The Crime and the Criminal

  CHAPTER XXIX.

  THE TRIAL BEGINS.

  I am not able to describe all that took place. To begin with,everything that happened seemed to me for some time to be happening ina dream. When, afterwards, I read the account in the newspapers, itcame to me with all the force of novelty.

  The fact was that, for ever so long, it was all I could do to preventmyself from swooning and making a scene and spoiling it all.

  It seems funny that, after having gone so much out of my way, and takenall that trouble, I should have been such a goose; but I was.

  When I begun to have my wits about me I found that the mean-lookinglittle man who had so keenly eyed Mrs. Tennant was making a speech.Then I understood, not all at once, but by degrees, that he was counselfor the Crown, that he was opening the case for the prosecution, andthat, in short, he was Sir Haselton Jardine.

  So this was the father of Mr. Townsend's Dora!

  Well, if the daughter in any way resembled the father, I could not saymuch for Mr. Townsend's taste.

  But the thing was out of the question. I was certain that he did carefor her, and it was altogether impossible that he could care for awoman who in any way whatever resembled this shapeless, pulseless,mummified little man. I knew my friend, the gentleman, too well. I feltpersuaded that, as regards resemblance, or rather want of resemblance,to her father, Dora Jardine was one of nature's eccentricities.

  It seemed odd when I did begin to come to myself, to notice how thepeople hung upon every word which the little man was uttering--and theyhad to hang if they wished to hear. He seemed to be speaking in awhisper. His voice matched his appearance and his size. After one hadlistened for awhile, however, one began to realise what a singularlypenetrating whisper it was. He never raised his voice; he made not theslightest attempt to produce an effect. He spoke as one could fancy amachine might speak, yet each syllable must have been audible to everyperson there.

  And probably his speech, as a whole, produced a strong impression onevery one who heard it. I only heard--to understand--the concludingwords, but I know that when he sat down I felt as if the first stringof the rope which ultimately was to bury the man behind me had beenwoven before my eyes.

  "Call Samuel Parsons!"

  Samuel Parsons proved to be a big, shock-headed man of the navvy type.He was not examined by Sir Haselton Jardine, but by another barrister,who was as big and blustering as Sir Haselton was small and quiet.

  Samuel Parsons was a ganger. He had been walking along the up line tohis morning's work, when he saw something lying among the bushes abouthalf-way down the bank. It was a woman. She was dead. He described theposition in which she lay, and exactly whereabouts he found her.

  Tommy's counsel asked no questions.

  A policeman followed. He had been informed that a woman had been founddead on the line. Went to see her. Described the position in which shelay. Was informed that she had not been touched before he came. She wasquite cold. Was well dressed. Her clothes were wet. It had rainedearlier in the morning. There was nothing about her to show who shewas. Examined her linen later; there were no initials or marks on it ofany kind. Her pocket was empty.

  Again Tommy's counsel asked no questions.

  A porter came next--Joseph Wilcox. He was examined by Sir HaseltonJardine. Joseph Wilcox was a pleasant-faced young fellow, who gavehis evidence with a degree of assurance and an air of convictionwhich--considering what his evidence was--took me aback. If ever therewas a witness who seemed convinced of the truth of his own testimony,Joseph Wilcox was the man. And yet----

  Well, this is what his evidence amounted to:--

  He was the porter who had shown me into Tommy's carriage when the trainleft Brighton. I had not noticed him. Indeed, I remembered nothing atall about him. He declared that he had noticed me particularly. Heshould have known me again if he had seen me anywhere. Asked what hadmade him notice me, he said because I had come running up just as thetrain was starting, and--this with something of a blush--because I wasso good-looking. I ought to have blushed, but I did not. Asked todescribe me, he gave a pretty glib and pretty clear description of awoman who was not in the least like me.

  I wondered what impression Joseph Wilcox's ideas of my personalappearance made on Tommy. I guessed that they did impress him, becausepresently a scrap of paper was handed from the dock to the counsel infront.

