Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery

CHAPTER XXXV
LADY WHARTON STARTLES THE COURT

When the jury re-assembled on Wednesday the excitement created by the mystery had reached fever heat, and long before the Court was opened a crowd of people had gathered round the doors. Numbers of influential persons had applied for admission, and as many of these were accommodated as the limited space at the disposal of the Coroner would permit. The first day's proceedings had whetted curiosity, and many members of the aristocracy were present to hear the evidence which Lady Wharton was to give, the nature of which had been kept a profound secret. The learned professions were adequately represented; the stage sent some of its best actors and actresses, and literature some of its most famous authors. Never in the history of crime had a gathering so notable assembled at the initial inquiry into the circumstances of a mystery murder.

The murdered man had been buried the previous day, and a vast concourse of people had attended the funeral. Reginald-still very weak-and Florence were the chief mourners, and in their carriage were Inspector Robson and his wife. There was but one other mourning carriage, and this was occupied by Dick and the poor charwoman who had been fitfully employed domestically by the deceased. The newspapers devoted columns to descriptions of the funeral and to those pictorial sketches of personages and incidents which have become almost a craze in up-to-date journalism. Standing by the grave, Dick, looking over the heads of the people, saw Gracie and her mother and Dr. Vinsen, side by side. Mrs. Death was in tears, Gracie wore her accustomed impassive expression, and Dr. Vinsen bared his halo to the skies.

"My young friend, my dear young friend," he said, sidling up to Dick, "this is the end of a crafty life, but let us extend our pity-ex-tend our pi-ty. The grave, like charity, covereth a multitude of sins. We will be clement; we will soften our judgment; it is the least we can do in the presence of death, in the solemn presence of death. If it teaches us a lesson, Mr. Samuel Boyd will not have lived in vain."

"What lesson?" asked Dick, half angrily; the voice, the manner, jarred upon him.

"The lesson of humility, of charity-sweet charity-of justice."

"You call the life that ends here," said Dick, pointing to the grave, "a crafty life. Where does justice come in?"

"Ah, my young friend," responded Dr. Vinsen, shaking his head remonstrantly, "ah, my dear young friend!"

"Meaning-what?" demanded Dick.

"Meaning that you are young, that you have much to learn, much to unlearn."

"You speak in enigmas," said Dick. "Good day."

"Not in anger," said Dr. Vinsen, gently, "not in anger, my dear young friend, lest the dead rise to reproach you."

"He is better where he is," said Dick, cynically. "I knew him-did you?"

"I had not the privilege. In life we never met."

"But you take it very much to heart. Why?"

"My heart is large; it bleeds for all." He laid his hand upon the shoulder of Mrs. Death, and repeated, "It bleeds for all."

"More enigmas-more platitudes," said Dick, scornfully.

Dr. Vinsen looked at him with a pitying smile. "I fear I do not find favour in your eyes."

"To speak plainly, you do not."

"To speak plainly is commendable. But give a reason for it."

"I cannot. You have a scientist for a friend."

"Dr. Pye? Yes."

"He will tell you that there are certain chemicals that will not mix."

"I do not need to be told. I know it."

"Well, then, Dr. Vinsen, we don't mix; and there's an end of it."

"No, my young friend, not an end of it. The end is there, for him, for you, for all. Better for some of us if we were in our graves." There was no change in his voice; it was mild, benignant, reproachful. "Better, far better, for some of us if we were in our graves. Come, Mrs. Death; come, Gracie, my child."

They turned away, but not before Gracie had taken Dick's hand and kissed it.

And now, on Wednesday morning, the Coroner took his place, and addressed the jury in the following terms:

"Upon the opening of this inquiry I advised you to keep an open mind respecting it, and to turn a deaf ear to the strange rumours and reports which were in circulation. I feel it necessary to repeat this caution. The extraordinary statements which have appeared in the public press may or may not have a foundation of fact, but with these statements we have nothing to do, and I beg you to dismiss them. You are here to give your verdict in accordance with the evidence which will be presented to you, and not in accordance with unauthorised and unverified rumour. If you do this without fear or favour you will have performed your duty. Before medical evidence is taken Inspector Robson has requested permission to make a statement, to which, as he is an important witness in the case, I see no objection."

Inspector Robson was then called.

The Coroner: "Does the statement you wish to make, Inspector Robson, relate to the present inquiry?"

Inspector Robson: "It does, Mr. Coroner, though it has no direct bearing upon it. A matter has come to my knowledge since Monday which, although it is purely of a private nature, I consider it my duty to make public. Constable Applebee, in his evidence on that day, mentioned that on the night of the 5th, when he was in Catchpole Square, he saw a woman there whom he challenged, and who escaped from him. The incident was reported at the Bishop Street Station, and note was taken of it. I wish to state that the lady he challenged is my daughter."

