TRAGEDY in the VILLAGE

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 269, 13 November 1935, Page 26

TRAGEDY in the VILLAGE

S? by HILDA HINE

CHAPTER lll.—(Continued.) "I will say," remarked Mrs. Deacon, as she brought in the breakfast coffee and poached eggs on a tray, "that Trevartlien air has done you good, Dr. Callington." It was quite true; she would say it, and Dr. Callington was powerless to prevent her doing so at length. When first-he had come to her she had been overawed, but there was 110 human power that could for very long dam the tide of Mrs. Deacon's loquacity. "You're quite right, Mrs. Deacon," he agreed. "it's made a new man of me." "It used to upset me when you came here first," the good woman went 011, "to see you not taking 110 interest in nothing. It isn't natural in a young man." No man over forty, however learned, and however superior to human vanities, has any objection to being called young. Dr. Callington smiled genially. "I think your excellent food must take a share of the praise," he said. "Oh, by the way, I'm expecting Doctor Godhart to call for me soon after breakfast." "I expect he's real pleased to see how you're getting on. lie's a nice gentleman, Doctor Godhart." "The people here like him, don't they?" "Oh, yes. We don't take to foreigners very easy, as you know, doctor, and there's something a bit Frenchified about Doctor Godhart, but he's very nice, and they do say he's very clever, which I'm sure he must be. Doctor Trethcwey was a nice man, too." "He died, didn't he?" "Yes. He never was strong. He was one of these parts, you know. His father was the old squire Trethowey out to Morva. He sent him to college and they thought he would I>e a big man in London, but he was always delicate, so he settled down here."

"What did he die of?" "Gastric." It should be explained that in Trovartlien, gastric is not an adjective, but a noun. It means any pathological condition in which digestive symptoms predominate. "It's a terrible thing that gastric," Mrs. Deacon proceeded. "My Joe went off with it, and 'physicians were in, vain' as the saying goes. We did hope that Doctor Godhart, being a big man from London, he would be able to cure him. But it was 110 good. The Lord gave and the Lord took away. He saved others; himself he could not save. "They do say that the reason why we have so much gastric in these parts is because we drink a lot of tea. And then some say it's salt." She paused, evidently hoping for a considered judgment from Dr. Callington 011 these weighty matters. He, however, was not to be drawn and the conversation was cut short by a sharp knock at the front door. "Now who would that bs?" said Mrs. Deacon. "It's early for Doctor Godhart," said Dr. Callington. Dr. Godhart, however, it was, and a glance at his face revealed that something out of the ordinary had happened. "Sorry to worry you sc early," he said, "but it seems I have a prophetic soul. Old Turpin is dead." "That's remarkable. The threatened apoplectic stroke ?" "No; it's more mysterious. He's been gassed." "Gassed 1" "Yes; found dead in bed last night with all the gas taps on." "Good heavens. Suicide?" "I don't see how it can be. He's a paralytic. I -don't believe it was humanly possible for him to get out of bed and turn 011 the gas. Besides, de mortuis and all that sort of thing, of course, but I can't see old Turpin killing himself. It would give innocent pleasure to too many people." Dr. Callington could not suppress a smile at the jest, though its taste was more than doubtful. "Looks like murder, then." "Uncommonly like it. I was called out b} r telephone last night after you left me. There'll have to be an inquest, of course." "And a post-mortem."

"Do you think so? It seems perfectly clear. The old boy was found passed." "Not so fast. He was found dead in a room full of gas. It doesn't follow tliat he died of gas poisoning." "That's true, of course, if you're going to bo particular." "It's as well to be particular. After all, if we'r.e going to assume what you suggest, it was waste of timo to drap; you out to Boditliiel in the rain. If all they wanted was somebody to say that • the rector was dead an I the room full of gas, the people who found him could say it better than a duly registered medical practitioner. I expect all the gas was gone before you got there." "True. What do you suggest?" "A proper autopsy to discover what lie died of. 'It'sjga. simple matter to discover by the presence or absence of carbon monoxide in the blood whether he died of gas poisoning." "What about getting back to work yourself? It seeins to me there's a murder problem here to bo dealt with, so your rest cure is likely to be turned into a busman's holiday. Will you do the autopsy?" Dr. Cadington l.esitated for a moment. "Yes," he said at length, "if the coroner agrees!"' "That's easily arranged," said Godhart. "I suggest that we ; o along together now and see Miss Crago, then I'll drive you out to Bodithiel and give you the facts as we go along. This thing will be the se:.sation of the place soon, but the news appears not to have got in here yet, and I had the presence of mind not to tell Mrs. Chudleigh."

It is a venerable tradition of the English detective story that the coroner is a pompons ass. In London he has to have the double qualifications of a bar-rister-at-law and a medical practitioner neither of them eaxctly child's play. In the country he is likely to be either a doctor or a solicitor. All these things are quite compatible with pomposity and with foolishness, but one is entitled to wonder whether they are likely to be found in association with it nearly as often as our mystery story writers suggest. If so. the Trevartlien County coroner, whose business it was to investigate the death of the Rev. Lionel Turpin must be set down as Something of an exception.

