now. I have gone into all the evidence very carefully and I have convinced myself, as I
will convince you, that these two people are innocent. Please let me make it clear to the
jury that I am not representing Lawrence Douglas. He has his own counsel and a very able
fellow he is. But it has been alleged by the state that the two people sitting there are fellow
conspirators, that they have plotted and committed murder together. So if one is guilty,
both are guilty. I tell you now that both are innocent. And nothing less than the corpus
delicti will make me change my mind. And there is none.”
Chotas’ voice was growing angrier. “It is a fiction. My client has no more idea than
you do whether Catherine Douglas is dead or alive. How would she know? She has never
even met her, let alone harmed her. Imagine the enormity of being accused of killing
someone you have never laid eyes on. There are many theories as to what could have
happened to Mrs. Douglas. That she was murdered is one of them. But only one. The most
probable theory is that somehow she discovered that her husband and Miss Page were in
love, and out of a feeling of hurt—not fear, gentlemen—hurt, she ran away. It is as simple
as that, and for that you do not execute an innocent woman and an innocent man.”
Frederick Stavros, Larry Douglas’ attorney, gave a surreptitious sigh of relief. His
constant nightmare had been that Noelle Page would be acquitted, while his client would
be convicted. If that happened he would become the laughing-stock of the legal
profession. Stavros had been looking for a way to hitch onto Napoleon Chotas’ star and
now Chotas had done it for him. By linking the two defendants together as he had just
done, Noelle’s defense had become his own client’s defense. Winning this trial was going
to change Frederick Stavros’ entire future, give him everything he had ever wanted. He
was filled with a feeling of warm gratitude for the old master.
Stavros noted with satisfaction that the jury was hanging on Chotas’ every word.
“This was not a woman who was interested in material things,” Chotas was saying
with admiration. “She was willing to give everything up without hesitation for the man she
loved. Surely, my good friends, that is not the character of a scheming, conniving
murderess.”
As Chotas went on, the emotions of the jurors shifted like a visible tide, reaching out
toward Noelle Page with growing empathy and understanding. Slowly and skillfully the
attorney built up a portrait of a beautiful woman who was the mistress of one of the most
powerful and richest men in the world, who had every luxury and privilege lavished upon
her, but who in the end had succumbed to her love for a penniless young pilot she had
only known a short time.
Chotas played on the emotions of the jurors like a master musician, making them
laugh, bringing tears to their eyes and always holding their rapt attention. When his
opening address was over, Chotas clumsily shuffled back to the long table and awkwardly
sat down, and it was all that the spectators could do to keep from applauding.
Larry Douglas sat in the witness box listening to Chotas’ defense of him, and Larry
was furious. He did not need anyone to defend him. He had done nothing wrong, this