In the Mayor's Parlour Part 44

"Did you see him go into the church?"

"Yes, and hear him lock himself inside it."

"Did he eventually bring the keys back?"

"Not to me. My missis."

Meeking waved Spizey's magnificence aside and called for Mrs. Spizey.

Mrs. Spizey, too, readily remembered the evening under discussion and said so, with a sniff which seemed to indicate decided disapproval of her memories respecting it.

"What were you doing that evening, Mrs. Spizey?" asked Meeking.

"Which for the most part of it, sir, I was a-was.h.i.+ng of that very floor as you're a-standing on, sir, me being cleaner to the Moot Hall. That 'ud be from six to eight."

"Then you went home, I suppose?"

"I did, sir, and very thankful to!"

"Was your husband at home?"

"He were not, sir. Which Spizey had gone out to have his gla.s.s, sir--as is his custom."

"Did Mr. Krevin Crood come to you with the keys of the church?"

"He did, sir. Which the clock had just struck eight. And remarked, sir, that the light was failing, and that his eyes wasn't as strong as they had been. Pleasant-like, sir."

"I see! Had Mr. Krevin Crood any papers in his hand?"

"He had papers in his hand, sir, or under his arm."

"And that was just after eight o'clock?"

"The clocks had just struck it, sir."

Meeking nodded his dismissal of Mrs. Spizey. It was plain that he was getting near the end of his case and his manner became sharp and almost abrupt.

"Call Detective-Sergeant Welton," he said. "Welton, were you present when Superintendent Hawthwaite arrested the prisoner Krevin Crood, and afterwards when the other prisoner, Simon Crood, was taken into custody?"

"I was, sir."

"Did you afterwards, on Superintendent Hawthwaite's instructions, search Krevin Crood's lodgings and Simon Crood's house?"

"I did, sir."

"Tell their Wors.h.i.+ps what you found."

"I first made a search at the rooms occupied by Krevin Crood in Little Bailey Gate. I there found in an old writing-case kept in his bedroom a quant.i.ty of papers and doc.u.ments in the handwriting of the late Mayor, Mr. Wallingford. I handed these over to Superintendent Hawthwaite. I now produce them. There are fifty-six separate papers in all. I have gone through them carefully. All relate to Corporation accounts and to the financial affairs of the borough. Several are blood-stained."

There was a s.h.i.+ver of horror amongst the women present as the witness handed over a sheaf of various-sized papers, indicating where the stains lay. But the even-toned, matter-of-fact, coldly-official voice went on.

"Later, I made a search of the prisoner Simon Crood's house at the Tannery. In a desk in a room which he uses as a private office I found more papers and doc.u.ments similar to those which I had found at Krevin Crood's lodgings. I produce these--there are seventeen separate papers.

All are in the handwriting of the late Mr. Wallingford. I also discovered in a drawer in Simon Crood's bedroom a memorandum book, bound in red leather, the greater part of which is filled with notes and figures made by the late Mayor. I produce this too. I also identify it as a book which the late Mayor was in the habit of carrying about with him. I have frequently seen him make use of it."

While every neck was craned forward to catch a glimpse of the memorandum book, Tansley suddenly saw Krevin Crood making signals to him from the dock. He drew Brent's attention to the fact; then went down into the well of the court and over to Krevin. Brent watched them curiously; it seemed to him that Krevin was asking Tansley's advice, and that Tansley was dissuading Krevin from adopting some particular course. They conversed for some minutes, while the magistrates were examining the memorandum book and the papers. Simon Crood joined in, and seemed to agree with Tansley. But suddenly Krevin turned away from both with a decisive gesture, and advanced to the front of the dock.

"Your Wors.h.i.+ps," he exclaimed in a loud, compelling tone, "I have had quite enough of this farce! I desire to make a full and important statement!"

CHAPTER XXIV

BEHIND THE PANEL

Despite the admonitions of the presiding magistrate, and the stern voices of sundry officials, posted here and there about the court, a hubbub of excited comment and murmur broke out on Krevin Crood's dramatic announcement. Nor was the excitement confined to the public benches and galleries; round the solicitors' table there was a putting together of heads and an exchange of whisperings; on the bench itself, crowded to its full extent, some of the magistrates so far forgot their judicial position as to bend towards each other with muttered words and knowing looks. Suddenly, from somewhere in the background, a strident voice made its tones heard above the commotion:

"He knows! Let him tell what he knows! Let's hear all about it!"

"Silence!" commanded the chairman. "If this goes on, I shall have the court cleared. Any further interruption----" He interrupted himself, glancing dubiously at Krevin. "I think you would be well advised----"

"I want no advice!" retorted Krevin. Simon had been at his elbow, anxious and pleading, for the last minute: he, it was very evident, was sorely concerned by Krevin's determination to speak. "I claim my right to have my say, at this stage, and I shall have it--all this has gone on long enough, and I don't propose to have it go on any longer. I had nothing to do with the murder of Wallingford, but I know who had, and I'm not going to keep the knowledge to myself, now that things have come to this pa.s.s. You'd better listen to a plain and straightforward tale, instead of to bits of a story here and bits of a story there."

The chairman turned to those of his brother magistrates who were sitting nearest to him and, after a whispered consultation with them and with the clerk, nodded not over graciously at the defiant figure in the dock.

"We will hear your statement," he said. "You had better go into the witness-box and make it on oath."

Krevin moved across to the witness-box with alacrity and went through the usual formalities as only a practised hand could. He smiled cynically as he folded his fingers together on the ledge of the box and faced the excited listeners.

