Helen Vardon's confession
twice and could hear them talking.”
“Could you hear what they were talking about?”
“I could hear a few words now and then. When I went into the
living-room the first time they seemed to be talking about suicide. I
heard Mr. Otway say something about a peg on the wall.”
“And when you went in the second time?”
“They seemed still to be talking about suicide. I heard Mrs. Otway ask
deceased what drove his brother to hang himself.”
“You heard nothing suggesting a quarrel or disagreement?”
“No. They seemed to be talking in quite a friendly way.”
“Do you know what kind of terms they were on?”
“No. I never saw them together before except for a few minutes on the
wedding day.”
“You spoke of a visitor who came to deceased earlier in the evening.
Who was that visitor?”
“A Mrs. Campbell. Her husband is a jeweller and curio-dealer whom
deceased had known for a good many years, and used to have business
dealings with. I understand she came on business and she only stayed
about ten minutes.”
“Is that all you know about the case?”
“Yes, I think I have told you all I know about it.”
The coroner glanced at the jury. “Do any of you, gentlemen, wish to
ask the witness any questions?” he enquired.
Apparently none of them did, and when the coroner had complimented
Mrs. Gregg on the clear manner in which she had given her evidence,
she was dismissed.
There was a short interval in which the coroner read over his notes
and the jury conferred together in low undertones. Then the coroner
observed: “We had better dispose of the police and medical evidence as
they are merely formal and will not take much time. We will begin with
the constable.”
The policeman was then called and briefly corroborated Mrs. Gregg’s
evidence. When he had finished, the doctor, whom he had brought to the
chambers, took his place, and having been duly sworn deposed as
follows:
“My name is John Shelburn. I am a member of the Royal College of
Surgeons and a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians, and am
acting as _locum tenens_ for the police surgeon of Saint Clement
Danes. At seven twenty-eight a.m., on Thursday, the 19th of October, I
was summoned by the last witness to accompany him to Lyon’s Inn
Chambers, where a man was reported to have hanged himself. I went with
the constable to a set of chambers, over the door of which was painted
the name of Mr. Lewis Otway. I went into the bedroom where the gas was
alight, the blinds down and the curtains drawn. There, lying on the
floor near the wall, I found the dead body of a tall, heavily built
man, about fifty or fifty-five years of age, dressed in a suit of
pyjamas. The surface of the body was cold and _rigor mortis_ was well
established. I should say the man had been dead about eight hours.
Around the neck was a double loop of red bell-rope and a portion of
the same was hanging from a large peg on the wall about seven feet
from the floor. The rope had apparently been cut down for the purpose
as a portion was still attached to the bell-wire and the severed
tassel lay on the bed, on which were impressions of feet, as if
someone had stood on the bed to cut it off. The length of rope had
been joined at the ends with the kind of knot known as a ‘granny’ and
formed into what is known as a weaver’s loop, which had been passed
over the head and the standing part of the rope hitched over the peg.
This would form a running loop, like this”--here the witness produced
a piece of thick string and demonstrated the arrangement on his thumb
and the knob of a chair-back.
“I released the double loop from the neck and found a shallow groove
on the throat corresponding to the rope. The countenance of the
deceased was calm--as it usually is in cases of hanging--and there
were no signs of violence or anything remarkable about the body. A
chair, on which the deceased had apparently stood to adjust the rope
on the peg, was lying close by and near to it on the floor was a
lady’s hand-bag. The rope had been cut with some sharp
instrument--probably a razor, as I was informed by the housekeeper. I
looked round the room but saw nothing of any significance excepting a
half-empty whisky decanter and a nearly-full bottle of veronal tablets
on a table by the bed.”
“Can you tell us at what time death took place?”
“Only approximately. I have said that the man appeared to have been
dead about eight hours. That would give us eleven o’clock on the night
of the 18th as the time at which death occurred. But I will not bind
myself to that time exactly. It might have been an hour earlier or
later.”
“After hearing your evidence and that of the other witnesses which you
have also heard, it is a mere formality to ask your opinion as to the
cause of death.”
“Yes. The cause of death was obviously suicidal hanging.”
This concluded the surgeon’s evidence, and when he had been dismissed,
the coroner turned to the jury.
“We have now, gentlemen,” said he, “established the fact of death and
its immediate cause. Our next investigation will seek to establish the
contributory circumstances--the more remote causes. We have
ascertained that this unfortunate man committed suicide. The question
that we now have to consider is, Why did he commit suicide? Possibly
the evidence of his widow may help us to answer that question. Helen
Otway.”
As I rose to take my place at the table I was dimly aware of a certain
ill-defined movement on the part of the jury and the spectators such
as one may notice in a church at the conclusion of a sermon. But in
the present case the cause was evidently a concentration rather than a
relaxation of attention. Clearly, my evidence was anticipated with
considerable interest.
“Your name is----?”
“Helen Otway. My age is twenty-four and I live at 69, Wellclose
Square.”
