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Chapter One Married Life

Mister Dingledine

Robert F. Clifton

book may be reproduced or

transmitted in any form or by any

means without written

permission from the author.

The reader is advised that this is a work

of fiction any similarities of persons

places or events is purely coincidental.

R.F. Clifton

Table Of Contents

Chapter One....Married Life

Chapter Two....Ethel

Chapter Three..Alberta

Chapter Four....Death

Chapter Five.....Investigation

Chapter Six.......Theodore Henderson

Chapter Seven...The Prosecution

Chapter Eight....The Defense

Chapter Nine......Closing Arguments

Chapter Ten........Eastern Penitentiary

Chapter One

Married Life

Herbert Dingledine sat at his kitchen table grading the test papers that his students had submitted. From time to time he had to stop, remove his eyeglasses and rub his eyes. The gas lamp on the wall gave off a yellow glow. It was enough to see, except when it came to constant reading. It was the year 1900 and although he owned the house on North Fourth Street in the Liberty section of Philadelphia the house lacked electricity and he didn't have the funds to have it installed.

Dingeldine was a small man of stature standing five foot four inches tall and weighing one hundred and forty-five pounds. He had dark brown hair that was thin and balding. A well-trimmed mustache covered his upper lip. As a boy growing up he had been frail and while other boys his age played outside he stayed in his bedroom and studied. Born in 1870 he graduated from high school in the year 1887. At age twenty he applied for a teachers position and with a high school diploma met the requirements to teach. His first two years were spent teaching in an elementary school. Then, an opening occurred at a high school and he took the position teaching biology.

By nature he was thrifty, saving what money he could. He also had three interests, the first was gardening and he grew his own vegetables and produce in his backyard garden. Next, was science and chemistry. Finally, he enjoyed cooking. To him, cooking was a part of chemistry requiring precise measurements, temperatures and time.

Actually, he cooked out of necessity since his wife

Ethel who imagined that she was constantly ill and unable to stand for long periods of time, or so she said. To him, she had become a lazy, nagging, whining, hypochondriac who he had to constantly wait on all of the time. While he was small she was large standing nearly five foot ten and now weighing two hundred and five pounds and getting larger every day.

Herbert smiled as he corrected a test paper, glad to know that he was teaching and his students were learning. his thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice.

"Herbert? Bring me a glass of water," said Ethel Dingledine.

"Can't you get it yourself? You can see that I'm busy," Herbert answered.

"You know I suffer from vertigo. I get very dizzy if I stand too long."

"It wouldn't hurt you to get up. Stand up and practice standing. that way you just might get over what ails you."

"Are you going to bring me a glass of water or not? I could die of thirst for all you care."

" To tell you the truth, I don’t care how you die, just that you do it quickly,” he thought to himself as he got up from the table walked to the sink and after taking a glass filled it from the kitchen faucet. He then carried the glass of water to Ethel who sat on the upholstered sofa. “Here,” he said handing her the glass. He then walked back to the kitchen, the table, and the test papers.

“This water is warm. You didn’t allow the water to run for a bit before you filled the glass,” Ethel complained.

“I let the water run.”

“You say you did, but I know better. Bring me another glass.”

“No. If you want another glass of water get up off of the couch and get it yourself,” Herbert replied.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like to see me fall, injure myself, perhaps break a hip. I can just imagine seeing you standing over me as I lay on the floor.”

“Ethel, I’m trying to concentrate on grading these papers. Please stop badgering me.”

“Oh, so now I’m badgering you am I? Why, because I’m ill and need attention from my husband, who by the way pays no attention to me at all.”

“ You have no idea just how much attention I give you each and every day. I have to listen to you constantly, listen to how sick you think you are. I have to listen to the excuses you give of how you can’t cook, clean the house, or do the laundry. Oh, I pay attention to you, believe me,” keeping his thoughts to himself.

“I saw a rat in the backyard yesterday. I want you to make sure they don’t get in the house,” she said.

“I’ll take care of it,” he answered.

“When? You say you will, but you won’t. I know you won’t. You’ll either forget or ignore the fact that rodents are present and are about to enter our home.”

“I’ll do it.”

“How? How are you going to prevent rodents from entering the house?

“I’ll put down poison.”

“Make sure you put it near the back door and use plenty.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“See that you do. Why don’t you do it now? There’s still plenty of daylight.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll do it now, anything to shut you up so I can finish these papers,” he said as he got up and walked outside through the kitchen door.

He walked through his backyard to the corner of the high fence that separated his property from that of his neighbors. In that corner, he had built a small shed that he used to keep his gardening tools and supplies. At the door of the shed, he pulled a key chain and keys out of his trouser pocket, found the key to the padlock on the door and unlocked it. After opening the door he reached inside and removed a bag of Paris green, a rodenticide from a shelf. He then carried the poisoned powder to the back door and sprinkled a large amount, forming what he hoped was a wide, blue-green, barrier in front of the back entrance. After carrying the half empty bag of poison back to the shed he placed it back on the shelf, closed the door and locked it.

Back in the house he washed his hands, dried them and sat again at the kitchen table.

“Did you put down the poison?”, asked Ethel.

“Certainly, what did you think I was doing outside?”

“How do I know? I’m sure you do things that I’m not aware of. You keep things from me?”

“ How about the things you keep from me? You don’t even perform as a wife. You claim that you’re afraid of getting pregnant thinking that you would die during childbirth,” he thought to himself. “Ethel, what could I possibly keep from you?”, he asked.

“Plenty. How do I know what you do when you are at work?”

“ What I do at work, is teach. Would you prefer that I read my lesson plan for the day to you before I leave in the morning?”

“Don’t be silly. My feet hurt. I want you to rub liniment on them. It takes the pain away for awhile.”

“The pain in your feet is caused by not standing or walking. Get up and move about.”

“You don’t care. I can truly see that you don’t care about my health or my discomfort. I could die for all you care.”

“ I should be so lucky,” he thought.

Herbert started the next morning just as he did every morning. He would climb out of bed and while still in his nightshirt would walk into the kitchen. There, he filled the coffee pot with water. Using the coffee grinder he would then grind the beans and empty the coffee into the pot. After placing the pot on the gas stove he turned on the burner and after raising the flame to his desired height turned and walked back to the bedroom.

Being fastidious, he would require a clean union suit of underwear each day as well as a clean, white shirt and a celluloid collar. Putting on his trousers he would then place his suspenders, walk to the bathroom and lathered his face with shaving soap. He would then removed last night's growth of whiskers using a straight razor.

Once dressed, he made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Removing a loaf of bread from the bread box he cut three slices. One slice would be his breakfast. The other two slices were for the sandwich he would make and carry to work for his lunch. Usually, the sandwich would be made from leftover beef, chicken or ham. Without meat, he would use either cheese or jam. Today, he would use cheese.

Herbert sat at the kitchen table taking small bites from the slice of dry bread. He would chew then take sips of black coffee. As he did he thought of the lesson plan he had created for the day in the classroom. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Ethel’s voice. “Herbert! Bring me a cup of coffee. I’m too ill to get out of bed. I think you should either send for the doctor or stay home and take care of me,” she cried.

“Doctors cost money. There’s nothing wrong with you. You imagine that you’re sick. Get up out of bed and move about. I guarantee that you’ll feel better,” he answered.

“Oh, so now you’re a doctor. I don’t believe you. All I ask is a bit of consideration. Do I get it? No.”

“I’m bringing you a cup of coffee, then I’m leaving for work.”

“On your way home stop and see Kroger the butcher. Buy a fat stewing hen. One with yellow skin. I need chicken broth. It does wonders for me.”

“Good. Maybe it will get you up and about,” he replied.

After leaving the house Herbert walked to the trolly stop. There he boarded the last horse drawn trolly car in Philadelphia soon to be retired as the transportation company switched to electric powered cars. After paying his five cent fare he would take any available seat near a window enjoying the sights of the city as people went about their business, some shopping, most going to work.

Arriving at the school Herbert walked into his classroom and after taking a seat at his desk he opened a drawer and placed his lunch, contained in a paper bag inside. He looked up when he heard a female voice say, “Good morning, Mister Dingledine.”

“Good morning, Miss Collins.”

“I hope that we may converse at lunch today. I have something to tell you,” she said.

“May I say that I look forward to our lunch together today,” he replied.

“See you then,” she said as she walked away.

Herbert smiled just knowing that she acknowledged his being there made him happy. Alberta Collins was a small, petite, young woman. He had learned by talking to members of the faculty that her father, a railroad worker had been killed in an accident. As a result, she took care of her mother, necessitating in turning down many suitors that asked for her favors. For some reason, she went out of her way to engage Herbert in conversation, usually at the table in the faculty lunch room. There, they would share a small pot of tea. He would eat his sandwich she would take small bites from tiny finger sandwich’s sometimes watercress or when in season, lettuce and tomato.

All he knew was that when she asked him to join her at the lunch table he became a clock watcher wishing that time would fly by. She was small, petite, with a perfect, white porcelain complexion. Her light brown hair consisted of long hair that she wore in a bun but wore loose on Saturdays at home or shopping and Sunday mornings as she attended church. Her eyes were dark brown and sparkled when she was happy. At noon the bell rang alerting both student body and teachers that it was the lunch period. Herbert opened his desk drawer, removed the brown paper bag and walked quickly weaving in and out of the crowd of students heading in the same direction.

In the lunch room, he stood waiting for her to appear. When she did he smiled and held the chair for her as she sat down. After taking a seat across from her he said, “Now Miss Collins, what is it that you wish to tell me?”

“Mister Dingledine, I have a cousin who happens to be a cellist, Andrew Cummings. He has just taken a position with the newly formed, Philadelphia Orchestra. The conductor will be Felix Sheel and the first concert will be held in the Academy of Music.”

“My that is exciting news. I can see that it makes you happy and please call me Herbert.”

“Very well Herbert, but only if you call me Alberta.”

“Then, Alberta it is.”

“Good. Now then, my purpose in telling you this is, that my cousin has given me two tickets for the first concert. I need an escort if I was to go.”

“May I be so bold to assume it is I that you wish as an escort?”

“You may and yes.”

“Surely your mother would wish to attend.”

“Mother is poorly.”

“I see. Then, as a gentleman, I must advise you that attending any affair with a married man and without chaperone would and could be damaging to your reputation as a lady.”

“I would have a chaperone.”

“Who?”

“My cousin, the cellist.”

“Who I can assume would only be able to keep an eye on you from where he sits in the orchestra and then only after taking his eyes off of the music sheets.”

“Still, he could vouch for my reputation.”

“I agree. Please tell me, when is this concert to be performed?”

“I believe it will be on the evening of Friday, November the sixteenth.”

“I see. It now being the beginning of October the concert is, let’s say, a month away. That being so, it allows you more time to select an escort other than myself.”

“I’m beginning to think that you do not wish to share my company, Mister Dingledine.”

“Please, do not think harshly of me Alberta. Understand that it is you and your reputation that concerns me if we were to be seen together, out for the evening.”

“It’s not like we were out honky tonkying. We would be attending a social event, actually, the performing arts, if you will. Please consider how much I want to attend and want you as my escort.”

“Very well. However, you must let me know certain things, such as the proper dress for the occasion. You see, I only have one suit. The one I’m wearing right now and I’m afraid that on a teacher's salary I can’t afford to purchase a tuxedo.”

“Herbert, our seats will be in the balcony. The tuxedo and evening gown crowd will be in the seats on the main floor. You forget I earn a teacher's salary also.”

At four thirty in the afternoon, Herbert opened the front door of his home. He walked past Ethel who lay on the sofa with a cold, wet, cloth on her forehead. Entering the kitchen he unwrapped the chicken he had bought at the butcher shop and placed it in the ice box. He then took a look at the block of ice that was slowly melting as it kept milk and other things cold.

“Soon be time to buy another block,” he thought.

“Herbert? Did you buy a chicken?”, yelled Ethel.

“Yes.”

“Fat and yellow, like I asked?”

“Yes.”

“ Well? I don’t hear you getting it ready to cook. I told you I need broth, chicken broth.”

“Ethel, I just walked into the house. I haven’t even removed my hat or taken off my coat. In time, I’ll stew the chicken.”

“Well, make sure you do. I’ve had a terrible day Herbert. Just terrible.”

“What’s wrong this time?” he asked.

“Headaches, terrible headaches,” she replied.

“Did you take something for the pain?”

“Yes, aspirin powder, which incidentally we’re almost out of it. You must go to the drug store and buy me some more, not that it helps.”

“I’ll stop at the pharmacy on the way home tomorrow.”

“See that you do.”

“I see that you ate lunch,” he said.

“Yes, but I had to force myself.”

“The bread is almost gone and the strawberry jam jar is empty. I’m sure it was difficult forcing yourself to eat so much,” he said sarcastically.

“Now, you’re begrudging me the few morsels I’m able to eat and keep down. Me, as sick as I am, left alone for the majority of the day with no one to look after me or even care.”

“Ethel, you imagine many of your ills.”

“So you say, Herbert. So you say.”

“Hey, I’m just glad that you got up off of the sofa. That in itself shows that you can do it if you really want to do it.”

“And I want you to know that while up I saw a rat again in the backyard.”

“Wonders never cease. When I’m home you become an invalid. When I’m gone from the house you can get up, feed yourself, even look out of the back door window long enough to see rodents in the backyard. Yesterday you couldn’t stand because of your imagined, vertigo.”

“You know the spells I have come and go.”

“ I wish to hell, that you would go,” he thought.

Chapter Two

Ethel

It was a warm, sunny, early October, Saturday morning.

Herbert enjoyed Saturdays. It was the only day of the week when he didn’t shave. Instead, he made a breakfast of bread, oatmeal, and coffee and after carrying the same to Ethel who once again was too ill to get out of bed he dressed in old clothes and went to his backyard garden. Here, he would harvest the rest of his vegetables. There were still string beans hanging from the plants. He grew two varieties, green and yellow. It was Ethel that preferred the green string beans. He liked the yellow, but he had picked those last week, cooked them and canned them in mason jars.

He knelt on one knee and picked the beans placing them in a wicker basket. He was pleased with the amount he had produced. He had been lucky, for the summer had produced just the right amount of sunshine and rain and that along with the horse manure he gathered from the street and mixed with his compost pile each year created an excellent soil condition.

When he was finished picking all of the beans he looked carefully under the leaves of the cucumber plants looking for any of the fruit that it had produced that he might have missed. He found one, but it had been gnawed on by some rodent, a mouse or rat. He picked and threw it towards his gathered compost material.

