"Kane Luker," called the sergeant.
Luker gave his evidence in a quiet precise voice. He had been sitting up reading when he heard the fire alarm. He left his room and went downstairs, where he discovered that the fire appeared to have started in the library, but it was already too fierce for him to be able to get near it. He opened the front door, and while he was doing so Sir Robert and Lady Sangore came downstairs. He told them to get outside and shout up at the bedroom windows. He started to go down to the lodge to telephone for the fire brigade. He met the chauffeur on the way and sent him back to make the call, and himself returned to the house. As he reached it, Knightley carried Lady Valerie out. He went in and started to climb the stairs, where he met Fairweather. He was sure that everyone must have heard the alarms.
"I said 'Do you know if the others are all out?' and I thought he gave some affirmative answer. It's only since then that I've realized that he must have missed my first words and thought that I said 'The others are all out.' But I agree with him that it will be hard for us to forgive ourselves for the tragic results of our misunderstanding."
"I don't think that any blame can be attached to you," observed the coroner benignly. "All of us have made similar mistakes even in normal circumstances, and in a moment of excitement like that they are still more understandable. The tragic results of the mistake were due to a combination of causes for which you and Mr Fairweather can scarcely be held responsible."
He turned pointedly and challengingly towards the jury.
"Any questions?" he barked.
He seemed to be daring them to ask any questions.
"Yus," said the black-bearded little man.
The coroner discovered him again with fresh evidence of distaste. His brows drew together ominously, as if it had just occurred to him to wonder who had been responsible for including such an impossible person in the quorum, and as if he were making a mental note to issue a severe reprimand to the party concerned. He tapped impatiently on the table with his finger tips.
"Well?"
"I suppose you all 'ad wine with your dinner, and when you went into the libry you 'ad more drinks," said the little juryman. " 'Ow many drinks did you 'ave and 'ow many did Mr Kennet 'ave?"
Luker shrugged.
"Some of us had a little wine with dinner, certainly; and after dinner there was whiskey and soda in the library. I can't say exactly how much we had, but it was certainly a very moderate amount."
"Kennet wasn't drunk, was 'e?"
"Certainly not."
"Then why didn't 'e 'ear the alarm?"
Luker looked appealingly at the coroner, who said: "That is hardly a question which the witness can be expected to answer."
He looked at the jury as if inviting them to dissociate themselves from their one discreditable member; and the foreman, a smeary individual with a lock of hair plastered down over his forehead, said ingratiatingly: "He might 've been a heavy sleeper."
"From the evidence, that seems to be the only reasonable explanation," said the coroner firmly. "Thank you, Mr Luker."
General Sangore and his wife briefly corroborated what had been told before. They had been wakened by the fire alarms, they left the house, and it was not until later that they realized that Kennet was missing. Lady Valerie gave evidence of being rescued by Captain Knightley and of being the first to notice that Kennet was not outside. The chauffeur gave evidence of having met Luker on the drive and of having gone back to call the fire brigade. He had had a lot of difficulty in getting through, and consequently had been detained too long to see much of what went on at the house.
None of these witnesses were questioned. The black-bearded juryman, temporarily discouraged, had relapsed into frustrated scowling.
The coroner shuffled his papers again with an air of returning equanimity. No doubt he was feeling that he had now got the situation well in hand.
"Next witness, please."
"Simon Templar," called the sergeant.
III
How Simon Templar drove to London,
and General Sangore experienced an impediment in his speech
1
There was a stir of excitement in the press seats as Simon Templar walked up on to the platform and took the oath. Even if the party from Whiteways had failed to recognize his name, there was no such obtuseness among the reporters. The Saint had provided them with too many good stories in the past for them to forget him, and their air of professional boredom gave way to a sudden and unexpected alertness. A subdued hum of speculation swept over them and spread to one or two other parts of the room where the name had also revived recollections. The black-bearded little juryman sat forward and stared.
While Simon was taking the oath, he noticed that the coroner was poring intently over a scrap of paper which had somehow come into his hands. When he raised his eyes from it, they came to rest on the Saint with a new wariness. He folded the note and tucked it away in his breast pocket without shifting his gaze; and his manner became very brisk again.
"I understand, Mr Templar, that you arrived on the scene of the fire some time after it had started."
"I have no idea," said the Saint carefully. "I only saw it a very short time before I got there. And I was there in time to hear Lady Valerie say that Kennet was missing."
The coroner rubbed his chin. He seemed to be weighing his words with particular circumspection.
"Then you went into the house to try to get him out."
"Yes."
"In what condition was the house when you entered it? I mean, how far had the fire progressed?"
"The whole place was blazing," Simon answered. "It was worst in the part which I now gather was called the west wing. There was fire in the hall, and the stairs had begun to burn. Part of the passage I had to go down to reach Kennet's room was also alight."
"I take it that with all that fire there would be a great deal of smoke and fumes."
"There was quite a bit."
"I understand that you were quite — er — groggy when you came out."
"Only for a moment. It passed off very quickly."
"But I take it that if you had stayed in the house any longer than you did, you would inevitably have been overcome by the smoke and fumes and lost consciousness."
"I suppose so, eventually."
"To look at you, Mr Templar, one would certainly get the impression that your physical condition was exceptionally good."
"I've always got around all right."
There was a pause. The coroner turned to the jury.
"Mr Templar modestly tells us that he gets around all right," he stated. "You can see for yourselves that he has the build and bearing of an unusually strong and athletic man. You will therefore agree that his powers of resistance to such things as smoke and fumes are probably higher than the average, and certainly immeasurably greater than those of a slightly built sedentary type such as the late Mr Kennet, whose constitution, I am told, was always somewhat delicate. I want you to bear this in mind a little later on."
He turned back to the Saint.
"You appear to have acted with singular courage, Mr Templar," he said. "I'm sure that that is quite obvious to all of us here in spite of the modest way in which you have told your story. I should like to compliment you on your extremely gallant attempt to save this unfortunate young man's life. Next witness, please."
A glint of steel came into the Saint's eyes. He knew that the coroner had had a good talk with the party from Whiteways, and it had been evident from the start of the proceedings that everything was laid out to lead up to a verdict of accidental death with as little fuss as possible. That was all very well; and the Saint had quite enjoyed himself while he was waiting for his turn. But now he realized that he was not intended to have a turn. His own evidence had been adroitly manoeuvred towards bolstering up the desired verdict; and the coroner, warned about him in time, was getting rid of him with a pontifical pat on the back before he had a chance to derange the well-oiled machinery. Which was not by any means the Saint's idea.