THE WRONG ROAD

Evening Star, Issue 7473, 17 March 1888, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE WRONG ROAD

BY HOOK OB CROOK.

[By Major Arthur Griffiths, Auruoß of ' Fast and Loose,' 'Locked Up, Etc.] (All Bights Reserved.) VOL. 11.-CHAPTER XXV. BEFORE THE BENCH. The re-examination of the prisoner, Ferdinand Levallois St. Evelyn, as he was charged, was somewhat prolonged. It occupied the whole of one day, not only because the facts were slowly elicited, but because Mr Amos Davis, the prisoner's attorney, fought and contested every point inch by inch. Mr Davis had followed in his father's footsteps as the head of one of the most lucrative of Old Bailey practices, but his talents were those of the advocate, especially as regards cross-examination, and he would assuredly have risen to great eminence at the Bar. The prosecution had been taken up by the Treasury, which was represented as usual by Serjeant Frankfort. They had often met thus in the preliminaries of a great cause ciUbre, and it was little Amos Davis's boast that ho had always held his own against the great Queen's counsel. They met once more in the little sessional court of Market Reepham—a pair of opponents in Btrong contrast; the sharp, ferret-faced solicitor, with his black, restless eyes, and the ponderous, slow-moving, deliberatespeaking barrister, in whose stolid astuteness lay his chief strength. Serjeant Frankfort did not wish, before the magistrates, to prove too much; enough to secure committal, that was all he attempted. Mr Davis, on the other hand, wished the prosecution to show its whole game—the line of attack, the good cards on which it counted, and the way they were to be played. The first witnesses were called to prove the cause of the young baronet's death, tho course his illness ran, the attitude of his relations and others at tho Hall. St. Evelyn's disapproval of Lady Lezaire's resolve to call in medical aid was elicited, although Mr Davis objected, only to be overruled. He objected also, but vainly, to evidence showing St. Evelyn's animus against his poor little brother-in-law; and he defiantly, indeed impudently, bearded the whole Bench when it proposed to listen to Mr Tinson in support of the theory that the Colonel had a deep interest in the young baronet's death. All this was mere surmise, Mr Davis contended scornfully ; vague, unjust innuendo, unsupported conjecture. He was less jaunty when Mr Earswiok, the detective, was put into the box. Thestory now told brought suspicion more closely home to the Colonel. Everyone in courtBench, Bar, audience, poor little Mrs St. Evelyn, with her scared, sorrowful face; even the prisoner, although outwardly stern and impassable—listened with breathless interest to the police officer. The reader knows already what he had to tell. The discovery of the poison-label in various pieces—one in the very chamber of the crime, another in St. Evelyn's private study ; the clue thereby obtained ; its pursuit straight into the chemist's shop at Cleobury. "The rope's round his neck now,' whispered General Wyndham-Parker, with sardonic satisfaction, to a neighbor on the bench, Mr Etherly. Then the poison-book was produced, and the Colonel's signature to the damning entry was sworn to by Mr Tinson. "It's tightening," said the spiteful little General. Mr Gravely was called—a timid, weakkneed witness, but he was positive as to the purchase of the arsenic by Colonel St. Evelyn. «' By the prisoner ?" asked Mr Davis, with a fierce incredulity that shook Mr Gravely instantly. Ye—ye—s ; by Colonel St. Evelyn. By the prisoner, I mean. To the best of my belief, at least." " Your belief ! " Mr Davis looked up at the Bench, and then around the court, eaying, quite plainly, but without words : " What can this poor creature's belief be worth ?" " How did you know him? Did you see his face ?" " Yes—or part of his face ? He wore a large muffler." "Did you hear his voice ?" " Ye—ye—s. I heard his voice. He ■asked me for the arsenic." " How often had you heard him speak before ?" The witness was not sure. " Half-a-dozen times ?" No answer. " Four times—three times—twice—once ? Did you ever hear his voice in your life ? Come, be careful. You are on your oath; your words have a terrible, an awful imKirtance —a man's life depends upon them, ow tell me, on your oath, have yoa ever heard th* prisoner, Colonel St. Evelyn's voice before ? " " Yes, once; once. I am quite certain of that." "And where, pray?" "Here, in this very court. He was on the bench, and he spoke to me " " Was he giving judgment ?" "Yes." " Against whom ? Go on. I insist—the Bench insists—on knowing." " Against me " —in a very low voice. " I was summoned for an infraction of the fatent Medicines Act." " You were found guilty, eh ? And sentenced—to imprisonment ?" " Oh dear, no; only to a fine." "And