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“What the deuce are you getting at?” demanded Mark. Roger said, softly : “I’m wondering if Cox was drugged before we caught him, and whether that made him seem so dull?”

CHAPTER 19

Loiss Whole Story

MARK SAID dubiously that it was a possibility, but wasn’t Roger allowing his imagination to run away with him? Roger went into the other room and took out the Cox-case files. He turned up the medical reports and scanned them. Three doctors had examined the man, one for the police, two for the defence. They were unanimous in saying that Cox had been a person of low mentality, very nearly subnormal. The police doctor said that there was no doubt at all that he knew what he was doing and he was fully responsible for his actions. Obviously medical opinion for the defence had not really thought it possible to prove otherwise, and so the defence, in the hands of Oliphant, had not tried to sway the jury on the grounds of insanity.

‘Reflexes, dull,’ Roger read, ‘pulse below normal, pupils enlarged . . .’ ‘A man who had been given one of the depressant drugs might be in that state for months after his last dose.’

“Well?” asked Mark, after nearly half an hour’s silence. “Have you found anything?”

Roger seemed to be thinking of something else.

“Er — no,” he said. “That is — no, it cant be !”

“How brightly he goes on,” drawled Mark.

“Do be quiet,” said Janet.

Roger thought again of Friday the 13th.

The sordid little house, the floorboards, the nauseating smell, the ‘straightforward’ murder and the dull-witted Cox. He remembered him at the police-station awaiting the second hearing at the police court; he had been remanded for eight days at the first.

“I just can’t credit it!” he exclaimed, standing up and pushing his chair back.

Mark shrugged his shoulders and said in sepulchral tones :

The great policeman is slowly going insane.”

Janet said :

“Can we help, Roger?”

“No,” said Roger. “No. That is — I was at New Street collecting all the paraphernalia of evidence. The camerawork was done, and the fingerprints. I’d found the hammer which Cox used. There were bloodstains on the wood. He hadn’t cleaned it properly, and it certainly caused the wounds in his wife’s head. In short, all the evidence was there. I was going off, feeling fully satisfied although it was a nasty case—”

He paused.

Mark no longer acted the fool, but eyed him intently. The voices came from the other room in a steady ripple.

“A taxi drew up outside,” Roger said. “Oliphant came out. Oliphant,” he repeated, softly. “He said that he had been asked to act for Benny Cox.” He leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. He saw the portly solicitor, Mortimer Oliphant, a well-known lawyer who frequently acted for poorer criminals. He was ambitious and took on difficult jobs which a less forceful solicitor would have refused. He worked for the Poor Persons Legal Society and was one of its brighter members.

Mortimer Oliphant had a man at the court regularly, and if a case appeared particularly tricky, or whenever there seemed to be the slightest chance of pulling off an odds- against case, he would volunteer to take it. He briefed young barristers who usually did well. His reputation was excellent and he often managed to win a case which the police thought was a foregone conclusion. A man of middle-age, he had a large private income. He always claimed that he specialised in criminal cases because he liked the excitement of matching his wits against the police.

Roger remembered the smile on Oliphant’s face when he had squeezed along the narrow passage and seen Roger in Cox’s kitchen. He had pulled a wry face and said that he hoped it wasn’t necessary to stay in that atmosphere for long. Roger had not thought twice about his appearance, for he had guessed why he had come.

“I’m going to look after Benny Cox,” Oliphant had said.

Roger remembered smiling. “You’ve backed a loser this time!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Oliphant had said. “I always enjoy a few rounds with you. You don’t mind if I look round?”

Roger remembered admiring his thoroughness. Few solicitors would have taken the trouble to come to the scene of the crime. He had thought nothing of it even when he had read through his report for the day — “Oliphant saw me at New Street and said that he was going to handle Coxs defence.” He had not troubled to go over it again. It was the kind of thing that Oliphant did. True, he came to the Yard more often and asked for information. Being a likeable man one somehow always gave him what he wanted. Roger vaguely remembered another thing; that Oliphant had been called to the telephone one day at the Yard.

“You shouldn’t call me here,” he had rebuked the caller. “What is it you want, Mai—?”

That ‘Mai’ could have been short for Malone.

“Oliphant,” said Mark, quietly. “Didn’t you say that he handled Cox’s defence?”

Janet answered for Roger. “Yes.”

“You think—” Mark began, but his voice trailed off.

“I can’t think of anything else which might have made Malone and his leaders fear that I might have seen what was happening,” Roger said. “Oliphant doesn’t often visit the scene of the crime — he usually gets to the case when it’s too late — but he was very quick this time. Supposing he was briefed by Malone or whoever Malone is working for? Supposing he realised afterwards that his eagerness might have been suspect ? He would tell his client, of course. The client is superstitious. It happened on the 13th — “one of these days West is bound to see something funny in it, we’ll have to make sure that he can’t do any harm”. It would answer everything,” Roger said.

“Would Oliphant let anyone go for you, Roger?” Mark asked. He knew the solicitor well and found the suspicions hard to believe.

“He might,” said Roger. “He might even have thought that I was keeping something up my sleeve. I was feeling in a good mood that morning and made one or two cracks, the kind that come out when everything has gone well. Oliphant might have misread my attitude. He might have discussed it with his client. The framing was clever. Not too obvious, just enough to make sure that Chatworth would have to take notice of it. Whoever planned it knew Leech’s reputation with us. Malone might have known everything else, but he couldn’t have known that we relied so much on Leech. Oliphant would. I wonder—” he stood up slowly — “I wonder who the legal adviser to the Society of European Relief is? We’d better phone the Yard and find out.”

“I’ll do it,” said Mark, promptly.

Oliphant loomed so much in Roger’s mind that he did not notice the louder note of Tennant’s voice in the next room.

The door opened and Tennant strode out, holding Lois by the hand — and Lois seemed much more at peace.

“It’s all right!” declared Tennant.

“What’s all right?”

“I’ve fixed it — I mean, we’ve fixed it,” said Tennant. “She’s told me everything. There’s no need for you to question her again, I’ve got it all written down. You want the names of the people she went to see, don’t you?”

“I certainly do,” said Roger.

“I knew you would,” said Tennant. “She’s remembered a dozen — they’re all on the list, together with the gist of what she told you.” He put a small notebook in front of Roger and beamed widely. “All written in ink and Lois has signed it. But,” he added with a quick frown, “you’ve got to keep your side of the bargain. I don’t know much about the law but I do know there’s such a thing as Queen’s Evidence. If this isn’t Queen’s Evidence, I don’t know what is!”