Etna wants to stand and shout,
Untrue!
Mr. Hastings, beside her, puts a restraining hand on her arm.
“Dean Van Tassel, you have a position of considerable importance at Thrupp College, do you not?”
“Yes. You yourself have just addressed me as Dean.”
“You must have many duties.”
“I do.”
“Has this left you time to be with your son?”
“As much time as any father with serious responsibilities has. Nicodemus is in school for most of the year, so I can rarely see him then, except for Parents’ Day and so forth. I try to have him all the other days of the year, although he is a popular boy and is often invited to stay with his friends. Since I think it of the utmost importance that he should fit in at the school and make good friends, I often agree to these invitations.”
The sour expression on Mr. Bates’s face indicates that he is sorry he has asked that question. Perhaps he would like to get his client off the stand as soon as possible.
“Dean Van Tassel, do you think your wife a fit mother for your son?”
“I can hardly call her wife. I have not seen her in three years. Before today, I am not sure I could have described her. No, she is not a fit mother at all. She abandoned both of her children needlessly. She broke their hearts.” He pauses, and his face threatens to lose its composure. “May I also say that she broke mine.”
Etna knows this to be a true statement.
“I have no further questions for this witness,” says Mr. Bates.
“May I return to my duties at school?” Van Tassel asks the judge.
“No, sir, I am afraid you cannot. Be patient a while longer, if you would. Mr. Hastings, do you have any questions for this witness?”
“I do.”
“Very well, proceed.”
Mr. Hastings stands, adjusts his suit coat, and approaches the witness box. He is all business. “Dean Van Tassel, did you in the summer of 1915 ask your daughter, Clara, to lie?”
“Objection! We have been over this material.”
“Your Honor,” argues Mr. Hastings, “I think it important that we hear the story from Dean Van Tassel’s point of view.”
“Objection overruled.”
“Dean Van Tassel,” says Mr. Hastings, “you may answer the question now.”
“Not precisely, no,” Van Tassel says. “She may have misinterpreted something I said. Children do that all the time.”
“We are speaking of the matter of Mr. Phillip Asher having touched your daughter inappropriately.”
“Of course we are.”
“When Clara made the inappropriate gesture referred to earlier in these court proceedings, you knew it was not true.”
“It may have been true. How was I to know?”
“As I understand it, Clara admitted the lie later in the summer. She said you had asked her to lie.”
“Children are often fanciful, Mr. Hastings.”
“If we had Clara here, what would she say about the matter?”
“Objection!” says Mr. Bates, rising to his feet. “You are asking the witness to speculate.”
“Objection sustained.”
“Dean Van Tassel, how long has it been since you have seen your daughter?”
Etna scrutinizes her husband. He has been evasive, but he cannot sidestep this question.
“I have not seen her since September of 1915.”
“And why is that?”
Van Tassel swallows. Etna can see the color rising in his neck. “After my wife abandoned us, I consulted with my sister, Meritable Root, who lives in Gainesville, Florida. We corresponded. Clara seemed beside herself with grief for her mother, who had abandoned her. My daughter would not speak with me about the matter, which did not surprise me. A daughter always wants her mother at that age, does she not? It was decided that Clara would stay for a time with Meritable and her family until such time as Meritable deemed Clara fit to return.”
“But that has not happened, Mr. Van Tassel, has it?”
“No, and I fault my sister on this matter.”
“Do you? During this time, did you write to your daughter or receive letters from her?”
Van Tassel turns his head away from the lawyer. Etna remembers Van Tassel’s love for Clara when she was young. The way they used to take walks together, the girl’s hand so tiny in his. Such ruination, such destruction. And all Etna had to do so long ago was to say no to Van Tassel’s proposal in the parlor of her sister’s home.
“No,” Van Tassel answers finally. He sits up straight and adjusts his vest.
“Did you, in the summer of 1915, write and send two letters describing Clara’s charge of impropriety on Mr. Phillip Asher’s part? These would have been to the chief of police in Thrupp, and to the president of the college?”
“I may have done.”
“Did you understand the seriousness of those accusations?”
