THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20193, 1 March 1929, Page 5

THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT.

BY HEAD ON HILL.

A SHORT STORY,,

Inspector Charteris, of New Scotland Yard, detailed tho case for the Crown with his usual lucidity. In the hands of the Attorney-General, prosecuting, the inspector responded liko flint to steel. The young man in the dock watched the performance with increasing nervousness. His fingers picked at his scanty moustache and his feet tied themselves in knots. The prisoner 011 trial was accused of murdering Mr. Weston Radipole, editor of The Daily Scavenger, at the offices of tho newspaper in Fleet Street. Public interest in the case was enhanced by the fact that Victor Tonks, the prisoner, who had fallen into the net of Inspector Charteris some weeks ago, was-the "crime expert" of the great journal. He had been instrumental in fitting a solution to many an intricate problem. Now he was in the dock himself. It was a piquant situation. Mr Justice Lancelot looked over the court from his seat under the Royal Arms. The prisoner, well versed in the lore of the criminal court, anxiously but vainly watched the austere featu-'-s for some flicker of sympathy as witness after witness was examined. " You found the body ot the editor lying on its back in his private room, stabbed to the heart?" asked the Attor-ney-General. " I did," responded the inspector. "Have you the weapon?" " I have sir," the inspector produced a long, wicked-looking paper-knife. In answer to further questions, he stated that ho had been informed that the knife usually rested on the editor's desk. Charteris went on to say that the editor's room adjoined ami could be entered from the room allotted to the principal members of the writing staff. "In that room," proceeded the inspector, " I understand that in addition to the prisoner's desk, there are also those of Walter Anning, who, as well as his duties as assistant editor, conducts a column under tho heading of Social Gossip; and of Robert Armitage, who runs the athletic side of the paper.

lt A young lady also works there ? asked the prosecuting counsel. " Yes, sir," answered the witness, " a Miss Geraldine Chopin, who writes ' The Ladies' Column.' By means of • Answers to Correspondents' she gives advice on beauty topics, posing as a on skin foods and face creams.-

" It was Miss Chopin who discovered the crime?"

" It was, sir." " Thank you, inspector, Call Miss well-dressed girl stepped into the witness-box. Only by the incessant twisting of her tiny handkerchief did s e betray the nervousness underlying her mask of self-control.

She told how she had returned from an engagement to find the outer office empty. She sat down at her desk, wrote her copy, and, as was her custom, took it into the editor's room. She found the body lying on the rug by the fireplace, and, after recovering from shock of the discovery, called the police. " For how iong were you writing'/ asked Mr. Manvers, counsel for the de- " For not more than half-an-hour, answered Miss Chopin. " And during that time you were not disturbed?"-

Armitage, the big, red-faced athleticeditor, was the next witness. " You share your office with tne pnsoner, the last witness, and Mr. Anning ? asked the Attorney-General. " I do," agreed the witness. "And on the day of the murder you were all, with the exception of Miss Chopin, in the room? " Again the witness agreed. " The editor called the prisoner Tonks into his private, office ■" " He rang his bell and I happened to answer it. He told me to send in Tonks." . Answering succeeding questions, Armttage told how Tonks had gone in and, in a few moments, they heard sounds of high words.' The dividing wall, explained the witness, was very thin, being an addition to the original structure of the place. Tonks came out about five minutes later, looking agitated. His dress was also a trifle disarranged. He said nothing, but picked up his hat and walked out. Soon afterwards, Anning and the witness left the office together. " How long afterwards 5 ? " asked defending counsel. . " Almost immediately," answered Armi-

