The Benefits of Death

by Roderic Jeffries

  Herald did not try to hide his pleasure at being able to escape from the dark, dripping, clay-bound woods.

  *

  Six test bullets were fired from the .455 Webley, found in Frog Wood, into a long steel box which was packed tight with cotton-wool. The six bullets were then recovered. The incriminating bullet — the one taken from the clay in the wood — was, together with one of the test bullets, fitted into a comparison microscope which merged the two images into one by means of the eyepiece. This experiment, as expected, gave a positive identification and photographs were taken.

  *

  A scientist carefully placed the label, removed from the chemist’s bottle, on to a sheet of plain cardboard and photographed it under ultra-violet light. This failed to bring up the washed-out writing. He placed ammonium sulphide in a dish in a cupboard and added hydrochloric acid, rested the cardboard above the dish so that the fumes played on it, and shut the front of the cupboard. He lit a cigarette.

  Twenty-five minutes later, brown writing appeared on the label and it was photographed before it had time to disappear again.

  “Mrs. Leithan. Take one tablet, to be crushed in mouth, as required.”

  *

  Murch muttered something about his ulcer and became even more morose when he was not offered any sympathy; Jaeger fidgeted with his pipe; the uniformed superintendent signed his name to some of the many reports that had to be sent to H.Q. There was a knock on the door and a police cadet showed a man wearing black coat and striped trousers into the room.

  “Good morning,” said the newcomer.

  “‘Morning, Mr. Turkaine,” replied the uniformed superintendent. “Still peddling law?”

  Turkaine, a very solemn member of the D.P.P.’s office, looked annoyed. He sat down in the empty chair, opened his brief-case and brought out a folder in which were a number of papers neatly tied in white tape. He coughed. “This is an unusual case, of course, since the body of the deceased has not yet been recovered. It would make things very much easier if you could find it.”

  Jaeger spoke. “We’ve searched the place dry.”

  “Quite so. But I tell you perfectly frankly, a murder case without a body is a very tricky affair. Very tricky.” Turkaine looked round and his prim features suggested a certain delight at the professional complexity of the case. “The law in the matter, you must understand…”

  “Just before we go into that, sir,” broke in Jaeger, “I wonder if you’d answer a question?”

  “What?”

  “With the evidence we now have, do you think a case can be brought if one bears in mind the fact that it’s obvious, because of the position of the hair in relation to the dog, that the dead woman was dragged to the road and removed in a car?”

  “I was obviously intending to deal fully with that question later on, but since you’ve brought it up I suppose I might as well answer it now. There are no facts which will prove that the body was dragged to the road.”

  “No, sir, but since the hair…”

  “I mentioned facts, Inspector. You must not forget that we have to present the jury either with facts that speak for themselves or else with circumstantial evidence so strong they must accept it. You and I may be satisfied that the missing bullet is in the dead woman, that she was dragged to the road and there loaded into a car and taken somewhere else to be buried by a man who was being so careful that he would not leave the body in the same place as the dog — but we have to prove this to the jury. Therefore we must search the woods for the negative evidence of the absence of a grave or a body.”

  “But we have searched Frog Wood, sir.”

  “You must include Roman Woods.” Turkaine held up his hand. “I’ve read the report and know perfectly well the size of these woods and how closely they resemble a jungle, also that the keeper has reported nothing. To this, my reply is first, that the keeper knew nothing about the dead dog, the hole, the handbag and the suitcase, so obviously his evidence is not sufficiently reliable, and secondly, no matter how dense the woods, the search must be made — including, let it be clearly understood, the three lakes. They must be dragged. We must forestall an obvious line of attack of the defence.”

  “What about all the other woods in the district?” said the D.I. with mild sarcasm.

  “I doubt whether I need ask you to go through all of them as well. I rather imagine the jury will be sufficiently impressed by the evidence you will be presenting, regarding the tremendous effort involved in overcoming the hazards of nature to be found in Roman Woods.”

  The D.I. was surprised to discover that the other was human enough to return the sarcasm.

  “Now, as to the legal position.” Turkaine, unaware of what he was doing, rubbed his hands together. “In the case of Regina and Onufrejczyk, it was held…”

  *

  The police searched Roman Woods. They forced their way through acres of dead bracken and brambles, through rhododendron bushes that had spread so thickly they were almost impenetrable, and they dragged the three lakes. As they could have told the D.P.P.’s office from the very beginning, they found nothing. But then, being civil servants, the D.P.P. men wanted two dots to every i and two crosses to every t.

  *

  Leithan had, back in September, been invited to a shoot on the Saturday before Christmas. On the Friday evening, he telephoned to say he was afraid he could not turn up. He thought he heard relief in the other man’s voice. He was not surprised. By now, it was generally known in the district that he was suspected of having murdered his wife.

  On the Saturday morning, Pamela returned from Ashford at twelve-fifteen. She had had her hair trimmed and was wearing a new dress. As Leithan told her, just before he kissed her, she looked very beautiful.

  She smiled. “Sometimes, Charles, you almost become romantic.”

