IT HAPPENED TWICE.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 61, Issue 38, 25 November 1940, Page 7

IT HAPPENED TWICE.

CHAPTER VIII

A “FISHING” INQUEST.

John Arkwright was waiting, tensely erect, in the little gun room of Oroombe Royal. He stepped forward as Peggy came in, and took both her hands. “Peggy, I had to see. you before the inquest.” His deep voice vibrated slightly and his eyes were lull of anxiety . “I want to beg you, whatever happens, not to let it get you down.”

“You mean that they may even suspect me.” i “It’s no use mincing matters. That’s just what I do mean, and I came to warn you. But remember this. Meakin and I and the staff here, all the people who know you, believe in you.” - “I. shan’t forget it,” Peggy said. “And —• and it does help.” Arkwright looked at,,her and wondered to see her so calm and composed.

“If I could only have saved you this ordeal,” he burst out. She smiled up at him.

I know. But you have your duty to do. Don’t worry about it. The truth will come out.” Admiration glowed in Arkwright’s eyes. “You’re wonderful, Peggy. Yes, somehow 'we shall get at the trutji. Now I must go. I have a lot to do before the incpiest. It will be at eleven, but that you know.” The inquest "was held in what was called the Gamesi Room. This had once been a granary but had been fitted up by (Mrs Trelawney’s husband for the staff to play games such as table tennis and darts. It was a big, airy and welllighted 4 room above the garage.

Large as it was, it was crowded long before tlie inquest was due to begin. Punctually at 11 o’clock the Coroner came in. He was Mr Sidney Sturrock who lived just outside Taverton, a middle-sized man between fifty and sixty. He had a high forehead, thin greying hair, 'a straight nose, and a quiet, self-contained manner. Mr Meakin was present, and with him was his son, Gerald, the Home Office expert. Gerald was a big, handsome young man with a strong face and a mop of curly brown hair. His father had. telephoned for him. The hum of talk died down as Mr Sturrock came to his feet, and gave a brief account of Mrs Trelawney’s illness and death.

Arkwright was called as the first witness.

He told of visiting Mrs Trelawney just after the storm. “You gave a prescription to be made up?”“I did. It was sodium-phenyl-barbi-tone, commonly called Luminol. This drug is usually siipplied in tablet but Mrs Trelawney was unable to swallow tablets. That is the reason why I had it made up as a liquid.” “You gave the prescription to Miss Garland?” “That is so.”

“Wo will now pass on to the next morning. You were called early to Coombe Royal.”

“It was about seven o’clock. Vincent, Mrs Trelawney’s chauffeur, came for me with the cgr. He explained that they had tried to ring me up but that the wire was down, broken in the storm. I came at once and found Mrs Trelawney in a state of < coma from which it was impossible to rouse her. She died an hour later.”

“You formed the opinion that she had been poisoned ?”• “I did. And the autopsy confirmed that opinion.” “She was poisoned by luminol?” “By that or some similar narcotic. My opinion is confirmed by that of Mr perald Meakin.” He offered, the further opinion that the amount administered was not large. It would amount perhaps to double the dose prescribed. He could see no other possible cause for the condition in which he found Mrs Trelawney, but it must be remembered that her heart was weak, that her blood-pressure was dangerously high, and that she would therefore bo seriously affected by a dose which would not prove fatal to a person in good health.

Peggy followed Dr. Arkwright. She was dressed in black which set off ihe extreme fairness of her skin. She seemed completely calm and composed.

Everyone craned forward to look r.t her for whisperers had been at work already. Yet Peggy was conscious that many of the people were friendly towards 'her.

When she began to speak her voice was low but so clear that every word could be heard all ov'er ’the big room. She told of the storm and of hastening homo find her story was precisely the same that Arkwright had already told. Then the Coroner began to question her.

Answering his inquiries sho said that Rose Weller took the prescription into Nothorcombe and Mr Perkins made it up. The medicine was not to bo given until the evening, and she, Peggy, gave the dose.

'Hie bottle was one of those with lines upon it/showing the number of doses. She measured the amount very carefully knowing that barbitone preparations are poisonous. She put the glass to the patient’s lips but Mrs Trelawney took the glass and drank it herself. “Did she make any remark?’’

“No, but she screwed up iter lips as if she did not like it, and I gave her a glass of plain water of which she drank a little.’,’ The milk food was mentioned and Peggy agreed that she prepared that. “Then no one but yourself gave Mrs Trelawney food or drink on that last night of her life?” “No,” began Peggy then checked. “I was forgetting. Mr Edgar Trelawney gave her a glass of wiiie.” Whispered comment rippled through the room. People looked round for Edgar but lie was not there.

UNANIMOUS VERDICT. “It was a light white wine of which she was fond,’’ said Foggy in answer to another question. “There was a decanter in Mrs Trelawney’s room. But this was empty so Mr Trelawney took

By T. C. BRIDGES. :: (Copyright). A Story of Mystery and Poison.

the decanter down and refilled it. He came back quickly, poured out a glass and gave it to his mother.” Mr Sturrock took off his glasses, polished them with a silk handkerchief, then continued his questions. The answers tqld how the decanter was broken when the bedside table was upset, along with everything on the table, including the bottle of luminol. “Most unfortunate,” said Mr Sturrock. f'Will you now tell me at what hour on that night you last saw Mrs Trelawney—’ ’

“About half past ten. I went into her room last thing before I went to bed and found her sleeping. I did not sit up with her because Dr. Arkwright had told me that there was no need to do so.” “Wo come to the next morning—yesterday morning.’ ’ Peggy told how Rose had called her, how frightened the girl was and of the state in which she had found her employer. She related how she had used the amyl without result and of sending the car for Dr. Arkwright. “One more question, Miss Garland,” said the Coroner. “You are definitely certain you gave the correct dose?” “I am certain,” Peggy said firmly.

