The Secrets on Chicory Lane: A Novel(53)
Over the next four days, the prosecution paraded several experts, witnesses, and policemen to testify against Eddie. During this phase, it all came out how Eddie had been to prison in the eighties for assault. His prior criminal record didn’t look good. District Attorney Shamrock made a big point out of the supposition that Eddie was a time bomb of anger and hate. Next came the confession itself, read aloud for all to hear. Eddie had dictated and signed it in the presence of several officers, swearing that he was not under duress. A psychiatrist went on the record claiming that depression and an anxiety disorder was not a mental illness—what? The doctor believed Eddie knew what he was doing when the crime was committed.
One of the most compelling witnesses was Dora Walton’s sister, whose testimony, I felt, might actually help the defense. She described how she and her sister came from a broken home in Hobbs, New Mexico. Dora had spent time with a motorcycle club—an “outlaw” gang similar to Hells Angels—in California for several years. In other words, she had been some biker’s “old lady” for a while. She had been hooked on drugs and alcohol but managed to maintain her good looks. She’d had at least two abortions that her sister knew of. Dora eventually left the bikers in the mid-nineties and returned to New Mexico to admit herself to a drug rehabilitation center. It was there, her sister claimed, that Dora was diagnosed as bipolar. Right there, she had something in common with Eddie—they both suffered from mental illness. Dora began subscribing to Godless Times and felt that the words spoke to her. She began to correspond with Eddie and, in 1999, came to Limite to live with him, where Eddie made her “High Priestess.” Together, the couple made news in the small town as “a warlock and his witch” with their goings-on. After that, Dora’s sister never heard from her sibling again.
Mr. Crane made dozens of objections during the examination of the witness, almost all of which were overruled. What was left for the jurors to mull over was whether or not Eddie had “put some kind of spell” on Dora, taking advantage of her mental illness in order to bring her into his fold. On the other hand, Crane could perhaps use this testimony to show that Eddie was indeed sick, too, and therefore not responsible for his actions. That’s what I hoped.
Next, a Limite patrolman named Sawyer, now a sergeant, testified about an incident that occurred in April of 2001. He and his partner were called to a disturbance at the black house on Chicory Lane around midnight. Several cars and trucks were parked on the street in front of Eddie’s house. The 911 call, no doubt made by one of the neighbors, had been about the sight of “naked people” running around outside. When the police arrived, they heard death metal music coming from inside the house—but not loud enough to be a nuisance. No one answered the door, so they burst inside to find a houseful of revelers—all in the nude. When the prosecutor asked what the officer thought was going on, Sawyer replied, “It was one of them devil worship orgies.”
Crane objected, of course, and this time it was sustained.
Sawyer confirmed that Eddie and Dora were among the participants. He counted twelve people in total, all couples. No arrests were made but a warning was issued—no one should be outside in a state of undress. Sawyer claimed that Eddie told him none of his guests had been outdoors.
Crane cross-examined and established that there were no signs of “devil worshipping” or anything Satanic that could be seen. No pentagrams, no incense, no inverted crosses, no men or women in hooded cloaks, and no creatures with horns or tails. That last bit got a laugh from the jury. “Couldn’t it have been a gathering of swingers? You know, couples that engage in alternative sex practices?”
Sawyer blushed. “I guess so,” he answered.
“Is there a law against that if all the participants are consenting adults?”
“I guess not.”
Crane also managed to establish that if none of Eddie’s guests went outside, then that might have meant that whoever called 911 must have been a peeping tom. The judge admonished the attorney for the remark, but it nevertheless scored points with the jury and made Sawyer look foolish.
Despite these minor “wins,” as time went on, I began to realize that this was Limite, and the jury was made up of conservative Christians—good plain folks. They weren’t going to find the concept of a swingers party acceptable, legal or not. They disapproved. I believe they went into the courtroom from the beginning ready to find Eddie guilty, thereby putting a final end to the black mark he had placed on their little town.
More testimony brought out how Eddie’s neighbors had consistently tried to push him off their block. In 2003, everyone on the street staged a protest and marched up and down Chicory Lane with signs that read, “EVICT EVIL EDDIE,” “EVIL EDDIE WILL GO TO HELL,” “NO DEVIL WORSHIP IN LIMITE,” and “EVIL EDDIE MUST GO!” The purpose of all this, it seemed, was to convince the jury that Eddie was a menace to the peace. He had purposefully antagonized his neighbors by not leaving. The way Shamrock couched everything made it sound as if Eddie was a blight on society, and that, in itself, was a good reason to be persecuted. Never mind that nothing Eddie was doing was criminal. Crane, in the cross-examination of several witnesses, brought out that just because you didn’t like someone who lived on your block didn’t mean you could force him to leave. Otherwise, he was unsuccessful in presenting Eddie as harmless. Every time someone testified that Eddie was performing Satanic rituals at his home, Crane shot it down during cross. Did they actually see the ritual? Did they hear it? What exactly was a Satanic ritual? How would they know it? Unfortunately, the judge appeared to be on the prosecution’s side and limited Crane’s ability to cast aspersions on the witnesses’ statements.