“Poiret, he scarcely needs to tell to you,” said Poiret as Haven ended his hour long monologue, “that this is the affair far more intricate than the one of Miss Hutt.”
“Quite, old fellow!” said Haven encouragingly.
“This crime, it is an ordinary one, although very much an atrocious one. The method, it is not complicated, but mon ami, please to observe that for this reason the mystery, it has been considered easy, when for this reason, it should have been considered difficult to resolve. Thus at first it was thought unnecessary to offer the reward. Scotland Yard, they thought they were able at once to comprehend how and why such an atrocity, it might have been committed. They could picture in their mind the how, many how’s and the why, many why’s and because they thought to themselves that one of these numerous how’s and why’s, they would include the correct one, they took it for granted that they would resolve the crime. Poiret, he has before observed that it is by comparing the ordinary with the unique, that reason, it slowly feels her way in her search for the truth and that the correct question in cases such as this one, it is not “what has occurred?” but “what has occurred that has never occurred before?” In their investigations at the house of Miss Hutt, the agents of Scotland Yard, they were discouraged and confounded by the unusualness of the circumstances. To the world class intellect, it would have afforded the surest omen of success. This same world class intellect, it would have been plunged in despair at the ordinariness of the circumstances of the crime against the young woman. Yet it was this that told of nothing but easy triumph to the functionaries of Scotland Yard.”
“But how do we know she didn’t commit suicide?” asked Haven.
“In the case of Miss Hutt there was, even at the beginning of the investigation, no doubt in the mind of Poiret that murder had been committed. Suicide, it was excluded at once. Here, too, we are freed, at the commencement, from all speculation of suicide. The body found in the water, it was found with the knife cuts on the neck. It leaves to us no room for embarrassment on this very important point.”
“But it has been suggested by some in the letters to the editor that the corpse is not that of Catherine Tennant”
Poiret shook his head disapprovingly, “For the purpose of justice, it is indispensable that the first step should necessarily be establishing the identity of the corpse as the Mademoiselle Catherine Tennant who is missing. You, mon ami, should bear in mind that, in general, it is the object of the English newspapers rather to create a sensation than to further the cause of truth. The latter is only pursued when it is coincident with the former. The newspapers which agree with ordinary opinion, however well founded this opinion is, they earn for themselves no credit with the ordinary public. The public, they regard as profound only those, who suggest the opposite of the generally held view. Poiret, he considers it of the lowest order of merit.”
“I say!”
“It is the outrageousness of the idea that Catherine Tennant, she still lives, rather than any true plausibility in this idea, which allows it to appear in the newspaper and it has secured a favorable reception with the public.”
Haven frowned and read, “It is folly to suppose that the murder, if murder was committed on her body, could have been committed soon enough to have enabled her murderers to throw the body into the river before midnight.” Haven looked at Poiret and said, “That sounds reasonable.”
“Mais c’est incroyable!” huffed Poiret, his mustache dancing excitedly, “Pourquoi? Why? Why is it the folly to think that the murder, it was committed soon after the young woman, she left the house? Why is it the folly to think that the murder, it was committed at any period of the day? There have been the murders at all hours of the day and night. Poiret, he protests gravely against this incorrect assumption. The reporter, he assumes that the murder, it was committed at such a location that carrying it to the river, it is necessary. Attention, Haven! The murder, it may have taken place on the shore of the river or on the river itself and thus, the throwing the corpse in the water, it may have been resorted to at any period of the day or night, as it may have been the most immediate manner of disposal.
“All experience has shown that drowned bodies or bodies thrown into the water immediately after death require from six to ten days to bring them to the top of the water.” Haven hesitated. “But,” said Haven, “have there never been bodies, which did surface within five or six days?”
“Mon ami, by suggesting the exceptions to the rule, you implicitly accept the validity of the rule. Poiret, he does not accept without the investigation the validity of the rule. The human body, it is not lighter and also not heavier than the water of the Thames River. The human body, in its natural condition, it is equal to the bulk of fresh water which it displaces. It is correct to say that the human body, it will float and not sink in the river. However, only when the lungs, they are filled with the air. If the mouth and nostrils, they sink beneath the surface, water, it will enter into the lungs. The whole body, it becomes heavier by the difference between the weight of the air in the lungs and that of the water, which now fills them. This difference, it is sufficient to cause the body to sink.”
Haven was silent for a moment then asked, “But why do corpses then rise to the surface?”
“The corpse, mon ami, it will remain at the bottom of the river until, by some means, its gravity again, it becomes less than the bulk of the water, which it displaces. This process, it is brought about by decomposition. Decomposition, it generates the gas in the body. The gas, it expands the cellular tissues and all the cavities in the body, giving the, how do you say, puffed appearance to the corpse in the water, which is so horrible to regard. It is evident that we cannot assign the specific period with accuracy at which the corpse, it will rise through decomposition. Under certain biological conditions it is within one hour and under other conditions it may never rise again.
“But there must be a difference between a drowned body and a body thrown into the water immediately after death by violence,” said Haven more as a question than as a statement of fact.
