‘Perhaps he has something to be miserable about,’ replied Frances.
Sarah grunted. ‘Well, I don’t trust him.’
Dr Northrop stepped up to deliver his report. ‘I have completed my examination of the body of Lancelot Dobree, and I am in no doubt that the cause of death was a single blow to the back of the head that fractured the skull and caused substantial bleeding in the brain. He would have become unconscious immediately after the blow, and death would have ensued very soon afterwards. I made a careful search of the location in which the body was found, and there was no object nearby or even in the house which could have caused that injury. Also, in my opinion it is impossible for the injury to have occurred by accident. Mr Dobree was struck by something like a hammer or maul, which created a distinctively shaped fracture, and the weapon was then removed from the scene. It is also now clear that as I suspected the fatal attack occurred outside the fuel store and the body was placed there afterwards, in all probability for concealment. The blow would not have caused a lot of external bleeding. There was blood matted in his hair and some on his collar and cravat. I found a few drops on the paving of the yard, but there was nothing to say exactly where the attack took place. I have no hesitation in stating that the intention of his attacker was at the very least to disable his victim, and quite possibly to kill him.’
‘Were you able to determine anything about the attacker from the weight and position of the blow?’ asked Diplock.
‘Yes, I believe that the attacker was either male or a strong female, but more probably male. He would have been right handed and taller than the deceased.’
‘How tall was the deceased?’
‘Five feet seven inches.’
‘Have you been able to determine the time of death?’
‘Based on my examination of the stomach contents, and information about his last meal, I would estimate that he died not long after he was last seen alive.’
Dr Northrop returned to his seat.
The next witness was the architect Mr Herman, who testified that Lancelot Dobree had been interested in purchasing a property for conversion into a school. He confirmed that he had not been told the address of the property Dobree wanted him to see, and neither he nor any of his employees had previously visited the house where the body was found. He did not know of any business dealings that might have led to the attack or any enemies Dobree might have had.
An elderly gentleman who crept slowly to his place on a walking stick was Mr Westvale, a friend of Lancelot Dobree for many years and Master of Mulberry Lodge. He could only reiterate the good opinion of others, and confirm that he knew of no reason why anyone would want to harm the deceased.
As he shuffled back to his place Frances was deep in thought. She was more than ever convinced that Dobree had not been the victim of a chance street robbery or his killer would not have taken the trouble to hide the body. Dobree might have been lured to the location of his murder by his killer, perhaps on the pretext that he would be shown over the property. That still didn’t explain how Dobree had managed to leave the Lodge room, why if he had a meeting he had not advised anyone of it, how either Dobree or his killer had obtained access to the building without the house agents or owner being aware of it, and also where he had been planning to go that night that had required him to pack a change of linen and toilet articles. The late Mr Munro was not a suspect as he had not been a tall man, but there must be many individuals in Dobree’s circle of friends and acquaintances who would fit the portrait of his killer.
With great gentleness Dr Diplock asked if he might question Mrs Salter, and she was offered a chair and a glass of water, the first of which she availed herself of, while the second she left perched on the coroner’s table, untasted. She did not raise her veil.
‘Mrs Salter, I will make this as brief as possible,’ began Diplock. ‘Did your father tell you where he was intending to go after the meeting of the Lodge?’
The voice was crisp, firm, assured. ‘He did not.’
‘Did he ever mention to you his plans to found a charity school?’
‘Yes. It was to be named in memory of my mother and I was to be patroness. That is all the information I have.’
‘Can you think of anyone who might have meant any harm to your father?’
‘No. He was greatly liked and admired by all who knew him.’
Diplock glanced at the jury but they indicated with a shake of the head that they did not wish to trouble the witness further. Dr Diplock advised that he had no further questions and called Vernon Salter to give evidence.
As Vernon Salter unfolded his long body from his chair, there was a certain amount of whispering in the room. Frances gazed on the face of the man who was almost certainly her natural father, the man who had lured her mother away from her husband and children and then abandoned her for an heiress. Revolted by his treachery she tried to find it in herself to hate him, but somehow she could not. The grief she had felt when she had discovered her history had wound itself into her body and mind, strangling any other emotion.
He stood quietly by the coroner’s table, his discomfort palpable.
‘Mr Salter, I understand you have been travelling on business – when did you return?’
‘Late last night.’
‘Where were you last Monday night?’
‘I was staying at the cottage in Berkshire which is owned by my wife’s family. I left the following morning.’
‘Do you have a witness to confirm that?’
‘No, I was there alone.’
As he spoke, Frances saw Inspector Payne’s posture change. He had been studying a bundle of papers and began to pay particular and close attention to one of them. Then he raised his head and subjected Vernon Salter to a stare of considerable intensity. After a brief pause he wrote something in his notebook, tore out the page, and handed it to the coroner’s officer, indicating that it should be passed to Dr Diplock.
‘What do you know about Mr Dobree’s interest in founding a school?’ continued the coroner.
