The Murder League

by Fish, Robert L. ;

  Q. Was it loud buzzing or soft buzzing?

  A. It was soft at first, but it got louder and louder. I don’t remember after that.

  Q. Don’t feel ashamed. You have a fine memory, Mr. Corby, and I congratulate you on it. Now, to return to this buzzing you heard. Tell me, have you ever noticed the strange fact that when a shoe is passed stealthily across a marble floor—like the lobby of the Grafton Building, for example—it gives off a sound that is almost indistinguishable from a buzz?

  A. You’re right on that. Many’s the time I’ve sat in my little office and heard the buzz of feet on that lobby floor.

  Q. I believe you. Now let’s see where we are. At the moment when you fell asleep, which is a moment when the Crown places Mr. Simpson on the fifth floor and well beyond your range of hearing, you still heard someone slip across the lobby. But wait! How is it you didn’t see him sufficiently to identify him?

  A. Well, heavens, I’d just been fed some drug in my whiskey!

  Q. Of course! You heard this person, but because of the drug he had administered to you, you were unable to identify him—

  INTERRUPTION BY THE CROWN. Your Lordship! Really—

  LORD JUSTICE POMEROY. Quiet! This is most interesting. Continue, Sir Percival.

  Q. Thank you, your Lordship. So, Mr. Corby, even though struggling against the stupor induced by the drug this person had placed in your whiskey, you were still alert enough to note his presence, even though, unfortunately, you were unable to identify him personally. Is that a fair statement?

  A. Exactly! If he hadn’t doped my drink, I’d have seen him!

  Q. Which is probably exactly why he doped your drink. However, let us pass on to another aspect of this problem. Tell me, Mr. Corby, to what extent did you dislike Mrs. Bosler?

  A. That …! Well, we weren’t bosom friends, that’s sure!

  Q. We realize that, Mr. Corby. My question was posed for the purpose of determining the extent of your dislike.

  A. Well, I wouldn’t have thrown the old hag down the shaft, maybe, but I wouldn’t have bought her no bouquets, neither.

  INTERRUPTION BY SIR OSBERT WILLOUGHBY. Your Lordship! I really must object! Mr. Corby is not on trial here; his innocence has been established by none other than the accused himself!

  SIR PERCIVAL PUGH FOR THE DEFENSE. Your Lordship, permit me to answer my learned opponent. The defense is not attempting to prove a case against Mr. Corby. If you will bear with me once again, may I say that it is only through the combined efforts of the accused and the defense that Mr. Corby sits in this courtroom a free man. However, it is within the rights of the defense to show animosity on the part of third persons toward the victim of a criminal death—

  SIR OSBERT. But the accused admitted pushing her into the lift shaft!

  SIR PERCIVAL. The accused admitted nothing of the sort. The accused simply admitted being on the scene at the moment that Mrs. Bosler went into the shaft. However, if it will make the prosecutor for the Crown feel any better, the defense will stipulate that Mr. Simpson did indeed push Mrs. Bosler into the lift shaft.

  (Sensation.)

  LORD JUSTICE POMEROY. There will be quiet in the court, or the courtroom will be cleared! Sir Percival, did I hear you correctly? Are you, at this stage of the trial, wishing to change your plea?

  SIR PERCIVAL PUGH. Far from it, your Lordship. The explanation for that stipulation, as well as the connection between my line of questioning and the true facts concerning the death of Mrs. Bosler, will be brought out in due time. But in order to lay a basis for the case the defense intends to present, I must ask your Lordship to please restrain the natural enthusiasm of the Crown’s prosecutor so that I can proceed.

  LORD JUSTICE POMEROY. I am allowing you every latitude, Sir Percival, but I must warn you again to watch your language. You may proceed.

  Q. Thank you, your Lordship. Now, Mr. Corby, if you can still recall our conversation before we were so rudely interrupted, please answer my question.

  A. I’m afraid I got lost there…

  Q. I shall repeat the question in different form. Were you the only one in the Grafton Building who might have wished Mrs. Bosler dead?

