she answer?”
“No, sir.”
“What did you then do?”
“I went next door to Mrs. Guy’s looking for Momma.”
“Was she there?”
“No, sir, Mrs. Guy served me dinner.”
“After dinner what did you do?”
“I went to play with the neighbor boys until my big sister got home.”
“Who does the washing for your mother?”
“Virgie.”
“Virgie Christian?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see her yesterday?”
“I saw her standing on the corner when I was leaving school.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“No, sir, I was on the other side of the street when she called me.”
“What did she say to you?”
“She told me to tell Momma that she can’t come to wash today.”
“Were you home when your mother missed her skirt?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What happened then?”
“Momma sent me to fetch Virgie.”
“Did Virgie agree to pay for the missing skirt?”
“Yes, sir. She said that she didn’t have the skirt.”
“Did Virgie quarrel with your mother?”
“No, sir.”
“Thank you, Miss Sadie; I have no further questions for you. I now call Mrs. Pauline Wright.”
The small woman stood. She helped Sadie take her seat next to Harriet, then sat in the witness chair.
“Mrs. Wright, have you heard your mother speak of losing a skirt?” Dr. Vanderslice asked.
“Yes, Momma was up to my house Sunday a week ago. She sent for Virgie about it.”
“What did Virgie say about the skirt?”
“She promised to pay five dollars for it, but said she didn’t have the skirt.”
“Did your mother and Virgie quarrel over the lost skirt?”
“No, sir, when Virgie was called, she looked scared.”
“Were you at your mother’s last Sunday?”
“Yes, I was. Momma said she hoped Virgie would come tomorrow and pay for the skirt. If she didn’t, she’d make trouble for her.”
“Was the relationship between the woman and your mother pleasant?”
“So far as I know.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Wright. I have no further questions. You and your sisters are free to go. There’s no reason for us to keep you here.” Dr. Vanderslice and the jurors stood as Mrs. Wright helped Sadie with her coat. It was easy to read the sadness written in her face and Harriet’s. Virginia Christian kept her eyes lowered until the sisters left and the constable closed the front door behind them. The colored girl raised her eyes and looked at the door for a long time.
“I now call Mrs. Mary Stewart,” Dr. Vanderslice said, taking his seat.
Mrs. Stewart, the wife of the C&O depot manager, testified to observing the comings and goings of Virginia Christian, Mrs. Ida Belote, and the girls, as did other witnesses. There were differing descriptions of the colored girl’s dress and manner, whether she appeared agitated or calm, whether she was walking or running, but the testimony showed that she had in fact entered and left the house the day of the murder. Also called to testify was the black woman in the apron. She was Lucy White, who cooked for one of Mrs. Belote’s neighbors. She also testified to seeing Virginia Christian enter the Belote house on the day of the murder.
“I now call Mr. Joseph Timothy Cahill to the stand,” Dr. Vanderslice said. The trim young man with the bushy moustache stood and approached the inquest table. His gait was lithe and agile. He took the seat.
“Mr. Cahill, how long have you boarded at Mrs. Belote’s?” Dr. Vanderslice asked.
“Since November of last year.”
“About what time did you leave for work on yesterday morning?”
“About six to seven minutes after 6:00 a.m.”
“Do you know of any problem that Mrs. Belote had with a servant?”
“Yes, she had a little argument about a skirt.”
“What about the skirt?”
“I was there when she missed her skirt. She sent her little girl around for her. Mrs. Belote told her she wanted the skirt or five dollars. The girl seemed very cool.”
“Was Mrs. Belote angry?”
“Yes, she was a woman of stern mind.”
“Was Mrs. Belote abusive to her?”
“No, sir, just stern.”
“How much do you pay for board at Mrs. Belote’s?”
“Five dollars per week.”
“When do you pay for board?”
“Each Saturday evening.”
“How do you pay?”
“In cash, five one-dollar bills.”
“What did she do with the money?”
“She would put it in her small change purse.”
“Would you know this purse when you see it?”
“I think so.”
“Was it like this?” Dr. Vanderslice held up a small, gray, leather purse.
“Yes, sir, that’s it.”
“Mr. Cahill, do you at any time wear your Navy uniform blouse?”
“No, I wear overalls.”
“Would the young ladies there ever wear your uniform blouse with your name on it?”
“Yes, they would from time to time.”
“Would