‘He mentioned the plan to me and asked if I would be willing to oversee the renovation work. I said I would. But he never told me what property he had in mind, neither have I viewed a property or had any keys.’
And now, thought Frances, of the two men who might have been able to confirm or deny that statement, the Munros, one was dead, the other too ill to be questioned. She saw the jurymen glancing at each other. Were they thinking as she did, that the murders of Lancelot Dobree and Albert Munro could be connected?
‘Do you know of anyone who might have borne ill will to your father-in-law? Or someone who might have benefited by his death?’
‘No. He was a very well-liked and highly respected man. I have not seen his will but I understand that the bulk of his property is divided between a trust for the grandchildren, to charity, and to my wife. I do not and have never expected to benefit in any great material way from my father-in-law’s death.’
Vernon Salter returned to his seat, and the coroner paused to study the note passed to him by Inspector Payne. Whatever the contents of the note, it obliged him to give it extended consideration. He then called the next witness, the deceased’s manservant Mr Jeffs, to give evidence as to the circumstances of his master’s absence from home.
Jeffs came forward with his accustomed calm dignity. ‘Mr Dobree advised me that he was to attend a Lodge meeting in the afternoon, but would not dine or return home that night. He said that he was attending to some private business but told me nothing further; neither did he say where he was intending to spend the night. However, he did say that he would send a telegram to advise when he could be expected home. I packed his overnight bag myself. Nothing was missing from it when it was returned to me.’
‘Did you receive a telegram from Mr Dobree?’
‘I did not.’
‘Was this unusual behaviour on Mr Dobree’s part?’
‘To be absent from home without saying where he w
as bound? Yes. I have never known him do such a thing before. But his instructions were clear and of course I did not question them or ask for further information.’
‘Mr Jeffs, can you advise the court what action was taken when you were notified by Mr Fiske that your master was missing from the Lodge room?’
‘I consulted Mrs Salter on her return home, and I was instructed to dispatch a telegram to Mrs Barrett, who manages the cottage in Berkshire. In due course we received a reply confirming that Mr Dobree was not at the cottage, neither had she received advance notice that he would be there.’
‘When a member of the family wishes to stay in the cottage is the housekeeper always informed of this?’
‘Yes. Mrs Barrett does not occupy the cottage herself but lives very close by and therefore needs to be advised when she is required to make it ready for occupation.’
‘Please tell the court what occurred next.’
‘It was decided to wait for a telegram from Mr Dobree, but since he did not have his overnight bag with him, it was thought he might change his mind and return that night, so one of the maids was instructed to wait up for him. I should mention that not only is the house locked at night but also very securely bolted. I retired to my bed, but not long afterwards I was alerted by the maid, who said that she had heard someone trying to enter the house by the back door. She knew it could not have been the master, as he would have gone to the front door. Even if he had mislaid his keys, he would have rung for a servant to let him in. I investigated and while any would-be intruder was no longer there it was clear that someone had attempted to gain entry using either a key or some other implement. The door, which I had locked myself, was now unlocked, but the bolts had held, and the criminal must have realised that his attempts would not be rewarded and run away. Naturally a constable was summoned, but there was nothing to see. Since Mr Dobree had already said that he would be away from home that night, I suppose no importance was then attached to his absence. We made sure to have a servant guarding the house for the rest of the night, and the following day we made further enquiries with friends and acquaintances of Mr Dobree in case anyone knew of his whereabouts.’
‘Did you assume that someone had obtained Mr Dobree’s house keys?’
‘We didn’t know what to think.’
‘Were the keys distinctive? If a stranger had found them in the street would he have known which house they belonged to?’
‘There was a leather fob, stamped with the words “Mulberry House”. It is a well-known residence in Kensington.’
‘I see. What was your next action?’
‘The following night, when no communication had been received from Mr Dobree, and Mrs Barrett confirmed by telegram that he had still not come to the cottage, we alerted the police.’
Dr Diplock once again perused the note provided by Inspector Payne. ‘Mr Jeffs, did Mrs Barrett mention Mr Salter’s presence at the cottage?’
‘She did not.’
‘Did you ask her if he was there?’
‘No.’
‘Thank you, you may stand down. I would like to recall Inspector Payne.’
Payne approached the coroner once more.
‘Inspector, in your own words please let me know the result of the enquiries made by the Berkshire police.’
The Inspector consulted his papers, but not before directing a brief and hostile stare at Vernon Salter. ‘When the police were alerted to the deceased’s disappearance I was advised that there was a family cottage in Berkshire, and it was very possible that Mr Dobree might be found there. I accordingly telegraphed the Berkshire police who contacted the housekeeper. I have here a copy of the report we were sent, which confirms that not only was Mr Dobree not at the cottage, but that no member of the family had stayed there for some weeks.’ There were gasps in the courtroom and all eyes now turned to Vernon Salter. Frances could hardly bear to look, but forced herself to do so. Salter had gone pale. He was a poor liar and was having a hard time dealing with the consequences of being found out. Payne handed a paper to Dr Diplock who studied it and handed it back. ‘Thank you Inspector, that will be sufficient. Please stand down. I now wish to recall Mr Salter.’ There was a busy murmur of comment in the room, which was soon hushed as everyone waited to hear what the witness would say.