this is your only ground for recognising the Colonel's voice, or indeed himßelf? That will do, Mr Gravely," said Mr Davis in a voice of deep dejection, as though overwhelmed at the turpitude of this weak fellow-creature. "Not so tight as you imagined, eh, Parker ?" chuckled Mr Etherly. "One moment," interposed Serjeant Frankfort. " You had other reasons, Mr Gravely, I think, for recognising—for being aure—it was Colonel St. Evelyn ?" " I knew him by his coat." Mr Davis and his client interchanged glances. The testimony of the coat, a great point in the case, was to have been reserved at this preliminary examination, "What kind of coat?" " An Inverness, they call it, I think. Of striped plaid, yellow and red; rather ■taring pattern.' " You had seen the Colonel wear it?" "Frequently, when he drove through Cleobury." " I shall call other witnesses to speak to that coat, and the Colonel's fondness for it," said Serjeant Frankfort, but the remark was hardly necessary. Dozens of people on the bench and in the body of the court knew the Colonel's favorite Inverness. ''lt ought to be produced," said Lord Prndfcimes. " The witness should be asked If he reaognises it." "I am afraid, my lord, that is not possible. I hereby give notice to the other side to producs that coat," he said, looking hard at the prisoner, "But it will not be Sat in. We must not, do not, expect it. 'he coat will not be produced, for the simple reason that it has disappeared. Its disappearance is a part, and a strong part, of our case, my lord." Mr Davis exchanged glances with the prisoner, and rose to his feet. "I object moßt distinctly to the line Serjeant Frankfort is pursuing. It is irregular very irregular. The question of the coat is not before the court." " We can easily brint( it before the court. Recall Alfred Earswiok." The detective stepped baok into the box, and was made to tell the story of his search fofthelnremessin the Colonel's dressingroom. . T "You could not find the greatcoat ? No. No one will find that coat, I am pretty well convinced of that. But I give notice to produce it and—and," the serjeant looked leisurely at Mb notes, turning them over Sage by page—" and-the Colonel s private It was a home thrust, suddenly and unexdiarj?"'asked Mr Davisblankly. •" I am at ft loss to understand—-" m " Yon cannot deny the diaijy, Mr Davis. Its existence will be sworn to.' Earswiok wm recalled, and deßCribed his jecond visit to the Colonel's stndy the morn-

ing after he had overhauled the wardrobe upstairs." " What was your object?" asked the serjeant. "I was looking for some clue to the Colonel's daily movements." " And did you come upon any ?" " Well, yes ; what I wanted was there— I am sure of that. But I was not able to investigate it thoroughly. Gibbings came in and found me with a book in my hand. We had words, and I had to give the book up." " What was the book ? Do you remember ?" " Perfectly the Colonel's diary. I opened it and read several entries bearing, I think, upon the case—about his journeys and what he did. I caught the word Cleobury, I think " " Aha ! That will do for the present. The serjeant looked at the Bench. "You know now, my lord, why the production of the diary is important." " It shall be produced," said Amos Davis quietly, but with a tinge of uneasiness. He had been whispering to his client during the last few minutes, and the answer had been evidently prompted by the Colonel. _ The lawyer was not satisfied that it was wise to yield the point. He had experience of diaries read in open court, and knew how embarrassing the entries often proved. The case for the prosecution was now closed, and Serjeant Frankfort, in a forcible speech, told the Bench it was their bounden duty to commit the prisoner for trial at the coming assizes. "One word, my lord," said Mr Amos Davis, rising, and holding a small volume in his hand, the leaves of which he had been turning over and reading with close attention. " The learned serjeant has expressed a wish that my client's private diary should be put in." " Yes, if it can be found," said Serjeant Frankfort, with a sneer. " My client has every desire to further the ends of j ustice, and, as 1 egards the diary, is fortunately able to comply with the request of the other side. It is here. We sent for it directly the question was raised." " May I see it ?" asked the serjeant, putting out his hand. " It is for the information and satisfaction of the court, to whom I now surrender it," said Mr Davis, quite ignoring his opponent. "I give it up to you, my lord, bnt I beg that it may be at once sealed with the seal of the court, and safely kept till required." "Do you produce the Inverness also?" asked the serjeant, determined to have the last word. But Mr Davis did not choose to reply. " You have nothing more to say ?" asked Lord Prudhames. And