Foul Trade

by BK Duncan

  ‘Miss Liu. The court is indebted to you for coming here at such short notice. I’d like to remind you that you are here to report the witness’s words faithfully to us but that you are not under any personal scrutiny. Just relax and do your best. Now, if you could ask Mr Quong to begin, we will hear his evidence.’

  After she had done as instructed it was as if a dam had burst in the witness’s mouth. Streams of words gushed out, accompanied by looks darted in the direction of Brilliant Chang. Someone in the jury giggled. Braxton Clarke raised his hand.

  ‘Miss Liu. If you could request Mr Quong to bear with us and pause for a moment...’ He turned to the jury. ‘Each and every witness in this court will be respected, as will their testimony. I will have no hesitation in dismissing and imposing a heavy fine on anyone who disregards that.’

  May watched as the foreman tried to stare the coroner down but, in the end, was forced to cross his arms in defeat. She, too, hadn’t expected such a steely centre inside the expensive suit.

  ‘Now, Miss Liu, if we can start again please? A little slower this time. Don’t be afraid of asking Mr Quong to repeat something if necessary; I want my coroner’s officer to be able to transcribe every word.’

  May felt the tickle of a blush. She supposed that he did own her in a way: her fate was certainly in his hands. If she could impress him by making a really good job of this inquest then maybe he’d decide that Poplar Coroner’s Court couldn’t function without her. But the interpreter was speaking in her singsong voice and she had to concentrate.

  ‘He said that he saw that man there-’

  ‘Nan Chan?’

  ‘Yes, him, at the entrance to the alley where the boy was found.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘On that night, that very night. He swears to it.’

  ‘That’s okay, Miss Liu, he has already taken the oath. Please confine yourself to translating his exact words.’

  ‘I am very sorry, sir. He is so excited that he has got me that way, too. He is scared also, I think.’

  ‘Then tell him from me not to be. He has nothing to worry about.’

  She did so but May didn’t get the impression the Chinaman was convinced. He was staring at the courtroom door as if he wanted to get back onto the streets as quickly as possible. Or was expecting someone to come in.

  ‘Is he sure, beyond any possible doubt, that it was Nan Chan he saw?’

  The question was translated and the witness responded with another torrent. Miss Liu kept tapping his shoulder to encourage him to slow down. He finished. She asked something, got a response, then nodded.

  ‘He says it is well known in Limehouse that this man has rich white people in his restaurant who he tempts into the upstairs room to smoke the pipe. Then, when they leave with their wits still chasing the dragon, he has them beaten and robbed. He said he has seen it happen.’ Miss Liu raised her gaze from the floor and faced the coroner. ‘He wants you to know that may his eyes be pierced with a hot sail-maker’s bodkin if he hasn’t.’

  Brilliant Chang’s solicitor stood. The coroner waved him back down.

  ‘It will be your turn next. After I give time for the jury to ask any questions of this witness.’

  None were forthcoming.

  ‘Then I thank you very much for attending this afternoon. You, particularly, Miss Liu...’

  May noticed the young woman give him a shy little smile.

  ‘... You may return to your seats.’

  Sing Quong grabbed his interpreter’s arm and said something.

  ‘He asks that he may be excused.’ She seemed to shrink inside her clothes. ‘A call of nature.’

  Braxton Clarke sat back in his chair. ‘Of course, this is not a torture chamber. Please tell him that he is free to avail himself of the facilities, but not to leave the court.’

  The interpreter had barely finished relaying this when the witness leapt from the chair and scurried from the room. He slid Brilliant Chang a peculiarly violent hand gesture as he passed. May was surprised to notice the restaurateur’s composure crumple in the gap before he realised she was watching. Had that been guilt? She was sure Braxton Clarke would see beyond the smooth guile of his solicitor if it was. The latter now stood up.

  ‘My client has asked me to speak on his behalf for the remainder of these proceedings. Therefore I will issue a statement and answer any supplementary questions.’

  ‘Then please proceed; you have the court’s full attention.’

