Dickie (Feeney Family Sagas Book 4)

by Sheelagh Kelly

  He cleared his throat, though his speech still emerged rather croakily. Up in the gallery, Belle wanted to cough for him. ‘From the deceased’s position between layers of burnt rubble, it appeared that they had been in an upstairs room but when the explosion occurred the floor of that room had collapsed, taking the bodies with it. Cause of death was shock due to burns. The bodies had been partially dismembered by the explosion and were very badly charred. From the material which remained, I had great difficulty in even determining the gender of the deceased, but I did finally ascertain that one of them was a man, the other a woman.’ He gave sickening details of the latter corpse, before going on to that of the man.

  ‘… Again, using his teeth as indication, I would put his age at a little older than the woman, certainly not less than twenty-one. The face had been burnt away and the skull had burst open with the intensity of the heat …’

  Thomasin recoiled and glanced at her son for reassurance that he hadn’t been the victim.

  ‘… skin destroyed on chest, abdomen and upper limbs…’ In the gallery Josie wafted herself furiously with a fan and muttered, ‘Oh, that poor man.’

  ‘… internal organs of abdomen exposed and burnt … left foot and lower leg dismembered … as in the case of the female his height was impossible to determine exactly, due to the natural rigor of the limbs and the distortion caused by the intense heat, but I would estimate it at over six feet, a very tall man …’

  These and the following details were absorbed by Lindley, who at the end of the doctor’s testimony, said ponderously, ‘So, it was quite impossible to say that the corpse which you examined was not that of Richard Feeney?’

  ‘Impossible to say it was, impossible to say it wasn’t. I can only present you with my findings.’

  ‘But he was a very tall man, you say, around twenty-one years of age – in fact of similar stature to Richard Feeney at that time.’ Lindley thanked him and sat down.

  There were no questions from Haig – further annoying Dickie – and few from the Fox, save to establish if there were any signs of injury to the deceased other than those caused by the fire. With Doctor Sayner’s negative reply, he was given permission to stand down. Next on the stand was a former employee of the Feeneys and the witness they were dreading most. Amy Forsdyke was sworn and gave her occupation as shopkeeper. A quarter of a century on, Amy looked like a grandmother and was more richly-attired than when Dickie had known her. This raised an inner smile – he wondered how much she had managed to loot from his house before she had been given notice by Sonny.

  After Amy had identified Richard Feeney as the man for whom she had been housemaid, Lindley asked, ‘When was this?’

  ‘In eighteen seventy-four, just for a few weeks. But I must stress that it was after he got rid of the brothel. I wouldn’t like anyone to think I was frequenting such a …’

  ‘Objection!’

  Amy didn’t give the Judge a chance to speak. ‘It’s right, Your Honour! It was in the paper he was found guilty, he had to sell up and find a new place, that’s when I asked for a job as a maid.’ Though censured for this unsolicited stream of information, she could not resist a triumphant smirk at her old adversary, Thomasin.

  Haig begged for this to be stricken from the record, saying that it had no relevance, but the Prosecution said that it might prove helpful in showing why Feeney chose to disappear and so the accusation stuck. In fact, the Defence had been expecting this. Sutcliffe had agreed with Dickie that it was better to have the jury think this was why Feeney had absconded, rather than come to hear of his real crimes.

  ‘Now tell us, Miss Forsdyke, when did you last see your employer?’

  ‘Two days before his mother’s house burnt down – I remember so well ’cause that was when the detective came looking for him.’ She was asked if she knew what the detective wanted of Feeney but said that she didn’t. ‘It must’ve been summat serious though ’cause …’

  ‘Objection!’

  ‘Sustained.’ The Judge asked the Jury to disregard this and for Amy to confine herself to the facts. At the back of the gallery Nettleton slid lower down in his seat, hoping this line of questioning would not persist. He wanted this one for himself. Attempts had in fact been made by the Prosecution to trace him, but there was nothing in police files to suggest the detective had been from the York force.

