That day week was a red letter day in the history of Thirsby. The
story of French’s discoveries, by this time common property, had
created an absolute furore in the little town. Never had such a series
of tragedies and thrills disturbed its placid existence. Never had
interest risen to such fever heat. It was therefore not surprising
that every available seat in the courthouse was occupied long before
the hour of the adjourned inquest, and that a queue of eager, pushing
people, unable to gain admittance, stretched away in a long column
from its door. But the police had seen to it that all who were
particularly interested in the tragedy had obtained places. In the row
usually reserved for barristers sat Oxley with Ruth Averill, who had
been summoned to attend as a witness, and Mrs. Oxley, who looked on
the girl as her charge and insisted on accompanying her. Whymper, now
an accepted lover, sat next Ruth, and behind were Tarkington, Bloxham,
Emerson, Philpot and the police doctor, Lingard. Major Valentine and
French were together in the seat usually occupied by the clerk of the
Crown, while Kent, looking harassed and anxious, was standing in the
body of the court, fumbling with a sheaf of papers and whispering to
his subordinates.
The coroner was that same Dr. Lonsdale who had acted in a similar
capacity some nine weeks earlier when the inquiry into the death of
the three victims of the Starvel fire had taken place. He also seemed
worried, as if he feared the elucidation of these mysterious
happenings might try his powers beyond their capacity.
The preliminaries having been gone through already, the coroner began
to take evidence immediately, and Dr. Emerson was called.
“You attended the late Mr. Markham Giles?” the coroner asked when he
had obtained the other’s name and qualifications.
“I attended him up to five years ago, when Dr. Philpot took the case
over. Owing to Dr. Philpot’s being ill at the time of his death I was
again called in.”
“For what complaint did you formerly attend the deceased?”
“Myocarditis. It was a disease of some years’ standing.”
“Myocarditis is heart disease, isn’t it? Was the deceased badly
affected?”
“Five years ago, fairly badly. I have no doubt that at the time of his
death he was much worse, as the disease is incurable and progressive.”
“We can no doubt get that from Dr. Philpot. When did you hear of Mr.
Giles’s death, Dr. Emerson?”
“On Wednesday morning, 15th September.”
“Who told you of it?”
“John Roper, the Starvel man-servant.”
“Did you go out to Starvel and examine the body?”
“Yes, I did, after first consulting Dr. Philpot on the case.”
“Oh, you saw Dr. Philpot. And what was the result of your
consultation?”
“Dr. Philpot told me that Mr. Giles had developed influenza, and that
he had seen him on Thursday. He was very weak and Dr. Philpot did not
expect him to get over it.”
“Then you examined the body?”
“Yes, I went out to Starvel immediately.”
“And what opinion did you then form as to the cause of death?”
“I believed it to be myocarditis.”
“And you gave a certificate to that effect?”
“I did.”
“Did you make any specific examination of the remains on which you
based your opinion?”
“Yes, so far as it was possible without a post-mortem.”
“And you were quite satisfied that you had made no mistake?”
“I was quite satisfied.”
“That will do in the meantime. Please do not go away, Dr. Emerson, as
I may have some further questions to put to you later.”
Dr. Philpot was then called. He corroborated the evidence of the last
witness in so far as it concerned himself. He had attended Mr. Giles
during the past five years. Deceased was suffering from myocarditis,
which had become worse and of which he might have died at any moment.
On the Thursday prior to his death witness had been informed by Roper,
Mr. Averill’s man-servant, that deceased seemed rather seriously ill,
and he went out to see him. Deceased was feeble and witness believed
that he was very near his end. Witness did not think he could live
more than three or four days. When he heard of his death it was only
what he had expected.
Ruth Averill was the next witness. She was nervous, but the sergeant
was deferential to her and the coroner fatherly and kind. Her evidence
was soon over. In answer to a number of questions she deposed that she
had known Mr. Giles fairly well and had been to sit with him on
different occasions during his illness. On the Tuesday of that tragic
week she had left Starvel to pay a short visit to York, and on her way
into Thirsby she had called to see him. He had seemed very weak and
frail. He could scarcely speak. Ruth had spent about ten minutes with
him and had then driven on to Thirsby. She had never seen him again.
A number of persons were then called relative to the funeral. The
clerk from the Town Hall who dealt with interments, the caretaker of
the new cemetery, the undertaker and such of his men as had assisted,
gave evidence in turn. The coroner was extremely detailed in his
questions, and when he had finished the whole history of the sad
affair stood revealed, with the exception of one point.
This was Roper’s false statement to the undertaker that the body
required to be coffined without delay. It had been decided that
nothing must leak out connecting the death of Giles with Starvel, and
it spoke volumes for the coroner’s skill that he was able to obtain
the other details of the interment while keeping Roper’s duplicity
secret.
From the united testimony given it seemed that Markham Giles had died
at some time during the Tuesday night. Roper had stated to more than
one witness that Mrs. Roper had gone out to see him about eight
o’clock on that evening, when she found him weak, but fairly easy and
showing no sign of any early collapse. About nine the next morning,
Wednesday, she went over again to find that the man had been dead for
some hours. Mr. Giles was lying in the same position as he had
occupied on the previous evening, and from the peaceful expression on
his face it looked as if he had passed away painlessly. Mrs. Roper had
gone back for her husband, who had returned with her to the cottage.
There they had done what they could, and Roper had then gone into
Thirsby and made arrangements for the funeral. First he had reported
the death to Dr. Emerson. Then he had called at the Town Hall and
purchased a grave, going on to the new cemetery to see the site.
