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H.M. folded his arms.

'Me lord; members of the jury. You're probably won-derin' what sort of defence we're here to offer. Well, I'll tell you,' said H.M. magnanimously. 'First of all, we'll try to show that not one single one of the statements made by the prosecution could possibly be true.'

Sir Walter Storm rose with a dry cough.

'My lord, the assertion is so breath-taking that I should like to be quite clear about it,' he said. 'I presume my learned friend does not deny that the deceased is dead?'

'Ss-s-t!' hissed Lollypop, as H.M. lifted both fists. Well, Sir Henry?'

'No, my lord,' said H.M. 'We'll concede that as bein' the only thing the Attorney-General has been able to find out about this case unaided. We'll also concede that zebras have stripes and hyenas can howl. Without drawin' any more personal comparisons between hyenas and-'

The zoology of the matter does not concern us,' said . Mr Justice Rankin, without batting an eyelid. 'Proceed, Sir Henry.'

T beg your lordship's pardon and withdraw the question,' said the Attorney-General gravely; 'submitting the accepted fact that hyenas do not howclass="underline" they merely laugh.'

'Hyenas - Where was I? Ah, I got it. Members of the jury,' pursued H.M., leaning his hands on the desk, 'the Crown have presented their case to you on two counts. They've said to you: "If the prisoner didn't commit this crime, who did?" They've also said: "It's true we can't show you any shadow of a motive for this crime; but therefore the motive must have been a very powerful one." Both of those counts are pretty dangerous for you to go on. They've based their case on a culprit they can't find and a motive they don't know.

'Let's take first this question of motive. You're asked to believe that the prisoner went to Avory Hume's house with a loaded pistol in his pocket. Why? Well, the police-officer in charge of the case says: "People do not usually carry weapons unless they think they may have a use for them." In other words, you're subtly asked to believe that the prisoner went there with the straight intention of murdering Avory Hume. But why? As a prelude to married life, it's a little drastic. And what prompted the feller to do that? The only thing you've heard is a telephone conversation - where, mind you, there wasn't one bitter or flamin' word spoken the whole time. "Considerin' what I have heard, I think it best that we should settle matters concerning my daughter. Can you manage to come to my house at six o'clock" and all the rest of it. Did he say to the prisoner: "I'll settle your hash, damn you"? He did not. He said it to a dead phone; he said it to himself. All the prisoner heard - all anyone says he heard - was a cold and formal voice invitin' him to the house. And ' therefore, you're asked to believe, therefore he grabbed up someone else's gun and rushed round to the house with murder written all over his face.

'Why? The suggestion creeps in that the victim heard something pretty bad about the prisoner. You haven't heard what it was; you've heard only that they can't tell you what it was. They simply say: "Where there's smoke there must be some fire"; but you haven't even heard about any smoke. They can't supply any reason why Avory Hume suddenly seemed to act like a lunatic. 'But, d'ye see,I can.'

There was no doubt that he had caught his audience. He was speaking almost off-handedly, his fists on his hips, and glaring over his spectacles.

'The facts, the actual physical facts in this case, aren't in doubt. It's the causes for these facts that we're goin' to question. We're goin' to show you the real reason for the victim's conduct: we're goin' to show you that it had nothing whatever to do with the prisoner: and we're goin' to suggest that the whole case against this man was a deliberate frame-up from end to end. The Crown can't supply any motive for anybody's actions; we can. The Crown can't tell you what happened to a large piece of feather that mysteriously vanished; we can. The Crown can't tell you how anyone except the prisoner could have committed the crime; we WILL.

‘I said a minute ago that the case has been presented to you: "If the prisoner didn't commit the crime, who did?" But you can't say to yourselves: "It is very difficult to think that he didn't do it"; if that's what you think, you'll have to acquit him. But I don't mean to bother with merely provin' a reasonable doubt of his guilt; we mean to show that there's no reasonable doubt of his innocence. Why, burn me -'

Lollypop warningly flourished that curious typewritten sheet as H.M. began to thrust out his neck.

'All right, all right I In other words, you'll hear an alternative explanation. Now, it's not my business to indicate who really committed this murder, if the prisoner didn't. That's outside our inquiry. But I'll show you two pieces of a feather, hidden in a place so obvious that nobody in this dazzlin' investigation has thought of looking there; and I'll ask you where you really think the murderer was standin' when Avory Hume was killed. You've heard a whole lot of views and opinions. You've heard all about the prisoner's sinister leers and erratic conduct: first they tell you he's so nervous he can't hold on to his hat, and next he's so coldly cynical that he smokes a cigarette: though why either of them acts should be suspicious is beyond my simple mind. You've heard how first he was supposed to threaten Hume with murder, and then how Hume got up and bolted the door so that he could do it more conveniently. You've heard what he might have done and what he probably did and what he never could have done in this broad green world; and now, by the flaming horns o' Tophet, it's time you heard the truth. I call the prisoner.'

While H.M. gobbled at a glass of water, one of the warders in the dock touched Answell's arm. The door in the dock was unlocked, and he was led down through the well of the court. He walked nervously, without looking at the jury as he passed. His neck-tie was a little loose from much fingering; and his hand would go up to it frequently. Again we had an opportunity of studying someone under fire. Answell's^ light hair was parted on one side; he had good features which showed imagination and sensitiveness rather than a high intelligence; and his only movement, aside from touching his tie or moving his big shoulders slightly, was to glance up at the roof of the witness-box. In this roof there is a concealed mirror - a relic of the days when light was thus focused - and it seemed to fascinate him at times. His eyes looked a little sunken and completely fixed.

Despite H.M.'s truculence - he was drinking water with the effect of gargling it -1 knew he was worried. This was the turn of the case. During the time a prisoner is in the box (usually more than an hour and sometimes a day) he carries his fate in his mouth every second. It is a good man who will not falter before the pulverizing cross-examination that is waiting for him.

H.M.'s manner was deceptively easy.

'Now, son. Your name?'

'James Caplon Answell,' said the other.

Although he was speaking in a very low tone, hardly audible, his voice flew off at a tangent. He cleared his throat a few times, turning his head away to do so, and then gave a half-guilty glance at the judge.

'You've got no occupation, and you live at 23 Duke Street?'

'Yes. That is - I lived there.'

'At about the end of December last, did you become engaged to be married to Miss Mary Hume?' 'Yes.'

'Where were you then?'

'At Mr and Mrs Stoneman's house at Frawnend, in Sussex.'

H.M. led him gently through the part about the letters, but it did not put him at his ease. 'On the Friday - that's January 3rd - did you decide to go up to town next day?'