“Can you tell us what you found in each case?”
“I examined the contents of the decanter first. So far as my analysis goes, it contained nothing but ordinary whisky.”
“There was no trace of cyanide in it?”
“None whatever. The liquid was quite innocuous.”
“Then obviously the deceased could not have met his death by drinking from that decanter?”
“No. That is quite impossible.”
“Now with regard to the contents of the tumbler, Mr. Shuttleboard, what did your examination bring to fight?”
“The contents of the tumbler submitted to me amounted to about a dessert-spoonful of liquid. On examination it proved to be mainly whisky similar to that found in the decanter. But in addition to the whisky, I found a certain quantity of the drug paraldehyde.”
“How much paraldehyde would you estimate to have been present assuming the tumbler had originally been half-full of whisky and soda?”
“I should say that some eight drachms may have been present in the ordinary quantity of whisky and soda that a man would pour out.”
“Can you tell the jury the usual dose of this drug?”
“I believe that anything between half a drachm and two drachms is used.”
“Can you inform the jury of the effects of this drug?”
“It is usually employed as a narcotic.”
“Has it any marked taste—I mean could a man swallow it without knowing it was present in a liquid?”
“When pure, it has a very biting taste, irritating the mucous membrane of the mouth and tongue; but taken in whisky I think its presence might easily escape notice. A man taking a long drink of whisky and soda might quite well fail to perceive it until he had drunk a large quantity.”
“You say it is a narcotic. Is it rapid in its action?”
“Very rapid indeed when taken in large doses.”
“Have you ever heard of it being used for criminal purposes?”
“I have heard it connected with the so-called K.O.—‘knock-out drops’—used by some criminals to drug their victims for the purpose of robbery.”
“Is it ever used by persons suffering from insomnia apart from a physician’s prescription?”
“I believe it is. I have used it myself at times.”
“Would you attribute the deceased’s death to the presence of this drug in his drinking tumbler?”
“No. I doubt if it was present in sufficient quantity.”
“Did you find any traces of it in the stomach contents?”
“I found some of it, enough to show that he had certainly swallowed some of the contents of the tumbler.”
“You do not attribute any share in his death to this drug?”
“Certainly not. I believe that the symptoms noted in the post-mortem examination pointed to cyanide poisoning.”
“Now, Mr. Shuttleboard, would you tell us what you found in the wide-mouthed bottle submitted to you.”
“It contained 427 grains of cyanide of potassium.”
“Was the bottle large enough to have contained much more of this substance?”
“The bottle was a four-ounce bottle, so that it might, if full, have held another three ounces of the cyanide. I should doubt, however, if it contained as much as that?”
“Can you give us your reasons for that statement?”
“The bottle submitted to me was of a well-known pattern used by entomologists for killing butterflies and moths. When used for this purpose, it is never filled with cyanide, as space has to be left for putting the moth into the bottle to kill it. I believe the deceased was a butterfly collector; and I suspect that this was his killing-bottle. In that case, it would only be partially full of cyanide.”
“Then the cyanide found by you in the stomach contents might have come from this bottle?”
“Yes.”
“And the quantity found by you in the stomach would approximate to the quantity missing from this bottle, assuming the bottle originally to have contained a usual amount of cyanide?”
“That is so.”
“I am sorry to repeat questions, Mr. Shuttleboard, but I wish the jury to be absolutely clear upon this point. Death, you believe, was produced by a dose of cyanide?”
“Yes.”
“The other drug—the paraldehyde in the tumbler—had nothing to do with the death, though it must have been swallowed at an earlier period than the cyanide?”
“That is my belief.”
“The quantity of cyanide found by you, if replaced in the so-called killing-bottle, would bring the total quantity of cyanide there up to the normal quantity of cyanide usually found in a killing-bottle?”
“That is my estimate.”
The Colonel had been watching the witness carefully; but his attention was now diverted by a shadow passing across the window. He glanced up and saw the great vacant moon-face of Sappy Morton peering through the glass, as though fascinated by the spectacle of the proceedings.
“Poor devil,” thought the Colonel. “I wonder what he makes of it all. The ways of ordinary humanity must be puzzling to Sappy at times. Here are a lot of people sitting down at a dinner-table, with nothing on it except some odd scraps of stuff, obviously quite uneatable. He must think we’re a rum lot—quite mad.”
But Bolam had evidently noticed Sappy’s presence at the window; and, at a gesture from the constable, the idiot recoiled sharply and disappeared.
“Now,” continued the coroner, “perhaps you would be good enough to tell us the nature of the contents of this last bottle which was submitted to you.”
He held up a four-ounce medicine-bottle as he spoke.
“That is the bottle which was submitted to me. I analysed the contents and found that they corresponded with the name written on the label: ‘Paraldehyde.’ I applied the usual tests and I found nothing there except that drug.”
The coroner indicated that he had no further questions to put; and the witness withdrew. Constable Bolam was recalled.
