The Judas Window

'Did he tell you what he meant to do about settlin' Captain Answell's hash?'

'No; I asked him, but he would not tell me. The only other thing he said was to ask where he could be certain of finding Reg, and I said at Jim's flat. He said: "Yes, I thought so; I have already been there."'

'He said that he had already been there?' H.M. raised his voice. 'Did he say anything about pinchin' Captain Answell's automatic pistol out of the flat?'

The effect of this was broken by the judge's interruption.

'The witness has already told you, Sir Henry, that she heard nothing more.'

H.M., well satisfied, patted his wig. 'And then, on top of all this,' he went on, 'your fiance' all of a sudden decided to go to London as well, and you were afraid somethin' would blow up?' 'Yes, I was half crazy.'

'That's why you wrote to your father on Friday night, after the phone call?' 'Yes.'

'Does this postscript here, "You will take care of that other matter, won't you?" - does that refer to the effective settling of Captain Answell's hash?'

'Yes, of course.'

'One more little point,' pursued H.M., with a long and rumbling sniff. 'A witness has testified here about the rather odd way your father acted when he got that letter at the breakfast table on Saturday morning. He walked to the window, and he announced in a grim kind o' tone that your fiance was comin' to town that day - and meant to see him. The witness said: "Oh, then we will not go to Sussex after all; we will invite him to dinner," or words to that effect. The deceased said that those other two would go to Sussex as arranged. He also said: "We will not invite him to dinner, or anywhere else."' H.M. slapped his hand on the table. 'What he meant was, then, that they wouldn't invite him to dinner in case the two cousins ran into each other?'

Sir Walter Storm stirred out of his immobility.

'My lord, for the last time I must protest against this constant attempt to question witnesses about things they did not see or words they did not hear, particularly since it is always done in the form of a leading question.'

'Do not answer that,' said Mr Justice Rankin.

'In your opinion,' said H.M., after the customary form of sardonic apology, 'in your opinion, from the things you have seen and the things you have heard, doesn't what you've just told us show what really did happen on the night of the murder?'

'Yes.'

'Would a woman have the nerve to go through with what you've just told us to-day, unless she believed absolutely that this man is innocent?'

He pretended to listen for an answer, and then sat down with a whack that shook the bench.

There was some whispering behind us, around, beyond, a sound in long grasses which you knew centred in only one thing. Mary Hume must have known it as well; she was drawing patterns with her finger on the edge of the ledge, and looking down. But from time to time she would glance up, briefly, while the Attorney-General was taking some while before beginning his cross-examination. Her pretty face was growing dull red; and, as though unconsciously, she would draw her sables closer round her. How long this mental narcotic would sustain her you could not tell. She had badly damaged many parts of the prosecution's case: you realized that much of Answell's apparent stumbling and foolish testimony must be the solid truth: and it was clear the jury thought so too. But the whispering grew like noise in a forest. Someone enquired plaintively if they were not going to show us the photograph. I noticed that the space reserved for newspapermen was now completely empty, though I could not remember having seen any of them hurry out It was a matter for headlines and speculations in every British home.

'Hold on to your hat; here we go,' whispered Evelyn fiercely, and Sir Walter Storm got up to cross-examine.

Nothing could have exceeded the sympathy and consideration of the Attorney-General's manner. His voice was quietly persuasive.

'Believe me, Miss Hume, we quite appreciate your sincerity in this matter, and your courage in offering this somewhat unusual picture. At the same time, you had no hesitation in posing, I believe, for a dozen of this nature?'

'Eleven.'

'Very well; eleven.' Again he waited for a time, pushing some books into an even line on the desk. 'All these things to which you have testified, Miss Hume - I take it that you were aware of them at the time of the murder?'

'I believe you have stated that, when you learned of your father's death you hurried back from Sussex and arrived at the house on that same night?'

'Yes.'

'Quite so,' remarked the other, meticulously pushing another book into line. 'Yet you did not mention to the police, then or at any other time, the remarkable circumstances to which you have just testified?'

'No.'

'Did you mention them to any other person?'

'Only to -' Her slight gesture indicated H.M.

'Are you aware, Miss Hume, that had you given this information to the police, and demonstrated to them that Captain Answell had attempted to blackmail you, it would not have been necessary to bring this photograph into court at all? Or to expose yourself to any such humiliating examination as this must be?'

'Yes, I knew that.'

'Oh, you knew that?' enquired Sir Walter, quickening with interest and looking up from the book. 'Yes, I - I read up on it.'

'I presume this experience cannot be pleasant for you?' 'No, it is not,' replied the girl. Her eyes looked strained. 'Then why did you not mention it, and do the prisoner what good you could without bringing matters to this?' ‘I -'

'Was it because you believed the prisoner must be guilty; and therefore that these photographs bore no relation to his actual guilt?'

H.M. got up with painful effort. 'Appreciatin' my learned friend's consideration, we'd still like to know what line that question takes. Is it now accepted by the Crown - as we've been suggesting all along - that a mistake was made between Caplon Answell and Captain Answell, and that the deceased got one in attemptin' to settle the hash of the other?'

Sir Walter smiled. 'Hardly. We accept the photograph as a fact; we accept the suggestion that Captain Answell took the photograph; but we shall be compelled to deny that these two points have any bearing on the matter in hand - the guilt or innocence of the prisoner.'

At my side, Evelyn nudged me sharply.

'But surely they don't dispute that now?' Evelyn asked. 'Why, it seems as plain as the sun to me.'

I told her she was prejudiced. 'Storm's quite sincere: he believes Answell is a common-or-garden variety of murderer, wriggling in front of the facts. He'll show that the girl is simply inventing lies to cover him: that there were goings-on between Reginald and Mary Hume, but no attempt at blackmail by Reginald; and that they're simply making a last-minute effort to construct a defence.'

'Well, it sounds silly to me. Do you believe that?'

'No; but look at the two women on the jury.'

Black looks from various directions brought us to silence while the Attorney-General proceeded.

'Perhaps I did not make myself quite clear,' said Sir Walter. 'Let me try again. All the things you tell us here to-day, you could have told at the very time of the prisoner's arrest?'

'Yes.'

'Would they not have been as valuable to him then as my learned friend wishes us to believe they are now?' 'I - I don't know.' 'Yet you did not mention them?' 'No.'

'You preferred (please excuse the term. Miss Hume, but I fear this is necessary), you preferred to make a show of yourself here rather than to explain all this before?'

"That is a little strong, Sir Walter,' interposed the judge sharply. 'I must remind you that this is not a court of morals. We have suffered so much in the past from those who appear to have laboured under this impression that I feel constrained to mention it now.'