Wallace calmly put his wig on, the red costume with its many layers of clothing weighing heavy on his shoulders. The very elaborate combination of black white and red made him look at least four inches bigger and a lot broader. He looked in the mirror and noticed his wig was distinctly lopsided and pulled it straight. He sighed, there were days he didn’t like doing his job and this was one of them. He was sweating beneath the layered robe and heavy wig and knew there would be little chance of getting a breathing pause soon. Sure today’s trial would be largely a formality, but still, proceedings had to be followed in order to let justice prevail. He then proceeded to walk into the courtroom and take seating behind the main desk. He heaved the small hammer and slammed it down sharply twice, the ringing of wood on wood resounding through the large courtroom.

“Order, Order in the court!”

There fell a hushed silence and he opened the file he had taken along with him. It sported the name and case of today’s defendant. He didn’t have to read the page to know the name and crime of this man. Like everything he did in court, it had already been well-studied and imprinted on his mind. He looked around the courtroom to see if everyone held silent and if the witnesses and such were present. He signaled the clerk to start taking notes and looked down from the lectern to the accused.

“Alexander Robinson, you are charged with numerous offences, including assault with intent to rape, rape and murder.”

Wallace practically carved the man up with his unblinking gaze. He locked eyes with the criminal for a long time and then suddenly slammed the hammer down again. There were crimes he could understand, crimes he would sometimes call a necessary evil, but nothing set fire to his bones like rape did. Make him want to pull the sword embedded within his cane and pin the beast to the ground, leaving him to die in a puddle of his own blood…If the evidence was good, this bastard wasn’t getting away lightly…

“Calling forward the prime witness, Miss James.”

Though she currently carried on a pleasant conversation with the always heroic Mr. Jørgensen, Marie's mind was drifting to other places. Today was the trail for the man that had attempted to capture/rape her -- and herself and Nils were on their way there. There was a very short walk to the court house, actually, and as they drew closer, Marie was filled with even more dread.

The day she had visited her mother's grave had supposed to have been a day of contented remembrance. She would have stayed for a minute more, then gone off to become re-united with her governess, and then have headed home. Her house was warm and inviting, but if one knew it as Marie did, they would feel as though a piece was missing. That piece belonged to Marie's mother. Her mother had been the heart and soul of the house -- the very foundation it stood upon. Without the caring touch of her mother, Marie had attempted to keep the sunshine safely in the walls of the old manor, and with a fair bit of success. But as she was drifting off to sleep at night, young Marie James was often filled with a great empty sadness. It was not unusual for her to fall asleep with tears in her eyes, or splashing down her cheeks.

It was bright today -- much too warm for such a dreary case. Marie smiled pleasantly in response to a remark made by her friend and hero who strode next to her, though her thoughts really were elsewhere. The quickly approaching courthouse did not settle her thoughts either. Marie swallowed very hard as they approached the great oak doors. She knew her story, knew what happened -- and she was ready to see the awful man put behind bars permanently.

Allowing the door to be opened for her, Marie entered with a polite curtsy and nod her head, as she passed an officer who stood by the front door. Slowly, she entered completely, Nils at her side, and took a seat on the pew-like benches surrounding the Judge's podium. A bout of quiet murmuring filled the hall, only stirring Marie's nerves up a bit as she began to ring her hands.

“Order, Order in the court!”

Silence fell immediately -- Marie's blue eyes focused upon the judge, finding his face to be rather kind but stern.

“Alexander Robinson, you are charged with numerous offences, including assault with intent to rape, rape and murder.”

Feeling slightly faint, Marie fanned herself idily, hoping to bring air to her lungs, despite the corset around her waist. It truely was warm in here, and the effect the man's charges were having on her was beginning to cause a bit of a problem. She needed a change of scenery, or a change of anything to keep herself stable.

“Calling forward the prime witness, Miss James.”

