CHAPTER V
THE INQUEST
The next day at the time appointed, three o'clock, I attended, asrepresentative of the State, the Coroner's hearing. Since my interviewwith the Inspector, reported in the last chapter, I had seen no onelikely to throw any light upon the case. I had also avoided any personalinvestigation as I did not wish to form conclusions, preferring to givean unprejudiced hearing to the evidence as it was offered from the lipsof the witnesses on the stand.
When I entered upon the scene, the usual pomp and circumstance of suchproceeding were present. Behind his desk sat the Coroner, serious anddignified, as became the presiding officer of the occasion.
Ranged to his right were the jurors as I had seen them at the house, nomore intelligent in appearance now than then, but perhaps with evengreater solemnity in their bearing and expression, as was demanded ofthem in this hour of public importance.
I crossed over to the table on the Coroner's left, reserved for theState officers, and took a seat there with the Inspector, DetectiveMiles, and several policemen.
A mass of people filled the farther end of the room; most of themspectators drawn to the scene by the morbid curiosity that alwaysattends on such occasions. Conspicuous among them I recognized Littell,Davis, Benton, and others whom I knew to be present as witnesses. VanBult was not there, however.
Davis looked pale, nervous, and miserable. Poor fellow, evidently thissort of thing did not agree with him. Benton was also nervous andexcited, I could see. Littell looked somewhat bored and tired, but gaveme a nod and came over to me, making his way into the forbidden precinctwithout interruption, as can only be done by men such as he, who byquick and mendacious assumption are in the habit of getting what is notby right theirs.
As he leaned over my chair, he whispered: "This is a miserable affair,Dick!" I was not inclined for conversation, however, as I wished to givemy entire attention to the proceedings, so I only motioned him to achair nearby.
Without unnecessary delay, the Coroner briefly stated the occasion ofthe hearing, and then gave the results of his observation andpost-mortem. He did it with no more verbosity and display ofunintelligible technical terminology than the ordinary medical expertindulges himself in on such occasions.
The jury and audience were able to glean from his testimony withreasonable certainty, nevertheless, that White had died from a stab--Ibelieve he said "an incised wound"--made by a dagger or dirk or somesimilar slim, sharp instrument driven with great force into the back,just beneath the left shoulder blade, slightly downward in direction andpenetrating the heart,--such a blow as might have been given by a manstanding over him while he lay on his right side.
There was no other cause of death, for White was organically as sound asthe average man. In reply to a few suggestions rather than questionsfrom the Inspector, he added that, when he had first seen White abouteight o'clock the preceding morning, he had probably been dead somehours, he could not say definitely; that he died suddenly, probablywithout much outcry or struggle; that he had not killed himself, becausethe wound could not have been self-inflicted. This much was reasonablyclear from his testimony, and as he was not afforded bycross-examination an opportunity to explain or contradict himself, thejury was left with some information on the subject.
Dr. Lincoln, who succeeded him, told of his early call about seveno'clock by Benton; of his finding White dead, as described, on thedivan, and his subsequent assistance at the post-mortem.
In a very few words he corroborated the Coroner's testimony in allimportant particulars and left no doubt in any one's mind that White hadbeen murdered some time early in the night and with the stiletto, whichwas produced and identified by both him and the Coroner as the weaponthey found in the wound.
The sheath was also produced and fitted to the weapon and its locationover the divan described.
Benton was the next witness. He was laboring under considerableexcitement, but gave his evidence clearly. He testified to leaving Whitethe night of his death about quarter to one o'clock. That White had beendrinking, and was in an ill humor, but not drunk. That he had thrownhimself upon the divan almost immediately after we had left, and at thesame time had ordered the witness to go home, which order he had obeyedwithout delaying to arrange anything. In the morning he had returned athis customary hour, a little before seven o'clock, and had entered theroom, the door of which, contrary to custom, he had found unlocked. Thatthe room appeared just as he had left it and to his surprise he had seenWhite still upon the divan, apparently asleep. That he went over toarouse him and discovered he was dead and saw the dagger hilt protrudingfrom his back. That he had rushed out into the hall and called for help,then into the street, leaving the door open behind him, to find apoliceman. That he succeeded in doing so within the block, and returnedwith him to the house. When they got there they found the landlady andthe housemaid standing in the hall looking into the room, but they hadnot apparently been in. That by direction of the officer he next went tothe police station and reported the case, and then came to me. Afterwhich he sent a messenger for Mr. Littell and went himself for Mr. VanBult, but the latter had left the city by an early train, at least sothe servant said. That he had then returned to the house, where a largenumber of people were gathered. He knew nothing further about thematter.