Vernon Salter, looking like a hunted and cornered animal, got to his feet and once again prepared to be questioned. Dr Diplock gazed at him with an unreadable expression. ‘Mr Salter, you stated earlier in response to my question that last Monday, the day of Mr Dobree’s death, you were staying at the family cottage. The court has been provided with information that indicates that this was not the case. I suggest therefore that you might like to reconsider your earlier reply.’
Salter hesitated, tried to say something and stumbled over his words. ‘I am – very sorry – truly I am – I may have been confused – I have been travelling on business and – sometimes I can find it fatiguing – and – and …’ a nervous gulp, ‘to be perfectly honest I do not think I can tell you where I was that night.’
Dr Diplock raised his eyebrows. There was muttered conversation amongst the onlookers and he was obliged to call for quiet. ‘Very well, Mr Salter, but you would be best advised to examine your memory for that information, as it may well be needed.’
To Vernon Salter’s immense relief he was permitted to resume his place but not without many suspicious glances being directed at him. Frances doubted that his testimony was as he claimed, a simple error. It seemed far more likely to be a deliberate lie, which raised the question – had he lied about anything else? Who knew what such a rogue might be capable of? Supposing he had had keys to the lodging house after all, and had invited Lancelot Dobree to inspect the property? The only risk was being observed but that was not a great risk in the evening quiet of Linfield Gardens. And this creature, she reminded herself, was her father. The mere idea made her feel unwell.
To everyone’s surprise, the next witness called was Mr Marsden. Frances bent her head, hoping that her veil would conceal her features. Even if he did recognise her she thought he would probably put her presence at the inquest down to a love of snooping. As Marsden took his place he glanced around the room, taking in those present. It was a prideful sneering look, too acutely conscious of his own cleverness and the respect that he believed he commanded.
‘Mr Marsden, how long have you been acquainted with Lancelot Dobree?’
‘I have acted as his solicitor for more than twenty years, and my father acted for him many years before that when I was a junior partner.’
‘Where and when did you last see him?’
‘At my office, two weeks before his death.’
‘What do you know of Mr Dobree’s plans to found a school?’
‘He mentioned it, but only in a general way, saying that he was looking for a suitable property and of course I agreed to act for him in any purchase. He did not, however, indicate which if any properties he was interested in.’
‘Did he tell you about the journey he was intending to make last Monday night after the Lodge meeting?’
‘Not specifically, but I know that there was something that deeply troubled him and his plan may well have been in connection with that.’
‘Did he reveal what was troubling him?’
‘He did not discuss it in any great detail, since he was unwilling for personal reasons to divulge too much, even to me, but he indicated that his concerns related to the behaviour of his son-in-law, Mr Salter.’
There was a marked intake of breath in the room, and some whispers, quickly stifled. Frances found herself starting to tremble, and Sarah clasped her arm firmly.
‘I should explain that I was involved in drawing up the marriage agreement between Mr Salter and the Dobree family. It is my opinion that the terms of the agreement are of some significance to this court. Mr Dobree was anxious that his daughter would not fall victim to a fortune hunter, and in this arrangement her personal fortune was there
fore carefully secured to her use under the administration of her father. Mr Salter received a marriage portion to enable him to start up in business and an annuity, the capital remaining in the possession of his father-in-law, but no more. There was, however, a provision that should Mr Salter ever be made bankrupt, be convicted of a crime, or fail to honour his marriage vows, then the annuity would cease, the loan would be returned to the family and the couple would separate. Under Mr Dobree’s will Mr Salter was due to receive the cottage, and the bonds which produced the annuity were to pass into his possession, but only if he had met the requirements of the marriage contract. Mr Salter is not a wealthy man, and should Mr Dobree’s suspicions have proved correct he would have been a very poor one.’
‘And the deceased gave you no clue as to the precise nature of these suspicions?’
‘He did not. But he was determined to make enquiries to discover if there was any truth in the matter. There were several issues at stake; the happiness of his daughter, the honour of his family and the standing of his Lodge. His suspicions were further aroused by the fact that Mr Salter had recently requested an amendment to the marriage contract that would have granted him an increase in the annuity, something my client was unwilling to condone. I suggested to Mr Dobree that he should consider employing a detective to look into Mr Salter’s activities; I know of one or two competent men I could recommend; but he believed it was too sensitive an issue to reveal to a stranger, and he declined. He said he would look into the matter personally.’
Mr Marsden returned to his seat and Frances desperately hoped that he had not noticed her presence in the crowded room. She dared not now look at Vernon Salter. Consumed with her own thoughts she barely heard Dr Diplock give his final advice to the jury, after which they elected to retire to an adjoining room to consider their verdict. They were absent for what seemed like an age but was probably about twenty minutes. Frances was glad to have Sarah by her side, solid and comforting, and knowing exactly when no words were necessary.
A True and Faithful Brother Page 8