Marie felt eyes upon her as she heard her surname. Gently she rose, stepping gracefully forward. The look on her face showed absolute nervousness, and a bit of embarassment. The man to her left had tried to assault/rape/kidnap her -- she could only imagine just what would be happening right now if Nils hadn't been there.

Nils Jørgensen had escorted Marie James to court to stand witness against Alexander Robinson. He himself was also a witness, due to be examined the same day, so it was only good sense for him to accompany her to-day. However, even if it had not been, he would have done it anyway; Marie was now a good friend of his even though she was twenty-two years his junior. He regarded her somewhat as a cross between the daughter that he never had, a younger sister, and a solid friend. Though undoubtedly the fact that Nils had saved her honour and possibly her life had something to do with the initial friendship between them, Nils had found Marie to be pleasant company, and her family much the same, and the relationship was maintained on mutual good will rather than any sense of indebtedness.

He sat beside Marie at the witness table as the judge called the court to order and read the charges to the accused. Nils shot an evil look at Robinson; the fellow was disgusting and vile and deserved to hang. And would, too, most likely; the judge, the Honourable Mr Justice Sir Wallace Vandenberg, was reputed to be a fair but strict man of the law. Nils could not help but feel satisfaction that to-day a criminal would get his just desserts. Inspector Grover, whom Nils could see also at the witness table and nodded to as he sat down, had told Nils that Robinson had raped many women in London and murdered one of them. The world certainly was better off without such folk in it. The judge finished with the charges and then called Marie forward as a witness. She appeared quite nervous to Nils, and he felt sorry for her discomfort at having to be in the same room as her assaulter.

They were on a first-name basis, but this was a courtroom and formal proceedings, and it would not to for anyone to overhear him call Marie by her Christian name. Feeling somewhat odd addressing her as Miss James, Nils patted Marie’s hand as she rose to go and stand in the witness box. He said in a low voice, not meant to be heard by any but Marie and those close enough to unavoidably hear it, “You’ll do fine, Miss James.” Then he returned his attention to the court as a whole again, crossing his hands on the table in front of him but being careful not to jar the heavily bandaged left hand. The cuts in his fingers still hurt and still carried the stitches required to close them, although they had fortunately not festered.


Inspector Thomas Grover of the Metropolitan Police was in Lindebo on unpleasant business. Not that his business was ever very pleasant, but it was particularly unpleasant to-day. He had to stand witness against Alexander Robinson in lieu of the many witnesses in London; it was likely that his testimony along with that of James and Jørgensen would convict the man, but if it did not, he would be under pressure from numerous distressed families once he returned to London. Grover had only been the one to link Robinson to the murder of a London woman; he had not been a victim of the man. Yet he had to make sure that Robinson was sentenced for his crimes in place of those victims. All five of the surviving women that Robinson had raped had agreed to testify against him, but since the man had escaped gaol while he was being held until he could be tried, circumstances had conspired to prevent any of them from being present at his trial.

The Inspector sat at the witness table next to Jørgensen, acknowledging the nod the man gave him, and waited to be called forward as a witness.

He watched calmly as Miss James, Marie James stood up from her chair and walked towards the lectern. Robinson followed her with his eyes, and Wallace despised what lay in those deep sunken eyes. Right now he desperately wanted to connect his gavel with the mans forehead, but that was not the way. That was not his way. He once more read the evidence presented by him from London, then at the remaining witnesses. Two more men, Nils Jørgensen, who looked every inch the gentleman, entire opposite of Robinson, calm, confident with certain friendliness. Beside him was seated Inspector Grover, whom Wallace knew to be as stern and unforgiving as his rather sour visage would cause one to believe. But he was a man of honor and the judge seated opposite of him knew that he would not rest ‘till the man sitting at the table was judged. Their eyes met and Wallace gave the man at the table a silent nod of recognition.

Miss James had taken position behind the witness lectern at the back and Wallace looked at her with a professional gaze, he was now busy solving a case and feelings would be taken into account last. He picked up the file and began reading from it. His voice loud enough to be heard across the vaults of the courtroom, over the noise of the scribe operated typewriter that noted the proceedings.

