“I thought of everyone else in the place almost. Oxley, Tarkington, Emerson and several others; even Kent I considered. But there wasn’t a shred of evidence against any of them. The only other real alternative to Roper is the burglars—the gang who have been operating for some months past. But here again Roper’s conduct comes in. If Roper wasn’t guilty he wouldn’t have acted as he did.”
The chief constable smoked in silence for some moments.
“I think all you say is very sound. Now just run over the case against Roper and I shall try to pick holes.”
“First, sir, there was the man’s character; vindictive, unscrupulous, a blackmailer, and as well as that a skilful forger. Admittedly this description came from Philpot, but all that could be shown to outsiders was confirmed by the sergeant and many others at Kintilloch. Roper was the only other person we knew of, other than the burglar gang, who had the character and the ability to commit the crime.”
“Not convincing, but go on.”
“Not convincing alone, no doubt; but it does not stand alone. Secondly, there was the getting of Miss Averill out of the way; thirdly, there was the Whymper episode, and fourthly, the matter of Giles’ funeral.”
“That’s all right except that when we find Giles’ body was not burned the whole case falls to the ground.”
French threw the stub of his cigar into the fire.
“Don’t you believe it, sir. None of what I have been saying falls to the ground. Though I admit the motive of this Giles business is not clear, the facts remain and their significance remains. I don’t now follow all Roper’s scheme, but I still believe he is our man.”
Major Valentine nodded decisively.
“So do I, French, and we shall get him all right. Then you’ve no theory of where the third body came from?”
“I believe Roper enticed some other poor devil to the house and murdered him also. I think, sir, we’ll have to try again to find out if anyone disappeared about that time.”
“I’ll see to it, but I’m not hopeful of doing better than before.”
Major Valentine showed signs of breaking up the conference, but French raised his hand.
“A moment, sir, if you please. I was thinking that this inquest gives us a chance that perhaps we should take advantage of. No more of those notes have come through. What, sir, would you say was the reason for that?’
“Well, if we’re right about Roper being alive, I suppose because he’s afraid.”
“That’s what I think. And this business will make him still more afraid. Now I wonder if we couldn’t set his mind at ease for him.”
“I don’t quite follow.”
“Why, this way. Suppose that I was very frank in my evidence—very frank and open and comprehensive. Suppose that I should tell about the notes; about their numbers having been taken, and about the one turning up in London, and robbery being thereby suspected and my being sent down to investigate. Suppose I explained that I had succeeded in tracing that note and had found that-it had been given by Mr. Averill to a friend, and that the whole transaction was perfectly in order. But suppose I conveyed that only the numbers of the last batch of notes—say, twenty twenties—were known. Wouldn’t that do the trick?”
“You mean that if the numbers of only twenty notes were known, Roper would feel safe in changing the others?”
“Quite so. Furthermore, if nothing was said about the ashes being newspaper he would think that the suspicion of robbery had been dispelled by the discovery that the note passed in London was all right.”
“It’s worth trying. If he rises of it you’ll get him.”
“Right, sir. Then I’ll advise the coroner beforehand. Or perhaps you would do so?”
“I’ll do it. Well, I must be getting home. I’m glad to have had this talk and I hope your scheme will meet with success.”
Next morning the inquest opened and formal evidence of identification of the remains of the late Markham Giles was taken. The proceedings were then adjourned for seven days to enable the police to prosecute inquiries.
CHAPTER XV
FRENCH BAITS HIS TRAP
That day of the week was a red-letter day in the history of Thirsby. The story of French’s discoveries, by this time common property, had created an absolute furore in the little town. Never had such a series of tragedies and thrills disturbed its placid existence. Never had interest risen to such fever heat. It was therefore not surprising that every available seat in the court-house was occupied long before the hour of the adjourned inquest, and that a queue of eager, pushing people, unable to gain admittance, stretched away in a long column from its door. But the police had seen to it that all who were particularly interested in the tragedy had obtained places. In the row usually reserved for barristers sat Oxley with Ruth Averill; who had been summoned to attend as a witness, and Mrs. Oxley, who looked on the girl as her charge and insisted on accompanying her. Whymper, now an accepted lover, sat next Ruth, and behind were Tarkington, Bloxham, Emerson, Philpot and the police doctor, Lingard. Major Valentine and French were together in the seat usually occupied by the clerk of the Crown, while Kent, looking harassed and anxious, was standing in the body of the court, fumbling with a sheaf of papers and whispering to his subordinates.
The coroner was that same Dr. Lonsdale who had acted in a similar capacity some nine weeks earlier when the inquiry into the death of the three victims of the Starvel fire had taken place. He also seemed worried, as if he feared the elucidation of these mysterious happenings might try his powers beyond their capacity.
The preliminaries having been gone through already, the coroner began to take evidence immediately, and Dr. Emerson was called.
“You attended the late Mr. Markham Giles?” the coroner asked when he had obtained the other’s name and qualifications.
“I attended him up till five years ago, when Dr. Philpot took over the case. Owing to Dr. Philpot’s being ill at the time of his death I was again called in.”