All that was left was the root vegetables, the potatoes, turnips, and beets. He got up slowly, picked up the basket of beans and carried them to the house. Entering at the back door he stood and wiped his feet after stepping into the Paris green that had been out down previously to kill rodents. Entering the laundry room he stumbled and in order not to fall Herbert dropped the basket of beans, spilling them on the floor. “Damn,” he said out loud, then knelt down and picked them up placing them in the basket again. He then carried them to the sink. There, he spent the rest of the morning, snapping, cooking and canning string beans. Canning was something he had learned to do as a boy at his mother's side. It was something he enjoyed to do even in this case where the green beans he prepared were for Ethel.

As the canned vegetables cooled Herbert sat eating his lunch consisting of sardines and crackers. As he ate he thought of what else he had to do in the garden. His thoughts were interrupted. “Herbert? Are you eating your lunch?” asked Ethel who as usual sat on the living room sofa.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” he answered.

“What are you eating?”

“Sardines and crackers.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Did you ever stop and ask yourself, What would my wife like for lunch. No, I know you don’t. You never have. All you do is think of yourself.”

“I know what I 'd like to give you for lunch. Ground glass comes to mind,” he thought.

“Make me a cup of tea and I’ll try a piece of toast and jam.”

“We are out of jam. I can give you cheese.”

“You know cheese binds me up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like to see me with intestinal distress.”

“Ethel, you don’t know what distress is. I know what distress is. It’s listening to you complain each and every day from sun up to when you go to bed. For goodness sake woman, don’t you realize that there’s nothing radically wrong with you?” he asked.

“According to you. Let me remind you of something Mister Dingledine. You are a teacher and a poor one at that. You teach biology. That does not make you a doctor even if you think you know everything. When to comes to me, you know absolutely nothing.”

“Wrong again Ethel. I know that you are one royal pain in the ass. Do you want tea? Get off of your ass and make it. Jam? Get dressed and walk down to the corner store and buy it.”

“You are heartless. You know how sick I am, but you pretend that there’s nothing wrong with me. You want me to die, don’t you? I’ve told Mrs. Kramer, next door that you wanted me dead.”

“Yes, I know. Mrs. Kramer told me what you said. Would you like to know what she said? She said that you are crazy. Mentally ill, bonkers and I’m starting to believe her.”

“You are a cruel man Herbert Dingldine, cruel. Had I known at the time you proposed that you were so mean and thoughtless I would have rejected you.”

“Oh, if only you had,” he replied.

“Say it. Say it. Say that you’re sorry that you married me.”

“Wrong again Ethel. I’m sorry that I ever met you,” said Herbert as he walked out of the house by the way of the back door.

Back in his garden, Herbert stood silently regaining his composure. When his heartbeat slowed and his respiration returned to normal he went to the shed and got a shovel. With it, he began digging and collecting potatoes and turnips. Soon he had two bushels of potatoes and one bushel of turnips. Most of these vegetables he would store in the root cellar he had dug and built under the side of the house. A friend of his at school supplied him with salt hay that he used to cover his bounty.

On Sunday morning Herbert brushed his black suit, shined his shoes and wearing a clean, white shirt and collar made his way to the Episcopal Church where he had worshiped at as a boy, and man. It was also the church where he and Ethel were married. Herbert entered the church and walked to the pew where he always sat. He genuflected, bending his knee as he bowed towards the altar and blessed himself. Then after taking his seat he knelt and prayed. When he was finished praying he looked to his right. He soon found Alberta on the other side of the church looking at him. She had a slight smile on her lips, but aware and satisfied that he had seen her, turned her head and turned the pages in the Common Book Of Prayer for her mother who sat next to her.

After the sermon and the end of services, Herbert walked slowly in line to the front door where he would shake hands and speak briefly to Father Holmes. Their conversations every Sunday morning were always the same. “Good to see you, Herbert. How is Ethel?”, asked the priest.

“Not feeling too well this morning Father.”

“What a shame. If you would like, I could stop around to see her, maybe give her comfort.”

“No, that isn’t necessary, but thank you for thinking of her.”

“I’ll remember her in my prayers.”

“Thank you, Father.”

After stepping onto the sidewalk Herbert made his way to where Alberta and her mother stood talking to members of the congregation. He waited until they were finished talking and when they turned he removed his hat and said,” Good morning Mrs. Collins and to you Miss Collins. Isn’t it a fine Sunday morning ?”

“Oh, good morning Mister Dingledine. Yes, it is. It is indeed,” said Mrs. Collins.

And a good morning to you Miss Collins. I trust you enjoyed Father Holmes sermon this day,” said Herbert.

“Yes of course. The sermon serves well in the attempt to prohibit sin in all of us. don’t you think?’, she asked.

“Yes, yes, unfortunately, it doesn’t always save us from sin or sinful thoughts,” Herbert replied. As he did he caught the hint of a twinkle in Alberta’s eyes.

“I hope that you both have a pleasant day,” he continued. He replaced and then tipped his hat and walked away.

Arriving home Herbert entered the living room and seeing Ethel who was still on the sofa said, “Today is Sunday. I’ll be making chicken and rice. I suppose you want green beans.”

“No, today I think I’d like to have beets. Beets sliced thin with lots of butter and just a sprinkle of black pepper.”

“That means I have to go outside and dig them. You always want green beans.”

“Not today Herbert. You inquired and I decided on beets. Now, if it’s too much to ask, just let me know. Maybe you’d like to see me go without as usual.”

“I can’t think of a thing that you go without Ethel, except maybe fresh air and exercise.”

“There you go again with the sarcasm. Are you going to get the beets or not?”

“I’m going. It gives me time away from you and your complaining.”

Once outside Herbert went to the shed unlocked the door and removed a shovel. He then went to the garden row where the beet tops grew high and healthy. As he began to dig he heard a voice. “Working your garden on the sabbath Herbert? that’s not like you.”

Herbert turned to the sound of the male voice. Seeing John Kramer he said, “Hello John. You’re correct. I shouldn’t be doing this but the wife insists that she has fresh beets for supper. I insisted that she eat green beans, but that only started another argument.”

“Well, you know the saying, Women, you can’t live with them and you can’t live without them,” said Kramer.

“I for one would like to live without them and the sooner the better,” Herbert replied.

After carrying a bunch of beets into the kitchen Herbert washed off the bits of soil that clung to the eatable root. He then cut off the beet greens and let them soak. As he worked his mind wandered. He thought back to when he had first met Ethel. “It was on the fourth of July, 1892. He had traveled to the Schuylkill River to watch the boat races as rowing was one of the

favorite sports of the people at that time. As he stood watching the individual shell races he detected a slight aroma of vanilla. Young women at that time would put a touch of it behind their ears using it as a fragrance. He turned his head and saw a tall, young woman who stood under a parasol using it to protect herself from the sun.

She was blond, blue-eyed and although not fat by any means was slightly, plump. “Do you have a favorite in the races Miss?’, he had asked.

The young woman had turned and after looking at the small, built man said, “No, I don’t. I come here for the sun and the fresh air.”

“I see, well it is indeed a fine day and not too warm for this time of year. July is usually a hot month here in the city,” he replied.

“I agree. Still, it is warm enough to create a thirst, said the woman.

“May I be so bold to invite you to join me at the refreshment stand and area. Perhaps a cold lemonade or sarsaparilla would quench your thirst,” said Herbert.

“I’m not in the habit of joining men that I’ve not been introduced to for lemonade or any other such meetings.”

“Then, please accept my apology. I shall not bother you any further.”

“Wait, if you are a gentleman and I suspect that you are, introduce yourself,” said the woman.

“Certainly. My name is Herbert Dingledine. I am a teacher of biology at a local high school. I attend church every Sunday. I’m single and like you, very thirsty.”

He remembered that she laughed. “I’m sorry, is there something funny?”, he had asked.

“Just your name. Dingledine. I’ve never heard the name Dingledine before,” she had said.

“It’s of German origin or so I’ve been told,” He had replied.

“I still think it sounds funny.”

“Now that you know my name and consider it humorous may I ask your name?”

“Ethel, Ethel Thompson. At the moment single and thinking of becoming a midwife.”

“A noble profession for a young lady I would presume,” he had said.

“I agree Mister Dingledine, now instead of conversing under this hot sun, may I agree to your invitation to a cool lemonade under the canopy?’

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Thompson,” he had said.

“Why did I speak to her? Why didn’t I just mind my own business, ignore her and walk away? No, after that first meeting I pursued her. I took her to band concerts in the park, ice cream socials, dinners. Then I wanted her, desired her, had to have her and the only way to have her was to marry her. So we were married. We took the train to Atlantic City and had a weekend honeymoon. The wedding night was a disaster. I spent the night looking out of the hotel window as my new bride cried and called me a brute. The only good thing was bathing in the ocean. He had rented a bathing suit at a bath house and spent the day jumping in the ocean waves and laying on the sand. Ethel stayed in the hotel room still upset by the requests of a husband.

He bought them a house. It was a row house on Fourth Street. It was small with one bedroom, but it had a large, backyard. He saw the yard as a place to escape from the trap he had made for himself in a bad, marriage. And, so as the years passed Ethel became more of a hypochondriac, more demanding and more attention seeking. All these things at first created resentment towards her until now hated for her had manifested itself in him. He wished her dead.”

After placing the sliced beets in a pot he added water from the sink and placed the pot on the back burner of the stove. He took a long look at the mason jar filled with green beans, beans that he had intended to serve to Ethel. He picked it up and carried it to the pantry. There he put it back on the shelf with the others.

When he walked back into the kitchen he turned to the ice box and check the size of the block of ice. Seeing that it was just about used up he called to Ethel. “Was the ice man here this week?”, he asked.

“Probably. Someone knocked on the door, but I was too sick to get up and answer it. Besides, he’ll be here sometime next week.”

“In the meantime, the food in the ice box might go bad.”

“You could always go down the street and buy a block at Foster’s. He has ice.”

“I know that Ethel. I have Mr. Metzer deliver ice just so I don’t have to go, buy ice and carry it home. Answer the door. You know when Metzer comes to deliver.”

“Now, it’s my fault. Me, always me that causes problems. Me, never you. You must hate me.”

“ You don’t know just how much I do,” he thought.

“Since you mentioned food, what are we having for dinner?”, she asked.

“I told you chicken and rice.”

“Are you cooking it in the oven or on top of the stove?”

“On top of the stove.”

“I prefer that you cook it in the oven.”

“Doing that dries it out.”

“Not if you know what you’re doing.”

“Well since you know more than me get up off of the couch and come here and cook.”

“I knew you’d say that. You always infer that my illness is just a figment of my imagination. Someday I hope you have and experience the pain I have each and every day.”

“You have no idea just how much pain you give me and have given to me day after day, month after month, year after year. You miserable bitch of a woman!”, he thought.

Herbert selected a large pot with a lid placed the previously cooked chicken in the pot, added a raw, peeled onion, salt, and black pepper and placed it on top of the stove.

“I hear you, Herbert. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re cooking the chicken on top of the stove. Sure. Do it your way. Always thinking of yourself. Not what I would like.”

Ignoring Ethel’s complaining Herbert went again to the pantry and removed a jar of wax beans. These he would have with his supper.

“Herbert! I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Then go. Who’s stopping you?”

“I need help. I’m unsteady on my feet.”

“Alright, I’m coming.”

“Don’t sound so pathetic. All I’m asking for is for you to help me to the bathroom.

“Here, lean on me,” said Herbert.

Once Ethel was in the bathroom and the door was closed Herbert went back to the kitchen and began peeling potatoes. Once again he was interrupted when Ethel called, “Herbert? The toilet is stopped up again.”

“You use too much toilet paper. I’ve told you about that before,” said Herbert in anger.

“Oh. Now it’s my fault. Not the fault of the toilet or the old plumbing system of this house. I cause the toilet to malfunction. The last time it overflowed when I flushed it. Me I’m to blame.”

“Go sit on the couch and get out of my way,” he said.

“Gladly. At least there I get some comfort and relief.”

“That’s more than I get,” he thought.

Chapter Three

Alberta

By the time that Herbert got to the faculty lunch room he found Alberta already seated at a table. “I’m sorry for being late. I had a student who needed information on metamorphoses,” said Herbert.

“ Please don’t fret Herbert. I just got here myself. Now, sit down,” Alberta replied.

Herbert took a seat at the table then opened the brown, paper bag containing his sandwich. “And, how are you today Alberta,” he asked.

“Fine, and you?”

“The same. Always the same.”

“You sound very melancholy. Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing that you should be concerned about. How is your mother?”

“Also fine. Herbert, I need an answer to whether or not you are going to escort me to the concert.”

“ You know how I feel about protecting your reputation.”

“Please, we’ve been through with that bit of conversation for some time.””

“Very well. Your persistence overwhelms me. What time shall I call on you the night of the event?”

“Don’t come to the house. I shall take the trolly and meet you in front of the Academy Of Music.”

“Fine, if that’s what you want.”

“I do. Now that that’s settled. I brought you a piece of cake that I baked. I hope you like chocolate.”

“I do, actually.”

*************

Alberta Collins, young, attractive and intelligent had been raised by just her mother after the death of Alberta’s father. As a result, she grew up under the system of rules of the Edwardian theory of proper ways of a young lady. First, was chastity which necessitated being properly being chaperoned when in the presence of young men. Second, was the need for manners. Third, was learning the ways of operating a household when it came time for marriage. In these things, Alberta had been well schooled. When it came to education she saw herself unlike the young women of her time. Others were content to marry and more or less become the property of their husbands. They were satisfied, allowing their husbands to make all or nearly all of the decisions regarding her life. Not so when it came to Alberta. She saw herself not a subservient to men or an equal. In her mind she was superior. It was not she that went to the homes of young men to begin a courtship. No, young men came to her and she delighted knowing just how disappointed they were when she refused their proposals. Yet, it was older men that she fancied. Older men were more mature, set in their ways and in some cases, educated. Alberta was educated having graduated from high school and then Normal School. She had prepared herself for a profession in which she could perform for many years. At the same time, she was confident, knowing that she was much more qualified than many of her male counterparts at the school.

Deep inside she resented the fact that some of the teachers at the high school operated under a mere high school diploma. One such individual was Herbert Dingledine. Often she would watch him as he sat alone at a table in the faculty lunch room eating a sandwich brought from home as he read a newspaper.

She noticed that the newspaper was not the same every day and realized that in all probability the man was reading discarded papers left on the trolly car by people each morning. She also noticed that he had a habit of stroking his mustache after each bite of sandwich or sip of tea as if he was afraid that it had changed shape or color. He was married and from what she could determine not happily. To her, he presented himself to be the perfect object for her venture. She would seduce him. Not sexually, but mentally. She wanted him to want her, to need her, to want to be with her constantly. He would become her subordinate, doing what she said, what she ordered. Alberta smiled to herself as she watched him from across the faculty lunch room.

