'It's here. It's a little detached building in the back garden, about twenty yards from the house. I think it was intended to be a greenhouse once; but Hume didn't care, for that sort of thing. It's partly glass.'
H.M. nodded. 'What did the deceased keep there?'
'His archery equipment. Bows, strings, arrows, drawing-gloves; things like that. The odd-jobs man dyed the feathers there, too.'
'What else?'
'If you want the whole catalogue,' retorted the witness, 'I'll give it to you. Arm-guards, waist-belts for the arrows, worsted tassels to clean the points with, a grease-pot or two for the drawing-fingers of die glove - and a few tools, of course. Hume was a good man with his hands.'
'Nothing else?'
'Nothing that I remember.'
'You're sure of that, now?'
The witness snorted.
'So. Now, you've testified that that arrow couldn't 'a' been fired. I suggest to you that that statement wasn't what you meant at all. You'll agree that the arrow could have been projected?'
'I don't see what you mean. What's the difference?'
'What's the difference? Looky here I You see this inkwell? Well, if I threw it at you right now, it wouldn't be fired from a bow; but you'll thoroughly agree that it would be projected. Wouldn't it?'
'Yes.'
'Yes. And you could take that arrow and project it at me?'
'I could!' said the witness.
His tone implied: 'And, by God, I'd like to.' Both of them had powerful voices, which were growing steadily more audible. At this point Sir Walter Storm, the Attorney-General, rose with a clearing of the throat.
'My lord,' said Sir Walter, in tones whose richness and calm would have rebuked a bishop, 'I do not like to interrupt my learned friend. But I should only like to enquire whether my learned friend is suggesting that this arrow, which weighs perhaps three ounces, could have been thrown so as to penetrate eight inches into a human body? -1 can only suggest that my learned friend appears to be confusing an arrow with an assegai, not to say a harpoon.'
The back of H.M.'s wig began to bristle.
Lollypop made a fierce wig-wagging gesture.
'Me lord,' replied H.M., with a curious choking noise, 'what I meant will sort of emerge in my next question to the witness.'
'Proceed, Sir Henry.'
H.M. got his breath. 'What I mean is this,' he said to Fleming. 'Could this arrow have been fired from a crossbow?’
There was a silence. The judge put down his pen carefully. He turned his round face with the effect of a curious moon.
'I still do not understand, Sir Henry,' interposed Mr Justice Rankin. 'What exactly is a cross-bow?'
T got one right here,' said H.M.
From under his desk he dragged out a great cardboard box such as those which are used to pack suits. From this he took a heavy, deadly-looking mechanism whose wood and steel shone with some degree of polish. It was not long in the stock, which was shaped like that of a dwarf rifle: sixteen inches at most. But at the head was a broad semi-circle of flexible steel, to each end of which was attached a cord running back to a notched windlass, with an ivory handle, on the stock. A trigger connected with this windlass. Down the centre of the flat barrel ran a groove. The cross-bow, whose stock was inlaid with mother-of-pearl, should have seemed incongruous in H.M.'s hands under all those peering eyes. It was not. It suddenly looked more like a weapon of the future than a weapon of the past.
'This one,' pursued H.M., completely unselfconscious like a child with a toy, 'is the short "stump" cross-bow. Sixteenth-century French cavalry. Principle's this, y'see. It's wound up - like this.' He began to turn the handle. To the accompaniment of an ugly clicking noise, the cords began to move and pull back the corners of the steel horns. 'Down that groove goes a steel bolt called a quarrel. The trigger's pressed, and releases it like a catapult. Out goes the bolt with all the weight of Toledo steel released behind it... The bolt's shorter than an arrow. But it could fire an arrow.'
He snapped the trigger, with some effect. Sir Walter Storm rose. The Attorney-General's voice quieted an incipient buzz.
'My lord,' he said gravely, 'all this is very interesting -whether or not it is evidence. Does my learned friend put forward as an alternative theory that this crime was committed with the singular apparatus he has there?'
He was a trifle amused. The judge was not.
