by John Rhode
‘I’ve seen to the usual formalities, of course. I have been in touch with the coroner and he has ordered an inquest at half-past eleven on Monday. And I’ve arranged for the body to be taken to the mortuary this evening. Now, is there anything else you want to know?’
‘How long has Dr Thornborough been in practice in Adderminster?’
‘Seven years. Dr Dorrington took him into partnership then. They’ve got a surgery between them in the town here, and for five years Dr and Mrs Thornborough lived in the house next door. Then a couple of years ago, he built that new house of his in Gunthorpe Road. Why he gave it a ridiculous name like Epidaurus I can’t tell you. Anything else?’
‘Not at present, thank you, sir,’ Jimmy replied. ‘Have you any objection to my visiting the scene of the crime?’
‘Not the slightest. You can’t miss the house. Turn to the right at the bottom of High Street and keep straight on till you come to it. You can’t make any mistake, for you’ll find the name painted on the gate. You’ll find Sergeant Cload on duty up there. He’ll be able to tell you anything else you want to know.’
Jimmy left the police station and walked down the busy little High Street, noticing, as he did so, the brass plate on the surgery door bearing the names of Drs Dorrington and Thornborough. Following the superintendent’s instructions, he turned to the right and found himself in Middle Street, a narrow thoroughfare bordered with shops on both sides. After half a mile or so the pavements came to an end, at which point Middle Street became Gunthorpe Road.
A couple of hundred yards farther on, Jimmy came to an imposing gateway on his right. A notice board affixed to this informed him that it was the entrance to the Gunthorpe public gardens and the Adderminster and District Museum. On the opposite side of the road was a single building, a small house or cottage, apparently of considerable age, and surrounded by a succession of orchards and meadow-lands. Another couple of hundred yards beyond the gateway and on the same side of the road was the first drive gate of Epidaurus.
Jimmy did not turn in here, but walked on until he reached the second drive gate, from which he could see straight down the carriage-way to the garage at its farther end. Jimmy, wishing to acquaint himself fully with the local topography, did not stop here. As he proceeded he found a high but ragged hedge on his right, above which towered an enormous board bearing the words, ‘Building plots for sale.’ Finally, about a quarter of a mile beyond Epidaurus, Gunthorpe Road ended abruptly at a five-barred gate, beyond which a track led to a farmhouse in the distance.
As he turned back Jimmy wondered what sort of a man this Dr Thornborough would turn out to be. One thing was already certain, that he possessed a sense of humour. Epidaurus, the shrine of Aesculapius! What more suitable name could have been chosen for a doctor’s house? Jimmy wondered how many people in Adderminster appreciated the allusion. Certainly the superintendent didn’t. But then the superintendent’s mind was concerned more with material facts than with classical allusions.
This time Jimmy turned in at the gate and walked down the carriage-way. When he reached the cloakroom window he became aware of a rubicund face surveying him through the opening.
‘Good-afternoon, Sergeant Cload,’ he said quietly. ‘My name’s Waghorn, and I’ve been sent down from the Yard to see if I can give you a hand. I’m just going to have a look round, then I’ll come in and have a chat with you. You can let me in without disturbing the household, I dare say?’
‘Yes, sir, I can manage that,’ Cload replied. ‘You come to the window when you’re ready and I’ll open the garden door and let you in that way.’
Jimmy nodded, and went on towards the garage. The two cars were still standing at the end of the carriage-way—Dr Thornborough’s twelve horse-power Masspro outside the garage, and Mr Frasham’s big twenty-five horse-power Siddeley limousine inside. Of the doctor or Coates there was no sign.
Jimmy looked in at the open window of the doctor’s car and glanced swiftly round its interior. Except for a rug folded on the back seat it was empty.
At the end of the garage was a narrow bench upon which lay a few small tools. Nails driven into the wall supported a collection of miscellaneous objects. Three or four old tyres, a suit of overalls and a turn-cock.
Jimmy felt a thrill of excitement as he caught sight of this last object. He knew at once what it was. The key to the cock on the service-pipe by which the water supply to the house could be turned on or off. It was made of three-quarter inch iron rod with a T-shaped handle at one end. At the other end was a roughly cubical box, the hollow of which was designed to fit a square on the end of the cock spindle.
The key so exactly tallied with the superintendent’s description of the weapon which he had imagined, that Jimmy could hardly believe his eyes. He took out his foot-rule and measured the outside dimensions of the box. It was almost exactly an inch and a half either way. But even with a pocket lens he could find no trace of blood or hair upon it. However, that meant nothing, for there had been plenty of time and opportunity to clean it since the crime had been committed.
Jimmy carefully refrained from touching the turn-cock and after a careful inspection of the garage returned to the cloakroom window. A minute later Cload had opened the garden door for him, and the two entered the cloakroom together.
‘You’ve found nothing fresh, I suppose, sergeant?’ Jimmy asked.
‘No, sir, I haven’t,’ Cload replied. ‘I thought I might just as well have a good look round while I was here, but I haven’t found anything that could have made a wound like that poor gentleman’s got on his head.’