Mr. Hector Greenwood, or the firm of Greenwood and Gaunter, was an extremely able and cultivated man. Educated, like his father before him, at a public school, he had subsequently done well at King's College, Cambridge, and had carried with him in the unexciting life of a country solicitor a real appreciation of the classics. He saw the importance of what the newspapers were now calling "The Boditliiel Mystery" and intended that the proceedings for which he was responsible, if they did not assist the course of justice, should, at any rate, not impede it. One hesitates to assail two wellestablished traditions in a single chapter, but it has to be confessed that, in the matter of its police services, too, Trevarthen and district had an enviable notoriety. By some mysterious law, the police constable_ of fiction may be a bright and promising young man, but •the sergeant is always a pretentious fool, the local superintendent always sees in a crime a heaven-sent opportunity to make a career, and regards Scotland Yard with contempt and the private investigator with loathing. How it happens that the cultivated gentlemen who administer county affairs betray such a uniformly bad psychology in making their appointments is not explained, but so it appears to be. This book is a faithful and unadorned chronicle of events, and it being the author's business to record what actually occurred rather than what might have been expected to happen, it is a duty to say that Snperintendent Ward was a thoroughly common-sense person. Ho knew of Dr. Callington's record, had read up his cases anc. welcomed his presence in the district. The chief constable of the county had motored up to Trevarthen, had an interview with the superintendent, and decided that there was 110 need to call in Scotland Yard. "As I look at it, sir," the superintendent explained to Dr. Callington, "there's 110 call to worry the folk up in London. This is a mysterious case, if you like, but it's all in a little space. There's 110 call for any of the special things they can do better than we can —fingerprints and the like. All the fingerprints in this part of the country disappear in five minutes because everybody has a finger 111 the pie. I don't say we don't want brains;- we do. But you'll excuse me saying, sir, that we aren't likely to get better brains than yours on it, and all the donkey work can be done by me and Sergeant Blarney." Such was the iocai taient brouglit to bear 011 the IJodithiel tragedy. The .inquest was, beyond all doubt, the greatest event in the history of the village. Everybody who could squeeze himself or herself into the parish hall was there, and the excitement was in-

tense. Formally, of course, a coroner's inquest is an inquiry "011 behalf of our Sovereign Lord the King" into the causes of death. In Boditliiel the inquest was something more human and exciting than that. It was, among other things, a contest between friends and enemies of the Rev. M. Petherick. The foreman of the jury was Mr. Caleb Tambiyn, the headmaster of Boditliiel boy's school. His orientation was unknown. A voracious devourer of detective stories, he cultivated a fine impartiality, and would preserve an inscrutable smile if ask«d to agree tliat| twice two are four, as though- conscious of some qualification which the questioner had overlooked. With him were Ned Hawke, the village cobbler, who, with a rare sense of fitness, was also the village atheist, and an earnest student- of the publications of the nationalist Press Association, and Alfred Eveloigh, who farmed Trencraze. These were the three members of the jury who might be regarded as neutral and open to persuasion uue way or the other by the evidence. Two deacons of Mr. Petherick's chapel—William Trelease and Ishmael Pengelly—were definitely for the pastor, and he could rely 011 the support also of Dick Oliver, a circuit steward of the Wesleyans, Enoch Burrow, the "hired local" of the United Methodists, and Sam Bray tho converted drunkard, much in demand at Band of Hope and Temperance Society gatherings for 20 miles around.

Captain Nancarrow, the vicar's warden, George Bolitho, of independent means, Richard Marshall, the news agent, and Richard Sidey, landlord of the Ring o' Bells, it may reasonably be assumed, were quite prepared to hang Mr. Petherick without trial. The coroner's opening statement was heard with close attention. This was, he said, a particularly distressing occasion even for a coroner's inquest, which could never be considered a pleasant function. The jury had been summoned to investigate the death of one of their fellows who had met with a tragic end. He thought it was not Inappropriate in the circumstances of this inquiry to remind them of the solemn words of the oath they had taken. They were to consider the evidence "without fear, favour or affection, or malice or ill will." No preconceived ideas were to weigh with them. They were not to allow themselves to speculate on whether this, that or the other might have happened or might have been expected to happen, but simply what, on the evidence actually given in Court, appeared to have occurred. "It is probably unnecessary, even at this stage, Mr. Greenwood proceeded, "for me to tell you that evidence may be submitted in this case which will create a strong presumption that the crime of murder has been committed." At these words there passed over the crowded room that tremor which news-1 paper reporters usually describe in parenthesis as "sensation," though it contained nothing for which Bodithiel was not perfectly prepared. "In cases," said the coroner, "where the police have made, or are about to make, an arrest, it has now become customary for the coroner to adjourn the inquest proceedings until after the trial. This court, as some of you know, is not bound by the rules of evidence which govern a court of law. We are permitted to take account of 'hearsay' as it is called, which would be wholly I inadmissible when a man. or woman, is on trial for his, or her life. This has its advantages and also its drawbacks. We are able to arrive at the truth sometimes where it would not be reached by more rigid methods and it is, in general, a good thing that we should know the truth. "On the other, hand, it may sometimes happen that in this way a person, who is subsequently to be tried is prejudiced. Our legal system, more than any other in the world provides for fair play for

an accused person. When a man or woman is about to be arrested for an offence, the law requires that the police officer shall warn that person that he, or she, is not bound to speak and that anything that is said will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidenceat the trial. The same warning is given by the local magistrate when he commits a prisoner to, the Assizes or Quarter Sessions. "Now you, gentlemen of the jury, may, or may not, think that this shows an excessive regard for persons who are suspected of what may be very serious crimes. It is the law and we must respect it. I have consulted the police in this case and I learn they have made no arrest and do not at present contemplate any arrest. There is at this moment, no suspected person in this case." A stamping of feet in applause at this remark was immediately repressed by the coroner. "If there is any further demonstration on the part of the pubjic," he declared sternly, "I shall clear the court. I have decided," he proceeded, "that in all the circumstances there is no reason why the inquest should not go on. We will take first the evidence 6f identification. The Rev. Hanbury Gurney." / (To be continued daily.)