Despite Shorty facing lesser charges as an accessory, the Hopkins family had spared no expense on his defense.

They sat prominently, Thomas’s face set in an expression of righteous indignation.

The prosecution was led by Commonwealth attorney Douglas Hail, a stern man in his late 40s with a reputation for aggressive courtroom tactics.

He was assisted by two junior prosecutors.

The defense was led by Marcus Webb, the young attorney from Bristol who had taken Royy’s case.

Webb was only 30 years old with sandy hair and an earnest face.

He lacked Hail’s experience, but he was smart and passionate about defending those who couldn’t defend themselves.

Judge Morrison entered and everyone rose.

The baleiff called out, “All rise.

The circuit court of Wise County is now in session.

The Honorable Judge Harold Morrison presiding.

Be seated, Judge Morrison said, settling into his chair behind the bench.

He surveyed the packed courtroom, his expression grave.

This is a murder trial, he began, his voice carrying to every corner of the room.

We are here to determine the guilt or innocence of the defendant, Roy Roins, in the death of Bertha Anne Hood.

This court will tolerate no outbursts, no disruptions.

Anyone who cannot conduct themselves appropriately will be removed.

Is that understood? A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

Very well, Mr.

Hail.

You may present the Commonwealth’s case.

Douglas Hail rose, buttoning his suit jacket.

He was a commanding presence, tall and broad-shouldered, with a deep voice that resonated with authority.

May it please the court.

he began.

On the evening of November 2nd, 1930, 15-year-old Bertha Anne Hood left her family’s home to attend a church service.

She never arrived.

Her body was discovered later that night, shot through the heart.

She was an innocent girl, a beloved daughter, a faithful member of her church, and a promising student.

Her murder shocked this community and left a family shattered by grief.

Hail paused, letting his words sink in.

The Commonwealth will prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant, Roy Roins, committed this heinous crime.

We will present witnesses who placed the defendant at the scene.

We will show that the defendant had motive, a jealous obsession with the victim, and we will demonstrate that the defendant had means and opportunity to commit this murder.

He gestured toward Roy, who shrank under the weight of so many eyes.

Justice for Bertha Hood demands that her killer be held accountable and that killer is sitting at the defense table.

Hail sat down and Marcus Webb rose for the defense.

Your honor, Webb began, his voice less commanding than Hails, but earnest and sincere.

Roy Roins is a 15-year-old boy.

He is not a monster.

He is not a hardened criminal.

He is a child who made mistakes, who exercised poor judgment, but who did not commit murder.

Webb approached the jury box, making eye contact with each juror.

The Commonwealth’s case is built on speculation and circumstantial evidence.

Yes, Roy knew Bertha Hood.

Yes, he admired her.

But admiration is not murder.

The prosecution would have you believe that because Roy was near the railroad tracks that evening, he must be guilty.

But being in the vicinity of a crime is not the same as committing it.

He returned to the defense table, placing a hand on Royy’s shoulder.

Roy Roins deserves a fair trial based on facts and evidence, not emotion and prejudice.

I ask you to listen carefully to the testimony, to weigh the evidence, and to remember that in this country, a person is innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.

With opening statements complete, the prosecution began calling witnesses.

The first was William Hood.

William took the stand, placing his hand on the Bible and swearing to tell the truth.

He sat stiffly in the witness chair, his large hands gripping the armrests.

“Mr.

Hood, please tell the court about your daughter, Bertha,” Hail said gently.

“Williams voice was steady but strained.

” “Bertha was my only daughter.

She was 15 years old.

She was a good girl.

Went to church every Sunday, helped her mother, did well in school.

She never caused no trouble.

Did Bertha have a relationship with the defendant, Roy Roins? No, sir.

She didn’t want nothing to do with him.

He and another boy, Shorty Hopkins, had been bothering her.

They got into a fight over her just a week before she died.

How did Bertha feel about this attention? She was scared.

She told me she wanted them to leave her alone.

And what did you do? I spoke to both boys fathers.

I told them their sons needed to stay away from my daughter.

Hail nodded.

And yet on the night Bertha died, witnesses saw her with both boys near the railroad tracks.

“Is that correct?” “That’s what I’ve been told,” William said, his voice hardening.

“Thank you, Mr.

Hood.

No further questions.

” Marcus Webb approached for cross-examination, his expression sympathetic.

“Mr.

