by John Rhode
‘Did anyone see him there?’ Hanslet asked.
‘Not to my knowledge. It was partly in the hope of getting some confirmation of Dr Thornborough’s statement that I went to see Willingdon in the cottage on the other side of the road. But he says that he was in the lounge at the time, the windows of which look out in the opposite direction. Then, again, Dr Thornborough says that he saw the half-witted fellow, Alfie Prince, crossing the road in front of him. In view of the fact that it seems hardly possible that Alfie could have been in that particular place at the time, I haven’t thought it worth while to question him on the point. Alfie’s statements are so incoherent they can hardly be relied upon.’
‘I am somewhat puzzled by your attitude, inspector,’ Dr Priestley intervened. ‘I quite appreciate that it is expedient to leave Dr Thornborough at liberty until you have definite proof of his guilt. But what reason have you for cherishing a belief in his innocence?’
‘No valid reason at all, sir, I’m afraid,’ Jimmy replied. ‘Simply my own personal intuition. I have talked to Dr Thornborough, and I don’t believe he is the type of man to commit a murder, especially in his own interests.’
Hanslet shrugged his shoulders. ‘You won’t talk like that when you’ve been in the force for a few years longer,’ he said. ‘How often is it the apparently unexpected people who commit the most sensational crimes? As I understand it, you don’t go so far to argue that Dr Thornborough can’t have done it.’
‘Far from it. I’ve formed a theory which explains up to a point how he could have set about it. But that theory fails just at the critical moment.’
‘I should be interested to hear it, nevertheless,’ said Dr Priestley quietly.
Jimmy hesitated. To form a theory which hardly satisfied himself was one thing. To expound it to Dr Priestley was quite another. ‘I’m afraid you won’t think very much of it, sir,’ he replied apologetically. ‘It presupposes that Dr Thornborough had made his plans in advance.
‘His first move was to bend over the basin in the cloakroom and, looking through the aperture in the window, to study the brick wall opposite. This brick wall is the boundary of his property, and separates the carriage-way into the garage from the building land beyond. He noticed that the horizontal line between his head and the window would, if extended, strike a header in the brick wall opposite.
‘His next step was to loosen the mortar surrounding this header. He worked from the further side of the wall so that his operations would not be visible from the house. He dug away the mortar with some sharp tool until the brick was loose and could be removed.
‘It was necessary to his purpose that no sign should be visible that the brick had been tampered with. If he had merely replaced the brick at this stage it would have rested on the course beneath, leaving a gap on the top of it and at both sides. This fact might have been noticed by anyone using the cloakroom or the carriage-way. So he wrapped the brick round with sheets of paper until it exactly fitted the aperture. Then, as a further precaution against any irregularity being noticed, he coated the ends of the paper with plasticine coloured to resemble mortar. The brick could then be withdrawn at any time, and when it was replaced no visible sign of its removal would remain. This process was, in fact, actually carried out by someone, whether the doctor or not. I have withdrawn the brick myself and looked through the aperture thus caused in the wall. The head of anyone bending over the basin in the cloakroom would be clearly visible to an observer on the other side of the wall.
‘To continue my theory. The doctor’s next step was to secure the presence of his victim. There was very little difficulty about that. He knew Mr Fransham’s affection for his niece and that if he were invited to Epidaurus he would almost certainly come. Hence the letter signed “Cyril.” It was a practical certainty that very shortly after Mr Fransham’s arrival, he would go into the cloakroom to wash his hands before lunch.
‘Dr Thornborough, after his visit to Mark Farm, drove to the five-barred gate at the end of Gunthorpe Road. From here he could see any car which turned into his own drive gates. He waited until he saw Mr Fransham’s car do so, then entered the grass field through a gap in the hedge. He walked along inside the hedge until he reached the loose brick in the wall. He withdrew this and watched until he saw Mr Fransham’s head through the window of the cloakroom. And, at that critical moment, my theory breaks down.’
‘Breaks down!’ Hanslet exclaimed. ‘Why? It sounds pretty convincing up to now. What do you say, professor?’
‘I prefer to reserve my opinion until the inspector has explained himself further,’ Dr Priestley replied.