  ‘Mr Chan is not, and never has been, a drug dealer. The Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police can confirm that their investigations - instituted, I believe, at the behest of Colonel Tindal - have resulted in them not being able to find even the smallest trace of any illegal substances. Further, in response to the perjury from the last witness-’

  ‘Can I remind you, and the jury, that there is only one person here possessing the authority to decide what does, and does not, constitute contempt of this court? Please continue.’

  ‘My client was nowhere near Limehouse seven days ago. A well-known society luminary, whose name we will reveal if it becomes strictly necessary, can confirm that he was with her on the evening of 23rd March. When he returned to his premises it was to find the late coroner and this jury crowding his doorway. I’m sure the court clerk can testify to his shock at the time.’

  ‘Miss Keaps, when you are ready, if you will be good enough to go and fetch Mr Quong and bring him back inside. I’d like to hear if he has any amendments to make to his statement. In the meantime, I would be grateful if everyone could just wait patiently.’

  May didn’t think there was much chance of that. The pressmen present were already beginning to buzz at the revelation that Brilliant Chang had been out all night with a white woman. As she passed underneath the gallery she could hear excited speculation as to his mystery companion’s identity - someone’s wife perhaps?

  It only took her a few minutes to scout around the public areas and ascertain that the witness was no longer in the building. Would Braxton Clarke take the news the same way as Colonel Tindal would’ve done and unleash a tirade against unreliable and untrustworthy foreigners? She would feel unaccountably let down if he did.

  She walked back into the courtroom and approached the coroner’s bench. As she could have predicted, Brilliant Chang’s solicitor was on his feet before she’d finished explaining the situation.

  ‘Will you now accept the truth that my client had nothing to do with this?’

  Coroner Clarke made his hands into a steeple and rested his chin on his fingertips. ‘The witness’s failure to reappear simply tells me that he feared being cross-examined. Miss Liu, your services will no longer be required here today. If you present your account to my officer then she will ensure you are paid for your time and trouble. Miss Keaps, issue a warrant for the arrest of Sing Quong.’

  May began to feel queasy as she realised that the witness had sought PC Collier out and therefore there was no way of knowing if his address, or the laundry he’d said he worked in or even his name were genuine. But she wasn’t about to tell Braxton Clarke that and prompt him to ask how it was possible she had allowed the police to furnish an uncharacteristically eager-to-volunteer non-English-speaking witness without checking his identity.

  ‘Well, Miss Keaps, who will we hear from next? Someone I trust who will not attempt to bolt from this court before we have had a chance to glean all they have to say.’

  He was smiling. She breathed out again; he hadn’t picked up any of her tension.

  ‘Miss Fogle.’

  ‘Very good. Let’s have her up here then.’

  Rose Fogle, the first of Miles’ friends Mr Elliott had put forward, was well-groomed in a navy coatdress, the cloth primroses on her hat nodding as she walked confidently to the witness stand.

  ‘Pl
ease sit down, Miss Fogle, if it would make you more comfortable. Just make sure you look at me and speak loudly and clearly enough for the jury.’

  May didn’t think there was a chance of anyone’s gaze straying from the coroner. Even the most habitually inattentive jurors had their attention focused on him. The young woman gathered herself as if she was used to explaining herself in public.

  ‘We were companions, Miles and I - not in any romantic way you understand but we’d pair up for country house weekends and such.’ She dabbed delicately at the corner of her eyes with a lace handkerchief. ‘He was a fabulous dancer. We were going to Highclere together at the end of next month; it was to be a fancy-dress weekend, all very Egyptian and Valley of the Kings - my mother’s a distant cousin of the Earl of Carnarvon.’

  ‘Had you seen each other in the last four weeks, say from about the beginning of March?’

  ‘Not that I recall.’

  ‘Take your time, Miss Fogle; this is very important.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure of it. No. I had a cold and thought I’d keep my ugly red nose to myself. And I knew we had a date for April 23rd and that’s not too long to wait so I wouldn’t have bothered to contact him.’

