CONVICTED
Chapter Two
I ripped the poster off the pole
and ran over to the police officer.
"Who has proof that this man
committed this crime?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice down.
"The Bukater family has
reported that this man has stolen their jewelry. Why? Do you know where he
could be?"
My heart pounded in my chest.
"No," I answered, maybe
even a little too quickly.
I ran away from him before he
could ask me anymore questions. I ran about town, taking down posters of Jack
anywhere I saw them. The only problem was that they were all over the city.
Darkness soon covered the city
and I had to return home. I was exhausted and at the same time terribly
frightened. I ran home and pushed open the door.
"Jack? Jack?" I called
into the house.
There was no response. I went
into my room and opened the bottom drawer, stuffing all the wanted posters
inside. Suddenly, there was a lot of commotion coming from outside. I walked
out the front door.
A bunch of police officers were
standing a few feet away from the house. All of them had guns out and pointed.
I ran to the police and tried to shove past them.
"Miss, please return to your
home," one officer commanded, pushing me back.
I ran past him and saw Jack in
the center of it all, being dragged away.
"Jack!" I screamed at
him.
He looked up and got frantic.
"Marie! Tell them I didn’t
do anything! You know I didn’t!" he yelled, struggling against the police.
"I know you didn’t!" I
yelled back.
A police officer pulled me away
from the group.
"Miss, return to your home
immediately."
"What are you going to do
with him?" I demanded.
"He will be taken to prison
for tonight. If we find evidence that he has committed said crime, he will be
extradited to Ireland."
"No! You can’t!" I
screamed, devastated.
The police stuck Jack in the back
of an automobile and started to drive away.
"I’ll be all right!
Everything will be okay!" Jack called back as the car disappeared down the
street.
I sank to my knees in utter devastation.
"Come along, miss," the
same police officer said, pulling me to my feet.
I walked back into our house and
slammed the door. I leaned against the door and slid to the floor, sobbing.
"Get a grip, Marie. Come on,
now," I told myself.
I got up with the door’s support
and went back into my room. I took out the wanted pictures. I walked into the
backyard and tossed the posters into a metal barrel. Then, striking a match, I
tossed it into the barrel and watched as the posters burst into flame.
I stood there, watching the
flames eat away at the posters as if they never existed. Soon the fire died out
and I went back inside, out of the cold winter air. I went into my room and
flopped down on my bed.
I didn’t realize I had fallen
asleep until there were several loud bangs on the door. I sat up and rubbed my
eyes. It was still dark out. I must have only been asleep for two hours.
Somebody kept banging on the door, so I went and opened it.
"Evening, Miss. We’re with
the NYPD and we have to inspect your home," a police officer said, holding
up his badge.
"What’s this for?" I
asked, rather suspicious.
"If your roommate has
anything hidden in this house, we need to take it," the other police officer
said.
"There is nothing here, but
go ahead and look," I said, opening the door for them.
"Thank you, Ma’am."
Three police officers walked into
the house, and they took apart everything. They went into the kitchen and tore
open the cabinets and went into my room and opened the drawers. They went into
Jack’s room last and opened his drawers.
"Ah-ha!" I heard one
cop shout.
They all walked out of the room,
holding a bag. One cop reached in and pulled out a beautiful, diamond-studded
necklace.
I felt the blood drain from my
face, and suddenly I felt weak. I leaned against the wall.
"This looks like everything
that has been stolen. Thank you for your time, miss. The trial will be held
tomorrow, and you are to attend. We will be here to pick you up at noon. The
jury will decide the boy’s fate then," one police officer said, and they
left.
I somehow made my way back to my
room and fell onto the bed. I didn’t bother to slip beneath the covers before I
cried myself to sleep.
Inside the Jail Cell
Jack was thrown into a cell and
the door slammed shut. The police officer glared at him and walked down the
hallway.
"I didn’t do anything! Do
you hear me? Get back here and let me go, damn you!" Jack roared, rattling
the cell bars.
He turned and punched the wall,
nearly breaking his knuckles. He cursed some more and shook the cell bars.
Finally, he stopped and leaned against the wall.
"Bastards," he
muttered.
