Mr. Allan Smith, secretary of the Tram-men's Union, stated that he had
had an interview with the deceased on the day before his death, when he
(the deceased) spoke hopefully of the prospects of the movement, and
wrote him out a check for ten guineas for his Union. Deceased promised to
speak at a meeting called for a quarter past seven A.M. the next day.
Mr. Edward Wimp, of the Scotland Yard Detective Department, said that the
letters and papers of the deceased threw no light upon the manner of his
death, and they would be handed back to the family. His Department had
not formed any theory on the subject.
The coroner proceeded to sum up the evidence. "We have to deal,
gentlemen," he said, "with a most incomprehensible and mysterious case,
the details of which are yet astonishingly simple. On the morning of
Tuesday, the 4th inst., Mrs. Drabdump, a worthy hard-working widow, who
lets lodgings at 11 Glover Street, Bow, was unable to arouse the
deceased, who occupied the entire upper floor of the house. Becoming
alarmed, she went across to fetch Mr. George Grodman, a gentleman known
to us all by reputation, and to whose clear and scientific evidence we
are much indebted, and got him to batter in the door. They found the
deceased lying back in bed with a deep wound in his throat. Life had only
recently become extinct. There was no trace of any instrument by which
the cut could have been effected: there was no trace of any person who
could have effected the cut. No person could apparently have got in or
out. The medical evidence goes to show that the deceased could not have
inflicted the wound himself. And yet, gentlemen, there are, in the nature
of things, two--and only two--alternative explanations of his death.
Either the wound was inflicted by his own hand, or it was inflicted by
another's. I shall take each of these possibilities separately. First,
did the deceased commit suicide? The medical evidence says deceased was
lying with his hands clasped behind his head. Now the wound was made from
right to left, and terminated by a cut on the left thumb. If the deceased
had made it he would have had to do it with his right hand, while his
left hand remained under his head--a most peculiar and unnatural position
to assume. Moreover, in making a cut with the right hand, one would
naturally move the hand from left to right. It is unlikely that the
deceased would move his right hand so awkwardly and unnaturally, unless,
of course, his object was to baffle suspicion. Another point is that on
this hypothesis, the deceased would have had to replace his right hand
beneath his head. But Dr. Robinson believes that death was instantaneous.
If so, deceased could have had no time to pose so neatly. It is just
possible the cut was made with the left hand, but then the deceased was
right-handed. The absence of any signs of a possible weapon undoubtedly
goes to corroborate the medical evidence. The police have made an
exhaustive search in all places where the razor or other weapon or
instrument might by any possibility have been concealed, including the
bed-clothes, the mattress, the pillow, and the street into which it might
have been dropped. But all theories involving the wilful concealment of
the fatal instrument have to reckon with the fact or probability that
death was instantaneous, also with the fact that there was no blood about
the floor. Finally, the instrument used was in all likelihood a razor,
and the deceased did not shave, and was never known to be in possession
of any such instrument. If, then, we were to confine ourselves to the
medical and police evidence, there would, I think, be little hesitation
in dismissing the idea of suicide. Nevertheless, it is well to forget the
physical aspect of the case for a moment and to apply our minds to an
unprejudiced inquiry into the mental aspect of it. Was there any reason
why the deceased should wish to take his own life? He was young, wealthy,
and popular, loving and loved; life stretched fair before him. He had no
vices. Plain living, high thinking, and noble doing were the three
guiding stars of his life. If he had had ambition, an illustrious public
career was within his reach. He was an orator of no mean power, a
brilliant and industrious man. His outlook was always on the future--he
was always sketching out ways in which he could be useful to his
fellow-men. His purse and his time were ever at the command of whosoever
could show fair claim upon them. If such a man were likely to end his own
life, the science of human nature would be at an end. Still, some of the
shadows of the picture have been presented to us. The man had his moments
of despondency--as which of us has not? But they seem to have been few
and passing. Anyhow, he was cheerful enough on the day before his death.
He was suffering, too, from toothache. But it does not seem to have been
violent, nor did he complain. Possibly, of course, the pain became very
acute in the night. Nor must we forget that he may have overworked
himself, and got his nerves into a morbid state. He worked very hard,
never rising later than half-past seven, and doing far more than the
professional 'labour leader.' He taught, and wrote, as well as spoke and
organised. But on the other hand all witnesses agreed that he was looking
forward eagerly to the meeting of tram-men on the morning of the 4th
inst. His whole heart was in the movement. Is it likely that this was the
night he would choose for quitting the scene of his usefulness? Is it
likely that if he had chosen it, he would not have left letters and a
statement behind, or made a last will and testament? Mr. Wimp has found
no possible clue to such conduct in his papers. Or is it likely he would
have concealed the instrument? The only positive sign of intention is the
bolting of his door in addition to the usual locking of it, but one
cannot lay much stress on that. Regarding the mental aspects alone, the
balance is largely against suicide; looking at the physical aspects,
suicide is well-nigh impossible. Putting the two together, the case
against suicide is all but mathematically complete. The answer, then, to
our first question, Did the deceased commit suicide? is, that he did
not."
