Josie’s testimony in the libel trial is carried in all the papers; from Thanksgiving Day till Christmas it drives the gossip mills of New York City and across the state. The personal aspect of the scandal is reason enough for New Yorkers to pay attention; rarely do the rich and powerful find themselves so exposed as Fisk has become in this messy love triangle. “On the one side is Colonel Fisk, Prince of Erie, owner of the Grand Opera House, Lord of the Isles, famed in love and war,” the Herald mocks. “On the other the Cleopatra of the period, who has worked as much mischief in her own way with the unfortunate Fisk as did the Egyptian goddess of love and sensuality on the luckless Antony.”

But the political potential of the scandal is equally enticing. The involvement of Tweed makes the Fisk-Mansfield-Stokes affair politically explosive. Tweed’s cumulative missteps have weakened him; bettors lay odds that new sins discovered in the libel case will bring him and Tammany down.

Judge Bixby promises that justice will be swift in his Yorkville court. “If the lawyers in this case think they are going to make a long winter’s job of it, they are mistaken,” he declares in early December. “I will take up the case and carry it on day after day until it is concluded. I will not allow myself to be checkmated by the lawyers in carrying out this resolve.”

But he can’t control the calendar completely, and the new year arrives before the court resumes its hearings. January 6, 1872, is bitterly cold in Manhattan, and the courtroom is hardly warmer. The custodians have taken this Saturday morning off, and the coal stove in the center of the room has not been lit. The judge allows the counsel and witnesses to keep their coats on and does so himself.

Marietta Williams again accompanies Josie. This time Ned Stokes appears, too, although he arrives separately from Josie. Every eye in the courtroom follows him as he walks to his seat, for this is the man who has stolen Josie from Fisk and set the entire sordid spectacle in motion. Fisk has learned at the last minute that Stokes is coming; he can’t bring himself to be in the same room as his rival and stays away.

Josie enters the witness stand again. Fisk’s counsel Beach inquires how she met Fisk. “Are you acquainted with Miss Annie Wood?” he asks.

“Yes, I formed her acquaintance about six years ago in Washington.”

“Did you have a conversation with her in relation to Mr. Fisk?”

“No.”

“Did you ask Miss Wood to introduce you to Mr. Fisk after she had given you a description of him and of his character?”

“No. I met him accidentally at her house.”

“Do you recollect on that occasion pointing to your dress and saying in substance that was the best you had in the world, and you had not money enough to pay your week’s rent?”

“I don’t remember anything of the kind.”

“Did you say to her that you wanted to know him, as you had no way of earning your living?”

“I have no recollection of anything of the kind. I never said to Miss Wood, before or after my introduction to Fisk, that I was poor and needy, because I was not in such a condition.”

“Did you later tell Miss Wood that Mr. Fisk had taken a fancy to you, but that he had not done much for you yet?”

“I never told her so.”

Referring to a subsequent incident, Beach demands: “Did you show Miss Wood some costly diamonds and elegant dresses which you said were given you by Fisk?”

“No.”

Josie’s attorney McKeon objects that these questions have been fed to Beach by someone with a “wicked heart” and an intent to “insult the witness.”

Beach responds: “I am not able to judge of the character and heart of the gentleman who furnished me these questions. But I may be permitted to say they don’t come from Mr. Fisk.”

“I suppose they come from someone who is ready to do his dirty work,” McKeon answers.

Judge Bixby sustains the objection.

Beach pushes forward nonetheless. “Did you say, ‘There, Annie, look at these compared with my stock when I got acquainted with Fisk. Then I had nothing but that black and white silk dress, and no money in my purse and owing some rent’?”

McKeon objects again. Judge Bixby again excludes the question.

“Did Miss Wood reply to that, ‘You have been with him long enough to have got more than that if you were smart’? And did you answer you did not mean to beat him too fast?”

Another objection, again sustained.

“Did Miss Wood ask you upon that occasion if you esteemed or loved Mr. Fisk, and did you reply: ‘No, I don’t love him, only his money. He is not the style of man I like. I will get all the money I can out of him and then he may go’?”

McKeon jumps to his feet. This interrogation is all for the newspapers, he declares: to create a sensation and distract from the case at hand. Judge Bixby sustains the objection.

Beach alters his course. “Do you know Nelly Peris?”

“Yes, I did. I sent for her to my house in Twenty-third Street. She might have been there when Mr. Stokes was present.”

“Do you recollect that you three were talking upon any occasion when you had a conversation in regard to making money out of Fisk?”

“Never. I did not say in words or substance that I intended to blackmail him.”

Josie has been calm until now, but suddenly she struggles with her emotions and breaks down. She apologizes to the court and says she feels ill.

Judge Bixby comes to her aid. He comforts her verbally and glowers at Beach, who terminates the questioning.

Josie steps down and, still crying, leaves the courtroom.