THE TRIAL: III
On July 5 Jerry McAnarney resumed his place within the bar enclosure. Attendance had fallen off in the last week, but on this Tuesday morning every seat was occupied in anticipation of the defendants' taking the stand. The first witness was Aldeah Florence of Quincy, with whom Sarah Berardelli had boarded after her husband's death. Testifying for the defense, she said that Sarah had told her a few days after her husband's funeral that he might still be alive if only he had not left his revolver in the repair shop. Her examination and cross-examination lasted less than ten minutes. Then came a pause, with Moore and the McAnarneys whispering together, while the district attorney stood by, smiling knowingly.
Finally Jerry McAnarney turned toward the cage and asked "Will the defendant Vanzetti be brought forward?" A murmur ran through the courtroom. It was the moment that everyone had been awaiting since the beginning of the trial. A deputy unlocked the metal door. Quietly, Vanzetti stepped forward and raised his hand in oath before Clerk Worthington. The receding hairline of his domed forehead, the wrinkles around his eyes, the slight sag of flesh under his chin, above all his drooping mustache, made him look at least fifteen years older than thirty-three. He was dressed neatly in a dark suit, white shirt, high stiff collar, and black bow tie. On the stand he told his story in an assured manner, using few gestures, answering all questions without hesitation.
Guided by Jerry McAnarney, he told briefly of his early life, then of his years of wandering until he ended up with the Brinis in Plymouth. The rest had by now become a familiar story. On April 15, he said, he had been peddling fish in North Plymouth. Almost at