'I see it,' replied Mottram evenly.
'Will you acknowledge now that the piece of feather couldn't have been broken off like that in a struggle?'
('My God,' whispered Evelyn, 'he's done it I')
Mottram did not say anything; he was too honest to comment. He stood looking from the shredded pieces of the feather to H.M., and shifted his feet. For the first time the prosecution had received a check. Whatever excitement might have been felt was doused by the cold sanity of Sir Walter Storm.
'My lord, I suggest that my learned friend's test is more spectacular than conclusive. May I see that feather which was used for the test?'
It was passed over to him, while he and H.M. nodded to each other. And now the prosecution was going to fight. So far they had experienced such a complete walkover that the business looked perfunctory.
H.M. made a rumbling noise in his throat.
'If you got any doubts of it, Inspector, just try the same game on one of the other feathers in the arrow ... I repeat: will you acknowledge it could not have been broken off as you said it was?'
'I don't know; I can't say,' retorted Mottram honestly.
'But you're a strong man, and you couldn't?'
'All the same -'
'Just keep to my questions. The feather WAS broken off: how was it broken off?'
'The guide-feather in that arrow was old and - brittle, like. Dried up. So if -'
'How was it broken off?'
'I can't answer you; sir, if you don't give me a chance to. I don't suppose a feather is any irresistible force that can't be broken in two.'
'Could you do it?'
'No, not with the feather you gave me.'
'Try it with one of those two remainin' old and brittle feathers. Can you manage it? No. All right. Now look at this.' He held up the cross-bow. 'Suppose you were fittin' an arrow into this bow. You'd put the guide-feather in the middle when you put the arrow into this groove. Wouldn't you?'
Mottram was a trifle rattled. 'You might; I can't say.'
'I put it to you: you'd shove this arrow back in the groove until it fitted against the projectin' mechanism?'
'You might.'
'And consequently, when you wound up the bow, I suggest to you that these teeth on the revolving drum would catch the end of the feather and grip it?'
'I don't know anything about cross-bows.'
'But I'm showin' one to you. Here it is. Finally,' roared H.M., before counsel could make any objection, I suggest that the only way a clean break could have been made in that feather - a clean break like the one there - was when the weight of a Toledo-steel catapult flew out and snapped it in two?’
He released the trigger of the cross-bow. There was a vicious snap, and the cords banged across the head of the bow.
‘Where is that feather?' enquired H.M.
'Sir Henry,' said the judge, 'you will please question: not argue.'
'If yrludshippleases,' growled H.M.
'I further take it that these questions have some relevancy?'
‘We think so,' said H.M., unmasking his batteries. 'At the proper time we're goin' to produce the cross-bow with which we'll suggest that the crime was really committed.'
An epidemic of creaking seemed to have afflicted the yellow furniture in the court. Someone coughed. Mr Justice Rankin remained looking steadily at H.M. for a short space; then he peered back at his notes, and the pen in his plump hand continued to travel. Even the prisoner was looking at H.M., but as though startled and only half 'interested.
H.M. turned back to Inspector Mottram, who was waiting quietly.
'Take this arrow itself. You examined it as soon as you arrived at Grosvenor Street?'
'I did,' answered the Inspector, clearing his throat.
'You've testified, too, that the dust on the arrow wasn't smudged except where you found the finger-prints?'
'That is correct.'
'Look at photograph Number 3 in the book, and tell me if you were speakin' the literal truth. What about that pretty thin vertical line that runs down the shaft of the arrow - blurred a little - where there's no dust?'
'I said that there were no other marks in the dust. That was true. There never was any dust in the mark you refer to. That was where the arrow had hung against the wall, and accumulated no dust. Like the back of a picture hanging flat against the wall, you know.'
'Like the back of a picture, you say. Did you at any time see this arrow when it was hanging against the wall?'
'Naturally not.'
'Oh? But you heard the witness Dyer testify that this arrow did not hang flat and dead against the wall; you heard him say it was set out a little on the staples?'
Pause. 'I know from my own observation that the other two arrows were flat against the wall.'
