Blessed are the Merciful (6 page)

T
HE SUN WAS JUST BEGINNING ITS CLIMB
into the hazy sky, but its warmth was already heating up the streets of Philadelphia. A short, stubby man of sixty stepped down from a carriage in front of the
Philadelphia Enquirer
building. As he crossed the sidewalk, other
Enquirer
employees were also arriving.

He passed through the double doors beside a younger man, who greeted him. “Have a nice weekend, Mr. Corwin?”

“Not bad, Norm. Would’ve been better if the weather was cooler.”

“Can’t disagree with that, sir. But then, it’s August. What can we expect but heat and high humidity?”

“That’s it, I guess,” Corwin said with a chuckle.

He made his way to the second floor and headed for his office. Just outside his door, two men huddled together over some papers. To the older one Corwin said, “Is he ready, Lance?”

“Yes, sir. We worked on it for a couple of hours Saturday afternoon, so our promising young apprentice reporter is ready for his first big story.”

“Only with your expert help,” Derek Mills said. “I’d be scared stiff to tackle this story without your coaching.”

“We all needed help when we first went into the newspaper business, Derek,” Corwin said. “This will be a good start for you. With everybody in the city keyed up about this trial, we’re printing two thousand extra issues each day the trial lasts.”

Derek smiled. “I want to thank you again, Mr. Corwin, for allowing me to write this story. I couldn’t ask for a better employer than you, or a better tutor than Lance.”

Corwin laid a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “You’ve got the stuff, kid. If I didn’t see it in you, I wouldn’t have put you with my star reporter. Now, you gentlemen finish up what you’re doing and be at the courthouse good and early.”

Corwin entered a glassed-in office with lettering on the door that read: JIM CORWIN, EDITOR IN CHIEF.

“All right,” Lance said. “Let’s go over the basic facts. Tell me what you have so far.”

Derek shuffled the papers before him, putting them in order. “Today is the first day of the trial for police officer Seth Coleman, who has been charged with the murder of fellow officer Lawrence Sheldon. Such a charge has never before been brought against a police officer in the state of Pennsylvania. For that matter, it has only happened one time in the history of this country … in Bangor, Maine, in the summer of 1797.”

“Correct,” said Lance. “And in that case the accused officer committed suicide in his jail cell before the trial, leaving a note confessing that he had killed his fellow constable over a woman.”

Derek looked at the paper in his hand. “The judge in this trial is the honorable Lucius P. Shagley. The prosecuting attorney is Hansel Vandeveer. The jury is made up of a dozen prominent Philadelphia businessmen. The defense attorney for Officer Coleman is Adam Burke, a dazzling young associate in the Benson, Smith, and Walters law firm. Burke, now twenty-four, graduated from Harvard University Law School in May 1873, and was hired by George Benson, senior partner of the firm almost while still in his cap and gown.”

Derek felt Lance’s eyes on him. He looked up, caught a look of disapproval, and cleared his throat. “Sir?”

“I wouldn’t use the word
dazzling
when you write it. Granted, Burke is a sharp lawyer for his age, but you really don’t need an adjective like that.”

“All right. I’ll come up with something less potent.”

“You need to be careful about that kind of thing until you see how the trial turns out, then go with your flashy adjectives.”

“All right, sir.”

“And since Burke is young for a lawyer, you’re on solid ground to give his age in the first story. But I’d leave out that ‘cap and gown’ stuff.”

“Whatever you say.” Derek scratched through a few lines with his pencil and stared at the paper for a moment. “What about if I say that Burke is engaged to the beautiful Philipa Conrad, the spoiled and snobbish only child of Philadelphia’s wealthiest and most prominent attorney, Philip Conrad III?”

Lance snorted. “You’re kidding, of course.”

“No, I’m not kidding. Everybody knows that Philipa is spoiled rotten and sticks her nose up at people she thinks are below her.”

“I mean about putting that in print.”

Derek laughed. “Gotcha!”

Lance grinned and shook his head.

“Seriously, Lance, wouldn’t it be newsy to let the readers know that the defense attorney works for another firm but is engaged to Philip Conrad’s daughter?”

Lance rubbed his chin. “Mmm. I wouldn’t put that in unless Burke wins the case for his client. If he does, that’ll be chewy stuff for the public.”

Derek nodded and made a note to himself.

Lance looked at the clock on the wall. “We’d better get going. You’ve got the basic things down. We’ll work on them some more after we see what happens today. By the way, you didn’t mention that Officer Seth Coleman is single. You ought to include that in your first write-up. People want to know about family and that kind of thing.”

Derek made of note on the pages, then said, “Officer Sheldon was also unmarried, correct?”

“That’s right,” Lance said as he closed a side desk drawer. “Coleman has no family at all. Sheldon’s parents, Jack and Thelma Sheldon, will be at the trial, along with some cousins. Didn’t I give you that information?”

Derek shuffled papers for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Yes, you did. I’ve got it right here.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

When Lance Rankin and Derek Mills arrived at the Philadelphia County Courthouse, they spotted reporters from the town’s other two newspapers on the courthouse steps and gave a civil nod, acknowledging their presence.

Lance pointed out police chief Mandrake Bennett as they entered the courtroom. Bennett was sitting with several off-duty police officers. On the second row, center section, sat Jack and Thelma Sheldon, along with friends and relatives. Lance and Derek took seats behind the police chief and the other officers.

Ten minutes before the trial was scheduled to begin, the courtroom was packed, and there were people in the hall who had gotten there too late to get seats.

The jury filed in from a side door. Immediately behind them came the accused, Seth Coleman, along with a uniformed officer on each side of him. On their heels was Adam Burke.

