Courtroom number one was a chapel for the state, simple but grand. Though the courtroom was old and worn, it was well kept. The floors were scrubbed every night, the wood was polished, and even the hardest to reach light bulbs were kept fresh. There were no cobwebs in the corners of the twenty foot ceiling, and every pane of the ten large windows was clean. The dais for the judge was nearly seven feet high, not even the tallest of lawyers could see over the top when they approached. The witness stand was attached to the right of the judges perch. It was raised so that a seated person could look directly into the eyes of a lawyer, it had a comfortable chair on casters. The jury box was separated from the rest of the room by a railing with turned oak styles, it was reached from a private door exited into the deliberation room. The galley was separated by a thick oak rail. The furniture was solid and well worn, warm honey oak that glowed in the sun streaming through. There were five windows on each side of the room that went form shoulder height nearly to the ceiling. They had one foot by one and a half foot frosted panes of glass. The tops of the windows were tilted in to let a breeze pass though on this hot summer day. The lights hung on slender rods, at night they cast a web of shadows. The floors were natural terrazzo that shone like glass. Courtroom number one was where the senior-most judge sat.
Amelia Krakowski aged 76, short and wrinkly, sat alone in courtroom number one clutching at her purse and listing to the low murmur coming from the hall outside of the courtroom. Her eyes darted up to look nervously at the courtroom before shifting back to her small black purse. She gave a small start when George Mason banged through the double doors at the back of the courtroom.
“Oh its just you George, how much longer do you think?”
“Not long now, don’t forget to call me Mr. Mason alright?”
“Sorry Geor…Mr. Mason, I—not much longer?”
“Are sure you’re up for this Amelia? There isn’t a single person that wouldn’t understand if you didn’t take to the stand. Your written statement is more then enough.”
“You said my taking the stand would give a friendly face for the jury, and that would help James, wouldn’t it?—Yes I thought so. Don’t you go worrying about me George, just help that young man.” She gave Mr. Mason a smile to reassure him, it didn’t do much for her, she hadn’t been this nervous since her wedding day.
“Alright, just a few more minutes ok? The press is gumming everything up.” Mr. Mason stood with a lingering look at Mrs. Krakowski. She was wearing her good hat, white with a bouquet of silk petunias red, blue, purple and pink on the right side, wispy lace slightly hiding a band of ribbon, shot brim. No glasses, she has some but the make her look frumpy. Small pearl earrings, with a matching necklace from her dear departed Tobias, and a full set of her original teeth. Nice simple lace summer shawl over a light brown dress with soft purplish brow polka dots, cinched at the waist with the included matching belt. And a small black purse on the end of a thin strap. He couldn’t have asked for a better witness.
---
“Would you say Mrs. Walters that leading up to Thursday night that there was anything suspicious going on with your neighbor?”
“Well…its like I was telling you before Mr. Mason, on Wednesday I was going down to catch a bus to go to the farmers market on 97th, th- the one that they have every Wednesday, and as I was going past Jenny’s er, Ms. Sparrow’s, door I heard her arguing with someone.”
“What did they sound like Mrs. Walters?”
“Angry.”
“Were they a man, a woman…?”
“Oh! oh, yes they sounded like a man he wasn’t yelling, but he was angry about something and I could hear them in the hall.”
“Could you hear what they were talking about Mrs. Walters.”
“Well I, I mean, you know you feel like you should look after your neighbors and well you aught to just check?”
“So you heard what they were talking about through the door?”
“Yes but, but only a little bit mind you, and I wasn’t snooping—I was just making sure Jenny were all right.”
“The conversation Mrs Walters.”
“Well he kept going on about some old suitcase, and I could hear poor Jenny crying, it sounded like he wanted to know where her brother, oh that’s James, he was such a nice boy always used to carry my bags up for me…where he had put this case, oh he sounded bad Mr. Mason. His voice made you skin crawl just hearing it.”
“You mentioned Mr. Sparrow was he in the apartment too?”
“No, I hadn’t seen James cense he left on his ‘grand adventure’ five, six years ago.”
“So you did not hear him in the apartment?”
“No, just Jenny and that man.”
“And you’re sure it wasn’t James in the apartment.”
“No, erm yes? … what I mean is..It wasn’t James Mr. Mason, that voice was much older than James’s.”
“Did you hear anything else in the hallway that day Mrs. Walters.”
“No, I had to go or I would miss my bus to the farmers market, they only come once every hour you see.”
“Yes, that’s fine now lets skip ahead to the night after that.”
“Friday night?”
“Yes.”
“Well I was sitting down with my dinner to listen to my radio programs, I like to listen to the dramas while I eat my dinner, well I was just setting up my tray and waiting for the radio to warm up when I heard a door slam next door, that would be Jenn- Ms. Sparrow’s apartment, so I went into the kitchen to, to get a glass of water, and I could hear another argument going on.”
“Was it the same man as before?”
“Yes, he was there again.”
“So it was just this man and Jenny Mrs. Walters?”
“Um.”
“… Mrs. Walters was there anybody else?”
“Yes, I could hear James too.”
“Are you sure it was Mr. Sparrow’s voice?”
“Oh yes it was James alright, he grew up next door, I knew him when he was just a little boy running around, and after their parents—after they, well I practically raised them.”
“Alright, could you hear what the argument was about Mrs. Walters?”
“It was harder to hear though the wall, but I was near the vent and …um”
“Its alright Mrs. Walters, what did you hear.”
“James and this man were having a very heated conversation, I have never heard James Sparrow sound like that in my life, he sounded so scared the poor dear, and Jenny was crying again, oh those poor children such a hard life after their parents, oh those poor dears.”
“Its alright Mrs. Walters continue when you can.”
“Oh I’m sorry, it’s just well you get close to people you know?”
“What were they talking about?”
“That man was still going on about that suitcase, apparently James was supposed to have it, and I guess he didn’t, and he was threatening James and calling him a rat, oh he was such a cur! OH! oh dear excuse me!”
“Its alright Mrs. Walters this is a very emotional subject.”
“Thank you Mr. Mason, where was I? Yes he was saying James had broken a deal with somebody, and that somebody wasn’t very happy, only he used such vile language, and that James had better return the suitcase, than he said he was going to take some collateral, that made James mad, I couldn’t hear what he was yelling they must have gone into a different room, I could still hear Jenny sobbing that poor girl, well James and this fellow had it out and a minuet or so later there was another door slam and the man had left, I tried to get to the hall to have a look but I don’t very fast anymore, when I went back to the kitchen James and Jenny were talking, but it was too quiet to understand, and my diner was getting cold and didn’t want to waste a meal.”
“What time of the evening was this Mrs. Walters?
“Well it was just before 8, that’s when my program comes on you see.”
“Good, now lets talk about the day in question... It’s allright Mrs. Walters, we can take a short break before we continue if you like.”
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