The coroner paused, and everybody drew a long breath. The lucid
exposition had been followed with admiration. If the coroner had stopped
now, the jury would have unhesitatingly returned a verdict of "murder."
But the coroner swallowed a mouthful of water and went on:--
"We now come to the second alternative--was the deceased the victim of
homicide? In order to answer that question in the affirmative it is
essential that we should be able to form some conception of the modus
operandi. It is all very well for Dr. Robinson to say the cut was made by
another hand; but in the absence of any theory as to how the cut could
possibly have been made by that other hand, we should be driven back to
the theory of self-infliction, however improbable it may seem to medical
gentlemen. Now, what are the facts? When Mrs. Drabdump and Mr. Grodman
found the body it was yet warm, and Mr. Grodman, a witness fortunately
qualified by special experience, states that death had been quite recent.
This tallies closely enough with the view of Dr. Robinson, who, examining
the body about an hour later, put the time of death at two or three hours
before, say seven o'clock. Mrs. Drabdump had attempted to wake the
deceased at a quarter to seven, which would put back the act to a little
earlier. As I understand from Dr. Robinson, that it is impossible to fix
the time very precisely, death may have very well taken place several
hours before Mrs. Drabdump's first attempt to wake deceased. Of course,
it may have taken place between the first and second calls, as he may
merely have been sound asleep at first; it may also not impossibly have
taken place considerably earlier than the first call, for all the
physical data seem to prove. Nevertheless, on the whole, I think we shall
be least likely to err if we assume the time of death to be half-past
six. Gentlemen, let us picture to ourselves No. 11 Glover Street, at
half-past six. We have seen the house; we know exactly how it is
constructed. On the ground floor a front room tenanted by Mr. Mortlake,
with two windows giving on the street, both securely bolted; a back room
occupied by the landlady; and a kitchen. Mrs. Drabdump did not leave her
bedroom till half-past six, so that we may be sure all the various doors
and windows have not yet been unfastened; while the season of the year is
a guarantee that nothing had been left open. The front door, through
which Mr. Mortlake has gone out before half-past four, is guarded by the
latch-key lock and the big lock. On the upper floor are two rooms--a
front room used by deceased for a bedroom, and a back room which he used
as a sitting-room. The back room has been left open, with the key inside,
but the window is fastened. The door of the front room is not only locked
but bolted. We have seen the splintered mortice and the staple of the
upper bolt violently forced from the woodwork and resting on the pin. The
windows are bolted, the fasteners being firmly fixed in the catches. The
chimney is too narrow to admit of the passage of even a child. This room,
in fact, is as firmly barred in as if besieged. It has no communication
with any other part of the house. It is as absolutely self-centred and
isolated as if it were a fort in the sea or a log-hut in the forest. Even
if any strange person is in the house, nay, in the very sitting-room of
the deceased, he cannot get into the bedroom, for the house is one built
for the poor, with no communication between the different rooms, so that
separate families, if need be, may inhabit each. Now, however, let us
grant that some person has achieved the miracle of getting into the front
room, first floor, 18 feet from the ground. At half-past six, or
thereabouts, he cuts the throat of the sleeping occupant. How is he then
to get out without attracting the attention of the now roused landlady?
But let us concede him that miracle, too. How is he to go away and yet
leave the doors and windows locked and bolted from within? This is a
degree of miracle at which my credulity must draw the line. No, the room
had been closed all night--there is scarce a trace of fog in it. No one
could get in or out. Finally, murders do not take place without motive.
Robbery and revenge are the only conceivable motives. The deceased had
not an enemy in the world; his money and valuables were left untouched.
Everything was in order. There were no signs of a struggle. The answer,
then, to our second inquiry, Was the deceased killed by another person?
is, that he was not.
"Gentlemen, I am aware that this sounds impossible and contradictory.
But it is the facts that contradict themselves. It seems clear that the
deceased did not commit suicide. It seems equally clear that the deceased
was not murdered. There is nothing for it, therefore, gentlemen, but to
return a verdict tantamount to an acknowledgment of our incompetence to
come to any adequately grounded conviction whatever as to the means or
the manner by which the deceased met his death. It is the most
inexplicable mystery in all my experience." (Sensation.)
The FOREMAN (after a colloquy with Mr. Sandy Sanderson): We are not
agreed, sir. One of the jurors insists on a verdict of "Death from
visitation by the act of God."