The Solitary Farm Page 6

  CHAPTER VI

  THE INQUEST

  Tunks lost no time in delivering his gruesome message and in spreadingthe news of the death. While the village policeman telegraphed to hissuperior officer at Pierside, the handy-man of the late Captain Huxhamadopted the public-house as a kind of St. Paul's Cross, whence topromulgate the grim intelligence. Here he passed a happy and excitinghour detailing all that had happened, to an awe-stricken crowd, membersof which supplied him with free drinks. The marsh-folk were a dull,peaceful, law-abiding people, and it was rarely that crimes werecommitted in the district. Hence the news of the murder caused atremendous sensation.

  Captain Jabez Huxham was well known, and his eccentricity in the matterof planting Bleacres with yearly corn had been much commented upon. InNapoleonic times the fertile marsh farms had been golden with grain, butof late years, owing to Russian and American competition, little hadbeen sown. Huxham, as the rustics argued, could not have got evenmoderate prices for its crops, so it puzzled one and all why hepersisted in his unprofitable venture. But there would be no more sowingat Bleacres now, for the captain himself was about to be put under theearth. "And a grand funeral he'll have," said the rustics, morbidlyalive to the importance of the grim event. For thirty years no crime ofthis magnitude had been committed in the neighbourhood, and the violentdeath of Huxham provided these bovine creatures with a new thrill.

  Meanwhile the policeman, Dutton by name, had proceeded to Bleacres,followed--when the news became more widely known--by a large and curiousthrong. For that day and for the following days, until Huxham's body wasburied, Bleacres could no longer be called the solitary farm, in onesense of the word. But the inherent respect of the agriculturist forgrowing crops kept the individual members of the crowd, male and female,to the narrow path which led from the boundary channel to the front doorof the Manor-house. When Inspector Inglis arrived with three or fourpolicemen from Pierside, he excluded the public from the grounds, butthe curious still hovered in the distance--beyond Jordan as itwere--with inquisitive eyes fastened on the quaint old mansion. To them,one and all, it now assumed portentous proportions as the abode ofterror.

  Inspector Inglis was a very quiet man, who said little, but who kept hiseyes on the alert. He inspected the body of the dead man, and then sentfor a doctor, who delivered his report in due course. The study wasexamined thoroughly, and the entire house was searched from cellar togarret. Then Bella and her aunt were questioned, and Tunks was also putin the witness box. But in spite of all official curiosity, backed byofficial power on the part of Inglis, he convened the jury of theinquest, as ignorant of the truth as when he had begun his search. Hecertainly found a blood-stained dagger behind the massive mahogany desk,with which undoubtedly the crime had been committed; but he coulddiscover no trace of the assassin, and three or four days later, whenthe inquest took place in the Manor-house, the mystery of the murder wasstill unsolved. Nor, on the evidence procurable, did there seem to beany chance of solution.

  During the early part of the inquiry, Mrs. Coppersley had told Inglishow her late brother had sent her with a note to Marshely asking SilasPence to call. When questioned, the preacher, not without agitation anddismay, stated that he had been absent from his lodgings until eleveno'clock on the fatal evening, and had not obeyed the summons of thedeceased. Certainly on his return he had found and read the note askinghim to call, but as the hour was late, he had deferred the visit untilthe next morning. Then, of course, the news of the murder had been madepublic, and Pence had said nothing until questioned by the Inspector.But he was quite frank and open in his replies, and Inglis was satisfiedthat the young preacher knew nothing about the matter.

  From the moment when informed by Mrs. Coppersley of the crime until theinquest, Bella suffered greatly. At her request, Dr. Ward--the medicalman who had reported on the time and manner of Huxham's death--hadexamined the dregs of the tea-cup. Beyond doubt, as he discovered,laudanum had been poured into the tea, and so largely, that it waslittle wonder she had slept so soundly. Even had there been a struggle,as Ward assured her, she would not have heard the commotion. And, as thestate of the study showed that the murderer had taken his victimunawares, it was little to be wondered at that Bella woke in ignoranceof what had taken place during the night. She was thankful to have thetestimony of the young physician as to the drugging, since thereby shewas entirely exonerated from complicity in the crime. For, dreadful asit may seem, there were those evil-seekers who hinted that Huxham'sdaughter, having been alone in the house, must be aware of the truth, ifnot actually guilty herself. But Bella knew that the evidence of Dr.Ward and Mrs. Coppersley as to the drugging and the locking of thebedroom door would clear her character.

  It was therefore not on this account that she suffered, but because ofthe inexplicable absence of Cyril Lister. Since she had seen him enterthe house shortly after eight o'clock on the fatal night she had not seteyes on him, nor had she received any communication. At a time when sheneeded him so greatly, it seemed strange that her lover should beabsent, since the fact of the murder, now being known all over England,it appeared incredible that he alone should be ignorant. In spite of herdesire to believe him guiltless, this conduct looked decidedlysuspicious. If nothing serious had taken place between Cyril and herfather on the night in question, why had Lister gone away? At least shesurmised that he had gone away, as he did not appear to be in thevillage, and she heard no mention of his name from the many people whohaunted the house. Try as she might, Bella, dearly as she loved theyoung man, could not rid herself of the frightful belief that he hadstruck the blow. Considering the circumstances, which she alone knewfully, he had every reason to commit the crime. Yet in the face of thestrongest circumstantial evidence, Bella could not bring herself tocredit Cyril's guilt. Day after day, like sister Anne, she climbed tothe quarter-deck to see if he was coming. But the day of the inquestcame in due course, and even then he had not put in an appearance.

  The Coroner was a grim, snappy old doctor, who set forth the object ofthe inquest gruffly and tersely. The jury under his direction inspectedthe body and then gathered in the large and stately dining-room of theManor-house to consider the evidence. Inspector Inglis confessed that hehad few witnesses, and that there was nothing in the evidence likely tolead to the arrest of the murderer. Robbery, said the officer, wasundoubtedly the cause of the crime, since the desk had been rifled, andthe safe had been forced open. Mrs. Coppersley, the sister of thedeceased, he went on to say, could state that she knew her brother keptat least one hundred pounds in gold in the safe. This was missing, soprobably----

  "We'll take things in order, if you please," snapped the gruff Coronerat this point of the Inspector's speech. "Call your witnesses."

  Inglis was only too willing, and Dr. Ward gave his evidence, whichproved that in his opinion, after an examination of the body, thedeceased had been stabbed to the heart between the hours of eight andeleven on the night in question. Witness could not be more precise, hesaid, a confession which brought a grunt from the Coroner. The olddoctor lifted his eye-brows to intimate that the young doctor did notknow his business over well, else he would have been more explicit. ButDr. Ward avoided an argument by hurriedly stating that, according to hisopinion--another grunt from the snappy Coroner--the wound had beeninflicted with the dagger found behind the mahogany desk.

  This remark led to the production of the dagger, a foot-long steel,broad towards the hilt and tapering to a sharp point. This was set in ahandle of jet-black wood, carved into the semblance of an ugly negro.And the odd part about the blade was that the middle portion of thesteel was perforated with queer letters of the cuneiform type, andfilled in with copper. The Coroner frowned when he examined this strangeweapon, and he looked inquiringly at Mrs. Coppersley.

  "Does this belong to your late brother?" he asked jerkily.

  Mrs. Coppersley looked at the knife. "Jabez, being a sailor, had allmanner of queer things," she said hesitatingly, "but I never set my eyeson that. He wasn't one to sho
w what he had, sir."

  "Was your brother ever in Africa on the West Coast?"

  "He was all over the world, but I can't rightly say where, sir. Why?"

  "This," the gruff Coroner shook the weapon, "is an African sacrificialknife in use on the West Coast. From the way in which the copper iswelded into the steel, I fancy some Nigerian tribe possessed it. Themembers of tribes thereabouts are clever metal-workers. The handle andthe lettering also remind me of something," mused the doctor, "for I wasa long time out in Senegal and Sierra Leone and saw--and saw--but that'sno matter. How comes an African sacrificial knife here?"

  "I'm sure I don't know, sir," said Mrs. Coppersley promptly. "Jabez, asI say, had all manner of queer things which he didn't show me."

  "You can't say if this knife belonged to him?"

  "No, sir, I can't. The murderer may have brought it."

  "You are not here to give opinions," growled the doctor, throwing theugly-looking weapon on the table. "Are you sure," he added to Ward,"that the wound was made with this knife?"

  "Yes, I'm sure," replied the young practitioner, tartly, for theCoroner's attitude annoyed him. "The weapon is sharp pointed and fitsthe wound. Also the deceased wore a thick pea-jacket and only such aknife could have penetrated the cloth."

  "If the blow were struck with sufficient force," snapped the Coroner.

  "It was," rejoined the witness. "Have you any more questions to ask me?"

  The Coroner nodded, and Ward gave surgical details to prove that deathmust have taken place almost instantaneously, since Huxham had beenstabbed to the heart. "Apparently deceased heard a noise, and rosesuddenly from his chair at the desk to face round in self-defence. Butthe assassin was too quick for him, and struck the knife to deceased'sheart with great force as is apparent from----"

  "That's all supposition," contradicted the Coroner rudely. "Stick tofacts."

  Boiling with rage, the young doctor confined himself forthwith to a baldstatement of what he had discovered and then was curtly dismissed togive place to Mrs. Coppersley.

  That lady was voluble and sharp-tongued, so that the Coroner quite metwith his match, much to the delight of Dr. Ward, smarting under muchdiscourtesy. Mrs. Coppersley deposed that she had left the house atseven o'clock, by the back door, with a note for Mr. Silas Pence fromher brother, asking him to call at the Manor-house. She left the note atMr. Pence's lodgings and then went on to the grocery shop to make somepurchases and to see Mrs. Vand and her son Henry. There she remaineduntil a quarter to ten o'clock and afterwards returned to theManor-house. Mr. Vand saw her as far as the boundary channel and thenwent home.

  "What time was that?" asked the Coroner, making notes.

  "Just at ten," replied witness, flushing at the smile on the faces ofthose who knew of the love romance. "The clock struck ten while I wasspeaking to Henry--I mean to Mr. Vand--and not knowing that it was solate I feared lest my brother should be angry. Jabez was always veryparticular as to the house being locked up, so I thought he might shutme out. I went in by the back door, having the key, and retired at onceto bed."

  "Did you not see your brother?" asked the Coroner.

  "No, sir. Knowing Jabez's violent temper I had no wish to see him, lestthere should be trouble. I went on tip-toe to bed, after locking theback door."

  "Did you hear Mr. Huxham moving about," questioned a juryman, timidly.

  "No, Mr. Tatters, I didn't. Everything was quiet as I passed the door ofthe study, and it was closed."

  "Did you see a light in the window of the study when at the boundarychannel with Mr. Vand?" asked the Coroner.

  "No; I looked too," said the witness, "for if Jabez had been up, therewould have been trouble owing to my being late. But there was no lightin the window, so I fancied Jabez might have gone to bed and have lockedme out. But he hadn't guessed I was absent, and so----"

  "Did you see a light under the study door when passing through thehall?"

  "No, and that made me believe that Jabez had gone to bed. But I didn'tthink of looking into the study; if I had," witness shuddered, "oh dearme, how very dreadful it all is. Well, then I went to bed, and nextmorning came down early to clean the study. When I entered I saw mybrother dead in his gore, whereupon I ran up stairs and got Bella tocome down. Then we sent for the police, and that's all I know."

  The Coroner looked towards Ward. "This evidence takes an hour off yourtime of death, doctor," he said sourly. "You say that the man wasmurdered after eight and before eleven. Well then, as this witnessreached the house just after ten and saw no light in the study thedeceased must have been dead when she passed through the hall on her wayto bed."

  "Oh," groaned Mrs. Coppersley, with her handkerchief to her lips. "Howdreadful if I'd looked in to see Jabez weltering in his gore."

  "It's a pity you didn't," rejoined the Coroner sharply, "for then youcould have given the alarm and the assassin might have been arrested."

