Scarecrow of 1889
Chapter 44: The outrage

Chapter 44: The outrage

While Sylvester was in the asylum, being treated for his disorder, on the other side, emotions ran high as the hallowed halls of Judge Reynolds’s office filled with the anger of grieving families. The furious members had gathered together.

Margot Brooks’s father, his face contorted with fury, pounded his fist on the judge’s desk. "She was my daughter!" he bellowed, the raw grief palpable in his voice. "Five months have passed, and still, no justice! How is it that the murderer roams free while we suffer?"

Beside him, Sebastian Daniel’s mother shook with fury, her eyes blazing as she confronted the judge. "Why the delay? Is it because he bribed you? Name your price, then! I’ll pay double, triple if needed! All I want is to see that cold-blooded monster hang. He deserves no mercy!"

Judge Reynolds’s expression darkened, his frown deepening as he regarded the assembly before him. The room was thick with the tension of raw, unfiltered despair—the families of the Scarecrow case victims stood united in their single demand: the execution of Sylvester Crowley.

"Mrs. Daniel," he began, his voice steady despite the charged atmosphere, "please understand, this decision wasn’t influenced by money. The court reviewed every aspect of the case thoroughly. Sylvester Crowley has been diagnosed with a severe mental disorder. He is not a criminal in the traditional sense; he is a patient in need of treatment—"

"If he was truly ill, he should have recovered by now!" Mr. Brooks’s voice cracked with emotion. "No one remains sick this long unless they’re feigning it! My poor daughter..." His voice faltered, choked by tears. "What did she do to deserve such brutality? You didn’t see how I found her... her eyes gone... her heart..."

Judge Reynolds maintained a grave expression, attempting to provide some semblance of calm in the storm of grief. "Mr. Brooks, I am fully aware of the horrific details, though I did not see them firsthand. I have seen the photographs."

"You turned a blind eye and now you protect him!" Sebastian Daniel’s mother exclaimed, her voice raw with grief and fury.

"He must be punished!" another anguished voice joined in, amplifying the call for justice. The room quickly descended into chaos, voices overlapping in desperate cries for retribution, until Judge Reynolds slammed a book down on his desk.

"Silence!" he demanded, his eyes sweeping the room with a stern glare. "This is not a reporter’s gathering. Maintain your decorum!"

However, his attempt to restore order fell on deaf ears amidst the storm of emotions. Lola Taylor’s husband, overwhelmed with rage and sorrow, shouted, "You’re all protecting him! Five months have passed with no change! We want justice! I want him dead!" In his anger, he shoved a chair, sending it crashing against the wall.

The room erupted, with some starting to tear down whatever they could lay their hands on. Guards rushed in just as chaos peaked, and amid the turmoil, an object flew, striking Judge Reynolds on the head. Blood began to trickle down his face, marking the physical toll of the confrontation.

"Everyone will be put under arrest! Out of the room! Call for backup!" barked one of the officers, as the room was cleared with people being forcibly removed.

The inspector stepped into the room where Judge Reynolds was seated, the stark white bandage on his forehead immediately drawing attention. His eyes widened in concern. "How did this happen?!" he exclaimed, looking for an explanation.

"It was the victims’ families," Judge Reynolds replied, straightening himself in his chair as he adjusted to the presence of the inspector and his accompanying officer, Sergeant Gruger.

"Victims?" the inspector inquired, prompting further clarification.

"The Scarecrow case," Judge Reynolds elaborated, his tone weary from the day’s events.

Sergeant Gruger, who had been observing quietly, interjected with a note of inevitability, "I knew this was going to happen." His remark, however, was met with a sharp glance from the inspector, silencing him immediately.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the situation settling around them. The inspector finally broke the silence, his voice filled with concern, "The public hasn’t been happy about the verdict you gave. Even though you said it was temporary. They are angry, hurt, and shocked that a murderer like him is out in the open. I thought the unrest would die down, but it’s been quite some time since the case was closed."