  A. I didn’t wish her dead. I only wished she’d keep her fat lip to herself.

  Q. I shall make a third attempt. Bear with me while I bear with you. Can you visualize anyone in the Grafton Building—or out of it, if it comes to that—who might have wished Mrs. Bosler dead?

  A. The reason I didn’t want her dead was it seemed a pretty easy out for the old witch. What I—

  Q. Mr. Corby! Will you please!

  A. Oh! Have to answer them on the button, is that it? All right, then, if you want to know, I’d say there were precious few in the building who wouldn’t have paid to dance on her grave!

  Q. Thank you, Mr. Corby. It was a struggle, but thank you. No more questions, your Lordship. I may wish to call Mr. Corby as a witness for the defense, but at the moment no more questions.

  Witness: Sergeant R. Willets, Fingerprinting Department, Scotland Yard.

  Examined by: Sir Osbert Willoughby for the Crown.

  Q. Now, Sergeant, you have been qualified and accepted as an expert. Tell us, Sergeant: in the course of examining the Grafton Building, did you find any fingerprints later identified as belonging to the accused in any shall we say remarkable or unusual locations?

  A. Well, I found some on the indicator pointer over the lift door on the fifth floor.

  (Sensation.)

  Q. Anywhere else?

  A. Quite a few other places, but, of course, he admitted to being in the building.

  Q. But you definitely identify the ones you found on the indicator pointer on the fifth floor as belonging to the prisoner?

  A. Definitely.

  Q. Thank you. That’s all. Your witness, Sir Percival.

  SIR PERCIVAL PUGH FOR THE DEFENSE. No questions.

  Recess for lunch was called by Lord Justice Pomeroy at 12:45, at the end of Sergeant Willets’ testimony. Both Briggs and Carruthers, interested witnesses to the morning’s proceedings, emerged into the bright autumn sunlight with the intention of lunching, but their plans were temporarily delayed by the sudden appearance of Sir Percival Pugh at their side. He drew them from the crowd and into the privacy of a corner alcove, and glared at Briggs.

  “Those fingerprints on that pointer!” he said almost viciously. “Why do you think I made such a point of fingerprints? Or of Simpson’s wearing gloves? Did you think I was afraid that he, like Mimi, might get his little fingers cold? My Lord, man, what were you about? Why did you leave those prints there?”

  “Well,” Briggs said, defensively. “I told you the chair was a bit short. I couldn’t reach any higher. So what was I to do?”

  “God save me from midget helpers!” said Sir Percival Pugh. He glanced at his watch. “Well, there goes a good lunch hour! I shall have to dig up an explanation for those prints and then catch Simpson and have a heart-to-heart conference with him. Not that he’s going anywhere,” he added, and strode away before either of them could make comment.

  “You might think,” said Briggs resentfully, “that for ten thousand quid he could at least clean off his own fingerprints! Is it my fault I’m short?”

  But Carruthers had nothing to say. As far as he could see, the unexpected discovery of the fingerprints could well prove the straw that broke the back of any possible defense. It did not seem to him that they were in very good shape.

  The afternoon session began at 3:05 P.M. The questioning of witnesses continued.

  Witness: Mr. Chester Isbrandt, Chief Engineer of Arvo Self-Operated Lifts, Ltd.

  Examined by: Sir Osbert Willoughby for the Crown.

  Q. Mr. Isbrandt, have you examined the lift in the Grafton Building since the unfortunate death of Mrs. Bosler?

  A. Yes, sir, I have.

  Q. May I ask when you made that examination?

  A. The evening after the death of Mrs. Bosler. Scotland Yard called me in
to make the examination, because it seemed that a Mr. Simpson had appeared and confessed, and—

  Q. Yes, yes! There is no need to go into that. And what did you find in your examination?

  A. Well, it was a proper shame. Somebody had fiddled with the control panel and had managed to short it out. It—

  Q. Pardon me for interrupting, but I wish a bit of clarification. By the words “shorting it out” you mean they induced a short circuit?

  A. Yes. It was hard to see exactly what had been done, because the victim’s blood had seeped into the box, and the whole thing was a bloody—I mean a terrible mess.

