TRAGEDY in the VILLAGE

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 268, 12 November 1935, Page 23

TRAGEDY in the VILLAGE

£* 6Y HILDA HINE

CHAPTER 111. In Church Street the district nurse, a plump, capable woman, received tlie two doctors with a smile. "Well," said. Dr. Godhait, "and how's our refractory patient? This is my colleague, Doctor Callington, who has been good enough to come along with me." "She's had a good enough night," said the nurse. "She went to sleep early in the evening but she seems to have Lad a nightmare. About half-past nine she sat up—l'don't know whether she was awake or not—and gave a shriek that made my blood run cold. Then she ehouted: 'Aggie! Aggie! how could you? . She said that twice and then she was sobbing. It was moat uncanny. I was reading at the time and it was ever so long before I stopped trembling." "How very extraordinary!" said Dr. Godhart. "She >vas dreaming about her cousin Agatha, I supose." Dr. Callington meanwhile was looking at Clio patient, who seemed now to be in a heavy sleep. He held her wrist for a moment, placed his hand on her, neck, and appeared to bo deep in thought. Dr. Godhart had to speak twice to rouse him from Iris reverie.

"What do you think ?" he asked. "My present suggestion is," replied Dr. Callington, "that wo should do nothing." "No sedatives ?" "Why not leave something with nurse ? You're a strong, capable woman," he said, turning to that lady. "If the patient should become violent, which I don't much expect, you can deal with her. Then, if she doesn't subside into a sleep, you can give her a dose of medicine. Don't you agree, Godhart?" "Yes; that's the best way." The two men left together, and on the way to Bodithiel, there being little traffic on the road, Dr. Godhart had an opportunity to put his friend in possession of the facts of the case. The Rev. Lionel Turpin, it seemed, had been found dead in a gas-filled bedroom at nine-thirty on the previous evening. His habits were remarkably regular. He took his one substantial meal of the day about noon. At half-past four he had a light tea, and at half-past nine ho had a glass of hot milk and whisky before Miss White, the housekeeper, retired, which she usually did at about ton o'clock. It was understood that she would not go to his room between tea and hie nightcap, unless summoned by the boll, which, as a matter of fact, she had never been. "There was a disgueting regularity about his habits," Dr. Godhart commented. On this fatal day Dr. Godhart had visited the patient at about half-past ten in the morning, as described the previous night. He had then gone on hie rounds. He had called back at the house just before five and had a cup of tea with Mies White, but had not gone upstairs again. The only visitor during the day had been the dissenting minister, Mr. Petherick. He had called at half-paet three, and there had evidently been a very stormy interview. He was still there when Mies White, punctually at half-past four, in accordance with the Medo-Persian law of the rectory, had

taken up the tea. She had offered the visitor a cup and, as she put it, "had her head bitten off" by both reverend gentlemen at once. The rector had declared that brawlers should not be fed in his house and Mr. Petherick had said something about the tents of the ungodly. A quarter of an hour later the dissenting minister had stamped downstairs, informed Miss White amiably that he was leaving the man of wrath to tho justice of God, and left the house. The next thing, four hours and a half later, was the discovery of the tragedy. "It looks a pretty clear case against the unregistered practitioner in divinity, doesn't it " eaid Callington. "Yes; but it's almost too clear. I'm puzzled. But here we arc. I'll see the local police eergeant and we can arrange about the autopsy. Bodithiel boasts a mortuary." "Have you noted a curious fact!" said Callington. "Very little elee. But which in particular?" "It was at the time that the rector was discovered that Mies Crago cried out in her sleep." . Dr. Godhart turned pale and his colleague thought for a moment that he was going to faint. "My God!" ho ejaculated. This is too uncanny 1" It may seem to tho general reader a little heartless to say that Dr. Callington, as he carried out his gruesome work in the little mortuary, was glad to be back in harness. Yet the pathologist undoubtedly experienced something -of the pleasurable thrill of the craftsman as, under the interested gaze of Dr. Godhart, he proceeded to investigate what the state of the internal organs might have to say about the circumstances in which the Rev. Lionel Turpin met his death. "Have you had much post-mortem experience?" ho asked his colleague. "Never done one in practice." "You'll see here why I suggested that we should test for gas poisoning. There's nothing.here so far that isn't compatible with sudden death in a healthy person—from status lymphaticus, say. The body has quite a lifelike appearance, you'll notice. The internal organs are stained cherry red. There's nothing in the brain to suggest tho paralysis, but that, as you know, is not unusual in cases of hemiplegia. Now, in view of what we know, we'll examine the blood 'for CO. Let me have an enamel basin, will you?" The utensil was produced, and, having filled it with water, Dr. Callington dipped the point of his knife in the blood of the dead rector and stirred up the water to which it immediately imparted an attractive mauve colour, quite different from the tint of normal blood. "As I expected," he commented. .. "That's not conclusive, is it?" said Dr. Godhart. "Not entirely. This would happen with any well oxygenated blood, but you would hardly expect it in the case of our bedridden frieud. I'll make a more precise test at home. If I were in town I should make a van Slyke test, which would give me the precise perceritage of carbon monoxide in the blood. However, there are simpler methods which will give us all we want." "This will thrill a local jury, of course, but I fancy they'll regard it as an elaborate attempt to prove the obvious." "They will be wrong. Suppose we find that there is not sufficient CO to account for death?"

