“I can’t imagine anything that could account for the state of the dead man’s shoes,” said I.
“No,” he agreed, “that seems conclusive, and I think it is. Nevertheless, if it should transpire in evidence that Sir Edward was seen in the neighbourhood before the rain started, the absence of mud on his shoes would cease to have any special significance. But here we are at the court. I expect Brodribb is there already and it will probably be best for him and for us if we select seats that are not too near his. He will want to give his whole attention to his own evidence and that of the other witnesses.”
We watched the last of the jurymen enter the municipal office in which the proceedings were to take place; then we went in and took possession of a couple of chairs in a corner, commanding a view of the table and the place in which the witnesses would stand or sit to give their evidence.
PONTIFEX SON AND THORNDYKE [Part 2]
CHAPTER IX
The Crowner’s Quest
(Dr. Jervis’s Narrative)
During the brief preliminary period, while the jury-men were taking their places and the court was pervaded by the hum of conversation and the rustle of movement, I looked about me to see who was present and if possible to identify the prospective witnesses. Brodribb was seated near the coroner’s chair, and, by his rather unhappy, preoccupied look, I judged that Thorndyke, with his usual tact, had pretty accurately gauged his mental state. He caught my eye once and acknowledged my silent greeting with a grave nod, but immediately relapsed into his previous gloomy and meditative condition.
Seated next to him was an elderly—or perhaps I should say an old—man, for he looked well over sixty, who was, in appearance, such a typical example of the old-fashioned better gentleman’s servant that I instantly placed him, correctly, as it turned out, as Mr. Weeks, Sir Edward’s butler. Behind the coroner’s chair was our friend the Superintendent, who was carrying on a whispered conversation with Dr. Ross. Our colleague struck me as looking a little nervous and sheepish and I noticed that he held a paper in his hand and glanced at it from time to time. From which I inferred that he was conning over his notes with a view to the prompt and confident delivery of his evidence.
At this point my observations were brought to an end by a premonitory cough on the part of the coroner, which had somewhat the effect of the warning rattle of a striking clock, as giving the company to understand that he was about to begin his address. Thereupon, silence fell on the assembly and the proceedings opened. Quite briefly and in general terms, he indicated the nature of the case which was the subject of the inquiry, and, having sketchily recited the leading facts, proceeded to call the witnesses.
“It is the common practice,” he said in conclusion, “to begin with the medical evidence, as the state of the body is usually the principal means of determining the cause of death and of answering the questions, How, When and Where that death was brought about. But in the present case the circumstances surrounding the discovery of the body have so important a bearing that I think it better to take the evidence on that point first. The first witness will be James Holker.”
In response to the implied summons, a well-dressed, capable-looking man rose and approached the table. Having been sworn, he deposed that his name was James Holker, that he was by calling a ship’s steward but now retired and living chiefly on the proceeds of certain house property that he owned. Among other such property was a row of houses known as Piper’s Row; and it was in one of these houses, Number Five, to wit, that he made the discovery.
“On what date was that?” the coroner asked.
“On Tuesday, the fourteenth of July. Yesterday morning, in fact.”
“Tell us exactly what happened on that occasion.”
“I went round to Number Five to go on with some repairs that I had begun. I went straight into the front room—that is the living-room—and then I noticed a glove lying on the floor under the window. I remembered having seen that glove before. But now I noticed something very unpleasant about the air of the place and there seemed to be an unusual number of flies and blue-bottles about. So I went through to the kitchen and it was worse there. Then I opened the door of the wash-house and looked in; and there I saw a man hanging from a roof-beam. I didn’t stop to examine him. I just bolted straight out of the house and ran up to the police station to report what had happened.”
“You had no doubt that the man was dead?”
“None whatever. I could see at a glance that he had been dead a week or two. And it wasn’t a matter of eyesight only—”
“No. Quite so. Now, have you any means of judging how long he had been hanging there?”
“Yes. I judge that he had been hanging there a little over three weeks.”
“Tell us how you are able to arrive at that time.”
“Well, sir, it was this way. On Sunday, the twenty-first of June, I put in a fairly full day’s work at the repairs on Number Five; and nothing could have happened on that day, because I went all over the house. I worked on there all the afternoon up to getting on for five, and then, as I saw that it was coming on wet, I stowed my tools in a cupboard in the front room and ran off home as hard as I could go through the rain.
“That night, the captain of an old ship of mine, the Esmeralda, called to ask me to take a trip with him to Marseilles, as his steward had to go into hospital. I thought I’d like the trip, and I was glad to oblige the captain, so I said ‘Yes’ and set to work to pack my kit. Next morning, Monday, I ran round to Number Five to fetch my tools away. As I was in a hurry, I only went into the front room, where my tools were. But I could see that someone had been in the house, because there was a glove lying on the floor just under the window; and I noticed that the window was unfastened and slightly open. If I had had time I would have had a look round the house; but, as I was in a hurry to get on to the docks, and there was nothing in the house that anyone could take, I just took up my tools and came away.”