On the evening of Friday, November sixteen, 1900 Herbert Dingledine stood in front of the Academy Of Music, located at Broad and Locust Streets in Philadelphia. A cool, night, autumn breeze gently blew issuing a warning that winter was on the way. As each trolly car stopped and discharged passengers Herbert looked anxiously, searching for the sight of Alberta Collins. From time to time he removed his pocket watch from his vest pocket, noted the time then replaced it, only to check the time again. Finally, he saw her. She crossed the street and upon seeing him waved a hand.

When she stood in front of him she asked, “Have you been waiting long?”

“No,” he answered with a lie.

“Good, then let’s go inside. I want to get seats as close as possible near the front row in the balcony,” she said.

Herbert smiled. Alberta was attired in a black, wool suit consisting of a skirt and jacket, white blouse and a black straw hat with feathers. “Ethel has a suit just like Alberta’s. It cost me almost thirteen dollars,” he thought. “Then I suggest we go inside,” he said, delighted when she took his arm.

They were able to find two seats in the second row of the balcony and once seated and comfortable Alberta reached up with two hands and removed her hat by first removing the long, hat pin. As she did Herbert read the program. He was happy to learn that one of the numbers to be played by the orchestra was

Rimsky-Korsacov’s Flight Of The Bumble Bee. He had heard the tune played on a record player and was amazed at the sound of the violins portraying the sound of a bee in flight. After that the orchestra would perform, playing, Scheherazade. Something

Herbert had not heard before. Reading the program he learned that the music was in relation to the Tales Of a Thousand And One nights. He looked forwards to hearing it.

After the concert, the couple made their way out of the balcony onto the lobby and then, outside. Alberta turned and said, “Thank you, Herbert, for escorting me.”

“Actually, the pleasure was all mine. Thank you for inviting me. Now, if I may, I’d like to escort you home.”

“Thank you, no. As I mentioned, my cousin, a member of the orchestra will see me home. I will wait for him here.”

“Then, may I wait with you?”

“Of course. He’ll be easy to find in the crowd. He’ll be carrying a cello in its case.”

“In that event, I believe he is approaching as we speak.”

“Ah yes. Herbert, allow me to introduce you to my cousin Andrew,” said Alberta.

Herbert shook hands with the man and said, “It is indeed a pleasure to meet you sir. May I also say how much I and I assume we, enjoyed the concert.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” said Andrew.”

“It must be a difficult score to play,” Herbert continued.

“Actually there is much cello in the Sinbad And The Vessel Is Lost. Duplicating the sound of a storm is what is required in our section,” Andrew related.

“I see. Well, in any event, the concert was superb. Now, that you are here to escort Alberta home I bid you both a good night,” said Herbert as he tipped his hat.

When Herbert arrived home it was nearly ten o’clock in the evening. He quietly entered the living room expecting to see Ethel in her usual position on the sofa. To his surprise she wasn’t there. He stood silently for a moment listening. Soon he detected the sound of her soft snoring. She was in bed and asleep.

On the following Monday morning, he looked forward to seeing and talking with Alberta at lunch. Much to his disappointment upon his arrival in the lunch room, he saw that Helen Morris, a history teacher sat at the table with Alberta.

Not knowing what to do he stood in silence looking at her and at the same time held his brown paper bag containing his sandwich. He saw an empty table and turned to walk to it when he heard Alberta call, “Mister Dingledine, won’t you join us?”

He turned with a questionable look on his face, then forcing a smile, said, “Of course. I don’t want to interrupt anything,” as he approached the table.

“You won’t be. Sit down and have your lunch. I’m sure you know Miss Morris,” said Alberta.

“Yes of course. How are you, Miss Morris?”

“Fine Mr. Dingledine and may I ask how you are and also your wife, Ethel?”, asked Helen.

“Ethel I’m afraid is poorly, but then again its been said that she has a delicate condition,” he replied.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that Mister Dingledine. Surely looking after a woman in declining health must be burdensome”, said Alberta all the while enjoying Herbert’s discomfort in speaking about his wife.

“One does what one has to do,” Herbert responded.

“I find it sad that our youth and vitality leaves us too soon. Leaving us aging and depending on someone else to take care of us,” said Alberta looking directly at Herbert.

“I assume that you’re referring to the situation with your mother,” said Helen.

“Of course,” Alberta answered.

“Well, I must leave you two. I have things t do before my next class. It was nice seeing you Mister Dingledine, said Helen Morris. Dingledine rose out of his chair as Helen got up and left.

He sat down again and slowly reached into the paper bag for his sandwich. “Well Herbert, soon it will be Thanksgiving and then Christmas. Time is rushing by, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes indeed.”

“Have you decided on what you will give your wife for Christmas?’, asked Alberta.

“Yes, a bed jacket.”

“I see. You must think that it’s appropriate”

“Yes, I do.”

“ I must mention something Herbert and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. You see, the school will be closed for the holidays. That means I won’t be able to see you. As your friend I want you to know that I worry about you. My question is how will I know how you are during that time?”

“Why do you worry about me?”, he asked.

“Herbert, I’m sure by now that you know that you and I have a certain kind of friendship. May I suggest something?”

“Certainly.”

“Will you meet me on Saturdays?”

“Of course. Where?”

“The Public Library.”

“On Chestnut Street?”

“Yes, silly. It’s the only one.”

“I have heard that it is not very clean there,’ he said.

“I said meet me. We don’t have to stay.”

“Fine. Then I’ll leave everything else up to you.”

“Of course, as it should be,” said Alberta with a smile.

On certain Saturdays, those always selected by Alberta, Herbert would leave the house and take the trolly to Chestnut Street. There he waited patiently for her to arrive. When she did they would then proceed to one of the many museums in the city.Again, it would Alberta who selected just which museum they would attend for the day. One day it could be the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Franklin Institute or The Pennsylvania Museum of fine Art. In her way of thinking it would not be too unusual for two teachers from the same school to be seen together. They could always claim that they were researching either art or science for a curriculum for the high school.

After their day together Herbert would race back to the library and remove and sign for Darwin’s Theory Of Evolution. Carrying the book home he would convince Ethel that he had spent the day doing research for the purpose of improving his lesson plans. She never questioned him.

Usually, each evening after Alberta saw to her mother's needs she would bathe and dressed in her nightgown and robe would then sit in the parlor and either read or listen to music played on the phonograph. She preferred classical music, but on occasion listened to such recordings as Arthur Collin’s ( no relation) “Hello My Baby.” Other evenings she would sit quietly in a rocking chair and think. Deep in thought, she would plan her next move on Herbert Dingledine. “ I must become more daring, exhibit more of my charms. Perhaps I will accidentally expose an ankle. Still, I must maintain my position as a young lady. I must not be too obvious. I want him to want me, want me so bad that it causes him heartache,” she thought.

On their next, Saturday meeting the couple walked past the hanging paintings. Alberta stopped in front of the painting, “The Huntsman And Dogs’, by Winslow Homer. She slowly turned her head, first to the left, then to the right. Seeing that no one else was about she said in a low voice, “Herbert, I’m afraid that we must stop seeing each other.”

“Why?”, asked Herbert.

“ Because you see in my opinion there is no future for us.”

“Of course there is Alberta.”

“How? You’re married and I see no movement on your part to get a divorce.”

“I’ll figure something out. Just give me time.”

“You have had plenty of time. Let me ask you. Do you love me?”

“Of course dear one. Keep in mind that I’m married to a sickly woman. I’m certain that one of the conditions of a divorce would be that she is well taken care of in the final decree. That would probably mean giving her the house and a weekly income.”

“Is that so bad? We have my house. Right now it’s mother’s, but eventually, I will inherit it. We can live very nicely there.

“You know what my weekly salary is, don’t you?”

“I’m sure that we could manage.”

“ I’ll think of something.”

“You say you will, but somehow I don’t think you will.”

“Believe me, Alberta, we’ll be together just as soon as I can get rid of Ethel.”

Alberta smiled, “ Alright Herbert, do it soon. I’m getting older each and every day. I want a husband and children. You do want children, don’t you Herbert?”

“Of course dear one. Of course.”

“Fine. Now, I fancy a light lunch with a cup of tea. Come, we’ve seen enough art for one day.”

After a day out Alberta returned home. When she entered the parlor she was met by her mother. “How was your day dear?”. Asked her mother.

“Fine mother.”

“A young man called for you while you were out.”

“Really, who?”

“A Mister Alistair. Homer Alistair.”

Alberta stood thinking for a moment trying to remember the name and attempting to connect the name with a face. Then, she remembered. The young man was a substitute teacher who had taught at the high school a few times replacing members of the faculty who were either ill or not able to teach on any particular day for any reason. As she recalled, Alistair was tall, muscular and had dark hair. He was clean shaven and handsome. Still, he wasn’t what she wanted in a man. To her, he was too young. Good looking young men did not have the patience or the will to do as they were told by a young woman. Young, single men could play the field. She wanted a man who wanted her, desired her, needed her and was willing to do anything just to be accepted and gain her love. She wanted a man like Herbert Dingledine. At present, she enjoyed the game she was playing. She was winning the game.

That evening she sat in the rocker, this time in the dark. There were times when she enjoyed the darkness. This was one of those times. Darkness had the illusion of aiding sorcery, something that unknown to others Alberta studied from time to time. It was the reason that made her want to control men, older men. Right now, she was in control of Herbert. He was bending to her will. Soon, very soon, he would bow to her wishes. He would divorce his wife, be forced to give her everything. Then, practically destitute he would be forced to come to her. It would be on her terms. When he was finally broke of finances, property, and reputation she would turn him away. By then he would have nothing left to offer her, only his love. She could find love anywhere and anytime she wanted it. She smiled to herself in the dark.

Chapter Four

Death

On a Saturday when Alberta made no plans for them Herbert sat in his living room reading. Across from him seated on the sofa, Ethel watched him. “So, you’re staying home on a Saturday. What’s wrong? Is the brothel closed?,” she asked.

Herbert looked at her astonished that she would ask such a thing. “I don’t know what you are talking about and I certainly don’t visit brothels,” he answered.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you’re whoring around. You leave here on Saturday mornings and come back smelling of Lily Of The Valley. I do not use fragrance, so you can’t say you picked up the aroma from me.”

“Ethel, you’re being foolish.”

“Foolish am I? You forget that I know how long it takes you to develop a lesson plan. This one that you’ve been working on has taken almost two months. I might be ill, but I’m not stupid.”

“For you to even suggest such a thing is not only wrong but it’s insulting.”

“Hogwash!”

“Have it your way, but if I was being unfaithful I would have plenty of reason to do it. You aren’t the most romantic woman in Philadelphia.”

“Here we go again. You, making the demands of a husband. I will not be a slave to your depravity.”

“Depravity? All I want is the normal relations between a husband and his wife.”

“Sure, you’d like to see me die in childbirth, wouldn’t you?”

“ Woman, I don’t care how you die. I just want you to die,” he thought.

“Ethel, I’ve heard enough. Think what you want, even if you’re wrong. I’ll be outside in the shed.’

“Fine, run away like the weak individual you are. Just make sure that you’re back in time to make supper and put down more poison at the back door.”

Still angry, Herbert opened the door to the shed. There he had an old kitchen chair that he used when he had to sit and work on a project. He took a seat and began to think. “What a terrible life I lead. A shrew for a wife. One that stands in my way of happiness , perhaps with another woman. A woman who shares my interests in the arts, music, theater, literature, with the same religion. I’m stuck with a woman who does nothing from morning to night, except whining about her imagined health problems. If she were really ill from all of the sicknesses she has claimed over the years she would have been dead by now. Oh, how I wish she were.”

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard his name called. “Herbert, nice to see you home on a Saturday at last. What have you been up to recently?’, said John Kramer, leaning over the fence.

“Hello, John. To tell you the truth I’ve been at the library on Saturdays doing research for a new lesson plan I have in mind. How have you been?”

“Not too bad. How’s Ethel?”

“The same, always the same.”

“So, what brings you out to the shed. Your garden days are over until Spring,” said Kramer.

“ Just rearranging things and taking inventory. I have to buy more Paris green,” Dingledine answered.

“Does that stuff really work?”

“So far it has, I use Bergers. It’s supposed t be the best.”

“In my opinion poison is poison.”

“Yes, but I think there are different kinds and strengths. I want to be sure that it works.”

“Did it solve all of your problems?”, asked Kramer.

“Almost, not quite. You know Ethel. She needs more.”

“Well, good talking to you Herbert.”

“Stay well John.”

After spending two hours in the shed doing nothing more than killing time Herbert looked at hs pocket watch, noticed the time and decided that it was time to begin preparing the evening meal. He closed and locked the shed door then made his way to the backdoor. He entered the laundry room and then the pantry.

In the pantry, he removed a Mason jar filled with green beans and a jar of yellow beans. He then carried both into the kitchen.

“It’s about time you came inside and got supper ready. It’s not going to cook itself, you know,” said Ethel loudly.

“It’s early yet. Besides, what I have in mind won’t take long,” he answered.

“What are we having, may I ask?”

“Pork chops, boiled potatoes and string beans.”

“You say string beans. I hope to heaven that you mean green beans when it comes to me.”

“Naturally.”

“I didn’t hear you mention biscuits.”

“I didn’t make biscuits.”

“Why not?”

“First of all I didn’t think of biscuits and second of all I don’t have time to make them.”

“You could have taken the time to make them. No, you have to sit out there in your shed doing God only knows what. Two hours, that’s how long you were out there. Two hours that could have been spent making and baking biscuits. You know I like biscuits, but do you care? I don’t think so Herbert.”

“You’ll just have to be satisfied with bread and butter. Anyway, I usually make biscuits for the Sunday meal. I’ll make them for you tomorrow.”

“Oh no. I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way just to please me. Forget it. I'm used to going without.”

“Tell me please, just what do you go without? I wait on you hand and foot. I cook your meals, clean the house and even make the bed in the morning before I go to work. On my way home from work I do the shopping. If I’m not buying groceries I’m at the pharmacy purchasing headache powders, lotions or lineaments. You’re either constipated or have diarrhea. I have to spend time telling the druggist that you either need something to make you shit, or to stop it. Headaches, pains, upset stomach, dizziness, you have them all. Funny, your doctor has never once diagnosed one particular disease that you’re suffering from. And, speaking of doctors, you’ve had three different ones in two years.”