“The body of a man, who is drowning, it becomes heavier than its bulk of water, because the drowning man, he will struggle, thereby elevate his arms in the air above the surface and he will gasp for breath while his mouth, it is beneath the surface. The gasps, the struggle to breathe, they will allow water to replace the air in the lungs. But these struggles and these gasps, they would not occur in the body, which it is thrown into the water immediately after the death by violence.”
“So in essence, the body found floating in the river is Catherine Tennant,” concluded Haven.
“Haven, please to listen more carefully. Allez, s’il vous plait!” Poiret looked at Haven, half exasperated and half angry. “You say it is. Poiret, he says, there is no reason it is not.”
Haven filled his glass with brandy and said, “Why didn’t they tie a rock to the corpse?”
Poiret didn’t answer. He looked at his own empty glass. After a moment of painful silence Haven understood the epicurist’s silence and offered to fill his glass. The small man with the big appetites gave him a smile in agreement. After filling Poiret’s glass, Haven continued, “If the murderers had tied a rock to the body, the body would have sunk and no one would ever be able to prove a murder had actually happened? She was after all a woman with loose morals and she may have run away with some big spender spending some money on her.”
At this Poiret sprang up, grabbed Haven’s hand and shook it enthusiastically, “Congratulations, mon ami! You have discovered the clue important.”
Haven beamed with pride. Poiret sat back down.
“Your observation, mon cher Haven, it proves the point. Here is the corpse without the weight attached. Murderers, who have planned the murder carefully, throwing the body in the river, they would not have failed to attach the weight.”
As Haven looked through the newspaper article again, his face seemed to light up.
“What of Webster
identifying the young woman by the hair on her arm?”
Poiret stood up slowly, smiling. He raised his hands in front of him. He grabbed both of Haven’s hands, pulled him up and gave him a kiss on each cheek in his inimitable Gallic way.
“Mon ami,” he said, “your observations, they have progressed markedly, this evening.”
He sat down again and said, “No arm, it is without hair. Monsieur Webster, he is not the idiot. He can never urge the identification of the corpse simply by the hair on its arm. He must have spoken of some peculiarity in this hair or the skin under the hair. Had he said her feet, they are small, not one would accept that as sufficient proof of her identity. Many thousands of feet, they are small. Poiret would here observe that much of what, it is rejected as evidence by the police, is the best of evidence to the intellect.”
Poiret pointed at his head.
“Because the police, they are guided by the general principles. This will be proven correct for eighty percent of the cases, but in the cases, which they are not uniform, it causes the error.”
“From experience,” began Haven, Poiret could not help but smile at Haven’s use of this word, “I am not inclined to give Mr. Webster the benefit of the doubt.”
“Poiret, mon ami, in respect to the insinuations levelled at Monsieur Webster, he is willing to dismiss them, how do you say, in a breath. Poiret, he has from the article you have read to him already fathomed the true disposition of this good gentleman. He is the busy-body, with much of romance and little of the intelligence. Anyone so constituted as to be enthusiastically predisposed will readily so conduct himself on occasion as to render himself liable to suspicion on the part of the ill-disposed.”
“But his actions, old fellow, they cannot be explained in a positive light.”
“The suspicious circumstances which invest him, will be found to tally much better with the hypothesis of romantic busy-body than with your suggestion of the guilt. The rose in the keyhole, the “Catherine” on the cardboard, the elbowing of the male relatives out of the way, his determination that nobody should have anything to do with the proceedings except for himself, it leads to the conclusion that seems to Poiret unquestionable and that is that Monsieur Webster, he was the suitor of Mademoiselle Catherine. On her part, Mademoiselle Catherine, she may have only coquetted with him.”
“But what happened then?” Haven here demanded. “Was she attacked by a gang of brutes?”
“Mais pourquoi pas? The newspaper, it intimates that it is impossible that a person so well known in the neighborhood, she should have walked three streets without someone having seen her. Pourquoi? Because she leaves the house at nine o’clock in the morning? At nine o’clock of every morning in the week the streets of the city, they are, it is true, thronged with the people. Except for nine o’clock on Sunday, for then the populace, they are indoors preparing for the church.”
Haven sighed and said dejectedly, “Then the newspapers are right. A group of rogues accosted her as she was walking alone to her aunt’s house. They abducted her, took her to the river and then murdered her. We will never find them.”
“It is a pity, my dear Haven, that you were not born the parrot, for you merely repeat what it is you read in the newspaper, without using the intellect.”
Captain Haven looked up in surprise at his friend, but the detective was feeding seeds to his canaries, Sandy and Melody. After he finished doing so and the two were happily singing their song, he added, “At present we must occupy ourselves with other investigations. You, mon ami, cannot fail to have noticed the extreme laxity of the examination of the corpse. To be sure, the question of identity, it was quickly determined, but there were other points to be found out. Had the body been despoiled? Had the deceased any articles of jewelry about her person on leaving the home? If so, had she any when she was found? These are the important questions utterly untouched.”
“But that is what I said! We will never find out who did it,” said Haven.