“Did you pick up the glove?”
“No. I left it as it was; and when I went to the house yesterday, it was lying in the same place.”
“Is there anything else that you can tell us about the case?”
“No, sir. That’s all I know about it.”
The coroner glanced at the jury. “Are there any questions that you wish to ask the witness, gentlemen?” he enquired. “If not, we will next take the evidence of Superintendent Thompson.”
The Superintendent marched briskly up to the table and having disposed, with business-like brevity, of the preliminary formalities, gave his evidence with a conciseness born of long experience.
“At ten-fifteen yesterday morning, that is Tuesday, the fourteenth of July, the previous witness, James Holker, came to the police station and reported to me that a dead man was hanging in a house of his, Number Five Piper’s Row. I gave instructions for a wheeled stretcher to be sent there and then proceeded forthwith to the house in company with Holker and Constable Marshall.
“On entering, I went straight through to the wash-house, where I saw the dead body of a man hanging by a rope from a roof-beam. Nearly underneath the body but a little to one side was an overturned chair; and close to the chair a wash-leather glove was lying on the floor and a little farther off a soft felt hat. A walking-stick was standing in the corner by the door. Deceased had no collar on, but I found the collar, afterwards, in his pocket, very dirty and crumpled. The rope by which the body was hanging was a small coir rope, a trifle thinner than my little finger. It was tied very securely to the beam above and the noose had a rather large knot, which was at the back of the neck.”
“Could you form any idea as to how long the body had been hanging?” the coroner asked.
“I could only form a rough estimate. Judging by the advanced state of decomposition I concluded that it must have been hanging at least a fortnight, and I thought it probable that Holker’s account, making it three weeks, was correct.”
“Did there appear to be anything unusual i
n the method used by deceased?”
“No. The way in which the suicide was carried out seemed quite simple and ordinary. Apparently, when he came into the wash-house, he stood his stick in the corner, threw down his hat and glove, took off his collar and put it in his pocket. Then he probably made the noose, stood on the chair and tied the rope to the beam, put the noose round his neck, pulled it fairly tight, drew up his legs and kicked the chair over so that he was left swinging free. That was what it looked like.”
“Is there any evidence as to how deceased got into the house?”
“I think there is no doubt that he got in by the front room window. He couldn’t have got in by the street door, because it was locked—at least, so I am informed by Holker, who is quite sure that he shut it when he left the house on Sunday evening, the twenty-first of June—and deceased had no keys on him. But there is positive evidence that he got in by the window; for when I went into the front room, I found the window unfastened and open a couple of inches, and just underneath it I found a wash-leather glove on the floor, which was evidently the fellow of the glove that was lying on the wash-house floor under the body.”
“And with regard to the rope. Did deceased find that on the premises?”
“No. He must have brought it with him. I questioned Holker about it and he informed me that it was not his, that he had never seen it before and that there was no rope of any kind in the house.”
“Were there any signs that the body had been robbed?”
“No; and I think I can say definitely that it had not. There was not much in the pockets, considering the deceased gentleman’s position, but there were things in them that no thief would have left. For instance, there was a purse containing three sovereigns and a letter wallet with two five-pound notes in it. And the small value of the contents of the pockets seems to be satisfactorily accounted for, as Mr. Brodribb has informed me that deceased had emptied his pockets of most of his valuables, including his gold watch, before he left the club.”
“Ah,” said the coroner, “that is a significant fact. We must get the details from Mr. Brodribb. Are there any further facts known to you that ought to be communicated to the jury?”
“I think I ought to mention that deceased’s clothing was extraordinarily dirty and tumbled. The collar was excessively dirty and seemed to have been wetted, and so did the shirt at the neck; and the coat and trousers were very dusty at the back, as if deceased had been lying on a dirty floor.”
“What do you suggest as to the significance of those facts?”
“Taken with the fact that deceased left the club (as I am informed) on Wednesday, the seventeenth of June, and could not have entered the empty house before Sunday night, the twenty-first of June, the state of his clothes suggests to me that he had been wandering about in the interval, perhaps spending the nights in common lodging-houses or sleeping in the open, and that he had washed himself at pumps or taps and got his head and neck wet. Of course, that is only a guess.”
“Quite so. But it seems probable and certainly agrees with the known circumstances. Is there any thing more that you have to tell the jury?”
“No, sir. That is all the information that I have to give.”
“Any questions, gentlemen?” the coroner asked, glancing at the jury. “No questions. Thank you, Superintendent. Perhaps, before we hear the next witness we had better recall Mr. Holker in order that he may confirm on oath those of his statements which have been quoted by the Superintendent.”
Holker was accordingly recalled and formally confirmed those passages of the officer’s evidence (referring to the door and the rope) when they had been read out by the coroner from the depositions. This formality having been disposed of, the coroner glanced through his notes and then announced: “We will take the medical evidence next so that the doctor may be able to get away to his patients. Dr. Ross.”