“Miss James, Almost three weeks ago, Sunday morning, the defendant, Alexander Robinson assaulted you with a clear intent for rape and theft, is this correct?”

He calmly looked at the young girl looking very frail standing behind the robust fence of the lectern, right in what always struck Wallace as a kind of stage between an ocean of faces. If you looked around, you noted often that the faces of those sitting around the lectern took the same cast as the person standing alone within it, he had always wondered why that was. He waited for her to respond and listened carefully as she spoke, before asking his second question.

“Is there anything peculiar you want to say to the assembled or to me before I ask my questions?”

Appreciative of the touch to her hand from Nils, Marie felt a small boost of confidence just knowing someone was here to support her. As mentioned,the young red headed girl moved gently but briskly towards the lectern and took her seat, awaiting questions. In all honesty, Marie had no cause to be nervous. It was Mr. Robinson that should be saying his prayers, not herself. Marie bit the inside of her bottom lip as silence overtook the courtroom meaning that the judge would soon be speaking.

“Miss James, Almost three weeks ago, Sunday morning, the defendant, Alexander Robinson assaulted you with a clear intent for rape and theft, is this correct?”

Marie nodded, although she held a quiet confidence that he could not see the small gesture. "Yes sir." She responded in a voice she was certain did not belong to herself. It was much more mature, much more confident. Marie had always had a slight difficulty speaking confidently before adults, or strangers. However, it seemed after the experience in the graveyard, her childish ways had dimished, leaving her with the voice and thinking of a woman. His words spun around in her mind, making her dizzy with thought. These thoughts were neither pleasant nor welcome, and consisted of what would have been if it had not been for Nils. Certainly she would be dead, violated, and only a mere victim. Not only that, but the horrible man seated much closer to her than she would have ever liked would have still been on the loose.

“Is there anything peculiar you want to say to the assembled or to me before I ask my questions?”

"No, I suppose not." Marie spoke again, though she found a hint of her old self in her words. She was feeling timid, childish and disregarded again. These feelings were feelings that she detested and hated to encounter. Normally, Marie would find solace and safety in her music, but she was a great deal farther away from a piano than she would have been at home. If Alice had come, this might have been much easier to go through. Having Nils with her was a blessing in itself, but she found herself wishing that another one of familliar company had accompanied her as well.

(OOC, yes, it took a while and yes it sucks, but this is my court, what are you going to do about it? :P)

Okay, now that that was cleared he could start with the regular proceedings, ask a few questions, then ask the next witness to stand up and start all over again. He looked at one of the men on the balcony for a moment, who looked half-asleep, leaning on his rifle like it was the only thing that kept him upright. Wallace sent a glare in his direction, across the heads of the assembled and the guard quickly shot up. As if he had been stung by a hornet, and stood up rigid and straight. The judge made careful note to send the man a warning, especially during these cases, when the culprit was clearly a maniac, he needed to be thrice as careful as normal. He nodded at Miss James and folded his hands in front of him on the lectern. Just a few routine questions and this would be done.

“Miss James, did you have any connection to the accused prior to this?”

He was quite sure there wasn’t, but like most of this trial, this was just a formality. He waited for her response and asked another one. Something that had intrigued him in the written testimonials: why had she been alone? A young woman of here station wasn’t supposed to be left alone for more than five minutes, especially not in public places. Sure it might be an embarrassing question, but this was court and he asked all. He cleared his throat and looked the young woman straight in the eye, his tone not accusing, just mildly curious.

“Miss James, I’ve read in the reports that you were alone at the time, where was your escort?”

The question must’ve been posed by quite a few people, parents, officers, Mister Jørgensen, and such, but he was most likely the first to actively voice it. If he didn’t ask it, the barrister might jump on that and accuse Wallace of partiality, which could complicate matters enormously. He sighed inwardly, this wouldn’t be a fun question to answer, but “Dura lex, sed Lex”