‘Well, sir, the difficulty is this,’ said Jimmy diffidently. ‘Dr Thornborough, from behind the wall, had an excellent view of the top of his victim’s head. He must have been looking at the very part of it where the wound was subsequently found. But how did he cause that wound? There are only two possible alternatives. Either he projected with considerable force some missile of cubical shape, or he employed a weapon with a cubical end.
‘Now, the horizontal distance from the centre of the basin to the bars protecting the window is thirty inches. The width of the carriage-way is exactly twelve feet, and the wall is nine inches thick. The minimum distance between Dr Thornborough and his victim’s head was therefore fifteen feet three inches. It seems to me inconceivable that he should have wielded a weapon of anything like that length with accuracy. If it possessed the necessary rigidity, it would be very heavy and unwieldy. It would have been impossible to swing it, and it would have been necessary to thrust it forward like a spear. And it must not be forgotten that Coates was standing in the doorway of the garage not many yards away. Surely the thrust of a weapon across the carriage-way could not have escaped his attention?’
‘From your description, inspector, it sounds extremely improbable that a weapon could have been employed,’ Dr Priestley remarked.
‘But the other alternative seems to be equally improbable, sir. It involves the use of a missile in the shape of a cube with a side of one and a half inches, sufficiently hard and solid to inflict the wound. I imagine something in the nature of a piece cut off the end of a square bar of iron. And I’ve been trying to think what would happen to such a missile after it had hit its mark. It seems to me that it must have done one of three things, which I will mention in the order of their possibility. It might have fallen into the basin. It might have glanced off and fallen in some other part of the cloakroom. Finally, though this seems to me very unlikely indeed, it might have rebounded through the window and fallen into the carriage-way.’
Dr Priestley nodded approvingly. ‘Your reasoning appears perfectly sound, inspector,’ he said.
‘Then how is it that the missile has not been found, sir? I am quite satisfied with Linton’s statement that Dr Thornborough had no opportunity of picking it up. The cloakroom affords no possible place of concealment, and four people, Linton, Sergeant Cload, Superintendent Yateley and myself have examined it minutely. It is absolutely certain that the missile was not in the cloakroom at the time the crime was discovered. That was only a few minutes after Mr Fransham’s death. And Linton assures me that nobody could have entered the cloakroom in the interval without his knowledge.’
‘I gather that Linton has only the evidence of his ears for that,’ Hanslet remarked. ‘He couldn’t see the cloakroom door from where he was in the consulting-room, could he?’
‘No, but the cloakroom door was locked on the inside and had to be broken open. That fact seems to support Linton’s statement. There remains only the extremely unlikely event of the missile having bounded back into the carriage-way. Even if this had happened, it should still have been found. Neither Dr Thornborough or any other member of the household had any opportunity of picking it up before Superintendent Yateley examined the carriage-way himself.
‘That’s where my theory fails. The fact that no missile has been found rules out the possibility that one has been used. We are therefore, driven b
ack to the theory of a weapon. The turn-cock that I spoke about just now fills the bill exactly. It is quite true that there are no fingermarks upon it, but that doesn’t mean very much. Dr Thornborough had plenty of opportunity for cleaning it on Saturday afternoon, before I came upon it in the garage. But, if it is actually the weapon, it must have been wielded from just outside the cloakroom window. It isn’t nearly long enough to have been thrust across the carriage-way from the other side of the wall. And it couldn’t have been thrown through the aperture, for the T-shaped handle is far too wide to allow it to pass.’
‘All the same, I believe you’re on the right track with that turn-key, Jimmy,’ said Hanslet. ‘You tell us that the doctor drove down the carriage-way while Mr Fransham was in the cloakroom? Why shouldn’t he have had the key in the car with him and jabbed it through the cloakroom window as he passed?’
‘I’ve thought of that possibility,’ Jimmy replied. ‘But I can’t get away from Linton’s picture of Coates standing in the doorway of the garage.’
