The Hampstead Mystery

by John R. Watson and Arthur J. Rees

  CHAPTER XXX

  The impending trial of Holymead produced almost as much excitement instaid legal circles as it did among the general public. It was rumouredthat there was a difficulty in obtaining a judge to preside at the trial,as they all objected to being placed in the position of trying a man whowas well-known to them and with whom most of them had been on friendlyterms. There was a great deal of sympathy for the prisoner among thejudges. Of course, they could not admit that any man had the right totake the law into his own hands, but they realised that if any wrong doneto an individual could justify this course it was the wrong Sir HoraceFewbanks had done to an old friend.

  When it became known that Mr. Justice Hodson was to preside at the OldBailey during the trial of Holymead, legal rumour concerned itself withstatements to the effect that there was now a difficulty in obtaining aK.C. to undertake the prosecution. When it was discovered that Mr.Walters, K.C., was to conduct the prosecution, it was whispered that hehad asked to be relieved of the work and had even waited on theAttorney-General in the matter, but that the latter had told him that hemust put his personal feelings aside and act in accordance with that highsense of duty he had always shown in his professional career.

  In Newgate Street a long queue of people waited for admission to OldBailey on the day the trial was to begin. They were inspected by two fatpolicemen to decide whether they appeared respectable enough to beentitled to a free seat at the entertainment in Number One Court. Whenthe doors opened at 10.15 a.m. the first batch of them were admitted, buton reaching the top of the stairs, where they were inspected by asergeant, they were informed that all the seats in the gallery of NumberOne Court had been filled, but that he would graciously permit them to goto Numbers Two, Three, Four, or Five Courts. Those who were not satisfiedwith this generosity could get out the way they had come in and be quickabout it. What the sergeant did not explain was that so many people withsocial influence had applied to the presiding judge for permission to bepresent at the trial that it had been found necessary to reserve thegallery for them as well as most of the seats in the body of the court.Fashionably-dressed ladies and well-groomed men drove up to the mainentrance of the Old Bailey in motors and taxi-cabs. The scene was as busyas the scene outside a West End theatre on a first night. The services ofseveral policemen were necessary to regulate the arrival and departure oftaxi-cabs and motor-cars and to keep back the staring mob of disappointedpeople who had been refused admission to the court by the fat sergeant,but were determined to see as much as they could before they went away.Elderly ladies and young ladies were assisted from smart motor-cars bytheir escorts, and greeted their friends with feminine fervour. Some ofthe younger ones exchanged whispered regrets, as they swept into thecourt, that such a fine-looking man as Holymead should have got himselfinto such a terrible predicament.

  The legal profession was numerously represented among the spectators inthe body of the court. So many distinguished members of the professionhad applied for tickets of admission that there was little room formembers of the junior bar. It was many years since a trial had createdso much interest in legal circles. When Mr. Justice Hodson entered thecourt, followed by no fewer than eight of the Sheriffs of London, thosepresent in the court rose. The members of the profession bowed slowly inthe direction of His Honour. The prisoner was brought into the dock frombelow, and took the seat that was given to him beside one of the twowarders who remained in the dock with him. He looked a little careworn,as though with sleepless nights, but his strong, clean-shaven face wasas resolute as ever, and betrayed nothing of the mental agony which heendured. His keen dark eyes glanced quietly through the court, andthough many members of the bar smiled at him when they thought they hadcaught his eye, he gave no smile in return. As he looked at Mr. JusticeHodson, the distinguished judge inclined his head to what was almost anod of recognition, but the prisoner looked calmly at the judge asthough he had never seen him before and had never been inside a court inhis life till then.

  Among those persons standing in the body of the court were Crewe andInspector Chippenfield and Detective Rolfe. Inspector Chippenfielddisplayed so much friendliness to Crewe as he drew his attention to thenumber of celebrities in court that it was evident he had buried for thetime being his professional enmity. This was because Crewe had allowedhim to appropriate some of the credit of unravelling Holymead'sconnection with the crime. As the jury were being sworn in Crewe andChippenfield made their way out of court into the corridor. As they wereto be called as witnesses they would not be allowed in court until afterthey had given their evidence.