Hood, I am deeply sorry for your loss,” Webb began.

I can’t imagine the pain you and your family have endured.

William nodded stiffly, saying nothing.

Mr.

Hood, you testified that Bertha didn’t want anything to do with Roy or Shorty, but did she ever actually say that Roy threatened her or harmed her in any way? William hesitated.

She said he made her uncomfortable, but she never said he threatened her.

Not in so many words, no.

Is it possible that Roy simply had a teenage crush on Bertha and didn’t know how to express it appropriately? Objection, Hail said, rising.

Speculation.

Sustained.

Judge Morrison said.

Webb nodded.

No further questions.

The next witness was Martha Hood.

She could barely walk to the witness stand, supported by her sister, Elizabeth.

She wore black and her face was drawn and pale.

Hail questioned her gently about Bertha’s character, her activities that day, and the moment she left the house for church.

She kissed my cheek.

Martha whispered tears streaming down her face.

She said, “I’ll be home by 9:00, mama.

” And I never saw her alive again.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the courtroom.

Even Judge Morrison had to clear his throat and look away momentarily.

Marcus Webb declined to cross-examine Martha Hood.

There was nothing to be gained from questioning a grieving mother, and doing so would only turn the jury against his client.

The prosecution then called Dr.

Thomas Mullins, the coroner, who testified about the autopsy findings.

The victim died from a single gunshot wound to the heart.

Dr.

Mullins explained the bullet entered just above the left breast and penetrated the heart directly.

death would have been almost instantaneous.

Based on the angle of entry, the shooter was standing approximately 5 to 10 ft away at roughly the same height as the victim.

“What caliber weapon was used?” Hail asked.

“Based on the wound and the bullet I extracted, I would say a 32 caliber pistol.

” “And is it true that the defendant owned a 32 caliber pistol?” Objection.

Web rose quickly.

That hasn’t been established in this testimony.

sustained.

Judge Morrison said, “Mr.

Hail, confine your questions to this witness’s expertise.

” Hail nodded.

No further questions.

Webb approached for cross-examination.

Dr.

Mullins, you said the shooter was standing 5 to 10 ft away.

Is that correct? Yes.

Could you determine from the wound whether the shooting was intentional or accidental? Dr.

Mullins paused.

No, the wound itself doesn’t indicate intent, only the trajectory and impact.

So, it’s possible this could have been an accidental discharge of a weapon.

It’s possible.

Yes.

Thank you, doctor.

The next witness was the most damaging.

Billy Thompson.

Billy was 16, tall and gangly with a nervous energy that made him fidget constantly.

He took the stand and was sworn in, his voice shaking as he repeated the oath.

Douglas Hail approached him like a predator.

circling prey.

Knowing this testimony could make or break the case.

Billy, please tell the court what you witnessed on the evening of November 2nd, 1930.

Billy swallowed hard.

I was out hunting rabbits in the woods near the railroad tracks around 6:30 or so.

It was getting dark.

I heard voices arguing, so I stopped to listen.

Whose voices did you hear? Bertha Hood, Roy Roins, and Shorty Hopkins.

You’re certain it was these three individuals? Yes, sir.

I’ve known all of them my whole life.

I recognize their voices.

What were they arguing about? Bertha was upset.

She was telling Roy and Shorty to leave her alone, that she was tired of them fighting over her like she was some kind of prize.

She said she was going to tell her father about them bothering her.

And then what happened? Billy’s voice dropped to barely a whisper.

Roy got angry.

He said something like, “If I can’t have you, nobody can.

” And then I heard a gunshot.

The courtroom erupted in gasps and whispers.

Judge Morrison banged his gavvel.

“Order! I will have order.

” When the room quieted, Hail continued.

“What did you do when you heard the gunshot? I was scared.

I hid behind a tree.

” After a minute, I looked out and saw Roy standing there with a pistol in his hand.

Shorty was backing away with his hands up saying, “What did you do?” over and over and Bertha was on the ground not moving.

“What happened next?” Roy told Shorty that if he told anyone, he’d kill him, too.

Then Roy dragged Bertha’s body off the tracks into the ditch, and both boys ran off in different directions.

“And what did you do?” I stayed hidden until I was sure they were gone.

Then I ran home.

I was too scared to tell anyone.

Why did you finally come forward? Billy’s eyes filled with tears.

I couldn’t sleep.