'Yes; I was about to ask you that, Sir Henry.'
H.M. put down the cross-bow on his desk. 'No, my lord. This bow comes from the Tower of London. I was illustratin'.' He turned towards the witness again. 'Did Avory Hume ever own any cross-bows?'
'As a matter of fact, he did,' replied Fleming.
From the press box just under the jury, two men who had to make early afternoon editions got up and tiptoed out on egg-shells. The witness looked irritated but interested.
'Long time ago,' he added with a growl. 'The Woodmen of Kent experimented with cross-bows one year. They weren't any good. They were cumbersome, and they hadn't got any range compared to arrows.'
'Uh-huh. How many cross-bows did the deceased own?'
'Two or three, I think.'
'Was any of 'em like this?'
‘I believe so. That was three years ago, and -'
'Where did he keep the bows?'
'In that shed in the back garden.'
'But you forgot that a minute ago, didn't you?'
'It slipped my mind, yes. Naturally.'
They were both bristling again. Fleming's heavy nose and jaw seemed to come together like Punch's.
'Now let's have your opinion as an expert: could that arrow have been fired from a bow like this?'
'Not with any accuracy. It's too long, and it would fit too loosely. You'd send the shot wild at twenty yards.'
'Could it have been fired, I'm asking you?'
‘I suppose it could.'
'You SUPPOSE it could? You know smackin' well it could, don't you? Here, gimme that arrow and I'll show you.'
Sir Walter Storm was on his feet, suavely. 'A demonstration will not be necessary, my lord. We accept my learned friend's statement. We also appreciate that the witness is merely attempting to express an honest opinion under somewhat trying circumstances.'
('This is what I meant,' Evelyn whispered to me. 'You see? They'll bait the old bear until he can't see the ring for blood.')
It was certainly the general impression that H.M. had badly mismanaged things, in addition to proving nothing. His last two questions were asked in an almost plaintive tone.
'Never mind its accuracy at twenty yards. Would it be accurate at a very short distance - a few feet?' 'Probably.'
'In fact, you couldn't miss?' 'Not at two or three feet, no.' "That's all.’
The Attorney-General's brief re-examination disposed of this suggestion and cut it off at the root
'In order to kill the deceased in the way my learned friend has suggested, the person using the cross-bow must have been within two or three feet of the victim?'
'Yes,' returned Fleming, thawing a little.
'In other words, actually in the room?'
'Yes.'
'Exactly. Mr Fleming, when you entered this locked and sealed room -'
'Now, we'll object to that,' said H.M., suddenly rearing up again with a wheeze and a flutter of papers.
For the first time Sir Walter was a trifle at a loss. He turned towards H.M., and we got a look at his face. It was long and strong, dark-browed despite its slight ruddiness: a powerful face. But both he and H.M. addressed the judge as though speaking to each other through an interpreter.
'My lord, what is it to which my learned friend takes exception?'
'"Sealed."
The judge was looking at H.M. with bright and steady eyes of interest; but he spoke dryly. 'The term was perhaps a little fanciful, Sir Walter.'
'I readily withdraw it, my lord. Mr Fleming: when you entered this unsealed room to which every possible entrance or exit was barred on th
e inside -'
'Object again,' said H.M.
'Ahem. When you entered,' said the other, his voice beginning to sound with "far-off thunder in spite of himself, 'this room whose door was firmly bolted on the inside, and its windows closed with locked shutters, did you find any such singular apparatus as that?'
He pointed to the cross-bow.
'No, I did not'
'It is not a thing that could be readily overlooked, is it?'
'It certainly is not,' replied the witness, with jocularity.
'Thank you.'
'Call Dr Spencer Hume.'
VII
'Standing Near the Ceiling -
FIVE minutes later they were still looking for Dr Spencer Hume, and we knew that something was wrong. I saw H.M.'s big hands close, though he gave no other sign. Huntley Lawton rose.
'My lord, the witness appears to be - er - missing. We -ah-'
'So I observe, Mr Lawton. What is the position? Do I understand that you move an adjournment until the witness shall be found?'