  Mr. Walters in his opening address paid tribute to the exceptionalcircumstances of the case by some slight show of nervousness. Severaltimes he insisted that the case was what he termed unique. The prisonerin the dock was a man who by his distinguished abilities had won forhimself a leading position at the bar, and had been honoured andrespected by all who knew him. It was not the first occasion that amember of the legal profession had been placed on trial on a capitalcharge, though he was glad to say, for the honour of the profession, thatcases of the kind were extremely rare. But what made the case unique wasthat it was not the first trial in connection with the murder of SirHorace Fewbanks, and that at the first trial when a man named FrederickBirchill had been placed in the dock, the prisoner now before the courthad appeared as defending Counsel, and by his brilliant conduct of thedefence had materially contributed to the verdict of acquittal which hadbeen brought in by the jury. Some evidence would be placed before thejury about the first trial and the conduct of the defence. He ventured toassert that the jury would find in this evidence some damaging factsagainst the prisoner--that they would find a clear indication that theprisoner had defended Birchill because he knew himself to be guilty ofthis murder, and felt an obligation on him to place his legal knowledgeand forensic powers at the disposal of a man whom he knew to be innocent.At the former trial the prisoner, as Counsel for the defence, hadattempted to throw suspicion on a man named Hill, who had been butler tothe late Sir Horace Fewbanks, but evidence would be placed before thejury to show that in doing so the prisoner had been smitten by some pangsof conscience at casting suspicion on a man who he knew was not guilty.

  It was not incumbent on the prosecution to prove a motive for the murder,continued Mr. Walters, though where the motive was plainly proved thecase against the prisoner was naturally strengthened. In this case therewas no doubt about the motive, but the extent of the evidence to beplaced before the jury under that head would depend upon the defence. Theprosecution would submit some evidence on the point, but the full storycould only be told if the defence placed the wife of the prisoner in thewitness-box. It was impossible for the prosecution to call her as awitness, as English law prevented a wife giving evidence against herhusband. She could, however, give evidence in favour of her husband, anddoubtless the defence would take full advantage of the privilege ofcalling her.

  The evidence which he intended to call would show that for years pastvery friendly relations had existed between the prisoner and the murderedman. They had been at Cambridge together and had studied law together inchambers. Their friendship continued after their marriages. The prisonerhad married a second time, and at that time Sir Horace Fewbanks was awidower. Sir Horace Fewbanks was what was known as a ladies' man, and atthe previous trial prisoner, as defending Counsel, had tried to bring outthat Sir Horace was a man of immoral reputation among women. There was nodoubt that the prisoner, during Sir Horace's absence in Scotland, becameconvinced that Sir Horace had been paying attention to his wife. Therewas no doubt that, being a man of a jealous disposition, his suspicionswent beyond that. At any rate he wrote a letter to Sir Horace atCraigleith Hall, where the latter was shooting, asking him to come toLondon at once. In order to induce Sir Horace to return, and in order notto arouse suspicion as to his real object, he concocted a story about avacancy in the Court of Appeal Bench to which, it appeared, Sir HoraceFewbanks desired to be appointed. In this letter, which woul
d be producedin evidence, the prisoner pretended to be working in Sir Horace'sinterests, and offered to meet him on the night of his return atRiversbrook and let him know fully how matters stood. Sir Horaceapparently wrote to the prisoner making an appointment with him for thenight of the 18th of August. The prisoner kept that appointment, chargedSir Horace with carrying on an intrigue with his wife, and then shot him.

  "That is the case for the prosecution which I will endeavour to establishto the satisfaction of the jury," said Mr. Walters, in concluding hisspeech, "Of course it is impossible to produce direct evidence of theactual shooting. But I will produce a silent but indisputable witness inthe form of a glove which belonged to the prisoner, that he was presentin the room in which the murder took place. I will produce evidence toshow that the prisoner left his stick behind in the hat-stand in thehall on the night of the murder. These things prove conclusively that heleft Riversbrook in a state of considerable excitement. The fact thatafter the murder was discovered he kept hidden in his own breast theknowledge that he had been there on that night, instead of going to thepolice and, in the endeavour to assist them to detect the murderer of hislifelong friend, informing them that he had called on Sir Horace, showsconclusively that he went there on a mission on which he dared not throwthe light of day."