Jack ran his hands through his
sandy hair, pushing it back out of his face. He wasn’t afraid for himself. He
was afraid for Marie. Using the sleeve of his shirt, he wiped away the sweat
that was beaded on his forehead.
A police officer walked by and
stopped at his cell a few hours later.
"Looks like you’re going
back to Ireland, boy. We found the stolen jewelry inside your house," the
police officer said, and walked away with a grin on his face.
"I didn’t do it! I’ve been
framed!" Jack yelled, shaking the bars again.
He stopped and laid his head
against the cold bars.
"I didn’t do it."
*****
I was ready and dressed by noon
the next morning, and sure enough, the police came and led me into the
automobile. I didn’t say a word the entire car trip, for I was thinking of a
way to get Jack out of this.
Someone had planted that jewelry
inside our house while we were away. Our house didn’t have locks, so someone
could have just sneaked right in. I knew who had done it, too, but I had no
proof.
We arrived at the courthouse and
I was seated at a small table up in front. To the left of me were Rose DeWitt
Bukater and her future husband, Cal Hockley. That was who had framed Jack. I
knew it.
Now, the only problem was that we
didn’t have a lawyer or anything, so we were pretty much done for. Jack was
brought out, and I wanted to cry. He looked exhausted, and he was drenched in
sweat. His face was dirty, and he looked about ready to scream.
The judge walked in and was
seated in his chair.
The rules were given, and
everyone sat down. Cal got up and stood next to the judge.
"Cal Hockley, can you please
tell the court exactly what happened?" the judge asked.
"Why, yes. It was the middle
of the night, and I heard someone walking around. I told the family to stay in
their rooms and I ran down the stairs. A man--that one," Cal said,
pointing to Jack, "had a bag of jewels with him. Once he saw that I had
spotted him, he ran out of the house. I chased him down the street, but then
lost sight of him after about a mile. I returned home and called the
police."
"Objection!" I yelled.
"Overruled!"
Next, it was our turn.
"I call Rose DeWitt
Bukater," I said.
Rose got up and stood next to the
judge.
"Rose, would you agree to
everything that Cal has just told the court?" I asked.
"Yes. He told us to wait,
and we watched from my mother’s bedroom window as Cal chased the man down the
street."
"Did you happen to get a
look at this robber?" I asked, looking her right in the eye.
"No."
"Ladies and gentlemen of the
court, none of the family saw the man that had stolen their jewelry except for
Mr. Hockley. How do we know that he is telling the truth?"
There were a few whispers going
around the court.
"Order! Order!" the
judge yelled.
"I have no further
questions, your Honor."
I sat down in my seat, and Cal’s
lawyer walked up.
"I call to the stand Marie
Kelp," he said.
I walked up and sat down in the
chair.
"Miss Kelp, do you know if
Mr. Dawson was home that night?"
"I knew he came home and
went to bed, so he was probably sleeping. He came home around six that
day."
Cal smiled, making me want to
punch him.
"So, isn’t it possible that
he sneaked out of the house while you were sleeping?"
"No, it’s not. I’m a very
light sleeper, and our floor creaks rather loudly. I would have heard him get
up."
"Could he have gone out
through a window, perhaps?"
I bowed my head and then looked
up.
"Yes, it is possible, but I
still don’t believe he did it."
"I have no further
questions, your Honor," the lawyer said, and sat down.
This went on for hours, each of
us questioning but not really going anywhere. Finally, it was time for the jury
to come to a verdict.
I waited impatiently in my seat,
all the while not taking my eyes off Jack. He looked worried, but no fear was
to be seen.
Finally, the jury stopped talking
and returned to the room. One man stood up.
"We find the defendant, Jack
Dawson, guilty."
"No!" I screamed, and
ran to Jack.
I threw my arms around him, and
he did the same.
"It’ll be okay," he
said.
"Let’s go, boy. You have a
ship to get on."
A few police officers came behind
me and began to drag me away. I held tight to Jack’s hands.
"He’s innocent, I tell
you!" I yelled.
Another police officer got behind
Jack and pulled him out the door. The police released me, and everyone left the
courtroom.
Instead of feeling sadness, I
felt anger. I turned my head towards the door.
"I’m coming for you,
Jack."