CHAPTER LI.
A DEAD LOCK.
"The Little Busy Bee" and the other evening papers were kept very busythat afternoon. So far as the examination of the witnesses and theCoroner's address were concerned, the inquest was over, and it hadbeen expected that the verdict would soon be delivered; but althoughthe jury had been deliberating (some persons declared squabbling)since three o'clock, and it was now past five, no verdict was yetreturned. It was rumoured that there was a serious difference ofopinion between them on more than one point, and it was certain thatthey had obstinately refused to be guided by the Coroner, whoseauthority they set at naught. In vain did he argue, remonstrate, andexpostulate with them; in vain did he draw up the form of verdictwhich he said it was their duty to deliver; they refused point blankto sign the paper.
Animated discussions took place as to what the verdict would be, andso keen is the love of sport in the British mind that odds were laidon this or that conclusion. A verdict of Murder against Mr. ReginaldBoyd was first favourite; two to one on it. A verdict of Murderagainst some person or persons unknown was second favourite, six tofour against it. A verdict of Murder against Mr. Abel Death, fifty toone against it. The names and the odds were freely bandied about, andthere were many persons who discussed them with a light, not to sayjovial, air; while Reginald and Florence, and Aunt and Uncle Robawaited the result with feelings it is not difficult to imagine.Quick to take advantage of opportunity, the newspapers poured outedition after edition, seizing upon the most trivial incidents asheadline-pegs upon which to hang their ingenious vapourings.
"At half-past four," records "The Little Busy Bee," "the Coroner againasked the jury whether there was any special or knotty point uponwhich they needed information or direction. The foreman replied thatthey did not need direction in matters of fact, but that there was adifference of opinion among the jury, who held such strong views uponcertain aspects of the case, that it was doubtful whether any definiteverdict would be arrived at.
"The Coroner: 'There must be a verdict of some kind. I presume there isno doubt in your minds that a murder has been committed?'
"The Foreman: 'None whatever. We are agreed upon that.'
"The Coroner: 'You know the common form. A verdict of Murder againstsome person or persons unknown would obviate the difficulty.'
"The Juror: 'It would not. I have followed the case very carefully,and have come to a conclusion.'
"The Coroner: 'You are open to reason, I hope.'
"The Juror: 'As open as yourself, Mr. Coroner, and, strange as you maythink it, I claim to possess an average intelligence. Throughout thewhole of this inquiry it has been forced upon me that there has beenfar too much dictation.'
"The Coroner: 'At whose hands, sir?'
"The Juror: 'At yours, Mr. Coroner. You have treated us like a flockof sheep, and I, for one, object to be driven.'
"The Coroner: 'I pass over the want of respect you show in your mannerof addressing me. Gentlemen, in my long service as Coroner this is anentirely new experience, and I greatly regret it. In view of theserious differences of opinion between you, it is advisable that youtake your law from me.'
"The Juror: 'I shall not. I stand upon common sense.'
"The Coroner: 'Gentlemen, this is foreign to the duty you are calledupon to perform. Continue your deliberations, and arrive at yourverdict as expeditiously as the interests of justice will allow.'
"It would be obviously improper," said "The Little Busy Bee," "at thisstage of the inquiry, to make any comments upon this very unusualscene. When the verdict is given we shall have something to say uponthe rights and privileges of coroners and juries, which seem to beimperfectly understood."
One of the most conspicuous headlines in the journals now was,"Deadlock among the Jury on the Catchpole Square Murder." It was wearywaiting for the parties vitally interested in the result. Florence andAunt Rob entreated Reginald to leave the Court, but he refused, andUncle Rob upheld him. "Reginald must remain till it is over," he said.He suspected that Reginald would be followed by the police if he wentaway.
Meanwhile, news of the rewards offered by Reginald for the discoveryof the murderer and of Abel Death had become widely known, and wasfreely discussed. And upon the top of this came another piece of news.All over London billstickers were pasting offers of another rewardoffered by Lady Wharton's lawyers for the discovery of her jewels, ofwhich a detailed list was printed in the bills. Advertisements werealso inserted in the evening journals to the same effect. So theexcitement was fed and kept up.
Once, when Uncle Rob went from the court to get a little fresh air,Detective Lambert came up and spoke to him.
