“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.

They were arguing, so I approached to make sure Bertha was okay.

What happened then? Bertha was upset.

She told both of us to leave her alone.

Roy got angry and left.

I stayed for a minute, apologizing to Bertha for the trouble we’d caused her.

Then I left, too.

Was Bertha alive when you left? Yes, sir.

She was walking toward the church.

Did you hear a gunshot? No, sir.

I was already too far away.

Did you see anyone else near the railroad tracks that evening? Shorty paused, then nodded.

Actually, yes.

I saw Billy Thompson in the woods with a rifle.

He was watching us.

This sent a murmur through the courtroom.

You saw Billy Thompson? Yes, sir.

I didn’t think much of it at the time.

Lots of people hunt in those woods, but now thinking back, it was strange.

He was just standing there watching.

Thank you, Shorty.

Douglas Hail’s cross-examination was brief, but pointed.

Mr.

Hopkins, isn’t it true that your family has hired expensive attorneys to keep you out of trouble? My father hired attorneys to represent me.

Yes.

And isn’t it true that you’ve been coached on what to say? Objection.

Shorty’s attorney stood.

That’s an outrageous accusation with no basis.

Sustained.

Judge Morrison said, “Mr.

Hail, please rephrase.

” Mr.

Hopkins, you claim you saw Billy Thompson.

Why didn’t you mention this to the sheriff when you were first questioned? I didn’t think it was important.

Or perhaps you’re mentioning it now to deflect blame from yourself and your friend Roy.

That’s not true.

No further questions.

After 5 days of testimony, both sides rested their cases.

Closing arguments began on the morning of April 21st.

Douglas Hail delivered a passionate summation, reminding the jury of Bertha’s innocence of her family’s grief and of the overwhelming circumstantial evidence pointing to Roy Roins.

Roy Roins had motive, a jealous obsession.

He had means, a 32 caliber pistol that conveniently disappeared.

He had opportunity.

He was the last person seen with the victim and he has provided no credible alibi.

The evidence is clear.

Justice demands that you find him guilty.

Marcus Webb’s closing was equally impassioned.

The Commonwealth has presented a case built on speculation, circumstantial evidence, and the testimony of a questionable witness who may have had his own reasons to harm Bertha Hood.

Roy Roins is a 15-year-old boy who made mistakes, who exercised poor judgment, but who did not commit murder.

The prosecution has not proven guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.

You must acquit.

Judge Morrison gave his instructions to the jury, and they retired to deliberate.

The wait was agonizing.

Hours passed.

The crowd outside the courthouse grew restless.

Inside, the family sat in tense silence.

Finally, after 7 hours, the jury sent word that they had reached a verdict.

Everyone rushed back into the courtroom.

Judge Morrison took his seat and the jury filed in their faces grave and unreadable.

Has the jury reached a verdict? Judge Morrison asked.

The foreman, a coal miner named Samuel Preston, stood.

We have, your honor.

What say you? Samuel Preston looked directly at Roy Roins and in that moment Roy knew.

We find the defendant Roy Roins guilty of murder in the second degree.

The courtroom exploded.

William Hood let out a sob of relief, embracing his wife.

Frank Roans cried out in anguish.

Roy collapsed in his chair, his face in his hands.

Judge Morrison banged his gavvel repeatedly until order was restored.

Roy runions.

The judge said solemnly, “You have been found guilty of seconddegree murder in the death of Bertha Anne Hood.

I hereby sentence you to 25 years in the Virginia State Penitentiary.

You will be remanded into custody immediately.

” “Two deputies came forward to take Roy away.

” As they led him from the courtroom, he looked back at his father one last time.

“I’m sorry, P,” he whispered.

And then he was gone.

The verdict sent shock waves through Wise County, but not everyone was satisfied.

While many felt justice had been served, others harbored doubts.

Seconddegree murder meant the jury believed Roy had killed Bertha, but hadn’t premeditated the act.

It had been a crime of passion, a moment of rage rather than calculated evil.

This distinction troubled some who had followed the case closely.

William Hood stood on the courthouse steps after the verdict was read, surrounded by well-wishers offering congratulations and condolences.