"You were not aware of the fact when Constable Applebee was under examination?"

"I was not. My daughter, hearing on Monday that the incident had been mentioned in court, informed me that it was she who had visited Catchpole Square on the night in question."

"Is there any special reason why she did not inform you of it before?"

"None. Had the matter been of importance she would have spoken of it earlier."

"Perhaps we had better hear from her own lips the reason of her visit. Is she in court?"

"She is."

"Let her be called."

Florence came forward. She was sitting between Reginald and her mother, who gave her an encouraging smile as she left them.

The Coroner: "You have heard what your father has said. There is no obligation upon you to state why you went to Catchpole Square at such an hour on such a night; but we are ready to listen to any explanation you may desire to make."

Florence: "I will answer any questions you ask."

"Previous to your visit where were you on that night?"

"At my husband's lodgings in Park Street, Islington. He was very ill, and I was nursing him."

"Did he send you for his father?"

"No, he was delirious. He spoke of his father several times, and it appeared to me to be my duty to make him acquainted with his son's dangerous condition. There was no one else to go but myself, and I went to Catchpole Square because I considered it right to do so."

The Juror (who had taken so conspicuous a part in Monday's proceedings): "When he spoke of his father, what were his precise words?"

The Coroner: "I do not think the witness should be asked that question."

Florence: "Oh, yes, there is nothing to conceal. He simply said, 'My father, my father!' and I gathered from that that he wished to see him. It was natural that I should think so."

The Coroner: "Quite natural. You arrived at Catchpole Square, and knocked at the door of the deceased?"

"Yes, I knocked a good many times, but no one answered me. As I was about to leave the square I heard voices, and saw, very dimly, two men very close to me. I did not know they were policemen, and one of them called out to me to stop, and caught hold of me. I was so frightened that I tore myself away, and ran out of the Square as quickly as I could."

The Juror: "Did you know at that time that your husband was not on good terms with his father?"

The Coroner: "You need not answer that question."

"I wish to answer every question. I did know it, and I knew that there was no fault on my husband's part. It was my hope that his illness would lead to a reconciliation between them. I thank God that my husband is spared to me, but if he had died I should never have forgiven myself if I had not made the attempt to bring his father to him."

"Thank you, Mrs. Boyd; that is all we have to ask."

A buzz of admiration ran through the court as Florence returned to her seat by Reginald's side.

Dr. Talbot Rowbottom, of Harley Street, a member of the Royal College of Surgeons and a doctor of medicine, was then called.

"You examined the body of the deceased?"

"Yes, on Sunday, at the request of Mr. Reginald Boyd, who wrote me a note to that effect. I had read of the discovery of the body in the newspapers, and, anticipating an inquest, I called first upon you, as coroner of the district, and received your permission to make the examination."

"Did the deceased die a natural death?"

"No. He met his death by strangulation."

"You have no doubt upon the subject?"

"Not the slightest."

"He could not have strangled himself?"

"From the condition of the body that is impossible."

"Does your examination of the body warrant you in saying that there was resistance on the part of the deceased?"

"Great resistance. There is every indication of a violent struggle having taken place."

"So that the orderly state of the bed and bedclothes was unnatural?"

"Most unnatural. After the deed was done singular care must have been taken to compose the limbs and arrange the bedclothes."

"Do you consider it likely that, during the struggle, the deceased succeeded in getting out of bed?"

"More than likely. I observed upon the body traces of bruises which could not have been produced had the deceased remained in bed. There was a bruise upon the shin of the right leg, another on the head, and another on the right shoulder. These must have been caused by the deceased coming into violent contact with heavy pieces of furniture. Above the left eye there was an abrasion from a similar cause."

"Was there any wound on the body such as might have been caused by a knife or a pistol?"

"No."

"Is the furniture in the bedroom of a sufficiently heavy character to cause the wounds and abrasions you spoke of?"

"There is no heavy furniture in the bedroom. My impression is that the deceased was first attacked in his sleep, that he awoke, that in the course of the struggle he succeeded in getting out of bed, and dragged, or was dragged by his assailant or assailants, into the adjoining apartment, where the furniture is of a much more substantial description."

"Do you consider it likely that the deceased could have called for help during the struggle?"

"Not to any appreciable extent. The compression of the windpipe was remarkable, and under such compression the capacity of the vocal chords must have been considerably weakened. Even had he succeeded in releasing himself for a few moments he could not in that brief time have regained control of his voice. The exhaustion would have been too great."

"Now, Dr. Rowbottom, you examined the body on Sunday, the l0th. Can you state with some degree of precision on what approximate date the deceased met his death?"

"He must have been dead at least eight days."

