Chapter TenReinhold Elgar looked impressive. An imposing man whose seamed face and silvery hair belied dignity, purposefulness and told you in no uncertain terms it understood the gravity of its station in life. Behind the gray eyes, however, lay the faintest twinkle and those rounded, determined lips seemed perpetually on the verge of cracking a smile. Elgar knew who he was and what he had to do.
By the time I arrived around eleven-thirty on Thursday morning, the jury had already been selected and Dr. Elgar prepared to hear testimony. The room was uncharacteristically crowded. Not every day that such an event took place in Applewood, but I managed to squeeze in beside Constable Hal Bigelow who attended in his capacity as a witness. Hal looked particularly thoughtful and just raised his e
