No Regrets

hundredpieces of evidence in, everything Canova asked for— except for some photographs.
    Not to be outdone, Weedon filed a civil case shortly after the omnibus hearing. Ruth’s threat to sue became reality as she filed a $750,000 civil suit against the investigators. Virtually everyone on the search warrant team was served with a subpoena.
    The newest date of Ruth’s criminal trial was set for August 1, 1983, three years to the day, less one week, after Rolf Neslund had vanished forever.
    But the pace slowed again. Fred Weedon and his co-counsel, Ellsworth Connelly, appealed to the State Supreme Court asking for a ruling on a discretionary review. He still insisted that Judge Richard Pitt had not been a “neutral” judge when he granted the second search warrant. How could he have been, Weedon asked, since he had also been the inquiry judge earlier in the investigation?
    There would be no trial on August 1.
    What Ruth Neslund’s defense team was working toward, of course, was a complete dismissal of charges against her. If they succeeded in having the evidence thrown out of the trial, their next move would be to question whether Rolf Neslund was really dead. Not even a fragment of his body had ever been found.
    Even though the A Positive blood that remained in the Alec Bay house was the same type as Rolf’s, Ruth was also A positive. Furthermore, Connelly commented that he could see no way to prove that Rolf had not cut himself shaving, had a nosebleed, or suffered a household accident.
    Through all the legal maneuvering, Ruth’s trial date seemed farther and farther away. Aware that the courtroom floor had trembled as if the islands had sustained a majorearthquake in Ruth’s 1983 arraignment, officials had condemned the building. As it turned out, there was plenty of time to construct the new courthouse in Friday Harbor before Ruth ever went to trial.
    What appeared to be the final date was announced: May 1985. The courtroom had been reserved for six weeks, and trial was only a little more than a week away. The curious looked forward to sitting in the gallery, but there were those who thought it was time to just forget about Ruth Neslund and what she might or might not have done five years earlier.
    A man named Marcus E. Bonn wrote a letter to the “Speak Out!” section of the
Journal:
    Dear Editor:
    I find that our esteemed county prosecutor is now proceeding with the prosecution of Mrs. Neslund. I wonder just how much of a chance he has of convicting her of more than poor housekeeping? He is coming to court with no corpus delicti; it has taken a couple of years to prepare enough “evidence” to start the whole program.
    He is going to try a woman for murder—can he get enough of a jury panel of people that hate her to convict? (People that are merely neutral will laugh at the case.)
    As one of the county taxpayers, having seen what can be wasted with that guy that was shot in the leg [an earlier county case that cost $50,000], I wonder just how much more will be wasted here?
    If Mrs. Neslund goes to trial, it will be another big-time waste job on our money. She can’t be convicted unless the jury is bribed or stupid . . . If convicted,what will happen? When you read the results of other trials, will it be “30 days with all but 10 minutes suspended?”
    I say, let it drop. If Mrs. Neslund assisted her husband out of this life, she alone must live with it for her few remaining years. This trial will be a farce.
    The letter demonstrated once again that the majority of laymen don’t understand the meaning of corpus delicti, believing that a murder case without a human corpse is no case at all. It was no wonder that the San Juan County sheriff’s investigators had to work hard to keep up their morale and belief in justice. It had been five years—no one seemed to care anymore about a trial, except to worry that it would raise taxes.
    And, somehow, the fact that Ruth was a female seemed to make her a pitiful target, one incapable of doing any real harm.
    Nevertheless, both sides were ready to go to court in August 1985. But then Ruth suffered what the defense said was a terrible fall; she broke her hip.
    A courthouse regular walked beside Fred Weedon as he left the courtroom, having been granted one more delay. Sotto voce, the man commented, “All you have to do now, Fred, is see that she breaks her other leg.”

Seventeen
    The latest trial deadline was Monday, October 28, 1985, but no one seemed