A conference ensued, in which several glances were directed towards H.M. Then Sir Walter Storm got up.
'My lord, the nature of the Crown's case is such that we believe we can save the time of the court by dispensing with his testimony and continuing with our evidence in the ordinary course.'
'The decision must rest with you, Sir Walter. At the same time, if the witness is under subpoena, he should be here. I think the matter should be investigated, and I will have steps taken in that direction.'
'Of course, my lord ..."
'Call Frederick John Hardcastle.'
Frederick John Hardcastle, a police-constable, testified as to the discovery of the body. While he was on duty in Grosvenor Square at six-forty-five, a man whom he now knew to be Dyer approached him and said: 'Officer, come in; something terrible has happened.'
As he went into the house, a car drove up; the car contained Dr Hume and a woman (Miss Jordan) who seemed to have fainted. In the study he found the prisoner and a man who introduced himself as Mr Fleming. P.C. Hardcastle said to the prisoner: 'How did this happen?' The prisoner replied: 'I know nothing at all about it and would say nothing more. The witness then telephoned to his divisional police-station, and remained on guard until the arrival of the inspector.
There was no cross-examination. The prosecution then; called Dr Philip McLane Stocking.
Dr Stocking was a lean and bushy-haired man with a hard, narrow mouth but a curiously sentimental look about him. He got hold of the dock-rail and never let go of it. He had an untidy string-tie done into a bow, and a black suit which did not fit too well; but his hands were so clean that they looked polished.
'Your name is Philip McLane Stocking, and you are Professor of Forensic Medicine at the University of Highgate, and advising surgeon to C Division of the Metropolitan Police?'
'I am.'
'On January 4th last, were you called into 12 Grosvenor Street, and did you arrive there at about seven-forty-five?'
'I did.'
"When you arrived, what did you find in the study?'
'I found the dead body of a man lying between the window and the desk, face upwards, and very close to the desk.' The witness had a rather thick voice, which he had difficulty in keeping clear. 'Dr Hume was present, and Mr Fleming, and the prisoner. I said: "Has he been moved?" The prisoner answered: "I turned him over on his back. He was lying on his left side with his face almost against the desk." The hands were growing cold; the upper arms and the body were quite warm. Rigor mortis was setting in in the lower part of the left arm and in the neck. I judged he had been dead well over an hour.'
'It is impossible to be more definite than that?'
'I should say death occurred between six and six-thirty. I cannot say closer than that.'
'You performed a post-mortem examination of this-body?'
'Yes. Death was caused by the iron point of an arrow penetrating eight inches through the wall of the chest and piercing the heart.'
'Was death instantaneous?'
'Yes, it must have been absolutely instantaneous. Like that,' added the witness, suddenly snapping his fingers with the effect of a conjuring trick.
'Could he have moved or taken a step backwards? What I wish to put to you,' insisted Sir Walter, extending his arm, 'is whether he would have had strength enough to bolt a door or a window after being struck?'
'It is definitely impossible. He fell almost literally in his tracks.'
'What conclusion did you form from the nature of the wound?'
‘I formed the conclusion that the arrow had been used as a dagger, and that a powerful blow had been struck by a powerful man.'
'Such as the prisoner?'
'Yes,' agreed Dr Stocking, giving a brief and sharp look at Answell.
'What were your reasons for this conclusion?'
'The direction of the wound. It entered high - here,' he illustrated, 'and sloped down in an oblique direction to penetrate the heart.'
'At a sharp angle, you mean? A downward stroke?'
'Yes.'
'What do you think of any suggestion that the arrow might have been fired at him?'
'If you ask me for an expression of a personal opinion, I should call it so unlikely as to be almost impossible/
'Why?'
'If the arrow had been fired at him, I should have expected it to have penetrated in more or less a straight line; but certainly not at any such angle as the arrow stood.'
Sir Walter lifted two fingers. 'In other words, doctor, if the arrow had been fired at him, the person who fired it must have been standing somewhere up near the ceiling - aiming downwards?'