'Yes. They were two sides to a triangle; they had to be held upright and flat so that they'd stay like that. But what about this one that was the base of the triangle?'
'I do not understand your question.'
'Lemme put it like this. Two sides of that triangle were flat on the wall, hey? The third side, the base, crossed the bases of the other two arrows. Consequently, it was supported against those arrows and was about a quarter of an inch or more out from the wall. Will you accept Dyer's statement about that?'
'If my lord has admitted it as evidence, I accept it, yes.'
'Exactly,' rumbled H.M. 'But if it was a quarter of an inch out from the wall, it wouldn't be protected from dust, would it?'
'Not entirely.'
'Not entirely? You agree it wasn't against the wall? Yes. Then the whole shaft of that arrow would 'a' been covered with dust, wouldn't it?'
'It is a difficult question.'
'It is. And the whole shaft of the arrow wasn't covered with dust, was it?' 'No.'
'There was a thin vertical line smudged all the way down.the shaft?' ‘Yes.'
'I put it to you,' said H.M., holding out the cross-bow, 'that the only way a mark like that could 'a' been caused would have been if it had been put into the groove of a cross-bow and fired?'
Still holding out the cross-bow, he drew one finger down the groove in the bow, looked so malevolently round the court that we could see his face, and then sat down.
'Bah,'said H.M.
There was a slight sign of released breath in the court. The old bear was not yet blind with blood, and he had made an impression. Inspector Mottram, a quite sincere witness, had been given a bad time. It had not shaken him unduly; it had only solidified the lines of his jaw, and given him a look as though he wished for a give-and-take with claws on more equal terms; but he seemed anxious to receive the Attorney-General's questions in re-examination.
'We have heard several times,' began Sir Walter abruptly, 'about the "only way" a certain effect could have been produced. I call your attention to certain evidence in the photographs. It is clear to you that, when the arrow was snatched off the wall, it was jerked violently from left to right? You have already testified as to that?' "Yes, sir.'
'Wrenched so violently that the staples were pulled out?' 'That is so.'
'If you were making a motion like that, you would wrench and shake the arrow, and then pull it sideways?'
'Yes, that is what would be done.'
'Consequently, you would pull the arrow along the wall - and make a mark like the one indicated?'
'Yes, you would.'
Mr Justice Rankin looked down over his spectacles. 'There seems to be some confusion here, Sir Walter. According to my notes, there was first no dust at all. Now ' we hear that the dust might have been scraped off. Which of these two alternatives are you suggesting?'
'The matter is simple, my lord. Like my learned friend with his cross-bow, I was illustrating. My learned friend insists on speaking of the only way a thing could have been done. He can hardly object if I give him way upon way ... Now, Inspector. In your own home, I presume, there are pictures on the wall?'
'Pictures, sir? Plenty of pictures.'
'No, they have to be hung up.'
'And yet,' said the other, glancing towards the women on the jury, 'they accumulate practically no dust at the back of the frame?'
'Very little, I should say.'
'Thank you. With regard to the only way - the only way in the world a feather can be torn in half,' counsel went on, with rich and sardonic politeness, ‘I understand that in preparing this case you acquired some information about archery?'
'I did.'
'Yes. I believe that the guide-feather of an arrow - in this case, the one broken off - receives much more wear and tear than the others? What I wish to suggest to you is that it guides the end of the arrow to the string; and is therefore more apt to be chafed and damaged by hand or bow-string?'
'That is so. They have often to be replaced.'
'Is it impossible that in a struggle for this arrow between two men, one of them fighting for his life, the central feather should have been broken off?'
'Not at all impossible, I should say; though I will admit -'
'That is all,' snapped Sir Walter. He allowed an impressive pause while the witness left the box, and then turned to the judge. 'That, my lord, with the accused's statement, concludes the evidence for the Crown.'