"A long job," he said.
"A wickedly long job," responded Uncle Rob.
"I saw your nephew this morning," said Lambert, "sticking up thereward bills. He's the kind of chap that nothing comes amiss to; anall-round sort of chap; can turn his hand to anything. Just think of ayoung fellow like that turning bill-sticker. Not at all a bad move.It's a lumping reward, AL500. Do you know what he said to me? 'Why notearn it?' says he, and says it as if he meant it."
"He wouldn't have said it if he hadn't meant it."
"Will it be paid?"
"If it's earned," replied Uncle Rob, "and I hope to God it soon willbe!"
"Ah," said Lambert, and gave his brother officer a covert, sidelonglook. "See here, Robson. We had a private talk together, and I madeyou a promise."
"Yes, you did," said Uncle Rob, and accustomed as he ought to havebeen, as an inspector of police, to strange surprises, there was aflutter at his heart. But then it was a beloved daughter's happinessthat was at stake.
"I promised to give you timely notice," continued Lambert, "whensomething was going to happen."
"Yes."
"I never go from my word. Something _is_ going to happen. I'm onlywaiting here till the verdict's given, and then----"
"And then?"
"Your son-in-law's in Court, facing it like a man," said Lambert,branching off, "and I admire him for it. Supposing the verdict runs,'some person or persons unknown,' he'll be coming out with the ladieson his way home when the sheet's signed."
"Yes, he will; and if it runs the other way?"
"Meaning if it's brought against him by name?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, of course he'll be prepared."
"He's prepared for anything, Lambert; he's made up his mind to it: sohave we all." Uncle Rob spoke in a sad tone; these two men perfectlyunderstood each other, though the meaning of what they said would nothave been clear to a stranger.
"Step aside, Robson," said Lambert, and his voice was friendly, "andlet us talk as if it was the weather we were interested in. Cloudyto-day, fine to-morrow; there's no telling what changes to expect insuch a blessed climate as ours. So it is with human nature; up to-day,down to-morrow, and the other way round. All's well that ends well,eh?"
"Yes," said Uncle Rob, mechanically.
"Prepared for anything he is," Lambert went on. "I call that sensibleand manly; but he's been that all through. So what I say is, to save ascene, wouldn't it be a good thing to get your wife and daughter outof the way?"
"How?"
"Well, by letting them go home by themselves. When two women aretogether like that, with trouble ahead, they're a comfort to eachother. They must be tired out of their lives sitting in that stuffycourt all day. A pair of bricks I call them; I should be proud, Ishould indeed, Robson, if they were my wife and daughter. Proud youmust be of them--in a melancholy way, as things are, but that'snatural under the circumstances. Wheedle them home, Robson, and let usget the business over quietly."
Uncle Rob knew what was meant by "the business." "It's decided upon,then," he said.
"Yes, and I've got the warrant in my pocket."
"Whatever the verdict is?"
"Whatever the verdict is."
"Is there anything against him," asked Uncle Rob, with a sinkingheart
, "beyond what has come out in the inquest?"
"Nothing; but that is supposed to be enough to commence with. Get theladies away quietly, just whisper a word to him, and we'll walk alongas comfortably as possible, and no one the wiser. I've kept it snug onpurpose for your sake."
"It's kind of you, but there's no getting the women away; they'll notmake a scene," said Uncle Rob, huskily; he was thinking of Florence."We've talked it over among ourselves, and I think it would alter youropinion if you could have heard my son-in-law this morning."
"How do you know what my opinion is?" asked Lambert, in his mostleisurely manner.
"I _don't_ know. We couldn't help seeing the way the case was going,and if it could be done in a lawful and legal way, Reginald would notwait to be brought before a judge. He would go himself and say, 'Whathave you got against me? Here I am, ready to answer it.'"
"But it can't be done that way. There's a settled form to go through,and we must abide by it. Well, I've given my advice, and it's a pitythe ladies should be present, but if you say it can't be helped, well,it can't be, and there's an end of it. What do you think about givingthem a hint beforehand. It'll break the shock."
"Yes, I might do that," said Uncle Rob.
