The mystery of Angelina Frood
available. But since that time, the matter has been put to the test of
actual experiment, and the results of those experiments are definite
facts. It is no longer a matter of opinion but one of incontestable
fact.”
“What are the experiments that you refer to?”
“The first practical investigation was carried out by Mr. A. Lucas,
the Director of the Government Analytical Laboratory and Assay Office
at Cairo. He felt that the question was one of great medico-legal
importance, and that it ought to be settled definitely. He accordingly
carried out a number of experiments, of which he published the
particulars in his treatise on ‘Forensic Chemistry.’ I produce a copy
of this book, with your permission.”
“Is this evidence admissible?” the foreman asked. “The witness can’t
swear to another man’s experiments.”
“It is admissible in a coroner’s court,” was the reply. “We are not
bound as rigidly by the rules of evidence as a criminal court, for
instance. It is relevant to the inquiry, and I think we had better
hear it.”
“I may say,” said Thorndyke, “that I have repeated and confirmed these
experiments; but I suggest that, as the published cases are the
recognized authority, I be allowed to quote them before describing my
confirmatory experiments.”
The coroner having agreed to this course, he continued: “The tests
were made with the fresh bodies of young pigeons, which were plucked
but not opened, and which were buried in boxes with loosely-fitted
covers, filled respectively with dry earth, slaked lime, chlorinated
lime, quick-lime, and quick-lime suddenly slaked with water. These
bodies were left thus buried for six months, the boxes being placed on
the laboratory roof at Cairo. At the end of that period the bodies
were disinterred and examined with the following results: The body
which had been buried in dry earth was found to be in a very bad
condition. There was a considerable smell of putrefaction and a large
part of the flesh had disappeared. The body which had been buried in
quick-lime was found to be in good condition; it was dry and hard, the
skin was unbroken, but the body was naturally shrunken. The other
three bodies do not concern us, but I may say that none of them was as
completely preserved as the one that was buried in quick-lime.
“On reading the account of these experiments I decided to repeat them,
partly for confirmation and partly to enable me to give direct
evidence as to the effect of lime on dead bodies. I used
freshly-killed rabbits from which the fur was removed by shaving, and
buried them in roomy boxes in the same materials as were used in the
published experiments. They were left undisturbed during the six
summer months, and were then exhumed and examined. The rabbit which
had been buried in dry earth was in an advanced stage of putrefaction;
the one which had been buried in quick-lime was free from any odour of
decomposition, the skin was intact, and the body unaltered excepting
that it was dry and rather shrivelled--mummified, in fact. It was more
completely preserved than any of the others.”
The conclusion of this statement was followed by a slightly
uncomfortable silence. The coroner stroked his chin reflectively, and
the jurymen looked at one another with obvious doubt and distrust. At
length Mr. Pilley gave voice to the collective sentiments.
“It’s all very well, sir, for this learned gentleman to explain to us
that the lime couldn’t have eaten up the body of the deceased. But it
has. We’ve seen the bare bones with our own eyes. What’s the use of
saying a thing is impossible when it has happened?”
Here Thorndyke produced from his pocket a sheet of notepaper and a
fountain pen, and began to write rapidly, noting down, as I supposed,
the jurymen’s objections; which, however, the coroner proceeded to
answer.
“Dr. Thorndyke’s statement was that these bones are not the bones of
Angelina Frood. That the body was not her body.”
“Still,” said the foreman, “it was somebody’s body, you know. And the
lime seems to have eaten it up pretty clean, possible or impossible.”
“Exactly,” said the coroner. “The destruction of this particular body
appears to be an undeniable fact; and we may assume that one body is
very much like another--in a chemical sense, at least. What do you
say, Doctor?”
“My statement,” replied Thorndyke, “had reference to Angelina Frood,
who is known to have been alive on a certain date. Of the condition of
the unknown body that was buried in the wall, I can give no opinion.”
Again there was an uncomfortable silence, during which Thorndyke,
having finished writing, folded the sheet of notepaper, tucked the end
in securely, and wrote an address on the back. Then he handed it to
his neighbour, who passed it on until it reached me. I was on the
point of opening it when I observed with astonishment that it was
addressed to Peter Bundy, Esq., to whom I immediately handed it. But
my astonishment was nothing to Bundy’s. He seemed positively
thunderstruck. Indeed, his aspect was so extraordinary as he sat
gazing wildly at the opened note, that I forgot my manners and frankly
stared at him. First he turned scarlet; then he grew deathly pale; and
then he turned scarlet again. And, for the first and only time in my
life, I saw him look really angry. But this was only a passing
manifestation. For a few moments his eyes flashed and his mouth set
hard. Then, quite suddenly, the wrath faded from his face and gave
place to a whimsical smile. He tore off the fly-leaf of the note, and,
scribbling a few words on it, folded it up small, addressed it to Dr.