"That takes us back to Sunday, the 3rd?"

"Yes. And it is probable that he died the day before, on the Saturday."

At these words, which were uttered with decision, there was a commotion in the part of the court in which Lady Wharton was sitting, but the Coroner looking with some severity in that direction, her ladyship, who had risen to her feet, obeyed the injunction of her counsel not to speak. She sank back in her seat, and evinced her agitation by a vigorous fluttering of her fan. When the excitement caused by this interruption had subsided, the Coroner continued.

"The deceased being in his night attire, we may take it that he died either on the night of Friday, the 1st of March, or on the night of Saturday, the 2nd?"

"Certainly on one of those nights."

"Absolutely certain?"

"Absolutely certain."

Dr. John Webster, of Canonbury Square, and Dr. Lipman, of Wimpole Street, who were next examined, corroborated in every respect the evidence of Dr. Rowbottom, and agreed with the conclusions at which he had arrived. They spoke positively to the fact that the deceased had been brutally murdered, and to the presumption that the murder had taken place either on the Friday or the Saturday night.

At this stage of the inquiry Mr. Finnis, Q.C., requested the Coroner to take Lady Wharton as the next witness. Her ladyship, he said, had evidence of an extraordinary nature to give which would throw an entirely new light upon the inquiry, and it was most important that there should be as little delay as possible in hearing what she had to say.

The Coroner: "Before Lady Wharton is examined there is official information to lay before the jury. An officer from the detective department in Scotland Yard is present, and we will hear him first. He has duties elsewhere, and is anxious to be relieved from a longer attendance in this court than is absolutely necessary. His evidence will open up matter which may have a bearing on the verdict. Call Mr. Lambert."

This gentleman, whose name is well known in association with many celebrated criminal cases, stepped forward and was sworn.

"You are a detective in official service?"

"I am."

"You have visited the house of the deceased in Catchpole Square?"

"On three occasions. The first on Sunday, the second on Monday, the third yesterday."

"Whom did you find in charge there?"

"Mr. Richard Remington, who gave me every facility for a thorough examination of the premises."

"Describe what steps you took, and their result."

"I first examined the bedroom and the adjoining office. On the floor of both rooms I observed the marks of a man's footsteps, with stains of blood which had been trodden upon. In three places the footmarks were partially outlined in these stains, and I took photographs of them."

"Are these the photographs?"

"Yes."

The Coroner passed the photographs to the jury.

"How do you form the conclusion that they are the footsteps of a man?"

"The boots are those of a man, and the size, No. 8, is an unusual size for a woman."

"Were there marks of other footsteps?"

"None."

"Could these footsteps have been made by the deceased?"

"No. The deceased was flat-footed; the man who wore the boots had a defined arch in his soles. Here are photographs of the soles of deceased's boots; you will see a marked difference in the size and shape."

The photographs were produced, and examined by the Coroner and the jury.

"After searching the bedroom and the adjoining office you proceeded to another part of the premises."

"With your permission I will first finish with these two rooms."

"Very well. Proceed."

"The walls of the office are partially hung with old tapestry, and I observed in one place that a hand had clutched it. The finger marks are still discernible, and the tapestry has not returned to its original folds. This indicates that, during a struggle, one of the men had caught hold of it. Upon parts of the wall not covered with tapestry are scratches which seem to have been made by finger nails."

"Recent scratches?"

"Made within the last two or three weeks."

"Do you consider it certain that there was a struggle between the deceased and his assailant?"

"I am positive there was."

"In that case would there not have been, in addition to the defined blood stains of footmarks, smears of blood upon the floor?"

"I was coming to that. There is no doubt that a prolonged struggle took place, but the absence of blood-smears, such as would have been caused by the naked feet of the deceased, proves that the wound from which the blood proceeded could not have been inflicted during the struggle."

"Before or after?"

"After. If blood had dropped upon the floor before the struggle it would have taken some time to dry, and signs of dragging feet would have been observable. Besides, there would have been blood-stains on the naked feet of the deceased. There were none. Examining farther I discovered a bullet in the wall, which I extracted, and which must have been fired within the last two or three weeks. The bore is .320, the barrel of the pistol, four inch. The weapon used was probably a Colt's ejector revolver."

"Probably, you say. Did you not find the pistol?"

"No. I inquired of Mr. Remington whether he had found one. He had not."

"So that you cannot say whether the shot was fired by the deceased or his assailant?"

"I cannot say."

"Was that the only bullet you found?"

"The only one. My examination of these two rooms concluded, I turned my attention to other parts of the house. On the stairs leading from the street door to the bedroom I picked up two pieces of brown paper, with small pieces of wax adhering to them."

"Did you examine the back of the premises?"

