only to make him stay at home and not dare to go out. I tried so hard that they hated me, and at the same time, the letters kept coming.

He sent photos, showing me what he was capable of. There were pictures of Joyce Carlton... and Conrad Barney,"

Arthur's mouth twitched and trembled, his eyes closing and fists clenching once again. It was so obvious to me now that this was not an act. He was digging up true happenings. I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat thick and heavy. Whatever Arthur was about to say next, I didn't know if I could hear it. Only mentioning there were photos involved made my stomach turn.

The seconds passed, and Arthur kept quiet, not knowing whether he could continue talking about this or not. So Roscoe made that decision for him.

"Would you please describe what was shown in those pictures?"

Arthur's eyebrows raised, making the wrinkles in his forehead appear and making him look concerned. But he followed Roscoe's request, nodded gently before gathering his strength to keep talking.

"There were photos of Ms. Carlton where she was bound. Her hands and legs tied to the frame of a bed, like a cross. She was completely naked, and I remember she looked nearly unconscious. I recall I thought she was probably drugged. There were also these long, dark marks on her thin body, covering her stomach and thighs. Some of the marks were bleeding, making me realise she had been hit or whipped with something...

Then, the photo of little Conrad... I recall it was only one of them. He was also bound, but lying on the floor with his hands behind his back and his ankles tied together. The picture was taken from behind... those marks covering the little boy's bottom.

It was as the photos arrived I couldn't handle it any longer. He made me feel guilty, as if he put those poor young people through that because of me. So in February 1946, I finally decided to leave and let that monster win. For the safety of those innocent children, and my family, hoping he would be pleased enough to stop with his loathsome doings. If I only knew how wrong I was, having such hope..."

At this moment I was not the only one letting out the tears in here. Snuffles were heard from all around the courtroom, Arthur's words so extremely graphic and sudden. No one in here was prepared for such morbid information. Involving children, it was just too much for many of us, including some members of the jury.

I bit my cheeks, trying to hold back the vomit in my throat. The described details of the photos made me sick on another level. I already knew Joseph was a wicked, sadistic rapist, but this was something way too brutal for me to ever even imagine. Dorothy looked at me, her face strained and exposing the disgust inside her. But there were no tears rolling down her cheeks, just like I would have thought. Her eyes inspected me, and I tried to chin up, taking in her company that gave me strength. She nodded slightly at me, making sure I was okay and stable enough to stay. I nodded back, inhaling deeply and wiping off the salty liquid wetting my cheeks.

Then I glanced over to where Brandon was seated. He was still as a statue. His body not moving one single inch, nor his face. I could see his eyes were open wide even from the side, probably as shocked - if not more - about Arthur's words as everybody else in here. I exhaled heavily, every glimpse of him bringing me heartache but also painful compassion for him. None of us could yet possibly know for sure whether this was all lies coming out of his father.

I didn't believe it. Arthur was way too physical in his emotions to just act. His body language was not something you could practise. It was too wayward and erratic for that.

After granting the crowd a minute of recuperation, Roscoe proceeded with the next question.

"Did you ever go to the police with the photos?"

Arthur shook his head, preparing to respond.

"No I did not. Just as with the letters, there was not enough proof he was the one who took the photos. So instead I decided to keep it all to myself, in hope it would be all over anyway since I had now finally left." He explained. Voice calm and honest.

"But even after what then happened to your family and when there was enough evidence against Mr. Acker, you still didn't come forward to the police with the letters or the photos. How come?" Asked Roscoe.

"Because by then all I wanted was him dead. I didn't have time to go to the police. I spent all my waking hours trying to find him myself."

I was surprised by the way Arthur managed to keep so calm during the examination. Probably because I was prepared for a behaviour that was more like his sons. But then I figured Brandon's insanity and outrage were not originally a part of him, and instead, I came to realise his latest calmness was part of who he truly was.

"And did you find him?" Roscoe already knew the answer to that question, but yet again he wanted to squeeze as much out of Arthur as he possibly could, leading him to continous confessions and making him look more guilty.

"No I did not, Sir. So, after fifteen months of searching, I went after his loved ones instead, hoping he would come forward as he heard his own family faced the same faith as his victims."

"Did he ever come forward?"

"No. That's why I continued, killing Joyce a couple of months later, and then Conrad."

"A moment ago you told us you left your family partly because of those children. Why did you decide to kill them?"

"Partly because I was so vengeful. Partly because I wanted to end their misery. I figured sooner he never stopped abusing them after I left. He even got that poor girl pregnant for Christ's sake!" Arthur spit out his words, his hatred towards the dead Joseph Acker still causing him to boil on the inside. Everything he said was reasonable. I couldn't help but think so.

His version of the story was so similar to the one Brandon told me it was nearly scary. It made me comprehend Arthur understood Brandon. He didn't think what he did was wrong, which was yet another reason why he was doing this.