  ‘What did you do together when you did see each other? I assume it wasn’t all rubbing shoulders with nobility.’

  ‘Of course not. We did what everyone does. Everyone of our sort, I mean. Dinner, a visit to a picture palace, or sometimes to the West End for a show; the occasional nightclub.’

  ‘Did you ever indulge in the current fashion amongst young people for drug taking?’

  ‘Never. I’m not that sort of girl. A little harmless sherry or a crème de menthe at Christmas.’

  The coroner forestalled a potential eruption of mirth from the jury with a raised finger. ‘Were you aware that Miles smoked opium?’

  ‘No.’ She appeared to think for a moment. ‘His clothes smelled a bit funny sometimes when he came to meet me straight from the shipping office but I thought that was just what the East End was like... no offence, but never having been here before.’

  Now May did expect to hear the blurt of a laugh - from the press gallery if not the jury - but Braxton Clarke’s earlier demand for respect seemed to have done the trick.

  ‘And I’m sure some of us in this courtroom wouldn’t know what a breath of fresh air smelled like either. Thank you, Miss Fogle. You may return to your seat or leave the courtroom; I won’t be needing to call you again.’

  So he wasn’t above indulging in a little gibing humour. May began to hope there would be a need for him to come to Poplar quite often. Then felt terrible because that was as good as wishing for people to die. He was looking at the last two witnesses.

  ‘Which of you would like to speak next?’

  It was the young man who put up his hand. ‘I’ll go.’ He was big and bulky and strode across the room with a faint swagger.

  ‘Could you please restate your name for the record?’

  ‘Richard Weatherby. Miles was once engaged to my sister, Amelia. In fact, I curse myself to this day that it was I who introduced them. We had a mutual friend and that led to us having the occasional drink together. Then one day he called for me and met Amelia. It was love at first sight - for her anyway - leading to what they call a whirlwind courtship. And unfortunately they became engaged.’

  ‘From the way you are speaking about him, I take it you didn’t like Miles Elliott?’

  ‘I did at first. He was a pleasant enough chap. Or I thought he was. But then he started messing Amelia around - breaking dates, not getting back in touch for days; sometimes turning up without warning as if nothing had happened.’

  ‘Was there perhaps another woman involved?’

  Richard Weatherby let out a high-pitched stutter of a laugh at odds with his bulk. ‘I doubt anyone who wasn’t as lovesick as my sister would’ve put up with him. One evening there was a flaming row - I was up in my room and could hear her crying. I ran down the stairs and threw him out of the house. Bodily. I was a boxing blue and he wouldn’t have stood a chance. Except he didn’t even try to put up a fight. I told him never to come to the house again. And he didn’t.’

  ‘When was this, Mr Weatherby?’

  ‘Back in the middle of January.’

  ‘And, to your knowledge, did your sister see him at all after that?’

  ‘No. She was confined to bed with nerves for a long while afterwards. She was becoming so ill that I packed her off to stay with our cousin on Lake Garda.’

  ‘Are you acquainted with drug taking, Mr Weatherby?’

  ‘Not personally, no; I spar at my local gymnasium and a man has to be in peak physical condition to be able to do that.’

  ‘Would you perhaps say that Miles Elliott’s behaviour was consistent with someone who frequently took recourse to opium?’

  ‘Don’t know enough about it to say. But if acting as if you’re the only person in the world who matters, and breaking an innocent girl’s heart without a by-your-leave is typical, then I suppose he could have been on the stuff.’

  ‘Now I have one last question and I want you to answer it as honestly as you can, Mr Weatherby: what would have happened had Miles Elliott come calling on your sister whilst she was lying under your roof in a state of distress?’

  ‘I’d have thumped him black and blue. No question of it.’

  ‘The court is very grateful for your forthrightness. You are free to return to your seat. And now if we can hear the final witness?’

  ‘Elizabeth Newick.’

  May had to tap her pencil on the table to get the girl’s attention. She was staring at the glove she was twisting around and around in her hand.

