IN THE MAGISTRATE'S COURT
Never before in history had the dingy little street, in which North
Lambeth Police Court stands, witnessed such scenes as were presented on
that memorable 4th of December, when counsel for the Crown opened the
case against Colonel Dan Boundary.
Long before the building was open the precincts of the court were
besieged by people anxious to secure one of the very few seats which
were available for the public. By nine o'clock it became necessary to
summon a special force of police to clear a way for the numerous
motor-cars which came bowling from every point of the compass and which
were afterwards parked in the narrow side streets, to the intense
amazement and interest of the curious denizens of the unsavoury
neighbourhood in which the court is located.
Admission was by ticket. Even the reporters, those favoured servants of
democracy, had need to produce a printed pass before the scrutinising
policeman at the door allowed them to enter. Every available seat had
been allotted. Even the magistrate's sacristy had been invaded, and
chairs stood three-deep to left and right of him.
There were some who came out of sheer morbid curiosity, in order that
they might boast that they were present when this remarkable case was
heard. There were others who came, inwardly quaking at the revelations
which were promised or hinted at in the daily Press, for the influence
which the Boundary gang exercised was wide and far-reaching.
A young man stood upon the congested pavement, watching with evident
impatience the arrival of belated cars. The magistrate had already come
and had disappeared behind the slate-coloured gates which led to the
courtyard. Stafford saw fashionably-dressed women and (with a smile)
worried-looking men who were figures in the political and social world,
and presently he involuntarily stepped forward into the roadway as
though to meet the electric limousine which came noiselessly to the main
entrance.
The solitary occupant of the car was a man of sixty--a grey-haired
gentleman of medium height, dressed with scrupulous care, and wearing on
his clean-shaven face a perpetual smile, as though life were an
amusement which never palled.
Stafford King took the extended hand with a little twinkle in his eye.
"I was afraid we shouldn't be able to keep your place for you, Sir
Stanley," he said.
Sir Stanley Belcom, First Commissioner of Criminal Intelligence,
accentuated his smile.
"Well, Stafford," he drawled, "I've come to see the culminating triumph
of your official career."
Stafford King made a little grimace.
"I hope so," he said dryly.
"I hope so, too," said the baronet, "yet--I'll tell you frankly,
Stafford, I have a feeling that the ordinary processes of the law are
inadequate to trap this organisation. The law has too wide a mesh to
deal with the terror which this man exercises. Such men are the only
justification of lynch law, the quick, sharp justice which is
administered without subtlety and without quibble."
Stafford looked at the other and made no attempt to hide his
astonishment.
"You believe in--the Jack o' Judgment?" he asked.
Sir Stanley shot a swift glance at him.
"That is the bugbear of the gang, isn't it?"
"So Hanson says," replied the other. "I verily believe that Hanson is
more afraid of that mysterious person than he is of Boundary himself."
The Attorney-General had begun his opening speech when the two men made
their way into the crowded court and found their seats at the end of
the solicitors table.
In the dock sat Colonel Boundary, the least concerned of all that
assembly. The colonel was leaning forward, his arms resting on the
rails, his chin on the back of his hairy hand, his eyes glued upon the
grey-haired lawyer who was dispassionately opening the case.
"The contention of the Crown," the Attorney-General was saying, "is that
Colonel Boundary is at the head of a huge blackmailing organisation, and
that in the course of the past twenty years, by such means as I shall
suggest and as the principal witness for the Crown will tell you, he has
built up his criminal practice until he now controls the most complex
and the most iniquitous organisation that has been known in the long and
sordid history of crime.
"Your Worship will doubtless hear," he went on, "of a bizarre and
fantastic figure which flits through the pages of this story, a
mysterious somebody who is called the 'Jack.' But I shall ask your
Worship, as I shall ask the jury, when this case reaches, as it must
reach ultimately, the Central Criminal Court, to disregard this
apparition, which displayed no part in bringing Boundary to justice.
"The contention of the Crown is, as I say, that Boundary, by means of
terrorisation and blackmail, through the medium and assistance of his
creatures, has from time to time secured a hold over rich and foolish
men and women, and from these has acquired the enormous wealth which is
now his and his associates'. As to these latter, their prosecution
depends very largely upon the fate of Boundary. There are, I believe,
some of them in court at this moment, and though they are not arrested,
it will be no news to them to learn that they are under police
observation."
"Swell" Crewe, sitting at the back of the court, shifted uneasily and,
turning his head, he met the careless gaze of the tall, military-looking
man who had "detective" written all over him.
There had been a pause in the Attorney-General's speech whilst he
examined, short-sightedly, the notes before him.