“Have you viewed and do you identify the body now lying in St.
Clement’s mortuary?”
“Yes; it is the body of Lewis Otway, my late husband.”
“When did you last see the deceased alive?”
“On the night of Wednesday, the 18th of October.”
“Tell us, please, what took place on that occasion.”
“I went to see deceased in consequence of a letter that I had received
from him asking me to do so. I arrived at about half-past six and was
informed by Mrs. Gregg that deceased was expecting another visitor.”
“Did you know who that other visitor was?”
“No; but as I went down the stairs I met Mrs. Campbell coming up and
assumed that she was the visitor.”
“You know Mrs. Campbell, then?”
“Only by sight. I have seen her in her husband’s shop. Mrs. Gregg
asked me to call again at eight, and I agreed to do so, and did so. I
was then admitted by Mrs. Gregg, who conducted me to the bedroom and
left me there, shutting the door as she went out. I did not see her
again that night. Deceased was in bed and had by his side a table on
which were a spirit decanter, a siphon of soda water, a box of
cigarettes, a bottle of veronal tablets and a deed-box.”
“Did you notice anything peculiar in his appearance?”
“No. He was not looking well, but he seemed less ill than I had
expected from his letter; which conveyed the impression that he was in
a dangerous condition.”
“Have you got that letter?”
“Yes,” I replied, “I have it here.” As I spoke, I drew the letter from
my pocket and handed it to the coroner, who glanced through it and
then laid it down with some other papers.
“We will consider this letter,” said he, “with the others that you
have handed to me, later. Will you now tell us what passed between you
and the deceased?”
“At first we talked about an anonymous letter that he had received a
day or two previously. He showed me the letter, and when I had read
it, he locked it in the deed-box.”
“We will deal with the anonymous letters presently. What else did you
talk about?”
“Deceased repeated the statement that he had made in the letter, that
he did not expect to live much longer. I asked him if he had any
reason for saying this and he then told me that there was a strong
family predisposition to suicide; that his brother, his mother and his
mother’s father had all hanged themselves, and that since he had
received the anonymous letters he had been conscious of an impulse to
make away with himself in the same manner.”
“Had you not known previously of this family tendency?”
“No. He had never mentioned it before, and I knew nothing of his
family.”
“Did deceased speak as if he actually intended to make away with
himself?”
“No, but he spoke of an impulse which he found it difficult to resist;
and he mentioned that a large peg on the bedroom wall seemed to
fascinate him and to make the impulse stronger. I advised him to have
it taken away.”
“Previous to this conversation, had you ever thought it possible that
the deceased might commit suicide?”
“No; the possibility never entered my mind.”
The coroner considered these replies and made a few further notes;
then he proceeded to open a fresh subject.
“Now, Mrs. Otway, with regard to your relations with deceased. Were
you on friendly terms with him?”
“Not particularly. We were practically strangers.”
“A witness has stated that you refused to live with deceased and that
you never had lived with him. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is quite true.”
“Had you quarrelled with deceased?”
“No, there was no quarrel. Our marriage was a business transaction and
immediately after the ceremony I discovered that my consent had been
obtained, as I considered, by misrepresentation.”
“We don’t want to be inquisitive, Mrs. Otway, but we wish to
understand the position. Could you give us a few more particulars?”
“Do you wish me to describe the circumstances of my marriage and the
separation from my husband?”
“If you please.”
“My marriage with Mr. Lewis Otway took place under the following
circumstances: I accidentally overheard a portion of a conversation
between Mr. Otway and my father from which I gathered that Mr. Otway
claimed the immediate payment of five thousand pounds held by my
father--who was a solicitor--in trust. It appeared from the
conversation that my father was unable immediately to produce the
money, and Mr. Otway threatened to take criminal proceedings for
misappropriation of trust funds. To this my father made no very
definite reply. Then Mr. Otway offered to abstain from any proceedings
and to allow the claim to remain in abeyance on condition that a
marriage should take place between him and me. This my father refused
very emphatically and angrily, and Mr. Otway left our house.
“Being greatly alarmed on my father’s account, I communicated with Mr.
Otway and informed him that I was prepared to accept his offer on the
terms stated--namely, that he should release my father from the
immediate claim and secure him from any proceedings in connection with
it. Mr. Otway accepted the conditions, and as it was certain that my
father would strongly object, we agreed not to inform him until after
the marriage had taken place.
“In accordance with this arrangement we were married privately on the
25th April of the present year and we went together from the church to
Mr. Otway’s house. I had left a letter for my father informing him of
what had been done, and very shortly after our return from the church
he came to the house. From an upper window I saw him enter the garden
and I was very much alarmed at his appearance. I had heard that he
suffered from a complaint of the heart and had been warned against
undue excitement and exertion, and I could see that he was extremely
excited and was looking very ill. Mr. Otway let him in and, in answer
to a question, admitted that the marriage had taken place. Then I
heard my father ask Mr. Otway if he had told me about a letter that