“Of course I did. I did not, nor have I ever, acted dishonorably.”
Etna is struck by Van Tassel’s pronouncement. She is certain that he practiced it before his appearance in court. She wonders if he actually believes it.
“Mr. Van Tassel,” Mr. Hastings continues, “can you tell the court the number of days your son has lived with you this past year?”
“Of course not. No parent counts the days a child is with him.”
I do, Etna thinks.
“Have you ever been to the Hackett School, at which your son is enrolled?”
“Of course. I settled him in.”
“And when was that?”
“Two and a half years ago now.”
“Who takes him to school and back on vacations and holidays?”
“Well, due to my heavy schedule, it is often not convenient for me to ferry him back and forth, and so I leave that to our housekeeper, Abigail, who can now drive a motorcar.”
“Can you tell the court what sports your son plays at school?”
“I do not believe he is old enough to play sports.”
“Can you tell me what your son’s interests are?”
“His schoolwork takes all his time. He has none left over. I imagine his interests are the normal ones for boys.”
“Your Honor, that is all at this time.”
“Dean Van Tassel, you may sit down,” says Judge Kornitzer. “But your presence is required in the courtroom.”
“Really? Must I stay? I have said my piece.”
“You will remain in this room until court is adjourned. There may be additional questions for you later.”
Counsel for the Relator calls Headmaster Edward Price to the stand.
“Good day, Mr. Price.”
“Good day.”
“You are headmaster of the Hackett School for Boys.”
“Yes.”
“How long have you held this post?”
“Eleven years.”
“Mr. Price, you understood when Nicodemus was first brought to the school that he had one guardian only?”
“It was not precisely stated. But neither Mr. Van Tassel nor his son mentioned a wife or a mother. When I finally questioned Nicky, he said, ‘She has gone away and left us.’”
“When Mrs. Van Tassel did appear in your office in February of 1917, did you not think to call Mr. Van Tassel and inform him of the woman’s presence?”
“Not at first. I simply thought she had come back from wherever she had been. I did note that she was staying at the hotel across from the school, but that is not at all uncommon for the parents of our boys. Nicodemus, I remember, seemed very pompous when he saw his mother for the first time. He referred to her as his aunt, which alarmed me, but when I was looking out the window for their return after the noon hour, I saw Nicky give his mother a quick hug. Later, I began to wonder why Mrs. Van Tassel always stayed at the hotel and why her husband was never with her. I queried her on this at her next visit. She said she was estranged from her husband, and that she did not inform him of her visits. I felt that my obligation was to the parent paying the bills, and so I called Dean Van Tassel twice, once at the college and once at home. I left a message with his secretary at the college and a message with his housekeeper at the house. Mr. Van Tassel returned neither of those telephone calls. I felt that I had discharged my duty, and I confess I was reluctant to see any harm befall the relationship between Nicky and his mother. I could see the good it was doing the boy.”
“You did not attempt to reach Mr. Van Tassel at a later date?”
“No, I did not.”
“I have no further questions.”
“Mr. Price, you may step down,” Judge Kornitzer says. “Thank you for your testimony here today.”
“You’re welcome.”
Counsel for the Relator calls Edward Ferald to the stand.
Instantly, Etna feels a charge, like one that precedes an electric storm. Ferald is a man her husband used to hate.
Perfectly tailored and coiffed, Ferald seems not to have aged at all. Well, why should he seem older? It has been only three years since she last saw him. That in itself seems an astonishing fact. Has it been only three years? It is a lifetime and more to Etna.
“Mr. Ferald, can you tell the court how it is that you know Dean Van Tassel?”
“The man was once my professor. He failed me in his course. Later, after quite a successful career, I attained a position as head of the board of corporators of Thrupp College, and I knew Mr. Van Tassel in a different way then.”
“Can you be more specific?” asks Mr. Hastings.
“We had recently lost a beloved dean of the college, and it was up to the board to select from among several candidates the one best suited to step into Noah Fitch’s shoes. Mr. Van Tassel was a candidate. I did not think much of the man—and not simply because he had once failed me; I rather think I had risen above that—but because he seemed weak. Not only in his scholarship, which I had reason to believe fraudulent, but also in his ability to be a leader.”
