A. I am a tolerably good chemist, and have spoken understandingly. Potassium cyanide, KCN, is a white, crystalline compound, and could hardly be used in a hypodermic syringe save in solution, in which condition it would not have been sufficiently poisonous to have served my purpose.
At this reply many of the audience exchanged approving glances. They believed M. Latour had shown himself quite a match for Maitland in not falling easily into what they regarded as a neat little trap which had been set to prove his lack of chemical knowledge. They attributed Maitland’s failure to further interrogate Latour upon his understanding of chemistry as evidence that he had met an equal. To be sure, they were not quite clear in their own minds why Latour’s counsel should be at such pains to carefully examine a man who had already confessed, but they believed they knew when a lawyer had met his match, and felt sure that this was one such instance. Clinton Browne, who sat in one of the front seats, seemed to find a deal more to amuse him in this incident than was apparent to me. Some men have such a wonderful sense of humour!
Maitland continued:
Q. When Mr. Darrow was murdered he sat in the centre of his parlour, surrounded by his daughter and invited guests. Will you tell the Court how you entered and left this room without detection?
Again the witness hesitated and looked irresolutely, almost tremblingly, about him, but seemed finally to steady himself, as it were, upon Godin’s glance. It’s a strange thing how the directness and intense earnestness of a strong man will pull the vacillation of a weak one into line with it, even as great ships draw lesser ones into their wakes. The excited audience hung breathlessly upon Latour’s utterance. At last they were to know how this miracle of crime had been performed. Every auditor leaned forward in his seat, and those who were a trifle dull of hearing placed their hands to their ears, fearful lest some syllable of the riddle’s solution should escape them. M. Latour remained dumb. The Judge regarded him sternly and said:
“Answer the question. How did you enter the Darrow parlour?”
A. I—I did—I did not enter it.
Again a half-suppressed exclamation of surprise traversed the room.
Q. If you did not enter the room how did you plunge the hypodermic syringe into your victim’s neck?
It seemed for a moment as if the witness would utterly collapse, but he pulled himself together, as with a mighty effort, and fairly took our breath away with his astounding answer: