CHAPTER IV

The following day was a Sunday, but Sir Impey Biggs cancelled an engagement to play golf (with the less regret as it was pouring cats and dogs), and held an extraordinary council of war.

“Well, now, Wimsey,” said the advocate, “what is your idea about this? May I introduce Mr. Crofts of Crofts & Cooper, solicitors for the defence.”

“My idea is that Miss Vane didn’t do it,” said Wimsey. “I dare say that’s an idea which has already occurred to you, but with the weight of my great mind behind it, no doubt it strikes the imagination more forcibly.”

Mr. Crofts, not being quite clear whether this was funny or fatuous, smiled deferentially.

“Quite so,” said Sir Impey, “but I should be interested to know how many of the jury saw it in that light.”

“Well, I can tell you that, at least, because I know one of them. One woman and half a woman and about three-quarters of a man.”

“Meaning precisely?”

“Well, the woman I know stuck out for it that Miss Vane wasn’t that sort of person. They bullied her a good deal, of course, because she couldn’t lay a finger on any real weakness in the chain of evidence, but she said the prisoner’s demeanor was part of the evidence and that she was entitled to take that into consideration. Fortunately, she is a tough, thin, elderly woman with a sound digestion and a militant High-Church conscience of remarkable staying-power, and her wind is excellent. She let ’em all gallop themselves dead, and then said she still didn’t believe it and wasn’t going to say she did.”

“Very useful,” said Sir Impey. “A person who can believe all the articles of the Christian faith is not going to boggle over a trifle of adverse evidence. But we can never hope for a whole jury-box full of ecclesiastical diehards. How about the other woman and the man?”

“Well, the woman was rather unexpected. She was the stout, prosperous party who keeps a sweet-shop. She said she didn’t think the case was proved, and that it was perfectly possible that Boyes had taken the stuff himself, or that his cousin had given it to him. She was influenced, rather oddly, by the fact that she had attended one or two arsenic trials, and had not been satisfied by the verdict in some other cases – notably the Seddon trial. She has no opinion of men in general (she has buried her third) and she disbelieves all expert evidence on principle. She said that, personally, she thought Miss Vane might have done it, but she wouldn’t really hang a dog on medical evidence. At first she was ready to vote with the majority, but she took a dislike to the foreman, who tried to bear her down by his male authority, and eventually she said she was going to back up my friend Miss Climpson.”

Sir Impey laughed.

“Very interesting. I wish we always got this inside information about juries. We sweat like hell to prepare evidence, and then one person makes up her mind on what isn’t really evidence at all, and another supports her on the ground that evidence can’t be relied on. How about the man?”

“The man was the artist, and the only person who really understood the kind of life these people were leading. He believed your client’s version of the quarrel, and said that, if the girl really felt like that about the man, the last thing she would want to do would be to kill him. She’d rather stand back and watch him ache, like the man with the hollow tooth in the comic song. He was also able to believe the whole story about purchasing the poisons, which to the others, of course, seemed extremely feeble. He also said that Boyes, from what he had heard, was a conceited prig, and that anybody who disposed of him was doing a public service. He had had the misfortune to read some of his books, and considered the man an excrescence and a public nuisance. Actually he thought it more than likely that he had committed suicide, and if anybody was prepared to take that point of view he was ready to second it. He also alarmed the jury by saying that he was accustomed to late hours and a stale atmosphere, and had not the slightest objection to sitting up all night. Miss Climpson also said that, in a righteous cause, a little personal discomfort was a trifle, and added that her religion had trained her to fasting. At that point, the third woman had hysterics and another man, who had an important deal to put through next day, lost his temper, so, to prevent bodily violence, the foreman said he thought they had better agree to disagree. So that’s how it was.”

“Well, they’ve given us another chance,” said Mr. Crofts, “so it’s all to the good. It can’t come on now till the next session, which gives us about a month, and we’ll probably get Bancroft next time, who’s not such a severe judge as Crossley. The thing is, can we do anything to improve the look of our case?”

“I’m going to have a strenuous go at it,” said Wimsey. “There must be evidence somewhere, you know. I know you’ve all worked like beavers, but I’m going to work like a king beaver. And I’ve got one big advantage over the rest of you.”

“More brains?” suggested Sir Impey, grinning.

“No – I should hate to suggest that, Biggy. But I do believe in Miss Vane’s innocence.”

“Damn it, Wimsey, didn’t my eloquent speeches convince you that I was a wholehearted believer?”

“Of course they did. I nearly shed tears. Here’s old Biggy, I said to myself, going to retire from the Bar and cut his throat if this verdict goes against him, because he won’t believe in British justice any more. No – it’s your triumph at having secured a disagreement that gives you away, old horse. More than you expected. You said so. By the way, if it’s not a rude question, who’s paying you, Biggy?”

“Crofts and Cooper,” said Sir Impey, slyly.

“They’re in the thing for their health, I take it?”

“No, Lord Peter. As a matter of fact, the costs in this case are being borne by Miss Vane’s publishers and by a – well, a certain newspaper, which is running her new book as a serial. They expect a scoop as the result of all this. But frankly, I don’t quite know what they’ll say to the expense of a fresh trial. I’m expecting to hear from them this morning.”

“The vultures,” said Wimsey. “Well, they’d better carry on, but tell ’em I’ll see they’re guaranteed. Don’t bring my name in, though.”

“This is very generous -”

“Not at all. I wouldn’t lose the fun of all this for the world. Sort of case I fairly wallow in. But in return you must do something for me. I want to see Miss Vane. You must get me passed in as part of your outfit, so that I can hear her version of the story in reasonable privacy. Get me?”

“I expect that can be done,” said Sir Impey. “In the meantime you have nothing to suggest?”

“Haven’t had time yet. But I’ll fish out something, don’t you worry. I’ve already started to undermine the confidence of the police. Chief-Inspector Parker has gone home to twine willow-wreaths for his own tomb-stone.”

“You’ll be careful,” said Sir Impey. “Anything we can discover will come in much more effectively if the prosecution don’t know of it beforehand.”

“I’ll walk as on egg-shells. But if I find the real murderer (if any), you won’t object to my having him or her arrested, I take it?”

“No; I won’t object to that. The police may. Well, gentlemen, if there’s nothing further at the moment, we’d better adjourn the meeting. You’ll get Lord Peter the facilities he wants, Mr. Crofts?

Mr. Crofts exerted himself with energy and on the following morning, Lord Peter presented himself at the gates of Holloway Gaol, with his credentials.

“Oh, yes, my lord. You are to be treated on the same footing as the prisoner’s solicitor. Yes, we have had a separate communication from the police and that will be quite all right, my lord. The warder will take you down, and explain the regulations to you.”