“They were inferior.”

“I’ll tell you what’s inferior, your mental state.”

“Well, if you don’t think I’m I’ll, try this. I’m sick of explaining everything to you. Just call me when supper is ready.”

Forty minutes later Herbert said in a loud voice, “Dinner is ready.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just hope that I don’t fall in my weakened condition,” said Ethel.”

“I hope you don’t fall either. As fat as you are I’d have to replace the floor boards.”

“Oh, you’re cruel Herbert Dingledine, cruel.”

“Just sit down and eat.”

“Very well. Pass me the green beans.”

It was shortly after midnight when he heard Ethel call to him. In a daze while half asleep he realized that she wasn’t in bed. “What’s wrong?”, he asked.

“ I can’t see. Everything is a blur. My fingers and toes are numb and I’ve been on the toilet since ten o’clock.”

“Here we go again. It’s nothing new for you Ethel. Your vision is always blurred. That’s why you have three pairs of eyeglasses which may I say never work.”

“Herbert, please don’t scold me. I’m sick really sick. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Herbert got close to her and took a good look. This time she appeared different. First of all, she was wet from perspiration. Her lips were blue an indication that she wasn’t receiving enough oxygen. “Can you make it back to bed?”, he asked.

“I’ll try.”

“Here, let me help you,” he said putting his arm around her waist. As he did he noticed her trembling, something she had never done before. With her in bed again he noticed her difficulty in breathing. He knew what he had to do.”I’ll be right back Ethel. I have to wake the Kramer's and have them call for an ambulance.”

“Hurry Herbert. Please hurry.”

Still dressed in his nightshirt, Herbert raced next door and began banging on Kramer’s front door with his closed fist. “John! John! Wake up. I need you! I need you to call for an ambulance! Ethel’s very sick.”

Herbert saw the light go on, but it seemed like hours before John Kramer opened his front door. “Ethel, you say? What’s wrong?”, asked Kramer.

“She’s not breathing very well. Please call an ambulance. You have a telephone. I don’t.”

“Very well, just calm down. I’ll call. You go back to the house and stay with your wife.”

“I will John. I will. Please ask them to hurry.”

********************

Hours later Herbert paced back and forth in the hospital lobby. He was confused. Wanting her to live meant continuing to live with her in the same manner. Wanting her dead was unchristian, something that he might face later in the hereafter.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a voice say, “Mister Dingledine?”

Herbert turned to see a man dressed in a white surgical gown. “Yes?”, said, Herbert.

“Mister Dingledine. We did everything we could in an attempt to save your wife. I’m sad to tell you that we lost her.”

“My wife is dead?’, asked Herbert.

“Yes, sir. You have my deepest sympathy.”

“Herbert fought the smile trying to form on his lips and hoped that the doctor didn’t notice. “Do you know what caused her death?”, asked Herbert.

“Right now it appears to be the result of botulism. Do you know what she had to eat last?”

“Pork chops, potatoes and green beans, bread and butter and coffee.”

“I assume that at this time of year the beans were canned, not fresh.”

“That’s correct. I canned them myself,” said Herbert.

“Yet, you didn’t seem to be affected”, said the doctor.”

“I didn’t have the green beans.”

“I see. Well, with your permission we will run some tests in order to make a determination. We’ll let you know of our results. Should you need anything, records or anything feel free to call me. “I’m Doctor Francis Pittman.”

“Thank you, doctor. First, I have to make arrangements for my wife’s funeral.”

“Of course. I understand.”

Three days later on a cold, winter, February morning Herbert stood at Ethel’s graveside. He watched as the undertaker's staff, acting as pallbearers placed the coffin then walk away. Father Holmes then began to speak. “I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; he that believeth in me, though he be dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”

As Father Holmes spoke Herbert stood deep in thought.

“ He was free. He was single again, able to come and go as he pleased. Ethel’s voice would not be heard again. Her complaints, her whining, her imaginary ills. It was all gone. Now, there is a chance for a new life. I can marry again, sire children, travel if I so desire. With Alberta, I can sell the house I live in and pocket the money, put it in the bank, have a nest egg for both of us. I can’t wait to see her and tell her of my plans.”

Herbert returned to work on a Monday morning. When he did he accepted the condolences from the members of the faculty. For some strange reason, Alberta did not offer words of comfort. Instead, she simply said, “How are you, Herbert?”

“Fine. I must speak with you, Alberta. I have so much to tell you,” he said.

“Herbert, lower your voice. People will hear us and make assumptions,” said Alberta.

“Let them. don’t you understand, I’m free.”

“We will talk later, but not here in school.”

“Then, where and when?”, he asked.

“I will let you know. In the meantime, we will keep our liaison private, as it has always been.”

“ I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

“Good, now we will meet in the lunchroom as usual. I want you to act as though you are still saddened by the loss of your wife. Not as a suitor after my attention. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Alberta.”

On Saturday afternoon Herbert took the trolly and got off at the stop nearest to the street where Alberta lived. Single now, there was no need to sneak around or have meetings at the library or museums. He walked briskly to the house, climbed the three steps to the porch and knocked lightly on the front door.

A few minutes later Alberta opened the door and looked at him.
“Good afternoon Alberta,” he said

“Hello, Herbert. Please, come in. Give me your hat. We can sit and talk in the parlor,” she said.

“Excellent. I have so much I want to tell you,” he replied.

“Before you do, may I offer you a cup of tea?”

“No. No, thank you.”

“Very well. Now have a seat and tell me what’s on your mind,” she instructed.

“Before I do may I ask, where is your mother?”

“Visiting her sister. We are quite alone.”

“In that case, I shall begin. As you know the death of Ethel leaves me free now to marry. All you have to do love is announce our engagement and set a date for the wedding.”

“I shall do no such thing!”

“Why not?”

“Marrying so quick after your wife’s death would indicate that we had been having an affair while she was alive.”

“So what? Actually in a way we were.”

“But never intimate. Keep in mind that people would assume that we were.”

“Alberta, I don’t care. Marry me.”

Herbert, I suggest that you have a mourning period before we do anything.”

“ Fine and just how long would you suggest?”

“At least a year.”

“A year?”

“Certainly. That way our being together would appear to be natural. I would be seen as the young woman who offers and gives comfort to a man who had lost his wife. You, on the other hand, would be seen as a man looking to fill the void in his life by marrying again. Actually, you would be seen as a suitor.”

After Herbert left Alberta sat alone thinking. “Things have changed. I never expected that his wife would die. Now, he’s free, independent, able to make decisions, decisions that I might not necessarily like. The death has not only freed him of Ethel it has also made him potentially free from me. I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all. I could go along with seeing him, but there is no adventure in doing it. I enjoyed the surreptitious meetings, because of the danger of being seen together. That will not be the same now. There is no danger, no thrill. It’s all gone.”

Herbert walked into the saloon. As he did he enjoyed the feeling of being free, able to stop and have a cold beer without having to explain just why he had the smell of stale beer and cigar smoke on his person. The ten cents he paid for a beer in Ethel’s mind could have been used to pay for her medications, medications that never worked.

He took a sip of beer from the glass then placed it on top of the bar. Reaching into his rear pocket he removed a clean handkerchief then used it to blot the foam that had adhered to his mustache. He looked around, saw other men, mostly working men. Some sat at tables, others, like him stood at the bar. When no one was watching, he lifted one foot and placed it on the brass rail. After he did, he suddenly felt manly. It had been a long, long time since he had that feeling before. Now, he didn’t feel different or weak. Ethel’s death was as if someone had lifted a tremendous burden from his shoulders. He was free and he enjoyed being free. “Bartender? Another draft please,” he ordered.

Chapter Five

Investigation

It was on a warm, April morning that Herbert Dingledine decided that he could finally begin work on his next spring garden. The first thing he had to do was spread compost over the garden area and then till it into the ground. He walked to the shed, unlocked the padlock and opened the shed door. Then, putting on his gardening gloves took a pitchfork, placed it in the wheel barrel and pushed it out to the place where he wanted to work. Then he spent the next two hours spreading and tilling.

As the sun grew higher in the sky the temperature of the air increased causing him to perspire. He stopped. Leaning on the pitchfork and using his handkerchief wiped the sweat from his brow and the inside of his hat, paying attention to the leather hatband.

“Mister Dingledine?”

Herbert turned to the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He saw the head of a man standing on his property.

“Yes, can I help you?”, asked Herbert.

“I hope so. I’m Detective Sergeant Frank Bernhardt of the Philadelphia Police Department,” said the man showing his badge.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“About what?”

“The death of your wife, Ethel.”

“Fine, what would you like to know?”

Bernhardt looked around then said, “This isn’t a very good place for us to talk. May we go inside the house?”

“Certainly, come this way.”

The Detective followed Herbert through the back door, into the pantry, kitchen and finally, the living room. “Have a seat, anywhere,” said Herbert.

“Thank you. Now then, it has come to our attention that your wife, Ethel died in the hospital as a result of what appeared to be food poisoning at the time,” said Bernhardt.

“That’s correct. As a matter of fact that’s what I was told by the attending physician,” Herbert replied.

“I believe the doctor also told you that test would be conducted just to affirm his decision, correct?”

“Yes, as I recall he did.”

“And, have you received any reports regarding ant further tests?”

“No, not as yet.”

“Well, Doctor Pittman is convinced that the cause of your wife’s death was the ingestion of bad, green beans.”

“Yes, that’s correct. As a matter of fact, he asked me if I had green beans for supper.”

“Did you?”

“No, I don’t like them.”

“Yes, I know. It seems that you prefer yellow beans or so I’ve been told.”

“I do. I do indeed. I take it that you’ve spoken to Doctor Pittman.”

“Speaking of green beans, I noticed as we came through your pantry that the shelves a full of Mason jars containing vegetables.”

“Yes, gardening is one of my hobbies. Cooking and preserving is another.”

“Would you be so kind as to give me a jar of your green beans? I would like to perform tests on them,” said Bernhardt.

“For botulism?”

“Of course.”

“Certainly. I’ll go get it for you now.”

“And, perhaps a jar of the yellow beans.”

“ As I said, I ate the yellow beans. They seem fine.”

“ Like you, I enjoy yellow beans.’

“Then take a jar with my compliments”

On Monday, at ten o’clock in the morning, Sergeant Bernhardt sat in the office of Samuel Jennings, Principal of the high school where Herbert was employed. “Thank you for seeing me Mr. Jennings. Allow me to tell you exactly why I’m here. A member of your faculty, a Mr. Herbert Dingledine recently lost his wife. Her death was either accidental or perhaps something else happened to her. Unfortunately, my job is to ascertain the facts. I hope you understand.”

“I do indeed. However, when it comes to Herbert Dingledine may I say that he is an exceptionally, excellent teacher. He is always on time, presents his lesson plans to the head of the science curriculum and spends time with his students, in particular, those that might be failing.”

“How is he regarded by other members of the faculty?’, asked the Sergeant.

“As far as I know, very well. I know that he is very friendly with Miss Alberta Collins. She is an English teacher here.”

“Friendly, you say,” said Bernhardt as he wrote Alberta’s name in his notebook.

“Oh yes. They often have lunch together in the faculty lunch room. Other times Herbert has helped Alberta with her lesson plans.”

“Help her how. She teaches English. He teaches biology.”

“As I recall, they toured the various art museums searching for artwork related to Shakespeare. Alberta planned to include Shakespeare’s plays in her classroom. Such things as a painting of Ophelia or The Winter’s Tale would be a type of teaching aid, you see.”

“Yes, of course. Well, thank you very much, Mr. Jennings. You have been a great help,” said Bernhardt.

“You’re welcome, sir. I trust that Mr. Dingldine is in no trouble with the law,”

“ That’s not for me to determine sir. Thank you again.”

The following Saturday, Frank Bernhardt knocked on the front door of the home owned by Harriet Collins. “Alberta! Someone's at the door,” she said loudly.

“I’ll get it mother,” said Alberta as she made her way to the entrance She opened the door and saw a tall man with a heavy, brown mustache, dressed in a brown suit and wearing a tan derby. “Yes?” she asked.

“Miss Alberta Collins?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you, Miss. I’m Sergeant Frank Bernhardt of the Philadelphia Police Department. I’d like to ask you some questions if I may,” he said showing his badge.”

“About what, may I ask?”

“About a Mister Herbert Dingledine.”

Alberta stepped out onto the porch, closing the front door behind her. “Sergeant, I’d be glad to answer any questions you may have about Mister Dingledine, but I’m afraid your questions along with my answers might upset my mother. Could we do this another time?”

“Certainly Miss. Here is my card. Call me at headquarters and we can set up a meeting. We can meet at the location you choose or at headquarters. Your choice.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” said Alberta.

“My pleasure.”’

At two PM the following Saturday Frank Bernhardt walked into a place called, Lilly’s Tea Room. When he did he quickly scanned the people seated at tables with his eyes. He saw Alberta Collins sitting at a corner table in the rear of the room. He slowly walked towards her as he removed the derby from his head. He stopped, looked at her and said, “Thank you for meeting with me.”

Alberta smiled. “Please sit down.”

Bernhardt took a seat and when a young waitress appeared next to their table said, “Just coffee for me, cream and sugar.”

“That’s odd, a robust man such as you I would think that you would prefer your coffee black,” said Alberta.

“I must confess to having a sweet tooth, as they say.”

“I see, now just what do you wish to know about Mister Dingledine?, she asked.

Bernhardt smiled. “Let’s start with the relationship between the two of you, he said.

“Platonic at best,” she answered.

“Really, I’ve been told that you and he have lunch together at the same table nearly every day at school.”

“He is a member of the faculty. All of us eat at the same time. Us sharing a table means absolutely, nothing.”

“Possibly to you, not so to others. There is even the possibility of an amorous liaison between you two.”

“I can’t imagine where or how you could make such a conclusion.”

“Well, the fact that you and Herbert Dingledine had meetings at the public library on certain Saturdays and toured the local museums together points in that direction.”

“Sergeant, I’ll have you know that I am a respectable, young lady. Mister Dingledine at one time was married. His wife died recently. Nonetheless, I assure you there was nothing remotely inappropriate in our relationship.”

“The fact that his wife died recently is why I’m here talking to you today.”

“What do you mean? It’s been said that his wife died from a case of botulism.”

“I know what’s been said. Now, tell me and believe me, what you say to me will be kept confidential. Tell me, was there any romantic notions on the part of Herbert Dingledine towards you?”

Alberta blushed. “Well, I must admit that he did attempt to woo me. Like I said. I am a lady.”

Bernhardt smiled. “Please explain the word, woo.”