“When you say that Mr. Van Tassel’s scholarship was fraudulent, what do you mean?”
Van Tassel stands. Etna thinks he is about to open his mouth and lodge a protest against this witness. Perhaps he plans to. To everyone’s surprise, however, he simply turns and leaves the room. When Etna glances at Ferald in the witness box, he has a small smile on his face. Has he, once again, triumphed over his old rival?
“Mr. Bates, is your client taking a personal break?” asks Judge Kornitzer.
“No, Your Honor. I am sorry to say that my client just announced to me his intention to leave the courtroom and return to his duties at Thrupp College.”
“Did you tell him he would be held in contempt of court for such an action?”
“I did not have a chance to, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Bates, you do not seem to have any control over your client.”
“I am sure he will return.”
“Are you? He will pay a hefty fine for that walkout. Mr. Hastings, I am sorry for this interruption caused by Mr. Bates’s client. You may proceed.”
Ferald can barely contain his pleasure.
“Mr. Ferald, I had just asked you to explain what you meant when you said the words ‘fraudulent scholarship’ in relation to Mr. Van Tassel.”
“As I was researching Mr. Van Tassel during my deliberations as to his candidacy, I came across a notation of a meeting between the previous dean and Mr. Van Tassel. It was a matter of plagiarism. I will not bore the court with the details of the case, but I did call Mr. Van Tassel into my office to discuss it.”
“How did he react?”
“He was upset. He denied the charge, even though Dean Fitch had made clear notes on the matter. I think the fact that Mr. Van Tassel immediately dropped his candidacy for the post after our meeting speaks for itself.”
“Mr. Ferald, we do not allow things to speak for themselves in court,” says Mr. Hastings. “Did you think Mr. Van Tassel guilty of plagiarism?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Is this a crime the college takes seriously?”
“Oh, I should say so. For a professor, there is no greater crime.”
“Why have charges not been brought against the man?”
“At the time, I felt that the resignation of his candidacy was enough punishment. As I no longer am associated with the college, I cannot bring the charge myself. I imagine the notes are still there, if Mr. Van Tassel has not destroyed them.”
“Objection!” This from Mr. Bates. “The witness may not speculate on Mr. Van Tassel’s behavior.”
“Sustained.”
Mr. Hastings turns toward the judge. “Your Honor, I request a small break at this time. Yesterday I received correspondence that I believe will have bearing on these proceedings, and I wish to study the letter more thoroughly. I have brought copies of this letter and will give them to both the court and to Mr. Bates should I decide to use it. And I see that we are once again nearing the noon hour.”
The judge checks the clock on the wall. “The court will recess for one and a half hours so that we may eat,” he says. “Court will be in session at two o’clock.”
“What letter?” Etna asks when her lawyer returns to her.
“I’ll tell you later. I suggest you try and eat something.”
T
he Honorable Judge Kornitzer calls Mrs. Van Tassel to the stand.
“Mrs. Van Tassel,” begins the judge. “Did you enjoy your lunch?”
“I did. Thank you, Your Honor.”
“Well, I much enjoyed mine. I have several short questions I should like to ask, as they have been bothering me as we near the end of this hearing.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How and where would you and your boy live if you were to gain custody of the child?”
“We would live at One seventeen High Street in Grantham.”
“Where you now reside.”
“Yes. We would live as mother and son. Mother and son and daughter, when Clara can be with us.”
“Will you be removing the boy from the Hackett School for Boys?”
“Yes, I will. I will be entering him in the primary school in Grantham.”
“A public school,” muses the judge. “With a lesser reputation.”
Etna squares her shoulders. “That depends upon one’s point of view. Though I have tremendous respect for Headmaster Price, I believe Nicky should be schooled in a more democratic environment and be allowed to form friendships in the neighborhood where he lives.”
“Don’t you think it might be upsetting for the boy to be removed from the only school he has known?”
“It might be at first, but I doubt it. He has great need of family right now, of a mother specifically.”