Strongwood, page 28
A: Yes, that is what she said, but she was wrong. Mrs. Jacobson is a dear woman who has been very kind to me, but I have found on occasion that her memory is not as sharp as it might be.
Q: Ah, I see. Just another in the long list of people whose memory of events seems to diverge from your own. The fact is, there was no call, was there?
A: There most certainly was.
Q: Only because you say there was. Where is the proof of it?
A: I had no idea, Mr. Boardman, that I would be required to prove its existence. How could I have done so?
Q: Did you mention the call to anyone?
A: I do not believe so.
Q: You see my point, don’t you? The call, like so many features of your fantastic story, is without any kind of independent verification.
A: Well, then, perhaps you are prepared to prove that I did not receive the call. I eagerly await this demonstration.
Q: Ah, you wish me to prove that nothing is nothing, is that it? I decline your offer, Miss Strongwood. Now, let us turn back to what happened at the Windom Block.
—
Q: It is quite a dramatic story that you’ve told, but it isn’t the real story, is it?
A: It is the real story as far as I am concerned.
Q: Let me offer another version. You creep down the hallway toward room four thirteen, but wait, you hear voices, or at least you claim to. And you think to yourself, what if Michael Masterson has brought someone along with him? Your grand plan is suddenly in jeopardy. So you hide yourself in the closet until Mr. Mugliano leaves. Now you have your chance. Now you have Michael all to yourself. And so, Miss Strongwood, you pounce. You pounce on that poor man like a lioness attacking its unfortunate prey.
A: I assure you that it was the other way around. Michael attacked me.
Q: Is that so? I wonder. Do you know what I think, Miss Strongwood? I think you are the wild beast in this affair, not Michael. You are the hunter, aren’t you, looking for rich men you can manipulate for your own greedy purposes?
A: You have accused me of fiction, Mr. Boardman, but it seems to me you are the one with real talent in that regard.
Q: No, I am merely a man who sees through your endless deceptions. The fact of the matter is that Michael refused to pay the ransom you sought. Not only that, but he had an ace up his sleeve, didn’t he?
A: I don’t know what you mean.
Q: Of course you know what I mean. The photograph, Miss Strongwood, the photograph of you stark naked, in Michael’s bed. It must have come as quite a shock to you.
A: I have already said that it did. I was appalled that Michael would have taken a picture even as he ravished me against my will.
Q: Yes, that is your story, isn’t it? But then there’s the matter of the missing face—your face, Miss Strongwood. It was torn right off the picture. You claim that it was Michael who tore the face away, presumably in a fit of anger. Is that right?
A: That is what he told me.
Q: And he is not here to testify to the contrary, is he? But what if that photograph showed you with your eyes wide open and perhaps a smile on your face? What if it was taken not when you were drugged and asleep but when you were in fact enjoying an evening of carnal pleasure with the man you had just seduced? Imagine how damaging such a picture would have been to your relentless campaign of extortion, based as it was on the claim that Michael had raped and impregnated you.
[Objection, Mr. Phelps. Speculation. Overruled.]
Q: You tore that picture, didn’t you, after you had shot Michael down in cold blood?
A: I did not.
Q: You couldn’t quite get it out of his hand, could you? Poor man, he had it in a death grip. But you knew what damage that picture would do if it ever saw the light of day. So you simply ripped away the part showing your face. Ah, what a clever girl you are, Addie, what a clever girl, but maybe too clever in the end for your own good.
[Objection, Mr. Phelps. Prosecutor is testifying, etc. Overruled.]
A: I do not think of myself as clever, Mr. Boardman, and I certainly did not tear that photograph as you have alleged. The only thing I did that terrible night was to fight for my life so that I could prevent a vicious man from murdering me. That is the fact of the matter.
