MYERS. When did you first see the prisoner, Leonard Vole?
JANET. He came to the house, I mind, at the end of August.
MYERS. How often did he come to the house?
JANET. To begin with once a week, but later it was oftener. Two and even three times he’d come. He’d sit there flattering her, telling her how young she looked and noticing any new clothes she was wearing.
MYERS. (Rather hastily) Quite, quite. Now will you tell the Jury in your own words, Miss MacKenzie, about the events of October the fourteenth.
JANET. It was a Friday and my night out. I was going round to see some friends of mine in Glenister Road, which is not above three minutes’ walk. I left the house at half past seven. I’d promised to take my friend the pattern of a knitted cardigan that she’d admired. When I got there I found I’d left it behind, so after supper I said I’d slip back to the house at twenty-five past nine. I let myself in with my key and went upstairs to my room. As I passed the sitting-room door I heard the prisoner in there talking to Miss French.
MYERS. You were sure it was the prisoner you heard?
JANET. Aye, I know his voice well enough. With him calling so often. An agreeable voice it was, I’ll not say it wasn’t. Talking and laughing they were. But it was no business of mine so I went up and fetched the pattern, came down and let myself out and went back to my friend.
MYERS. Now I want these times very exact. You say that you re-entered the house at twenty-five past nine.
JANET. Aye. It was just after twenty past nine when I left Clenister Road.
MYERS. How do you know that, Miss MacKenzie?
JANET. By the clock on my friend’s mantelpiece, and I compared it with my watch and the time was the same.
MYERS. You say it takes three or four minutes to walk to the house, so that you entered the house at twenty-five minutes past nine, and you were there . . .
JANET. I was there under ten minutes. It took me a few minutes to search for the pattern as I wasna’ sure where I’d left it.
MYERS. And what did you do next?
JANET. I went back to my friend in Glenister Road. She was delighted with the pattern, simply delighted. I stayed there until twenty to eleven, then I said good night to them and came home. I went into the sitting-room then to see if the mistress wanted anything before she went to bed.
MYERS. What did you see?
JANET. She was there on the floor, poor body, her head beaten in. And all the drawers of the bureau out on the ground, everything tossed hither and thither, the broken vase on the floor and the curtains flying in the wind.
MYERS. What did you do?
JANET. I rang the police.
MYERS. Did you really think that a burglary had occurred?
SIR WILFRID. (Jumping up) Really, my lord, I must protest. (He sits.)
JUDGE. I will not allow that question to be answered, Mr. Myers. It should not have been put to the witness.
MYERS. Then let me ask you this, Miss MacKenzie. What did you do after you had telephoned the police?
JANET. I searched the house.
MYERS. What for?
JANET. For an intruder.
MYERS. Did you find one?
JANET. I did not. Nor any signs of disturbance save in the sitting-room.
MYERS. How much did you know about the prisoner, Leonard Vole?
JANET. I knew that he needed money.
MYERS. Did he ask Miss French for money?
JANET. He was too clever for that.
MYERS. Did he help Miss French with her business affairs—with her income tax returns, for instance?
JANET. Aye—not that there was any need of it.
MYERS. What do you mean by not any need of it?
JANET. Miss French had a good, clear head for business.
MYERS. Were you aware of what arrangements Miss French had made for the disposal of her money in the event of her death?
JANET. She’d make a will as the fancy took her. She was a rich woman and she had a lot of money to leave and no near relatives. “It must go where it can do the most good,” she would say. Once it was to orphans she left it, and once to an old people’s home, and another time a dispensary for cats and dogs, but it always came to the same in the end. She’d quarrel with the people and then she’d come home and tear up the will and make a new one.
MYERS. Do you know when she made her last will?
JANET. She made it on October the eighth. I heard her speaking to Mr. Stokes, the lawyer. Saying he was to come tomorrow, she was making a new will. He was there at the time—the prisoner, I mean, kind of protesting, saying, “No, no.”
(LEONARD hastily scribbles a note.)
And the mistress said, “But I want to, my dear boy. I want to. Remember that day I was nearly run over by a bus. It might happen any time.”