“Very well. He more or less attempted to become a suitor. I must admit that at first I was flattered. However, due to the fact that he was a married man I resisted his advances.”

“Yet, you chose to keep his friendship.”

“Yes.”

“Why? Most women would be insulted by such actions from a married man.”

“I, I, I guess I felt sorry for him,” Alberta stammered.

“I see. Well, I think we’ve talked enough for one day. I’ll be in touch if I need to talk to you again. Now, then give me the check. Your tea and crumpet is being paid for by the Philadelphia Police Department.”

******************

Two weeks later Detective Sergeant Frank Bernhardt sat at his desk reading a laboratory report. “Analysis of blood, hair and tissue samples from the deceased, Ethel Thompson Dingledine, submitted, examined and tested produced the following: All samples tested revealed a large amount of arsenic-containing copper. It is possible that the subject, Ethel Thompson Dingledine ingested low amounts of arsenic over a period of time resulting in her eventual death.

Tests conducted of the canned string beans,(green) resulted in small traces of arsenic being found. Examination of the jar containing string beans, (yellow) found no traces of arsenic.

Tests were also conducted for the presence of botulism. These tests were negative.”

Bernhardt smiled. “ So, it appears that the little man got tired of waiting for his wife to either divorce him or die. His affair with Alberta Collins gives him a motive. Actually, Alberta knows more than she’s telling. I’ll work on her later. Right now, I need to find the source of the arsenic. I’ll get a search warrant.”, he thought.

Two days later Herbert stood in the sunshine in his backyard as police detectives after searching his home then began searching his tool shed. “I’ve got it!” said a detective, to Sergeant Bernhardt. The Sergeant walked to the doorway of the shed and took a green, cardboard container of Berger’s Paris Green, marked poison. He then walked back to where Herbert stood watching.

“What can you tell me about this,” asked The Sergeant.

“I use it to kill garden pests, rats, and mice,” said Herbert.

“Well, for the time being, I have another use for it,” said Bernhardt.

“Such as?”, asked Herbert.

“Such as evidence in accordance with your wife’s death.”

“What are you inferring, Sergeant?”

“Not a thing sir. Any inference about your wife’s death will come from the County Prosecutor, not from me.”

After the police left. Herbert tossed his copy of the search warrant onto the kitchen table. “A search warrant? Of all things. It’s the same as accusing me of being responsible for Ethel’s death. Me, the one who waited on her hand and foot. Sure, she was a constant pain in the ass and I certainly wished her dead many times, but I would never kill her. After all, my plan was To seek a divorce when the time was right. That way I would have been free legally to marry Alberta. Divorce was never mentioned because Ethel died before I could discuss it with her. Even the doctor at the hospital said her death appeared to have been caused by food poisoning. Now, the police are generalizing. I believe that they are manufacturing evidence to be used against me. Am I afraid? No, because I didn’t do anything. My only transgression was in seeing Alberta. Still, no infidelity took place. Basically, I did nothing wrong. Nothing at all,” he thought.

The next day Herbert stood helplessly in the faculty lunch room. Alberta sat having lunch with Tom Fisher and Margaret Binder. She ignored him completely pretending he wasn’t even in the room. With his feelings hurt he made his way to a table in the far end of the room. There he sat and tried to eat his sandwich. He could only manage to take a few bites, then soon learned that he had lost his appetite. He placed the rest of the lunch back into the brown paper bag, got up and as he was leaving tossed the bag into the garbage container.

Faculty members were required to work on campus from eight o’clock in the morning until four PM. At three forty-five PM, Herbert made his way out of his classroom, then the school building he then walked swiftly to the corner of the street knowing that Alberta would arrive there and wait for the trolly to take her home. At four fifteen he saw her approaching, walking slowly using one hand to raise the hem of her skirt in order not to get it soiled from the sidewalk. When she saw him, she stopped. Then, with a bothered look on her face approached him. “Herbert? What are you doing here?”, she asked.

“I need to speak with you.”

“We have nothing to say.”

“Alberta, how can you say such a thing? What has happened? Did I do something wrong? If so please tell me so I can rectify the situation.”

“To tell you the truth Herbert, I don’t know what you did or what you’re doing. I do know that whatever it is it brought the police to my home. They questioned me Herbert. Questioned me about you and us. They seem to know about our meeting at the library and the museums. How could they know that Herbert? How?”

“Very simple. Mr. Jennings told them about us visiting art museums seeking paintings in relation to your Shakespeare lesson plan. He told me right after the detective left the building.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. Besides what we did was innocent.”

“You and I know that, but others may think differently.”

“Then let them.”

“It’s not as easy for a woman Herbert. I have my reputation to protect.”

“And I appreciate that Alberta. Haven’t I always behaved like a gentleman when I’m with you?”

“Yes, still, with the police asking questions about the two of us it places me in a precarious position.”

“How so?”

“You were married at the time. Remember?”

“I’m single now.”

“Please Herbert. Right now I’m very confused. Here comes my trolly. Goodby.”

Late that night Herbert sat alone in the dark living room. Deep in thought, he wondered just what had gone wrong with his relationship with Alberta. “She is not the same. Why? I’ve searched my mind repeatedly in an attempt o find the cause of her indifference. Is it because of the police questioning her? What difference does that make? We’re both adults and as I have reasoned before, nothing out of the ordinary ever took place. She knows that. Then, why has she pushed me away? At one time she told me that we had to wait a year. I disagreed but gave in to her requests. Now, she’s different. Why?”

Chapter Six

Theodore Henderson

Herbert Dingeldine sat on a cot with his back against a brick wall. He stared at a cockroach that attempted to climb the partition across the jail cell only to see it go up approximately three feet then lose it’s footing and fall to the concrete floor. Then, it would try to climb again.

The sound of footsteps caused Herbert to turn his head. Then, he saw the Turnkey who stood unlocking the cell door. “Alright Dingledine, get up. Your lawyers here to see you,” said the Turnkey.

“Lawyer? I don’t have a lawyer. Even if I did I couldn’t pay him. I don’t know what this is all about,” he thought as he walked to the now, open jail cell barred door. He followed the Turnkey down a hallway and as he did he glanced at the cells on both sides of the hall, seeing most of them empty. Others held prisoners, arrested for various crimes. Near the end of the hallway, the jailer stopped and opened the door and said, “Here is your client sir. Just call for me when you’re finished.”

“Thank you, officer,” the man replied.

Herbert stood looking at a tall, handsome, slim man. He judged him to be in his mid-thirties. He was attired in a dark blue suit, white shirt, collar and black tie. The man was clean shaven. “Mister Herbert Dingledine?”

“Yes?”, Herbert answered weakly.

“My names is Theodore Henderson, Attorney At Law. I have been appointed by the court to represent you.”

“I see. Forgive me, but I have no idea why I’m here or even why I was arrested. They’re accusing me of killing my wife. Something that I didn’t do.”

“We’ll discuss that part of your case in just a while. Right now, be advised that I have read the indictment against you. I have requested that you post bail. That request was denied by the court. That means, unfortunately, that you must remain here in the city jail until such time your case is brought up on the judge's calendar.

“Now, let’s get to the facts. I want you to know that anything you tell me is protected under the law as a lawyer, client privilege. So, Herbert, let me warn you. My job is to represent you in court and to convince a jury of twelve men that you are innocent. In order to do that I must know everything. We, you and I can not be subjected to any surprises by the prosecution.

So now, I’ll come right to the point. Did you kill your wife, Ethel Thompson Dingledine?

“No, sir. I did not.”

“Very well. I have not had the time to read and go over the State’s case. I assure you that I will. Once I know what and why they’re accusing you of this crime then and only then can I prepare your defense. Unfortunately, while I’m doing that you must sit and wait here in jail. My only advice to you sir is be confident in the fact that I am working in your best interest. Do you have any questions?”

“No, not at the moment. I’m sure that right after you leave a thousand questions will come to mind,” Herbert replied.

“Well then, try to remember them. It was nice meeting you Herbert,” said Henderson extending his hand in friendship.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you for coming.”

“My pleasure. Turnkey!” Henderson called.

**************

Ten days passed and then Herbert met with his attorney again. Herbert? How are they treating you?’, asked Henderson.

“Fine. I'm used to bathing nightly. Here, I get a shower once a week. The food is bad. Breakfast consists of a hard boiled egg. Dry toast and a cup of black coffee. This morning, my hard boiled egg had no yolk. There’s no such thing as lunch. Supper usually is either beef or lamb stew and very little meat, may I say.”

“Good to know. The next time I come I’ll bring you a sandwich. What would you like?”, asked Henderson.

“Corn-beef would be nice,” Herbert answered.

“On rye, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Now then, I’ve read the state’s case against you. The indictment is that you with Malice a Forethought did willfully and premeditate the death of your wife, by poisoning her with arsenic. At the same time, I read the laboratory reports indicating that the tests conducted on the green, string beans that you prepared and fed to your wife contained traces of arsenic. At trial, the prosecutor will attempt to convince the jury that you deliberately fed your wife contaminated beans knowing full well that arsenic would build up in her body and eventually kill her.”

“How could I possibly know such a thing?’, asked Herbert.

“The State will bring out the fact that you are a biology teacher, knowledgeable in chemistry and chemical results, including poisons,” Henderson explained.

“But, I’m not.”

“I know that the members of the jury don’t. Believe me, they’ll take that information and hold it against you.”

“It’s not right.”

“Neither are the charges against you. Now, I also have a list of witnesses that the State will call to testify on their behalf. I want to know your relationship with each of the witnesses. First is, John Kramer.”

“John? He’s my next door neighbor,” said Herbert.

“Does he like or dislike you?’

“As far as I know, we’re friends. Not bosom buddies, but friendly neighbors.”

“Alright, Next, is The Reverend, Richard Holmes.”

“Father Holmes? He’s my priest. How could he possibly be a witness against me?’, asked Herbert.

“That’s what I’d like to know. Then, there’s Doctor, Francis Pittman.”

“He was the doctor on duty the night that Ethel died.”

Other than treating her what else did he have to do with you?”

“As I recall, he told me that in his opinion Ethel had died of botulism and I seem to recall a brief conversation on green beans and yellow beans.”

“And, this I’m afraid has to be discussed. Alberta Collins.

“Alberta and I started off as colleagues. We both teach at high school. She teaches English. I teach biology. Over a period of time, we soon had a sort of attraction for each other. This grew into, let’s say, a romantic liaison.”

“Were you intimate with her?”

“Sexually? No. As a matter of fact, we did nothing more than her taking my arm when we were out and about.”

“Out and about where?”

“Concerts, museums, art museums mostly.”

“No intimate dinners or meetings?”

“No, Alberta made all the plans for our get together. We never actually dined as I recall.”

“Finally, Detective Sergeant Frank Bernhardt.”

“He is the officer that investigated and arrested me, as far as I know.”

“Alright. Alberta Collins. Let’s go back to her. My question and the question that will be in the mind of the men on the jury is, what was your intentions in dealing with Alberta. For instance, as a man did you plan to seduce her?”

“No, of course not. Alberta is a lady and I a gentleman. I would not and never had any such an idea as seduction.”

“Then, marriage perhaps?”

“Yes. I did propose.”

“Did she accept?”

“Yes and no. She said for us to wait one year. That time would be spent with me mourning the passing of Ethel. At the same time, she would be seen as a dear friend consoling a widower with the two of us falling in love.”

“It appears as though this Alberta is very clever,” said Henderson.

“Really? I’ve always seen her as being intelligent. Not clever.

“Be that as it may. I would like to turn now to the subject of arsenic. Do you? I should say did you have any arsenic in the house?”

“In the house? No.”

“The reason why I ask is that in doing a bit of research I found that such a thing a certain green, flossed wallpaper not only contained the arsenic poison known as Paris green but gives off invisible vapors that are deadly.”

“We do not have flossed wallpaper,” Herbert answered.

“What about sheets of green fly paper?”

“No, none.”

“Alright, now I want you to think and think hard finding a way that traces of arsenic could possible been placed in your canned, green beans.”

“Herbert sat for several minutes deep in thought, then said,

“I’m sorry. I can’t explain how arsenic contaminated the beans.”

“Alright. I want to check the inside of your home and also the garden. I need your keys.”

“My keys, billfold, belt and shoelaces were taken from me. I don’t know where they’re at.”

“I’ll ask for them. If there’s no other way, I’ll force myself in if I have to,” said Henderson.

*******************

Three days later Theodore Henderson walked slowly through Herbert Dingledine’s home. Going room to room he looked carefully for anything or any signs of Paris green. Finding none he then went through the pantry into the laundry room and finding himself at the back door, unlocked it and stepped outside. He looked briefly at the now brown and dry remains of a vegetable garden. Then, stopping at the shed, unlocked the padlock, removed it and stepped inside. There he found tools, cans of paint, and garden tools. On a shelf attached to a wall he saw a small bag of rock salt and after looking closely he found no signs of Paris green. “ Of course not. The police took it as evidence,” he thought.

After securing the shed again he walked through the backyard. Reaching the back door he entered, closed the door behind him and wiped his feet on the small throw rug on the floor. He started for the pantry. Then, he stopped. “The rug? Of course. Anyone walking through the garden in particular or the backyard would come in contact with the Paris green put down by Herbert. Entering the house they would naturally and normally wipe their feet on the rug. Therefore, if I’m right, the rug has to have Paris green residue,” he thought to himself.

With a smile on his face, Henderson made his way to the bedroom. There in the closet were the dresses and skirts worn by Ethel Dingledine. Henderson removed a blanket from the bed then collected the woman’s clothing wrapping them in the blanket. Next, he took a clean sheet went to the back door, picked up the throw rug and like the clothing wrapped the rug in the sheet. With two bundles, one in each hand he left the house, locking the door behind him.

It was two days later when Herbert met with Henderson.

“ How are they treating you?’, asked Henderson.

“As if I’m a convicted murderer. Other than that not too bad.”

“Good. I went through your house and shed. I might have found something that is favorable to your case. Right now I need something from you?”, said, Henderson.”

“ Such as?”

“Such as a lock of your hair.”

“My hair? What on earth for?”

“ To see if you, in fact, have arsenic in your system.”

“I can tell you right now, that I don’t. I feel fine.”

“ Good, feeling fine at the moment means nothing. Hold still,” said Henderson approaching with a pair of scissors.

Back at his office Theodore Henderson looked at his private investigator, Maximilian Taylor. “Max, I want you to take these bundles to Axentic Laboratory, across town. Here is a list of the things I want them to look for. Also in this envelope is a hair sample. With that, I want them to look for traces of arsenic.”