  Q. I see. But the lift itself was operative? Other, of course, than the fact that the doors did not respond to normal control?

  A. Well, more or less. The cab would run, because that’s controlled from the motor in the housing on the roof. But it might not stop at any selected floor. The door controls are separate from the floor-selection controls, but they’re in the same box. If there were a loose connection in one set of controls or the other, only that one would be affected. With a short circuit, of course, almost anything could happen.

  Q. I see. Tell me, Mr. Isbrandt, you’ve had years of experience with lifts of the Arvo Company’s manufacture. Have you ever seen a short circuit of the type suffered in the Grafton Building occur by accident?

  A. Never. The system as it leaves our factory is foolproof.

  Q. So that if the Arvo lift in the Grafton Building suffered a short circuit, it would necessarily be man-made, and not accidental?

  A. It would have to be.

  Q. Thank you, Mr. Isbrandt. One further question, if you don’t mind. At the time of your examination, you also saw the indicator pointer on the fifth floor.

  A. I did.

  Q. And was it in order?

  A. No. It had shifted about, to point to the fifth floor while the cab was actually on the first floor below.

  Q. Is it at all possible that the pointer might have shifted by itself? That either a jarring or a vibration might have caused it to move by itself from its preset position?

  A. Quite impossible. The locking screw was quite firm, and the pointer was not loose. It had been locked in a false position. Besides, I was there when Sergeant Willets found Mr. Simpson’s fingerprint on—

  Q. Thank you, Mr. Isbrandt. No more questions. Your witness, Sir Percival.

  Cross-Examination by Sir Percival Pugh for the Defense:

  Q. There has been much said in this courtroom about this famous indicator pointer on the fifth floor. I wonder if you could furnish me with a bit more information about it, Mr. Isbrandt. The pointer is arranged, normally, in what manner?

  A. The pointer is arranged to indicate the floor at which the cab finds itself. When the cab is on the first floor, the indicators on all floors point straight up. Comparing its position to a compass, you might say that it would be pointing due north. The dial is divided into the number of floors the lift serves; in the case of the Grafton Building, in six sections. At the second floor it would point, therefore, approximately northeast. At the third, approximately southeast. At the fourth, due south. And so forth.

  Q. Thank you, Mr. Isbrandt. However, to eliminate any confusion, I have here a pencil and paper. I wonder if you could sketch me the pointer position for all floors?

  A. Gladly…. Here you are.

  Q. Thank you. Now, Mr. Isbrandt, may I ask, how long have you worked for the Arvo Lift Company?

  A. Thirty years.

  Q. And I imagine Arvo is one of the leaders in their field?

  A. Well, I’m not here to brag, but—well, yes.

  Q. In that case, your designs probably lead the field. So that it would be rather hard for an utter tyro to open the control panel of one of your lifts and be familiar with the control connections?

  A. That’s true, except he didn’t change any circuits. He simply shorted it out.

  Q. I note that you say “he.” Who is this “he"?

  A. Whoever shorted out the circuits.

  Q. I see. But you have previously testified that when “shorted out,” as you put it, the cab might not respond with any assured degree of accuracy. So how could this mysterious “he” to whom you refer be sure the cab would not be at the fifth floor when he had changed the pointer?

  A. Well, it would be five to one against it being at that floor.

  Q. True. But, of course, if it came to rest on the fourth floor, the roof of the cab would have been even with her feet. And if it had come to rest on the third floor, the distance would scarcely have been sufficient to guarantee, or even suggest, her death. What would the odds be against it coming to rest at either the third, fourth, or fifth floor?

  A. Why, one to one, of course. Even.

  Q. Scarcely good odds for one plotting a murder so carefully. However. Let us continue. You state that the Arvo Lift Company has never suffered a short circuit in its history. Are you familiar with the edifice at the corner of Everett Lane and Wycherly Circle? It carries the number 18 Everett Lane.

  A. Not offhand.

  Q. I’m rather surprised. My notes have it that less than six months ago the lift in that building suffered a short circuit in its connections, and—

  A. I remember now. That was the place that was struck by lightning. The bolt hit the lift housing on the roof and traveled down the cables to the control panel. But you can hardly call that—

  Q. Hardly call it what? A short circuit? What would you call it? And while we are on the subject, possibly you recall a building in Rampart Street?

