They Return at Evening 10 – Wakefield · Library Across
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They Return at Evening 10An Echo
18
Literature · Short Stories
They Return at Evening 10
An Echo
WakefieldEnglish
AN ECHO
It was about a quarter past four on September 4th of last year that I knew, as I walked along a ride through Long Bottom Wood, that I was once again to be projected into a Fourth Dimension. I must explain, as well as I can, what I mean.
At irregular intervals I am compelled, though with extreme reluctance, to witness supernatural phenomena. Every haunted place seems longing to reveal its secret to me. There is a ghostly understanding between me and the Restless Ones. The experience I am about to relate was the fifty-sixth of its kind, and experts in this shadowy commerce tell me I am probably the most gifted clairvoyant known to the world.
They yield me this dubious palm for the certainty, precision and vividness of my recorded “successes.” For some time I tried to keep my dismal talent secret, but I betrayed it unconsciously far too often.
I regard this peculiarity of mine as a nuisance, often a profoundly disturbing nuisance. From none of my experiences have I gained anything of good, and as far as throwing light on the nature of this or any other world they seem utterly useless. I have called them “supernatural,” but they may be nothing of the kind; sometimes I doubt profoundly if they are.
As I say, I have no pride in my performances. I feel myself to be merely a peculiar kind of camera, the lens of which is sensitive to things to which an ordinary camera is insensitive.
The preliminary symptoms are always the same. Suddenly every sound, from the loudest to the softest, seems frozen in dreadful suspense. It is something more active than the mere absence of sound. Simultaneously everything is dimmed--a consistent toning down of every shade. It is as though I am gazing through one of those glasses used by artists when painting outdoors in too dazzling a light, and the world becomes sullen, brassy, livid. I feel that I am both within and without the bounds of reality, as though, as I have suggested, I have strayed into a fourth spacial dimension, a region dim, motionless, soundless. Once, when these first preliminary warnings came to me, I attempted to avoid seeing the vision I knew was coming, but it was in vain; some irresistible force compelled me to go through to the end--and now I never struggle.
The great love of my life is ornithology--to put it less pompously, I adore birds, and have written many articles and a few books about them. And this was the cause of my stay at Balland Manor, for its owner, Ronald Lawton, is an enthusiastic amateur, and had implored me to catalogue the birds on the estate. He and his wife were abroad on this occasion, so I had the house to myself, and very pleasant I found it. I had strolled out for an afternoon examination of the amazing nut-hatch colony in Long Bottom, when, just as I reached the last turn in the ride, there came that silence and that dimming, and I knew that round the corner something was waiting to reveal itself to me. It was there. Some eighty yards ahead of me a man was walking in the same direction as myself. He had a gun under his arm. Suddenly he stopped, looked first to his right and then to his left: as he did so a woman came out a little way from the trees and raised her arm to the level of her shoulder. The man turned to his right again, and then threw up his arms and fell. Then the woman ran out, picked up his gun, held it poised for a moment, dropped it again, and then stepped back to the shelter of the trees. As she did so she paused for a moment and then disappeared. Then the veil came down, rose again, and the birds were singing, the sun shining, and it was over and all trace of it was gone.
I turned at once and went back to the house. These experiences always distress me, and I feel nervous and depressed for some time afterwards. But the period varies; sometimes their memory speedily becomes blurred; sometimes the vividness lingers. It lingered on this occasion. I knew that I had witnessed some tragedy of the past, for these records are infallible, and in spite of my repulsion I felt a certain interest concerning it. I have said that I hate these manifestations; at the same time I must confess I sometimes feel a certain sense of curiosity.
I had never felt this curiosity so strongly on any previous appearance. So I left Balland the next morning, and in the evening went round to call upon a very old friend, Jim Myers, who, besides being an artist of very considerable and growing repute, is a fanatical criminologist. He greatly respects my singular gift.
“Hullo, Robert,” said he, “I can see you’ve had another attack. It’s curious, but your personality seems to echo them for days after.”
“I believe,” I replied, “I have seen the ghost of a murder, and that’s why I’ve come to you.”
“Tell me.”
When I had finished I could see he was highly excited.
“It sounds marvellously like--where did you see this?”
“At a place called Balland Manor, near----”
But Jim had leapt to his feet. “My God, it is! it’s the fifteenth anniversary, too. You mean to say you didn’t remember and recognise it at once?”
“Remember what? Recognise what?” I asked.
“You’re incredible, Robert. Do you mean to say you’ve never heard of the Balland Mystery?”
“I don’t think so; I take no interest in those things.”