“For what complaint did you formerly attend the deceased?”
“Myocarditis. It was a disease of some years’ standing.”
“Myocarditis is heart disease, isn’t it? Was the deceased badly affected?”
“Five years ago, fairly badly. I have no doubt that at the time of his death he was much worse, as the disease is incurable and progressive.”
“We can no doubt get that from Dr. Philpot. When did you hear of Mr. Giles’ death, Dr. Emerson?”
“On Wednesday morning, 15th September.”
“Who told you of it?”
“John Roper, the Starvel man-servant.”
“Did you go out to Starvel and examine the body?”
“Yes, I did, after first consulting Dr. Philpot on the case.”
“Oh, you saw Dr. Philpot. And what was the result of your consultation?”
“Dr. Philpot told me that Mr. Giles had developed influenza, and that he had seen him on Thursday. He was very weak and Dr. Philpot did not expect him to get over it.”
“Then you examined the body?”
“Yes, I went out to Starvel immediately.”
“And what opinion did you then form as to the cause of death?”
“I believed it to be myocarditis.”
“And you gave a certificate to that effect?”
“I did.”
“Did you make any specific examination of the remains on which you based your opinion?”
“Yes, so far as it was possible without a post-mortem.”
“And you were quite satisfied that you had made no mistake?”
“I was quite satisfied.”
“That will do in the meantime. Please do not go away, Dr. Emerson, as I may have some further questions to put to you later.”
Dr. Philpot was then called. He corroborated the evidence of the last witness in so far as it concerned himself. He had attended Mr. Giles during the past five years. Deceased was suffering from myocarditis, which had become worse and of which he mig
ht have died at any moment. On the Thursday prior to his death witness had been informed by Roper, Mr. Averill’s man-servant, that deceased seemed rather seriously ill, and he went out to see him. Deceased was feeble and witness believed that he was very near his end. Witness did not think he could live more than three or four days. When he heard of his death it was only what he had expected.
Ruth Averill was the next witness. She was nervous, but the sergeant was deferential to her and the coroner fatherly and kind. Her evidence was soon over. In answer to a number of questions she deposed that she had known Mr. Giles fairly well and had been to sit with him on different occasions during his illness. On the Tuesday of that tragic week she had left Starvel to pay a short visit to York, and on her way into Thirsby she had called to see him. He had seemed very weak and frail. He could scarcely speak. Ruth had spent about ten minutes with him and had then driven on to Thirsby. She had never seen him again.
A number of persons were then called relative to the funeral. The clerk from the Town Hall who dealt with interments, the caretaker of the new cemetery, the undertaker and such of his men as had assisted, gave evidence in turn. The coroner was extremely detailed in his questions, and when he had finished the whole history of the sad affair stood revealed, with the exception of one point.
This was Roper’s false statement to the undertaker that the body required to be coffined without delay. It had been decided that nothing must leak out connecting the death of Giles with Starvel, and it spoke volumes for the coroner’s skill that he was able to obtain the other details of the interment while keeping Roper’s duplicity secret.
From the united testimony given it seemed that Markham Giles had died at some time during the Tuesday night. Roper had stated to more than one witness that Mrs. Roper had gone out to see him about eight o’clock on that evening, when she found him weak, but fairly easy and showing no sign of any early collapse. About nine the next morning, Wednesday, she went over again, to find that the man had been dead for some hours. Mr. Giles was lying in the same position as he had occupied on the previous evening, and from the peaceful expression on his face it looked as if he had passed away painlessly. Mrs. Roper had gone back for her husband, who had returned with her to the cottage. There they had done what they could, and Roper had then gone into Thirsby and made arrangements for the funeral. First he had reported the death to Dr. Emerson. Then he had called at the Town Hall and purchased a grave, going on to the new cemetery to see the site. Lastly, he had visited the undertaker, arranging the details of the funeral.
The undertaker had known Mr. Giles, and later on that day, the Wednesday, he had sent out two men with a coffin which he believed would be of the right size. His estimate had proved correct and the men had placed the remains in the coffin, screwing down the lid and leaving all ready for the funeral.
On the second day, the Friday, the interment took place. The same men who had coffined the remains lifted the coffin into the hearse, and they declared that they saw no signs of the screws having been tampered with or of the presence of any person in the house during their absence. The funeral was conducted in the customary manner, and when the grave had been filled none of those who had been present imagined that anything out of the common had taken place. Roper had paid all the bills in advance, saying that the deceased had had a premonition of his death and had handed him the sum of fifteen pounds to meet the expenses.
French was the next witness. The coroner had been carefully primed as to his evidence also, and asked only general questions.
“Now, Mr. French, you made some unexpected discoveries about this matter?”
“I did, sir.”
“Will you please tell the jury in your own words the nature of these discoveries and how you came to make them.”
This was French’s opportunity. Speaking respectfully and with an air of the utmost candour, he told very nearly the truth. Deliberately he slightly coloured the facts, coloured them with the object and in the hope that somewhere Roper would read what he had said—and be deceived into coming into the open.
