'Yes.'
'Are you accustomed to cleaning out the dustbin in darkness?'
'Look 'ere! I never thought of it -'
'Or being careful to make no noise to disturb anyone in an empty flat? I put it to you that - if you actually were in the flat at the time you say - it was for a purpose other than cleaning out the dustbin?'
'It was not.'
'Then you never went into the flat at all?'
'Yes, I did, if you'd let me get in a word edgeways; and what I'm telling you is that old Hume was there, and he stole that gun, so help me!'
'Let us see if there is anything else that may help us. There is, I believe, a hall-porter at D'Orsay Chambers?'
"Yes.’
'Will you accept my statement that this porter, when questioned by the police, testified he had not seen anyone resembling the deceased in D'Orsay Chambers on Friday or at any other time?'
'Maybe not. He came in by the back stairs -'
'Who came in by the back stairs?'
'Mr Hume. Anyway, that's how he went out, because I saw him go.'
'Did you offer any of this information to the police at the time?'
'No; how could I? I wasn't there. I left my job the next day-' ‘You left the next day?'
'I had been under notice for a month, yes, and that was Saturday. Besides, I didn't know it was important.'
'Apparently not. There would appear to be a curious notion among several persons as to what may or may not have been important then, but is very important now,' said Sir Walter dryly. 'When you say you saw Captain Answell in the car-park, was there any other person there who could substantiate the statement?'
'Nobody but Captain Answell himself. Why don't you ask him?'
Mr Justice Rankin intervened. 'The witness's remark, though out of order,' he said with some asperity, 'would seem pertinent. Is Captain Answell in court? Considering that a part of the evidence depends on information that he may be able to give ...'
H.M. surged up with a sort of ferocious affability. 'My lord, Captain Answell is goin' to appear as a witness for the defence. You needn't trouble to send for him. He's been under subpoena for a long, long time; and we'll see that he is here, though I'm not sure he'll be a very willin' witness for his own side.'
('What on earth is all this?' Evelyn asked in a whisper. 'You heard the fellow say himself he wasn't to be called as a witness. He must have known he'd be subpoenaed! What is happening?')
It was undoubtedly some trick on H.M.'s part: H.M. being determined to be the old maestro if it choked him. Beyond that nothing was known.
'I have no more questions to ask this witness,' said Sir Walter Storm abruptly.
'Call Joseph George Shanks,' said H.M.
While Grabell was going out of the box, and Joseph George Shanks was going into it, a consultation went on among the counsel for the Crown. The prosecution was in a strange and horned position. They must fight this through. That James Answell had been the victim of a mistake: that Hume had planned a trap for Reginald: even that Hume had stolen the pistol: was now being pushed towards a certainty. But these were details which did not, for everything that was said, in the least demonstrate the innocence of the prisoner. I remembered the words in the summing-up of a great jurist at anothercause celebre: 'Members of the jury, there is some circumstantial evidence which is as good and conclusive as the evidence of eye-witnesses ... If I might give you an illustration: supposing you have a room with one door, and a closed window, and a passage leading from that door. A man comes up the passage, goes through the door into the room, and finds another man standing with a pistol, and on the floor a dead man: the circumstantial evidence there would be almost conclusive, if not conclusive.'
We had just such a situation here. The prisoner had still been found in a locked room. The circumstantial evidence of the fact was still conclusive. No doubt had been cast on the central point, which was the only real point at issue. However damaged the case for the prosecution had become, Sir Walter Storm must finish this course.
I was recalled by H.M.'s voice.
'Your name's Joseph George Shanks, and you were odd-jobs man at number 12 Grosvenor Street?'
'Yessir,' said the witness. He was a little, broad man, so much like a dwarfed model of John Bull that his Sunday-best clothes sat oddly on him. Two polished knives of white collar stabbed his neck: they seemed to keep his voice light from the effort of keeping his neck high.
'How long did you work there?'
'Ah,' said the other, considering. 'Six years, more or less, I should think.'
'What were your duties, mostly?'
'Mostly keeping Mr Hume's archery things in order; any repairs to 'em; things like that.'
