Golding: Ah yes. We’ve heard evidence of that. Massive quantities of potassium cyanide were found.

Swale: Yes.

Golding: Did you, subsequently, discuss with Major Ecclestone the possible source of this cyanide?

Swale: Yes.

Golding: Dr. Swale, were you shown any letters by Major Ecclestone?

Swale: Yes. From the defendant.

Golding: Are you sure they were from the defendant?

Swale: Oh yes. She had in the past written to me complaining about the National Health. It was her writing and signature.

Golding: What was the nature of the letters to Major Ecclestone?

Swale: Threatening. I remember in particular the one that said his dog ought to die and if he didn’t act smartly they both would.

Golding: What view did you take of these letters?

Swale: A very serious one. They threatened his life.

Golding: Yes. Thank you, Dr. Swale. (He sits.) (Defense Counsel rises.)

O’Connor: Dr. Swale, you have known the Ecclestones for some time, haven’t you?

Swale: Yes.

O’Connor: In fact you are close friends?

Swale (after a slight hesitation): I have known them for some years.

O’Connor: Would you consider Major Ecclestone a reliable sort of man where personal judgments are concerned?

Swale: I don’t follow you.

O’Connor: Really? Let me put it another way. If antagonism has developed between himself and another person, would you consider his view of the person likely to be a sober, fair and balanced one?

Swale: There are very few people, I think, of whom under such circumstances, that could be said.

O’Connor: I suggest that at the time we are speaking of, a feud developed between Major Ecclestone and the defendant and that his attitude towards her was intemperate and wholly biased. (Pause) Well, Dr. Swale?

Swale (unhappily): I think that’s putting it a bit strong.

O’Connor: Do you indeed? Thank you, Dr. Swale. (Defense Counsel sits.)

Judge: You may leave the witness box, Dr. Swale.

(Thomas Tidwell is called to the stand. Prosecution Counsel rises.)

Golding: You are Thomas Tidwell, butcher’s assistant of the West End Butchery, 8 Park Street, Peascale, near Fulchester?

Tidwell: Yar.

Golding: On Friday 4th April, did you deliver two parcels of meat at The Elms, No. 1 Sherwood Grove?

Tidwell: Yar.

Golding: Would you describe them please?

Tidwell: Aye?

Golding: How were they wrapped?

Tidwell: In paper. (Judge looks.)

Golding: Yes, of course, but what sort of paper?

Tidwell: Aye?

Golding: Were they wrapped in brown paper or in newspaper?

Tidwell: One of each.

Golding: Thank you. Did you know, for instance, the contents of the newspaper parcel: what was in it?

Tidwell: Liver.

Golding: How did you know that?

Tidwell (to Judge): It was bloody, wannit? Liver’s bloody. Liver’ll bleed froo anyfink, won’t it? I seen it, din’ I? It’d bled froo the comics.

(Major half-rises. Prosecution Counsel checks him with a look. Major signals to Usher, who goes to him.)

Judge: Are you chewing something, Mr. Tidwell?

Tidwell: Yar.

Judge: Remove it.

Golding: You’re sure of this? The wrapping was a page from a comic publication, was it?

Tidwell: That’s what I said, din’ I? I seen it, din’ I?

Golding: If I tell you that Major Ecclestone says that the liver was wrapped in sheets from the Daily Telegraph, what would you say?

Tidwell: ’E wants is ’ead read. Or else ’e was squiffy. (The Major rises and is restrained by the Usher.)

Golding (glaring at the Major, turning to Tidwell): Yes. Yes. Very good. Now, will you tell the court how you put the parcels away?

Tidwell: Like I always done. Opened the safe and bunged ’em in, din’ I?

Golding: Anything at all unusual happen during this visit?

Tidwell: Naow.

Golding: You left by the side gate into the right-of-way, didn’t you?

Tidwell: S’right.

Golding: This would bring you face to face with the side wall of Miss Freebody’s house. Did you notice anything at all unusual about it?

Tidwell: Nothin’ unusual. What you might call a regular occurrence. She was snooping. Froo the blind. You know. Froo the slats—you know. Nosey. She’s always at it.

Golding: Did you do anything about it?

Tidwell (Turns to accused, gives a wolf whistle and a sardonic salute. She is furious): Just for giggles. (Whistles)

Golding: Did Miss Freebody react in any way?

Tidwell: Scarpered.

Golding: Why should she spy upon you, do you think?

Tidwell: Me? Not me. I reckon she was waiting for the boyfriend.

Miss Freebody: How dare you say such things…

Golding: The boyfriend?

Tidwell: S’right. (He guffaws and wipes away the grin with his hand.) Pardon me.

Golding (He has been taken aback by this development but keeps his composure): Yes. Well. I don’t think we need concern ourselves with any visitor the accused may or may not have been expecting.

Tidwell: Her? Not her. Her.

Judge: What is all this, Mr. Golding?

Golding: I’m afraid it’s beyond me, my lord. Some sort of bucolic joke, I imagine.

(Judge grunts.)

Golding: That’s all I have to ask this witness, my lord. (He sits down.)

(Thomas Tidwell makes as if to leave the box. Defense Counsel rises.)

Judge: Stay where you are, Mr. Tidwell. (He has decided to push this unexpected development a little further.) Mr. Tidwell, when a moment ago you said “not her”—meaning the accused—but “her,” to whom did you refer?

Tidwell: It’s well-known, innit? His missus.

Judge: Mrs. Ecclestone?

Major: What the devil are you talking about?

Tidwell: S’right. Every Friday, like I said, reg’lar as clockwork.

Judge: What is as regular as clockwork?

Tidwell: ’E is. Droppin’ in. On ’er.

Judge: Who is?

Tidwell: ’Im. It’s well-known. The doctor.

Major: God damn it, I demand an explanation. Death and damnation—(Usher moves to restrain the Major.)

Miss Freebody (laughing): That’s right. You tell them.

Golding: Major Ecclestone! Sit down.

Usher: Quiet!

(The commotion subsides.)

Judge: For the last time, Major Ecclestone, I warn you that unless you can behave yourself with propriety you will be held in contempt of court. Mr. Golding.

Golding: My lord, I do apologize. Major, stand up and apologize to his Lordship. (The Major mutters.) Stand up then, and do it. Go on.

Major (He looks as if he will spontaneously combust. He rises, blows out his breath, comes to attention and bellows in court-martial tones): Being under orders to do so, I tender my regrets for any apparently overzealous conduct of which I may appear to have been unwittingly guilty.

Judge: Very well. Sit down and—and—and imagine yourself to be gagged. (The Major sits. He is troubled with indigestion.) Yes, Mr. O’Connor…

O’Connor: Now, Mr. Tidwell, you say, do you, that you know positively that Dr. Swale visited Major Ecclestone’s house after you left it?

Tidwell: ’Course I do.

O’Connor: How do you know?

Tidwell: I seen ’im, din’ I?

O’Connor: What time was this?

Tidwell: Free firty.

O’Connor: Describe where you were and precisely how you saw Dr. Swale.

Tidwell: I’m on me bike in the lane, arn’ I, and I bike past ’is car and ’e’s gettin’ aht of it, inn’e? (O’Connor signs for him to address the Judge. He does so.) I turn the corner and I park me bike and come back and look froo the rear window of the car and see ’im turn into the right-of-way. (He giggles.)