I felt sorry that Luciana and her children had to be in court to testify. I knew Judge Klaser would make things easy for them, but Henricks had hired a weasel-eyed, spindling shyster of a lawyer, Milton Fordham. For once I was there to testify and not be the arresting officer. Sheriff Gold was back in town and would be acting as bailiff, since Mateo was the marshal, and also it was his family that was primarily involved. Desiderus Luther was the prosecuting attorney, a relative newcomer to Durango coming not long after the Rev. Chapman.
Both Mateo and I had tried to get the name of the third man, but Hendricks wouldn’t budge and kept tight-lipped. I rode out hoping to find tracks, but he was elusive. As the trial started I made sure to watch in case he happened to appear.
When Enrique was called to the stand, I sort of cringed. Fordham tried to show him as an ignorant, dim-witted Mexican who was not able to testify properly. It was hard to tell what Luther was thinking, his face was so dead-panned. He asked Enrique, “Do you go to school?”
“Yes, sir,” came the boy’s reply.
“I want you to help me out,” said Luther kindly. “What’s eight times three?”
“I object!” yelled Fordham. “That has nothing to do with the case.”
Luther turned toward Fordham, his thumbs hooked in the waist of his breeches. “You brought up the issue that he was ignorant, I was just following up with a question to prove otherwise.”
Fordham’s face twisted as he spoke, “You could have coached him with the answer!”
Luther’s face broadened into a large grin. “Then Counselor, you ask him any number you wish.”
Fordham gave a little jerk, then smugness took over his countenance. “Bah, okay, he can do math.”
“Are you conceding that he is not ignorant?” inquired Luther, now looking at the Judge.
There was no answer forthcoming. Judge Klaser had to repeat to which Fordham agreed that Enrique was not ignorant.
The more I watched and heard Milton Fordham the more I thought of him as a low-down scum. Several times Luther had to object to his line of questioning as it either referred to the low view he held of Mexicans or his attacks on either myself or Mateo. Finally, even Judge Klaser had enough and warned him in no uncertain terms that neither I nor Mateo was on trial.
Lawyer Luther called Alejo to the stand as his last witness. I think he did it for effect. Alejo was still badly bruised and his one eye was still blackened. He had some trouble walking up on the witness stand due to several broken ribs.
“I object!” came the whiny holler of Fordham. “That boy wasn’t at the kidnapping.”
Luther sharply turned, pointing his finger at the lawyer. “Counselor, must I remind you that kidnapping is only one of the charges brought against your client,” he uttered forcibly, then paused, moving toward the defendant and the lawyer. “Did I hear you say it was a kidnapping?”
“Uh, uh, I meant alleged kidnapping,” he muttered. He turned to the Judge, “Your honor, he’s badgering me.”
Luther turned away for a moment then to the jury. “My apologies, I thought I heard him make a statement about the kidnapping.”
It didn’t take long for the jury to decide that Ben Hendricks was guilty of all charges. Judge Klaser gave the sentence of fifteen years hard labor in the Colorado State Penitentiary at Canon City.
With the sentence Hendrick turned to Fordham. “You said nobody would believe these Mexs. You lied!” Then he threw himself at Fordham, striking him with his handcuffed fists knocking him to the floor. Then he leaped in the air, coming down hard on the lawyer from whom came a loud groan. By the time he was down hitting him with his cuffs Charlie had tried to pull him off and finally had to thump him on the head.
Judge Klaser began to hammer with his gavel. “Add to that fifteen years–a day. Court is adjourned…”