'Take a look at this arrow, which was used to kill the deceased' - the witness carefully wiped his hands on the seat of his Sunday trousers before accepting it - 'and tell the jury whether you've seen it before.'
'You-bet-I-have, sir. I fastened the feathers on. I remember this one. Dye's a mite dark for the kind I meant.'
'You often fastened the deceased's special kind of feathers to the arrows? And dyed the guide-feather? Mr Fleming told us that yesterday.'
'I did that, sir.'
'Now, supposin' I showed you a little piece of feather,' pursued H.M. with argumentative persuasiveness, 'and I asked you to tell me definitely whether it was the piece of feather missing from the middle, there ... could you do that?'
'If it was off this feather, I could, sir. Besides, it 'ud fit.'
'It would. But - just to take a different sort of question for a minute - you worked in that little workshop or shed in the back garden, didn't you?'
'I'm sure I didn't mean to press you, sir,' said the witness generously. 'What was that? Ah. Yes, I did.'
'Did he keep any cross-bows there?'
The stir of creaking that went through the room affected Shanks with a pleasant sense of importance. He relaxed, and leaned his elbows on the rail of the box. Evidently some stern eye was watching over his conduct from the spectators' gallery lover our heads; for he seemed to become sensible of the impropriety of his posture, and straightened up hastily.
'He did, sir. Three of them. Fine nasty-looking things.'
'Where'd he keep 'em?'
'In a big box, sir, like a big tool-box with a handle. Under the carpenter's bench.' The witness blinked with a painful effort at concentration.
'Tell me: did you go down to that shed on the morning of Sunday, January 5th, the day after the murder?'
'Yes, sir. I know it was Sunday, but even so, considering -'
'Did you notice anything different in the shed?'
'I did, sir. Somebody'd been at that tool-box, or what I call a tool-box. It's directly under the bench, you see, sir; and there's shavings and dust (falls on it, like a coating, you see, sir; and so if you loo'k at it you can tell right away, without thinking anything of it, if someone has been at it.'
'Did you look in the box?'
'Yes, sir, of course. And one of the cross-bows were not there.'
'What'd you do when you found this out?'
'Well, sir, of course I spoke to Miss Mary about it; but she said not to bother about such things, considering; and so I didn't.'
'Could you identify that cross bow, if you saw it again?' 'I could, sir.'
From his own hidden lair (which he kept jealously guarded) H.M. made a gesture to Lollypop. There was produced a weapon very similar in appearance to the cross-bow H.M. had used yesterday for the purposes of illustration. It was perhaps not quite so long, and had a broader head; steel studs were set in a line down the stock, and there was a little silver plate let into it.
'Is this, the cross-bow?' said; H.M.
'That's it; yes, sir. Here's even Mr Hume's name engraved on the little plate.'
'Look at the drum of the windlass there, where you'll see the teeth. Just tell me if there's somethin' caught in there - ah, you got itl Take it out. Hold it over so the jury can see. What is
it?' j
'It's a bit of feather, sir, blue feather.'
Sir Walter' Storm was on 'his feet. He was not amused now; only grave, heavy and polite.
'My lord, are we to assume that this is being suggested as the mysterious piece of feather about which so many questions have been asked?’
'Only a part of it, milord,' grunted H.M. 'If it's examined, we'll see that there's still a little bit of it missin’. Not much. Only a piece about a quarter by half an inch square. But enough. That, we're suggestin', is the second piece. There are three of them. One's yet to come.' After the amenities, he turned back to the witness. 'Could you say definitely whether or not the piece you've got in your hand came off that broken guide-feather on the arrow?'
'I think I could, sir,' said the witness, and blinked.
'Just look at it, then, and tell us.'
While Shanks screwed up his eyes and hunched his shoulders over it, therewas a sound of shuffling or sliding in court. People were frying surreptitiously to rise and get a look. The prisoner, his face sharper now and less muddled, was also staring at it; but he seemed as puzzled as anyone else.
'Ah, this is right, sir,' declared Shanks. 'It come off here.'
