Clouds of Witness. Дороти Ли Сэйерс
I mean-for buttin' in, but he'd seen the man's photo in the paper, an' he thought I ought to know."
The Coroner: "Did this letter surprise you?"
Duke of D.: "Couldn't believe it at first. If it hadn't been old Tom Freeborn I'd have put the thing in the fire straight off, and, even as it was, I didn't quite know what to think. I mean, it wasn't as if it had happened in England, you know. I mean to say, Frenchmen get so excited about nothing. Only there was Freeborn, and he isn't the kind of man that makes mistakes."
The Coroner: "What did you do?"
Duke of D.: "Well, the more I looked at it the less I liked it, you know. Still, I couldn't quite leave it like that, so I thought the best way was to go straight to Cathcart. They'd all gone up while I was sittin' thinkin' about it, so I went up and knocked at Cathcart's door. He said, 'What's that?' or 'Who the devil's that?' or somethin' of the sort, and I went in. 'Look here,' I said, 'can I just have a word with you?' 'Well, cut it short, then,' he said. I was surprised-he wasn't usually rude. 'Well,' I said, 'fact is, I've had a letter I don't much like the look of, and I thought the best thing to do was to bring it straight away to you an' have the whole thing cleared up. It's from a man-a very decent sort-old college friend, who says he's met you in Paris.' 'Paris!' he said, in a most uncommonly unpleasant way. 'Paris! What the hell do you want to come talkin' to me about Paris for?' 'Well,' I said, 'don't talk like that, because it's misleadin' under the circumstances.' 'What are you drivin' at?' says Cathcart. 'Spit it out and go to bed, for God's sake.' I said, 'Right oh! I will. It's a man called Freeborn, who says he knew you in Paris and that you made money cheatin' at cards.' I thought he'd break out at that, but all he said was, 'What about it?' 'What about it?' I said. 'Well, of course, it's not the sort of thing I'm goin' to believe like that, right bane-slap off, without any proofs.' Then he said a funny thing. He said, 'Beliefs don't matter-it's what one knows about people.' 'Do you mean to say you don't deny it?' I said. 'It's no good my denying it,' he said; 'you must make up your own mind. Nobody could disprove it.' And then he suddenly jumped up, nearly knocking the table over, and said, 'I don't care what you think or what you do, if you'll only get out. For God's sake leave me alone!' 'Look here,' I said, 'you needn't take it that way. I don't say I do believe it-in fact,' I said, 'I'm sure there must be some mistake; only, you bein' engaged to Mary,' I said, 'I couldn't just let it go at that without looking into it, could I?' 'Oh!' says Cathcart, 'if that's what's worrying you, it needn't. That's off.' I said, 'What?' He said, 'Our engagement.' 'Off?' I said. 'But I was talking to Mary about it only yesterday.' 'I haven't told her yet,' he said. 'Well,' I said, 'I think that's damned cool. Who the hell do you think you are, to come here and jilt my sister?' Well, I said quite a lot, first and last. 'You can get out,' I said; 'I've no use for swine like you.' 'I will,' he said, and he pushed past me an' slammed downstairs and out of the front door, an' banged it after him."
The Coroner: "What did you do?"
Duke of D.: "I ran into my bedroom, which has a window over the conservatory, and shouted out to him not to be a silly fool. It was pourin' with rain and beastly cold. He didn't come back, so I told Fleming to leave the conservatory door open-in case he thought better of it-and went to bed."
The Coroner: "What explanation can you suggest for Cathcart's behaviour?"
Duke of D.: "None. I was simply staggered. But I think he must somehow have got wind of the letter, and knew the game was up."
The Coroner: "Did you mention the matter to anybody else?"
Duke of D.: "No. It wasn't pleasant, and I thought I'd better leave it till the morning."
The Coroner: "So you did nothing further in the matter?"
Duke of D.: "No. I didn't want to go out huntin' for the fellow. I was too angry. Besides, I thought he'd change his mind before long-it was a brute of a night and he'd only a dinner-jacket."
The Coroner: "Then you just went quietly to bed and never saw deceased again?"
Duke of D.: "Not till I fell over him outside the conservatory at three in the morning."
The Coroner: "Ah yes. Now can you tell us how you came to be out of doors at that time?"
Duke of D. (hesitating): "I didn't sleep well. I went out for a stroll."
The Coroner: "At three o'clock in the morning?"
Duke of D.: "Yes." With sudden inspiration; "You see, my wife's away." (Laughter and some remarks from the back of the room.)
The Coroner: "Silence, please… You mean to say that you got up at that hour of an October night to take a walk in the garden in the pouring rain?"
Duke of D.: "Yes, just a stroll." (Laughter.)
The Coroner: "At what time did you leave your bedroom?"
Duke of D.: "Oh-oh, about half-past two, I should say."
The Coroner: "Which way did you go out?"
Duke of D.: "By the conservatory door."
The Coroner: "The body was not there when you went out?"
Duke of D.: "Oh, no!"
The Coroner: "Or you would have seen it?"
Duke of D.: "Lord, yes! I'd have had to walk over it."
The Coroner: "Exactly where did you go?"
Duke of D. (vaguely): "Oh, just round about."
The Coroner: "You heard no shot?"
Duke of D.: "No."
The Coroner: "Did you go far away from the conservatory door and the shrubbery?"
Duke of D.: "Well-I was some way away. Perhaps that's why I didn't hear anything. It must have been."
The Coroner: "Were you as much as a quarter of a mile away?"
Duke of D.: "I should think I was-oh, yes, quite!"
The Coroner: "More than a quarter of a mile away?"
Duke of D.: "Possibly. I walked about briskly because it was cold."
The Coroner: "In which direction?"
Duke of D. (with visible hesitation): "Round at the back of the house. Towards the bowling-green."
The Coroner: "The bowling-green?"
Duke of D. (more confidently): "Yes."
The Coroner: "But if you were more than a quarter of a mile away, you must have left the grounds?"
Duke of D.: "I-oh, yes-I think I did. Yes, I walked about on the moor a bit, you know."
The Coroner: "Can you show us the letter you had from Mr. Freeborn?"
Duke of D.: "Oh, certainly-if I can find it. I thought I put it in my pocket, but I couldn't find it for that Scotland Yard fellow."
The Coroner: "Can you have accidentally destroyed it?"
Duke of D.: "No-I'm sure I remember putting it- Oh"-here the witness paused in very patent confusion, and grew red-"I remember now. I destroyed it."
The Coroner: "That is unfortunate. How was that?"
Duke of D.: "I had forgotten; it has come back to me now. I'm afraid it has gone for good."
The Coroner: "Perhaps you kept the envelope?"
Witness shook his head.
The Coroner: "Then you can show the jury no proof of having received it?"
Duke of D.: "Not unless Fleming remembers it."
The Coroner: "Ah, yes! No doubt we can check it that way. Thank you, your grace. Call Lady Mary Wimsey."
The noble lady, who was, until the tragic morning of October 14th, the fiancée of the deceased, aroused a murmur of sympathy on her appearance. Fair and slender, her naturally rose-pink cheeks ashy pale, she seemed overwhelmed with grief. She was dressed entirely in black, and gave her evidence in a very low tone which was at times almost inaudible.
After expressing his sympathy, the Coroner asked, "How long had you been engaged to the deceased?"
Witness: "About eight months."
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