The body was still lying on the cloakroom floor and had by now been decently covered with a sheet. Jimmy drew this down and examined the wound. He could see for himself that it had been caused by the blunt edge of a cube with a side of about one and a half inches. Then he stood up and examined the position of the basin in respect to the barred window. He saw at once that no weapon of the size of the key could have been swung as a hammer is swung from outside the window. The opening was far too small for that. On the other hand, it could easily have been jabbed through the window, and the edge of the box would then have inflicted just such a wound as he had seen.
Staring out of the window Jimmy considered the implications of this theory. Whoever had wielded the weapon must have been standing close up to the protecting bars. But how could this be reconciled with Coates’ statement? The chauffeur had declared that if anyone had entered the carriage-way he could not have failed to have seen them. But could this statement be accepted? Jimmy already had experience of the fact that people were apt to declare impossible things which had actually happened. Not from any wish to mislead, but simply from natural conviction. Coates probably thought quite honestly that nobody could have reached the window unobserved by him. But his attention might well have been distracted for a few seconds. While he was lighting his cigarette, for instance. Or while he was looking round the car. He presumably went to the front of it, when the body would obscure his view of the carriage-way. On the whole Jimmy decided not to allow himself to be unduly influenced by Coates’ statement.
And then another idea struck him. It wasn’t necessary for the attacker to have been standing in the carriage-way. He might have been sitting in a car driven close up against the bars. He could quite easily have jabbed the turn-cock through the open windows of the car and the cloakroom. It was an established fact that Dr Thornborough had driven down the carriage-way. Had he paused for a moment outside the cloakroom window and delivered the blow?
There were obvious objections to this theory, but Jimmy thought that they might be overcome. Coates was the first of these. If the doctor’s car had stopped in its progress towards him he would surely have noticed it. Perhaps he had noticed and had his own reasons for saying nothing about it.
The second objection lay in the position of the wound. This showed, beyond question, that when Mr Fransham was struck, his head was bent over the basin. But surely if he had hea
rd a car stop outside the window he would have looked up. Expecting the doctor’s return, as he was, he would have at least have glanced at the car to see whether or not its occupant was his niece’s husband. It was almost unthinkable that he would have continued his ablutions without taking any notice. Unless he was deaf, or had got his eyes full of soap, or something like that.
As Jimmy stared out of the window his view was bounded by the brick wall opposite. It was a good substantial brick wall eight feet high and obviously of the same age as the house. ‘What’s on the other side of that wall, sergeant?’ he asked.
‘Several acres of grassland, sir,’ the sergeant replied. ‘It’s been up for sale in building plots ever since Squire Gunthorpe died three years back.’
‘Squire Gunthorpe? This road’s called after him, I suppose?’
‘That’s right, sir. It was like this, you see. You may have noticed the museum and public gardens as you came along here? That used to be called the Hall when the squire was alive. He’d lived there as long as anyone could remember. There wasn’t any Gunthorpe Road then. Those entrance gates you may have seen, used to stand across the end of Middle Street. What is now Gunthorpe Road was the private drive leading up to the Hall.
‘When the squire died, he left the house and gardens to the town and they’ve been turned into what you see them now. The entrance gates were moved, and the drive was turned into a public road. You may have noticed that cottage standing on the further side a little way up. That used to be the gardener’s cottage standing at the end of the park. It was only the house and garden that was left to the town. The squire left the park to his family and they sold it to a speculator for building. But the only house that’s been built on it so far is the one we’re in now.’
‘How’s that?’ Jimmy asked. ‘Is there no demand for houses in Adderminster?’
‘There’s a demand for houses of the right kind, sir. Plenty of folk want houses that they can get for fifteen shillings a week or so. But that kind of house can’t be built up here. I don’t rightly understand it, sir, but the council stepped in with some sort of town-planning scheme. They won’t allow more than one house in every two acres, and then they’ve got to be built of a certain size. That sort of thing comes a bit too expensive for most folks.’
‘I see. Who lives in the old gardener’s cottage? It appeared to be occupied when I saw it just now.’
‘It was bought by a lady and gentleman from London. They pretty well pulled the inside to pieces and rebuilt it to suit themselves. But they aren’t very often there, for the gentleman has business abroad somewhere and usually takes his wife with him. They aren’t there now, I know for certain, but I did hear that it had been let furnished for the summer.’
‘Do you happen to know who it was let to?’
‘I can’t say that I do, sir. But I believe it’s a gentleman from London who comes down for the weekends. I don’t know that I’ve ever set eyes on him, sir.’
‘Is the vacant building land allowed to run to waste?’
‘No, sir. The farmer at the end of the road rents it for the hay. He should be cutting it any day now.’
Jimmy returned to his contemplation of the wall. Its presence definitely limited the area from which the murderer must have delivered his blow. The head of a normal man bending over the basin would be level with the opening in the window. This horizontal line, if produced, would meet the wall at a point about four feet above its base. Anything projected from or over the top of the wall through the opening would strike the ledge inside the window. It followed, therefore, that the blow, whether inflicted by a projectile or a weapon, must have been delivered from the carriage-way.