  ‘Well, anyway,’ went on Amy, ‘when he heard the detective was waiting for him he paid me and the other girl off, dashed upstairs, packed a bag and climbed out the window. And that’s the last I saw of him, Your Honour.’ She was told to refer to the Judge as My Lord. ‘Sorry, My Lord.’

  Lindley proceeded. ‘Did you know that he was supposed to have died in the fire?’ Amy said she had read it in the paper. ‘Were you then surprised to be told that he was still alive?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t. He was always in trouble, that one.’ Lindley sat down, and for the time being Fox left cross-examination to Haig. ‘Miss Forsdyke – I am correct, am I not, it is Miss and not Mrs? Was Richard Feeney the only member of that family for whom you worked?’

  ‘No, I once worked for his mother – but that was quite a few years previous to my employment with him.’ Haig asked how many years and Amy said about four. She was asked why she had left Thomasin Feeney’s employment. ‘I didn’t like it.’

  ‘Is it not true that you were dismissed for stealing?’

  Amy compressed her lips. ‘I was accused, wrongly might I say, of taking a brooch, but it was Richard who stole it off his grandmother and gave it to me as a present.’

  The schoolboy face assumed a look of reproval. ‘You accepted it knowing it was stolen?’

  ‘No! I wouldn’t’ve worn it, would I, if I’d known. But when his grandmother saw it she accused me and he let me take the blame.’

  Haig looked puzzled. ‘Was it then not a strange move to later seek employment with a man who had blackened your character?’

  ‘It wasn’t a case of choice but of necessity. His mother dismissed me without reference. I had to scratch a living where I could. I was almost destitute when I read about Richard Feeney in the paper and decided to go and ask him for a job.’

  More incredulity from Haig. ‘Believing that he had been prosecuted for having a house of ill-repute?’

  ‘I told you! He’d sold that when I went to work for him. I was a respectable girl who needed a job and I felt he owed it to me.’

  ‘Before this you had been without work for almost four years?’ His question received a yes. ‘How did you feed yourself?’

  ‘Oh … well, I did odd jobs and suchlike.’

  ‘Can you be more specific?’

  ‘It’s difficult to say …’ Amy scratched her head.

  ‘Take your time, Miss Forsdyke,’ said Haig kindly. ‘I do understand how daunting it can be when one has not appeared in Court before. We do not want to confuse the facts by rushing you. I am right in saying you haven’t appeared in Court, am I not?’

  Amy looked uneasy. ‘Not this kind.’

  ‘Which Court then?’

  Amy looked up at the elaborate plaster frieze and paused for a time before mumbling. ‘The Police Court.’

  ‘As a witness?’

  Amy shook her head and looked increasingly uncomfortable. She was asked to answer verbally. ‘I was charged.’

  ‘What was the nature of that charge?’

  Amy clammed her lips together.

  The schoolboy had suddenly taken on the role of master. ‘Miss Forsdyke, I put it to you that during the four year interval between working for Thomasin and Richard Feeney, you were a common prostitute.’

  Amy swung on the Judge. ‘He can’t say that!’

  ‘Furthermore, the real reason you were dismissed from Thomasin Feeney’s employ was not simply because of the brooch, but for the theft of several items of linen and food, and also that Mrs Feeney was concerned about the bad influence you were having on her son.’

  ‘That’s a lie!’

&nb
sp; Leaving no pause, Haig raced on. ‘And that the only reason you are here now is to besmirch the man who took pity on you and gave you employment and a home, because you blamed him for your dismissal several years previously, a dismissal brought about by your own greed and no one else’s!’

  There was a vociferous objection, but the point had been made. By the time the Court adjourned for luncheon Thomasin felt a little more confident.

  * * *

  This feeling peaked and troughed throughout the afternoon, as the remainder of the Prosecution’s case was put. It was not until late afternoon that the Defence lawyers made their opening speeches, giving the Court the first opportunity to see Fox’s style which up to this point had seemed very undistinguished. Watching him step forward to address the Court, Thomasin felt little conviction. His gown hung on shoulders that seemed bowed by apathy, his dark eyes were vapid. But when he began to present his case, his demeanour suddenly came to life, the Jury appeared to hang on his every word as he told them what folly it was that this case had ever been brought before them.

