A Book of American Martyrs(83)

“Was it because your parish in Lincoln was unhappy with you? Complained to the bishop about your sermons? Wasn’t that it?”

“It was a confluence of reasons . . .”

“‘A confluence of reasons’—can you explain?”

“I did not feel—I do not feel—that the Catholic church has been sufficiently active in opposing abortions—legalized infanticide—in the United States . . .”

Stockard spoke haltingly. He was very ill at ease, with a sallow, damp-looking skin, a faint stammer. His face was long and morose and his mouth quivered with emotion.

“You were disciplined by your bishop—wasn’t that it, Mr. Stockard? You were moved out of the parish and forbidden to ‘recruit’ anti-abortion protesters . . .”

“I elected to quit the priesthood. I was not ‘fired.’ My decision to quit was not made quickly but after much anguish . . . I still have strong ties to my parish in Lincoln. I have strong ties to my beliefs. I am not so alone as people think.”

Jenna saw how, for the first time since the start of the trial, Luther Dunphy lifted his head, and regarded the witness with concern. He was sitting very still, his fists now on the table in front of him. Stockard, in the witness chair, stared blinking at the prosecutor as if he feared about what the prosecutor would ask next.

But the prosecutor only asked Stockard to describe what he’d seen at the Women’s Center on the morning of November 2, 1999.

Stockard said that he’d just glimpsed Luther Dunphy that morning, and had not spoken with him. Dunphy had hurried past him without seeming to see him standing on the sidewalk in front of the Center, just before the attack.

He had not, Stockard said, exactly seen the attack; he’d seen Luther Dunphy following behind the minivan that had turned into the driveway, and he’d heard the shotgun explosions a second later which were deafening, and with others he’d recoiled in panic and confusion, backing away—looking for places to take cover . . .

“You saw the fallen men? It was clear to you what had happened?”

“I—I think I saw the fallen men. It wasn’t clear—immediately—what had happened. We were all—we were terrified, frankly. The first thing you think in such a situation is that your life is in danger—your instinct is to run away . . .”

“Your instinct wasn’t to run to the fallen men, and see if they needed aid?”

“In these circumstances, I’m afraid—I did not . . .”

“And why was that?”

“I told you—I was in fear of my life . . .”

“Were you hiding?”

“Some of us were—we’d tried to hide . . . No one knew exactly what had happened. It was very confusing.”

“But you’d recognized Luther Dunphy, with the shotgun?”

“I don’t think I knew Luther’s name. I—I don’t think we had exchanged names. What had happened had happened so fast, I wasn’t able to think clearly . . . No one knew if there might be more than one person with a gun. Or if the person with the gun was going to shoot again.”

“Were there police officers at the scene?”

“Yes—two deputies. They were stationed at the Center. But they didn’t seem to know what to do either, at first . . . Then other law enforcement officers arrived, and an ambulance.”

“And where was Luther Dunphy all this while? Did he try to flee the scene?”

“No. He was kneeling in the driveway just waiting. He’d put the shotgun down on the ground . . . I think he did that. Or maybe I learned that later. But he did not try to flee. It looked like he was praying.”

“He was praying?”

“It looked like he was praying. That’s what other people have said also.”

“Did you see for yourself that Luther Dunphy was ‘praying,’ or was this something you’d heard from others?”

“I—don’t know. It’s very confused in my mind.”

“But you saw the fallen men?”

“I—I did see—the fallen men . . . But I didn’t recognize them, I didn’t know who they were.”

“Did you surmise that they were Dr. Voorhees and his driver?”

“I—might have. I did know Voorhees—we all knew Voorhees. And the driver, he was familiar to us. One of the volunteers at the Center . . . I didn’t know his name.”

“Major Timothy Barron. That is his name.”

“Yes. I know now.”

“Mr. Stockard, did you conspire with Luther Dunphy to assassinate Augustus Voorhees and Timothy Barron on the morning of November 2, 1999?”

“No. I did not.”

“Did you know beforehand of the defendant’s intention to assassinate Augustus Voorhees and Timothy Barron on the morning of November 2, 1999?”

“No. I did not.”

“You did not?”

“I—I did not.”

“Did you ever speak to Luther Dunphy about Dr. Voorhees? In any way?”

“I—might have. But just briefly.”

“Did you ever encourage him—in any way?”

“No . . .”

“Can you recall what you talked about?”

“Not clearly . . .”