Missile or weapon, that was just the point. The theory of a missile involved obvious difficulties. It must have been hard and substantial to have inflicted such a wound. It could hardly have been thrown by hand with sufficient force and accuracy. Some means of projection would have been necessary. The shape and size of the missile precluded the idea of a pistol or gun. A catapult, perhaps. But what catapultist would choose a cubical missile in preference to a roughly spherical one?
Further, if a missile had been employed, what had become of it? After striking Mr Fransham’s head it would have lost its velocity and fallen. Directly beneath the point of impact was the basin, still half-full of soapy water and now quite cold. Jimmy fished through this with his fingers, only to find that the basin contained nothing but water.
Under the faintly amused eyes of Sergeant Cload, Jimmy proceeded to make a thorough search of the room. He did not desist until he had examined everything it contained, including the water-closet. No cubical object of any kind, or, for that matter, anything that could have been employed as a missile rewarded him.
There remained the possibility that the criminal had somehow retrieved the missile. But how? Constant observation had been kept on the cloakroom since Linton had broken down the door. From that moment the police had been either in the room or within sight of the door. It was practically impossible that anyone should have had an opportunity of removing anything.
Jimmy’s fertile mind reviewed other possibilities, only to reject them as impracticable. The criminal might have tied a string to the missile so as to recover it when it had done its work. Or he might have fished for it through the opening in the window with some instrument in the nature of a pair of lazy-tongs. But both these suppositions were ridiculous, for what would have remained an instant longer in the carriage-way, in full view of Coates in the garage only a few yards away, than he could help?
The missile was thus ruled out, leaving the weapon in the field. The turn-cock hanging in the garage fulfilled all the necessary conditions of such a weapon. The box at its end corresponded to the dimensions of the wound. It was so heavy and substantial that, thrust violently, it would inflict considerable damage. Finally, it was amply long enough to reach its objective if wielded by someone standing outside the window. It seemed to Jimmy that his first step must be to have the turn-cock expertly examined. He left the house, took it from its nail in the garage and returned to the police station. He explained his intentions to the superintendent, and caught the last train to London, carrying with him the turn-cock carefully wrapped up in several sheets of paper.
CHAPTER IV
During the journey Jimmy began to piece together the facts which he had learnt.
The first thing to be established was the time at which the crime had been committed. Linton’s presence in the consulting-room had been very helpful here. It was reasonable to suppose that the noise which he had heard and had supposed to have originated in the kitchen had been, in fact, the sound of Mr Fransham’s body falling in the cloakroom. He had looked at his watch immediately after this and had found the time to be seven minutes past one. Again, Linton’s observations had fixed the time of the doctor’s return at 1.12 p.m.
Next, disregarding for the moment the nature of the object with which the blow had been struck, the murderer must have stood in the carriage-way in order to commit his crime. This fact was established by the presence of the brick wall. Therefore, Coates’ statement that nobody could have entered the carriage-way without his knowledge must be set aside as unreliable.
This involved the consideration of a question which Jimmy had already asked himself. Could the chauffeur himself have been the criminal? The relations which had existed between him and his master had not yet been inquired into. It might be discovered that he had some grudge against Mr Fransham. On the other hand, there was Linton’s presence to be considered. He had been in the consulting-room, the window of which overlooked the garage. Could Coates have taken the turn-cock from its nail, struck his employer with it, returned to the garage and cleaned the key, all without Linton having observed him?
It seemed hardly likely, and yet the possibility remained. There was no reason to doubt Linton’s good faith; only the exact accuracy of his statement. Was he looking out of the consulting-room window all the time? His attention m
ust have been diverted at intervals. While he was listening to the sounds within the house, or drinking his beer, for instance? People were so apt to say, ‘I never took my eyes off so and so for an instant.’ Whereas, in fact, they had only looked at it at more or less frequent intervals.
Failing Coates, was it possible to assume the guilt of some unknown person, X? Coates’ statement must in any case be discounted. Someone must have entered the carriage-way and it might as well have been X as anybody else. But X must have entered by the drive gate and departed by the same route. Was it likely that he would have risked doing so in full view of the windows in front of the house? Dr Thornborough had stated that he had seen Alfie Prince crossing the road very shortly after the crime had been committed. Jimmy decided that one of his first moves on his return to Adderminster should be to interview Alfie.
Finally, there remained the doctor himself. Jimmy had not been altogether satisfied with the superintendent’s reasoning. It had seemed to him that Yateley’s conclusions had been based upon insufficient data and that he had closed his mind to any other possibility. But as a result of his own observations he was bound to admit that things looked pretty black against Dr Thornborough. The most plausible theory that Jimmy could evolve pointed to him as the culprit. He had taken the turn-cock with him in the car when he started on his rounds. On his return, he had stopped outside the cloakroom window and delivered the fatal blow. He had left the turn-cock in the car and in the course of the afternoon had seized an opportunity of cleaning it and putting it back in its place.
Jimmy was still pondering the fact when his train reached London. He took a taxi to Scotland Yard, where he handed over the turn-cock for expert examination. He had half-hoped to find Hanslet in his room, but by now it was nearly ten o’clock and the superintendent, not being on duty, had gone home. Jimmy went home to his quarters and after a restless night caught the first train to Adderminster on Sunday morning.