A door opened on the other side of the room, and the bailiff came in with prosecuting attorney Hansel Vandeveer behind him. Vandeveer took his seat at a table to the left of the bench, and the defendant and Adam Burke sat at a table to the right. The two uniformed men moved to the door they had entered with the prisoner and leaned against the wall.

The court reporter entered and made his way to a small desk near the bench, notepad in hand.

There was a murmur of voices across the courtroom, but the sound faded quickly and died out as the door to the judge’s chambers opened and the bailiff said loudly, “All rise!”

When the shuffle of feet subsided, the bailiff spoke again: “Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Lucius P. Shagley presiding.”

It was an equally hot day on Wednesday, August 8, and the courtroom was just as packed as it had been the previous two days. Women throughout the crowd used small fans to create a breeze on their faces.

Silence prevailed as the prosecuting attorney walked away from the jury box, having just delivered his final argument before the jury would retire for deliberations.

Adam Burke leaned close to his client and said, “Here goes. We’re going to win, Seth. You just hold on.”

Seth Coleman tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

A few rows back, Lance Rankin focused his eyes on the words his apprentice was scribbling on his notepad. Derek was describing the contrast between the dark-haired, brown-eyed attorney and his blond, blue-eyed client.

Judge Shagley looked at Adam over half-moon spectacles and said, “Mr. Burke, you may now approach the jury to make your closing argument.”

Adam patted his client’s shoulder and made his way to the jury box.

He gazed at the twelve somber-looking men and said, “Gentlemen, no one in this courtroom envies your position. You have on your shoulders a very heavy responsibility. My client’s life is in your hands. We are all deeply sorry over the loss of Officer Lawrence Sheldon, who faithfully wore his badge and served this city well. My concern now is that we not lose another fine officer who has equally worn his badge and served us well.”

Hansel Vandeveer leaped to his feet. “Objection! Your honor, Mr. Burke is forgetting that Seth Coleman is on trial for murder. Such a crime would nullify any prior service to the city when Mr. Coleman wore his badge. Mr. Burke is planting misleading information in the minds of the jury.”

The judge was about to speak when Adam Burke said, “Your honor, may I respond to Mr. Vandeveer’s objection?”

Shagley nodded. “You may.”

“Thank you. Your honor, Mr. Vandeveer objects to my statement that Officer Seth Coleman has worn his badge faithfully and served this city well, saying that I am forgetting that my client is on trial for the murder of Officer Sheldon. I am not forgetting that fact at all. But Mr. Vandeveer is forgetting the foundational letter of the law: that my client is considered innocent until proven guilty. Therefore, I believe my statement regarding Officer Coleman’s record as an honorable member of our police force plants nothing but the truth in the minds of these gentlemen who comprise the jury. His record stands by itself.”

The judge nodded. “Objection overruled.”

Vandeveer sat down, a scowl on his face.

Adam turned back to the jury. “Gentlemen, you have heard the prosecution declare that the two witnesses to the murder of Officer Sheldon positively identified my client as the man they saw stab Sheldon to death on the night of July 10. Yet, under cross-examination, you heard both witnesses falter in their answers when I asked them point-blank if they could, without hesitation, pull the trapdoor lever on the gallows to send Seth Coleman to his death for the murder they say they saw him commit.

“You are aware that my client has no alibi for that night, since he was off duty and has sworn under oath that he was home alone at the time the murder was committed. The two witnesses saw the killer stab Officer Sheldon three times, then run away. The witnesses have sworn under oath that it was Officer Seth Coleman they saw commit the murder and run away. Yet they are not so sure that they could pull the lever that would bring about his execution. You can see, then, that there is room for reasonable doubt.”

Hardly a sound was heard in the courtroom except for the dull rustle of fans.

“In the prosecuting attorney’s closing statement, he wanted to be sure you kept in mind that men in the Philadelphia Police Department know the accused and the victim had not gotten along
well. Fine. Let me point out, however, that being at odds with a man is one thing; murdering him is another. And there is no conclusive evidence that Officer Coleman committed the crime.

“As you now retire to contemplate the case and decide my client’s fate, please remember that on the first day of this trial, Chief of Police Mandrake Bennett, while under oath, presented to this court the impeccable record of my client as a police officer. Seth Coleman has put his life on the line many, many times in the past three years to protect the citizens of this city. Since there is reasonable doubt as to this officer’s guilt, the only right and proper verdict for you to bring back to this courtroom is not guilty.”

Burke took a deep breath and let it out. “Thank you for your kind attention, gentlemen. I have no doubt that you will do the right thing.”

Judge Shagley addressed the jury about their duty to consider all they had heard from both the prosecution and the defense, and to carefully arrive at their verdict. When the jury was out of the room, Shagley adjourned the court until such time as the jury returned.

Near the back of the room, Lance Rankin whispered to Derek Mills, “Let’s go out to the hall and go over a few things. I think it’s a bit cooler out there.”

They sat down on a bench and Rankin said, “Let me have a look at your notes.” Mills handed over his notepad, and Rankin’s eyes scanned the notes carefully. After a few minutes he handed them back and said, “Excellent. You’re doing well.”

A smile broke over Derek’s face. “Whew! I’m glad to hear you say that!”

“I’ll help you word some of these details so they’ll blend with what we’ve already written for tomorrow’s paper. If the jury comes back with the verdict I think they will, we’ll have us a knockout of a story.”

When Rankin and Mills returned to the courtroom, they glanced at the Sheldons, who were in a hushed conversation with family and friends. At the defendant’s table, lawyer and client sat
quietly, waiting for the jury to return.

The jury had been out for just over an hour when they filed in and took their seats in the jury box. The judge entered, and everyone in the courtroom rose to their feet at the bailiff’s command.

When the judge and the audience were seated, Judge Shagley declared the court once again in session, then turned to the twelve men seated to his left. “Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”