  A. All right, I know which one you mean. That was the place where the porter was crackers. Wanted to paint the place up so pretty he even took the cover off the control box and painted inside. Nearly knocked himself into the middle of next week, and he deserved it.

  Q. Why? What happened? Not another short circuit in those lifts that never have short circuits?

  A. You’re picking pretty rare examples.

  Q. I’m not picking anything. I’m not the one who claimed that Arvo Lifts never have short circuits, Mr. Isbrandt. You are. However, let us pass on to another most interesting point. You say the porter was responsible for the short circuit in the control box in Rampart Street. Why?

  A. Because he put paint all over the contacts. Naturally it shorted out.

  Q. Had he filled the control box with water instead of paint, would the result have been the same?

  A. Naturally. Any liquid.

  Q. Even blood? I see you are thinking, Mr. Isbrandt. I shall leave you to your thoughts. No more questions, your Lordship.

  Reexamination by Sir Osbert Willoughby for the Crown:

  Q. In your expert opinion, Mr. Isbrandt, was the short circuit in the lift-control box in the Grafton Building the result of human agency or not?

  A. It was the result of human agency.

  Q. Thank you, Mr. Isbrandt.

  Re-Cross-Examination by Sir Percival Pugh for the Defense:

  Q. Have you previously experienced a control box in one of your lifts filled with human blood?

  A. No.

  Q. Thank you, Mr. Isbrandt.

  The file of the witnesses for the Crown continued. The doctors from the Bow Street Infirmary duly testified that the contents of Mr. Corby’s stomach had been analyzed and found to contain the remnants of a powerful barbiturate. Sir Percival Pugh nodded profoundly in lieu of cross-examination. Three woebegone typists from the J. G. L. H. N. M. Foundation testified that Mrs. Bosler had been a much misunderstood woman, and actually anyone who worked with her had loved her. However, their air of fright clearly indicated that even in death Mrs. Bosler had the power to terrorize. Rather than cross-examine, Sir Percival merely shrugged his shoulders elaborately.

  At last the final witness left the stand. Sir Osbert Willoughby returned to his table, dropped his papers upon it with satisfaction, and returned to the fray. He stood before the bench, sucking in his stomach in case any photographers wished to risk the wrath of the bench and take
a picture of him successfully concluding a case.

  “My Lord—the prosecution for the Crown rests.”

  Sir Percival Pugh also arose, waited patiently until Sir Osbert had reseated himself, and then, making quite a show of consulting his timepiece, turned to the bench.

  “My Lord,” he said quietly, “I note that it is only a bit after the hour of five. While it is still early enough to use a good portion of the day advantageously, the defense must admit it would like as much time as possible before presenting its case. For this reason the defense requests permission to delay the opening of its case until tomorrow morning.” He paused and studied the jury and the spectators with calculated calm.

  “However,” he continued in the dead silence that prevailed, “I should like to make a suggestion. I realize, even as I propound it, that it may well appear revolutionary, but actually, my Lord, I do not believe there is anything in the law contrary to it. It is my suggestion that, in order to save the time of the court, the jury, and our estimable and patient witnesses, the prosecutor for the Crown be allowed to fill in our remaining moments with his final summing up.”

  There was the beginning of a sensation, but the firm gavel of Lord Justice Pomeroy soon had it under control.

  “Sir Percival,” said his Lordship, “I have been on the bench for twenty-eight years, and in all that time I have never heard of such a suggestion. As the defense counsel is well aware, the procedure for jury trial has been established for centuries, and it is customary to have the final summations by both parties only after all witnesses, for both the prosecution and the defense, have testified. It is the only fair method, both for the accused and for the Crown. I will be frank and admit I have no notion whether or not the law has established this formula in written form, but I can easily plead precedence for insisting upon maintaining it. It would take longer than the court can afford to verify the validity of your statement, and therefore—”

  “Your Lordship!” It was Sir Osbert Willoughby, springing to his feet. “If I may have a word?”