  “And what’s the word ‘almost’ doing there?”

  “It’s explaining that, with typical male arrogance, you’re already taking me for granted. I’m no longer a mistress to be flattered, only a housewife to be cursed if things aren’t run efficiently.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Thank you for those few kind words, which explain everything so much more clearly than ever I could have done.”

  He tickled her and, as always, she soon had to call for peace. “If you carry on,” she gasped, “I won’t give you your pre-Christmas present.”

  He stopped and kissed her. “Where and what?”

  “In the car.”

  Arm-in-arm they went over to the Rapier. On the back seat were a number of packages, one of which was obviously a magnum-sized bottle. He picked it up.

  “Trust you to recognise it if it’s drink!”

  He began to shiver from the contrast between the temperature outside and inside and hurriedly carried the shopping basket and the bottle into the house.

  Back in the sitting-room, he tore off the brown paper covering the bottle. “Heidsieck, forty-seven. The girl has taste. Where are the nearest glasses?”

  “Just you and I can’t drink it.”

  “What’s the use of a present if it doesn’t lead to dissipation. If only I can make you sufficiently giggly…” He whispered in her ear and she called him a dirty old man.

  He felt the bottle to decide whether it needed chilling and gladly decided the day had already sufficiently done that. He went through to the kitchen and returned with three tall, fluted, champagne glasses — Mrs. Andrews had to be offered a little.

  He opened the bottle and poured out three glassfuls and Mrs. Andrews entered the room and drank with a speed and determination that might have suggested she was having to take medicine. When the glass was empty she returned to the kitchen.

  “Here’s to us,” said Leithan, as he refilled his glass.

  “To us, Charles. Maybe the luck will begin to run with us now.”

  With harsh irony, the police car arrived as she finished speaking. They watched Jaeger and Watters climb out.

  Leit
han drained his glass and for him, all the bubbles had disappeared.

  The detectives were shown into the room by an openly indignant Mrs. Andrews, who slammed the door shut as she left.

  Jaeger spoke quietly. “Charles Leithan, I am arresting you for the murder of your wife, Evadne Leithan. I intend to take you to Ashford police station where you will be charged. Neither here nor there are you obliged to say anything, but anything you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence.”

  “It’s…” Pamela choked and became silent.

  “We found the dog,” said Jaeger, not unkindly.

  “Dog?” muttered Leithan.

  “It had been shot with your revolver.”

  “Stymie?”

  “It was a Cuenca.”

  “That’s ridiculous. She can’t have been shot. Stymie can’t have been shot,” repeated Leithan wildly.

  Chapter XIII

  Leithan was escorted up the stairs and into the dock which stood in the centre of the assize court. As he encountered the gaze of so many, he instinctively retreated a step. The policeman behind him seemed to think he was going to panic and murmured: “Take it easy.”

  Events blurred together and the next positive event of which he was aware was when he heard his name. He forced himself to concentrate and saw that Enty and Tarnton were standing by the side of the dock.

  “Charles, Mr. Tarnton wants a word with you before the judge comes in,” said Enty.

  “Yes?”

  Tarnton was one of the few Q.C.s whose name was very widely known to the public. “Have you been able to remember anything which will help to show ill-will on the part of the Pochard girl?” He had an angular face, with a pointed nose and upturned chin. His eyes were a very light blue, so blue that even behind his spectacles they were his most noticeable feature.

  Leithan tried to forget all the people who were staring at him. “Sarah Pochard hardly stayed long enough to show either good- or ill-will. The only thing I can remember is that I had to tell her to get on with the work once or twice.”

  Tarnton rested his proof on the edge of the dock and wrote in the margin of it. “Can you give me definite occasions and the words used?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Was she slack?”

  “Completely.”

  “D’you remember her evidence at the preliminary hearing regarding the row between you and your wife?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “You’ll have to remember better than vaguely, Mr. Leithan, for everybody’s sake. How much of what she said was accurate?”

  Leithan desperately tried to think back. “I can’t swear any of it’s inaccurate.”

  “Pity. Now, what about the revolver?”

  “The last time I saw it, it was in the usual drawer. Look, I couldn’t have shot Stymie. I couldn’t have shot her.”

  Tarnton raised his eyebrows that were still black and in sharp contrast to such of his silver hair as was visible beneath his somewhat dirty wig. “I suggest you concentrate more on the unlikelihood of your having shot your wife,” he said dryly.

  “For God’s sake, Charles,” said Enty, “forget the dog. Remember that the jury might misunderstand what you’re saying. And try to look and sound as if you’re fighting the charge.”

  Wearily, Leithan supposed they were right. They were the experts.

  The usher called for silence, the red-robed judge came through the open doorway on to the dais and, just before he sat down, bowed in return to the bows of counsel. Mr. Justice Cator had an unusual looking face — one counsel, who had reason to dislike him, always said he looked like a rather tired marmoset.

  Tarnton and Enty went to their benches. Leithan was called to the bar and the indictment was read out: his plea of not guilty was taken: the jury were called and sworn.