  Those witnesses who had given evidence at the police court were calledand repeated their statements. Inspector Seldon was closelycross-examined by Mr. Lethbridge as to the way in which the dead body wasdressed when he discovered it. He declared that Sir Horace had beenwearing a light lounge suit of grey colour, a silk shirt, wing collar andblack bow tie. Dr. Slingsby's cross-examination was directed toascertaining as near as possible the time when the murder was committed,but this was a point on which the witness allowed himself to beirritatingly indefinite. The murder might have taken place three or fourhours before midnight on the 18th of August, and on the other hand itmight have taken place any time up to three or four hours after midnight.

  Hill, who had not been available as a witness at the policecourt--being then on the way back from America in response to acablegram from Crewe--reappeared as a witness. He looked much more atease in the witness-box than on the occasion when he gave evidenceagainst Birchill. He had fully recovered from his terror of beingarrested for the murder, and obviously had much satisfaction in givingevidence against the man who, according to his impression, had tried tobring the crime home to him.

  He gave evidence as to the unexpected return of his master from Scotlandon the 18th of August, and also in regard to the relations between hismaster and Mrs. Holymead. On several occasions he had seen his masterkiss Mrs. Holymead, and once he had heard the door of the room in whichthey were together being locked.

  Two new witnesses were called to testify to the suggestion of theprosecution that illicit relations had existed between Sir HoraceFewbanks and Mrs. Holymead. These were Philip Williams, who had been thedead man's chauffeur, and Dorothy Mason, who had been housemaid atRiversbrook. The chauffeur gave evidence as to meeting Mrs. Holymead'scar at various places in the country. He formed the opinion from thefirst that these meetings between Sir Horace and the lady were notaccidental.

  The last of the prosecution's witnesses was the legal shorthand writerwho had taken the official report of the trial of Birchill. In responseto the request of Mr. Walters, he read from his notebook the finalpassage in the opening address delivered by the prisoner at that trial asdefending Counsel: "'It is my duty to convince you that my client is notguilty, or, in other words, to convince you that the murder was committedbefore he reached the house. It is only with the greatest reluctance thatI take upon myself the responsibility of pointing an accusing finger atanother man. In crimes of this kind you cannot expect to get anything butcircumstantial evidence. But there are degrees of circumstantialevidence, and my duty to my client lays upon me the obligation ofpointing out to you that there is one person against whom the existingcircumstantial evidence is stronger than it is against my client.'"

  Mr. Lethbridge was unexpectedly brief in his opening address. Heridiculed the idea that a man like the prisoner, trained in theatmosphere of the law, would take the law into his own hands in seekingrevenge for a wrong that had been done to him. According to theprosecution the prisoner had calmly and deliberately carried out thismurder. He had sent a letter to Sir Horace Fewbanks with the object ofinducing him to return to London, and had subsequently gone toRiversbrook and shot the man who had been his lifelong friend. Couldanything be more improbable than to suppose that a man of the accused'straining, intellect, and force of character, would be swayed by a gust ofpassion into committing such a dreadful crime like an immature ignorantyouth of unbalanced temperament? The discovery that his wife and hisfriend were carrying on an intrigue would be more likely to fill him withdisgust than inspire him with murderous rage. He would not deny thataccused had gone up to Riversbrook a few hours after Sir Horace Fewbanksreturned from Scotland; he would admit that when the accused sought thisinterview he knew that his quondam friend had done him the greatest wrongone man could do another; but he emphatically denied that the prisonerkilled Sir Horace Fewbanks or threatened to take his life.