‘I’d try to find out a little more about this man Coates, if I were you,’ said Hanslet. ‘Perhaps he knows more about this business than he thought fit to tell you. I don’t suppose for a moment that he was an accessory before the fact. It isn’t a bit likely that the doctor would have taken him into his confidence. But if Coates did see anything, and if he has the mentality of a crook, it seems to me that he’s on velvet. For one thing he gets his legacy and for another he’s in a unique position for blackmail. From what I can make out the doctor will have plenty of money to spare now.’
‘I’m going to make inquiries about Coates,’ Jimmy replied, ‘but he isn’t the only puzzle. If the blow was to be struck from just outside the cloakroom window, why was all that trouble taken to remove the brick and to disguise its removal?’
‘Oh, I think that’s easily explained. Criminals often try several plans before they hit upon the right one. The doctor may have originally intended to shoot Mr Fransham from the other side of the wall. That’s why he removed the brick. Then I suppose that it occurred to him that the sound of the shot would certainly be heard and might give him away. So he hit upon the plan of wielding the turn-cock from the car. Naturally he’d leave the brick as it was. If and when you found it, it would put other ideas into your head. And that, of course, would be all to his benefit. It’s no good, Jimmy, the more you tell us, the more firmly you fix the rope round the doctor’s neck.’
‘And yet I don’t know,’ Jimmy replied. ‘It seems to me that that letter is the whole crux of the matter. Did the doctor write it or did he not? If he did, it seems to me pretty clear proof of his guilt. It’s typed on the doctor’s notepaper, there’s no question about that. But it would be easy enough for anyone to secure a sheet of that paper. I have noticed for myself that visitors to the doctor’s house, apart from social visitors, of course, are shown into the consulting-room. On the doctor’s desk in this room is a stationery rack with several sheets of his notepaper in it. And you must remember that anybody who calls upon a doctor in the guise of a patient will be admitted.’
Hanslet nodded. ‘I admit that piece of notepaper isn’t much to go upon,’ he said. ‘But the wording of the letter seems to me to suggest pretty strongly that the doctor wrote it.’
‘If he did, why does he deny the fact?’ Jimmy replied. ‘It would have been far less suspicious if he had admitted openly that he had wanted to see Mr Fransham on some matter connected with his private affairs, shall we say?’
‘Because, I suppose, the situation was complicated by his mother-in-law’s presence in the house. Why did the doctor time the murder while she was there? She was only on a short visit, and if he had waited for a few days he could have asked Mr Fransham down without any secrecy whatever. Or is it that, like most criminals, he overlooked certain details? It was careless of him to wrap up that brick in sheets of a paper which could so easily be traced to him.’
‘It was, if he actually did so,’ Jimmy replied. ‘But there, again, you’ve got to remember the accessibility of the consulting-room. The current number of the British Medical Journal was, I gather, usually to be found lying on the table there. The very fact that the doctor’s issue of May 22 is missing, seems to be a point in his favour. The fact that the brick in the wall had been tampered with was bound to be discovered sooner or later. Whoever wrapped the paper round the brick must have known that. And if the doctor had done so, I feel sure that he is astute enough to have provided himself with a duplicate copy of the British Medical Journal to be produced when questions were asked.’
‘That’s all very fine, Jimmy,’ said Hanslet. ‘I’m quite sure that the professor will agree that it’s your business to consider all the possibilities. But we come back to the problem which appears to confront your local superintendent. If the doctor didn’t do the job, who did? I’m not going into the question of motive, for you may yet find that there were other people who wanted Mr Fransham’s death. But who else had the doctor’s opportunities for killing him by that particular method?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jimmy replied. ‘If I could think of any way that Mr Fransham could have been killed from the other side of the wall, I’d be inclined to think that the half-witted Alfie Prince might have had some hand in the affair.’
‘That is a curious suggestion, inspector,’ Dr Priestley remarked. ‘Do you mean to imply that this man Prince’s mental derangement might have produced homicidal tendencies?’
‘Not in the sense that he would commit a murder on his own initiative, sir. From what I’ve seen of Alfie he doesn’t strike me as being a lunatic, in any sense of the word. He has periods when his brain is clouded, and then he does things which he would not think of doing in his normal state. Isn’t it possible that at these times he might be impelled to crime by the suggestion of a stronger will?’