(LEONARD leans over the dock and hands the note to mayhew, who passes it to SIR WILFRID.)
MYERS. Do you know when your mistress made a will previous to that one?
JANET. In the spring it was.
MYERS. Were you aware, Miss MacKenzie, that Leonard Vole was a married man?
JANET. No, indeed. Neither was the mistress.
SIR WILFRID. (Rising) I object. What Miss French knew or did not know is pure conjecture on Janet MacKenzie’s part. (He sits.)
MYERS. Let us put it this way: You formed the opinion that Miss French thought Leonard Vole a single man? Have you any facts to support that opinion?
JANET. There was the books she ordered from the library. There was the Life of Baroness Vurdett Coutts and one about Disraeli and his wife. Both of them about women who’d married men years younger than themselves. I knew what she was thinking.
JUDGE. I’m afraid we cannot admit that.
JANET. Why?
JUDGE. Members of the Jury, it is possible for a woman to read the life of Disraeli without contemplating marriage with a man younger than herself.
MYERS. Did Mr. Vole ever mention a wife?
JANET. Never.
MYERS. Thank you. (He sits.)
SIR WILFRID. (Rises. Gently and kindly) I think we all appreciate how very devoted to your mistress you were.
JANET. Aye—I was.
SIR WILFRID. You had great influence over her?
JANET. Aye—maybe.
SIR WILFRID. In the last will Miss French made—that is to say the one made last spring, Miss French left almost the whole of her fortune to you. Were you aware of that fact?
JANET. She told me so. “All crooks, these charities,” she said. “Expenses here and expenses there and the money not going to the object you give it for. I’ve left it to you, Janet, and you can do what you think’s right and good with it.”
SIR WILFRID. That was an expression of great trust on her part. In her present will, I understand, she has merely left you an annuity. The principal beneficiary is the prisoner, Leonard Vole.
JANET. It will be wicked injustice if he ever touches a penny of that money.
SIR WILFRID. Miss French, you say, had not many friends and acquaintances. Now why was that?
JANET. She didn’t go out much.
SIR WILFRID. When Miss French struck up this friendship with Leonard Vole it made you very sore and angry, didn’t it?
JANET. I didn’t like seeing my dear lady imposed upon.
SIR WILFRID. But you have admitted that Mr. Vole did not impose upon her. Perhaps you meant hat you didn’t like to see someone else supplanting you as an influence on Miss French?
JANET. She leaned on him a good deal. Far more than was safe, I thought.
SIR WILFRID. Far more than you personally liked?
JANET. Of course. I’ve said so. But it was of her good I was thinking.
SIR WILFRID. So the prisoner had a great influence over Miss French, and she had a great affection for him?
JANET. That was what it had come to.
SIR WILFRID. So that if the prisoner had ever asked her for money, she would almost certainly have giv
en him some, would she not?
JANET. I have not said that.
SIR WILFRID. But he never received any money from her?
JANET. That may not have been for want of trying.
SIR WILFRID. Returning to the night of October the fourteenth, you say you heard the prisoner and Miss French talking together. What did you hear him say?
JANET. I didn’t hear what they actually said.
SIR WILFRID. You mean you only heard the voices—the murmur of voices?
JANET. They were laughing.
SIR WILFRID. You heard a man’s voice and a woman’s and they were laughing. Is that right?
JANET. Aye.
SIR WILFRID. I suggest that is exactly what you did hear. A man’s voice and a woman’s voice laughing. You didn’t hear what was said. What makes you say that the man’s voice was Leonard Vole’s?
JANET. I know his voice well enough.
SIR WILFRID. The door was closed, was it not?
JANET. Aye. It was closed.
SIR WILFRID. You heard a murmur of voices through a closed door and you swear that one of the voices was that of Leonard Vole. I suggest that is mere prejudice on your part.
JANET. It was Leonard Vole.
SIR WILFRID. As I understand it you passed the door twice, once going to your room, and once going out?
JANET. That is so.
SIR WILFRID. You were no doubt in a hurry to get your pattern and return to your friend?
JANET. I was in no particular hurry. I had the whole evening.