tage. " Were the editor and Tonks on good terms?" " They were not," said the witness. " It was understood that Tonks was under notice to leave." A transient cynical smile flitted across the pale features of the man in the dock. He was thinking that he it was who had spoken the good word and obtained a place for Armitage in the office. Ihe fellow might have allowed someone else to give that damning piece of evidence, In emphatic whispers Manvers urged on the prisoner the necessity of going into the witness-box, but equally strongly Tonks refused. . ~ " It will go very much against you . said Manvers. Tonks set his lips and shrugged bis shoulders. f " I will not," he asserted, " and that s finr.l." The effect of his decision was apparent in the quickly-hushed buzz of low-voiced, excited comment that swept through the court as Manvers rose to make his speech for the defence. The Attorney-General, in reply, marshalled the facts of the evidence in a few concise sentences. When he ended the judge announcd that he would sum up after lunch, rose and disappeared into his room behind the bench. In an instant the great hall was cleared, save for half a dozen .barristers and journalists at tho central table munching the lunch which they had brought. Miss Chopin faded like a ghost into the corridors at tho back of tho court and presently tapped at the private door of the judge's room. Tho old man v.as sitting, head bowed in hands, in a chair at the big table. " Father," cried tho girl," this cannot go Oil." " My child," he said slowly, " we can do nothing." " But, father," she wailed, " you must save him." " Geraldine, I must be judge before I am father." The girl whirled on him with a torrent of words. He was no father of hers, she cried, if he would not save her husband. She raged up and down the ornate room till, her frenzy spent, she flung herself sobbing on a chair, and bowing her head, wept unrestrainedly. Her father, his fine face grey with emotion, laid his slender fingers on her hair. Geraldine caught the hand and began to plead. " Father," she said, " a word from you and those fools in there will set Victor free. Remember, father," she sobbod, "he is the husband of your only child." " Why," he said more to himself than to her, " Why did he do it ?" Geraldine raised a tear-ravaged face from her avnw. "Ho didn't," she said earnestly. " I killed Radipole." " Gerry!" "I- did," she went on hysterically. "He was a beast. He insulted me. Wo fought and I killed him."

(COPYRIGHT.)