'You're sure of that, now? I mean, one part of a broken feather might be deceptive, mightn't it? Even if it's a goose-feather, and even if it's got a special kind of dye on it, can you still identify it as comin' from that particular arrow?'
'This one I can; yes, indeed, yes. I put on this dye myself. I put it on with a brush, like paint. That's what I meant by saying it fitted. There's a slip in the paint here that makes a lighter mark in the blue like a question-mark. You can see the upper part of the question-mark, but the little dot and part of the tail I don't see ...'
"Would you swear,' said H.M. very gently, 'would you swear that the part of feather you see stickin' in that crossbow came from the feather on the arrow in front of you?'
'I would indeed, sir.'
'For the moment,' said H.M., 'that's all.'
The Attorney-General got up with a suavity in which there was some impatience. His eye evidently made Shanks nervous.
'The arrow you have there bears the date 1934, I think. Does that mean you prepared the arrow, or dyed it, in 1934?.
'Yes, sir. About the spring, it would be.'
'Have you ever seen it since, close enough to examine it? What I mean is this: After winning the annual wardmote in 1934, Mr Hume hung that arrow on the wall of his study?'
'Yes, sir.'
'During all that time since, have you ever been close enough to examine it since?'
'No, sir, not until that gentleman' - he nodded towards H.M. - 'asked me to look at it a month ago.'
'Oh I But from 1934 until then you had not actually looked at the arrow?'
'That's so, sir.'
'During that time you must, I presume, have handled and prepared a good many arrows for Mr Hume?' 'Yes, sir.'
'Hundreds, should you say?'
'Well, sir, I shouldn't quite like to go as far as that.' Just try to give an approximate number. Would it be fair to say that you had handled or prepared over a hundred arrows?'
‘Yes, sir, it might be that. They use an awful lot.'
'I see. They use "an awful lot". Do you tell us, then, that out of over a hundred arrows, over a space of years, you can infallibly identify one arrow on which you put dye in 1934? I remind you that you are upon oath.'
At this tremendous reminder, the witness cast an eye up at the public gallery as though for support. 'Well, sir, you see, it's my job -'
'Please answer the question. Out of over a hundred arrows, over a space of years, can you infallibly identify one on which you put dye in 1934?'
'I shouldn't like to say, sir, may I go to he - may I be - that is, to say everything should happen to me -'
'Very well,' said the Attorney-General, who had got his effect. 'Now -'
'But I'm sure of it just the same, mind I'
'Though you cannot swear to it. I see. Now,' continued the other, picking up some flimsy typewritten sheets, T have here a copy of the prisoner's statement to the police. (Please hand this across to the witness.) Will you take that statement, Mr Shanks, and read out the first paragraph for us?'
Shanks, startled, took the paper with an automatic gesture. First he blinked at it in the same doubtful way he had shown before. Then he began to fumble in his pockets, without apparent result while the delay he was giving the court evidently preyed worse and worse on his mind, until such a gigantic pause upset him completely.
'I can't seem to find my specs, sir. I'm afraid that without my specs -'
'Do I understand,' said the other, who had rightly interpreted that blinking of the eyes, 'that without your spectacles you cannot read the statement?'
'It's not exactly to say I can't, sir; but -
'Yet you can identify an arrow on which you put dye in 1934?' asked Sir Walter Storm - and sat down.
This time H.M. did roar up for re-examination, girded for war. But his questions were short.
'How many times did Avory Hume win the annual competitions?'
'Three times, sir.'
'The arrow was a special prize on those occasions, wasn't it?' 'Yes, sir.'
'So it wasn't just "one out of over a hundred", was it? It was a special thing, a keepsake?' 'Yes, sir.'
'Did he show you the arrow, and call your attention to it, after he'd won the first-shot competition?' 'Yes, sir.'
'Ha,' said H.M., lifting his robe in order to hitch up his trousers. 'That will do. No, not that way out, son; that's the judge's bench; the warder'Il show you.' He waited until Shanks had been taken away, and then he got up again.
'Call Reginald Answell,' said H.M.
