Great Porter Square: A Mystery. v. 1

  CHAPTER III.

  EXTRACTED FROM THE "EVENING MOON."

  The _Evening Moon_ was an enterprising little paper, which gave allthe news of the day in a fashion so entertaining that it was a successfrom its first appearance. Between noon and night a dozen editions werepublished, and were hawked about the streets by regiments of ragged boysand girls (irregular infantry), whose vivacity and impudence added tothe circulation, if they did not to the dignity, of the journal. Beneaththe heading of the paper was a representation of the moon with the manin it looking at a spade--to which was tacked the legend: "What doyou call this?" "A spade." "Then I shall call it a spade." Despitethis declaration it delighted in word-painting, and its reports ofpolice-court proceedings, highly coloured in many instances andunwarrantably but agreeably spiced with romance, were read with avidity.The _Evening Moon_ of the 19th of August contained the following reportof the police-court proceedings in

  THE GREAT PORTER SQUARE MYSTERY.

  "The inquiry into the awful and mysterious murder in Great Porter Squarewas resumed this morning at the Martin Street Police Court, before theresident magistrate, Mr. Reardon. The accused person, Antony Cowlrick,who presented a woe-begone appearance, was brought up in charge of thewarders. The case has been adjourned four times, and this was the fifthappearance of Antony Cowlrick in the dock. The police preserve a strictsilence with regard to him--a silence against which we protest. Arrestedupon suspicion, without warrant, and without, so far we can learn, ashadow of evidence against him, nothing but injustice and wrong canaccrue from the course pursued by the Scotland Yard officials. AntonyCowlrick is unmistakably a poor and miserable man. All that was foundupon him when he was arrested were a stale crust of bread and a piece ofhard cheese, which he had thrust into his pocket as he was flying fromthe pursuit of an enterprising constable. His very name--the name hegave at the lock-up on the night of his arrest--may be false, and, ifour information is correct, the police have been unable to discovera single person who is acquainted with, or can give any informationconcerning him. The rumour that Antony Cowlrick is not quite right inhis mind certainly receives some confirmation from his haggard andwandering looks; a more wretched and forlorn man has seldom been seenin a magistrate's court, suggestive as such a place is of misery anddegradation. He was carefully guarded, and a strict watch was kept uponhis movements, the theory of the police being that he is a dangerous andcunning character, whose sullen demeanour is assumed to defeat the endsof justice. Mr. White Lush, on the part of the Treasury, conductedthe inquiry. The interest taken by the public in the case is stillunabated, and the court--if a close, abominably-ventilated room fourteenfeet square can be so denominated--was crowded to excess.

  On the calling of the case, the magistrate inquired if the accused manwas still undefended, and the police replied that no one appeared forhim. The answer was scarcely given when Mr. Goldberry (of the firm ofGoldberry, Entwistle, and Pugh), rose and said that he was there torepresent the accused.

  Magistrate: Have you been instructed?

  Mr. Goldberry: No, your worship. A couple of hours ago I endeavoured toconfer with the prisoner, but the police refused me permission to seehim.

  Inspector Fleming explained that when Mr. Goldberry sought an interviewwith the prisoner, the prisoner was asked whether he wished to see him;his answer was that he wished to see no one.

  Mr. Goldberry: Still, it cannot but be to the prejudice of the prisonerthat he should be unrepresented, and I am here to watch the case in hisinterest.

  Magistrate: Perhaps you had better confer with him now.

  A few minutes were allowed for this purpose, at the end of which Mr.Goldberry said, although it was impossible to obtain anything likesatisfaction from the accused, that he did not object to the appearanceof a solicitor on his behalf. "He seems," added Mr. Goldberry, "to besingularly unmindful as to what becomes of him."

  Magistrate: The case can proceed.

  Mr. White Lush: Call Mrs. Preedy.

  The witness presented herself, and was sworn.

  Mr. White Lush: Your name is Anna Maria Preedy?

  Witness: Yes, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: You are a widow?

  Witness: Yes, sir, worse luck. 'Is name was James, poor dear!

  Mr. White Lush: You live at No. 118, Great Porter Square?

  Witness: Yes, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: How long have you occupied your house?

  Witness: Four and twenty year, come Michaelmas.

  Mr. White Lush: What kind of a house is yours?

  Witness (with spirit): I defy you or any gentleman to say anythink aginits character.

  Mr. White Lush: You keep a lodging-house?

  Witness: I'm none the worse for that, I suppose?

  Mr. White Lush: Answer my question. You keep a lodging-house?

  Witness: I do, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: Do you remember the night of the 9th of last month?

  Witness: I've got reason to.

  Mr. White Lush: What reason?

  Witness: Two of my lodgers run away without paying their rent.

  Mr. White Lush: That circumstance fixes the night in your mind?

  Witness: It'd fix it in yours if you kep' a lodging-house. (Laughter.)

  Mr. White Lush: No doubt. There were other circumstances, independent ofthe running away of your lodgers, which serve to fix that night in yourmind?

  Witness: There was, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: The night was Wednesday?

  Witness: It were, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: How and at what time did you become aware that yourlodgers had run away?

  Witness: When the last post come in. I got a letter, and the turn itgave me----

  Mr. White Lush: That is immaterial. Have you the letter with you?

  Witness: The way the perlice 'as been naggin' at me for that letter----

  Mr. White Lush: Have you the letter with you?

  Witness: It's lost, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: Let me impress upon you that this letter might be animportant link in the case. It is right and proper that the policeshould be anxious about it. Do you swear positively that you have lostit?

  Witness: I do, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: How did it happen?

  Witness: It were a fortnight after the body was found in No. 119. I 'adthe letter in my 'and, and was lookin' at it. I laid it down on thekitchen table, and went to answer the street door. When I come back theletter was gone.

  Mr. White Lush: Was any person in the kitchen when you left it?

  Witness: Not as I am aware on, sir. There was a 'igh wind on, and I leftthe kitchen door open, and when I come back I noticed a blaze in thefire, as though a bit of paper had been blown into it.

  Mr. White Lush: Then your presumption is that the letter is burnt?

  Witness: It air, sir.

  Mr. White Lush: You have searched for it since?

  Witness: I've 'unted 'igh and low, sir, without ever settin' eyes onit.