  His learned friend had asked why had not the prisoner gone to the policeafter the murder was discovered and told them that he had seen Sir Horaceat Riversbrook that night. The answer to that was clear and emphatic. Hedid not want to take the police into his confidence with regard to therelations that had existed between his wife and the dead man. He wantedto save his wife's name from scandal. Was not that a natural impulse fora high-minded man? The prisoner had believed that in due course thepolice would discover the actual murderer, and that in the meantime thescandal which threatened his wife's name would be buried with the man whohad wronged her. If the prisoner could have prevented it his wife's namewould not have been dragged into this case even for the purpose of savinghimself from injustice. But the prosecution, in order to establish amotive for the crime, had dragged this scandal into light. He did notblame the prosecution in the least for that. In fact he was grateful tohis learned friend for doing so, for it had released him from a promiseextracted from him by the prisoner not to make any use of the matter inhis conduct of the case. The defence was that, although the accused manhad gone to Riversbrook on the night of the 18th of August to accuse SirHorace Fewbanks of base treachery, he went there unarmed, and with nointention of committing violence. No threats were used and no shot wasfired during the interview. And in proof of the latter contention heintended to call witnesses to prove that Sir Horace Fewbanks was aliveafter the prisoner had left the house.

  The name of Daniel Kemp was loudly called by the ushers, and when Kempcrossed the court on the way to the witness-box, Chippenfield andCrewe, who had returned to the court after giving their evidence,looked at one another.

  "He's a dead man," whispered Chippenfield, nodding his head towards theprisoner, "if this is a sample of their witnesses."

  Kemp had brushed himself up for his appearance in the witness-box. Hewore a new ready-made tweed suit; his thick neck was encased in a whitelinen collar which he kept fingering with one hand as though trying toloosen it for his greater comfort; and his hair had been plastered flaton his head with plenty of cold water. His red and scratched chin furtherindicated that he had taken considerable pains with a razor to improvehis personal appearance in keeping with his unwonted part of arespectable witness in a place which knew a more sinister side of him. Ashe stood in the witness-box, awkwardly avoiding the significant glancesthat the Scotland Yard men and the police cast at him, he appeared to bemore nervous and anxious than he usually was when in the dock. But Crewe,who was watching him closely, was struck by the look of dog-like devotionhe hurriedly cast at the weary face of the man in the dock before hecommenced to give his evidence.

  He told the court a remarkable story. He declared that Birchill had toldhim on the 16th of August that he had a job on at Riversbrook, and hadasked him to join him in it. When Birchill explained the
details witnessdeclined to have a hand in it. He did not like these put-up jobs.

  Mr. Lethbridge interposed to explain to any particularly unsophisticatedjurymen that "a put-up job" meant a burglary that had been arranged withthe connivance of a servant in the house to be broken into.

  Kemp declared that the reason he had declined to have anything to do withthe project to burgle Riversbrook was that he felt sure Hill would squeakif the police threatened him when they came to investigate the burglary.He happened to be at Hampstead on the evening of the 18th of August andhe took a walk along Tanton Gardens to have another look at the placewhich Birchill was to break into. It had occurred to him that thingsmight not be square, and that Hill might have laid a trap for Birchill.That was about 9.30 p.m. He was just able to catch a glimpse of the housethrough the plantation in front of it. The mansion appeared all indarkness, but while he looked he was surprised to see a light appear inthe upper portion of the house which was visible from the road. He wentthrough the carriage gates with the intention of getting a closer view ofthe house. As he walked along he heard a quick footstep on the gravelwalk behind him, and he slipped into the plantation. Looking out frombehind a tree he could discern the figure of a man walking quicklytowards the house. As he drew near him the man paused, struck a match andlooked at his watch, and he saw that it was Mr. Holymead. Witness'ssuspicions in regard to a trap having been laid for Birchill werestrengthened, and he decided to ascertain what was in the wind. He creptthrough the plantation to the edge of the garden in front of the house.From there he could hear voices in a room upstairs. He tried to make outwhat was being said, but he was too far away for that. In about half anhour the voices stopped, and a minute later a man came out of the houseand walked down the path through the garden, and entered the carriagedrive close to where witness was concealed in the plantation. As hepassed him witness saw that it was Mr. Holymead.