  Asked if he had seen me since, he said that he had. He had gone to EastGrinstead, and had seen me in the mortuary, dead. Had he the slightestdoubt that the woman he had seen in the mortuary dead was the samewoman he had shown into the carriage?

  He had no doubt whatever.

  He said this with an air which, I am persuaded, impressed every one whoheard him with the conviction that there was no doubt.

  I wondered what Mr. Wilcox's feelings would be if he ever came to learnthat he had done his utmost to hang a man by the utterance of as greata lie as ever yet was told.

  Sir Haselton then asked him if he had noticed if there was any one inthe carriage into which he had shown me. There was--a gentleman. He hadoccasion to notice him because he had been leaning out of the carriagewindow talking to two other gentlemen who had come, apparently, to seehim off.

  "Should you know him again?"

  "I should." Mr. Wilcox pointed towards the dock. "This is thegentleman."

  "You are certain of that?"

  "I am quite certain."

  As Sir Haselton sat down I felt as if he had woven another strand.

  Tommy's counsel rose.

  I found out afterwards that his name was Bates, M.P., Q.C. He was tall,well-built, grey-headed. His wig suited him. He had a bold, clearvoice, and a trick of standing with one hand under the skirt of hisgown and the other pointed towards the witness.

  "You appear to have noticed this unfortunate woman very closely, Mr.Wilcox. Can you tell us something else which you noticed about her?"

  "In what way?"

  "Did you notice, for instance, if she had been drinking?"

  "I did not."

  "Can you swear that she had not been drinking?"

  "There was nothing about her which made me suppose that she had."

  Mr. Bates sat down. If Tommy had told him that I had had too much todrink he had told as big a story as was ever told.

  "Call George Baxendale!"

  Mr. Baxendale was the first gentlemanly-looking witness who hadappeared in the box; he was also the one who seemed to be least at hisease. He was a tall, fair, slightly built man, with long, droopingmoustache, the ends of which he had a nervous trick of twisting. Heglanced towards the dock with what he possibly intended to be afriendly smile. The distortion of his visage, however, which actuallytook place, more strongly resembled a ghastly grin.

  He was examined by Sir Haselton's colleague.

  "Are you related to the prisoner?"

  "I am related to his wife. I am Mrs. Tennant's cousin."

  This explained the ghastly grin.

  "Do you remember Sunday, the 8th of November?"

  "I do."

  "Where were you?"

  "I was at Brighton, staying with some friends of mine."

  "Did any one come to see you on that day?"

  "Yes. Mr. Tennant."

  "By what train did he return to town?"

  "By the 8.40."

  "Have you any particular reason for remembering that it was by thattrain he returned to town?"

  "Well, for one thing, Jack Cooper and I went up to the station to seehim off."

  "What happened while you were at the station seeing him off?"

  Mr. Baxendale told of my getting into Tommy's carriage. He answered thequestions which were put to him as if he was desirous of giving aslittle information as he possibly could, which did not make it betterfor Tommy. He had not noticed me particularly. Did not think he shouldknow me again. Had seen the body at East Grinstead. Had not recognisedit. Could see no likeness. Still, it might be the same woman.
Could notswear that it was, or that it was not. Had really not taken sufficientnotice of the woman who had got into the train.

  His questioner sat down, leaving an impression on the minds of thepeople that if the witness had not been Mrs. Tennant's cousin some ofhis questions would have received different answers.

  Mr. Bates stood up.

  "About this woman of whom we have heard--was there nothing about herwhich you noticed?"

  "There was."

  "What was there about her which you did notice?"

  "It struck me that she had been drinking." The witness became volubleall of a sudden. "She seemed to be in a state of excitement, which,probably, was induced by drink. She certainly was not a lady. Shestruck me as being a woman of a certain class. In fact, I was justgoing to suggest to Tennant that he should get into anothercompartment, when the train was off."