then he whispered a word to the magistrate on each side of his chair; the message passed both M-ays along the Bench, and was answered by affirmaiive nods. "Colonel St. Evelyn"—the chairman now addressed the prisoner—" it does not beseem me, nor does your present deeply painful position call for any remarks from the Bench. I have only to inform you, in the briefest and most formal manner, that we think a sufficient case has been made out to warrant your full committal for trial. Let the prisoner be removed." Tho governor of the gaol stepped forward, and with a look of infinite distress upon his hard, weather-beaten old face, offered his patron an arm. "No, thank you. Go first —I will follow. You need not fear. I shall not try to run away." And the Colonel, with a nod to the Bench, and a half smile, walked out, upright and unconcerned. There was a slight attempt at a cheer among the throng in the body of the court and outside. The Colonel was not unpopular with the people; he .was a sportsman, and had kept money moving about Straddlethorpe. Besides, Gibbings was there, and the mob followed his lead when he characterised the whole prosecution as a dirty plot that was bound to recoil on those —" I won't mention names, but a nod's as good as a wink—it'll all come back, I say, on those who planned it." On the bench, opinions were decidedly hostile to St Evelyn. Only old Etherly and one or two more still doubted. " That man is not guilty. I have watched every move on his face," said old Etherly. "Bah! He has nerves of iron," replied the General spitefully. " Besides, looks don't prove innocence." "He'll slip through your fingers yet, General," said the first speaker. " Don't you believe he did it?" retorted the General, turning sharply on his brothermagistrate. " I do not believe he did. What is more, I do not believe that any Market Reepham jury will convict him on such evidence as we have had to-day." " There will be a grave miscarriage of justice, and it will be a disgrace to the whole country." " It would be so if we hanged an innocent man." " Stuff and nonsense ! But come, let me ask you one question—if he didn't murder the lad, who did ?" "If that's your only line of argument, your case must be weak indeed," said Mr Etherly. CHAPTER XXVI. MARKET REEPHAM ASSIZES. The summer Assizes were held at Market Reopham some six weeks later. Her Majesty's Judges were received with something of old-fashionedpomp and circumstance in this respectable city. The High Sheriff, in a brand-new uniform, met them in a state carriage with lackeys in blue and silver, and the procession from the station to the Judges' lodging was escorted by tipstaves and javelin-men in quaint, ancient costumes. The Judge who presided in the criminnl court had never come to the Thorpeshire Circuit before, and he told the grand jury at the opening of the Assize that their attendance in such numbers to discharge their public duties was an honor to the county, and might be held up as an example to the local magistracy everywhere. He hoped as many as found it convenient would dine with him at his lodgings that night. But the Thorpeshire magnates had not come to be asked to dinner; nor was it purely public spirit that crowded the grandjury box that Assize. They had come to hear the great cause ciUbre, to take their part in the proceedings, and when they had found a true bill, as was inevitable, to see how St. Evelyn behaved. The court was densely packed with people; all the galleries, every inch of standing-room in the body of the court. In the former were several ladies—great ones too. A duchess and leader of fashion had come down from London on purpose, seeking a new sensation in watching narrowly the demeanor of a man she knew when being tried for his life. Compared to hers, the motives—bitter hatred and consuming thirst for vengeance —that brought Lady Lezaire were legitimate, or at last excusable. Colonel St. Evelyn bore his position with the same easy self-possessed air he had shown at his first examination. He looked slowly round the court when first brought into the dock, noting who was present, with now a half smile, now a whole sneer, as his eye rested on each in tnrn. With Lady Lezaire he exchanged fierce glances; he gave the duchess a pleasant off-hand nod which quite disconcerted her. The trial followed its usual course. St. Evelyn, on arraignment, pleaded " Not guilty " in a firm voice, which had its effect on all present. But Serjeant Frankfort's opening, setting forth the whole of the facts—circumstantial in the main, but supported by certain tangible evidence—soon removed any impression favorable to the prisoner. The case looked more black against him as it proceeded. Witness after witness was called to give the testimony already reported in the preceding chapter. The prisoner's counsel was a Mr Harry Blackstone, a very jaunty young barrister, with a rising reputation on circuit; aioundfaced,, rosy-cheeked, smiling, good-tempered man, who was soon on excellent terms with the jury. His habit was to treat matters lightly, as though the .charge was all a mistake, the indiotment a mere joke $ and this system served him well in £he present case. His line in cross-examination was ridicule, He made great fun of Earswick the detective, and his disguises. "You called yourself a lawyer's clerk,

