William Monk 19 - Blind Justice

that not a measure of love, rather than need or possessiveness?
    Gavinton was asking questions now.
    “Mr. Taft, what was the purpose of your ministry, briefly?” he inquired. “I ask so the court can understand your intentions, and the need and use of the funds you receive.”
    Taft smiled very slightly. “I preach the gospel of Christ to the poor in spirit,” he answered. “And by that I mean those who are humble enough to listen, and to help those poor in the world’s necessities, the cold, the hungry, and the homeless, sometimes also the sick. Clearly, to do this we must have money.” His voice was smooth, well practiced. “We ask those who are true believers, generous of spirit, to give as they can. In doing this, both the giver and the receiver are blessed. It is not complicated. Serve God by loving your neighbor. It is the message Christ himself taught when he was here on earth.”
    “It sounds very simple,” Gavinton said, lowering his voice in respect. “One would wonder how anybody could take issue with it, except perhaps because it requires effort and sacrifice.”
    Warne rose to his feet. “My lord, if we wish to hear a sermon we will go to Mr. Taft’s Church for it. The court requires that he defend himself from charges of fraud, not tell us what Christ taught regarding charity. If my learned friend has no questions for Mr. Taft, I certainly have.”
    Rathbone looked at Gavinton. “Mr. Gavinton, please phrase what you have to say in the form of questions. We also require that you make them relevant to the case. Be precise. The prosecution has spoken of very exact sums of money given by specific people. That is what you must speak to, if you are to prove Mr. Taft’s innocence.”
    Gavinton stiffened in annoyance, but it was only momentary. He believed he had a winning hand, but he did not take kindly to being told how to play it.
    “Of course, my lord,” he said a little sharply, then looked up at the witness stand again. His manner altered completely, respectful again. “Mr. Taft, are you aware of the individual sums given by your parishioners?”
    “No, sir,” Taft said courteously. “I preach, and I ask the congregation to donate when they can in general terms. I am concerned with overall principles. I make it my business to thank people, when I am aware of their gifts, but I leave the details to others.”
    “Specifically to Mr. Robertson Drew?” Gavinton’s eyebrows rose.
    “Yes.”
    “Have you known him a long time?”
    “Yes.” Taft offered a rueful smile. “More years than I care to remember.”
    “You trust him?”
    “Of course. I would hardly leave something of such importance in the hands of a man I did not trust. That would be not only foolish but morally quite wrong.”
    Gavinton considered for a moment. Every man in the jury was watching him. He looked up at Taft. “You have heard several men testify in this case saying that they were pressured into giving more money than they could afford and that they therefore fell into financial difficulties themselves, they turned to you for help, and you did not give it. Is that true?”
    Taft bit his lip and shook his head very slightly. He gave the impression of confusion and regret. “As Mr. Drew explained, we no longer had the sums in our possession,” he said sadly. “We pass over money almostas soon as we have it. The people to whom we give it are in desperate need. Had I known at the time that it was more than the givers could afford I would have declined to take it.”
    “But you didn’t ask if they could afford it?” Gavinton queried.
    Taft looked horrified. “Of course not! If a man offers you money to give to the poor, you don’t ask him if he can afford it. It is at best patronizing, as if you thought him incapable of managing his own affairs.” He gave a little shiver. “At worst it is downright insulting.”
    “Of course. I wouldn’t either,” Gavinton agreed. “I dare say no one in this court would. I am going to ask another question that I would not, were this not a trial in which reputations are at stake. Do you trust Mr. Drew absolutely in matters of money?”
    “In all matters,” Taft said instantly. “I would not have him in the position he is if I didn’t.”
    “Is he responsible for the finances of your Church?”
    “He is.” Taft straightened even a fraction more. “But if you are implying that any of this misfortune is his fault, then you are mistaken. I placed him in