  Alliter, Q.C., prepared to open the case.

  *

  “…Members of the jury,” said Alliter, soon after he had begun to speak, “I feel I should outline the law concerning murder when there is no body of the deceased.”

  “Mr. Alliter,” said the judge, and his voice was very deep for a small man, “I shall naturally be dealing with that point at some length myself.”

  “Quite so, my Lord, but I feel the jury should appreciate the law before we go too deeply into the facts.”

  “Very well.” The judge leaned back in his chair in a resigned manner.

  “Members of the jury,” repeated Alliter, “as you know, the prisoner is charged with the murder of his wile, the body of whom has not been recovered. Although such proceedings are unusual, they are certainly not unique and the law in the matter is quite clear.

  “Many of you will have heard the expression corpus delicti. Contrary to popular belief, this does not refer to the body. What it does mean is that a crime has been committed; or, to put it in another way, that the person to whom the charges relate is dead and that the person’s death has been caused by a crime.

  “The fact of death can be proved in two ways. Directly, by medical examination of a body by a competent physician who pronounces life to be extinct, or circumstantially, which means a case where all the circumstances point to one conclusion — the death — and cannot point to another, and in which there is no shadow of doubt in any mind that the person must be dead.

  “The burden of proving everything in this trial is on the Crown: which means that, for a verdict of guilty, if there were no answer from the prisoner at the end of the case for the prosecution, you would be certain that the prosecution’s contentions were right. If, however, you are not so satisfied, there is no need for the prisoner — in order to clear your minds — to answer any of the queries that have been raised; there is absolutely no burden on him.” Alliter looked at the judge and the expression on his lean face was a trifle sardonic. “I trust, my Lord, you approve?”

  “I found nothing, Mr. Alliter, of which I could specifically disapprove.”

  Alliter continued speaking to the jury. “Those are some of the points you must constantly bear in mind. You have to be satisfied that the prosecution makes it one hundred per cent clear that there can be no explanation for the known and proved facts other than that Evadne Leithan is dead, that she was murdered — and you will note that although we say she was shot, this is not a case of capital murder — and that the prisoner, Charles Leithan, murdered her.

  “What are these facts? What has taken place to make it quite certain…”

  *

  The first witness to be called was the ticket-collector. He had put on his Sunday suit and was enjoying his appearance in court.

  After the preliminary questions had been put and answered, Alliter, noted in many Bar messes as a vocal vegetarian, said: “Were you on duty at the gates of the up platform of Ashford station on Sunday, 18th November?”

  “I was.”

  “Were you there between ten and twelve-thirty?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All the time?”

  “Without a single break.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “I know that day, I do. It was when there was all that fog and the trains was running late.”

  “Do you know Mrs. Leithan?”

  “Not much, I don’t. I was bitten by one of her dogs, and when I accidentally kicked it, like, she went and reported me. Didn’t do no good, though,” he added, with satisfaction.

  “Did you see Mrs. Leithan between the hours of ten and twelve-thirty on Sunday, 18th November, last year?”

  “No.”

  Alliter sat down. Tarnton stood up and smiled pleasantly. “I suppose you’re certain you know Mrs. Leithan by sight?”

  “Not much, I ain’t.”

  “Tell me, how many travellers do you see each day?” Tarnton’s voice was calm and musical and it possessed the rare quality that it was interesting to listen to, no matter what he was saying.

  “I don’t know. Thousands, maybe.”

  “I suppose you wouldn’t claim to r
ecognise all of them?”

  “Most of ’em. I’ve a mind for faces. They kind of stick in me memory. Many’s the time I’ve said to the missus…”

  “Knowing so many faces, you might, of course, easily confuse one with another?”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “You might recognise A on the eleven o’clock, B on the twelve o’clock, and inadvertently switch them around in your mind?”

  “I don’t get it.”

  Patiently, Tarnton simplified his question and then continued with the cross-examination. It was not long before he brought it to a close. The witness was certain that Mrs. Leithan had not travelled on the eleven forty-two and nothing would shake his certainty. Tarnton had been pretty sure that that was how it would be, but this was one of the rare trials in which it would be safe thoroughly to cross-examine some witnesses even though their stories were quite definite and unlikely to be seriously shaken. In the absence of a body, the jury were not going to want to convict and the slightest breach of the prosecution’s case might swing them over; whilst, by the same reasoning, lack of effectiveness of cross-examination would not hinder the defence.

  Alan Marsh, too smart, too sleek, took the oath. He testified that he and his wife had driven to Charing Cross station to meet the train on which they had been told by Mrs. Leithan she would arrive, and that she had not been on it. He had telephoned the prisoner to try to find out what had happened and although Leithan had at first seemed worried, later it became clear that he was not concerned by his wife’s non-appearance and had even angrily refused any suggestion that they should try to find out if anything were wrong. He, Marsh, and his wife had continued to expect Mrs. Leithan to arrive, but they had never seen her again. She had even not attended the A.G.M., though it was certain she would have attended it if humanly possible. He had not heard a word from her from that day to this.