"In the presentation of this case, your Worship," he went on, "the Crown
is in somewhat of a dilemma. We have secured one important and, I think,
convincing witness--a man who has been closely associated with the
prisoner, a Scandinavian named Hanson, who, considering himself badly
treated by this gang, has been for a long time secretly getting together
evidence of an incriminating character. As to his object we need not
inquire. There is a possibility suggested by my learned friend, the
counsel for the defence, that Hanson intended blackmailing the
blackmailers, and presenting such a weight of evidence against Boundary
that he could do no less than pay handsomely for his confederate's
silence. That is as may be. The main fact is that Hanson has accumulated
this documentary evidence, and that that documentary evidence is in
existence in certain secret hiding-places in this country, which will be
revealed in the course of his examination.
"We are at this disadvantage, that Hanson has not yet made anything but
the most scanty of statements. Fearing for his life, since this gang
will stick at nothing, he has been closely guarded by the police from
the moment he made his preliminary statement. Every effort which has
been made to induce him to commit his revelations to writing has been in
vain, and we are compelled to take what is practically his affidavit in
open court."
"Do I understand," interrupted the magistrate, in that weary tone which
is the prerogative of magistrates, "that you are not as yet in
possession of the evidence on which I am to be asked to commit the
prisoner to the Old Bailey?"
"That is so, your Worship," said the counsel. "All we could procure from
Hanson was the bald affidavit which was necessary to secure the man's
arrest."
"So that if anything happened to your witness, there would be no case
for the Crown?"
The Attorney-General nodded.
"Those are exactly the circumstances, your Worship," he said, "and that
is why we have been careful to keep our witness in security. The man is
in a highly nervous condition, and we have been obliged to humour him.
But I do not think your Worship need have any apprehension as to the
evidence which will be produced to-day, or that there will not be
sufficient to justify a committal."
"I see," said the magistrate.
Sir Stanley turned to Stafford and whispered:
"Rather a queer proceeding."
Stafford nodded.
"It is the only thing we could do," he said. "Hanson refused to speak
until he was in court--until, as he said, he saw Boundary under arrest."
"Does Boundary know this?"
"I suppose so," replied Stafford with a little smile, "he knows
everything. He has a whole army of spies. Sir Stanley, you don't know
how big this organisation is. He has roped in everybody. He has Members
of Parliament, he has the best lawyers in London, and two of the big
detective agencies are engaged exclusively on his work."
Sir Stanley pursed his lips thoughtfully and turned his attention to the
prosecuting counsel. The address was not a long one, and presently the
Attorney-General sat down, to be followed by a leading member of the
Bar, retained for the defence. Presently he too had finished, and again
the Attorney-General rose.
"Call Olaf Hanson," he said, and there was a stir of excitement.
The door leading to the cells opened, and two tall detectives came
through, and two others followed. In the midst of the four walked the
short, grey-faced man, in whose hands was the fate, and indeed the life,
of Colonel Dan Boundary.
He did not as much as glance at the dock, but hurried across the floor
of the court and was ushered to the witness stand, his four guardians
disposing themselves behind and before him. The man seemed on the point
of crumbling. His fear-full eyes ranged the court, always avoiding the
gross figure in the railed dock. The lips of the witness were white and
trembling. The hands which clutched the front of the box for support
twitched spasmodically.
"Your name is Olaf Hanson?" asked the Attorney-General soothingly.
The witness tried to speak but his lips emitted no sound. He nodded.
"You are a native of Christiania?"
Again Hanson nodded.
"You must speak out," said Counsel kindly, "and you need have no fear.
How long have you known Colonel Boundary?"
This time Hanson found his voice.
"For ten years," he said huskily.
An usher came forward from the press at the back of the court with a
glass of water and handed it to the witness, who drank eagerly. Counsel
waited until he had drained the glass before he spoke again.
"You have in your possession certain documentary evidence convicting
Colonel Boundary of certain malpractices?"
"Yes," said the witness.
"You have promised the police that you will reveal in court where those
documents have been stored?"
"Yes," said Hanson again.
"Will you tell the court now, in order that the police may lose as
little time as possible, where you have hidden that evidence?"
Colonel Boundary was showing the first signs of interest he had evinced
in the proceedings. He leaned forward, his head craned round as though
endeavouring to catch the eye of the witness.
Hanson was speaking, and speaking with difficulty.
"I haf--put those papers,"--he stopped and swayed--"I haf put those
papers----" he began again, and then, without a second's warning, he
fell limply forward.
"I am afraid he has fainted," said the magistrate.
Detectives were crowding round the witness, and had lifted him from the
witness stand. One said something hurriedly, and Stafford King left his
seat. He was bending over the prostrate figure, tearing open the collar
from his throat, and presently was joined by the police surgeon, who was
in court. There was a little whispered consultation, and then Stafford
King straightened himself up and his face was pale and hard.
"I regret to inform your Worship," he said, "that the witness is dead."