Our colleague approached the table with less obvious self-possession than the experienced officer who had preceded him. But he was quite a good witness. He had made up his mind as to what he was going to say and he said it with a confident, authoritative air that carried conviction to the jury.
“You have made a thorough examination of the body of deceased?” the coroner said, when the witness had been sworn and the other preliminaries despatched.
“I have,” was the reply.
“And what was the result of your examination? You understand, doctor, that the jury don’t want you to go into technical details. They just want the conclusions that you arrived at. To begin with, how long should you say the deceased had been dead?”
“I should say that he had been dead not less than three weeks.”
“Were you able to ascertain the cause of death?”
“I was able to form a very definite opinion. The condition of the body was so very unfavourable for examination that I hardly like to go beyond that.”
“Quite so. The jury have seen the body and I am sure they fully realise its condition. But you were able to form a decided opinion?”
“Yes. I found distinct signs of death from asphyxia and I found nothing whatever to suggest any other cause of death.”
“Well,” said the coroner, “that seems to be sufficient for our purpose. Was there anything to account for the asphyxia?
“There was a deep groove encircling the neck, marking the position of the rope by which deceased had been suspended.”
Here the foreman of the jury interposed with the request that the witness would explain exactly what he meant by asphyxia.
“Asphyxia,” the doctor explained, “is the condition which is produced when a person is prevented from breathing. If the breathing is completely stopped, death occurs in about two minutes.”
“And how may the breathing become stopped?” the foreman asked.
“In various ways. By hanging, by strangling, by covering the mouth and nose with a pillow or other soft object, by drowning or by immersion in a gas such as carbonic acid.”
“What do you say was the cause of the asphyxia in this case?”
“As hanging causes asphyxia and deceased was undoubtedly hanged, the asphyxia was presumably due to the hanging.”
“That seems fairly obvious,” said the coroner; “but,” he added, looking a little severely at the foreman, “we mustn’t ask the doctor to provide us with a verdict. He is giving evidence as to the facts observed by himself. It is for you to decide on the significance of those facts. He tells us that he observed signs of death from asphyxia. We have heard from other witnesses that deceased was found hanging; the connection of those facts is a question for the jury. Is there anything else that you have to tell us, doctor?”
“No, I observed nothing else that is relevant to the inquiry.”
“Does any gentleman wish to ask the doctor any further questions?” the coroner asked, glancing at the jury; and as no one expressed any such desire, he continued: “Then I think we need not detain the doctor any longer. The next witness will be Herbert Weeks.”
On hearing his name pronounced, Mr. Weeks rose and took his place at the table. Having been sworn, he stated that he had been butler to deceased, whose father, Sir Julian, he had served in the same capacity. He had known deceased practically all his (deceased’s) life and they were on very intimate and confidential terms.
“Had you ever any reason to expect that deceased might make away with himself?” the coroner asked.
“No,” was the reply. “Such a thing never occurred to me.”
“Have you noticed anything of late in his manner or his apparent state of mind that might account for, or explain his having made away with himself? Has he, for instance, seemed worried or depressed about anything?”
Mr. Weeks hesitated. At length he replied, with an air of weighing his words carefully: “I don’t think he was worried about anything. So far as I know, there was nothing for him to worry about. And I should hardly describe him as being depressed, though I must admit that he had not very good spirit
s. He had never really recovered from the shock of losing his wife and his son—his only child.”
“When did that happen?”
“About ten years ago. They were both carried off by influenza within a few days, and Sir Edward himself nearly died of the same complaint. When he began to get better, we had to break it to him and I thought it would have killed him; and though he did at last recover, he was never the same man again.”
“In what respect was he changed?”
“He seemed to have lost interest in life. When her ladyship and the young gentleman were alive, he was always cheerful and gay and full of schemes and projects for the future. He was constantly planning improvements in the estate and riding about the property with his son to discuss them. He was very devoted to his wife and son, as they were to him; a most affectionate and united family. When they died, it seemed as if he had lost everything that he cared for. He took no further interest in his property but just left it to the bailiff to manage and turned his business affairs over to Mr. Brodribb.”
“And you say that he was changed in manner?”
“Yes. All his old high spirits went, though he was just as kind and thoughtful for others as he had always been. But he became grave and quiet in his manner and seemed rather dull and aimless, as if there was nothing that he cared about in particular.”
The coroner reflected for a few moments on these statements. Then abandoning this line of enquiry, he asked: “When did deceased leave home?”
“On Tuesday, the sixteenth of June.”
“Did he inform you what his intended movements were?”
“Yes. He said that he was going to spend a couple of days in London and that he expected to return home on Thursday afternoon. He told me that he intended to stay at his club as he usually did when visiting London.”
“Did you notice anything unusual in his manner on that occasion?”
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