“Is that all?’, asked Taylor.

“No, on the way back stop at the high school and interview people that are friendly towards Dingledine and will make good character witnesses. After that go and see Doctors, Paul Wentworth, David Atkins and Harry Brentwood. Those are the doctors that treated Ethel Dingledine at one time or another. I want to know what they treated her for.”

“You know that they’ll claim doctor-patient privilege,” said Taylor.

“Of course. Threaten them with a subpoena. Don’t tell them that I intend to subpoena them anyway.”

“On the way.”, said Taylor picking up the two bundles.

************

With plenty of time to think Herbert sat on his jail cell cot trying to remember things, incidents or events. “ How could poison get into the green beans? When I used the Paris green I always washed my hands thoroughly using Fels-Naptha soap. At the same time all of the vegetables that I picked I washed. There’s no way Paris green could be on or in the string beans.

Unless, unless I was negligent. Could I have been so at a time when arguing with Ethel, which was most of the time?” Possibly, but even then I’m sure I washed the beans correctly. Wait, negligent? Accidental? The only accident I can recall in relation to green beans is coming in through the back door with a basket full, then tripping and spilling them on the floor and rug. Still, I picked them up and washed them. I must tell Henderson about that, not that it matters. I did wash the beans.”

Then as the hours and days passed by Herbert began to become despondent. One day, alone in his cell he began to reflect back on his life and his problem. “ Me. Why me? What have I ever done to deserve this? I’m being treated like an animal, a caged animal. I am no killer, no murderer. I am innocent. I never planned to kill Ethel. I had nothing to do with her death. Yet, here I sit accused. My life in itself was nothing to brag about. Sure I had a job, no, a profession that I enjoyed, even though the pay was insufficient, Still, for someone who worked only one hundred and sixty days a year it was enough, I suppose. At the same time, I see many others that I know wealthy and secure. They take a vacation to the seashore in summer, send their children to summer camps. They buy season tickets for the opera and orchestra season. I can’t even afford a phonograph. The good book does say, that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a wealthy man to enter heaven. In my opinion, a poor man gets a needle in the eye,” he thought.

Three weeks later Theodore Henderson sat at his desk reading the results of the test performed by Axenic Laboratory. He smiled, then reached for the telephone on his desk. “Operator?” said a female voice.

“Number five nine two,” said Henderson.

“One moment please.”

After a ring, a female voice came on the line. “Hello?”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Teddy, oh. it’s been a while. How are you?”

“Fine. Listen, Diane. I need a favor.”

“And?”

“I might need you to testify as an expert witness in a case I’ll be defending in court.”

“About what?”

“Women’s fashion.”

“I see. Well, I am a designer, so I suppose I fit the category. Still, I wouldn’t call myself an expert.”

“As I recall, you are expert in several things.”

“Teddy, you are a devil. Tell you what. I’ll be your witness, for a price of course.”

“Name it.’

“Dinner.”

“Before or after you testify?”

“Both.”

“Are you free tomorrow evening?”

“Darling, nothing’s free. However, I’ll see that I have no other engagements.

“Fine any particular place you would like to dine?”

“The Valley Green Inn. This time of the year they might light the fireplace. I want to be near the fire.’

“I’ll see what I can do. Personally, I think you’re hot enough.’

“You rascal you. Call for me at seven.”

“It’s a date.”

Chapter Seven

The Prosecution

At ten AM, Monday morning, January 14, 1901, Herbert Dingeldine sat next to his lawyer, Theodore Henderson. Behind him were two, armed guards. Dressed in a suit, with shirt, collar and tie Herbert had the appearance of exactly what he was, a small frail man who was a school teacher. This was the impression Henderson wanted to make when the men on the jury first saw his client. As a result, it was no surprise that as the twelve men selected to be the jury entered the courtroom each one took a long, serious look at Herbert.

“ I feel as though I’m sitting here naked,” said Herbert to Henderson.

“Get used to it. Edsel Sawyer will not only try to disrobe you in front of the jury but flay you alive,” Henderson answered.

“ALL RISE!”, came the words, loud and clear from the bailiff.

Herbert stood. His legs were weak, his mouth dry. He was frightened, intimidated by the size of the courtroom and the fact that he was about to go on trial. The result could be his death.

“HEAR YE! HEAR YE! COURT IS NOW IN SESSION! HIS HONOR THE JUDGE, PHINIOS FLOWERS PRESIDING!”

Herbert watched as the judge stepped up to the bench, took his seat and after picking up the gavel, struck the wooden block and said, “You may be seated.” The judge looked down at the papers that had been set before him, turned one or two pages then turned to the jury and said, “It is my duty to instruct both the jury and those in attendance that I will at no time allow any interference in these proceedings. Any outburst, cries or any like sounds made by anyone that interferes with due process allowed to the defendant will be considered by the court as contempt of court. Now, gentlemen of the jury. You have been selected to hear and evaluate all evidence presented by the Prosecutor, Mister, Edsel Sawyer, representing the State of Pennsylvania,

in the County of Philadelphia. At present, he sits at the table to the right. At the other table located to the left sits the defendant, one Herbert Dingledine along with his attorney, one Theodore Henderson. Each counselor at law will address you with their opening remarks. Mister Sawyer will tell you exactly why the State of Pennsylvania has preferred criminal charges against Mister Dingledine. When Mister Sawyer is finished Mister Henderson will address you, informing you exactly why the State of Pennsylvania is wrong. You, the members of the jury will then after hearing, seeing and evaluating all evidence produced at this trial, will be asked to render a verdict. Most important, and I can not emphasize it enough is the fact that at this time, the defendant, Herbert Dingledine is to be considered innocent until proven guilty. Now, if there are no questions. Mister Sawyer you may give your opening remarks.”

Edsel Sawyer stood and said, “Thank you, your honor. Gentlemen of the jury. First, I would like to thank you for doing your civic duty in serving on this panel. The judge has told you what he expects you to do in this trial. I now will give you the information on just why, the State of Pennsylvania has indicted the defendant, Herbert Dingledine for the premeditated murder of his wife, one Ethel Thompson Dingledine. I, make that we, we will offer evidence, evidence from experts on such things as chemical analysis, statements made by the defendant to witnesses, people who are now witnesses for the state. We will also show motive for the defendant's actions. When you have heard all such evidence and the testimony of witnesses I will address you once again. I will ask you to render a verdict of guilty of murder in the first, degree. Thank you.”

Judge Flowers said, “Mister Henderson.”

Theodore Henderson stood and walked slowly to the jury box. Once in front of the jury he said, “Good morning. Now, let’s face it, other than his honor, mister Sawyer and myself who has to be here, none of you are too happy about being away from your places of employment, home or family. Unfortunately, the legal system in the United States requires that any defendant has the right to be judged by his peers. You then are Mister Dingeldine’s peers.` Mistakes are made every day by every one of us. Your mistake might have been opening the mail and finding that you have been selected for jury duty. Be that as it may, I will show during these proceedings that mistakes were made by the State, their analysis of evidence the testimony of their witnesses and the weak interpretation of the law. Thank you.”

Judge Flowers said, “Mister Sawyer you may proceed.”

“Thank you, your honor. The State of Pennsylvania calls Doctor Francis Pittman.”

Herbert watched as the doctor took the stand, raised his right hand and was sworn, to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth.

Sawyer, standing a few feet from the doctor asked, “Doctor, do you recognize the defendant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would you please say his name.”

“I know him as Herbert Dingledine.’

“Have you seen the defendant before today?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where?”

“At the hospital, where I was on duty.”

“Under what circumstances?”

“We had admitted his wife to the emergency room.”

“Emergency, you say. What was the emergency?

“ The patient appeared to be suffering from poison.”

“OBJECTION, CONJECTURE., “ said Henderson loudly.

“Sustained. Doctor you may not use the word appeared or seemed to be,” said Judge Flowers.

“Allow me to ask you then, did you as the attending physician make a diagnosis of the victim, Ethel Dingledine?”,asked Sawyer.

“I did.”

“And what was your decision?”

“Originally, that the patient had died caused by botulism.”

“You use the word, originally, did you have an afterthought?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“I would say, about ten days or two weeks later.”

“Why?” “I had the hospital pathology department run tests on

the stomach contents of the patient. They informed me that they found traces of arsenic on and in the partly digested green beans the patient had consumed at supper.”

“Did you inform the defendant of these findings?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I had told Mister Dingledine that I intended to conduct tests. After that I waited for him to contact me. He never did.”

“I see. Who did you contact, doctor?”

“The Philadelphia Police Department.”

“I see. Thank you doctor. No further questions your honor.”

“Mister Henderson, you may cross examine.”

“Thank you, your honor. Doctor Pittman would you tell the court the appearance and demeanor of my client on the night in question?

“Here appeared to have pulled his trousers and suit coat over his nightshirt. His demeanor I would say was that of a worried man.”

“When you say worried. Could it be that he was worried for his wife?”

“Possibly”

“Objection. The witness can not possibly know exactly what caused the defendant to worry if in fact he did at all.” said Sawyer.

“Sustained.”

"You said that you had the pathology department at the hospital conduct test on the stomach contents of Ethel Dingledine. Did they also test her blood?"

"No sir."

“No further questions,” said Henderson.

“Mister Sawyer,” said the judge.

“The State calls one Mildred Kramer.”

“Henderson looked at the list of witnesses and did not see the name, Mildred Kramer. Permission to approach the bench.” he said.

“Granted”, the judge replied.

Both attorney’s then stood before Judge flowers. “I fail to find the name of Mildred Kramer on my list of witnesses. Under the rules of discovery I am entitled to an accurate list of evidence and witnesses, “ said Henderson.

“Your honor. This is merely an oversight. I intend to show the mental state of the victim prior to her demise, nothing more,” said Sawyer.

“I object,” said Henderson.

“Overruled. I’ll allow her to testify then decide on the validity of her testimony. Let’s proceed,” said Flowers.

After walking back to their respected tables, Edsel Sawyer said, “The State calls, Mildred Kramer.”

Herbert leaned over and whispered in Henderson’s ear.

Mildred took the oath then sat down. “Mrs. Kramer do you know the defendant, Herbert Dingledine?,” asked Sawyer.

“Yes sir.”

“How so?”

“He is my next door neighbor.”

“And how long has he been your neighbor?”

“I’d say eight or nine years.”

“And, do you or did you know Ethel Dingledine?”

“Yes sir.”

“For about the same amount of time?”

“Yes sir.”

“ Then may I assume that the two of you held conversations with each other?”

“Rarely, Ethel was practically a recluse.”

“But you did talk once in awhile.”

“Yes.”

“ Would you tell the court words said to you be Ethel Dingldine sometime last fall.”

“Yes sir. I was hanging wash on the clothesline when I happened to see Ethel standing in her backyard. I asked her how she was.”

“And, what was her answer?”

“She said, Herbert is trying to kill me, or words to that effect.”

“Thank you. No further questions.

“Mister Henderson,” said the judge.

“Mrs. Kramer. Do you remember the statement you gave to members of the Philadelphia Police Department?,” asked Henderson.

“Yes.”

“What you actually said on the day you spoke with Ethel Dingledine was that Ethel said to you, Herbert wants me dead. Do you recall her saying that to you?”

“Yes.’

“Not Herbert is trying to kill me?”

“No.”

“Now then on that particular day, did you or did you not tell Herbert Dingledine about what Ethel had to say to you?”

“Yes.”

“What else did you say?”

“As I recall, I said I believe that Ethel is crazy, or words to that effect.”

“Thank you. No further questions.

“The court will recess for thirty minutes,” said the judge.

Henderson placed his hand on Herbert’s shoulder and said,

“ Things are going well. Go with the guards they’ll bring you back when it’s time.”

Forty minutes later the judge called the court into session.

“Mister Sawyer,” said Judge Flowers.

“Thank you your honor. The State calls John Kramer.”

After Kramer being sworn and seated Sawyer began his questioning. “Mister Kramer, the court and jury has heard the testimony of your wife, Mildred. As a result there is no need to go over the same questions as to how long you have known the suspect and so on. Instead sir I want you to remember a certain conversation you had with the defendant on a particular day. Do you recall a conversation?”

“Yes sir, I do. It was on a Sunday afternoon,” said Kramer.

“And, what was said?”

“Herbert said that he had to dig beets for his wife’s supper because she wouldn’t eat green beans.”

“Were those his exact words?”

“No, now that you mention it, I believe he used the word insist. He said and I remember that he said, My wife insists that she wants beets. I insisted that she eat the green beans,” said John Kramer.

“No further questions,” said Sawyer.

“Mister Henderson,” said the judge.

“Mister Kramer, what else do you recall about that day?,”

asked Henderson.

“Nothing in particular,”

“What day of the week was it?”

“As I recall, it was a Sunday.”

“Sunday you say. Knowing Herbert Dingledine as you do, would you consider him to be a Pius man?”

“I wouldn’t say Pius. I know he went to church on Sundays.”

“How do you know that?”

“I see him leave the house every Sunday on his way to church.”

“And, how is he dressed?

“Always a suit, clean shirt and collar and of course his hat. On Sundays he sometimes wears a fedora.”

“Now, on that particular Sunday, did you find anything strange or unusual?”

“Yes, Herbert seldom worked in his garden on Sundays. As I recall I questioned him as to why he was working in his garden on the Sabbath.”

“And, what was his reply?”

“What I have already said, he had to dig beets for his wife’s supper.”

“Was he agitated?”

“I would say so.”

“No further questions,” said Henderson.

“Mister Sawyer,” said Flowers.

“Permission to redirect, your honor,” said Sawyer.

“Without objection’, said the judge.

“Hearing no objection Sawyer asked, “What else do you remember about that conversation?”

“Basically, I recall knowing that Herbert and his wife had argued that I said, women you can’t live with them and you can’t live without them.”

“And what was Mister Dingledine’s reply?”

“Something like, I’d rather live without them and the sooner the better.”

“Do you recall any similar conversations?”

“Yes.”

“Please, tell the court.”

“I recall seeing Herbert in his backyard. I asked him what he was doing and he said putting down poison. I asked him why and he said, “There’s never too much for Ethel.”

“Objection, counsel is leading the witness. I ask that his testimony be stricken from the record,” said Henderson.

“On what basis?’, asked the judge.

“The fact that the State willfully and knowingly directed the witness to the State’s desired answer.”

“Overruled. Counsel should know that a leading question is permissible on cross examination,” ruled Judge Flowers.

“No further questions, your honor,” said Sawyer. “Call Alberta Collins,” said Sawyer.

Herbert watched as Alberta walked to the witness stand.