The worst was over. Despite this re-examination, there had been a very slight lessening of the case against the prisoner: more a feeling of wonder than anything else. But wonder is the beginning of the reasonable doubt. Under cover of the noise, Evelyn whispered excitedly:
'Ken, H.M. is going to bring it off. I tell you I know it! That re-examination was weak. It sounded well, but it was weak; he shouldn't have brought up that business about dust on the backs of pictures. Of course there's dust on the backs of pictures, oodles of it. I was looking at the women on the jury, and I could tell what they were thinking. A little thing like that arrow would have been dusty all over unless it had been absolutely flat on the wall. Can't you feel that they're not certain at all now?'
'Ss - t! Quiet!'
The judge was looking at the clock while the clerk's sonorous voice rose:
'Members of the jury, when the prisoner was before the magistrates, he was asked if he had anything to say in answer to the charge; and being told that he need not say anything, but that if he did it would be taken down in writing and used in evidence at his trial, he said: "I plead not guilty to the charge made against me, and I am advised to reserve my defence. Through this charge I have lost everything in life that was of any value to me; so do what you like; but I am still not guilty. That is all I have to say."'
'If Sir Henry has no objections’ said Mr Justice Rankin briskly, 'we will adjourn the court until to-morrow.'
Bumping, shuffling, we all got to our feet as the judge rose.
'All persons who have anything more to do before my Lords the King's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and general gaol delivery for the jurisdiction of the Central Criminal Court' - the rain was pattering steadily on the glass roof; it was the tired hour when you think of cocktails - 'may depart hence and give their attendance here again to-morrow, at ten-thirty o'clock.'
'God Save the King, and my Lords the King's Justices.'
Again the pause broke. The judge turned round, and went stumping along behind the bench at his brisk and pigeon-toed walk. Court-room Number One broke up into individuals, all with lives and thoughts of their own, moving round hats and homes. Someone yawned audibly, and then a voice spoke suddenly with great distinctness:
'Watch him, Joe!'
It came with a shock. We all turned round at the commotion in the dock. The two warders bad sprung forward with their hands on the shoulders of the prisoner. Nearly at the trap leading down into the cells, Answell had turned round and walked swiftly towards the rail again. We heard his footsteps rap on that dance-floor which, has been polished by the feet of so many now dead. But he did not attempt any action. He stood with his hands on the edge of the dock, and spoke with fierce clarity. To hear his voice was like hearing a deaf-and-dumb man speak.
'What's the use of going on with this? That piece of feather broke off the arrow when I stabbed him. I killed the old swine, and I admit it; so let's get this over with and call it a day.'
IX
'Red Robes Without Hurry'
IF anybody had asked me what would probably happen in case of a commotion like this, I should have thought of every contingency except what really happened. We all looked at the judge, since the prisoner was speaking to him. By this time Mr Justice Rankin had nearly reached the door, at the right-hand side behind the bench, by which he entered and left. For perhaps a tenth of a second his brisk step hesitated. For perhaps a tenth of a second he turned his head slightly, with a blank gaze of deafness and non-recognition. Then his red robes - without any hurry - disappeared through the door, and it closed behind his tie-wig.
He 'had not heard' the words which the prisoner, with fierce distinctness, was shouting across that void. So we did not hear them either. Like a room of mutes we bent to gather up our hats, our umbrellas, our parcels; we shuffled our papers, and looked at the floor, and pretended to say something to the person beside us ...
'My God, won't anybody listen to me? Don't you hear what I'm saying? You - listen -' The jury were going out on sheep-fashion, and not one of them looked round, except one scared woman who was touched on the arm by their guardian. 'Please, for God's sake listen to me I killed him; I'm admitting it; I want you to -'
The soothing mutter of the warder droned. 'All right, my lad; all right; down here; easy does it; take him easy, Joe - ce - easy –‘
Answell stopped, and seemed to be looking from one warder to the other. Our glances did not go higher than the buttons of his waistcoat, yet you had an impression that he felt more trapped now than he had ever been before. His eyes looked hot and puzzled when they hauled him across to the trap.
'But listen! - wait, I don't want to go - no; wait a bit -I - aren't they going to listen to me? I admit it, d'ye hear?'