The Inspector asked if there had been any money on the card table whenhe had left that night, to which he answered that there had been somelarge bills left by one of the gentlemen after the game, but that he didnot see them there in the morning.
The plaid cap, which had been found back of the divan, was here producedand shown him and he was asked if he recognized it. He respondedpromptly that it was a cap which White was in the habit of wearingsometimes on rough nights and volunteered the statement that both it anda corresponding ulster had been lying on the chair near the window thenight of the murder, but the latter was not there in the morning.
Benton was succeeded on the stand by Davis. The latter had little totell, however. He briefly related in a weak voice about our doings therethe previous evening, stating that he had left about the same time asBenton, leaving White stretched out on the divan, and had closed thedoor behind him. That he had gone up to his room and retired. In themorning about seven o'clock he was aroused by a commotion and the callof the housemaid and had dressed and gone down immediately to find Whitedead on the divan, as described. That a police officer was then in theroom, and the landlady and housemaid were in the passage. That shortlyafterwards others came, myself among the number.
He also testified that Van Bult had left four fifty-dollar bills on thetable the night before and that they were there when he left, but thathe did not see them in the morning; so, also, he said the plaid cap andulster had been on a chair near the window, but were missing in themorning.
He offered no further testimony and was permitted to leave the standwithout questions.
Littell was then called and told briefly and clearly what had happenedas I already knew it on the night of White's death. After reciting theevents of the evening, he stated that he had walked to Madison Squarewith me and then continued uptown to his hotel. That on the followingmorning while dressing, he thought about eight o'clock, he received anote from Benton, which he produced, telling him of the murder, and thathe had then gone at once to White's house and found things as they hadbeen described. He corroborated Benton and Davis about the missing moneyand the cap and ulster. He also was not cross-examined.
Van Bult was then called, but did not answer, and the sheriff's deputyexplained he was "non est." This, coupled with the statement of Bentonthat he had left the city early on the morning of the murder, createdsome stir among the audience, their first active demonstration ofinterest that I had observed, though they had given close attention toall the proceedings.
Next the day-officer on White's beat took the stand and told of his callby Benton, the visit to White's rooms, and his guard over them untilothers arrived on the scene and took charge. He confirmed
the statementsof the previous witnesses as to the conditions of the room and positionof the body, but as he had not come on duty until six in the morning, hecould give no information on the important matter of what happenedearlier.
The Inspector here leaned over and asked me if I cared to testify, butas I could throw no additional light upon the subject and preferred onaccount of my official position not to take the stand, I declined. Hethen suggested that as he had no further important testimony ready tooffer the hearing be adjourned to the second succeeding day.
I guessed that his purpose in omitting the testimony of thenight-officer was to collect evidence against Winters before disclosinghis case, but I felt it was only right he should do so and as I wasanxious that more should be learned if possible of the whereabouts ofthe ulster, I agreed to the suggestion and the hearing was accordinglyadjourned.
After requesting him to send Detective Miles to me the following morningto report, I gathered up the notes of the evidence which I had taken forlater use, and in company with Littell and Davis took my way to theCrescent Club.
As we walked uptown Davis seemed too depressed for conversation, whileLittell with his usual serenity contented himself with the remark thatit was an unpleasant affair and he hoped it would soon be over.
I was not satisfied, however, to let the subject pass in so indifferenta way, for I wanted some expression from him on certain points in thecase. I therefore asked him what he made of the disappearance of theulster. He answered rather impatiently, I thought, that he made nothingof it, that he did not see how he could be expected to under thecircumstances, as no one had furnished him any information on thesubject.
At this Davis, who always had an ear for the ridiculous, laughed in ahalf-hearted way.
I felt a little annoyed, however, at his indifference, more especiallyas I was confident that his astute mind had not overlooked the incidentor its importance, and I asked him rather sharply not to trifle with aserious subject, but to give me his real opinion, for I wanted it.
"Well, Dallas," he said, "if you must have it at this very undevelopedstage of the evidence, I think that when you find the ulster you will beon the track of the murderer," and after a moment's pause he continued:"The ulster was in the room when we left it and it was not there thefollowing morning. Some one, therefore, was in the room in the meanwhileand removed it. Now, it is very unlikely that more than one man wasthere, and that man must have been the murderer as well as the thief."He reflected a moment, and then went on: "The ulster, nevertheless, wasnot taken for its value, for to have realized on it the thief must havecontemplated selling it and no man in his right senses, who had beenguilty of murder, would have jeopardized his neck by selling any articletaken from the scene of the crime so conspicuous as that ulster. No," heresumed, after a moment's thought, "it was taken with some deeper designand is now either destroyed or safely hidden, or, more likely still,disposed of in some ingenious way that will only further baffle theauthorities when found."