eh ? And dressed the part ? Have you ever been on the stage ?" "No." " Were you brought up ,to anything—before you took to the police ?" "Medicine." " Oho ! The blue paper and the poisonlabel was all in your line then. At a chemist's ? Or, I beg your pardon, at the Veterinary College ?" " No ; at St. Bartholomew's." " But you never took your diploma?" "Pardon me, I did." " And you'd rather be a detective than a doctor? Curious preference that. Think you have a special talent for investigation, perhaps ?" " I like the solution of problems, I confess." "Hence the very ingenious theory you have started in this case. Pleasant practice, constructing theories which may cost a fellow-creature his life. That will do, Mr Earswick." And for the first time the police officer felt crestfallen and dissatisfied with the part he had played. The great card with the prosecution, however, was Mr Gravely, the chemist. The purchase of the poison was its strong point, and everything depended upon the identification of the accused. Mr Tinson spoke first to the signature in the poison-book. It was compared with other authenticated signatures, and then an expert was called in corroboration. " The handwriting is the same—to the best of my belief," said the expert, with some qualification. " Cannot you speak quite positively ?" "No. It is probably the same, more than probably—but not, in my opinion, certainly—the same." " Thank you," said Mr Blackstone, with a grateful laugh. "That will do. I shall not cross-examine you." With Mr Gravely he was very different. "Are you fond of music ?" he asked quite abruptly. "M' lud, I really must protest " began Serjeant Frankfort. " I crave your patience, in' lud," retorted Mr Blackstone, and again he turned to the witness. " What instrument do you play ? The piano, hautboy, Jew's harp, or do you only whistle? Coire!" "I don't understand, sir," faltered Mr Gravely. " Answer me. Are you a good musician ? Have you a good ear for music ? " " I don't know any music." "You have no ear?" "No ear for music, sir. lam hot very quick of hearing, indeed." " Have you a good memorv ?" " Yes, I think so." "For faces?" " Well, I'm not so sure, sir." "How often have you seen Colonel St. Evelyn? Once?" "Twice, sir." "The first time?" " On the bench ; the second, in my shop." "\ou remembered him, then—you can swear to that? After dark—a man you had only seen once before." "I thought I recognised him. I knew his coat." " You are not perfectly sure ?" "As sure as I could be of anything. He said he was Colonel St. Evelyn, too." " He might have mid he was the Duke of Wellington, or the Pope of Rome. What I want to know is, whom do you say he was?" " I thought it was Colonel St. Evelyn, sir. I did indeed." And that was all Mr Blackstone could extract from tho witness. Yet the impression left was certainly one of doubt. Mr Gravely was hardly positive as to the identity of the purchaser of the poison. " Well, now, let me try this famous memory of yours another way. The occasion on which you sold this arsenic is, I hope, fresh in your memory ?" "Perfectly." " And exactly the time of sole ? Do you remember that 1 " " Pretty exactly. It was towards evening." "After dark?" " No, only dusk ; about seven o'clock." " Not later ; are you sure ? ' "It would be about seven, I had had my tea." "" You must be very particular about this. The exact time I must have, to a moment, if possible." " It was seven, sir, I am quite sure." " Well, I will take you word for it, and I hope his lordship and the gentlemen of the jury will do the same. Your accuracy in this respect may be of very considerable importance, Mr Gravely. That will do for the present." The remainder of the prosecution dealt with other evidence—the negative evidence, so to speak, of damaging conjecture rather than fact. The samples of horse medicine prescribed by the Colonel were produced, and the chemical analysis, which distinctly contradicted any pretence that arsenic was an ingredient. If St. Evelyn used the drug in his medicaments, it was not for his own horses. Again testimony was adduced to emphasise tho absence of the Inverness. What had become of it ? Let the defence produce it, or say where it had gone. Failing this, only one inference was possible—namely, that it had been intentionally made away with. (Tobe continued.)