“Well, I’m damned! Let me tell you, you’ve had the amazing experience of seeing solved before your eyes one of the greatest murder puzzles of all time.” He went to a shelf and took down a book. “Here it is, a classic of the Great Trials series. I’ve read it a dozen times, and puzzled and wondered. Now, partly for my own amusement--for I love talking murder--and partly to show you what an absolutely marvellous and mysterious person you are, I’ll tell you the story.
“Richard Eagles was at Univ. with me. He was a flabby animal of no marked attractions, and lots too much money. He was an orphan, and at twenty-one came into the Barton Estate, amongst a number of other very pleasant things.
“He was by no means a genius where men were concerned, and about women he was a complete ass. He wasn’t what we mean by a womaniser exactly, but he had a mania for being seen about with female celebrities of the lighter sort. Most of them spent his money avidly, but he had a streak of caution inherited from his very able father, and, as he was a bore into the bargain, he was forced to change his partner pretty frequently. These ladies pretended to like him at first, but made him realise that ‘that little more and what worlds away’ was only to be obtained via a Registrar’s Office; but Richard was not the marrying sort; the streak of caution saved him, and he disappointed them one by one. It used to be quite a joke in the old days, for these so jealously guarded charms were often surprisingly surrendered by their fair owners, and even I remember being present at a capitulation or two. Acquit me of boasting. Like you, Robert, I have reached the age when one is visited neither by pangs of conscience nor gusts of vanity by the remembrance of successful indiscretion; at an age, in other words, when emotions of that genre are recollected with tranquility.
“Eventually, probably inevitably, however, he got caught, and one ill-omened evening he was introduced to Miss Patty Golden at the Regent Night Club, where she was the professional dancer.
“All that could be known about this young person’s antecedents and mode of life came out at the trial. Both her mother and father, who had kept a small shop at Luton, were dead. Apparently they had been completely commonplace individuals, but by some Mendelian miracle they had produced between them one of the most fascinating human animals on whom it has been my, or anybody else’s, luck to cast an eye. I tell you frankly that, if she had gone for me, I would have gone to the devil for her myself.
“Her hair was a most shining auburn, her eyes large, violet sirens, her figure delicious--at least by the standards of those times, and they are still mine. But hosts of damsels can display such charms more or less; what they don’t possess is the amazing vitality, sparkle and ‘devil’ which Patty had more than any woman I have ever known.
“That she was a completely immoral little ‘gold-digger’ was apparent at a glance, but it was not generally realised till the trial that she was utterly vicious, and perhaps something more; but her personal fascination was such that men could not resist her, even though they realised perfectly she was a soulless little tough, out for money and for nothing else.
“When Richard met her she was living with a blackguard called Mason, a man of good family, but born with a seed of evil in him which had flowered freely. He was the leader and brains of a gang who made it their highly lucrative business to complete the education of young gentlemen with money. And brilliantly led as they were, they succeeded in ruining more than one, fleecing dozens, and dodging Scotland Yard. Patty was one of the cleverest and toughest of the bunch, and, as a dancer at a fashionable night club, she occupied an admirable strategic position. Richard was a rich prize. Patty, who had planned the introduction, mobilised all her powers, and he was immediately overwhelmed. They became inseparable. Richard’s infatuation made him an abject, drivelling serf, and there is no doubt he bored her to screaming point, and I am certain she resolved to make a quick job of it. But while she could get plenty of small sums and unlimited entertainment out of him, that saving streak of caution stopped him from signing any big cheques, and it was the big cheques she was after. Eventually, there is no doubt, though it was disputed at the trial, she forced him to make a will leaving her £30,000. She claimed in the box that he had done this unknown to her and that she was expecting to marry him.
“By this time Richard’s friends--and he had a few decent ones--were warning him very vigorously about the character of the object of his devotion, and one of them at the trial stated that Richard had sworn to him he would never marry her, and would do his best to conquer his infatuation.
“Well, this will was signed on August 25th, and on September 2nd Patty and her ‘chaperone,’ an elderly shark, also, of course, a member of the gang, and Richard went down to Balland for the week-end. On the Monday afternoon, the 4th, your day, Robert, the two went out, leaving the shark to her ‘knitting,’ Richard carrying a gun, and walked in the direction of Long Bottom. About half an hour after, a shot or two shots--testimony at the trial differed--were heard, and a little later Patty came running back to the house, apparently in a great state of agitation, saying that Richard had stumbled and as he fell his gun had gone off, and he was lying in the ride dead. According to her story she had been walking behind him, and had not seen very clearly how the tragedy occurred.