Thus far Littell's reasoning had been similar to my own, only, as I hadto confess, clearer and more direct. I wished now to lead him a stepfurther and confront him with the dilemma that had met me when I learnedthat White himself had worn the coat out that night after we left him.So I told him that within less than half an hour after we parted withhim White had left the house wearing the ulster.
"How do you know that?" he asked.
"Because," I answered, "the night-officer saw him."
"Well," Littell said, "that is a curious coincidence, I admit, but itdoes not interfere at all with our theory. If he did leave the house,"he continued, reasoning apparently as much to himself as to me, "hecertainly returned, because he was murdered there, and upon returning heremoved the ulster and lay down again and the original conditions wererestored. I do not see that it alters the situation, except that itdrops the curtain a little later."
"Then," I said, "you adhere to the theory that the murderer took theulster?"
"Yes, I see no other solution," he replied.
I reflected that if Littell's reasoning were correct, then Winters, orwhomever the man may have been that the night-officer had seen comingout of the vestibule of White's house, had not been the murderer, and Idetermined to see what view Littell would take of it. I, therefore,related this incident to him and continued:
"This man, it is thought by the police, was concerned in the murder, buthe did not have the ulster with him when he left the house."
Littell looked puzzled for a minute and then answered:
"I adhere to my opinion just the same; if that man did not have theulster, he was not the murderer. His presence on the scene that nightvery likely had no connection with the crime."
"But," I insisted, "your reasoning is all premised upon the assumptionthat White must have worn the ulster when he returned, for otherwisethere would be no necessity for accounting for its disappearance. Is itnot possible on the contrary that he left it somewhere and returnedwithout it?"
"No," he said, "not on such a wet night and in evening dress."
"I admit its improbability," I acknowledged, "but is it not possible,nevertheless?"
"Not sufficiently so to be taken into account," he replied. "Most thingsare possible, but if we stop to consider all the possibilities in acase, we will have no time for the real facts and will arrive nowhereand accomplish nothing. Take my word for it, Dick! the man who committedthe murder took the ulster."
This was my opinion, too, and as we had reached the club no more wassaid.
On entering a servant told me that Mr. Van Bult was waiting for me inthe library; so we went there and found Van Bult seated in front of thefire with an unopened paper in his hands gazing abstractedly before him.We greeted him and then for some moments were silent. There was so muchto say and so little that seemed adequate. We four of all others weremost allied by friendship and intimacy with poor White and by theincidents of that night with the tragedy of his death. All seemed toooppressed with the memories of our last gathering to break the silenceand we stood waiting on one another for the first word. Several membersof the club in the meantime came to the door and looked in, but seeingus four together turned back. At last Van Bult said:
"I suppose the papers have told me all you men know. I learned of itfirst in Buffalo, and returned as soon as I could. I am sorry I wentaway at all, but it was a matter of importance and I suppose I couldhave been of no use here." He paused a moment, but none of us saidanything, and he went on: "So far as I can learn there is absolutely noclue to the mystery. I did not know that poor Arthur had an enemy inthe world. Is there any evidence of a motive?" he concluded.
"None," Davis replied, "except that the money you left on the table wasgone."
"That was a small sum to murder a man for," he replied; "and no one knewof its being there, either, but--" he hesitated, and then broke off:"Does suspicion attach to any one?"
I refrained from answering but Littell said, "No."
Noticing my silence, however, Van Bult turned to me and asked if thepolice knew more than the public.
"Yes," I told him, "they do; they think perhaps they have the rightman."
"It is clever work if they have really found him so soon," he answered,"for it must have been a blind trail to pick up."
"Too clever by much," said Littell; "I don't believe it."
"Nor I," I joined in, but more to myself than the others.
Davis ventured no opinion. He only looked from one to another of us aswe spoke. I doubt if the subject would have interested him at allexcept for our connection with it. After a while, in a pause in our talkhe suggested something "to eat and drink and billiards or anything tocheer us up," as he said.
I don't think any of us were averse to a digression from the subjectwhich hung over us like a pall and we took his advice and to allappearance, at least, the others put the subject away from them for theremainder of the night. It was never out of my thoughts, however; tillthe man who killed White was found and brought to
justice I knew I couldnot rest, and I fancy Littell and Van Bult had some idea of what was inmy mind, for they looked at me curiously now and then during theevening, and at parting Littell said:
"Cheer up, Dick, the world is full of the troubles of other people, andyou will find your own enough to worry over."
Van Bult only told me to go to bed and sleep as he bade me good-nightand went off with Davis, but I knew he also thought I was dwelling toomuch on the subject. I have no doubt they were right, but I could nothelp it and went to my room to pass a sleepless night.
A Master Hand: The Story of a Crime Page 5