I kept seeing her face and I knew it was wrong to keep quiet when a girl was murdered.

She deserves justice.

Thank you, Billy.

No further questions.

The courtroom buzzed with conversation.

William Hood sat with his hands clenched into fists, tears streaming down his face.

Across the aisle, Roy Roins had gone deathly pale, shaking his head frantically.

Marcus Webb stood for cross-examination, and every eye in the courtroom was on him.

“Billy,” Webb began, his tone gentle but firm.

“You said you were out hunting rabbits that evening.

” “Yes, sir.

What weapon were you carrying?” “A 22 rifle.

” “Did you fire your weapon at all that evening?” Billy hesitated.

“I I might have.

I don’t really remember.

You don’t remember? Web’s eyebrows rose.

You clearly remember a conversation that took place in the dark from some distance away, but you don’t remember if you fired your own weapon.

I was focused on what was happening with them, Billy said defensively.

Billy, isn’t it true that you were friends with both Roy and Shorty? We all went to school together.

And isn’t it also true that you had asked Bertha Hood to a church social just 2 weeks before her death and she declined? Billy’s face flushed.

That don’t mean nothing, doesn’t it? Web pressed.

Isn’t it possible that you’re the one who was jealous? That you’re blaming Roy to deflect suspicion from yourself.

Objection.

Hail was on his feet.

Council is badgering the witness and making unfounded accusations.

Your honor, Webb said calmly.

I’m merely establishing that this witness had his own potential motive and means.

The Commonwealth can’t have it both ways.

Either multiple people had access and motive, which creates reasonable doubt, or we accept that the evidence is purely circumstantial.

Judge Morrison considered this.

Objection overruled.

The witness will answer.

Billy looked panicked.

I didn’t do nothing.

I’m telling the truth.

Are you? Web asked.

or are you telling a version of events that conveniently makes you the innocent bystander while placing all blame on my client? I saw what I saw, Billy insisted.

In the dark, from a distance, while hiding behind a tree, Webb said, his voice dripping with skepticism.

“Tell me, Billy, how far away were you from where this allegedly happened?” “I don’t know, maybe 30, 40 ft.

” And it was dark.

Getting dark.

Yeah.

And you were hiding? Yes.

So your view was partially obstructed.

I could see well enough.

Could you? Webb turned to the jury.

Ladies and gentlemen, this witness expects you to believe that in fading light from 40 ft away while hiding behind a tree, he could not only see exactly what happened, but could also hear a conversation clearly enough to quote specific words.

Does that seem credible to you? Objection, Hail said.

Argumentative, sustained.

Mr.

Webb, please confine yourself to questions.

Webb nodded.

Billy, did you tell anyone what you allegedly saw that night? No, I was scared.

Not your parents, not the sheriff, not anyone? No.

And you waited more than 2 months to come forward? Like I said, I was scared.

or Webb suggested, “You waited until you heard that Roy and Shorty had been arrested and you realized you could insert yourself into the investigation by claiming to be an eyewitness.

” That’s not true.

Isn’t it true that you were failing in school and facing disciplinary action for fighting? What’s that got to do with anything? Isn’t it true that by becoming a witness in this high-profile case, you suddenly became important? You went from being a troubled kid to being the person everyone wanted to talk to.

Billy’s face was red, his hands trembling.

I’m telling the truth.

Roy Roins killed Bertha Hood and I saw it.

No further questions, Webb said, returning to his seat.

The damage had been done.

Billy’s credibility had been shaken, though whether it was enough to create reasonable doubt remained to be seen.

The prosecution called several more witnesses, neighbors who testified about Royy’s obsession with Bertha, the woman who had heard the gunshot, and various character witnesses who spoke to Bertha’s reputation.

Finally, on the third day of the trial, the prosecution rested its case.

Now it was the defense’s turn.

Marcus Webb called Roy Roins to the stand.

The courtroom went silent as Roy walked slowly to the witness chair.

He looked even younger than his 15 years, thin and pale, his hands shaking as he placed them on the Bible to be sworn in.

Webb approached his client, his expression encouraging.

“Roy, did you kill Bertha Hood?” “No, sir,” Roy said, his voice barely audible.

“I didn’t.

Please speak up so the jury can hear you,” Judge Morrison instructed.

Roy cleared his throat.

“I didn’t kill her.

I swear on my mother’s grave I didn’t do it.

