That Affair Next Door. Green Anna Katharine
was perfectly at home in them. Surveying the Coroner with a respectful air, he turned slowly towards the jury and answered in a slow and impressive manner:
"I feel ready to declare, sirs, that none of them did. She was not killed by the falling of the cabinet upon her."
"Not killed by the falling shelves! Why not? Were they not sufficiently heavy, or did they not strike her in a vital place?"
"They were heavy enough, and they struck her in a way to kill her if she had not been already dead when they fell upon her. As it was, they simply bruised a body from which life had already departed."
As this was putting it very plainly, many of the crowd who had not been acquainted with these facts previously, showed their interest in a very unmistakable manner; but the Coroner, ignoring these symptoms of growing excitement, hastened to say:
"This is a very serious statement you are making, doctor. If she did not die from the wounds inflicted by the objects which fell upon her, from what cause did she die? Can you say that her death was a natural one, and that the falling of the shelves was merely an unhappy accident following it?"
"No, sir; her death was not natural. She was killed, but not by the falling cabinet."
"Killed, and not by the cabinet? How then? Was there any other wound upon her which you regard as mortal?"
"Yes, sir. Suspecting that she had perished from other means than appeared, I made a most rigid examination of her body, when I discovered under the hair in the nape of the neck, a minute spot, which, upon probing, I found to be the end of a small, thin point of steel. It had been thrust by a careful hand into the most vulnerable part of the body, and death must have ensued at once."
This was too much for certain excitable persons present, and a momentary disturbance arose, which, however, was nothing to that in my own breast.
So! so! it was her neck that had been pierced, and not her heart. Mr. Gryce had allowed us to think it was the latter, but it was not this fact which stupefied me, but the skill and diabolical coolness of the man who had inflicted this death-thrust.
After order had been restored, which I will say was very soon, the Coroner, with an added gravity of tone, went on with his questions:
"Did you recognize this bit of steel as belonging to any instrument in the medical profession?"
"No; it was of too untempered steel to have been manufactured for any thrusting or cutting purposes. It was of the commonest kind, and had broken short off in the wound. It was the end only that I found."
"Have you this end with you,—the point, I mean, which you found imbedded at the base of the dead woman's brain?"
"I have, sir"; and he handed it over to the jury. As they passed it along, the Coroner remarked:
"Later we will show you the remaining portion of this instrument of death," which did not tend to allay the general excitement. Seeing this, the Coroner humored the growing interest by pushing on his inquiries.
"Doctor," he asked, "are you prepared to say how long a time elapsed between the infliction of this fatal wound and those which disfigured her?"
"No, sir, not exactly; but some little time."
Some little time, when the murderer was in the house only ten minutes! All looked their surprise, and, as if the Coroner had divined this feeling of general curiosity, he leaned forward and emphatically repeated:
"More than ten minutes?"
The doctor, who had every appearance of realizing the importance of his reply, did not hesitate. Evidently his mind was quite made up.
"Yes; more than ten minutes."
This was the shock I received from his testimony.
I remembered what the clock had revealed to me, but I did not move a muscle of my face. I was learning self-control under these repeated surprises.
"This is an unexpected statement," remarked the Coroner. "What reasons have you to urge in explanation of it?"
"Very simple and very well known ones; at least, among the profession. There was too little blood seen, for the wounds to have been inflicted before death or within a few minutes after it. Had the woman been living when they were made, or even had she been but a short time dead, the floor would have been deluged with the blood gushing from so many and such serious injuries. But the effusion was slight, so slight that I noticed it at once, and came to the conclusions mentioned before I found the mark of the stab that occasioned death."
"I see, I see! And was that the reason you called in two neighboring physicians to view the body before it was removed from the house?"
"Yes, sir; in so important a matter, I wished to have my judgment confirmed."
"And these physicians were–"
"Dr. Campbell, of 110 East – Street, and Dr. Jacobs, of – Lexington Avenue."
"Are these gentlemen here?" inquired the Coroner of an officer who stood near.
"They are, sir."
"Very good; we will now proceed to ask one or two more questions of this witness. You told us that even had the woman been but a few minutes dead when she received these contusions, the floor would have been more or less deluged by her blood. What reason have you for this statement?"
"This; that in a few minutes, let us say ten, since that number has been used, the body has not had time to cool, nor have the blood-vessels had sufficient opportunity to stiffen so as to prevent the free effusion of blood."
"Is a body still warm at ten minutes after death?"
"It is."
"So that your conclusions are logical deductions from well-known facts?"
"Certainly, sir."
A pause of some duration followed.
When the Coroner again proceeded, it was to remark:
"The case is complicated by these discoveries; but we must not allow ourselves to be daunted by them. Let me ask you, if you found any marks upon this body which might aid in its identification?"
"One; a slight scar on the left ankle."
"What kind of a scar? Describe it."
"It was such as a burn might leave. In shape it was long and narrow, and it ran up the limb from the ankle-bone."
"Was it on the right foot?"
"No; on the left."
"Did you call the attention of any one to this mark during or after your examination?"
"Yes; I showed it to Mr. Gryce the detective, and to my two coadjutors; and I spoke of it to Mr. Howard Van Burnam, son of the gentleman in whose house the body was found."
It was the first time this young gentleman's name had been mentioned, and it made my blood run cold to see how many side-long looks and expressive shrugs it caused in the motley assemblage. But I had no time for sentiment; the inquiry was growing too interesting.
"And why," asked the Coroner, "did you mention it to this young man in preference to others?"
"Because Mr. Gryce requested me to. Because the family as well as the young man himself had evinced some apprehension lest the deceased might prove to be his missing wife, and this seemed a likely way to settle the question."
"And did it? Did he acknowledge it to be a mark he remembered to have seen on his wife?"
"He said she had such a scar, but he would not acknowledge the deceased to be his wife."
"Did he see the scar?"
"No; he would not look at it."
"Did you invite him to?"
"I did; but he showed no curiosity."
Doubtless thinking that silence would best emphasize this fact, which certainly was an astonishing one, the Coroner waited a minute. But there was no silence. An indescribable murmur from a great many lips filled up the gap. I felt a movement of pity for the proud family whose good name was thus threatened in the person