Judge Reynolds nodded, understanding the gravity of the public’s emotions. "I understand where they are coming from, which is why I didn’t press charges for the incident today," he stated calmly. "But Mr. Crowley is suffering from a serious disorder."

Inspector Woodbead, who had been listening intently, voiced his concern, "But, Judge Reynolds, by letting him go unpunished, we are potentially giving other criminals a pretext to escape the consequences of their crimes. The next time there is a crime, they might claim they were possessed, that the devil made them do it. Are we going to let them off too? Not to mention, there has been a noticeable increase in the crime rate."

"Exactly! People might start thinking they can commit crimes without facing punishment!" Sergeant Gruger added, nodding in agreement with the inspector.

But it wasn’t just Judge Reynolds who was facing the heat of the public, who continuously shouted words at him and held slogans for him to see the injustice they believed had fallen on them. It was the commissioner who was questioned even by the newspapers that were printed every day, where it was written how they had saved a culprit.

In the commissioner’s office, the phone rang sharply. It was Mayor Shepherd, his tone laced with urgency and frustration, reflecting the chaotic situation unfolding both locally and statewide.

"Commissioner, have you received any updates from the asylum?" The mayor inquired, his voice betraying his concern for the ongoing disturbances.

"Yes, Mayor. I spoke with Dr. Wright last week. They’re still working with Mr. Crowley. His condition is complex, the personalities have not yet integrated," the commissioner explained. He was about to comment on some observed improvements when the mayor cut him off.

"Commissioner," Mayor Shepherd interjected, his voice grave, "this situation with Judge Reynolds’s verdict isn’t reflecting well on any of us—on you, on me. Do you understand the implications here?"

"I do, Mayor Shepherd," the commissioner responded, acknowledging the sensitive nature of their conversation. "The judgement has been passed, however."

"That’s exactly why I’ve been thinking ahead. We need to resolve this scarecrow case permanently," the mayor stated matter-of-factly, as if discussing a routine administrative decision.

"But what about potential backlash? Won’t there be questions?" The commissioner asked, furrowing his brow.

"The majority supports decisive action; it’s only a vocal minority that might object. We need to act to restore public confidence in our administration," the mayor argued.

Nodding, the commissioner agreed, "Understood. I’ll make arrangements with the asylum."

"Let’s be clear, Commissioner. We’re not talking about euthanasia. We need a more... definitive solution. Sylvester Crowley should face the electric chair. It’s time we showed the public that their demands are being met," the mayor instructed, his tone cold and calculated. "I’m thinking of attending personally. Maybe even take a trip to Scotland afterward, bring an illustrator, and make sure we document this. It could strengthen our position."

"Very well, Mayor Shepherd," the commissioner replied, his voice steady despite the weight of the conversation.

"I’ve also briefed a journalist about this. He’ll break the news tomorrow. The public will hear it on the radio," the mayor concluded before hanging up.

The following day, the newspaper headlines declared boldly: Sylvester Crowley has been sentenced to death.

When Charles heard the news after reading the newspaper, made a quick call to his ladyship, who was working in another town now.

"Did you hear the news?"

"What news?" Jane asked.

"Sylvester has been sentenced to death. It is going to be in three days," Charles informed her.

"That’s not possible," Jane muttered with a frown. Because the court had already passed its judgement, they couldn’t change it. "They aren’t supposed to do it..."

And like Jane, Dr. Colin Hall had the same thought. He said to Dr. Wright, "Doctor you know he is suffering from split personality disorder. We cannot kill him like that!"

"You and I know that. The whole of the faculty in this asylum knows it. But the others aren’t willing to hear the man out," Dr. Wright sighed in a defeated tone. "The mayors of the towns have spoken to each other and have made the necessary adjustments to come over here."

Dr. Hall knew that they were so close in healing Sylvester, but that opportunity was being taken away. He said, "There should be another way, no?"

"Colin," Dr. Wright kept his hand on Colin’s shoulder and said, "I know you have poured your energy in helping Mr. Crowley, but this is out of our control. Don’t breathe a word about it to Sylvester. It has to be a smooth process."