CLERK: You solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?
WHITFIELD: I do.
FLINT: What is your name?
WHITFIELD: John Graham Whitfield.
FLINT: What is your occupation?
WHITFIELD: I am president of the Whitfield National Bank.
FLINT: Were you related to the late Bjorn Faulkner?
WHITFIELD: I was his father-in-law.
FLINT: It is obvious, Mr. Whitfield, that you are well qualified to pass judgment on financial matters. Can you tell us about the state of Mr. Faulkner’s business at the time preceding his death?
WHITFIELD: I shall say it was desperate, but not hopeless. My bank made a loan of twenty-five million dollars to Mr. Faulkner in an effort to save his enterprises. Needless to say, that money is lost.
FLINT: What prompted you to make that loan, Mr. Whitfield?
WHITFIELD: He was the husband of my only daughter; her happiness has always been paramount to me. But my motives were not entirely personal: realizing the countless tragedies of small investors that the crash would bring, I considered it my duty to make every possible effort to prevent it.
FLINT: Is it possible that you would have risked such a considerable sum in Mr. Faulkner’s enterprises if you believed them hopelessly destined to crash?
WHITFIELD: Certainly not. It was a difficult undertaking, but I had full confidence that my business acumen would have prevented the crash — had Faulkner lived.
FLINT: He, therefore, had no reason to commit suicide as far as his business affairs were concerned?
WHITFIELD: He had every reason for remaining alive.
FLINT: Now, Mr. Whitfield, can you tell us whether Mr. Faulkner was happy in his family life, in his relations with your daughter?
WHITFIELD: Mr. Flint, I would like to state that I have always regarded the home and the family as the most important institutions in our lives. You, therefore, will believe me when I tell you how important my daughter’s family happiness was to me — and she had found perfect happiness with Mr. Faulkner.
FLINT: Mr. Whitfield, what was your opinion of Mr. Faulkner?
WHITFIELD: It is only fair to admit that he had many qualities of which I did not approve. We were as different as two human beings could be: I believe in one’s duty above all; Bjorn Faulkner believed in nothing but his own pleasure.
FLINT: From your knowledge of him, Mr. Whitfield, would you say you consider it possible that Mr. Faulkner committed suicide?
WHITFIELD: I consider it absolutely impossible.
FLINT: Thank you, Mr. Whitfield. That is all.
STEVENS: Mr. Whitfield, were you very fond of your son-in-law?
WHITFIELD: Yes.
STEVENS: And you never disagreed with him, never lost your temper in a quarrel?
WHITFIELD: [With a tolerant, superior smile] Mr. Stevens, I never lose my temper.
STEVENS: If my memory serves me right, there was some kind of trouble at the time you made that stupendous loan to Mr. Faulkner. Wasn’t there something said to the effect that you denied making the loan?
WHITFIELD: Purely a misunderstanding, I assure you. I must admit that Mr. Faulkner made a . . . somewhat unethical attempt to hasten that loan, which was quite unnecessary, since I granted it gladly — for my daughter’s sake.
STEVENS: You said that your fortune has been badly damaged by the Faulkner crash?
WHITFIELD: Yes.
STEVENS: And your financial situation is rather strained at present?
WHITFIELD: Yes.
STEVENS: Then how could you afford to offer a fifty thousand dollar reward for the arrest and conviction of “Guts” Regan?
FLINT: Objection! What has that got to do with the case?
WHITFIELD: Your Honor, I would like to have the privilege of explaining this.
JUDGE HEATH: Very well.
WHITFIELD: I did offer such a reward. I was prompted by a feeling of civic duty. The gentleman commonly known as “Guts” Regan is a notorious criminal. I offered that reward for evidence that would make his arrest and conviction possible. However, I agree with Mr. Flint that this has nothing to do with the present case.
STEVENS: Mr. Whitfield, can you tell us why you left for California in such a hurry before the beginning of this trial?
WHITFIELD: I think the answer is obvious. My daughter was crushed by the sudden tragedy. I hastened to take her away, to save her health, perhaps her life.
STEVENS: You love your daughter profoundly?
WHITFIELD: Yes.
STEVENS: You have always made it a point that her every wish should be granted?
WHITFIELD: I can proudly say yes.
STEVENS: When she — or you — desire anything, you don’t stop at the price, do you?
