MADMAN'S DEMISE

31

Slowly but surely, we were reaching the end of Arthur's testimony, his every spoken word and description having left me overwhelmed and in shock. I could never have prepared for this. Especially not after what I was told about him.

I expected cruelty, rudeness, a stone-cold approach. Yet a lot less care and showing of emotions. But I turned out to be so wrong. He was nothing of what I had imagined. His behaviour far from what thought I could predict. He was as unpredictable as his son.

Roscoe was still walking around in the front of the Victorian assembly, his questions helping to lead Arthur in the direction of liability.

"Mr. Barlowe, I have a question regarding the military committee meeting list where your name was signed. Did you attend this meeting on October fifth 1949?"

Oh no... I thought. I didn't want Roscoe to head this way. Albeit I knew it had to be done, it wrenched my gut knowing this was one of the most crucial parts of the whole case.

"I did not, Sir." Arthur responded politely. His certitude making him look confident.

"So how come your signature is on that list?"

I swallowed hard. Begging for another uncomplicated answer.

He can do this, he can do this... I persuaded myself.

"I was the colonel of my unit, therefore I had access to every document in the committee's archives. I signed the list a couple of days later."
And just as if he'd heard my prayers, Arthur explained himself so simply, the nervousness in me descended for a slight beat. For anyone who didn't know about this plot, this was trustworthy. Arthur was an exalted commissioned officer. Because of his position, he was naturally a man just to trust.

But so was Leo Myer... and now what was left was his piece of evidence against Arthur's words...

"I see..." Roscoe nodded while listening to Arthur, his eyes moving to look at the twelve jury members who were all listening carefully while taking notes. Their faces were impossible to read. Their expressions so deadpan it made them look as if they were all made of stone.

"So, Mr. Barlowe... was it after your claimed killing of Conrad Barney you told Brandon to confess to the offences?" Roscoe continued.

"Yes it was," Agreed Arthur.

"The police started to show interest in me. They were on to me and I knew it. So I spoke Brandon into confessing to my crimes to the police, telling him I had a plan to hunt down Acker, and also that his confession would save me from a death sentence."

Although I knew this part of the story was a pure lie, I almost got fooled by it since Arthur sounded so extremely dependable. The story itself was not very improbable. Any kid could be manipulated by their parent, not least an already vulnerable one, and I figured it was probably not the first time the jury had heard a story like this one, where the child saves the parent from death row after being told to do so. Also, it was with the way Arthur spoke so calmly and regularly, it made him appear even more authentic. He knew exactly what to say all along. He didn't stutter or correct himself except for when it got too emotional for him, or when he did it on purpose only to seem more guilty. He had planned this for a long time, prepared himself thoroughly, and it was so clear to me.

So although I was still torn by the fact that the case was as good as lost already due to the strong previously presented pieces of evidence, Arthur had now proved to his son that he meant every word of what was said in that phone call and written in that letter Brandon received one month ago. He had done everything that he possibly could now.

He misled Frederick Harding, managed to fool him and turn against him as it was time for Roscoe Van Doren to step forward. He had told a story that was reasonable and trustworthy without messing up or appearing hesitant or nervous. He had memorized dates and years, ages and names, and been speaking about details that could be crucial for the verdict. He had kept to his words, to his plan, not turned his back on his son this time, which I was most grateful for...

I could barely sit still no longer. Arthur's testimony had been going on for nearly three hours now, and although every word was exciting - and undoubtedly touching - to listen to, I could no longer keep myself from thinking about how it would end. He could still change his mind, burst out in evil laughter and tell everyone it was all just a nasty joke. He could still mess up, forget about something he already said and mix up important details.

The unwitting made me unpatient and nervous, and now I was just longing for his testimony to be over. I was already sick to my stomach, hungover and heartbroken. I couldn't handle much more hardships if I was to walk out of here in proper shape.

I inspected Roscoe across the room. His stout figure now standing still in front of the witness, allowing a few seconds to pass only to keep the tension in the room. But then he opened his mouth. His dark, professional voice echoing through the high-ceiled assembly.

"I have one last question for you, Mr. Barlowe...

Do you still have the letters and the photos you claim to have received from Joseph Acker?"

My heart now hammered beneath my ribcage. I didn't even think about that. I was so caught up in thinking whether the story was even true, I was not at all prepared for that question. I was not even sure there ever existed actual letters or photos.

Now I couldn't either manage to read Arthur's face and predict his answer. It drove me mad, his relaxed face. And just like Roscoe, he was an expert in conducing the severe tension in the courtroom. He didn't spare any time.

But then I heard Judge Sawer calling out.

"Please answer the question, Mr. Barlowe!"

So, within a long, deep breath, and a concealed expression of seriousness, Arthur lastly responded.

"Yes I do, Sir."