“At the inquest she repeated her story, and the local doctor, who obviously and naturally believed her, gave evidence which decided the jury unhesitatingly to bring in a verdict of ‘Accidental death.’ And that might have been the end of the story but for the fact that Sir Rex Moore, the greatest expert on head wounds in the world, had read the very full description the local doctor had given of the injuries to Richard’s head, and considered it his duty to write to Scotland Yard, stating that in his opinion it was impossible for the injuries described to have been caused by a gunshot wound, even if fired at the closest range. About the same time it came to the knowledge of the Yard that the only witness of the tragedy had been someone who was going to benefit to the tune of £30,000 by it, and, moreover, that this person was one to whom their attention had been drawn on more than one occasion. By a coincidence, about the same time they succeeded at last in running Mason to earth for an ingenious fraud, rather luckily discovered. Amongst his papers was found a letter which, combined with the other suspicious circumstances, led to the arrest of Patty for murder. Incidentally the police relied enormously on the evidence of Sir Rex, which he had formulated in great detail.
“Richard’s body was exhumed and examined by Sir Rex and the expert medical witnesses for the defence.
“The trial began on November 10th at the Old Bailey, and stirred the interest of the public more than any murder trial of the century. So like you, Robert, not to have heard of it!
“The Attorney-General led for the Crown and Sir Leonard Venables, K.C., for the defence. As I don’t suppose you have heard of him either, I may say he was the greatest verdict-getter who ever wore a wig. His florid, fruity style exactly suited a jury. His voice was beautifully musical and persuasive, and he used it like an artist. Altogether, he commanded gifts as a pleader which more than one guilty murderer had cause to bless.
“Patty’s sojourn in prison had not damaged her looks. She was more beautiful than I had ever seen her, and seemed full of confidence and fight.
“The two strongest cards the prosecution had to play were the evidence of Sir Rex and the letter found in Mason’s flat.
“The surgeon was examined and cross-examined at great length. Most of his evidence is meaningless to a layman, but he held unswervingly to his opinion that the injuries to the head could not have been caused by a gunshot, but were certainly the result of a rifle or revolver bullet which had glanced off after striking. He stated that his examination at the autopsy had more than supported his early suspicions. The only admission useful to it which the defence could extract from him was that decomposition had set in strongly by the time the body was exhumed. With regard to the letter, the prosecution merely proved its discovery at Mason’s flat and that it was in the handwriting of the accused. It ran as follows:
Sept. 7th. Balland Manor, Bucks.
“Dear Tim,
“The agreement all along was for you to get a third and I see no reason to change it. It will be some time before I get anything, and anyway practically the whole risk was mine. I have to stay here till after the inquest. I believe everything will be O.K. But don’t ask for more, you won’t get it. ‘P.’
“The first witness for the defence was a famous hospital surgeon, who was shown to have had wide experience of shooting cases. He had taken part in the examination of the body, and declared that in his opinion the injuries might have been caused by a shotgun in the manner described by the prisoner, but that all possibility of giving a categorical answer was destroyed by the fact that decomposition had proceeded so far.
“Briefly and non-technically the whole point lay in whether the injuries were the result of a glancing blow from a charge of shot or a glancing blow from a bullet--in either case fired at point-blank range. All this would remind you, had you read of it, Robert, of that matchless mystery, the Ardlamont Case.
“This witness was examined and cross-examined for a full two hours, and searching questions were volleyed at him. Near the end he was beginning to give ground, but he just held out to the end, and regained some of his confidence in re-examination.
“A curious piece of evidence was then brought forward by the defence. It was that of a local farmer, who stated that about two hours after the tragedy he found one of his sheep dead in the field, and he found on examining it several pellets in its head. It was lying exactly opposite the spot where the body had been found, and it was proved that the trees in between were heavily marked by pellet scars, showing that a charge had been fired from the ride, through the trees, to the sheep. Do you remember, Robert, seeing her pick up his gun?
“Then came the question of the hypothetical revolver. The police were closely examined as to their efforts to find it. They confessed they had searched the whole terrain in the neighbourhood of the tragedy, but had discovered nothing, and there was no evidence to show that Patty ever had a revolver in her possession, either before or after the affair.
“Then Sir Leonard took his courage into both hands, and Patty stepped into the box to give evidence on her own behalf, the first woman to avail herself of that dubious privilege since the passing of the Act.
“She was marvellously composed, and under her counsel’s tactful handling gave a consistent and coherent account of her relations with Richard and the events of the fatal day.
“Eventually he came to the letter. Of course the two dangerous sentences were, ‘Anyway I took practically all the risk,’ and ‘I think everything will be O.K.’ She explained that by ‘risk’ she meant the risk of Richard not marrying her after all her trouble. ‘Everything will be O.K.’ she said, referred to the possibility of the will being disputed.