WHITFIELD: We don’t have to.
STEVENS: Then would you refuse to buy her the man she wanted?
FLINT: Your Honor! We —
WHITFIELD: Mr. Stevens!
STEVENS: You wouldn’t stop if it took your entire fortune to break the first unbreakable man you’d ever met?
FLINT: Your Honor! We object!
JUDGE HEATH: Sustained.
STEVENS: Now, Mr. Whitfield, are you going to tell us that your money had nothing to do with Mr. Faulkner dismissing Miss Andre? That no ultimatum was delivered to him?
WHITFIELD: [His tone is slightly less kindly and composed than before] You are quite mistaken in your insinuations. My daughter was no more jealous of Miss Andre than she would be of Mr. Faulkner’s soiled underwear. All men have some at one time or another!
STEVENS: I’d be careful of statements such as these, Mr. Whitfield. Remember that your daughter paid for what Karen Andre got free!
FLINT: Your Honor! We —
[WHITFIELD jumps to his feet; his face is distorted; he is shaking with fury. JUDGE HEATH raps his gavel, but to no avail. NANCY LEE jumps up, crying hysterically through WHITFIELD’s speech]
NANCY LEE: Father! Father!
WHITFIELD: Why you . . . you God-damn, impudent . . . Do you know who I am? Do you know that I can crush you like a cockroach, as I’ve crushed many a better —
STEVENS: [With insulting calm] That is just what I wanted to prove. That is all. Thank you, Mr. Whitfield.
FLINT: Your Honor! We move that the defense counsel’s outrageous remark which led to this incident be stricken out!
JUDGE HEATH: The remark may go out.
[WHITFIELD leaves the stand and sits down next to NANCY LEE; she takes his hand and holds it affectionately, showing great concern]
FLINT: [Loudly, solemnly] The people rest.
STEVENS: Move that the case be dismissed for lack of evidence.
JUDGE HEATH: Denied.
STEVENS: Exception . . . Ladies and gentlemen of the jury! We cannot pass judgment on Karen Andre without passing it on Bjorn Faulkner. He had put himself beyond all present standards; whether it was below or above them, is a question for each of us to decide personally. But I’ll ask you to remember that he was the man who said he needed no justifications for his actions: he was the justification; the man who said that laws were made for the fun of breaking them. If you’ll remember that, you will understand that the life into which he was thrown in his last few months was as impossible to him as that of a tiger in a vegetarian cafeteria. And to escape it, he would be driven to the most desperate means — including suicide!
[STEVENS pauses, then calls]
Our first witness will be James Chandler.
CLERK: James Chandler!
[CHANDLER, middle-aged, precise, dignified, enters and takes the stand]
You solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?
CHANDLER: I do.
STEVENS: Your name?
CHANDLER: James Chandler.
STEVENS: Your occupation?
CHANDLER: Handwriting expert of the New York Police Department.
[STEVENS takes the letter read by INSPECTOR SWEENEY and hands it to CHANDLER]
STEVENS: Do you recognize this letter?
CHANDLER: Yes. It is the letter found in Mr. Faulkner’s penthouse on the night of his death. I have been called upon to examine it.
STEVENS: What were you asked to determine?
CHANDLER: I was asked to determine whether it was written by Mr. Faulkner.
STEVENS: What is your verdict?
CHANDLER: This letter was written by Bjorn Faulkner.
STEVENS: Your witness.
FLINT: Mr. Chandler, it has been called to your attention during the inquest that Miss Andre was in the habit of signing Faulkner’s name to unimportant documents, at the time she was employed as his secretary. Have you compared those signatures with Faulkner’s real ones?
CHANDLER: I have.
FLINT: What is your opinion of them?
CHANDLER: I can compliment Miss Andre on her art. The difference is very slight.
FLINT: With Miss Andre’s knowledge of Mr. Faulkner, is it possible that she could have forged this letter so perfectly as to escape detection?
CHANDLER: It is not probable; but it is possible.
FLINT: That is all.
[CHANDLER exits]
STEVENS: Siegurd Jungquist!
CLERK: Siegurd Jungquist!
[JUNGQUIST enters and takes the stand. He is a man in his late thirties, a little timid in a quiet, reserved way, with a naive face and questioning, as if constantly wondering, eyes. He is Swedish and speaks with an accent]