Arkwright sighed with relief as Peggy finished her evidence. He could sense the favourable impression she had produced. Ho hoped devoutly nothing would'occur to upset it. Now Rose Weller was called and what she said confirmed Peggy’s story in every detail. Her evidence took only a few minutes, then Charles Perkins was summoned.

Arkwright, who, of course, knew Perkins well, was shocked at his appearance. Perkins was always delicate, but now 'lie looked really ill. The unfortunate man was trembling from head to foot. Facing a crowd like this was too much for him.

“You must speak up, please, Mr Perkins,” said the Coroner kindly after his first answer. “I have only a very few questions to ask you.” Perkin’s bony hands were clutching the hack of the chair behind which he stood as he stammered out his evidence. Ho had no difficulty in reading the prescription, and he made it up according to directions. Oh the last point he answered confidently.

Again the audience craned their necks Ss Edgar Trelawney came . in. Most of them knew, him by sight; all knew him by ''repute. Edgar wore a dark suit with a black tie and a black band round liis sleeve. Ho looked well and his expression was well controlled grave but not too solemn as he acknowledged the Coroner’s sympathetic references to his loss.

“The first question related to the wine he gave. to his mother. Could ho be quite sure it had not been tampered with in any way? 5 ’ “Perfectly certain,” Edgar replied. “The decanter being empty, I went down to the dining room, and took a fresh bottle from the cellaret. Martin, our butler, was in the room and he pulled the cork for me and poured the wine into the decanter. 1 took it straight upstairs.” Mr Sturrock nodded.

“You gave nothing .else to your mother, Mr Trelawney?” “Nothing whatever. I did not go up again because I understood from Miss Garland that my mother would bo asleep. So far as I can gather, no one but Miss Garland entered my mother’s room that Tuesday evening, or gave her food or drink.”- There wasa slight stir. in. the quiet room.' Mr Sturrock leaned forward. “You seem to. be laying the blame for what has happened upon Miss Garland, 'Mr Trelawney,” he said in hi? quiet voice. Edgar shrugged.

“Miss Garland has been companion to my mother for three years. Her serviced were greatly appreciated both by my mother and myself. The proof is that I recommended my mother to leave her a legacy, ana this sho did. I say this to make it plain that I have no feeling whatever against .Miss Garland.-What I suggest is that Miss Garland made a mistake in measuring the dose she gave my mother.” The room became so silent that' the chatter of two sparrows fighting in the yard outside could bo plainly heard. Arkwright turned to Gerald Meakin, who sat beside him.

“The swine!” he whispered. “I believe lie’s trying to save his own dirty skin.”

‘A legacy,” the Coroner repeated slowly. “Was the amount important?” “I suggested two hundred pounds a year,” Edgar answered. “And was Miss Garland aware of this bequest?” “I believe that my mother told her of it.” Again Mr Sturrock took off his glasses and polished them. “Thank you, Mr Trelawney,” he said in a formal tone. “Wo will not trouble you further.” “Sturrock doesn’t like him any better than wo do,” Gerald whispered back to Arkwright, but Arkwright shook his head.

“This is awful,” he said. “I never heard of this infernal legacy.” He paused a moment. “I suppose it goes to tho jury now.” “Wait!” said Gerald. “There’s another witness.”

Seregant Caunter was called. He wasa big man of about forty, quiet, slowspeaking, competent. He had lived and --worked in Devonshire all his life. His story began when he had been called in on Tuesday morning. Vincent had fetched him and ho had reached the house within about an hour of Mrs Trelawney’s death. “You made an investigation?” the Coroner asked.

“Dr. Arkwright gave me the details, sir; then I. questioned 'Miss Garland and Roso Weller.- I asked specially about the table being upset. That, it seems, was done by Mr Trelawney, wbo knocked against it accidentally. I asked for pieces of broken glass, but they had been already cleared away and thrown into the dustbin. 1 went to the dustbin but cof!hJ recover nothing of any value for the purpose of this inves-

} tigation.” Ho paused. “Most unfortunate,” murmured Mr Sturrock. ‘‘Have you anything else to tell us, Sergeant?” “Yes', sir. I searched the house to make sure there was no other supply of the drug or poison which killed Mrs Trelawney. In the guest room near the head of the stairs I found this.” He held up a. small bottle half full of a brownish liquid. “It was at the back\ of a small drawer in a bureau. The bureau is one of those old-fashioned pieces made of teak. The front lets down to form a writing table and there are three small drawers' on either side. This bottle was pushed pn at the back of one of the drawers and was wrapped in a piece of newspaper. Tt was only by chance I found it.” ‘And what are the contents?” the Coroner asked. Again the room was tensely silent. All eyes were on the big policeman. “I had the contents analysed, sir, by Mr Dobell, the chemist at Taverton. It is a. preparation of opium well known to the police, and commonly called knock-out-drops.”

(To be continued).

The characters in this story are entirely imaginary. No reference is intended to any living person or to any public or private company.