  About five minutes afterwards the window upstairs in the room where thevoices had come from was opened, and Sir Horace Fewbanks leaned out andlooked at the sky as if to ascertain what sort of a night it was. He wasquite certain that it was Sir Horace Fewbanks. He was well acquaintedwith that gentleman's features, having been sentenced by him three yearsago. Sir Horace seemed quite calm and collected. Witness was so surprisedto see him, after having been told by Birchill that he was in Scotland,that he did not take his eyes off him during the two or three minutesthat he remained at the window, breathing the night air. Sir Horace wasfully dressed. He had on a light tweed suit, and he was wearing a softshirt of a light colour, with a stiff collar, and a small black bow tie.When Sir Horace closed the window witness jumped over the fence back intothe wood and made his way to the Hampstead Tube station with theintention of warning Birchill that Sir Horace Fewbanks was at home. Hewaited at the station over an hour, and as he did not see Birchill hethen made his way home. During the time he was in the garden atRiversbrook listening to the voices, he heard no sound of a shot. He wascertain that no shot had been fired inside the house from the time theprisoner entered the house until he left. Had a shot been fired witnesscould not have failed to hear it.

  There could be no doubt that the effect produced in court by the evidenceof the witness was extremely favourable to the prisoner. Kemp had told aplain, straightforward story. The fact that he had shown no reluctance indisclosing in his evidence that he was a criminal and the associate ofcriminals seemed to add to the credibility of his evidence. It was feltthat he would not have come to court to swear falsely on behalf of a manwho was so far removed from the class to which he belonged.

  While Kemp was giving his evidence, Crewe had despatched a messenger tohis chambers in Holborn for Joe. When the boy returned with the messengerKemp was still in the witness-box, undergoing an examination at the handsof the judge. Sir Henry Hodson seemed to have been impressed by thewitness's story, for he asked Kemp a number of questions, and entered hisanswers in his notebook.

  "Joe," whispered Crewe, as the boy stole noiselessly behind him, "look atthat man in the witness-box. Have you ever seen him before?"

  "Rayther, guv'nor!" whispered the boy in reply. "Why, it's 'im who triedto frighten me in the loft if I didn't promise to give up watching Mr.Holymead."

  "You are quite certain, Joe?"

  "Certain sure, guv'nor. There ain't no charnst of me mistaking a manlike that."

  Crewe listened intently to Kemp's evidence, and he watched the man's faceas he swore that he had seen Sir Horace Fewbanks leaning out of thewindow after Holymead had left the house. He hastily took out a notebook,scribbled a few lines on one of the leaves, tore it out, and beckoned toa court usher.

  "Take that to Mr. Walters," he whispered.

  The man did so. Mr. Walters opened the note, adjusted his glasses andread it. He started with surprise, read the note through again, thenturned round as though in search of the writer. When he saw Crewe heraised his eyebrows interrogatively, and the detective noddedemphatically.

  Mr. Lethbridge sat down, having finished his examination of Kemp. Mr.Walters, with another glance at Crewe's note, rose slowly in his place.

  "I ask Your Honour that I may be allowed to defer until the morning mycross-examination of this witness," he said. "I am, of course, in YourHonour's hands in this matter, but I can assure Your Honour that it isdesirable--highly desirable--in the interests of justice that thecross-examination of the witness should be postponed."

  "I protest, Your Honour, against the cross-examination of the witnessbeing deferred," said Mr. Lethbridge. "There is no justification of it."

  "I would urge Your Honour to accede to my request," said Mr. Walters. "Itis a matter of the utmost importance."

  "Is your next witness available, Mr. Lethbridge?" asked the judge.

  "Surely, Your Honour, you're not going to allow the cross-examination ofthis witness to be postponed?" protested Mr. Lethbridge. "My learnedfriend has given no reason for such a course."

  Sir Henry Hodson looked at the court clock.

  "It is now within a quarter of an hour of the ordinary time foradjournment," he began. "I think the fairest way out of the difficultywill be to adjourn the court now until to-morrow morning."

  There was a loud buzz of conversation when the court adjourned. Afterasking Chippenfield and Rolfe to wait for him, Crewe made his way to Mr.Walters, and, after a few whispered words with that gentleman, Mr.Mathers, his junior, and Mr. Salter, the instructing solicitor, hereturned to Chippenfield and Rolfe and asked them to accompany him in ataxi-cab to Riversbrook.

  "What do you want to go out there for?" asked InspectorChippenfield. "You don't expect to discover anything there this latein the day, do you?"

  "I want to find out whether this man Kemp is lying or telling the truth."

  "Of course he is lying," replied the positive police official. "Whenyou've had as much experience with criminals as I have had, Mr. Crewe,you won't expect a word of truth from any of them."

