Helen Vardon's confession
accept Mrs. Otway’s statement, or whether it is more probable that she
took the stick to the chambers, and put it into the cupboard herself.
“We now come to the incidents of that terrible night. What really
happened in those chambers on that occasion will probably never be
known. But the accounts that we have are full of sinister suggestions.
We cannot, for instance, but note the fact that after this, the first
and only visit from his wife, Lewis Otway made away with himself. Why
he did the dreadful deed on this particular occasion, and at this
particular time, is not clear. According to his wife’s account he was
much calmer, and more cheerful after their talk, and she left him
peacefully asleep. That is what she has told us. But what are the
facts? Within an hour or two hours after she had left, his dead body
was hanging from that peg. Nay! There is even a more dreadful
possibility. The medical witness has told us that death took place
about eleven, ‘But it might have been an hour later or earlier.’ So
that it is physically possible--since Mrs. Otway left the chambers
about ten--that the suicide may have actually taken place before she
left. It is a horrible suggestion, and I should not have made it but
for the fact that there are certain appearances which seem to support
it.
“You must have been struck by the singular circumstance that when Mrs.
Otway took her departure she left the gas full on, and the bedroom
door open. You have heard her explanation, but we are not concerned
with that for the moment. The remarkable thing is that in the morning,
the gas was still full on, and the bedroom door still open. Now how
could that have been? If deceased was asleep when his wife left, then
he must have arisen, made his preparations, and finally hanged
himself, not only with the gas full on--which might easily have been
the case--but with the door open, which is improbable in the extreme.
Men do not usually commit suicide _coram publico_. Commonly suicides
lock themselves in their rooms or otherwise seek security from
interruption. Yet this man, whose bedroom opened directly into the
living-room and whose housekeeper might still have been about, cuts
down the bell-rope, arranges the chair and hangs himself, all in a
brightly-lighted room with the door open. It is certainly against
common probabilities.
“But there are other suggestions of a similar tendency. If the
fully-lighted gas and the open door suggest a hurried and agitated
departure, so does the forgotten hand-bag containing the purse. And
you will have noted that Mrs. Otway remembered that she had left her
purse behind when she hailed a cab at the corner of Holywell Street.
Now why did she not go back for it? She was quite near Lyon’s Inn. She
could have left the cab waiting, or brought it to the gate. She says
she did not like to disturb Mrs. Gregg. But she has also said that she
thought that Mrs. Gregg was still up and about. The explanation is not
convincing, but on the other hand there is a strong suggestion of
dislike to the idea of going back--a dislike which we can understand
well enough if we believe that the tragedy had already been enacted,
and that the body was even then hanging on the wall.
“Then, too, the disappearance of the precious stones points in the
same direction. They might have been taken when the deceased was
asleep; but the theft would have been far easier if he was dead. But,
of course, we cannot say with certainty that Helen Otway took the
stones. We can only consider the evidence. That evidence, however, is
almost overwhelmingly strong. It goes to show that the stones were in
the deed-box within half-an-hour of Helen Otway’s arrival. There is no
reason to suppose they were then removed. It is practically certain
that they were there when she arrived, and they were never seen there
or anywhere else after she left. And there is a further corroborative
circumstance. To ordinary persons unmounted precious stones illicitly
obtained are difficult to dispose of. But this woman is not an
ordinary person; she is a working goldsmith and jeweller who buys her
own materials and sells the finished works to individual buyers. She
could easily dispose of stolen gems in a manner that would render them
untraceable.
“The theft of these stones is not directly our business. It is that of
the police. But indirectly it is of great importance. For it furnishes
strong support to the suggestion that deceased was already dead when
Helen Otway took her hurried departure. But what is the importance of
that suggestion? The answer to that question will be found in the
consideration of certain further facts and certain points of criminal
law.
“First, we must notice that if deceased committed suicide while Helen
Otway was in the chambers, he must have done so with her consent and
connivance. But was it only a matter of consent? Is there not a
suggestion that some direct means may have been employed to induce or
compel him to commit suicide? On this point we have very little
information. But we have the evidence of Rachel Goldstein or Gregg
that she overheard the conversation between Helen Otway and deceased
on two separate occasions; and that on both occasions they seemed to
be talking about suicide. There seems to be a strong suggestion that
some active, direct, means were employed: persuasion, threats, or
perhaps the mysterious agency of suggestion. We cannot say that it was
so; but it would be in close agreement with the known circumstances
and quite consistent with the course of action exhibited by the
anonymous letters.
“Supposing such active, direct means to have been employed, what
degree of criminal responsibility would their employment entail? With
regard to the letters, though the moral responsibility for their
effect is beyond question, I should hesitate to give an opinion as to
the exact legal position. But in the case of direct means there is no
doubt at all. The law on the subject is quite clear. Let us consider
it for a moment.