Roy tell the jury what happened on the evening of November 2nd.

Roy took a shaky breath.

I was walking near the railroad tracks.

I’d been hunting earlier and was heading home.

I saw Bertha walking toward the church carrying a lantern.

I called out to her, asked if I could walk with her.

What did she say? She said no.

She said she wanted to be left alone.

She was She was angry.

She said she was tired of me and Shorty bothering her.

What did you do? I said I was sorry.

I told her I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable, that I just liked her and wanted to be friends, but she told me to leave her alone, so I did.

You left? Yes, sir.

I turned around and went home.

Was Shorty Hopkins there? Roy hesitated, glancing across the courtroom at Shorty.

He came out of the woods while I was talking to Bertha.

He’d been following her.

What happened when Shorty appeared? Bertha got even more upset.

She started yelling at both of us.

And Shorty and I started arguing with each other.

He said I should leave her alone.

And I said he should mind his own business.

And then and then I left.

I walked away.

When I left, Bertha was alive.

She was standing there yelling at Shorty.

Did you have a weapon with you? I had my .

22 rifle from hunting, but I didn’t have no pistol.

The prosecution claims you owned a 32 caliber pistol.

Is that true? Roy looked down.

I did own one.

My uncle gave it to me for my birthday last year, but I lost it a few weeks before Bertha died.

You lost it? Yes, sir.

I think it fell out of my coat pocket when I was out hunting.

I looked for it but couldn’t find it.

Did you report it missing? No, sir.

I was afraid my paw would be angry that I lost it.

Webb nodded.

Roy, I need to ask you directly.

Did you ever threaten birth a hood? Did you ever say if I can’t have you, nobody [clears throat] can? No, Roy said emphatically.

I never said nothing like that.

I wouldn’t hurt Bertha.

I cared about her.

Thank you, Roy.

Douglas Hail rose for cross-examination, and the temperature in the courtroom seemed to drop 10°.

Mr.

Roins, Hail said, his voice cold.

You testified that you cared about Bertha Hood.

Is that correct? Yes, sir.

Would you say you were obsessed with her? No, I just liked her.

But she didn’t return your affections, did she? No.

That must have made you angry.

I was disappointed.

But I wasn’t angry.

Really? Hail approached the stand, looming over Roy.

You weren’t angry when she rejected you again and again.

You weren’t angry when she told you to leave her alone.

I was sad, not angry.

Isn’t it true that you have a violent temper? that you’ve been in multiple fights at school sometimes.

But yes or no, Mr.

Roins? Yes, Roy admitted quietly.

And isn’t it true that just one week before Bertha’s death, you got into a physical altercation with Shorty Hopkins over her? Yes, but yes or no.

Yes.

Hail picked up a piece of paper.

I have here a statement from your teacher, Miss Pritchard, who says, and I quote, “Roy Roins has a quick temper and becomes violent when provoked.

” Is Miss Pritchard lying? No, but that don’t mean I killed Bertha.

You testified that you lost your 32 caliber pistol weeks before Bertha’s death.

Isn’t it convenient that the murder weapon has never been found? I did lose it.

Or did you use it to shoot Bertha Hood and then dispose of it? No.

You were seen with Bertha minutes before she was killed, correct? Yes, but I left before.

Yes or no? Yes.

And according to witness testimony, you were the last person seen with her before the gunshot was heard.

That’s not true.

Shorty was still there.

But you had motive, means, and opportunity, didn’t you, Mr.

Brunions? Roy was crying now, his voice breaking.

I didn’t kill her.

I swear I didn’t.

No further questions,” Hail said dismissively, returning to his seat.

Roy was escorted back to the defense table where he collapsed into his chair, sobbing.

Frank Roins reached over and squeezed his son’s shoulder, his own eyes filled with tears.

The defense called several character witnesses who testified that Roy, despite his temper, was not capable of murder.

They called Frank Roins, who testified that his son had been home by 7:00 p.

m.

that evening, though his testimony was weakened by his admission that he’d been drinking and couldn’t be certain of the exact time.

Finally, the defense called Shorty Hopkins.

Shorty took the stand with far more confidence than Roy had shown.

He was well-dressed, his hair neatly combed, his expression serious, but composed.

Marcus Webb questioned him about the events of November 2nd.

I was near the railroad tracks that evening, Shorty admitted.

I saw Bertha walking and I saw Roy talking to her.

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