“On information received, I instituted a search for a bottle of paraldehyde among the effects of the deceased man. No bottle of this kind was found in the room in which his body was found; but on the wash-hand stand in his bedroom I found a number of bottles, among which was this one, labelled ‘Paraldehyde’ which I now identify. I passed this bottle to the coroner in accordance with his instructions.”
Bolam clicked his heels together and returned to his seat. The coroner indicated that he had forwarded the bottle to the analytical expert; and then proceeded to recall Leake.
“Do you remember seeing this bottle on the wash-hand stand in the deceased’s bedroom at any time before his death?”
The butler took up the bottle, examined it carefully for a few moments, and then shook his head.
“No, I can’t say that I recall it particularly. But it might easily have escaped my notice. I had nothing to do with the deceased’s bedroom, except that occasionally he asked me to valet him. I remember that he had a large number of bottles on his wash-hand stand—hair washes, mouth washes and things of that sort. He seemed to have a fad for things of that sort; and there were a good many bottles on the stand.”
“Was there any other place where this bottle might have been kept usually?”
“The deceased had a medicine cupboard fitted up in the bathroom. He kept a good many drugs there. His digestion was very poor; and he was always tinkering with drugs.”
“Did the deceased, to your knowledge, ever suffer from sleeplessness?”
“I could not say. He sat up late at times, but I could not take it upon myself to say that he was a victim to insomnia.”
“Had you any reason to suppose that the deceased was a drug-taker—I mean a man addicted to the immoderate use of narcotics?”
“No, I have no knowledge on the point.”
“That will do.”
Leake retired to his seat. The coroner turned to Bolam.
“Call Eleanor Shore.”
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br /> This was a new name to Colonel Sanderstead; and he turned with interest to see who the witness was. He recognized her, after a glance, as one of the Swaythling Court maids. The girl was obviously very nervous; and the coroner proceeded to help her in her evidence by putting questions.
“You were employed by the deceased for some time before his death?”
“I was.”
“Part of your duties was to look after his bedroom?”
“Yes.”
“When you set his wash-hand stand in order daily you must have handled the bottles which he seems to have kept standing on it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you recognize this particular bottle?”
“It’s just a bottle.”
“Did you ever see it on the wash-hand stand?”
“I can’t remember it. One bottle’s very like another.”
“Did you ever read the labels on the bottles?”
“No.”
“You had no curiosity in the matter?”
“No.”
“Then this bottle may have been there without your noticing it?”
“Yes.”
“You know that the deceased had a medicine cabinet fitted up in the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever see this bottle in that cabinet?”
“No, he always kept that cabinet locked.”
“Then this bottle might have been there without your knowledge?”
“Yes.”
“That will do.”
Eleanor Shore escaped with evident relief.
“Call Henry Wood Bottesford.”
This was another new name to the Colonel.
“My name is Henry Wood Bottesford. I am employed by the Syndicated Drug Shops, Ltd. This bottle bears the label of that firm, with the word ‘Paraldehyde’ also printed in addition to the firm’s name.”
“From your knowledge of that firm’s methods, can you say if it would be possible to trace the purchaser of that bottle?”
“It would be quite impossible. Paraldehyde requires no prescription in order to get a supply. This bottle might have been sold over the counter of any of our branches.”
“How many branches has your firm?”
“Sixty-seven, scattered up and down the country.”
“And this might have been bought at any of them?”
“Yes.”
“Have you the name of the deceased on the books of your firm in this connection?”
“No. But if this drug had been bought over the counter for cash there would be no entry in our books. It is not on the poison schedule which requires the customer’s signature.”
The coroner took up another line of inquiry.
“Potassium cyanide is a scheduled poison?”
“Yes.”
“Have you any knowledge that the deceased purchased that substance?”
“Yes. His signature is written in this book. Here is the page.”
“What book is that?”
“It comes from the Micheldean Abbas branch of my firm.”
“That proves, then, that the deceased purchased a quantity of this poison last month?”
“Yes.”
“Can you suggest why he required a fresh supply? He had been using the substance in killing-bottles before that.”
“Potassium cyanide is gradually attacked by exposure to air, and loses its potency; so that sooner or later he would need to renew his supply.”
The coroner dismissed the witness and turned to address the jury:
“Gentlemen, I think that the fresh evidence which we have had before us to-day has cleared up the matter very considerably. It may, perhaps, be of some utility to you if I summarize the main points which have been brought out in the course of the examination of these various witnesses.
“In the first place, the cause of death is now perfectly clear. You have heard the evidence of the analytical expert which establishes beyond question that the body of the deceased contained a super-dose of one of the most formidable poisons known to science. No man could possibly have lived for even a short time with such a quantity of this poison in his system. The only other drug which has come under our notice is this narcotic, paraldehyde; and, as you have heard, it is not a compound which is legally restricted in its sale, since it is not dangerous in ordinary doses. You may leave it out of consideration, so far as its poisonous character is concerned in this case. As you heard, we are not able to determine whether or not the deceased was addicted to the use of this narcotic; but in any case, paraldehyde had nothing to do with the actual death of the deceased man.