“First as to the legal nature of suicide. In law, suicide is murder.
It has been expressly laid down that a person cannot commit
manslaughter on himself. But since suicide is necessarily murder, it
follows that any person who is accessory to suicide is accessory to
murder. If such person aids or abets any other person in so killing
himself, that person is an accessory before the fact, or a principal
in the second degree in the murder so committed; an accessory before
the fact being defined as one who directly or indirectly counsels,
procures, or commands any person to commit any felony or piracy which
is committed in consequence of such counselling, procuring, or
commandment.
“Here, then, is the importance of the matter. The criminal
responsibility attaching to the anonymous letters may be involved in
some obscurity; but if it can be proved that any person counselled,
procured, or commanded the deceased to kill himself, that person can
be dealt with as a principal in the second degree in the murder of
deceased. It is for you to say whether, in your judgment, such action
can be proved in the case of any person, and if so, who that person
is.
“There is only one more item of evidence that I shall refer to, and
that I shall touch upon only lightly. You have heard the witness
Rachel Goldstein state that when she informed Helen Otway that
deceased had hanged himself, Mrs. Otway fell down in a dead faint. You
have heard the explanation that Mrs. Otway gave, and you must decide
what weight you attach to it; whether you can regard this fainting as
due to the shock of an unexpected tragedy, or as the culminating
effect of prolonged and extreme nervous tension. In any case, its
evidential value is but small.
“And now, as our expert witness has still not arrived, let us take a
last look over the evidence to see what material we have for our
verdict.” Here the coroner paused, and laying a number of sheets of
paper in a row before him, glanced rapidly through them.
I watched him with a dreadful fascination, even as a bird might watch
the stealthy approach of a snake, terrified, but despairing of any
hope of escape. So I had listened to this terrible summing-up--all
false and erroneous in detail, but so horribly true in regard to the
central fact. Through that dense fog of error and false appearances
the coroner had seen the essential truth; that Lewis Otway had gone to
his death at my bidding. Like some great spider he had wound around me
a network of horrid entanglements; and now he was about to wind up the
final turns.
At length he looked up, and laid his hand on one of the papers. Then
he turned once more towards the jury and began his summary of the
evidence. And at that moment, unnoticed, apparently, by anyone save
myself, Dr. Thorndyke entered silently by a side door, and seated
himself on a vacant chair.
Chapter XXVIII.
The Verdict
The arrival of Dr. Thorndyke seemed to me to close the last avenue
of escape. The coroner had guessed at my guilty secret, but he only
offered his guess as a speculative possibility on which no decisive
opinion could be founded. But Dr. Thorndyke was not a guesser. If he
had penetrated to that secret he would offer no speculative
probabilities, but definite evidence, which would reduce the matter to
certainty.
It was a terrible thought. Self-accusation--the denunciations of a
guilty conscience--had been dreadful enough. But there is a world of
difference between self-accusation in secret and a public criminal
indictment; between calling oneself a murderess, and standing in the
dock to answer the charge.
During the coroner’s address I furtively watched Dr. Thorndyke. But I
could gather nothing from his face. As he sat motionless, with his
eyes steadily bent on the coroner, his expression denoted nothing but
a grave and concentrated attention. After the first quick glance round
the court, he never looked at me. What was in his mind I could not
guess, though I felt that he held my fate in the hollow of his hand.
“There is no need, gentlemen,” the coroner began, “for us to go
through the mass of evidence again. We have looked over it as a whole,
and we have seen that certain striking suggestions emerge from it. In
our last glance we have to bring those suggestions to a definite
focus. Our inquiry deals with a man who committed suicide, but the
appearances suggest that that suicide was not a voluntary, spontaneous
act, but was the effect of a compelling force exerted by some other
person.
“Who was that other person? The compelling force seems to have been
exerted by means of certain menacing letters. The person who procured
the suicide of deceased was therefore the writer of those letters. Now
who was the writer of those letters? The question is best answered by
asking certain other questions.
“First: Had deceased any enemies? Well, we know of one, and one only.
His wife, Helen Otway, has confessed to a deep repugnance to him. She
had suffered grievous injuries at his hands, and she resented those
injuries profoundly.
“Second: Who gained most, financially, by his death? Again, the answer
is his wife, Helen Otway.
“Third: Did anyone stand to gain in any other way by his death? The
answer again is yes; and the person who stood to gain--by liberation
from an intolerable bondage--was Helen Otway.
“Fourth: Who could have written those letters? who possessed the
secret knowledge that those letters exhibit? Only one such person is
known to us besides deceased himself. That person is Helen Otway.
“Fifth: Who was the last person who was with him before his death?
Again the answer is, Helen Otway.
“Sixth: Is there any evidence of the use of more direct means to
procure or compel this act of suicide? And if so, by whom do those