  "Yes," cried Mrs. Coppersley violently, "and the assassin might havebeen in the house at the moment, with only two women, mind, and one ofthem drugged. I should have been killed myself had I given the alarm, soI'm glad I didn't."

  "Drugged! Drugged! What do you mean by drugged?"

  "Ask Bella," retorted Mrs. Coppersley. "I've told all I'm going totell."

  "Not all," said the Coroner, "was the front door locked?"

  "I didn't notice at the time, being anxious to escape Jabez and get tobed."

  "Did you notice if it was locked in the morning?"

  "Yes, when I opened it for Tunks to go for the police."

  "It _was_ locked," said Bella, rising at this juncture, "but Tunksopened it while I was talking with my aunt in the hall."

  "You can give your evidence when I ask you," snapped the Coroner rudely."Humph! So the front door was locked and the back door also. How did theassassin escape? He couldn't have gone by the front door aftercommitting the crime, since the key was in the inside, and you lockedthe back door coming and going, Mrs. Coppersley."

  "The murdering beast," said the witness melodramatically, "might havegot out of the study window."

  "Then he must be a very small man," retorted the Coroner, "for only asmall man could scramble through the window. I examined it an hour ago."

  "Please yourself," said Mrs. Coppersley, with an air of indifference,"all I know is, that I'm glad I didn't discover Jabez in his gore onthat night and at that hour. If I had, you'd be holding an inquest onme."

  "Possibly. If the assassin was in the study when you passed through thehall, Mrs. Coppersley."

  "Ugh," shivered the witness, "and that's just where he was, depend uponit, sir, getting through the window, when he'd dropped the knife behindthe desk. Oh, what an escape I've had," wept Mrs. Coppersley.

  "There, there, don't bellow," said the Coroner, testily, "get down andlet the witness, Luke Tunks, be called."

  The Bleacres handy-man had very little to say, but gave his evidence ina straightforward manner. He had left the house with Mrs. Coppersley atseven and had gone straight home to bed, as he was tired. Hisgrandmother could depose to the fact that he was in bed until themorning. Then he came as usual to the Manor-house, and found that hismaster was dead. He admitted that he had quarrelled with his master overa possible curtailment of wages, and they had not parted in a veryfriendly spirit. "But you can't say as I did for him," ended the witnessdefiantly.

  "No one suggests such a thing," snapped the Coroner. "Had you any reasonto believe that deceased expected to be murdered?"

  Tunks scratched his head, "I have and I haven't," he said at length;"master did seem afraid of someone, as he was always looking over hisshoulder. He said that he planted the corn so that there should be onlyone path up to the house. Then he rigged up that out-look round thechimney there," witness jerked his head towards the ceiling, "and he'sgot a search-light there also, which he turned on at times."

  The Coroner nodded. The late Captain's search-light was well-known, butit was only put down as another freak on the par
t of a freakish man. Butthe remark of the witness about the corn was new. "Do you mean to saythat the deceased planted the corn as a protection against some onecoming on him unawares?"

  "Yes, I do," said Tunks, sturdily, "corn don't pay, and there was alwaysonly one pathway left. Now my idea is----"

  "We don't want to hear your ideas," said the Coroner; "get down. SilasPence."

  The young preacher's examination occupied only a few minutes. He saidthat he was absent from his lodgings until eleven, and then returned tofind the note. As it was late he did not call, and went to bed, as hislandlady could prove. He had no reason to believe that Captain Huxhamexpected to be murdered, and considered that the old sailor was morethan capable of looking after himself. Witness was very friendly withthe Captain and wished to marry Miss Huxham, an arrangement to which theCaptain was quite agreeable. Witness presumed that Huxham wished to seehim about the projected marriage when he wrote the note asking witnessto call. Next morning when about to pay the visit, witness heard of themurder.

  Bella was the final witness, and stepped before the Coroner and theinquisitive jurymen, looking pale, but composed. She gave her evidencecarefully, as she made up her mind to say nothing about Cyril's visit onthe fatal night. Also she was grateful that in his statement Pence hadsaid nothing of Lister's rivalry. She noted also that Pence had keptquiet about the offer of her hand as a reward for the death of Cyrilmade by her father to the preacher. More than ever she believed thiswild declaration to be due to imagination on the young man's part.