“As to potassium cyanide, you have heard evidence which proves that quite recently the deceased purchased a quantity of this poison. He had it in his possession; and we know that some of this substance was found in a bottle on his desk beside his body.
“It is therefore established that the deceased had the poison and that, further, he had it beside him when he died. The question which you have to put to yourselves and to answer in your verdict is: ‘Did he administer the poison to himself, or was it administered to him by someone else?’ And if you decide that it was administered by someone else, you must make up your mind whether that person is known to you or is some person unknown.
“In considering that question, you may have to take into consideration the fact that the deceased was threatened with exposure of his blackmailing practices. He knew that his criminal career was about to become public property; and that if he were convicted, he might have to undergo a long term of imprisonment. It is for you to consider whether that fact has any bearing on the manner of his death. You will weigh the possibility that these circumstances may indicate a motive for the taking of the poison, if it were self-administered—it may have been a last act of desperation on his part. That is a matter for you to settle according to your own satisfaction.
“You will not fail to bear in mind that the deceased, as a butterfly hunter, kept one or more of these so-called killing-bottles at hand. One of them was found beside the body. And you have heard the evidence of the chemical expert which goes to prove that the quantity of cyanide swallowed by the deceased is approximately the amount which is missing from this particular bottle, assuming it to have contained the amount of cyanide usually present in bottles of that sort.
“You must dismiss from your minds anything connected with the wound of which we heard so much on the previous day of this inquiry. That wound, you will remember, was shown to have been inflicted after death; and it therefore should play no part in your deliberations, which are to be devoted exclusively to the question of the manner of this death.
“As to your verdict, you should state in it what you find to be the cause of death and also, if necessary, add a clause stating whether the deceased voluntarily caused his own death. If there is any point upon which you desire information, this is the time to bring it forward.”
Simon had sat silent during the whole of the proceedings up to this point; but he availed himself of the coroner’s offer at once. Heaving himself ponderously out of his chair he put a question:
“There is one matter on which I think the jury are dissatisfied—at least, one member is. How does it come that although James Leigh was one of the last people—if not actually the last person—to see the deceased alive, we have had no evidence from him at all? Why has he not been called before us like everybody else?”
The coroner, ignoring Simon pointedly, turned to the rest of the jury:
“Gentlemen, I should inform you that we had the intention of calling James Leigh as a witness in this inquiry. It was found, however, that he has left Fernhurst Parva; and on inquiry we learned that he furnished no address, nor did he give any indication by means of which he could be put in communication with us. We have done our best to secure his attendance here; but we have been unable to find him. The matter is of little real importance; for the evidence of the housekeeper at the Bungalow covers the period about which James Leigh co
uld have testified. Should you desire a further adjournment of this inquiry until James Leigh can be found, I have no objection; but unless there is any real demand on the part of the jury for this course, I think that we have sufficient evidence before us to enable you to arrive at your verdict. The medical evidence, as you will remember, indicated midnight or thereabouts as the time of death. But long before midnight the deceased had left the Bungalow, had returned home to this house, and had rung up his clerk. I fail to see how James Leigh’s evidence could throw any particular light on the stage of the affair—the crucial stage—which mainly concerns us here, since that stage was reached at least an hour after James Leigh saw the deceased for the last time.”
At the suggestion of a further adjournment, most of the jury showed by their expressions that this was the last thing they desired. One or two of them even summoned up enough courage to murmur protests in undertones; and their glances in Simon’s direction were anything but friendly. The coroner had no difficulty in interpreting the general feeling:
“Very good, gentlemen. I take it that you wish to consider your verdict now. If you will withdraw to another room and discuss the matter, we shall be ready for you on your return.”
While the members of the jury were filing out of the room, Cyril Norton came across to Colonel Sanderstead.
“Suppose we go out and smoke a cigarette while they’re talking it over? Or several cigarettes—they may take a while to argue it out among them.”
The Colonel agreed; and together they went out to the front of the house.
“Well, what do you make of it?” demanded Cyril, when they had passed out of earshot of the waiting chauffeurs.
Past experience had made the Colonel rather chary of taking his nephew into his confidence in the matter of his theories. Before answering, he flicked the ash from his cigarette with meticulous care, as though its removal were of the greatest importance. However, in the end he made up his mind that he could hardly fall into a trap on this occasion: and he put his views into words:
“Suicide, it seems to me. Your letter threatening him with exposure seems to have done the trick; and he lost his nerve. There was the cyanide, ready to his hand; and he hadn’t enough grit to wait and take his gruel. But, even assuming that, there’s one thing that puzzles me badly. What did he want with that other stuff, that drug—what’s its name, paraldehyde or something?”
Death at Swaythling Court Page 13
