In the case of Jean Gianini we found that it was for revenge of a fancied wrong, that is, according to his own statement. If not that, it may have been a sexual matter. In this case neither motive applies, and we have only two possible theories. The theory of the state was that it was for robbery. Indeed, Roland himself seems to admit that this was the motive. But this again is only a part of his imbecility. He was given a leading question by the prosecution and was weak-minded enough to say, “Yes.”
As a matter of fact one finds it very hard to get any evidence from the whole situation that he really was lead by cupidity. There is no evidence of any elaborate plans in regard to money, either as to getting it or as to what was to be done with it when he got it. March had talked about a thousand-dollar bill, and asked Pennington how he would like to have “that bunch of money.” Pennington says he does not remember saying anything in reply. This does not look as though it aroused any great emotion in him. Later March said—referring to the money Pinkerton was supposed to have “on him”—“Let’s get it.” Pennington asks, “What do you mean?” He is clearly thinking less of the money than of what he begins to dimly understand they are to do. When he understands that they are to kill him, he says distinctly, “No. I won’t kill him.” Never again is the subject of money mentioned. In all March’s urging him to do the deed he never says, “Remember the money,” or alludes to money in any way.
Perhaps we are begging the question. If Pennington were really intelligent and shrewd, he would not say anything in his confession that would supply a motive for the crime. Not only does the whole confession give ample evidence that he was not sufficiently intelligent to protect himself in this way, but the conclusion of the matter shows clearly that it was of practically no importance to him. After the deed, March gave him seven dollars! He said, “I thought there was more.” That is all. He did not insist or complain. He accepted it calmly and without protest. He even proposed to give March half of the four dollars received for the pawned watch. Imagine a nineteen-year-old boy with full consciousness and responsibility killing a man for his money and being so complacent over receiving seven dollars! The theory is not convincing. Even the prosecution, whose whole case depended upon showing a motive, never pretended that Pennington made any stir because the amount was so small.
There is not the slightest evidence, external or internal, that the idea of getting money played any part in Pennington’s share of the crime.
Why then did he consent to begin the matter which George was to finish? It is clearly a case of suggestion. A suggestion, it is true, which never would have worked with a normal nineteen-year-old youth. With this weak-minded boy it is easily understandable. As we study the confession we discover that George March, either consciously or more likely unconsciously, used suggestion most adroitly. Undoubtedly he had learned, through association with Roland for six weeks, that this boy was very simple-minded and easily led. Having reasons of his own for desiring to get rid of Lewis Pinkerton, he first suggests the matter of money, hoping to appeal to Roland’s cupidity. It will be noticed that he nowhere uses the word “murder” or “kill”; even the mild expression, “Make away with him,” he uses only once. When Roland at one time almost takes fright and asks, “Do you mean kill him?” and he admits that he does and Roland says he won’t do that, the older man lulls him to sleep by the suggestion, “Well, you begin and I’ll finish it.”
March tells a story about a blackjack; then he brings the blackjack and gives it to Roland, saying nothing except, “You can do it with that.” Roland is so weak-minded that he takes the blackjack and puts it in his pocket. When the right time comes and the opportunity is near at hand, March stations himself at a convenient place where he will see Roland as he goes back and forth at his work, and for some little time he constantly coaxes and dogs him, pouring into his ears a stream of suggestion such as, “You will have a chance pretty soon”; “Don’t forget”; “Don’t lose your nerve”; “Now you can get him”; “Now nail him.”
It is an interesting little point, possibly only a coincidence but nevertheless a perfectly natural imbecilic association, that the one seemingly original thing that the boy did in connection with the matter was to invent a little trick in regard to the nail in the stall. It is quite likely that even this was suggested by George’s previous expression, “Nail him.”
Even the blow itself does not seem to have been given with normal vigor; having every advantage,—the victim bending over, Roland being behind him and with a blackjack which is capable of thoroughly stunning, if not killing at one blow,—he apparently did not strike with force enough to even produce unconsciousness. His victim was able to talk and to struggle for some minutes, until March, the companion in crime, came up and, as he expressed it, “finished him.”
As to motive, then, we conclude that the defendant had none. He was acting upon the suggestion of George March. Even the poor mind that he had, which under other circumstances might possibly have rebelled at such a suggestion, was lulled to sleep by this man of better intelligence for whom he had been working and who he had learned to think was “good and kind” and on whose judgment he thought he could rely.
Since the Pennington case is typical of the way weak minds work under control of normal minds, it will be worth while to analyze somewhat more fully this idea of suggestion.