  "Well, let us go to Riversbrook and prove that he is lying," said Crewe.

  "We'll go with you," said Inspector Chippenfield, speaking for Rolfe andhimself. He did not understand how Crewe expected to obtain any evidenceat Riversbrook about the truth or falsity of Kemp's story, but he did notintend to admit that. "But you can set your mind at rest. No jury willbelieve Kemp after we've given them his record in cross-examination."

  Rolfe, whose association with Crewe in the case had awakened in him akeen admiration for the private detective's methods and abilities,permitted himself to defy his superior officer to the extent ofsaying that "the best way to prove Kemp a liar is to prove that hisstory is false."

  During the drive to Hampstead from the Old Bailey the three men discussedKemp and his past record. It was recalled that less than twelve monthsago, while he was serving three years for burglary, his daughter hadprovided the newspapers with a sensation by dying in the dock whilesentence was being passed on her. According to Inspector Chippenfield,who had been in charge of the case against her, she was a stylish,goo
d-looking girl, and when dressed up might easily have been mistakenfor a lady.

  "She got in touch with a flash gang of railway thieves from America,"said Inspector Chippenfield, helping himself to a cigar from Crewe'sproffered case. "They used to work the express trains, robbing thepassengers in the sleeping berths. She was neatly caught at VictoriaStation in calling for a dressing-case that had been left at the cloakroom by one of the gang. Inside the dressing-case was Lady Sinclair'sjewel case, which had been stolen on the journey up from Brighton. Thethief, being afraid that he might be stopped at Victoria Station when theloss of the jewel case was discovered, had placed it inside hisdressing-case, and had left the dressing-case at the cloak room. He sentDora Kemp for it a few days later, as he believed he had outwitted thepolice. But I'd got on to the track of the jewels, and after removingthem from the dressing-case in the cloak room I had the cloak roomwatched. When Dora Kemp called for the dressing-case and handed in thecloakroom ticket, the attendant gave my men the signal and she wasarrested."

  "She died of heart disease while on trial, didn't she?" asked Crewe.

  "Yes," replied Inspector Chippenfield. "Sir Horace Fewbanks was thejudge. He gave her five years. And no sooner were the words out of hismouth than she threw up her hands and fell forward in the dock. She wasdead when they picked her up."

  "She was as game as they make them," put in Rolfe. "We tried to get herto give the others away, but she wouldn't, though she would have got offwith a few months if she had. The gang got frightened and cleared out.They left her in the lurch, but she wouldn't give one of them away."

  "It was Holymead who defended her," said Chippenfield. "It was a strangething for him to do--leading barristers don't like touching criminalcases, because, as a rule, there is little money and less credit to begot out of them. But Holymead did some queer things at times, as youknow. He must have taken up the case out of interest in the girl herself,for I'm certain she hadn't the money to brief him. And I did hearafterwards that Holymead undertook to see that she was decently buried."

  "Why, that explains it!" exclaims Crewe, in the voice of a man who hadsolved a difficulty.

  "Explains what?" asked Inspector Chippenfield.

  "Explains why her father has taken the risk of coming forward in thiscase to give evidence for Holymead. Gratitude for what Holymead had donefor his girl while he was in prison. My experience of criminals is thatthey frequently show more real gratitude to those who do them a good turnthan people in a respectable walk of life. Besides, you know what asentimental value people of his class attach to seeing their kin burieddecently. If Holymead hadn't come forward the girl would have been buriedas a pauper, in all probability."

  "But I don't see that old Kemp is taking much risk," said InspectorChippenfield. "He is only perjuring himself, and he is too used to thatto regard it as a risk."

  "Don't you think he will be in an awkward position if the jury were toacquit Holymead?" asked Crewe. "One jury has already said that Sir HoraceFewbanks was dead when Birchill broke into the house, and if this jurybelieves Kemp's story and says Sir Horace was alive when Holymead leftit, don't you think Kemp will conclude that it will be best for him todisappear? Some one must have killed Sir Horace after Holymead left, andbefore Birchill arrived."

  "Whew! I never thought of that," said Rolfe candidly.

  "Kemp is a liar from first to last," said Inspector Chippenfielddecisively.