"Yes. Over the basement rooms, which had not been used for a considerable time, was a window which had been broken from without, and broken by an unskilled hand."

"How do you arrive at the conclusion that the window was broken from without?"

"By the splinters of glass on the floor of the room, and by the broken pieces remaining in the panes, the jagged edges of which are a verification of my statement."

"We should like to hear your reason for saying that the hand that broke the window was unskilled?"

"A regular burglar would have been provided with tools which would have enabled him to cut the glass without running the risk of personal injury."

"But might not such a man have adopted these rougher means for the purpose of averting suspicion?"

"I have never known it done by a skilled burglar. It was through this window that the man effected an entrance. Continuing my investigation I came to the wall which surrounds the back of the house, and there I received confirmation of the theory I had formed. The man had brought with him a rope to which a grapnel was attached. This rope he had thrown up from the outside until the grapnel caught in the mortar at the top of the wall. Then he climbed up; the rest was easy. The marks of the grapnel are plainly discernible, and the freshness of the loosened mortar proves that but a short time has elapsed since he paid his last visit."

"Is it your opinion that there was more than one visit?"

"As to that I have formed no opinion."

"All this must have taken some time?"

"Yes, and was done at night when there were few people about. The street on which the dead wall abuts is but little frequented. The movements of the policeman on the beat were doubtless carefully noted."

"Should you say that robbery was the object of this burglarious entrance?"

"It is a fair presumption."

"Did you search the clothes of the deceased?"

"Yes. Mr. Remington had gone through the pockets before I came, and had replaced what he found in them."

The Juror who had asked previous questions: "How do you know that?"

"He told me so. The watch and chain had not been taken, and there was money in his purse, a £5 note and some gold and silver, £9 18s. in all. I opened the safe; there were no articles of value in it. If there had been any before the death of the deceased they had been removed, and the key put back in its original place."

"You found no burglars' tools about?"

"None."

"Nor tools of any kind?"

"No."

"There were desks and drawers in the room adjoining the bedroom. Did any of the locks appear to have been forced?"

"No."

"I have no further questions to ask you, Mr. Lambert. Call Lady Wharton."

Expectation ran high at this summons. The scenes in Court in which her ladyship had played a principal part, and her excited comments upon a vital point in the inquiry, had caused her evidence to be looked forward to with intense interest.

The Coroner: "We understand that you have a communication of importance to make to the jury, and we are now prepared to hear what you have to say. You were acquainted with the deceased?"

Lady Wharton: "Whom do you mean by the deceased?"

The Coroner: "You are here to answer questions, Lady Wharton, not to ask them."

Lady Wharton: "But I do ask them. I want to know whom you mean by the deceased."

The Coroner: "Mr. Samuel Boyd, of course. You were acquainted with him?"

"I was very slightly acquainted with him. As a matter of fact I saw him only twice in my life. The first time was on the evening of Friday, the 1st of March. Lord Wharton had entered into certain financial transactions with Mr. Boyd, which did not come to my knowledge till a week or two before that date. Some settlement had to be made respecting these transactions, and Lord Wharton being ill, I undertook the business, having also a little business of my own to do with him. So far as I am aware there was no person in the house except Mr. Boyd when I called upon him in Catchpole Square. The business being of a private nature I entered alone, and ordered my servant to wait outside for me in the Square."

"At what hour was this visit paid?"

"At eight o'clock, and I remained with him thirty or forty minutes. I had brought with me some bills signed by Lord Wharton and endorsed by my brother, Lord Fairfax. In return for these bills I should have received bills not then due. It slipped my mind at the time, and I wrote to him about them, and about another matter as well. In his reply he promised to bring the old bills to our place in Bournemouth on Thursday night, the 7th."

"A moment if you please. Do you say that you received a letter from the deceased on a date subsequent to Friday, the 1st of March?"

"I say that I received a letter from Mr. Samuel Boyd on the 6th of March, and that I saw him on the night of the 7th."

So great was the commotion in the Court at this statement that it was two or three minutes before order was restored.

The Coroner: "Do you seriously assert this, Lady Wharton, in the teeth of the medical evidence that Mr. Samuel Boyd met his death on the night of the 1st or the 2nd of March?"

Lady Wharton: "A fig for the medical evidence! Mr. Samuel Boyd was alive last Thursday night, and it is my belief that he is alive at this moment!"

The Coroner: "Surely, surely, Lady Wharton-"

Lady Wharton (interrupting excitedly): "And surely, surely, Mr. Coroner! Am I to believe the evidence of my senses? I tell you I saw the man last Thursday night, and had a conversation with him; and as his body has not been found, Mr. Samuel Boyd is alive now, and is keeping out of the way, like the thief and scoundrel he is, for the purpose of robbing me!"