‘I am not an alienist,’ said Dr Priestley, ‘but I imagine that such a thing might under certain circumstances be possible.’
‘It sounds a bit far-fetched to me,’ Hanslet remarked. ‘But go ahead Jimmy, there’s nothing like exploring every avenue, as the politicians say.’
‘I’ve been wondering tentatively whether Alfie can have been inspired by Dr Thornborough to commit the crime,’ Jimmy replied.
Hanslet laughed derisively. ‘Never!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’ve got to give the doctor credit for some intelligence, at least. Do you suppose he’d put his neck at the mercy of a man like this Alfie Prince of yours? Why, the moment Alfie felt he was suspected, he’d give the doctor away at once.’
‘One of the curious features of Alfie’s erratic periods is that they make no impression on his memory,’ Jimmy replied. ‘I am assured that when he becomes normal again, he has completely forgotten everything that happened while his brain was clouded. By his own admission, Dr Thornborough was aware of some of Alfie’s peculiarities. It seems to me that he may have been well aware of this particular one.’
Hanslet whistled softly. ‘By jove, that’s a marvellous idea!’ he exclaimed. ‘The doctor gets hold of Alfie in one of his moods and puts him up to murder Mr Fransham. Alfie does the job and promptly forgets all about it. The doctor is perfectly safe, for no proof exists of his incitement. And when the painstaking Inspector James Waghorn at last completes his case against Alfie, that unfortunate individual is found guilty and committed to Broadmoor during His Majesty’s pleasure. But can you work it out?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Jimmy replied doubtfully. ‘Alfie’s movements during Friday evening and Saturday are wrapped in mystery. His story of the man who accosted him at Weaver’s Bridge and offered him half a crown and a handful of cigarettes for his old coat sounds fantastic. And yet there are two things which in a way support it. Alfie’s reason for stealing a new coat was that he had parted with his old one. And then those cigarette ends that I found in the corner of the field. Where did Alfie get hold of that particular brand?’
‘I understand that the principal symptom of Alfie’s complaint is
that he cadges cigarettes from everybody when he’s suffering from it.’
‘So it is, apparently. But very few people, comparatively speaking, smoke Black’s Russian Blend. You can’t go into the ordinary tobacconist’s shop and buy them. And it seems to me rather remarkable that I found a box of them in the doctor’s house. It suggests to me the possibility that Alfie’s fantastic story is true and that the man who accosted him was the doctor.’
‘But what on earth did the doctor want with Alfie’s old coat?’ Hanslet demanded.
‘Quite frankly, I don’t know. Nor do I know if it was in the course of that interview that the doctor inspired Alfie with the idea of murder. But I think there’s very little doubt that Alfie spent Friday night in the corner of the field.
‘Alfie’s next appearance is at Colonel Exbury’s house about a quarter to one on Saturday without his old coat, which is so well-known locally that it could not possibly be mistaken. I think we can accept that as a fact, for there is no reason whatever to doubt Colonel Exbury’s statement. Now this appearance would, on the face of it, appear to provide Alfie with an unshakable alibi. Mr Fransham was killed at seven minutes past one and Alfie could not have covered the distance between the two points in the time. Unless, of course, he had a car at his disposal. But perhaps he had. Perhaps the doctor gave him a lift from somewhere outside Colonel Exbury’s house to Gunthorpe Road. The doctor would still have had time to make his call at Mark Farm.’
Jimmy addressed Dr Priestley. ‘I’m afraid you’ll accuse me of indulging too lavishly in conjecture, sir,’ he said.
‘Not at all,’ Dr Priestley replied. ‘You are, I understand, merely trying to formulate a theory in accordance with the facts. In such a case conjecture is admissible as long as it is verified before the theory is accepted.’
‘Thank you, sir. I won’t try to guess the doctor’s motives in taking Alfie’s coat on Friday night. But if he actually did so, this I imagine is what he did with it. He put it in the corner of the field on Saturday morning after Alfie had gone. Alfie on his return there after his visit to Colonel Exbury, found the coat and put it on.