The Redhead of Rajastan: Chapter 8, The Case of Count Davidoff, The Trial
“All rise,” Constable Singh, a uniformed bailiff wearing a turban, ordered. “Court is now in session, Judge the Honorable Richard Dexter presiding.”
Once the judge, a middle-aged Englishman, was comfortably seated at his bench, the bailiff invited, “You may be seated.”
“The Sultan of Rajastan and his Subjects vs. Malachi Ford,” Judge Dexter read aloud from a manila folder. “Is the prosecution ready to proceed?”
“We are, Your Honor,” the bewigged Idris Alkanar replied. He wore a European-style gray three-piece suit under a black cotton capelet.
At the defense table, barrister Wm. P. Das wore a similar black capelet and white wig over traditional native clothing. Next to him, solicitor G. R. Premchand also wore native clothing, but no wig or capelet, since he was a solicitor rather than a barrister. Malachi Ford wore a cheap, ready-made American blue suit.
“is the defense ready?” Dexter asked.
“Yes, Your Honor.” Before answering, Das looked at Premchard and Ford and frowned slightly.
“Mr. Ford, in the matter of the murder of Nikolai Pavlovitch Davidoff, how do you plead, guilty or not guilty?” asked the judge.
“Not guilty, Your Honor,” Das pled for his client.
“The prosecution may call their first witness,” Judge Dexter ordered.
“Dr. Delany, Seamus Delany, please,” Singh called.
Dr. Delany stepped forward.
“Bible or Koran?” the bailiff asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Bible.”
The judge waved a hand at the witness box in invitation. Delany stepped in. Singh offered the doctor the Bible. He put his hand on it.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God?” the bailiff asked.
“I do.” Dr. Delany raised the Bible to his lips and kissed it in confirmation of his oath.
Please state your name for the record,” Judge Dexter directed.
“Seamus Delany. Seamus Mohandas Delany, M. D.”
“Prosecutor Alkanar, you may begin your questioning now,” the judge informed him.
Alkanar stood up and stepped forward. “Dr. Delany, where were you on the night of Friday, March 17th?”
“I was at Jackson’s Jazz Club, in the backroom, playing roulette.”
“What happened at Jackson’s that night?” Alkanar asked.
“I was summoned to the front of the club because one of the customers had taken ill.”
“Who was that customer?”
“Count Nikolai Davidoff.”
“What happened?”
“He drank something that disagreed with him.”
A few members of the courtroom audience tittered at his litotes.
“Order in the court.” Dexter brought his gavel down.
“I consulted with Dr. Cameron, the police surgeon, the next day. He determined that Count Davidoff had ingested nicotine juice.”
“The autopsy report will be entered into evidence,” Alkanar pledged. “What could you say about Count Davidoff’s health? Was he strong enough to resist the effects of nicotine poisoning?”
“He was in his early thirties, and in reasonable shape, for a man who didn’t exercise much, didn’t eat a healthy diet, and drank far too much alcohol. “I would not have expected him to reach his eighties, nor would I have expected him to resist the effects of ingesting that much nicotine. It would have killed a heathier man, let alone Count Davidoff. A fraction of that much poison made his companion quite ill. Had they not exchanged drinks, she most assuredly would have died.”
Ford took a deep breath.
“Could he possibly have ingested the nicotine juice by accident?” Alkanar asked.
“No, it was given to him quite deliberately. M. Bourdette of the police forensic laboratory found nicotine juice in the count’s drink.”
“Your Honor, I should like at this time to enter M. Bourdette’s lab report and Dr. Cameron’s autopsy report into evidence, “ Alkanar requested.
“Let these be marked Sultan’s Exhibit A and Sultan’s Exhibit B,” the judge directed.
“The witness is excused,” Akanar said. “Call the next witness.”
“Chief Constable McGregor, Angus McGregor,” Bailiff Singh called.
The chief constable stepped forward. He wore his dress uniform. Singh offered a Bible. McGregor stepped into the witness box, then placed his hand on the Good Book to take the oath.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God? Singh asked.
“I do.”
“Please state your full name and occupation for the record,” the judge directed.
“Angus Robert McGregor, Chief Constable of the Rajastani Police Force,” he stated, although he knew the judge knew that perfectly well.
“Chief Constable McGregor, what do you have to say about this matter?”
“I was telephoned to come to Jackson’s on St. Patrick’s Day. One of their customers had collapsed and foul play was suspected,” McGregor explained. “I brought four constables with me.”
“What did your investigation uncover, Chief McGregor?”
“That Count Davidoff and Miss Jasmine — her legal name is Yasmeen Mohammed — had ingested nicotine juice. Malachi Ford had motive, means, and opportunity.”
“What were those motive, means, and opportunity?” Alkanar asked.
“In addition to being pianist at Jackson’s, Ford also gardened for Miss Jackson. Nicotine juice is used as a weedkiller. Ford had easy access to it. He was also jealous of Miss Jasmine’s relationship with Count Davidoff.”
“Objection,” Das stood up. “It has not been established that any relationship existed between Jasmine and Count Davidoff.”
“Sustained,” Dexter allowed. “What was the relationship between Mr. Davidoff and Miss Mohammed?”
“I am told, and this is hearsay,” McGregor qualified, “that Count Davidoff often bought Jasmine drinks and danced with her on a regular basis. Jasmine, at least, had conflated this into a romantic relationship in her mind. She was convinced that he intended to propose to her.”
“A Russian nobleman intended to marry a native dancing girl?” Alkanar asked.
“It seems unlikely,” McGregor allowed, “but the feminine mind is a mystery. What and why a woman thinks is a bigger mystery than the police can solve.”
“Apparently, Ford had an infatuation with the young lady, and was jealous of Count Davidoff,” McGregor reported.
“Objection. Hearsay,” Das protested.
“Miss Jackson was the one who told me Ford ‘was sweet’ on Jasmine.”
“Hearsay nonetheless,” Das said.
“Means, motive, and opportunity, you said,” Alkanar pressed on.
“Hold,” the judge ordered. “I have yet to rule on these objections, Mr. Alkanar. You will kindly wait. This is not the Cheltenham Races; we are in no hurry.”
“The jury will remember that this is gossip only, and not proven.”
MvGregor announced, “Ford interfered with Davidoff’s drink. He could have added the nicotine juice at that time.
To Be Continued