SIR WILFRID. What I am suggesting is that on both occasions you walked quickly past that door.
JANET. I was there long enough to hear what I heard.
SIR WILFRID. Come, Miss MacKenzie, I’m sure you don’t wish to suggest to the Jury that you were eavesdropping.
JANET. I was doing no such thing. I’ve better things to do with my time.
SIR WILFRID. Exactly. You are registered, of course, under the National Health Insurance?
JANET. That’s so. Four and sixpence I have to pay out every week. It’s a terrible lot of money for a working woman to pay.
SIR WILFRID. Yes, yes, many people feel that. I think, Miss MacKenzie, that you recently applied for a national hearing apparatus?
JANET. Six months ago I applied for it and not got it yet.
SIR WILFRID. So your hearing isn’t very good, is that right? (He lowers his voice.) When I say to you, Miss MacKenzie, that you could not possibly recognize a voice through a closed door, what do you answer? (He pauses.) Can you tell me what I said?
JANET. I can no’ hear anyone if they mumble.
SIR WILFRID. In fact you didn’t hear what I said, although I am only a few feet from you in an open court. Yet you say that behind a closed door with two people talking in an ordinary conversational tone, you definitely recognized the voice of Leonard Vole as you swept past that door on two occasions.
JANET. It was him, I tell you. It was him.
SIR WILFRID. What you mean is you want it to be him. You have a preconceived notion.
JANET. Who else could it have been?
SIR WILFRID. Exactly. Who else could it have been? That was the way your mind worked. Now tell me, Miss MacKenzie, was Miss French sometimes lonely all by herself in the evening?
JANET. No, she was not lonely. She had books from the library.
SIR WILFRID. She listened to the wireless, perhaps?
JANET. Aye, she listened to the wireless.
SIR WILFRID. She was fond of a talk on it, perhaps, or of a good play?
JANET. Yes, she liked a good play.
SIR WILFRID. Wasn’t it possible that on that evening when you returned home and passed the door, that what you really heard was the wireless switched on and a man and woman’s voice, and laughter? There was a play called Lover’s Leap on the wireless that night.
JANET. It was not the wireless.
SIR WILFRID. Oh, why not?
JANET. The wireless was away being repaired that week.
SIR WILFRID. (Slightly taken aback.) It must have upset you very much, Miss MacKenzie, if you really thought Miss French intended to marry the prisoner.
JANET. Naturally it would upset me. It was a daft thing to do.
SIR WILFRID. For one thing, if Miss French had married the prisoner it’s quite possible, isn’t it, that he might have persuaded her to dismiss you.
JANET. She’d never have done that, after all these years.
SIR WILFRID. But you never know what anyone will do, do you? Not if they’re strongly influenced by anyone.
JANET. He would have used his influence, oh yes, he would have done his best to make her get rid of me.
SIR WILFRID. I see. You felt the prisoner was a very real menace to your present way of life at the time.
JANET. He’d have changed everything.
SIR WILFRID. Yes, very upsetting. No wonder you feel so bitterly against the prisoner. (He sits.)
MYERS. (Rising) My learned friend has been at great pains to extract from you an admission of vindictiveness towards the prisoner . . .
SIR WILFRID. (Without rising, and audibly for the benefit of the Jury) A painless extraction—quite painless.
MYERS. (Ignoring him) Did you really believe your mistress might have married the prisoner?
JANET. Indeed I did. I’ve just said so.
MYERS. Yes, indeed you have. In your view had the prisoner such an influence over Miss French that he could have persuaded her to dismiss you?
JANET. I’d like to have seen him try. He’d not have succeeded.
MYERS. Had the prisoner ever shown any dislike of you in any way?
JANET. No, he had his manners.
MYERS. Just one more question. You say you recognized Leonard Vole’s voice through that closed door. Will you tell the Jury how you knew it was his?
JANET. You know a person’s voice without hearing exactly what they are saying.
MYERS. Thank you, Miss MacKenzie.
JANET. (To the JUDGE) Good morning. (She stands down and crosses to the door up L.)
MYERS. Call Thomas Clegg.