It seemed to me that he just refrained from adding, 'like Cupid?' There were overtones in Sir Walter's voice that piled thick ridicule without a word being said. I could have sworn for a second a brief and fishy smile appeared on the face of one of the jury, who usually sat as though they were stuffed. The atmosphere was getting colder.
'Yes, something like that. Or else the victim must have been bent forward almost double, as though he were giving a low bow to the murderer.'
'Did you find any signs of a struggle?'
'Yes. The deceased man's collar and tie were rumpled; his jacket was humped up a little about his neck; his hands were dirty and there was a small scratch on the palm of the right hand.'
'What might have caused this scratch?'
'I cannot say. The point of the arrow might have caused it.'
'As though he had put out a hand to defend himself, you mean?' 'Yes.'
'Was there any blood from this scratch on the dead man's hand?' 'It bled a little, yes.'
'Did you, in the course of your examination, find a stain of blood on any other object in the room?' 'No.'
'Therefore it is likely that the scratch was, in fact, caused by the arrow?' 'I should deduce so.'
'Will you tell us, doctor, what took place immediately after your first examination of the body in the study?'
Again the bushy-haired witness glanced at the prisoner; his mouth had an expression of distaste. 'Dr Spencer Hume, with whom I have some acquaintance, asked me whether I would look at the prisoner.'
'Look at him?'
'Examine him. Dr Hume said: "He tells us some absurd story about having swallowed a drug; I have just examined him and I can find nothing to support it."'
'What was the prisoner's demeanour during this time?'
'It was collected, much too calm and collected; except that he would occasionally run his hand through his hair, like this. He was not nearly so much affected as I was myself.'
'Did you examine him?'
'In a cursory way. His pulse was rapid and irregular; not depressed as it would have been had he taken a narcotic. The pupils of the eyes were normal.'
'In your opinion, had he taken a drug?'
'In my opinion, he had not.'
'Thank you; that is all.'
('That's torn it,' said Evelyn. The prisoner's white fac
e now wore an expression of puzzlement; once he half rose in his chair as though to make an audible protest, and the two warders with him jerked to watchfulness. I saw his lips move soundlessly. The hounds were baying loudly now; and, if he were really innocent, what he must have been feeling was horror.)
H.M. lumbered to his feet and for a full half minute stood staring at the witness.
'So you examined him "in a cursory way", did you?'
H.M.'s voice made even the judge look up.
'Do you examine all your patients "in a cursory way"?'
'That is neither here nor there.'
'It is if they die, ain't it? Do you think a man's life should depend on an examination "in a cursory way"?'
'No.'
'Or that sworn testimony in a court of law should depend on it?'
Dr Stocking's mouth grew tighter. 'It was my duty to examine the body; not to take a blood-test of the prisoner. Dr Spencer Hume, I consider, is an authority sufficiently well known for me to accept his considered opinion.'
'I see. So you can't give first-hand evidence yourself? It's all based on what Dr Hume thought - Dr Hume, by the way, not bein' here now?'
'My lord, I must protest against that implication,' cried Sir Walter Storm.
'You will please confine yourself to what the witness says, Sir Henry.'
'Begludship's pardon,' growled H.M. 'I understood that the witness was confinin' himself pretty closely to what Dr Hume said ... Will you swear from your own knowledge that he had not taken a drug?'
'No,' snapped the witness, 'I am not going to swear; I am going to give an opinion; and I swear that the opinion I give shall be an honest one.'
The judge's soft, even Voice intervened. 'I still do not understand. You think it impossible that the prisoner should have taken a drug? That is the matter before us.'
'No, my lord, I 'do not say it is impossible; that would be going too far.'
'Why would it be going too far?'
'My lord, the prisoner told me that he took this drug, whatever it was, at about fifteen minutes past six. I did not examine him until nearly eight o'clock. If by any chance he had taken one, the effect would be largely worn off. However, Dr Hume examined him before seven o'clock -'
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