Q: Is it? I submit, Miss Strongwood, that the fact of the matter is that you shot Michael Masterson because he finally decided to reject your blackmail scheme. Not only that, but he showed you a picture of your lovemaking, a picture that you obviously were unaware of, and it made you enraged because you saw that all of your scheming might come to naught. So you shot him straight through the heart and then you watched, with steely calm, as the very lifeblood flowed out of his body. The fact of the matter is that you have no heart or conscience and that you sent Michael Masterson to his grave without compunction or remorse. Now is your chance, Miss Strongwood. For once in your life, speak the truth.
A: I have spoken the truth, but I will speak it again now for all to hear. As I have maintained from the very beginning of this tragic affair, I acted in self-defense and you may be assured that I would do so again in similar circumstances.
—
Q: Now, you stated in the Tribune that after shooting Michael, you cried copious tears before regaining your composure, after which you looked out the office door, only to see Mr. Wangstad, the elevator repairman, at the far end of the hall. Is that correct?
A: Yes, except that as I said, I did not know at the time that it was Mr. Wangstad.
Q: Now, I am curious about the tears you claim to have shed after Mr. Masterson’s death. I believe you said in your Tribune article that you were “sobbing uncontrollably.” Isn’t that right?
A: Yes, that is what I wrote.
Q: Yet Mr. Wangstad testified that he heard no sobbing or crying after the shots were fired. Strange, isn’t it, that he didn’t hear your terrible weeping and wailing?
A: I cannot say how loud my crying was. It is entirely possible that Mr. Wangstad would not have heard me, since the door to the office was closed.
Q: Isn’t it far more likely, Miss Strongwood, that you didn’t shed any tears at all? Indeed, I submit that when you looked out the door after shooting Michael Masterson, you simply wanted to make sure the coast was clear so you could make your getaway. But it wasn’t, was it? Mr. Wangstad had inconveniently appeared on the scene. And that meant you had to act quickly to cover your tracks. I can picture you in that office, bent over Mr. Masterson’s body, frantically trying to remove the damning photograph from his hand before the police arrived. But his death grip was so powerful that the best you could do was tear away a part of it. Isn’t that the real truth, Miss Strongwood?
A: No, it most certainly is not. As I have said, I was devastated by what had happened. I was hardly in any condition to undertake the sort of cover-up that you have alleged.
Q: Is that so? And yet we have heard from both Mr. Wangstad and Officer Sweeney,4 have we not, that your eyes were dry and your manner utterly composed when you talked with them and told them you had shot Mr. Masterson? It is nothing short of amazing how quickly you went from what you have described as a flood of tears to such complete command of your emotions.
A: I only did what I had to do, Mr. Boardman. I knew, as I came out of that office, that I could not allow my emotions to overtake me.
Q: Somehow, Miss Strongwood, I doubt that emotions have ever overtaken you.
—
Q: You have stated repeatedly, have you not, that you lived in fear of Michael Masterson?
A: Yes.
Q: But he had no fear of you?
A: He had nothing to fear from me except that I was prepared to speak the truth about what he had done.
Q: Is that a fact? Why, then, do you suppose that a few days before you killed him, Michael Masterson moved into the Vendome Hotel, even though he had a perfectly fine apartment less than a mile away?
A: I am sure I could not say.
Q: He was deathly afraid of you, wasn’t he?
A: No, as I have said, it was I who feared him.
Q: And yet there he was, hiding out at the Vendome, and so frightened of your threats and your scheming that he’d only agree to meet you if he had a big, tough man along with him, just in case. But you outsmarted him, didn’t you?
A: I do not know if that is true. I could easily have been murdered.
Q: Oh, it is true, as true as anything I know. You’ve outsmarted just about everybody, haven’t you? Michael. His parents. The police. And I imagine you think you can outsmart this jury as well.
[Objection, Mr. Phelps. Speculation. Overruled.]
A: No, my hope is simply that the jury will see the truth in all that I have said here.
Q: I, too, am also confident that the jury will see the truth about you, Miss Strongwood. I have nothing further of this witness, Your Honor.
COURT: Do you wish to conduct a redirect examination, Mr. Phelps?