(The POLICEMAN opens the door.)
USHER. (Rising and crossing to C.) Thomas Clegg.
POLICEMAN. (Calling) Thomas Clegg.
(JANET exits. THOMAS CLEGG enters up L. He carries a notebook. The POLICEMAN closes the door. The USHER moves to the witness box and picks up the Bible and oath card. CLEGG crosses and enters the witness box and takes the Bible from the USHER.)
CLEGG. (Saying the oath by heart) I swear by Almighty God that the evidence that I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. (He puts the Bible on the ledge of the witness box.)
(The USHER puts the oath card on the ledge of the witness box, crosses and resumes his seat.)
MYERS. You are Thomas Clegg?
CLEGG. Yes, sir.
MYERS. You are an assistant in the forensic laboratory at New Scotland Yard?
CLEGG. I am.
MYERS. (Indicating the jacket on the table) Do you recognize that coat?
(The USHER rises, crosses to the table and picks up the jacket.)
CLEGG. Yes. It was given to me by Inspector Hearne and tested by me for traces of blood.
(The USHER hands the coat up to CLEGG, who brushes it aside. The USHER replaces the jacket on the table, crosses and resumes his seat.)
MYERS. Will you tell me your findings?
CLEGG. The coat sleeves had been washed, though not properly pressed afterwards, but by certain tests I am able to state that there are traces of blood on the cuffs.
MYERS. Is this blood of a special group or type?
CLEGG. Yes. (He refers to his notebook.) It is of the type O.
MYERS. Were you also given a sample of blood to test?
CLEGG. I was given a sample labelled “Blood of Miss Emily French.” The blood group was of the same type—O.
(MYERS resumes his seat.)
SIR WILFRID. (Rising) You say the
re were traces of blood on both cuffs?
CLEGG. That is right.
SIR WILFRID. I suggest that there were traces of blood on only one cuff—the left one.
CLEGG. (Looking at his notebook) Yes. I am sorry, I made a mistake. It was only the left cuff.
SIR WILFRID. And it was only the left sleeve that had been washed?
CLEGG. Yes, that is so.
SIR WILFRID. Are you aware that the prisoner had told the police that he had cut his wrist, and that that blood was on the cuff of this coat?
CLEGG. So I understand.
(SIR WILFRID takes a certificate from his ASSISTANT.)
SIR WILFRID. I have here a certificate stating that Leonard Vole is a blood donor at the North London Hospital, and that his blood group is O. That is the same blood group, is it not?
CLEGG. Yes.
SIR WILFRID. So the blood might equally well have come from a cut on the prisoner’s wrist?
CLEGG. That is so.
(SIR WILFRID resumes his seat.)
MYERS. (Rising) Blood group O is a very common one, is it not?
CLEGG. O? Oh, yes. At least forty-two per cent of people are in blood group O.
MYERS. Call Romaine Heilger.
(CLEGG stands down and crosses to the door up L.)
USHER. (Rising and crossing to C.) Romaine Heilger.
POLICEMAN. (Opens the door. Calling) Romaine Heilger.
(CLEGG exits. ROMAINE enters up L. There is a general buzz of conversation in the Court as she crosses to the witness box. The POLICEMAN closes the door. The USHER moves to the witness box and picks up the Bible and oath card.)
USHER. Silence! (He hands the Bible to ROMAINE and holds up the card.)
ROMAINE. I swear by Almighty God that the evidence that I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
(The USHER replaces the Bible and oath card on the ledge of the witness box, crosses and resumes his seat.)
MYERS. Your name is Romaine Heilger?
ROMAINE. Yes.
MYERS. You have been living as the wife of the prisoner, Leonard Vole?
ROMAINE. Yes.
MYERS. Are you actually his wife?
ROMAINE. I went through a form of marriage with him in Berlin. My former husband is still alive, so the marriage is not . . . (She breaks off.)
MYERS. Not valid.
SIR WILFRID. (Rising) My lord, I have the most serious objection to this witness giving evidence at all. We have the undeniable fact of marriage between this witness and the prisoner, and no proof whatsoever of this so-called previous marriage.