of you. I now call Mr. Poindexter.”
Cahill nodded to Dr. Vanderslice and the jurors and walked back to his chair among the witnesses. Poindexter’s big coat flopped on the floor when he stood, and a woman sitting next to him helped him arrange it on his seat. He stepped quickly to the witness chair.
“Mr. Poindexter, you are employed at the C&O depot?” Dr. Vanderslice asked.
“Yes, sir, I am a telegraph operator.”
“Were you working yesterday?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Do you know Mrs. Ida Belote when you see her?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you see her yesterday?”
“No, I didn’t see her yesterday.”
“Do you know this girl who works for Mrs. Belote?” Dr. Vanderslice pointed to Virginia Christian. She raised her head and looked at Dr. Vanderslice, then up into the face of Sheriff Curtis, then down at the floor. Poindexter cleared his throat.
“Yes, I know her.”
“Did you see her yesterday?”
“No, I did not.”
Dr. Vanderslice furrowed his eyebrows and leaned forward. “Mr. Poindexter, when was the last time you saw her?”
“Oh, yes, it was yesterday, yesterday between 9:30 a.m. and 10:30 a.m.” Poindexter cast a glance at Virginia Christian. He turned to the jurors and smiled nervously.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I get the fantods talking in front of people. I’m not used to it. I’m used to somebody handing me a slip of paper, I type in the message, give them the bill. That’s what I’m used to.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Poindexter. Take your time. How was she dressed when you saw her?” Dr. Vanderslice asked.
“As well as I can remember, she had on a black skirt with I think a hole on the right side about a foot from the ground.”
“Were you looking out the office window?”
“No, I was at the office door. I didn’t notice the color of her shirtwaist.”
“Was she wearing a hat?”
“No, I didn’t see a hat.”
“Did you speak with Virginia Christian?”
“No, she was not within one hundred yards of me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Poindexter; I have nothing further. I now call Constable J. D. Hicks.”
Poindexter pulled a handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped his brow. Now that he was leaving center stage, he looked relaxed, like a boy leaving the proctor’s office. He retook his seat among the witnesses.
Constable Hicks lumbered toward the witness chair. He was holding something with the big fingers of one hand. He had slicked his hair down with pomade. When he sat in front of the jurors, he looked like a man in a child’s parlor chair.
“Constable Hicks, tell us what you know about this case?” Dr. Vanderslice asked.
“Virginia Christian was brought here yesterday. She was searched and turned in a small change purse. I asked her did she have anything else. She said no. I had her take off her shoes. I ran my hand around in her stockings looking for a knife. I told the sheriff that I had searched her. He instructed me to go back and give her another overhauling.” Despite his bulk Constable Hicks had a high voice, near tenor in pitch. His features were heavy but he had a kind face.
“Did you give her an overhauling?”
“Yes, sir. I went back up and brought her out of her cell. ‘Virgie,’ I said, ‘have you got anything on you?’ She said, ‘No, sir.’ I then asked her when was the last time she had her monthly? She said, ‘Yesterday. I’ve finished with them.’ Sheriff R. K. Curtis came in. I then made Virginia Christian disrobe and I found on her sleeve, a good-size bloodstain. I then asked her if she had any more bloodstains on her. She said, ‘No.’ I found under her left arm a bloodstain. I asked her to explain this stain. She said her mother had a hemorrhage and she reached across to give her something to wipe with. A drop of blood must have gone through. I instructed her then and there to pull everything off. I found bloodstains on this garment.”
He held up what looked to be an article of women’s underclothing.
“I found this instrument strapped around her waist; in it was a purse.”
He held up a pouch, maybe made of canvas. The chair creaked when he leaned forward and handed the articles to Dr. Vanderslice.
“Constable Hicks, you say you found this thing tied around Virginia Christian’s waist?” Dr. Vanderslice held up the pouch for the jurors to see. “And in it was a purse?”
“Yes, sir. It contained four one-dollar bills and a gold ring.”
“Did you ask Virginia Christian about the purse?”
“Yes, she said the purse belonged to her mother and she was keeping it for her.”
“How was this thing strapped to her body?” Dr. Vanderslice placed the pouch on the table beside the undergarment.
“It was strapped right next to her drawers,” Constable Hicks said. He looked sheepishly at the coroner and the jurors. “The sheriff then sent around to her parents’ and got a new set.”
“Would you know the purse found on her?”
“I think so.”
“Is this the purse?” Dr. Vanderslice held up the item he had shown Cahill.
“That’s the purse, all right.”
“Was she told for what she was arrested?”
“I think not.”
“Did she volunteer any information to you about Mrs. Belote?”
“No, sir. She said that she had been washing all day.”
“Where did you say you found the instrument or bag?”
“It was tied around her waist, tied with a necktie and string.”
“Thank you. I have no further questions of you, sir.” Again the chair creaked as Constable Hicks stood.
“I would like to thank all of those who testified today in this matter,” Dr. Vanderslice said. “The inquest is now closed.”
I looked to see the sheriff turn Virginia Christian toward her cell.
Witnesses had seen her enter the Belote house. Testimony established robbery as a motive. In custody she had lied to authorities and concealed evidence. Murder in the first degree. I burst out