He looked up into Lambert's face; he could do that, being the shorterman by two inches. He was well acquainted with Lambert's character,and knew that he was kindly disposed towards him, but there was somuch more consideration evinced for his feelings than he couldreasonably have expected that it seemed to him as if Lambert waskeeping something in the background. Lambert returned his gazesteadily and impenetrably, and passed his hand over his chin with morethan his customary thoughtfulness, but there was nothing in thataction to enlighten Uncle Rob as to what was passing in his mind.Still he was emboldened to say,
"Speaking as we are in confidence, is there anything behind this,Lambert, that would bring hope and comfort to my wife and daughter?"
Lambert's hand travelled from his chin to his under lip, which hesoftly pinched as caressingly as if he were smoothing a favourite cat.
"Why shouldn't she hope?" he said. "What's going to be done is onlywhat might be expected. If her husband wasn't prepared for it ofcourse it would be different, but as it is----" He seemed to think theuncompleted sentence sufficiently expressive, for he did not finishit.
"You'll wait till the verdict's given?" said Uncle Rob.
"I'll wait a reasonable time; I can't say more than that, because Ishouldn't be surprised--and don't you be--if something happens that Ican't call to mind has ever happened before in a murder inquest, andthat is, that the jury will either give no verdict at all, or willgive one that the Coroner will refuse to accept. There's a man amongthem who's bent upon having his own way, and that will stick out likegrim death if he can't bring the others to his way of thinking. He's akind of animal not often met with on juries, but there he is, and hasto be reckoned with. A curious point, isn't it? But you can make upyour mind to one thing. So far as justice is concerned there will beno dead lock. I've got hold of the reins, and I'll see to that."
Uncle Rob searched his mind for a clue, and did not find it. Lambert'svoice was resolute and stern, and he was about to arrest a man to savewhose life Uncle Rob would have laid down his own; and yet here he wasunbosoming himself in a friendly and confiding way to the very personagainst whose happiness he was conspiring. It would have taken a wiserhead than Uncle Rob's to solve the enigma. What Lambert said next didnot help to make matters clearer.
"And don't take it too much to heart," he said, with a soothing pat onUncle Rob's shoulder. "I know what I'm about, so don't take it toomuch to heart. It's the advice of a friend, Robson."
"There's cold comfort in it when the charge is murder, and a man'slife is hanging to it," said Uncle Rob.
"Perhaps so, perhaps so, if you look at it only from the outside; butthere's another view."
"What is it?"
"That's _my_ secret. When I let it out you'll see what I'm driving at.I've done one or two things in my time, and this will be the climax."He smacked his lips with a relish, and repeated, "The climax. I put itto you, Robson, old man, whether it isn't better that the arrestshould be made by a friendly hand than by the hand of a stranger? I'mnot the only one who's itching to get the credit of clearing up amystery that's set all London ringing; and we're not half done with ityet, not half done. It's a feather in one's cap to be mixed up withit." He rubbed his hands. "No wonder others are keen upon it, butthere's only one man in England that's got his finger on the pulse ofthe mystery, and that's the man that's talking to you now, and takingyou, in a manner of speaking, into his confidence."
"And that is why you are going to arrest my son-in-law," said UncleRob, rather bitterly.
"And that is why," said Lambert, cheerfully, "I am going to arrestyour son-in-law on the charge of murdering his father, Mr. SamuelBoyd, of Catchpole Square. Before long you'll be shaking me by thehand, and thanking me for what I'm doing."
"Then you don't believe him guilty?" said Uncle Rob, eagerly.
"Don't ask me for opinions. I've been open with you for old times'sake, but my opinions, for the present, I keep to myself." He lookedat his watch. "What time are you due at the station, Robson."
"I must be there within the hour. I wish I'd resigned, or asked to besuspended."
"The worst move you could have made. Duty's duty. There was a Romanfather once--I don't remember his name--that sent his own son toexecution, and looked on while it was done."
"What do you mean?" asked Uncle Rob. His voice trembled, his fingerstwined convulsively.
"It's plain enough," said Lambert, half roughly. "You're on night dutyat Bishop Street Station."
"And the charge will be laid there!" cried Uncle Rob, a coldperspiration breaking out on his forehead.
"It's in the district; it's the nearest station. There's no help forit; I wish there was."