“Non, mon ami. We must endeavor to solve this mystery by personal inquiry. The case of Monsieur Swanson, it must be re-examined.”
“So he did do it? I thought so myself!”
“Poiret, he has no reason to suspect this person, but let us proceed methodically. We must find out beyond a doubt his whereabouts on the Sunday. Should there be nothing wrong here, however, we must dismiss Monsieur Swanson from our investigations.”
“I agree. Though if it was Swanson, he should get what he deserves.”
Poiret took one of his cigars and offered Haven one. He lit it and for a while he seemed content smoking his cigar and drinking his expensive brandy. When he began speaking again it seemed as though he was in the middle of a thought.
“The police, they make the error in that they limit their investigations such as this one to the immediate, with total disregard of the circumstantial events. The history of human knowledge, it has shown to us that accidental events, they have given to us the most numerous and the most valuable discoveries. Therefore Poiret, he suggests we divert our inquiry from the trodden and hitherto unfruitful ground of the ordinary event itself to the unusual circumstances which they surround it.”
The midnight hour had struck by now and Haven knew Poiret would either indicate he wished to go to sleep or he would ask his manservant Beauchant to serve supper. It was an indication of the fascination the case held for him that Poiret pulled the rope hanging next to the fireplace two times. One time meant, “Bring me something to drink.” Two tugs on the rope meant, “Bring me something to eat.” Depending on the hour of the day or the circumstances, his manservant would know what to serve. Three tugs meant, “Come and ask me what I need.”
As Poiret was giving Beauchant detailed instructions for supper, Haven, who was reading the evening paper, shook his head and whistled. This disturbed Poiret’s concentration and he looked at Haven, annoyed and said, “Dear Haven, a whistle like the one you have only now let out, it must necessarily have the meaning.”
Haven explained, “Sorry, old boy. I was reading the paper.”
“And what is it saying that demands the whistling at midnight?”
“Oh, it says here, “About half a year ago Catherine Tennant disappeared from the pub of Mr. Simkins in Berner Street, where she was working. She had been in his employ for about a year, when her admirers were thrown into confusion by her sudden disappearance from the establishment. Mr. Simkins was unable to account for her absence and Mrs. Tennant did not respond to queries as she was distracted with anxiety and terror. The police had almost but decided to begin a formal investigation, when one fine morning, after she had been gone for two weeks, Catherine, in good health, but somewhat saddened, made her re-appearance at the pub. All questions about where she had been, except that of the tittle-tattle kind, came to an end. Mr. Simkins continued to deny any knowledge as before. Catherine and Mrs. Tennant replied to all questions that the lost weeks had been spent at the house of a relative in the country.”
Poiret listened to Haven with interest. He then gave his last orders to his manservant and said, lighting a new cigar, “Haven, it is the folly to suppose that between the first and the second disappearance of Mademoiselle Catherine, there is no connection. Let us admit the first disappearance to have resulted in a quarrel between the lovers and the return home of the young woman. We are now prepared to view a second disappearance as indicating a renewal of the suitor’s advances, rather than as the result of the new proposal by a second individual. She is not, how do you say, thick, to do again with someone else, what proved to be the mistake with the first one. However, the psychology, it tells to us that chances, they are greater that she would reoffend with the first one again.”
“But you forget, Poiret, six months have passed.”
“Poiret, he forgets nothing,” came the indignant answer. “His absence can be easily explained. He could have been outside of the country or trying to divorce his wife, in jail or for that matter, he could have been in the insan
e asylum.”
“But I have not read anything about a third man in the newspaper.”
“Mon ami, you forget that apart from the known suitors of Mademoiselle Catherine, Monsieur Swanson and Monsieur Webster, there was also the man, she was seen strolling with along the river bank. Who, then, is this secret lover, of whom the relatives, they know nothing, but whom Mademoiselle Catherine, she meets on the morning of Sunday and who is so deeply in her confidence, that she does not hesitate to remain with him until, how do you say, the shades of the evening, they descend.”
“Do you suppose they were together, when something went horribly wrong?”
“Oui, mon ami. On quitting the home, she gave it to be understood to Monsieur Swanson that she was about to visit her aunt in Saint Mark Street and Monsieur Swanson is then requested to call for her at dark. Mademoiselle Catherine, she must have thought when leaving home of the surprise and the suspicion aroused in the mind of her fiancé Monsieur Swanson, when calling for her at the hour agreed upon in Saint Mark Street, he should find that she has not been there and when, moreover, on returning to the boarding house with this alarming information, he should become aware of her continued absence from home. She must have thought of these things, Poiret, he is sure. She must have foreseen the chagrin of Monsieur Swanson and the suspicion of all. She must not have intended to return at all.”
“Why not just leave and say nothing?”
“Poiret, he imagines that the young woman, she thinks that there must be the sufficient time given to them to elude pursuit. She creates the time for escape by telling to her fiancé that she shall visit and spend the day with her aunt and she also demands that he not call on her until dark. In this way her absence from home gives to her the time necessary, without causing the suspicion in her fiancé.”
Murder on the Thames (A Jules Poiret Mystery Book 11) Page 2