'Sure, my lad; plenty of time, e-easy there; mind that step -'
We went out in good order, leaving a dead schoolroom full of yellow furniture, and we did not comment. Lolly-pop, looking white, made a sign to me which I interpreted as: 'Downstairs'; I could not see H.M.in the crowd. They began to switch out the lights. A sort of network of shuffling whispers caught us all together.
Someone said in my ear: '- and all over but the hanging.'
'I know,' muttered another voice. 'And yet, for a couple of seconds there, I almost thought -'
'That he mightn't have done it?'
'I don't know: not exactly: and yet -'
Outside Evelyn and I conferred. 'They're probably right,' she admitted; 'and I don't feel so well. I say, I've got to go, Ken. I promised Sylvia to be there at six-thirty. Are you coming?'
'No, I've got a message for H.M. Simply "yes" from the Hume girl. I'll wait.'
Evelyn drew her fur coat closer. 'I don't want to stay now. Oh, blast it all, Ken; why did we have to come here? That - that cooks his goose, rather, doesn't it?'
'Depends on whether it's evidence, and apparently it isn't."
'Oh, evidence -!' said Evelyn contemptuously. 'Bother evidence I What would you have felt if you had been on that jury? That's what counts. I wish we hadn't come here; I wish we'd never even heard of the case! What is the girl like? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. That last business - G'bye, darling. See you later.'
She hurried away into the rain, and I was left glowering in the crowd. People were scuttling like chickens at the door of the Old Bailey, though the rain had almost ceased. There was a now-we're-out-of-school look about it. A bitter wind whisked round the corner of the building, and the lines of gas-lamps in Newgate Street were palely solemn. Among the crush of cars waiting for their dignitaries I found H.M.'s closed Vauxhall (not a certain Lanchester of weird memory), with his chauffeur Luigi. I leaned on the car and trie
d to smoke a cigarette against the wind. Memories were strong to-night. Up there, past St Sepulchre's Church, ran Giltspur Street: off Giltspur Street was Plague Court, among whose ghosts H.M. and I had walked some years ago: and at that time there had been no thought of murder in James Caplon Answell's mind. The crowd from the Old Bailey thinned slowly. After a general shooting of bolts had begun, a couple of City-of-London policemen - with their humped helmets like firemen's hats in blue cloth - came out and looked the situation over. H.M. was almost the last to leave. He came stumping out with his own unwieldy top-hat stuck on the back of his head, his overcoat with the moth-eaten fur collar flying out behind; and I could tell by the profane movements of his lips that he had been having a talk with Answell.
He pushed me into the car.
'Grub,' H.M. said succinctly. He added: 'Oh, my eye, the young assl That's torn it.' 'So he's really guilty after all?'
'Guilty? No. Not him. He was only bein' a decent young feller. I got to get him out of this, Ken,' said H.M. sombrely. 'He's worth saving.'
A passing car, as we turned into Newgate Street, merely brushed our mudguard; and H.M. leaned out of the window and cursed with such resonance and imaginativeness that it was an index to his state of mind.
'I suppose,' H.M. went on, 'he thought he'd only got to come out and confess, and the judge would say: "O.K., son, that's enough; take him out and string him up," straightaway, d'ye see?'
'But why confess? And, anyway, is it evidence?'
H.M.'s attitude towards this was much like Evelyn's. 'Of course it ain't evidence. The point is the effect it's goin' to have, even if old Balmy Rankin tells 'em to disregard it. I got great faith in Balmy, Ken ... But did I hear you thinking the worst is over when the Crown gets -through with its evidence? Son, our troubles haven't begun. It's the cross-examination of Answell that I'm dreadin’. You ever hear Walt Storm cross-examine? He takes 'era to pieces like a clock and then dares you to put all the little wheels back into place. I'm not legally bound to put Answell into the box; but if I don't I'm wide open to any comments Storm wants to make, and the story of this murder can't be complete unless I do put the feller there. What I'm afraid of is that my own witness may go back on me. If he stands up there and swears what he just said a while ago - well, that will be evidence and the old man's licked.'
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