The Queen Against Owen. Upward Allen
is no further evidence as to what occurred that night.
‘In the morning the housemaid Lucy was the first down, as was usually the case. She found the hall door locked and bolted, as the butler left it at half-past ten the night before.
‘One of the household, therefore, must have been out, and returned after the witness Rebecca had gone back to her room.
‘Putting these facts together, it is clear that the only possible authors of the crime subsequently discovered must have been the butler, who had a latchkey, and prisoner.
‘At eight o’clock the witness Rebecca came down and took two jugs of hot water to the ladies’ doors. She knocked at each. She heard a faint reply from prisoner, but none from deceased’s room.
‘At half-past eight prisoner usually came down, and deceased was generally seen a few minutes after.
‘On this morning, the second of June, neither of them had appeared by nine o’clock.
‘The witness Rebecca then remembered that Miss Lewis had not answered when called, and feared that she had failed to waken her. She therefore went upstairs and knocked again.
‘There was no answer. Becoming alarmed, because her mistress was old and had once suffered from some seizure, she went to Miss Owen’s door and knocked impatiently.
‘Prisoner at once came and opened it. She was completely dressed, and apparently ready to come down.
‘The following conversation, or something near it, then took place:
‘The witness Rebecca began by saying that she had knocked at Miss Lewis’s door, but could get no answer. “Do you know if any thing’s the matter?” she said.
‘Prisoner heard her without any appearance of surprise, and merely answered:
‘“No; we had better call to her, and if she doesn’t answer, I’ll go in.”
‘They then went together to the door on the landing, and prisoner called out loudly: “Miss Lewis! May I come in?”
‘There was again no answer. Prisoner then put her hand to the door and turned the handle. The door, however, would not open. It was locked, and the key was inside.
‘The only possible access, therefore, was through prisoner’s own room.
‘It is unnecessary to draw counsel’s attention to the gravity of this circumstance.’
(‘Quite unnecessary,’ said Prescott sarcastically to himself. ‘Bless my soul, how he piles on the agony!’)
‘By this time the other servants in the house had taken the alarm. The butler, John Simons, came on the scene, followed by the cook and housemaid. It was he who now addressed prisoner:
‘“We must get in through your room, miss,” he said.
‘It may be well to state here that Simons had lived with the deceased for fifteen years, and was greatly trusted.
‘He now went straight into prisoner’s bedroom. Prisoner now seemed thoroughly alarmed, and ran in after him, the three women coming next.
‘As he was about to take hold of the handle of the door opening into Miss Lewis’s room, he suddenly beheld a sight that made him reel back. This was a smear of blood on the china handle. The witness Rebecca caught sight of it at the same time, and uttered a loud scream.
‘No one noticed the demeanour of the prisoner at the moment of this discovery. But when they had recovered sufficiently to take notice, she was leaning against a chest of drawers, deathly pale.’
(‘Confound the man!’ exclaimed the reader, as he came to this sentence. ‘How he does go on against her! It’s enough to make me think her innocent. Poor little Eleanor! It’s five years since I saw her. She was a pretty little thing of fifteen then. I wonder what sort of woman she has turned out. Well, well, I must stick to business.’)
‘Simons quickly recovered his presence of mind. Taking hold of the handle so as to avoid touching the smear, he burst open the door, and rushed in towards the bed.
‘The bed was empty.
‘It seemed to have been slept in the night before, and the clothes were not much disarranged; but on the lower sheet, close to the bolster, was a large stain of blood.
‘The stain was about the size of a cheese-plate, dark in the centre, and fainter round the edge. There was no other trace of violence.
‘The room was then searched. All present took part in the search except prisoner, who sat in a chair looking on.
‘Deceased’s clothes, worn by her the day before, were found in their proper places, thus negativing the idea that she could have gone away herself. Her nightdress, on the other hand, was missing. This would point to the prisoner’s having killed her in her sleep and disposed of the body as it was.
‘No further trace of violence was discovered in the room. The butler then got them all out, and locked both doors on the outside. He then went for the police.
‘This was about half-past nine. On his way to the police-station he met Mr. Lewis, deceased’s nephew. He stopped him and related the circumstances.
‘Mr. Lewis was greatly upset. As soon as he was able to speak he pointed out that the only possible author of the crime was Miss Owen. He turned and accompanied Simons to the police-station.
‘At the police-station they found Sergeant James Evans. To him Simons detailed the incidents already described. Mr. Lewis then stepped forward and said:
‘“I charge Eleanor Owen with the murder of my aunt, Ann Elizabeth Lewis. I have made some money, and, please God, I’ll spend every penny of it rather than my poor aunt shall remain unavenged.”’
(‘All this is not evidence,’ muttered the barrister, impatiently scoring out the paragraph with his pencil. ‘Why does Pollard put in things like this? Perhaps it supplies a clue, though, to his enthusiasm,’ added Mr. Prescott thoughtfully. ‘I dare say he’s got this Lewis behind him, and is bleeding him pretty freely. That accounts for the figures on my brief, so I oughtn’t to complain. But I wish to goodness it were anybody but old Owen’s daughter. Why, I can remember kissing her when she was only six years old.’)
‘Sergeant Evans, who will be called as a witness, now proceeded to the house and made a thorough search. Two important facts were now discovered.
‘The butler had left the house by the back door, but on returning with Mr. Lewis the party entered by the front. Simons stepped forward with his latchkey to open the door, but found the latch already lifted, and stuck fast in its raised position.
‘This was a thing which always occurred if the latch was lifted too high. The keyhole is shaped like an inverted T, and the members of the household who carried keys were generally careful not to push them too far upward, lest this result should occur.
‘Counsel will probably be inclined to see a sufficient explanation of the incident in the agitation and haste by which a criminal would naturally be overcome just after the commission of such a crime.’
(‘Yes; I suppose so.’ The barrister paused for some time, knitted his brows, and tried to think the matter out. ‘Yes, it would be a natural result,’ he admitted at length, and resumed his reading.)
‘The next discovery was equally important.
‘Miss Lewis’s bedroom window looked over the front garden. Immediately below it, under the dining-room window, was a grating over a window, which gave light to an underground scullery. This grating was surrounded by a bed of shrubs, which concealed it from the eye of visitors.
‘Sergeant Evans’s first move was to proceed to this spot. He was rewarded by finding blood-stains on the grating. The nearest shrubs had been roughly handled, and some of their leaves lay scattered about.
‘The inference which counsel is asked to draw is that the body – or a portion of it – was lowered down through the window, and thence carried away.
‘This