But his face showed no triumph, only exhaustion.

“Is it over?” Martha asked quietly, clutching her husband’s arm.

“I don’t know,” William admitted.

“He’s been convicted, but Bertha is still gone.

Nothing brings her back.

” As spring turned to summer in 1931, life in Wise County slowly returned to normal, or as normal as it could after such tragedy.

The Hood family continued to grieve, visiting Bertha’s grave every Sunday after church.

The small headstone they’d finally been able to afford bore a simple inscription, Bertha Anne Hood.

1915 1930, beloved daughter with the angels.

Now Roy Roins was transported to the Virginia State Penitentiary in Richmond, where he would serve his sentence among hardened criminals.

Despite being only 15 years old, the prison system in 1931 made no special accommodations for youth.

Roy would be treated like any other inmate.

Frank Roan sold his farm within 6 months, unable to bear the whispers and the judgment of neighbors.

He moved to West Virginia where he died two years later from complications of alcoholism.

Having never recovered from the loss of his son, Shorty Hopkins, charged only as an accessory after the fact, received a suspended sentence after his family’s attorneys argued he had been terrified into silence by Royy’s threats.

The Hopkins family continued to maintain Shorty’s complete innocence, insisting he had been wrongly implicated.

But the story didn’t end there.

In November 1933, exactly 3 years after Bertha’s murder, a man appeared at the Wise County Sheriff’s Office asking to speak with Sheriff Bentley, the man was trembling, clearly intoxicated and kept looking over his shoulder as if expecting to be followed.

“I need to talk to you about the hood girl,” the man said, about what really happened.

The man was Billy Thompson, now 19 years old.

Sheriff Bentley, who had been preparing to leave for the day, stopped and studied the young man carefully.

Billy had changed significantly.

He was thinner with hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes.

He looked like someone haunted by demons.

“What about Bertha Hood?” the sheriff asked cautiously.

“I lied,” Billy blurted out, tears streaming down his face.

“I lied at the trial.

Roy didn’t kill her.

Sheriff Bentley felt his stomach drop.

You need to be very careful about what you’re saying, Billy.

You testified under oath.

If you’re telling me now that you committed perjury, “I know,” Billy sobbed.

“I know what I did, and it’s been eating me alive for 3 years.

I can’t sleep.

I can’t live with myself anymore.

I have to tell the truth.

” The sheriff ushered Billy into his office and closed the door.

He poured the young man a cup of coffee and waited for him to calm down.

“Start from the beginning,” Sheriff Bentley said.

“And tell me everything.

” Billy took a shaky breath and began.

I was out hunting that evening, like I said, and I did see Bertha with Roy and Shorty.

They were arguing, but when Roy left and Shorty left, Bertha was still alive.

She kept walking toward the church.

Then what happened? Billy’s hands trembled as he gripped the coffee cup.

I followed her.

I’d been drinking some moonshine I’d stolen from my daddy’s still.

I wasn’t thinking straight.

I’d asked Bertha to the church social a few weeks before and she’d said no.

It hurt my pride, you know, and seeing Roy and Shorty fighting over her when she wouldn’t give any of us the time of day, it made me angry.

Sheriff Bentley leaned forward.

What did you do, Billy? I caught up with her on the tracks.

I called out to her, asked her why she thought she was too good for me.

She got scared.

She told me to leave her alone, that she was going to tell her father.

And I I got angrier.

I grabbed her arm, trying to make her listen to me.

Billy’s voice broke.

She pulled away from me.

My rifle was slung over my shoulder, and when she pulled away, it swung around.

My finger was on the trigger.

I don’t even know why.

And it just it went off.

The confession hung in the air like a physical weight.

It was an accident, Sheriff Bentley asked.

I swear it was, Billy said desperately.

I didn’t mean to shoot her.

But when I saw her fall, saw the blood, I panicked.

I knew what people would think.

I knew they’d say I murdered her, so I ran.

And you let Roy run Roins take the blame.

I know, Billy cried.

I know what I did was wrong.

When the sheriff started investigating when Roy and Shorty got arrested, I thought maybe I’d get away with it.

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