MR. PHELPS: Yes, I have just a few questions.
Q: Addie, you have testified that after shooting Michael Masterson, you left the office and immediately encountered Officer Sweeney and Mr. Wangstad. Is that correct?
A: Yes.
Q: And you were detained by Officer Sweeney until other police arrived?
A: Yes.
Q: Were you ever out of Officer Sweeney’s view or that of other authorities until such time as you were formally arrested and taken away to the Hennepin County jail?
A: No. They kept a very close watch on me.
Q: And were you subjected to a search of your person after your arrest?
A: Yes, I was asked to empty my coat pockets and to remove my shoes.
Q: And at the jail, was a more thorough search undertaken by a matron there?
A: Yes.
Q: If fact, you were forced to remove all of your clothes. Isn’t that right?
A: Yes.
Q: Even your bodily functions were subsequently monitored, were they not, to see if you had swallowed anything out of the ordinary?
A: I am embarrassed to say that such was the case.
Q: But despite all of these efforts by the authorities, the missing portion of the photograph was never found, was it, thereby lending credence to your testimony that Michael Masterson tore your face from the picture out of sheer spite?
[Objection, Mr. Boardman. Calls for conclusion on part of witness. Sustained.]
Q: I have nothing further, Your Honor.
COURT: Then court will adjourn until ten o’clock Monday morning, when the jury will hear final arguments.
From the journal of J. Winston Phelps, January 29, 1904
7:30 pm—coldest night yet, heading for -25—well, its done at last, except for the finals, jury instructions, etc—cant say Im brimming with confidence but not pessimistic either—many, many things in this case dont add up one way or another & people who have never seen a trial find this amazing—yet it is always so & most trials come down to figuring out who is telling biggest lies.
Which brings me to my client—damn that girl!—not a word to me about being in Windom Block before big event—“Why didnt you say so, my dear?” I asked & she said, “Oh, I forgot”—ha, ha & ha!—but how she finessed it was a thing of wonder & beauty—quick as cat on her feet & so good at deflecting Boardman—god help me for saying so but she should be a lawyer.
Boardman is an ass but after this is done I will buy him a drink & commiserate re Addie—unless, of course, I lose—then he will be buying.
—
Shad called at 830 & said hes expecting letter from Holmes any day now re the case—interesting to think that even greatest detective of all seems fascinated by our little Addie.
—
Excerpts from a letter from Sherlock Holmes to Shadwell Rafferty, January 31, 1904
—
The device is a very small camera, called the Photoret,5 which is designed to resemble a pocket watch. I acquired one some years ago while in New York and have kept it with me ever since, as I find it quite useful. Indeed, I have come to employ it in so many interesting circumstances that Dr. Watson has, on more than one occasion, accused me of ungentlemanly behaviour. But as we both know, a good detective is rarely a perfect gentleman. In any event, when I saw the photograph of Miss Strongwood, which is square in format and has beveled corners, I suspected at once that it was an enlargement made from a Photoret snapshot.
I have since taken several new pictures with my Photoret, among them three snapshots of Miss Strongwood on the witnesses stand. I did so in order to reassure myself that photographs can be taken secretly with the camera even in the most public of situations. The experiment proved to be a success, as no one in the courtroom appeared aware that I was doing anything other than consulting my watch. Incidentally, I sent one of the snapshots to Mr. Phelps, who was no doubt mystified by it. Please tell him that I intend no harm to his case and that I am content to let the jury determine Miss Strongwood’s guilt or innocence.