  After he had finished his speech, the Judge decreed that they were not going to complete the hearing today and said that the Court would reconvene at eleven o’clock the next morning.

  On Wednesday morning, Sonny was the first of the defendants to step into the witness box. Hauling nervously at his cuffs, he took the oath.

  ‘My Lord, Members of the Jury,’ said Fox after Sonny had stated his occupation as mill owner and artist, ‘you will no doubt be aware that Mr Feeney is an artist of international repute.’ Lord Alverstone nodded in recognition – he had one of Sonny’s paintings on his wall. ‘Mr Feeney,’ continued Fox, ‘I want you to tell the Court what happened on that fateful day in November eighteen seventy-four.’

  Sonny cleared his throat. ‘Following my normal programme, I’d worked at my mother’s store in the morning and spent the afternoon in my studio painting. Usually I would be there until dinner, but on that particular day I wasn’t having much success so I packed up in the late afternoon and visited a public house where I met my brother. We took a glass of ale together and then he accompanied me to the family home in Monkgate. When we arrived, some time between five-thirty and six o’clock, the house was already well alight. My parents and my grandmother were standing outside on the footpath along with my sister, her husband and many of our neighbours. My father was attempting to enter the house but all the doors and windows were secured. He told us that my wife and children were inside and I began my own attempt to break the lock on the front door, aided by my brother ’

  Fox broke in. ‘Did no member of the family possess a key?’

  ‘It wasn’t normal practice for any of us to take a key when we went out as the maids would always be there.’

  Fox drew the Court’s attention to the investigators’ notes which said that when they sifted through the debris they found that the locks did not have keys on the interior, but four keys were found together on a ledge, and because, to his client’s knowledge, there were only four in existence, this would indicate that the doors had been locked from the inside. ‘Please go on, Mr Feeney.’

  ‘Eventually we succeeded in breaking the lock. Richard, my brother, prevented me from going in and said he would go.’

  ‘Did he give any particular reason for this?’

  ‘I suppose he thought…’

  ‘Objection, My Lord!’

  The Judge instructed Sonny to ignore supposition. ‘I’m sorry. I think he said that there was no point in us both taking the risk, but I can’t be sure of his exact wording … He disappeared for a short time. The draught from the front door made the fire spread. I feared he’d be trapped inside and wanted to go in after him but my father held me back. Richard managed to find the children and transported them to safety. All of them were badly affected by the smoke. My brother told me that while he was rescuing them he had seen my wife upstairs, unconscious. I tried to push past him and go into the house, but before I could stop him he had dashed back inside.’ Sonny hung his head. ‘There was an explosion. I never saw my brother alive again, until he turned up last December.’

  ‘How many entrances were there other than the front door?’

  ‘There was a side entrance that led to the kitchen, but this was locked too, and because of its position it would have been difficult to get a run at. There were also french doors in the drawing room which led into the garden but these could only have been reached by climbing over a high wall and this would have wasted time, that’s why we chose to break in the front way.’

  ‘If someone had escaped through either of these exits would it have been possible for you to have seen them from where you were standing?’

  ‘No.’

  There followed a short period of questioning related to the identification of the two bodies, then Fox asked, ‘When your brother came out of the house with the children and told you that he had seen your wife unconscious, did he say that he had seen anyone else in the house?’ Sonny replied negatively. ‘And had you any reason to think that there might be?’

  ‘Not at that time, no. Apart from her, all the family were outside with me.’

  ‘When the maids returned, what explanation did they give for their absence?’

  ‘They told us my wife had given them the afternoon off.’

  ‘And did you not think this was strange?’

  ‘No, I was too upset.’

