"THE MAJOR."
No further questions were put to the cab-driver at this juncture, but
medical evidence was at once taken. Breathless stillness pervaded the
court, for the statement about to be made would put an end to all
rumour, and the truth would be known.
When the dapper elderly man had stepped up to the table and been sworn,
the Coroner, in the quick, business-like tone which he always assumed
toward his fellow medical men, said--
"You are Doctor Charles Wyllie, house-surgeon, Charing Cross Hospital?"
"I am," the other answered in a correspondingly dry tone.
"The woman was brought to the hospital, I suppose?"
"Yes, the police brought her, but she had already been dead about
three-quarters of an hour. There were no external marks of violence,
and her appearance was as though she had died suddenly from natural
causes. In conjunction with Doctor Henderson, I yesterday made a
careful post-mortem. The body is that of a healthy woman of about
twenty-three, evidently an Italian. There was no trace whatever of
organic disease. From what I noticed when the body was brought to the
hospital, however, I asked the police to let it remain untouched until I
was ready to make a post-mortem."
"Did you discover anything which might lead to suspicion of foul play?"
inquired the Coroner.
"I made several rather curious discoveries," the doctor answered,
whereat those in court shifted uneasily, prepared for some thrilling
story of how the woman was murdered. "First, she undoubtedly died from
paralysis of the heart. Secondly, I found around the left ankle a
curious tattoo-mark in the form of a serpent with its tail in its mouth.
It is beautifully executed, evidently by an expert tattooist. Thirdly,
there was a white mark upon the left breast, no doubt the scar of a
knife-wound, which I judged to have been inflicted about two years ago.
The knife was probably a long narrow-bladed one, and the bone had
prevented the blow proving fatal."
"Then a previous attempt had been made upon her life, you think?" asked
the Coroner, astonished.
"There is no doubt about it," the doctor answered. "Such a wound could
never have been caused by accident. It had no doubt received careful
surgical attention, judging from the cicatrice."
"But this had nothing to do with her death?" the Coroner suggested.
"Nothing whatever," replied the doctor. "The appearance of the body
gives no indication of foul play."
"Then you assign death to natural causes--eh?"
"No, I do not," responded Dr Wyllie deliberately, after a slight pause.
"The woman was murdered."
These words produced a great sensation in the breathlessly silent court.
"By what means?"
"That I have utterly failed to discover. All appearances point to the
fact that the deceased lost consciousness almost instantly, for she had
no time even to take out her handkerchief or smelling-salts, the first
thing a woman does when she feels faint. Death came very swiftly, but
the ingenious means by which the murder was accomplished are at present
entirely a mystery. At first my suspicions were aroused by a curious
discoloration of the mouth, which I noticed when I first saw the body;
but, strangely enough, this had disappeared yesterday when I made the
post-mortem. Again, in the centre of the left palm, extending to the
middle finger, was a dark and very extraordinary spot. This I have
examined microscopically, and submitted the skin to various tests, but
have entirely failed to determine the cause of the mark. It is dark
grey in colour, and altogether mysterious."
"There was no puncture in the hand?" inquired the Coroner.
"None whatever. I examined the body thoroughly, and found not a
scratch," the doctor answered quickly. "At first I suspected a
subcutaneous injection of poison; but this theory is negatived by the
absence of any puncture."
"But you adhere to your first statement that she was murdered?"
"Certainly. I am confident that the paralysis is not attributable to
natural causes."
"Have you found any trace of poison?"
"The contents of the stomach were handed over by the police to the
analyst. I cannot say what he has reported," the doctor answered
sharply.
At once the Coroner's officer interposed with the remark that the
analyst was present, and would give evidence.
The foreman of the jury then put several questions to the doctor.
"Do you think, doctor," he asked, "that it would be possible to murder a
woman while she was sitting in a cab in so crowded a place as Piccadilly
Circus?"
"The greater the crowd, the less the chance of detection, I believe."
"Have you formed no opinion how this assassination was accomplished? Is
there absolutely nothing which can serve as clue to the manner in which
this mysterious crime was perpetrated?"
"Absolutely nothing beyond what I have already explained," the witness
answered. "The grey mark is on the palm of the left hand, which at the
time of the mysterious occurrence was gloved. On the hand which was
ungloved there is no mark. I therefore am of opinion that this curious
discoloration is evidence in some way or other of murder."
"Was she a lady?"
"She had every evidence of being so. All her clothing was of
first-class quality, and the four rings she wore were of considerable
value. When I came to make the post-mortem, I found both hands and feet
slightly swollen, therefore it was impossible to remove her rings
without cutting."