We know, thanks to Mr. Thomas’s efforts, that Jonathan Jakes owns a Photoret and also has a small darkroom in which to develop the pictures.6 The fact that the photograph of Miss Strongwood was taken with a Photoret strongly suggests that it was made in a surreptitious manner, either by Mr. Masterson or by Jakes. We know from Mr. Jakes’s testimony that both men possessed standard Kodak cameras, so it is logical to assume that they used the Photoret solely for the purpose of taking pictures secretly, presumably during their many amorous exploits. It is likely that Mr. Jakes has in his possession numerous photographs of a scandalous nature obtained with the camera. Unfortunately, Mr. Thomas was unable to find any such pictures during his little expedition, which leads me to believe that Mr. Jakes has taken great pains to hide them away, since they constitute the ultimate proof of his and Mr. Masterson’s utterly dissolute character.
Now, having dispensed with all of these preliminaries, let me tell you what I think happened on the night Mr. Masterson was killed.
—
1. The Trial of Adelaide Strongwood described Mugliano as “a burly, hot-tempered man whose criminal nature was quite apparent to all. . . . Although he repeatedly denied playing any role in the case, his bellicose demeanor, shifty eyes and crude manner did not leave a good impression with the jury.”
2. A mimeographed copy of this letter was found in the papers of J. Winston Phelps. It is possible the letter was turned over to Phelps as part of the prosecution’s evidence in the case. It is also possible that Phelps, who apparently had a source in Boardman’s office, obtained the letter by extralegal means.
3. Hilda Jacobson testified that she could not recall answering a telephone call for Addie Strongwood on the evening of November 8, although she admitted on cross-examination that her memory “might not be perfect.”
4. Officer Michael Sweeney’s testimony echoed that of Wangstad. He stated that “Miss Strongwood was very matter-of-fact in describing what she had just done. She didn’t seem flustered at all.”
5. The Photoret camera, made by the Magic Introduction Company from 1894 to 1901, was among the smallest cameras of its time. Disguised as a pocket watch, it could take six half-inch square photographs on a round sheet of film. The camera cost $2.50 and was widely advertised for its ease of use.
6. This reference leaves no doubt that Wash Thomas was enlisted by Rafferty and Holmes to break into Jonathan Jakes’s apartment to look for a Photoret camera and other evidence. Both Holmes and Rafferty occasionally resorted to burglary as a means of gathering evidence. One of Holmes’s most notable burglaries occurred in 1899, when he broke into the safe of a blackmailer, a story told by Dr. Watson in “The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.” Thomas would have had no trouble breaking into Jakes’s apartment, since he was an expert locksmith, as noted in The Magic Bullet.
Eight
Excerpts from The Trial of Adelaide Strongwood
—
As might be expected in a case of such consequence, the final arguments were highly anticipated, and the courtroom was filled to overflowing when, on the morning of February 1, Frederick Boardman gave the prosecution’s summation. Although Mr. Boardman claimed center stage, Miss Strongwood, as always, drew her fair share of attention from the spectators. Dressed in a brown wool gabardine skirt and lace-trimmed white blouse, she sat perfectly straight in her chair, her folded hands resting on the defense table. Now and then she adjusted her long black hair, which was bundled atop her head and tied with a white ribbon, but otherwise gave no indication of nervousness. She appeared to nod slightly in the prosecutor’s direction as he rose from his chair and looked directly at him as he delivered his arguments over the span of nearly three hours.
He began by reviewing, in a very meticulous manner, all of the evidence that he contended must point directly to Miss Strongwood’s guilt. Time and again, his theme was that the defendant, despite what he called “her fancy way with words,” was a woman given to “deceit and calculation,” and that Michael Masterson was “caught in her web of intrigue as surely as the poor fly struggles to escape the wily spider.”
Among the points he emphasized were these:
That Miss Strongwood had lied about stealing two silver spoons from the Van Dusen residence, an act he said demonstrated her “corrupt nature.”
That she had lied about her work as “a paid seducer of men in a disreputable Chicago dance hall.”
That she had lied about her first meeting with Michael Masterson, which in fact must have occurred in Chicago, and that it was “she who pursued him, and not the other way around.”
That her claim to having been ravished under the influence of drugs by Mr. Masterson was a “fabrication of the first order” designed to disguise her “drunken seduction” of his best friend, Jonathan Jakes.