Lastly, he had visited the undertaker, arranging the details of the
funeral.
The undertaker had known Mr. Giles, and later, on that day, the
Wednesday, he had sent out two men with a coffin which he believed
would be of the right size. His estimate had proved correct and the
men had placed the remains in the coffin, screwing down the lid and
leaving all ready for the funeral.
On the second day, the Friday, the interment took place. The same men
who had coffined the remains lifted the coffin into the hearse, and
they declared that they saw no signs of the screws having been
tampered with or of the presence of any person in the house during
their absence. The funeral was conducted in the customary manner, and
when the grave had been filled none of those who had been present
imagined that anything out of the common had taken place. Roper had
paid all the bills in advance, saying that the deceased had had a
premonition of his death and had handed him the sum of fifteen pounds
to meet the expenses.
French was the next witness. The coroner had been carefully primed as
to his evidence also, and asked only general questions.
“Now, Mr. French, you made some unexpected discoveries about this
matter?”
“I did, sir.”
“Will you please tell the jury in your own words the nature of these
discoveries and how you came to make them.”
This was French’s opportunity. Speaking respectfully and with an air
of the utmost candour, he told very nearly the truth. Deliberately he
slightly coloured the facts, coloured them with the object and in the
hope that somewhere Roper would read what he had said—and be deceived
into coming into the open.
“I was sent here,” he explained, “on a matter arising out of the fire
at Starvel. I made certain inquiries and received certain information.
As to the truth of the information I cannot of course bear testimony,
but I cannot explain the steps I took unless I mention it. With the
object of accounting for my actions, sir, is it your wish that I do
so?”
“If you please, Mr. French. We quite understand that your actual
evidence is confined to matters which came under your own observation.
That does not prevent you introducing explanatory matter as to how you
got your results.”
“Very good, sir. According to my information the following was the
state of affairs which had obtained prior to my being sent down here.
The late Mr. Averill had a sum of money amounting to several thousand
pounds stored in a safe in his bedroom. This was given in evidence at
the inquest on the victims of the Starvel tragedy. It was not then
mentioned, but it was the fact—always according to my information—that
that money had consisted largely of twenty-pound notes. Mr. Averill
was in the habit of sending to the bank the various cheques, dividends
and so forth by which he received his income. By his instructions
these were cashed and the money was returned to Starvel in the form of
twenty-pound notes, which the old gentleman placed with the others in
his safe. All these notes were believed to have been destroyed in the
fire. But it so happened that the numbers of the last consignment—ten
notes, for £200—were taken by the bank teller before the notes were
sent out to Starvel, and these notes were reported to the bank’s
headquarters as being destroyed. When, therefore, some three weeks
after the tragedy one of them turned up in London, questions were
asked. Reasons were given for believing that this particular note had
been in Mr. Averill’s safe at Starvel on the night of the fire, so the
suggestion at once arose that the fire was not an accident, but a
deliberate attempt to hide a crime of murder and burglary. I was sent
down to investigate the affair, and I may say that I found out who had
passed the note and satisfied myself beyond question that he had
received it in a legitimate manner, and that all his actions were
perfectly correct and in order. It followed, therefore, that the
finding of the note did not in reality support any theory of crime
such as had been put forward.”
While French was speaking the proverbial pin could have been heard,
had any one tried the experiment of dropping it in the courthouse. He
had, to put it mildly, the ear of his audience. Every one listened,
literally, with bated breath. Though it was vaguely known that he was
a detective working on the Starvel case, the story that he himself had
circulated had been generally accepted; that he was employed on behalf
of certain insurance companies to ascertain the cause of the outbreak.
To find that the pleasant-spoken, easygoing stranger whom the
townspeople had almost begun to accept as one of themselves, was none
other than a full-fledged inspector from Scotland Yard, investigating
what had been at first suspected to be a triple murder of an unusually
terrible and sinister kind, was a discovery so thrilling as completely
to absorb the attention of all.
“While engaged in clearing up the Starvel affair,” French went on, “a
hint was conveyed to me that I was working on the wrong case: that if
I wanted a real mystery I should drop what I was at and turn my
attention to the death and burial, particularly the burial, of Mr.
Giles. With your permission, sir, I do not feel at liberty to mention
the source from which this hint came. It was very vague, but we men
from the Yard are taught to pick up vague hints. I thought over the
matter for some days before I guessed what might be meant. Could Mr.
Giles’s coffin have been used as a hiding place for stolen goods? I
knew, of course, of the many burglaries which had taken place in the
surrounding country during the last six months. I knew also that if
burglars wished to hide their swag, no better place could be devised
than a coffin. There it would be safe until the hue and cry had died
down and from there it could be recovered when desired. If this theory
were true, the gang of burglars would either have heard of Mr. Giles’s
death and used the circumstances to their advantage, or they would
have arranged the circumstance by murdering him. In either case they
would have taken the remains from the coffin, buried them somewhere
close by, and replaced them with the stolen articles.”
French paused and a wave of movement swept over the crowded assembly
as its members changed their cramped positions. Seldom had the public
had such a treat and they were not going to miss any of it. There was
an instantaneous stiffening to concentrated attention as French
resumed:—
“After careful consideration I thought the matter serious enough to
warrant action. I therefore obtained an order to open the grave, and
there I found that my suspicions were well founded. There was no body
in the coffin, but on the other hand there was no swag. The coffin was
half-full of earth. But this did not of course invalidate the theory I
have outlined. It only meant that if that theory were true we were
late; that at some time within the past nine weeks the burglars had
visited the churchyard and removed the stuff. This might or might not
have happened.”