“I don’t care,” Proctor told the other two. “I have been too long in the game, and I’m getting to be too old to want to see a couple of fellows go to the chair for something I don’t think they did.”
Hamilton asked Proctor why he had not said more in his testimony about whether Bullet III had gone through Sacco’s gun. “If the defense had asked me any more particularly,” Proctor replied, “then I should have told them I didn’t think it went through that gun, and I did tell the district attorney before the trial I thought it was consistent with going through that kind of a gun, but I don’t think it went through that gun.”
Hamilton wondered why the defense had not taken up “consistent with.”
“I wondered too,” Proctor said. “I suppose they were afraid to.” The conversation made such an impression on Field that he noted it in his diary. Some weeks later he talked the matter over with his old Harvard classmate and partner, H. LaRue Brown. Brown, a Kentuckian whose liberalism had become in Boston almost a second career, knew all about the Sacco-Vanzetti case through his connection with the New England Civil Liberties Committee. He relayed the conversation to Thompson.
Thompson felt that this story—if it could be confirmed—would shatter the prosecution’s case. But whether Captain Proctor would be as frank with a defense lawyer as he had been on that casual ride to Swampscott was doubtful. However, when Thompson visited him at the State House, Proctor was surprisingly open. He admitted that before he testified in Dedham Katzmann and Williams had repeatedly asked him if Bullet III had come from Sacco’s pistol, and each time he told them he had found no convincing evidence in the tests. The captain was obviously distressed in this interview with Thompson, his mind haunted by the role he had played at Dedham. When Thompson asked him if he would sign an affidavit, he at once agreed.
In the affidavit, dated October 20, 1923, he stated that
at the trial the District Attorney did not ask me whether I had found any evidence that the so-called mortal bullet passed through Sacco’s pistol, nor was I asked that question on cross-examination. The District Attorney desired to ask me that question, but I had repeatedly told him that if he did I should be obliged to answer in the negative.... Bullet Number III, in my judgment, passed through some Colt automatic pistol, but I do not intend to imply that I had found any evidence that the so-called mortal bullet had passed through this particular Colt automatic pistol and the District Attorney well knew that I did not so intend and framed his question accordingly. Had I been asked the direct question: whether I had found any affirmative evidence whatever that this so-called mortal bullet had passed through this particular Sacco’s pistol, I should have answered then, as I do now without hesitation, in the negative.
Although this affidavit stood as an entity in itself, Thompson filed it as a subsection of the Hamilton motion. In a counteraffidavit, Katzmann swore that he had not “repeatedly” asked Proctor “whether he had found any evidence that the mortal bullet had passed through the Sacco pistol,” but he did not deny having asked the question, nor did he deny Proctor’s answer. Proctor died in March 1924, before Judge Thayer could rule on any of the supplementary motions.
Early in September 1923 Thompson had picked up a story about Ripley, the jury foreman, that he considered important enough, even though it was hearsay, to include in the first motion. William Daley, a Quincy contractor who said he had known Ripley intimately for thirty-eight years, willingly signed an affidavit about an occurrence at the Adams railroad station during the last week of May 1921. Daley had met Ripley on the platform there while waiting for a train, and Ripley had told him that he was going away for a couple of weeks to be a juror in the case of the two South Braintree Guineas.