In the court all was bustle again. Barristers and officials were hurrying in for tho final scene of the drama that v,-as with them almost an everyday occurrence, to bo taken as a mero matter-of-fact detail. The prisoner was brought back into the dock, guarded by grim-faced warders. The jury filed into their box, and finally the door behind the seat of justice opened and Mr. Justice Lancelot returned to his ; chair. " The old bird's looking a bit peaked," said a junior banister to his neighbour. " Lunch disagreed with him I expect," was the answer. Soon all was ready - and the judge began. " Gentlemen of the jury," he said, " the case against tho prisoner has been ably presented by Attorney-General for the Crown, and the prisoner's defence has been conducted with equal ability by counsel briefed on his behalf. It is now my duty to ljpld the scales between the two and I know I can rely on your impartiality. " The charge is that Victor Tonks murdered Mr. Radipole, the chief editor of the Daily Scavenger, in his private room at the office of thisi_ well-known newspaper. The editor' 3 chief 'assistants were assembled in their workroom adjoining, there being a communicating door. " Suddenly a bell summoned Victor Tonks to the presence of liis chief. .Tie rose from his seat and entered the room. Of what transpired in that room we are assembled here to decide. It has been testified that there was a quarrel, and we know that- there was considerable illfeeling between Tonks and his editor. When Tonks left, tho room he was distraught and it lias been suggested, that his clothing seemed disarranged. No one else, to our knowledge, entered the room of decith. An hour afterwards Miss Chopin went in to find her chief stabbed to the heart with a paper knife from his desk. " She sent for the police, who, alter investigation, arrested Victor Tonks. It is for you to say if they were right. " You will have noticed," went on the judge, " that the prisoner did not exercise his right to enter the witness box, and you will be tempted to draw from that fact a conclusion that would seriously affect your verdict. You must remember, however, that, while* while you are ntitled to let such points are entitled to let such points weigh with you, it is the duty of the prosecution to satisfy you completely, and without semblance of doubt, that the prisoner is guilty. If there is the slightest doubt in your mind that Victor Tonks did commit this very evil murder, you are in duty bound to give him the benefit of the doubt. " it [n „ot sufficient for the prosecution to say that no one else could have killed Radipole. They must bring the crime home to the prisoner. " Now, gentlemen, I "will leave you to your duty. You will take with into your room the knowledge that the life of a fellow creature is in your hands. ' The twelve ijurymen left the court in charge of an "usher. The judge again disappeared into his room. The prisoner was led below by his warders, and all who could leave their seats with the certainty of finding them empty when the climax came, wandered out into the corridors. In the well of the Court, however, safe Geraldine. Her eyes were steadfastly fixed on the door through which the jurymen had gone, and behind which the fata of her husband was being even now decided. None of the chattering crowd, still in the Court, knew her as anyone other than Miss Chopin, tho witness who discovered the body. The secret of her wedding had been well kept. Even the police in their inquiries had failed to trace any connection between the lady journalist, the well-known judge, and their prisoner. The minutes passed into an hour and still she sat gazing at the door. Suddenly there was commotion. The Court officials went back to' their seats, and the prisoner was brought in and stood in the dock to hear his fate. The judge solemnly took his seat. The Clerk of Arraigns rose as the foreman led his fellow-jurvmen into the box. "How say you, sir?" inquired the clerk. " Are you agreed on your verdict?" " We are/" said the foreman. " Do you find tho prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty of flie crime alleged against him ?" " We find him not guilty." The cry of a fainting woman rang above the quick whisper of the court, as the man whose life had been given back to him, turned for the first time during the trial to look at his wife. " And that is the verdict of yc-u all?" asked the clerk. "It is," replied the foreman, "His lordship, you will remember, advised us to give him the benefit of any doubt." " I thank you, sir," said the clerk, and sat down. " Victor Tonks, you are discharged," said tho judge, looking keenly at tho prisoner. Tonks bowed, the warders in charge opened tho door of- the dock and at a sign, from them, the erstwhile prisoner walked out of the court. He was led to a side door, and was just emerging into a little frequented by-way, when a policeman put a note into his hand waited till he had filled his lungs with the air of freedom, which he doubted if he would ever breathe again, before he opened the envelope. It was from Mr. Justice Lancelot, asking him to eall'at the judge's house that evening. Victor smiled a trifle cynically. It was the first communication iie had ever liad from his father-in-law. " Odd," he said to himself, " that it should como when I've just escaped the rope." - . Nevertheless he kept the appointment, to find the judge arid Geraldine in the spacious library at Linden Gardens. The judge greeted him warmly, but Geraldine merely bowed her acknowledgement of his frigid " Good evening." The old man put his hands on' the shoulders of bis son-in-law. " Victor," he said, in a voice that shook with emotion, " you are a brave man. This afternoon you were ready to sacrifice your life, while I hesitated to give up my position." "Give up your position!" echoed Geraldine in surprise. 1 " Yes, dear," said tho judge. " I have failed in my trust. L shall resign my judgeship to-night." A discreet knock on the door preceded the entrance of a man-servant. " A telephono message for your lordship," he said. The judge went out, leaving husbanrf and wife togethei\ « " What do you propose to do now ? asked Geraldine from her seat by the fireplace. . „ "I shall leave England. And you—"lf father ' will permit, I will stay here," she said, turning to look into the flames. , , Victor glanced at the girl who his wife. His hands went, out to her, but he checked the involuntary movement and turned away, to meet his father - in-law hurrying in. . "Gerry! Victor!" he cried breathless. "Inspector Charteris has just rung up to say the police have arrested for drunkenness the husband of the . woman m whose divorce Radipole. was f Both looked in amazement at the change in tho judge's face. It was aimost tiansr,e"i™ ■'hi on, ho has confessed round to his " Why," he gasped, ' I thought, vou—- " And I," screamed Geraldine, as she rushed into his arms, " thought .you " Perhaps," laughed their father, >t would have been better if .von d g>v each other tho benefit of the doubt. J M