"They'll never forgive me, never!" said Uncle Rob. "My own child,Lambert, my own child! To strike a death blow at my own child!"
"Who's talking of death blows? Pull yourself together. It's better so;you can make things easier for him. As for forgiveness, they're notthe women I take them for if they harbour a thought against you.They're true grit, that's what they are."
"There's something going on in Court."
They hurried in together, and were present at another altercationbetween Coroner and jury, the leading actors in it being, as before,the Coroner and the recalcitrant juror. From the flushed faces of thejurymen it was evident that there had been a heated discussion.Finally the Coroner proposed to take the verdict of the majority, andanother difficulty presented itself.
"There's no majority," said the foreman, who appeared to be the mosthelpless of the party. "As a matter of fact we are split into threecamps of equal numbers, and no one will give way."
"Is there no possibility of your agreeing?" inquired the Coroner.
"If we were locked up for a week," replied the foreman, "I don'tbelieve we should agree."
"Well," said the Coroner, with a motion as if he were giving up thething in despair, "let me know in plain terms how the matter stands,and I will see what can be done."
"We will put it down in writing," said the foreman.
Thereupon the jury retired, and after a lapse of twenty minutes or soreturned with three documents, which were handed to the Coroner. Theyrevealed an extraordinary state of affairs.
The first, signed by four jurymen, was a verdict of Wilful Murderagainst some person or persons unknown.
The second, signed by four other jurymen, was a verdict of WilfulMurder against Abel Death.
When this was read out a shriek rang through the court, and Mrs.Death, starting to her feet, screamed in wild tones,
"You wicked liars! You liars! You wicked liars!"
With great difficulty she was silenced, and restrained from rushing tothe spot where the jurymen were clustered together.
The third document, signed by other four jurymen, was a
verdict ofWilful Murder against Reginald Boyd.
"Do you present these to me in all seriousness?" asked the Coroner.
"They are the conclusions arrived at by the jury," replied the Juror."With eight of my colleagues I do not agree, but for all that I havenot hectored them."
"Your conduct during this inquiry is open to severe censure," said theCoroner, "and you strangely misapprehend your duty. Gentlemen, youhave presented me with three separate verdicts, which you must haveknown I cannot accept. The dissensions which have arisen amongst youare deeply regrettable, and I tell you plainly you have not served thecause of justice. I have placed before you a form of verdict whichwould meet the general view of the case, and leave the matter open tothe proper authorities. You have declined to be guided by me, and I amafraid it would be useless to argue any longer with you. What do yousay, Mr. Foreman?"
"From the differences that exist between us, sir, quite useless,"replied the foreman.
"The position is a difficult one, and I must take time to consider it.I regret, gentlemen, that I cannot discharge you from your labours,but that is no fault of mine. You will attend this court next Thursdaymorning at eleven o'clock. By that time, perhaps, something maytranspire which will settle your doubts--which I trust," he added,"are conscientious doubts."
The announcement that their labours were not at an end was received bythe jury with murmurs of dissatisfaction.
"The remedy lies with yourselves," said the Coroner. "In a criminalcourt where the jury disagree, the case may be put back and triedagain before a fresh jury, but this cannot be done in a Coroner'sCourt. Before I finally discharge you, you will have to return averdict. You will be here this day week punctually at eleven o'clockin the morning."
The court then broke up.
There were still a great many spectators who had waited in theexpectation that a verdict would be delivered, and they filed outslowly, eagerly discussing the position of affairs, one man declaringthat the Catchpole Square Mystery, from first to last, was nothing buta series of the most startling sensations, adding, "And I'm greatlymistaken if there's not more to come." He rolled this round histongue, as if it were a delectable morsel. Detective Lambert, withoutseeming to notice Reginald, was almost the first to leave the court,and he stood outside, smoothing his chin, a target for all eyes, forhis fame had travelled far and wide, and it was already rumoured thathe had "taken up" the Catchpole Square Mystery. Two or three of thejurymen still lingered within the court, and glanced with curiosity atthe Robson group and at Mrs. Death, whose state of agitation it waspitiable to witness. Now she beat the air with her trembling hands,now she clasped them convulsively, while inarticulate words of protestdropped from her quivering lips. All these persons moved slowly to thedoor of the courthouse.
Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery Page 52