"I don't see how we can." "Think a minute. We know that the deceased was found dead at half-past nine in a gas-lllled room. We don't know how long the gas-had been turned on. Suppose he got out of bed himself, turned on the taps, and got back to bed?" "But he couldn't." "Are you sure?" "Absolutely." "Well, I'm concerned merely with the post-mortem findings. There's nothing in tho state of the corpse to entitle me to say dogmatically that it was a physical impossibility for him to get over to the fireplace and back again. In that case tho exertion and excitement might have killed him. You see the importance of that. It would be a ease of suicide, not murder." "That's so, but I'm open to bet any money that you'll find ho was gassed." "I am entirely of your opinion, but I don't believe in guessing when I can find out. However, let me take a specimen." Producing from his bag a small bottle, with a screw cap, he took a liquid ounce of the blood of the Rev. Lionel Turpin. ''This," he observed, "holds the answer to our question." "We're at the beginning of an extremely interesting case," said Godhart. "I believe wo are. Let's review the facts on the assumption that we find death to have been due to carbon monoxide poisoning. If we rule out the possibility of suicide—and I gather that this is your view—there are two suspects, and, on the evidence before us, only two." "Two?"

"Yes; there's the housekeeper and the Nonconformist parson." "I think we can rule out Miss White. You don't know her, of course, but the thing is absolutely incredible." "That may be, but the evidence of motive is very strong and there was complete opportunity." "That applies equally to Petherick." "Possibly. You must remember, though, that you told me yourself that he's not the murdering sort." "I'd have said so, but of two improbabilities one must choose the lesser." ( "It's too early yet," said Calliiigton, "for anything but the most general speculation, but the presumption as it stands appears to me to be definitely stronger against the housekeeper. Look at the strength of the motive. We knowthat she profits by the rector's death to a very considerable amount. We know —and she knew—that if the rector lived until next week when the solicitor goes to Bodithiel ehe would lose all that." "But, come! You were telling me yesterday how philosophically she was taking it." Godhart looked vexed. "Yes; that's right," he said. "Very good. was there to prevent this woman from going up and turning on the gas? You have to remember, too, that it was common knowledge that Petherick was coming to have a row, and his violent language about Turpin appears to have been tho talk of the place. She has not only tho opportunity, but a heaven-sent chance to throw the suspicion on somebody else." "Good God! But it's incredible. I tell you, Callington, I'm glad you're here. The case as you put it now is just the obvious one that a policeman would see. I'm convinced that A% —Miss White didn't do it, and you're the man to, prove she didn't. Providence hasn't sent you down here to echo the local police." "I never presumo to speculate on the intentions of Providence." said Callington. "I agree with you that cases aren't always what they seem. On the other hand, they usually are. My special line of territory is the exceptional. If this easo is what it seems now to be, my part in it will be limited to giving evidence of the autopsy before the coroner. If there's any reason to suspect that the obvious explanation isn't tho right one. I'm in it up to the neck. You may take it that I shan't help to hang your friend, but I can't promise to become a sort of investigator for the defence. We mustn't make a habit of paradox." "I suppose you're right, but I know Miss White and I'm as sure she didn't murder her employer as I am that you didn't." "Well, we must wait and see. I'll let you know what I find in tho blood." (To be continued daily.)