The evidence of Dr Slade, Analyst to the Home Office, being brief, was
quickly disposed of. He stated that he had submitted the contents of
the stomach to analysis for poison, but had failed to find trace of
anything baneful. It was apparent that the woman had not eaten anything
for many hours, but that was, of course, accounted for by the fact that
she had been travelling. His evidence entirely dismissed the theory of
poison, although Dr Wyllie had asserted most positively that death had
resulted from the administration of some substance which had proved so
deadly as to cause her to lose consciousness almost instantly, and
produce paralysis of the heart.
Certainly the report of the analyst did not support the doctor's theory.
Dr Wyllie was one of the last persons to indulge unduly in any
sensationalism, and the Coroner, knowing him well through many years,
was aware that there must be some very strong basis for his theory
before he would publicly express his conviction that the woman had
actually been murdered. Such a statement, when published in the Press
in two or three hours' time, would, he knew, give the doctor wide
notoriety as a sensation-monger--the very thing he detested above
everything. But the fact remained that on oath Dr Wyllie had declared
that the fair, unknown foreigner had been foully and most ingeniously
murdered. If this were really so, then the culprit must be a past
master in the art of assassination. Of all the inquiries the Coroner
had held during many years of office, this certainly was one of the most
sensational and mysterious.
When the analyst had concluded, a smartly-dressed young woman, named
Arundale, was called. She stated that she was a barmaid at the
Criterion, and related how the unknown man, whose appearance she
described, had entered the bar, called for a whisky and soda, chatted
with her for a few minutes, and then made his exit by the other door.
"Did he speak to any one else while in the bar?" asked the Coroner.
"Yes, while he was talking to me, an older, well-dressed man entered
rather hurriedly. The gentleman speaking to me appeared very
surprised--indeed, almost alarmed. Then, drawing aside so that I should
not overhear, they exchanged a few hurried words, and the elder left by
the back exit, refusing the other's invitation to drink. The younger
man glanced at his watch, then turned, finished his whisky leisurely,
and chatted to me again. I noticed that he was watching the front door
all the time, but believing him to be expecting a friend when, suddenly
wishing me a hasty `Good night,' he threw down a shilling and left."
"What sort of man was it who spoke to him?" inquired the Coroner
quickly.
"He was a military man, for I heard him addressed as `Major.'"
"Curious!" the Coroner observed, turning to the jury. "The cab-driver
in his evidence says that a certain Major met the pair at Charing Cross
Station. It may have been the same person. This coincidence is
certainly striking, and one which must be left to the police to
investigate. We have it in evidence that the woman and her companion
drove away in the cab, leaving the Major--whoever he may be--standing on
the platform. The pair drove straight to the Criterion; yet five
minutes later the woman's companion was joined by another Major, who is
apparently one and the same."
The constable who took the body to the hospital then related how, while
on duty in Piccadilly Circus, he had been called to the cab, and found
the woman dead. Afterwards he had searched the pockets of the deceased,
and taken possession of the lady's dressing-case and the man's
hand-bag--all the luggage they had with them in addition to their wraps.
He produced the two bags, with their contents, objects which excited
considerable interest throughout the room. In the man's bag was a suit
of dress-clothes, a small dressing-case, and one or two miscellaneous
articles, but nothing by which the owner could be traced.
"Well, what did you find in the lady's pockets? Anything to lead to her
identity?" the Coroner asked at last.
"No, sir. In addition to a purse containing some English money, I found
a key, a gentleman's card bearing the name `Arnoldo Romanelli,' and a
small crucifix of ivory and silver. In the dressing-case, which you
will see is fitted with silver and ivory fittings," he continued,
opening it to the gaze of the jury, "there are a few valuable trinkets,
one or two articles of attire, and a letter written in Italian--"
"I have the letter here," interrupted the Coroner, addressing the jury.
"Its translation reads as follows:--
"`Dear Vittorina,
"`Be extremely cautious if you really mean to go to England. It is
impossible for me to accompany you, or I would; but you know my presence
in Italy is imperative. You will easily find Bonciani's Cafe, in Regent
Street. Remember, at the last table on the left every Monday at five.
"`With every good wish for a pleasant journey,
"`Egisto.'
"The letter, which has no envelope," added the Coroner, "is dated from
Lucca, a town in Tuscany, a week ago. It may possibly assist the police
in tracing friends of the deceased." Then, turning to the constable, he
asked, "Well, what else was in the lady's bag?"
"This photograph," answered the officer, holding up a cabinet
photograph.
"Why!" cried the cab-driver, who had taken a seat close to where the
policeman was standing. "Why, that's a photograph of the Major!"
"Yes," added the barmaid excitedly, "that's the same man who came up to
the gentleman while he was speaking to me. Without doubt that's the
Major, and an excellent portrait, too."
"Strange that this, of all things, should be in the dead woman's
possession, when we have it in evidence that she was introduced to him
only half an hour before her death," observed the Coroner. "Very
strange indeed. Every moment the mystery surrounding this unknown woman
seems to grow more impenetrable."