  "What have you to say about this matter, Miss Huxham?" asked the coronerin his usual gruff way.

  "Nothing at all," she replied.

  "Nothing at all," he echoed, and the jurymen looked at one another.

  "No. I had quarrelled with my father on the afternoon of the night whenhe met with his terrible death. He refused to let me come to supper, soI retired to my room. Mrs. Coppersley brought me up tea and toast andthen locked me in my room."

  "By her father's orders," cried Mrs. Coppersley, rising.

  "Silence," said the Coroner scowling; "but surely, Miss Huxham, youcould have heard if----"

  "I heard nothing," interrupted Bella, straightening her slim figure,"for I was drugged."

  "H'm!" The Coroner looked at her shrewdly. "Mrs. Coppersley saidsomething of that. Why were you drugged? Who drugged you?"

  "My father drugged the cup of tea, brought by my aunt, with laudanum,"said Bella bravely, determined to speak out, yet conscious of thecurious faces.

  "Yes, he did," cried Mrs. Coppersley. "I brought the tea to the studyand then went to get the toast. Jabez had poured out the tea when I cameback, and giving me a cup told me to take it to Bella. I never knewmyself that it was drugged."

  "But I can state that it was," said Dr. Ward, rising. "Miss Huxham gaveme the dregs to examine. I can prove----"

  The Coroner intervened testily. "All this is very much out of order," hesaid. "Let us proceed with caution. Miss Huxham, tell your story, andthen we can hear Dr. Ward and Mrs. Coppersley."

  "I have scarcely any story to tell," said Bella, still apprehensive, yetstill brave and discreet. "I am engaged to be married, but my father didnot approve of my choice. He interrupted my meeting with my futurehusband----"

  "Who is he, if I may ask?"

  "Mr. Lister. He is a gentleman who has been stopping here----"

  "Yes, yes, I know;" and the Coroner did know, for his wife was a greatgossip and collected all the scandal for miles around. In fact he hadheard something of the philandering of Lister after Miss Huxham. "Goon."

  Bella proceeded. "My father would not allow me to come to supper, andsent up my aunt with tea and toast to lock me in my room. She did so. Idid not eat the toast, but I drank the tea, and then fell asleep half onthe floor and half on my bed. My aunt awoke me in the morning with thenews of what had happened."

  "And you heard nothing?"

  "How could she," growled Ward, "when she was drugged."

  "Silence there," said the Coroner sharply. "What time did you fall underthe influence of the opiate, Miss Huxham?"

  "Shortly after eight, so far as I can recollect."

  "Did you know that the tea was drugged?"

  "If I had I should not have drunk it," retorted the witness. "It wasonly next morning that I guessed the truth, and then I kept the dregsfor Dr. Ward to examine. He says----"

  "He can give his evidence himself," interrupted the Coroner. "Why didyour father drug you?"

  "I can't say, sir, unless he feared lest I should elope with Mr.Lister."

  "Had you any such intention?"

  "No, I had not."

  The Coroner looked at her earnestly and pinched his lip, apparentlynonplussed. The whole affair struck him as strange, and hecross-examined the girl carefully. When he examined Mrs. Coppersley andWard, both of them bore out the improbable story--in the Coroner'sopinion--told by the girl. Finally the old doctor accepted the testimonyand dismissed the witnesses.

  "I can't compliment you on the conduct of this case, Inspector Inglis,"he said, when informed that no more witnesses were forthcoming. "Youhave collected nothing likely to solve the mystery."

  "I cannot manufacture evidence, sir," said Inglis stiffly.

  The Coroner grunted and made an acid speech in which he pointed out thatthe evidence laid before him and the jury amounted to absolutelynothing. Only one verdict could be brought in--"Wilful murder againstsome person or persons unknown." This was accordingly done, and theassembly dispersed. Only the Coroner remained to state sourly to Inglisthat he considered the police in general to be fools, and the Piersideinspector to be the king of them.