  "Why were you going to make that suggestion to Mr. Tennant?"

  "Because I knew that he was a shy, nervous sort of fellow, who easilyloses his presence of mind, and I thought that, cooped up in acompartment alone with a woman of that sort, who was in that condition,without a stoppage before he got to town, there might beunpleasantness."

  "You thought it probable that she might annoy him?"

  "I thought it extremely probable."

  When Mr. Bates sat down, the other counsel once more got up. Heproceeded to turn Mr. Baxendale inside out.

  He could not swear the woman had been drinking. He only surmised it.Could not exactly say what caused him to surmise it. She was excited.That might have been owing to her anxiety to catch the train. Women doget excited when they are flurried. She might have been a lady. Hadno groundwork of fact for his suggestion that she was a woman of acertain class. It was quite true that, as he had said in hisexamination-in-chief, he had not noticed her. Should not like to swearthat she was not a teetotaler and a lady of the highest birth andbreeding. In fact, he should not like to swear to anything at all. Hemight get down.

  He got down, looking badgered.

  I owed him one.

  He was followed by the Mr. Cooper with whom he had stayed at Brighton.Mr. Cooper was a short, thick-set man, looking just what he was, acaptain in the navy. His manner was self-contained; his answers shortand to the point.

  He had accompanied Mr. Baxendale to see Tommy off. Had seen me get intohis carriage. Had scarcely glanced at me. Should not know me again. Hadseen the body at East Grinstead. Could not say if it was the samewoman. Was not qualified to express an opinion.

  Mr. Bates asked no questions.

  Next came a porter, John Norton. He had an anxious, careworn face, andgrizzled hair. His manner was tremulous. He kept fidgeting with hiscap. More than once he had to be asked to speak up. He was examined bySir Haselton Jardine.

  Was a porter at Victoria Station. Remembered the 8.40 from Brightoncoming in on Sunday, November 8th. It was due at Victoria at 10 p.m.Noticed a gentleman sitting alone in a first-class carriage. It was theprisoner. Noticed he was holding a white handkerchief to his cheek.There were red stains on it, as of blood. Was going to open thecarriage door when a gentleman jumping out of the next carriage openedit instead. When he passed again the gentleman was standing at the doorof the compartment speaking to the prisoner. Prisoner was holdinganother handkerchief to his face--a silk one. Presently the prisonerand the gentleman went off together. Passed the carriage againimmediately afterwards. Saw something lying on the floor. Found it waspieces of glass. Found that the carriage was in disorder. There werestains of blood on the cushions and the carpet. The window, in front ofwhich the prisoner had been sitting, was down. On pulling it up, foundthat the glass was smashed to pieces. Gave information to the guard.Efforts were made to find the prisoner, but he had left the station.Was certain that the prisoner was the man he had seen sitting in theempty carriage.

  Mr. Bates asked no questions. I wondered what was the defence heintended to set up. If he was going to do nothing more to earn hismoney than he was doing at present, it seemed to me that Tommy might aswell have kept it in his pocket. Here was Sir Haselton Jardine twistingthe rope tighter and tighter round Tommy's neck, and Mr. Bates seemedto be doing nothing at all to stop him.

  I would have asked John Norton questions.

  The guard of the train came next. John Norton had called his attentionto the broken window. He corroborated what John Norton had said as tothe condition of the carriage. He had noticed that the alarm bellappeared untouched. Nothing had attracted his attention on the journey.The compartment in question was in the next coach but one to his, buthe had heard nothing. Sounds would have travelled in his direction.Still, it was difficult, when there was a wind, and the train was goingat a high speed, to hear what was taking place in the next coach butone; for instance, if there were two persons quarrelling. At the sametime, if any one had screamed at all loudly he could scarcely havefailed to hear that. His hearing was very good. The compartment lookedto him as if somebody had been having a fight in it.

  Again no questions from Mr. Bates. So far, Tommy could have managedequally well without his help.

  Though it is true that that is saying little.