She was attired in a light, blue suit. White blouse with a lace collar. On her head was a black hat with a blue feather. Instead of wearing her hair tied back in a bun she allowed it to flow down upon her shoulders revealing her curls. She took the oath and was seated.

“Good morning Miss Collins. It is a bit late in the day, but still morning. Now, I have several questions to ask you pertaining to your knowledge of the defendant, Herbert Dingledine. “Do you know such a man?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you see him here in court?”

“Yes sir.”

“Would you point to him please.”

“There, sitting at that table. That is Herbert Dingledine,” said Alberta pointing to Herbert.

“Let the record show that the witness has identified one, Herbert Dingledine, defendant. Now then, my next question Miss

Collins is, how do you know the defendant?”

“We are both teachers at the high school.”

“I see. Could you describe your relationship?”

“Yes, in a word, platonic.”

“I see, with platonic you mean without passion.”

“I do.”

“On your part or on the part of Herbert Dingledine?”

“My part.”

“I see. And Mister Dingledine?”

“I can only assume that he viewed our relationship differently.”

“How so?”

“He went out of his way to be near me. Many times he asked me to join him in such things as dinner dates, theater, concerts, art museums, things like that.”

“Did he ever mention his wife, Ethel to you?”

“Yes.”

“In what way?”

“As I recall there were times when his wife’s health was mentioned, but I can’t recall exactly when or what was said.”

“But, he did tell you that he was married?”

“Oh yes.”

“ Then, over time how was his demeanor towards you?”

“I would say that he became something of a stalker.’

“A stalker you say? How so?”

“I enjoy touring our local museums, art museums mostly. I began noticing that no matter where I went Herbert was always there bidding for my attention.”

“Allow me to move ahead a bit Miss Collins. After the death of his wife, what was mister Dingledine’s attitude towards you?”

“I believe that he changed from being a stalker to wanting to be suitor.”

“A suitor. Did he propose marriage?”

“Yes.”

“I take it then that you turned him down?”

“Yes.”

“No further questions,” said Sawyer.

“Mister Henderson?”, asked the judge.

“No questions at this time your honor, but I reserve the right to cross examine at another time.” said Henderson.

“So be it. All witnesses will return to this court tomorrow,” Flowers replied.

Chapter Eight

The Defense

The next morning, Tuesday, January 15, 1901 court convened. “Mister Henderson?”. Asked Judge Flowers.

“Thank you your honor. The defense calls Alberta Collins.”

Alberta entered the court room. This day she was attired in a dark, maroon colored suit, white blouse and on her head was a black straw hat with two red feathers. Judge Flowers looked at her and said, “Miss Collins the court considers you sworn. You may be seated. Counselor?”

Henderson walked from his assigned table and to where Alberta sat. “Good morning, Miss Collins,” he said.

“Good morning,” she replied.

“Now, forgive me, but as a bachelor, I’ve always had a curiosity of just how long it takes a lady to do her hair. For example, you and with your permission, you do have lovely, curls that seem to just flow down from your head and face to your shoulders. Could you tell me how much time you give to doing your hair?”

“Objection, immaterial,” said Sawyer.

“Your honor, if I may, I will introduce through cross examination the fact that the witness has been coached and told to dress and prepare to testify in a manner other then her normal self.”

“Overruled,”

“Thank you, your honor. Miss Collins, answer my question please, Henderson said.

“Actually I spend perhaps thirty minutes before going to bed brushing and combing my hair. In the morning, naturally I comb and brush again. I do nothing particularly special.”

“You are a teacher of English at the high school?”

“That’s correct.

“In the classroom do you wear your hair just as it is styled at the moment?”

“No, I wear it combed back and then in a bun.?”

“A bun. Interesting. The question I’m having is which is the real Alberta Collins? Are you the prim and proper teacher or the sweet little young woman who reminds the gentlemen on the jury of their daughters and granddaughters?”

“Objection,”said Sawyer.

“I withdraw my question your honor.”

“Very well. Be careful in the future Mr. Henderson. The jury will disregard counsel’s question and the witness answer,” said the judge.

“Do you like music?”, asked Henderson.

“Yes.”

“Did you or did you not attend the opening concert of the Philadelphia Orchestra on the evening of Friday, November 16, 1900?”

“I did.”

“With who?”

“Herbert Dingledine.”

“Now, how did that come to be? Surely you knew at the time that Mr. Dingledine was a married man.”

“I did. However, at the same time I invited him out of friendship and at the same time I was chaperoned.”

“Chaperoned, you say?”

“Yes”.

“By whom?”

“My cousin, Andrew Cummings.”

“How convenient. Was he also your chaperone on the days you met Herbert Dingedine at the City Library, the Franklin Institute, the Philadelphia Museum of Fine Art or the Philadelphia Museum of Art?”

“No. That was different.

“Different how?”

“At the time of the concert it was in the evening. At the library and museums it was broad daylight. I was out and about with people who could vouch for my reputation.”

“Still, you were with a married man.”

“Yes, but a fellow educator. One who was assisting me with a school project.”

“What sort of project?”

“I intended to teach a course on Shakespeare. Associating fine artwork with his plays.”

“I see. Do your students enjoy the course?”

“No. I haven’t done it yet.”

“You haven’t done it yet. Could you tell the court just how many times you met Mr. Dingledine at the City Library and then left the library to tour the mentioned museums?”

“I have no idea.”

“No idea you say? Who, may I ask, had the idea to meet on Saturdays and may I add the Saturdays that you picked and chose and start those Saturdays at the City Library?”

“I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember. Let me refresh your memory. It was you Miss Collins. You made the plans, all of the plans.` you planned the concert evening and all of those Saturdays, pulling Herbert Dingledine deeper and deeper in a situation that you not only created, but enjoyed. You liked to control him, have him do what you wanted him to do.”

“That’s not true.”

“ Isn’t it true that on each working school day you and Mr. Dingledine share the same table in the faculty lunch room?”

“Yes.”

“Did Herbert Dingledine propose or suggest that the two of you marry after the death of his wife?”

“Yes.”

“What was your answer?”

“Naturally I refused.”

“You refused. Did you not say that the two of you should wait until a year. That way it would appear that there had been nothing between the two of you prior to the death of Edith Dingledine?”

“No.”

“Miss Collins, allow me to remind you that you are under oath. Perjury is a severe crime. Your honor I have no further questions and may I add, no use for this witness.”

“You are excused Miss Collins. You may step down. Mr. Henderson you may call your next witness,” said Flowers.

“Thank you your honor. The defense calls, Doctor Philip Brentwood.”

Doctor Brentwood, a short, rotund man with a red face took the oath and was seated. Henderson went to him and said, “Doctor I’ll be brief. Did you as a physician treat the deceased, one Ethel Dingedine at any time during your practice?”

“Yes I did.”

“Now, at any time did you find any abnormalities regarding her medical condition?

“No, none whatsoever.”

“Would you say that she was a hypochondriac?”

“I would say that many of her ills were imaginary.”

“Thank you doctor. No further questions.”

“Mr. Sawyer?’, asked Judge Flowers.

“No questions your honor.”

“You may continue, Mr. Henderson.

“The defense calls Wilbur Shilling,” said Henderson.

Wilbur Shilling walked slowly to the witness stand. He appeared to be shy, intimidated by the fact that he was going to be under oath and afraid of making any mistakes in his testimony. He was sworn and took his seat.

“Good morning Mister Shilling. Please tell the court your place of employment and position sir,” said Henderson.

“I am employed as an analytical chemist at Axentic Laboratory here in Philadelphia,” said Shilling.

“By analytical, does that mean being about to determine the make up of things such as ingredients in animal or plant life as well as inorganic matter?”

“Generally speaking, yes.”

Henderson walked over to the evidence table and pointed to two bundles. One wrapped in a blanket the other in a white bed sheet. Pointing to them he said, “I now direct your attention to what the court refers to as exhibit A 1001 and B 1002 do you recognize these items sir?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“They were presented to our laboratory with a request to analyze any and all chemical ingredients that might be found in the items.”

“What were the items?”

“A, gray, throw rug and several women’s skirts and dresses.”

“And, what were your findings?”

“Both the rug and the skirts and dresses contained substantial amounts of arsenic.”

“Arsenic you say. Are you sure?”, asked Henderson.

“Sir, I’m positive.”

“What else did you examine?”

“A specimen of human hair belonging to reportedly one, Herbert Dingledine.”

“And what was your conclusion following that test?”

“That Mister Dingledine has been exposed to and has acquired arsenic which is now in his system.”

“Thank you Mr. Shilling. Your witness,” said Henderson

“Mr. Shilling, isn’t it rare that one might acquire arsenic, by inhaling dust containing the poison?”, asked Sawyer.

“Yes sir.”

“No further questions. questions.”

“Thank you Mr. Shilling, you are excused.’ said Flowers.

“The defense calls, Miss Diane Beck,” said Henderson.

All eyes in the court room followed Diane Beck as she walked slowly through the room to the witness stand. She was dressed in a pastel, afternoon dress, and a wide, hat to match. Since it was winter, she carried a fur coat on her arm. She took the oath and sat down. Henderson approached her.

“Good morning, Miss Beck,” he said.

“Mister Henderson,” she replied.

“Please tell the court, your present position.”

“I am a fashion designer of women’s wear.”

“Then I can assume that you are successful.”

“My designs are in the most fashionable boutiques in Boston, New York and here in Philadelphia.”

“Pardon me if I appear ignorant, but I have no concept of women’s fashion. What dictates it?”

“Two things. The morals of society and Paris, France.”

“Really? Could you explain what morals have to do with fashion?”

“Certainly. Currently, the morals of our society require that the length of a woman’s skirt must cover her foot. If not her foot at most, her ankle.”

“I see. Is there a problem with that?”

“Yes, what society fails to realize is that women with the required hem length then are susceptible to collecting dust, dirt and germs as they walk the sidewalks of cities. For instance, tobacco sputum on sidewalks an in the street could possible be carrying the causes for tuberculosis or other diseases. The woman collects these germs and transports them to her home where upon it is possible that sickness occurs as a result.”

“Objection. The witness has no background or experience as a health worker. Her testimony is conjecture,” said Sawyer.

“Sustained. The statements made by the witness will be stricken,” said Flowers.

“Allow me to rephrase my question Miss Beck. Does the hem length of a woman’s dress or skirt present a hazard of any kind in your opinion?”

“The greatest hazard is tripping, stepping on or catching the hem on a foreign object.”

“I see. Now you mention Paris. What does Paris France have to do with hem length, diseases, Paris shortening the hem length etc.?”

“The fashion designers of Paris see the need to raise the hemline in women’s fashions for the reasons I have previously attested to. It is rumored that the new, future Paris creations will raise the hemline by two inches.”

“So, in your opinion, as a professional designer of women’s fashion would the raising of the hemline by two inches allow the skirt or dress of a woman to pass over sidewalks, lawns and in particular rugs without touching them?”

“In my opinion, yes.”

“Thank you Miss Beck. No further questions,” said Henderson.

“Mr. Sawyer, cross?”

“No questions your honor.”

“Mr. Henderson.”

“Call Doctor Frederick Lentel,” said Henderson.

“The people in the courtroom, including the members of the jury watched as a man of medium height and weight walked towards the witness stand. The man was immaculately dressed wearing a black suit, white shirt, collar, tie and gray colored spats covered his shoes. Henderson waited until the man was sworn and seated. He then said, “Good day Doctor Lentel.”

“Good day sir,”Lentel replied.

“For the record please inform the court of your profession and current employment.”

“I am am professor of pharmacology at the University Of Pennsylvania.”

“I see and would you define, pharmacology please.”

“Pharmacology is a branch of medicine and biology that is concerned with drug action. More specifically, it is the study of interactions that occur between a living organism and chemicals that affect normal or abnormal biochemical function.”

“I see, and what are the uses today of arsenic, Doctor?” asked Henderson.

“Primarily, it is used in what is called Fowlers solution which is used for the treatment of psoriasis. Other uses in the past have been the treatment for syphilis.”

“Any other uses, Doctor?”

“It is used as a pesticide.”

“A pesticide, you say. Now then, can arsenic dust such as that contained in the product, Paris green by absorbed by humans?”

“Certainly, either by ingesting or inhaling it.”

“In your profession career are you familiar of this happening to victims of arsenic poisoning?”

“Yes. Originally Paris green was manufactured as a green pigment in paint and dyes. Flossed, green wallpaper and women’s apparel were dyed with the product. It was later found that fumes or vapors cast off of both caused the inhalation of arsenic thus creating, poisoning. This is caused by the degradation caused by moisture and mold which then produces arsine. Arsine is a lethal, toxic gas.”

“I see. Then, is it possible that Paris green dust collected on the hem of a woman’s skirt and stored indoors, say in a closet result in the same manner as the dyed wallpaper?”. Asked Henderson.

Doctor Lentel took his time in answering, then said, “I find it conceivable, under certain conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“Moisture and mold.”

“Thank you Doctor. No further questions,” said Henderson.

“Mr. Sawyer you may cross,” said Judge Flowers.

“Doctor Lentel, isn’t it also true that Paris green can be ingested, say by placing it in a jar of string beans?,” asked Sawyer.

“Certainly,”said Lentel.

“No further questions,” Sawyer replied.

“You are excused Doctor,” said Flowers.

“The court will be in recess for thirty minutes,” said the judge as he banged his gavel.

“All rise,” called the bailiff .

Henderson turned to Herbert and said. “Right now things are looking good. The chemist and Doctor Lentel made an impression with the jury. that’s the good news. The bad news is Alberta. She came across as the victim of unwanted advances from a married man. Sawyer will use that as your motive to kill Ethel. We’re not out of the woods yet. Now, don’t worry. Let me do the worrying. Go with the guards and relax.”

When court reconveined Henderson stood and said, "Call Sergent Frank Bernhardt."

Frank Bernhardt walked slowly to the witness stand, in his hand he carried his derby. He stood raised his hand and was sworn in as a witness.

"Sergeant please tell the court just how long you have been a member of the Philadelphia Police Department," said Henderson.

"Fifteen years."

"Were you assigned during that time to investigate the death of one, ethel Thompson Dingledine?"

"Yes sir."

"And during that time during your investigation did you request labortory test and analysis of products taken from mister Dingledine's home?"

"I did."

"I show you now a copy of the police report submitted by you to be added to the case file pertaining to the case of Ethel Thompson Dingledine. Is this in fact your report?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Please read the report to the court."