“Sir Leonard did not question her very closely, preferring to wait for his re-examination.
“Then the Attorney-General rose, and that famous duel began. Patty gave him one of her indomitable looks as he asked her his first question. He went straight to the letter.
“‘I take it there was an agreement between you and this man Mason by which you were to share any monies to be obtained from the dead man?’
“‘That is so.’
“‘How did you expect to obtain these monies?’
“‘Do you mean originally?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Well, he gave me money at times, but chiefly by my marriage with him.’
“‘Did you consider yourself engaged to him?’
“‘Informally, yes.’
“‘Informally? Do you mean that you knew he didn’t want to marry you, but that you were determined to force him to do so?’
“‘Certainly not. I believed he fully intended to marry me.’
“‘You have heard the evidence of a friend of his implying very strongly the contrary.’
“‘Yes, but Richard was rather weak and inclined to agree with the person he was with.’
“‘If you were certain he intended to marry, wherein lay the risk to which you refer?’
“(A pause.) ‘There was always a risk of the marriage not taking place.’
“‘Although you were convinced he intended it?’
“‘Yes, but certain things might have prevented it; his death has done so, as a matter of fact.’
“‘Did you regard his death as probable?’
“‘No, certainly not.’
“‘Did your agreement with this man cover any sums obtained in any way?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Sums obtained from the will?’
“‘Yes, all sums.’
“‘But you told us under examination that you did not know you were to benefit by his will?’
“(A pause.) ‘I didn’t know, but I suspected he might leave me a small amount.’
“‘But surely you had no reason to suspect that Mr. Eagles would die for forty or fifty years. Why should anything so problematical have formed part of your agreement with Mason?’
“‘The agreement covered all sums. I forget if we actually mentioned anything about a will.’
“‘Had you told Mason you suspected he had left you something?’
“‘I can’t remember, as I say. I don’t think so, but it’s possible.’
“‘You have told us that you did not encourage Mr. Eagles to leave you anything.’
“‘I did not.’
“‘Nor try to discover the amount?’
“‘No, it hardly interested me. I expected to marry him and have money settled on me.’
“‘Very well, we will leave that.’
“While the Attorney was looking through his papers Patty passed her handkerchief across her lips and forehead, and then set her teeth.
“‘You concluded your letter by saying, “I believe everything will be O.K.” Are you sure that doesn’t refer to the verdict at the inquest?’
“(Sharply.) ‘Yes, perfectly sure.’
“‘Then to what did it refer?’
“‘I have already said that it referred to the money I should get under the will.’
“‘Yet you weren’t sure you were to get a penny?’
“‘I can’t be sure, I thought the lawyer had told me.’
“‘You know he has denied that.’
“‘Yes, but he may be wrong.’
“‘But if he is right, you didn’t know you had inherited a penny?’
“‘I have told you I strongly suspected he had left me something.’
“‘If he had, why was there any doubt about your getting it?’
“‘I thought it might be disputed.’
“‘On what grounds?’
“‘Undue influence, I suppose.’
“‘Now I want to be fair to you. Do you seriously suggest that the Jury should believe that “It will be O.K.” referred, and referred only, to a legacy the very existence of which was unknown to you?’
“‘It is the truth; as I say, I believe the lawyer had told me about it.’
“Those are the salient passages,” said Myers, “but there was much else. Patty’s character disappeared beneath the rain of questions, but her reputation for pluck was never more convincingly justified.
“Her counsel in his re-examination set himself to counteract the very perilous impression left by these answers.
“‘Had you heard anything which made you realise there was a serious risk that your marriage would not take place?’
“‘I knew that people, enemies of mine, were warning Mr. Eagles about me.’
“‘And you were afraid he would act on their advice?’
“‘Yes, he had spoken to me about it.’
“‘About this legacy--had you good reasons for suspecting its existence?’
“‘Yes, Mr. Eagles frequently said he would see that I was provided for if anything happened to him.’
“‘When you referred to the risk, can you explain a little more clearly what was in your mind?’
“‘Well, I thought it might be disputed on the ground of undue influence--not that I have used any, but, as I have said, I have many enemies.’
“To understand the beauty--to criminologists--of this duel concerning the letter, the whole of Patty’s examination and cross-examination should be closely studied. For five long hours Patty’s life was hanging by a thread.
“Sir Leonard, in order to neutralise the deadly implications in her letter, had been compelled reluctantly to reveal that she had a very strong motive. If she knew of the legacy she had 30,000 good reasons for shooting Richard; if she was ignorant of it, that terrible word ‘risk’ could not be explained.