  ‘Miss Newick, I’m Braxton Clarke, the coroner. Are you all right? Would you like a drink of water?’

  ‘I don’t want to be here.’ She sounded like a three-year-old who’d awoken from a bad dream.

  ‘None of us do, Miss Newick, not in these circumstances. I can see you are agitated, would you like a moment to compose yourself?’

  ‘I don’t want to be in the same room as a man like that.’ She pointed a blood-red fingernail at Brilliant Chang. ‘He scares me. He’s the yellow peril I’ve read about in the Daily Express, isn’t he? All this talk of opium and being drugged and murdered.’

  ‘There’s no need to get hysterical, Miss Newick. Just a couple of questions and then you’re free to go.’

  ‘It’s the white slave trade at the heart of it. I know for a fact that’s what dirty foreigners like him get up to. It happened to a friend of mine. She was walking down the road when this Oriental came up and sort of mesmerised her with his slitty eyes and the next thing she knew she was-’

  ‘Enough of this nonsense.’

  In the still courtroom, May could hear the whisper of pencil lead scraping on paper in the gallery.

  The coroner must’ve also noticed the flurry of activity. ‘Impressionable youngsters with empty minds should not believe all they read in the press. Gentlemen,’ he looked up as if regarding a pack of salivating dogs, ‘this inquest is being conducted in order to get to the truth behind the death of a young man, not to sell your newspapers. It is thanks to your irresponsible reporting that someone like Miss Newick here can even entertain such wild and ridiculous imaginings. I demand you act with such slim codes of ethics as your profession holds and confine your coverage of everything that happens in this court to the indisputable facts or I will exercise my right under the law and have all future inquests held in camera.’

  He shifted his glance to May. ‘Miss Keaps, I trust you took a preliminary statement from this witness when she answered the summons?’

  ‘Over the telephone, yes.’

  ‘Did it contain anything that in your experience is of any relevance to the circumstances in which Miles Elliott
met his death?’

  May glanced briefly at her notes, then shook her head.

  ‘In that case please enter that into the record; I feel this court will hear nothing likely to provide any more enlightenment. In addition, please chase up the outstanding toxicology report and subpoena the expert witness to appear.’ He pushed his chair back and stood. ‘This inquest is adjourned to reconvene after Easter on Tuesday 6th April at twelve o’clock. Can I remind the jury and all witnesses who may be called again to appear that they remain under by oath until they are released by this court. God save the King.’

  Braxton Clarke left for his chambers. May collected her papers amid a babble of excited conversation from the jury members as they hurried out; by tonight they’d have traded drinks and tales of their first encounter with Braxton Clarke in every pub from here to Canning Town. She was conscious that Brilliant Chang had detached himself from his solicitor to stand by her side.

  ‘You and your new coroner have to believe that this tragic event has nothing to do with me, Miss Keaps. A man in my position cannot fail to attract enemies and I am afraid they have seized the opportunity of that unfortunate young man’s death to take their revenge. I saw how you looked at me when you were convinced I was the one who caused Miss Gem to take her life and know that a thirst for justice burns in your soul. I only ask that you do me the honour of allowing that to continue to guide you. But I would be neglectful if I did not warn you to be careful. As is only too evident from my predicament, a carefree future often rests in the hands of those with the means and inclination to destroy it; do not put yourself in the position of having to learn the truth of that firsthand.’

  He let his solemn gaze drop to the floor, and left.

  May walked around the courtroom collecting water jugs and glasses, her hands shaking at the man’s temerity. Had all those silken words just been a cocoon to deliver that final remark of a threat, or had they been the truth? Was the witness who had attempted to frame him working for these enemies he mentioned? If so, it had to be someone who wanted him out of the way - permanently if a murder charge could be made to stick. Was it to do with drugs? His arrival in Limehouse would’ve upset the local pattern of trade and with the patronage of his society friends he’d easily be able to undercut the market. It made sense. In May’s experience, money was almost always at the root of any power struggle.