XVII
'At the Opening of the Window -'
REGINALD ANSWELL was not exactly under escort: when the warder took charge of him, and led him to the box, he seemed a free man. But just behind him I saw a familiar figure whose name eluded me until I remembered Sergeant-Major Carstairs, who guards the entrance to H.M.'s lair at Whitehall. On the sergeant-major's face was the sinister look of a benevolent captor.
Again you could hear the rustle of the wind in trees of scandal; every eye immediately tried to find Mary Hume as well, but she was not in court. Reginald's long and bony face was a little pale, but very determined. I remember thinking then that he looked a tricky customer, and had better be handled as such - whatever H.M. had in mind. But this may have been due to a surge of dislike caused by the slight (manufactured) wave in his dark-yellow hair, or the cool gaze of self-possession oh his features: the latter more than the former. He took the oath in a clear, pleasant voice.
H.M. seemed to draw a deep breath. It was to be wondered, in view of the wiles that lay beneath the surface, whether H.M. would find himself cross-examining his own witness.
'Your name is Reginald Wentworth Answell; you have no residence, but when you're in London you live at D'Orsay Chambers, Duke Street?'
'Yes.'
‘I want you to understand,' said H.M., folding his arms, 'that you're not obliged to answer any questions which will incriminate you - about any activities.' He paused. 'This question, however, won't incriminate you. When the police talked to you about your general movements on the evenin' of January 4th, did you tell 'em the whole truth?'
'The whole truth, no.'
'Are you ready to tell the truth now, under oath?'
'I am,' said Reginald with great apparent sincerity. His eyes dickered; there is no other way to describe it.
'Were you in London early in the evenin' on January 4th?'
'I was. I drove from Rochester, and arrived at D'Orsay Chambers a few minutes past six o'clock.'
It was possible that H.M. stiffened a little, and an odd air of tensity began to grow again. H.M. tilted his head on one side.
'So-o? I understood it was ten minutes past six o'clock. Wasn't it?'
'I am sorry. It was a little earlier than that. I distin
ctly remember the clock in the dashboard of my car.' 'Had you intended to see the deceased that night?' 'Yes. Socially.'
'When you got to D'Orsay Chambers, did you see the witness Horace Grabell?' 'I did.'
'Did he tell you about the deceased's visit to your flat on Friday?' 'He did.’
'Did he tell you the deceased had taken your pistol, and gone away with it?' 'He did.'
'And what did you do then?'
'I could not understand it, but I did not like it. So I thought I had better not see Mr Hume after all. I went away. I - drove round a bit, and - and before long I left town. I - did not return until later.'
H.M. sat down rather quickly. There had been a curious intonation in that 'before long'; H.M. had seemed to catch it, for we all did. And Sir Walter Storm was very quick to rise.
'You tell us, Captain Answell,' began the Attorney-General, 'that you "drove round a bit", and "before long" you left town. How long?'
'Half an hour or a little more, perhaps.' 'Half an hour? As long as that?' 'Yes. I wanted to think.' 'Where did you drive?' Silence.
'Where did you drive, Captain Answell? I must repeat my question.'
'I drove to Mr Hume's house in Grosvenor Street,' answered the witness.
For a second the implications of this did not penetrate into our minds. Even the Attorney-General, whatever his thoughts might have been, hesitated before he went on. The witness's air of pale candour was that of the 'engaging' Reginald Answell I had seen yesterday. -
'You drove to Mr Hume's house, you say?'
'Yes. I hoped you would not ask that.' He looked briefly towards the prisoner, who was staring at him. 'I told them I could do him no good. I understood I was not to be called as a witness.'
'You understand that it is your business to tell the truth? Very well. Why did you go to Mr Hume's house?'
'I don't know exactly. I thought it was a queer show, a very queer show. I did not intend to go in; I only intended to cruise past, wondering what was - was up.'
'At what time did you arrive at the house?' demanded the Attorney-General. Even Sir Walter Storm could not keep his voice quite level, in wondering himself what was up.
'At ten minutes past six.'
The Judas Window shm-8 Page 19