"As there's no one to ask me any questions--at this stage, anyway--I'd better tell my story in my own fas.h.i.+on," he said. "And to save time and needless explanations, let me begin by saying that, as far as it went, all the evidence your Wors.h.i.+ps have heard, from the police, from Louisa Speck, from Dr. Pellery, from Spizey and his wife, from everybody, I think, is substantially correct--entirely correct, I might say, for I don't remember anything that I could contradict. The whole thing is--what does it lead up to? In the opinion of the police to identifying me with the actual murder of John Wallingford, and my brother there with being accessory to the crime. The police, as usual, are absolutely and entirely at fault--I did not kill Wallingford, and accordingly my brother could not be an accessory to what I did not do and never had the remotest intention of doing. Now you shall hear how circ.u.mstantial evidence, brought to a certain point, is of no value whatever if it can't be carried past that point. Hawthwaite has got his evidence to a certain point--and now he's up against a blank wall. He doesn't know what lies behind that blank wall. I do! And I'm the only person in this world who does.

"Now listen to a plain, truthful, unvarnished account of the real facts.

On the evening of the day before Wallingford's murder, I was in the big saloon at Bull's Snug between half-past six and seven o'clock. Mallett came in, evidently in search of somebody. It turned out that I was the person he was looking for. He came up to me and told me that his wife was away and that he was giving a little dinner-party to my brother Simon and to Coppinger. They were already at his house, and he and they were anxious that I should join them. Now, I knew quite enough of my brother Simon, and of Coppinger, and of Mallett himself to know that if they wanted my company it was with some ulterior motive, and being a straightforward man I said so there and then. Mallett admitted it--they had, he said, a matter of business to propose to me. I had no objection and I went with him. What the girl, Louisa Speck, has told you about what happened after I entered the Bank House is quite correct--she's a reliable and a good witness and gave her evidence most intelligently.

She took me up into Mallett's dressing-room, showed me where I could get what I wanted, and left me to make my toilet. I helped myself to clean linen, and I have no doubt whatever that the handkerchief which I took from one of the drawers which the girl had opened for me was that of Dr.

Wellesley's of which we have heard so much in this case. I say, I have no doubt whatever about that--in fact, I am sure of it.

"Having made my toilet, I went downstairs and joined my host and his other guests. We had a gla.s.s or two of Mallett's excellent sherry, and in due course we dined--dined very well indeed. When dinner was over, Mallett got up some of his old port, and we settled down to our business talk. I very quickly discovered why I had been brought into it. What we may call the war between Wallingford, as leader of the reform party, and the Town Trustees, as representatives of the old system, had come to a definite stage, and Mallett, Coppinger, and my brother, Simon, realized that it was high time they opened negotiations with the enemy. They wanted, in short, to come to terms, and they were anxious that I, as a lawyer, as a man thoroughly acquainted with the affairs of the borough, and as a former official of high standing, should act as intermediary, or amba.s.sador, or go-between, whatever you like to call it, in the matter at issue between them and Wallingford. Of course I was willing.

"Mallett acted as chief spokesman, in putting matters plainly before me.

He said that Wallingford, since his election as Mayor of Hathelsborough, had found out a lot--a great deal more than they wished him to know. He had acc.u.mulated facts, figures, statistics; he had contrived to possess himself of a vast amount of information, and he was steadily and persistently acc.u.mulating more. There was no doubt whatever, said Mallett, as to what were the intentions of Wallingford and his party--though up to then Wallingford's party did not know all that Wallingford knew. There was to be a clean sweep of everything that existed under the Town Trustee system. The Town Trustees themselves were to go. All pensions were to be done away with. All secret payments and transactions were to be unearthed and prohibited for the future. The entire financial business of the town was to be placed in the care of the Corporation. In short, everything was to be turned upside-down, and the good old days to cease. That was what was to happen if Wallingford went triumphantly on his way.

"But it was the belief of Mallett, and of Coppinger, and of my brother, Simon, that Wallingford's way could be barred. How? Well, all three believed that Wallingford could be bought off. They believed that Wallingford had his price; that he could be got at; that he could be squared. All three of them are men who believe that every man has his price. I believe that myself, and I'm not ashamed of voicing my belief.

Every man can be bought--if you can only agree on a price with him. Now, the Town Trustees knew that Wallingford had ambitions; they knew what some of his ambitions were, and of one in particular. They proposed to buy him in that way, and they commissioned me to see him privately and to offer him certain terms.

"The terms were these. If Wallingford would drop his investigations and remain quiet for the remaining period of his mayoralty, the Town Trustees would agree to the making and carrying out of certain minor reforms which should be engineered by and credited to Wallingford in order to save his face with his party. Moreover, they would guarantee to Wallingford a big increase in his practice as a solicitor, and they would promise him their united support when a vacancy arose in the Parliamentary representation of Hathelsborough, which vacancy, they knew, would occur within the year, as the sitting member had intimated his intention of resigning. Now, this last was the big card I was to play--we all knew that Wallingford was extremely desirous of Parliamentary honours, and that he was very well aware that with the Town Trustees on his side he would win handsomely, whoever was brought against him. I was to play that card for all it was worth. So then the proposal was--Wallingford was to draw off his forces, and he was to be rewarded as I have said. Not a man of us doubted that he would be tempted by the bait, and would swallow it."

Brent leapt to his feet and flung a scornful exclamation across the court.

"Then not a man of you knew him!" he cried. "He'd have flung your bribe back into the dirty hands that offered it!"