Bernhardt held the paper in two hands, lowered his head and read aloud, "analysis of blood, hair and blood samples taken from the deceaased, Ethel Thompson Dingledine, submitted examined and tested produced the following: All samples tested revealed large amount of arsenic containing copper. It is possible that the subject, Ethel Thmpson Dingledine ingested low amounts of arsenic over a period of time, resulting in her eventual death."

"Thank you Sergeant. no further questions."

"Mister Sawyer?, asked Flowers.

"No questions your honor.

Chapter Nine

Closing Arguments

On Monday, January 28, 1901 at ten o’clock AM court convened. Judge Flowers looked down from the bench and said, “Mister Sawyer, you may proceed.”

“Thank you your honor, the State rests.” said Sawyer.

“Very well. Mister Henderson?”, asked Flowers.

“The Defense also rests your honor,” said Henderson.

“Very well. I assume that both council are prepared to close?”

“Yes sir,” said Sawyer.

“Yes’, said Henderson.

“Very well, Mister Sawyer, you may proceed.

“Thank you, your honor,” said Sawyer as he then turned and approached the jury. “Gentlemen of the jury. For the past few weeks and sometimes long days in this courtroom you have sat and listen to the testimony of witnesses. The State of Pennsylvania has produced witnesses, witnesses that have told you that the deceased, Ethel Thompson Dingedine died from arsenic poison. You have heard testimony from one Mildred Kramer that the deceased before her death in a conversation stated that her husband, Herbert Dingledine was and I repeat, was trying to kill her.

Then you heard testimony from one John Kramer who stated under oath that in a conversation with the defendant on a Sunday said, that Herbert Dingledine was visibly upset because he had to dig beets for his wife’s supper because she wouldn’t eat the green beans he wanted to serve her. Also, when it came to putting down the pesticide, later identified as Paris green, an arsenic poison, when asked about it the defendant replied, and I quote, “There’s never enough for Ethel.”

Then there is the night that Ethel Dingledine was rushed to the hospital. There, she was diagnosed originally as suffering from botulism or if you prefer, food poisoning. You heard Doctor Pittman testify that he told the defendant that he intended to conduct further tests to determine the exact cause of death and that Herbert Dingledine could contact him for the results of those tests. The defendant never. I repeat, never lifted a finger to inquire on the results of Doctor Pittmans further examinations. I ask you now. Why? Wouldn’t an innocent man worried about his wife, a wife who died in the hospital follow through with questions, questions of what did she actually die from? Certainly, but the defendant didn’t need to know the results of those test. Why? Because he knew the cause of Ethel Dingldine’s death. The cause was arsenic, arsenic contained in the Paris green pesticide he used in his garden and yard and placed in her green beans.

Now then, you may ask yourself, why? Why would a man in his mid-thirties, a man with a reputation as an excellent teacher of biology at the local high school commit such an act? The answer gentlemen is simple. The excellent teacher, the man who went to church each and every Sunday, the man who worked in his garden was , no make that is, a lecherous, married man pursuing a young, attractive woman. In spite of Alberta Collins

rejecting his advances, he continued to vie for her attention. He proposed marriage. She refused. Still he deliberately placed himself in her company. May I add the fact that this conduct continued until it ended on the day of his arrest.

You have heard statements made about Miss Collins and Mister Dingledine having surreptitious meeting at the City Library and various museums within the city. You have also heard the explanation given by Miss Collins. She, according to her testimony considered her association with the defendant as, I believed she used the word, platonic. Be that as it may, ask yourself this. Would a married man meet with a young, attractive, single woman on Saturdays, continually attending museums, seeing the same things over and over and not get tired or bored? Not if seduction was on his mind gentlemen. Not if seduction is on his mind.

The infatuation the defendant had with Alberta Collins is the motive he needed to want to kill his wife, Ethel Thompson Dingledine. As a result, I submit to you, that after hearing all of the evidence that you must now find the defendant, Herbert Dingledine guilty of pre-meditated murder. Thank you.”

“Mister Henderson?’, Asked Judge Flowers.

Theodore Henderson rose slowly from his chair and then walked to where the jury sat. He looked at them for a time then began to speak. Gentlemen, I want you to look long and hard at the defendant, one Herbert Dingledine. Why? Because anyone of you could become what he is, a defendant accused wrongly of murder. We are not talking about a man facing a violation of a city ordinance, or in fact a misdemeanor. We are talking about a man charged with a capitol crime. One that warrants the death penalty. Herbert Dingledine is and has been a victim of circumstances. I ask you to dwell on the word circumstances, because of all the evidence produced by the State of Pennsylvania has been and is, what is referred to as, Circumstantial Evidence. Circumstantial, not concrete or exact mind you, but evidence that can by anyone with a reasonable mind can be explained away. I will now offer to you those explanations. Let me begin first with the prosecutions claim that Herbert Dingledine deliberately poisoned his wife Ethel with arsenic. All of you heard the testimony of Mister Wilbur Shilling who stated under oath that the rug taken from the floor at the back door of the Dingledine’s home and the dresses of Ethel Dingledine had and still does contain the poison, arsenic. At the same time, Mister Shilling also testified that a sample of Mister Dingledine’s hair examined and tested likewise contained the poison, arsenic. Now, I ask you gentlemen. Would a reasonable man intent on murdering his wife with arsenic deliberately ingest the poison himself? Of course not. The question then presents itself. How did Herbert Dingledine receive and obtain arsenic in his body and what Wilbur Shilling stated, system?”

The answer is quite simple. Herbert Dingledine and may I say at the urging of his wife put down large amounts of the pesticide, Paris green at and near the backdoor of his home. Why?” Because his wife complained of seeing rodents in the backyard.

Now then, we know that the defendant went in and out of the rear door of his home particularly when working in his garden. When he did he did exactly what anyone of us would do. He wiped his feet on the rug inside the back door. On the soles of his shoes was the residue or if you will, dust, Paris green dust, arsenic dust.

We know that Ethel Dingledine at least on one occasion went out the backdoor into her yard to converse with Mildred Kramer. The question then arises, how many other times did she enter And exit the backdoor and/or enter the backyard? No one knows. What we do know is that Wilbur Shilling stated under oath that he discovered the poison, arsenic on the hems of Ethel Dingeldines skirts and dresses. Now, in addition Doctor Frederick Lentel testified that an accumulation of arsenic under the right conditions can break down and form the toxic gas, Arsine. I want you to think gentlemen. Think of the same bedroom you share with your wife. As you lay in bed her dresses, her skirts hanging in the closet near you contain arsenic, arsenic that under he right conditions can be absorbed into your body, your system. That, gentlemen is exactly what happened to Herbert and Ethel Dingledine.

Now, I know what’s on you minds. The beans, the green string beans. How did arsenic get into the mason jar of preserved green beans? With your indulgence I will explain. Mister Dingldine is a confirmed, gardener. He is a man who takes pride in not only growing his vegetables but as with another hobby enjoys cooking and preserving. Near the end of the growing season he went to his garden and picked green beans. It was an ample harvest. He gathered the beans placing them in a basket. He then carried the basket to the rear door of his home, opened the door entered and tripped. When he tripped he dropped the basket of beans which spilled upon the rug on the floor next to the backdoor. That rug gentlemen, as you now know contained arsenic. Therefore, the beans coming in contact with the arsenic resulted in trace elements of the poison adhering to the vegetables. Did Herbert Dingledine wash those beans? Certainly. However, two questions arise. Did he know there was arsenic on the beans and did he wash and rinse them enough? The answer to both is no. The result then was he cooked and canned the beans. At a later date, perhaps months later he served at the request of his wife, green beans. We admit there were traces of arsenic found in the partly digested green beans found in Ethel Dingledine’s stomach. But, I submit to you that those traces found by the hospital pathologist did not result in her death. Instead I offer you this hypothesis. The traces of arsenic in the green beans combined with the amount of arsenic already in Ethel Dingledine’s body came together to create the lethal amount necessary to kill her. In short her death was inevitable, but accidental.

You have heard Mr. Sawyer tell you about motive. He indicted that the motive Herbert Dingledine had for killing his wife was his attraction for one Alberta Collins. Was the defendant infatuated with Miss Collins? Yes, he was, but removing himself from his marriage could be obtained by a simple divorce. There was no need to murder his wife in order to be free to marry Alberta Collins. There is no crime here gentlemen. If there is, then the accused should be Alberta Collins. Why? Because it was she that intentionally loured Herbert Dingeldine into a liaison of her choosing. It was she that began that involvement by inviting him to a concert. It was she that decided on which Saturdays they would meet. It was she that picked the time and places, such as the City Library and the museums and it was she that in after all consideration probably committed perjury on the witness stand while under oath.

Now then, allow me to give you a lesson in the law. In order for a crime to have been committed two essential elements must be present. The first is intent. The second is the act. In the case of Herbert Dingledine there was no intent to kill or murder his wife. At the same time he took no action to do so. So, with the absence of both the intent and the act no crime could possibly be committed under the laws of the State of Pennsylvania. Therefore, I ask you to confer and then render a verdict of, not guilty. Thank you.”

“The jury will now retire, meet and discuss, hopefully reaching a decision and verdict. Court in the meantime will be in recess,” said Judge Flowers.

“What do you think?’, asked Herbert of Henderson.

“To be honest, right now it could go either way. I will tell you this, The longer they deliberate, the better it is for us. Now, go back to the holding area and don’t fret. There’s nothing more that we can do,” Henderson replied.

***************

At noon the next day Edsel Sawyer and Theodore Henderson lunched together at a small restaurant located across from the courthouse. “Well, this is the second day that the jury has been out. I’d have to say that it’s beginning to look mighty good for you Ted,” said Sawyer.

“I want to hear the foreman stand and tell me before I count on it,”Henderson replied.

“Well, whatever the outcome allow me to congratulate you on a fine defense,” said Sawyer.

“Thank you. You are a tough representative for the State.”

“I will say that if you do lose, you’ll know why, won’t you?”

“Yes, Alberta Collins.”

“Absolutely, she stuck it to him,” said Sawyer.

“Same old story. A man loses not only his head over a woman but everything he has in the world, reputation, money, property, friends and for what? A woman who like a cat playing with a mouse finally gets tired of him and kills him. Only this time Alberta’s letting the State of Pennsylvania do the killing,” said Henderson.

A uniformed bailiff entered the restaurant walked up to their table and said, “Gentlemen, the jury is in.”

Both attorney’s got up immediately, left the restaurant and walked quickly to the courthouse.

It took twenty minutes before the court was called to order.

Henderson waited for Herbert to be brought into the room. When he arrived he took a seat in the chair at the table. Once situated, the men of the jury filed into the jury box. Judge Flowers then said, “Mister foreman, have you reached a verdict?”

“We have your honor.”

“Please pass your verdict to the bailiff ."

As this was being done, Herbert sat in silence watching. He saw Judge Flowers receive the piece of paper from the bailiff. Still, he was unable to detect any kind of expression on the judge’s face. Then, the Judge spoke. "The defendant will rise and face the jury. Both Herbert and Henderson stood.

“Mister Foreman. Have you reached a verdict?” judge Flowers asked again.

“We have your honor.”

“And, what is you verdict?”

“We find the defendant, Herbert Dingledine guilty as charged.”

“Say all of you?”, asked Flowers.

“Yes sir.”

“The defendant will now face the bench.”

Herbert turned and watched and listened to the judge. “Herbert Dingledine you have been found guilty of murder in the first degree by a jury of your peers. It is the sentence of this court that you will be transferred to the Eastern State Penitentiary where you will be held until the date of your execution, the punishment of which is hanging by the neck until dead. Do you have anything to say to this court.?”

“Yes sir. I didn’t kill my wife. I’m innocent.”

“May the Lord have mercy upon your soul. Court is adjourned.

“All rise!,” called the bailiff.

“Keep your chin up. I’ll file a motion to appeal,” said Henderson.

Herbert smiled. “Well you know where I’ll be,” he said.

Chapter Ten

Eastern Penitentiary

Herbert Dingledine smiled when he saw Theodore Henderson. “How have you been?” he asked his lawyer.

“Fine Herbert, what about you?”

“Peachy. The guards allowed me to have a deck of playing cards. When I get bored I play solitaire.”

“Good. The reason I’m here is to let you know that I’ve exhausted all appeals. Each court I petitioned during the past year found no cause to overturn your conviction and give us a new trial. I was counting on perjury by Alberta, but the courts didn’t see it my way. In short, a warrant for your execution has been issued by the governor. They intend to hang you on June 13, 1902 said Henderson.”

“Hey, at least you tried. Thank you,” Herbert replied.

“Is there anything you need?”

“Dingledine laughed. “A hacksaw, a hundred feet of rope and a three hour head start. Seriously, there’s nothing I need.”

“Well then, I’ll say good by.”

“Good by friend and you were and are my friend.”

“That’s for sure. That’s for sure,” said Henderson shaking hands and then walking away.

“Ted?.” Herbert called.

Henderson stopped and turned around. “Yes?”

“What day of the week is June the thirteenth?”

“It’s a Friday.”

Herbert laughed. “That figures.”

The early days of June, 1902 went by quickly. Herbert had one more visitor, the Reverend, Holmes. Holmes sat on a stool in Herbert’s cell and said, “ Would you like me to pray with you?”

“No Father. That won’t be necessary. You see, I’m innocent. I did not kill Ethel. I know it and God knows it.I will admit that I wanted her dead, but I didn't kill her. I don’t need prayer or confession. I will not descend into hell after I die. I spent ten years in hell and if anyone should ever ask you about hell, it’s right here on earth. No Father, I’ll walk right through the pearly gates. No one will stop me.”

At ten o’clock in the evening of Friday, June 13, 1902 guards entered Herbert’s cell. They had him stand. When he did he was placed in a straightjacket which then immobilized his arms and hands. He was then led out of his cell.

As he walked along the long hallway he became aware of the sounds of footsteps, his, the wardens and the guards. “ Are these the last sounds I’ll be hearing? How much further do we have to go? Ah, here we are, a door. Now, what? Oh, people, many people. Why? Of course, witnesses. They’re here to see me die.

Whats’ that sound? Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump. It’s my heart beating. Nothing more. Steps, now I have to climb steps. The guards are helping me. Good, it’s difficult to climb steps with your arms secured to your sides. There’s that sound again,thump, thump. My heart beat, telling me I’m still alive. Wait, they're making me stand at a particular place. Must be the trap door. They’re removing my eyeglasses. Now I can’t see, everything is a blur. They’re placing a hood over my head. Now, a noose. They're tightening it, placing a knot behind my ear. A new sound, thumpity, thumpity, thumpity, the heart is beating faster. Wait, I’m falling, falling. CRACK!

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 13.01.2017

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