Madeleine Page #7

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But, gentlemen, arsenic has other uses...

far more dangerous.

In the early hours of the morning, Emile

L'Angelier was found Iying on his own doorstep,

in the throes of the illness

that was his last.

For a few hours later, he died.

And he died of arsenic.

The prisoner was in possession of poison.

He died of the same poison.

Did she have an opportunity

of administering it?

She denies entirely that she saw L'Angelier

the night before his death.

But you will consider, gentlemen, if that is

consistent with any reasonable probability.

Why did he come back from his holiday?

He said he had received two letters which I had

forwarded to him. The second brought him back.

Did he tell you the contents

of that second letter?

It asked him to visit Miss Smith

on the Friday evening.

In what terms was it written?

Very pressing.

Did he say - now, be careful,

if you please -

did he say that he was going to visit Miss

Smith the night he did, in fact, return?

I gathered that such was his intention.

Now, owing to his absence in the country,

he had missed meeting her on the

Thursday night and on the Friday night.

But she, nevertheless,

waited for him on both these occasions.

Listen to these lines from a letter

that she wrote to him

after he had failed

to keep the appointment on the first night.

"Why, my beloved, did you not come to me?

I waited and waited for you,

but you came not.

I shall wait again tomorrow night,

same hour and arrangement.

Come, my beloved, and clasp me

to your heart. "

Gentlemen, can you imagine

that the person who wrote this letter,

having already waited eagerly

and expectantly

for L'Angelier to visit her

on the Thursday and on the Friday...

can you believe that she didn't wait for him

on the Saturday and on the Sunday?

L'Angelier returned to Glasgow

on the Sunday.

But is it possible that he and she

did not meet that night?

He was seen in the neighbourhood.

You've had a witness here to say so.

And, gentlemen, you must come to the

inevitable conclusion that they did meet.

And if they met,

the evidence of her guilt is overwhelming.

The defence will probably stress the

possibility of suicide, but consider this.

L'Angelier was in the highest spirits

when he left his lodgings.

If he took his own life,

it could only be in consequence

of something that she had said to him.

But how could she say anything to him,

if they didn't meet?

During his illness,

during the whole of his relationship,

there seems to have been

not the slightest aversion to life,

not the slightest desire for death.

On the contrary, the last words

that he said before he died were:

"If only I could get a little sleep,

I think I would be well. "

The sleep he got was the sleep of death.

I leave the case entirely in your hands.

I see no outlet for the unhappy prisoner.

And if you come to the same conclusion I have

done, there is but one course open to you.

That is to return a verdict of guilty.

(Door is unbolted)

- Your solicitor is here. He would like

to see you. - Come in, Mr. Forbes.

- Good evening.

- Good evening, Miss Smith.

I hope you're managing to keep your health

in this ordeal.

Oh, thank you. I am very well.

Your bearing in court throughout the week

was remarkable. Most remarkable.

I've heard it discussed in many quarters.

I'm only allowed to sit and listen.

It is not difficult.

No.

Miss Smith, I beg you not to pay undue

attention to the prosecution's case.

It's their duty to paint things black.

Thank you, Mr. Forbes.

My father used to say, "Never make a decision

until you've heard both sides of the case."

And I have the greatest counsel in Scotland.

Gentlemen,

the charge against the prisoner is murder,

and the punishment of murder is death.

That simple statement is sufficient

to suggest to us

the awful solemnity of the occasion

which brings you and me face to face.

The public watch our proceedings with such

an anxiety and eagerness of expectation,

that I feel almost bowed down

and overwhelmed

by the magnitude of the task

that is imposed on me.

You are invited and encouraged

by the prosecutor

to snap the thread of this young life

and to consign to an ignominious death on the

scaffold one who, within a few short months,

was known only as a gentle and confiding

and affectionate girl.

Even my learned friend the Lord Advocate

could not resist the expression

of his own deep feeling of commiseration

for the position in which the prisoner is placed.

I salute him for it.

But I do not want commiseration.

I am going to ask you for something

which I will not condescend to beg,

but which I will loudly

and importunately demand,

something to which every

prisoner is entitled.

I ask you for justice.

And if you will kindly lend me your

attention, I shall tear to tatters

that web of sophistry in which the prosecution

has striven to involve this poor girl

and her sad, strange story.

Gentlemen, the prosecutor charges the

prisoner with administering poison.

He asks you to affirm on your oath

the fact that on two separate occasions

she, with her own hands,

did administer arsenic.

Now, in dealing with the

circumstantial proof of this fact,

the first thing that is absolutely necessary

is surely the possession of poison.

The means must be in the prisoner's hands

for committing the crime.

Now, you will remember the question

I put to Christina Haggart.

To your knowledge,

was there any poison in the house?

Yes. There was some left in a bottle.

What happened to that?

Miss Madeleine used the last of it

when she was washing her hands.

You have had it proved very distinctly,

I think, to an absolute certainty,

that on the occasion of the first illness

the prisoner was not in possession of arsenic

or any other poison.

I say "proved to a certainty"

for this reason.

The prosecutor sent his emissaries throughout

every druggist's shop in Glasgow.

Prior to L'Angelier's first illness,

there was no record whatsoever

of the prisoner buying arsenic.

You must now see the consequences

of the position which I have established.

Was L'Angelier's first illness

due to the effects of arsenic?

You have heard the evidence

of his landlady Mrs. Jenkins.

Will you tell the court whether you think

the symptoms of the first illness

were similar to those of the second illness?

Y es. There was the same sickness

and the same pain.

I remember saying to the poor gentleman,

"It's like what you had last time. "

Gentlemen, the conclusion is inevitable.

L'Angelier was ill on the first occasion

from the effects of arsenic,

and he was ill and died on the second

occasion also from the effects of arsenic.

But it has been proved to you that the

prisoner was not in possession of arsenic

on the occasion of the first illness.

And if the symptoms of the first and second

illness were the same,

then the arsenic was administered to him

by other hands than the prisoner's.

Now, if the suspicion is in your minds

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