“In my opinion they were the five finest hours the Old Bailey has given us.
“When the Attorney-General got up to make his closing speech everyone felt it was touch and go. He was perfectly fair, but perfectly firm. The evidence he marshalled would have been deadly but for the conflict in the medical evidence and the absence of the revolver. He characterised Patty’s answers about the letter as incredible.
“Then Sir Leonard got up and made the speech of his life. He began with one of his most impressive exordia.
“‘Gentlemen of the Jury, the prisoner at the Bar is accused of murder. If she is found guilty of that foul crime she will meet in three weeks’ time a shameful, felon’s death. On my poor efforts depend her defence: on your verdict her liberty or death. Gentlemen, it is an awful responsibility that you and I must share.’
“He made no attempt to disguise the fact that his client was a hardened little scoundrel, but he impressed on the Jury how much more she had to gain, and gain in perfect safety, by marrying Richard than by taking the frightful risk entailed by murdering him. She would not have been the calculating little intriguer which she had shown herself, if she had failed to realise the inevitable suspicion which was bound to fall upon her when the terms of the will became known. People of her type did not commit murders, they steadily fleeced, and so great was the dead man’s infatuation she had every reason to believe she could force him to marry her, when she could fleece him to her heart’s content.
“So did he dismiss the question of motive.
“He emphasised the sharp and irreconcilable conflict in the medical evidence. Would the Jury ever know a moment’s peace if they sent her to the gallows when such doctors could disagree?
“He made much of the absence of the revolver, and--this will interest you, Robert--he asked how could the shot have been fired? The dead man was shot from the front at point-blank range. He must have stood stock still and calmly allowed the prisoner to blow his brains out. Was it conceivable?
“The letter of which the prosecution made so much was perfectly capable of bearing the construction the prisoner put upon it. In a peroration of majestic power he demanded that the prisoner be given the benefit of the doubt. ‘If she is guilty,’ he concluded, ‘she will not escape, for there is One Who knows all: Vengeance is His, He will repay!’
“The Judge’s summing up was quiet and eminently judicial. On the whole it inclined, and I think rightly, to the defence. The police had not made out their case.
“At length the Jury filed out, and Patty was taken out of Court, her eyes blazing with excitement, and two red stains flaming in her cheeks. The Jury were out for three and a half hours. It was known afterwards that two of them long held out for a verdict of guilty, but in the end gave way, and in a quivering silence the foreman pronounced ‘Not guilty,’ which would undoubtedly have been ‘Not proven’ in Scotland.
“And that, Robert, was the end of the ‘Balland Mystery’--till you took that afternoon stroll.”
“What happened to Patty?” I asked.
“She dodged the vast crowd awaiting her, and disappeared from the knowledge of men till two years later she was found dead from an overdose of cocaine in a Buenos Aires Hotel--she had been ‘White-slaving’ apparently. She made no attempt to get the £30,000, Richard’s next of kin winning the action for undue influence unopposed. Mason died in prison three years after the trial.”
“Now tell me again just exactly what you saw.”
I did so. When I had finished he said, “There was one little detail you mentioned that time which you didn’t mention before: you say she paused for a moment by a tree?”
“Yes, she just hesitated for a moment or two and then disappeared.”
“Look here,” said Myers, “this fascinates me. Could I come down with you and see the place?”
“Of course you can,” I said. “We can go to-morrow if you like.”
“We’ll go down in the car,” said Myers. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”
We lunched at the house, and then walked down to the scene of my vision. I pointed out to my highly excited companion the exact spot, and he regarded it reverently.
“Was this the tree?” he asked, pointing to a fine cedar.
“Yes,” I replied.
“And she paused just here?”
“Yes.”
Myers examined the trunk carefully, and then turned to me suddenly. “Look here,” he said, and he pointed to a hole of medium size about the level of his waist in the cedar.
“Good Lord!” he said, “I wonder! I wonder! Look here, run up to the house and see if you can find a strong knife, I want to get my arm into that hole.”
I eventually waylaid a gardener, who produced a knife, which I took back to Myers. He set to work, and after a few minutes he put down the knife, and with a look of extreme excitement on his face, thrust in his arm to the shoulder. “Empty!” he groaned. “No, by God! it’s not!” He drew up his arm. “Robert, you are the most wonderful man in the world. Do you know what I’ve got in my hand?”
He drew his hand clear of the hole and then opened it, and there was the neatest little Colt revolver. He jerked it open, and there were six cartridges, five unused, one used.
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