“I was sent here,” he explained, “on a matter arising out of the fire at Starvel. I made certain inquiries and received certain information. As to the truth of the information I cannot of course bear testimony, but I cannot explain the steps I took unless I mention it. With the object of accounting for my actions, sir, is it your wish that I do so?”
“If you please, Mr. French. We quite understand that your actual evidence is confined to matters which came under your own observation. That does not prevent you introducing explanatory matter as to how you got your results.”
“Very good, sir. According to my information the following was the state of affairs which had obtained prior to my being sent down here. The late Mr. Averill had a sum of money amounting to several thousand pounds stored in a safe in his bedroom. This was given in evidence at the inquest on the victims of the Starvel tragedy. It was not then mentioned, but it was the fact—always according to my information—that that money had consisted largely of twenty-pound notes. Mr. Averill was in the habit of sending to the bank the various cheques, dividends and so forth by which he received his income. By his instructions these were cashed and the money was returned to Starvel in the form of twenty-pound notes, which the old gentleman placed with the others in his safe. All these notes were believed to have been destroyed in the fire. But it so happened that the numbers of the last consignment—ten notes, for £200—were taken by the bank teller before the notes were sent out to Starvel, and these notes were reported to the bank’s headquarters as being destroyed. When, therefore, some three weeks after the tragedy one of them turned up in London, questions were asked. Reasons were given for believing that this particular note had been in Mr. Averill’s safe at Starvel on the night of the fire, so the suggestion at once arose that the fire was not an accident, but a deliberate attempt to hide a crime of murder and burglary. I was sent down to investigate the affair, and I may say that I found out who had passed the note and satisfied myself beyond question that he had received it in a legitimate manner, and that all his actions were perfectly correct and in order. It followed, therefore, that the finding of the note did not in reality support any theory of crime such as had been put forward.”
While French was speaking the proverbial pin could have been heard, had any one tried the experiment of dropping it in the court-house. He had, to put it mildly, the ear of his audience. Every one listened, literally, with bated breath. Though it was vaguely known that he was a detective working on the Starvel case, the story that he himself had circulated had been generally accepted; that he was employed on behalf of certain insurance companies to ascertain the cause of the outbreak. To find that the pleasant-spoken, easy-going stranger whom the townspeople had almost begun to accept as one of themselves, was none other than a full-fledged inspector from Scotland Yard, investigating what had been at first suspected to be a triple murder of an unusually terrible and sinister kind, was a discovery so thrilling as completely to absorb the attention of all.
“While engaged in clearing up the Starvel affair,” French went on, “a hint was conveyed to me that I was working on the wrong case: that if I wanted a real mystery I should drop what I was at and turn my attention to the death and burial, particularly the burial, of Mr. Giles. With your permission, sir, I do not feel at liberty to mention the source from which this hint came. It was very vague, but we men from the Yard are taught to pick up vague hints. I thought over the matter for some days before I guessed what might be meant. Could Mr. Giles’ coffin have been used as a hiding place for stolen goods? I knew, of course, of the many burglaries which had taken place in the surrounding country during the last six months. I knew also that if burglars wished to hide their swag, no better place could be devised than a coffin. There it would be safe until the hue and cry had died down, and from there it could be recovered when desired. If this theory were true, the gang of burglars would either have heard of Mr. Giles’ de
ath and used the circumstances to their advantage, or they would have arranged the circumstances by murdering him. In either case they would have taken the remains from the coffin, buried them somewhere close by, and replaced them with the stolen articles.”
French paused and a wave of movement swept over the crowded assembly as its members changed their cramped positions. Seldom had the public had such a treat and they were not going to miss any of it. There was an instantaneous stiffening to concentrated attention as French resumed:—
“After careful consideration I thought the matter serious enough to warrant action. I therefore obtained an order to open the grave, and there I found that my suspicions were well founded. There was no body in the coffin, but on the other hand there was no swag. The coffin was half-full of earth. But this did not of course invalidate the theory I have outlined. It only meant that if that theory were true we were late; that at some time within the past nine weeks the burglars had visited the churchyard and removed the stuff. This might or might not have happened.”
Again French paused and this time the coroner remarked quietly:—
“And then, Mr. French?”
“Then, sir, I returned to the gentleman’s cottage and made a further investigation. Eventually I found traces of yellow clay lying about. All the soil in the district is dark, but at the grave I had noticed that a layer of dark soil covered a bed of similar yellow clay. So I dug a hole and found, as I expected, that this bed of clay extended under the moor also. It therefore seemed certain that someone had dug a hole in the vicinity, and on searching the moor I found the place. I took Sergeant Kent and a constable out, and the three of us re-opened the hole and found the body just as these gentlemen”—indicating the jury with a gesture—“have seen it.”
The police made no attempt to subdue the buzz of repressed though excited conversation which arose as French ceased speaking. The coroner was still laboriously writing down French’s statement, but he soon laid his pen down and spoke.
Inspector French and the Starvel Tragedy Page 20