  ‘Mr Feeney, had you anything to gain by disguising the fact that your brother was not dead?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Did you sincerely believe that the watch you identified did in fact belong to him?’

  ‘I did.’

  Fox handed over to Haig. From then it was given to the Prosecution.

  Lindley scratched his distorted nose and stood. ‘Mr Feeney, before the day of the fire, when was the last time you saw your brother?’ After a slight hesitation, Sonny replied that it had been several months. Asked the reason for this, he added that his brother lived in a different house. ‘But surely brothers visit one another, do they not?’ said Lindley in his silken tone.

  ‘I… my brother was out of favour with the family.’

  ‘Because of his Court appearance over the brothel?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was this the only reason?’

  Fox objected on the grounds that this was irrelevant to the case, but was overruled.

  Sonny chose the lesser of many evils. ‘No. My brother also bought a property that my mother had wanted badly. She told him she never wanted to see him again.’

  ‘And during this animosity between mother and son what position did you take?’

  After a pause, Sonny replied, ‘I didn’t go to see him because that would have upset my parents.’

  ‘Yet you did go to see him on the day of the fire?’

  ‘Yes. I thought it was about time he made it up with our parents.’

  Lindley asked several more questions pertaining to the rift. The air in Court was by now stifling, the fans moved ever more feverishly and the Judge was baking under his wig. ‘Mr Lindley,’ he sighed. ‘This questioning does not seem to be leading us anywhere. Could you try not to ramble.’

  ‘I beg Your Lordship’s pardon. I was not aware that I was rambling.’ Prosecution began a different line of questioning. ‘Mr Feeney, I have here a copy of the Last Will and Testament of your brother …’

  Oh Christ! Sonny fought to retain his calm exterior, whilst his mind imploded. He dared not look at Dick, but felt his eyes – felt all eyes – boring into him.

  ‘I see that you were the main beneficiary.’

  ‘That’s correct.’ He’s going to say it, panicked Sonny. Any minute now he’s going to mention the date on that will. One of them has to have spotted it.

  The barrister nodded and put the will down. Sonny felt no relief, deciding it was just stratagem. Any minute now he’s going to seize it and reveal all our lies. He tried to keep his eyes from straying to the docu
ment, as did others: Sutcliffe felt the sweat trickle down the side of his nose but dared not wipe it off for fear of attracting guilt. Behind him, Dickie twisted his thumbs. Thomasin felt that she was going to pass out. The feathers on her hat were wilting in the intense heat.

  ‘Now,’ said Lindley, ‘as the Court can see, your brother is very much alive. You say you made this discovery last year?’ Sonny affirmed. ‘Did you then ask yourself the true identity of the man who died in that fire?’

  ‘I have wondered once or twice, yes.’

  ‘You wondered once or twice?’ The Prosecution’s face showed mild surprise. ‘Mr Feeney, I should have thought that this would be of pressing interest to you and indeed to all the members of your family. Did you make no effort at all to find out the identity of the deceased?’

  ‘I’m ashamed to say we were far too grateful that it wasn’t my brother.’

  ‘Or was it that you did not need to make investigations because you already knew his identity?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’

  ‘My Lord,’ Fox began to rise.

  He was silenced by his opponent. ‘My Lord, I think my line of questioning is quite clear!’

  ‘Yes, Mr Fox.’ Lord Alverstone came down on behalf of the Prosecution. ‘There was a man burned to death in that house. If it was not Richard Feeney, it is the duty of this Court to try to establish who it was. Pray continue, Mr Lindley.’

  ‘Since you learned that your brother did not die in that fire, you have had many months in which to ponder who it might have been. Have you come to any conclusion?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I have no idea of who it might have been.’

  Oh, Son, his brother groaned inwardly, why d’ye always have to look so guilty?

  ‘Then if you are certain you did not know him you must be aware that he was not, at least, a friend of the family?’

  Fox attempted to give his client some leeway in which to compose himself, his mouth awry. ‘My learned friend might care to unravel that conundrum.’ There was a soft ripple of laughter.