Thorndyke, and handed it to me for transmission by the return route.
When it reached Thorndyke, he opened it, and, having read the brief
message, nodded gravely to Bundy, and once more turned his attention
to the foreman, who was addressing the coroner at greater length.
“The jury wish to say, sir, that this evidence is not satisfactory. It
can’t be reconciled with the other evidence. The facts before the jury
are these: On the 26th of April Angelina Frood disappeared, and was
never afterwards seen alive. On the night that she disappeared, or on
the next night, a dead body was buried in the wall. Three months later
that body was found in the wall, packed in quick-lime, and eaten away
to a skeleton. That skeleton has been examined by an expert, and found
to be that of a woman of similar size and age to Angelina Frood. With
that skeleton were found articles of clothing, jewellery, and
ornaments which have been proved to have been the clothing and
property of Angelina Frood. Other articles of clothing have been
recovered from the river; and those articles were missing from the
body when it was found in the wall. On these facts, the jury feel that
it is impossible to doubt that the remains found in the wall are the
remains of Angelina Frood.”
As the foreman concluded the coroner turned to Thorndyke with a
slightly puzzled smile. “Of course, Doctor,” said he, “you have
considered those facts that the foreman has summarized so admirably.
What do you say to his conclusion?”
“I must still contest it,” replied Thorndyke. “The foreman’s summary
of the evidence, masterly as it was, furnishes no answer to the
objection--based on established chemical facts--that the condition of
the remains when found is irreconcilable with the alleged
circumstances of the burial.”
The coroner raised his eyebrows and pursed up his lips. “I appreciate
your point, Doctor,” said he. “But we are on the horns of a dilemma.
We are between the Devil of observed fact and the Deep Sea of
scientific demonstration. Can you suggest any way out of the
difficulty?”
“I think,” said Thorndyke, “that if you were to call Mr. Bundy, he
might be able to help you out of your dilemma.”
“Mr. Bundy!” exclaimed the coroner. “I didn’t know he was concerned in
the case. Can you give us any information, Mr. Bundy?”
“Yes,” replied Bundy, looking somewhat shy and nervous. “I think I
could throw a little light on the case.”
“I wish to goodness you had said so before. However, better late than
never. We will take your evidence at once.”
On this Thorndyke returned to his seat at the table and Bundy took his
place, standing by the chair which Thorndyke had resigned.
“Let me see, Mr. Bundy,” said the coroner, “your Christian name
is----”
“The witness has not been sworn,” interrupted Thorndyke.
The coroner smiled. “We are in the hands of the regular
practitioners,” he chuckled. “We must mind our p’s and q’s. Still you
are quite right, Doctor. The name is part of the evidence.”
The witness was accordingly sworn, and the coroner then proceeded,
smilingly: “Now, Mr. Bundy, be very careful. You are making a sworn
statement, remember. What is your Christian name?”
“Angelina,” was the astounding reply.
“Angelina!” bawled Pilley. “It can’t be. Why, it’s a woman’s name.”
“We must presume that the witness knows his own name,” said the
coroner, writing it down. “Angelina Bundy.”
“No, Sir,” said the witness. “Angelina Frood.”
The coroner suddenly stiffened with the upraised pen poised in the
air; and so everyone in the room, including myself, underwent an
instantaneous arrest of movement as if we had been turned into stone;
and I noticed that the process of petrifaction had caught us all with
our mouths open. But whereas the fixed faces on which I looked,
expressed amazement qualified by incredulity, my own astonishment was
coupled with conviction. Astounding as the statement was, the moment
that it was made I knew that it was true. In spite of the
discrepancies of appearance, I realized in a flash of enlightenment,
the nature of that subtle influence that had drawn me to Bundy with a
tenderness hardly congruous with mere male friendship. Outwardly I had
been deceived, but my sub-conscious self had recognized Angelina all
the time.
The interval of breathless silence, during which the witness calmly
surveyed the court through his--or rather her--eyeglass, was at length
broken by the coroner, who asked gravely: “This is not a joke? You
affirm seriously that you are Angelina Frood?”
“Yes; I am Angelina Frood,” was the reply.
Here Mr. Pilley recovered himself and demanded excitedly: “Do we
understand this gentleman to say that he is the deceased?”
“Well,” replied the coroner, “he is obviously not deceased, and he
states that he is not a gentleman. He has declared that he is a lady.”
“But,” protested Pilley, “he says that she--at least she says that
he----”
“You are getting mixed, Pilley,” interrupted the foreman. “This
appears to be a woman masquerading as a man and playing practical
jokes on a coroner’s jury. I suggest, sir, that we ought to have
evidence of identity.”
“I agree with you, emphatically,” said the coroner. “The
identification is indispensable. Is there anyone present who can swear
to the identity of this--er--person? Mr. Japp, for instance?”
“I’d rather you didn’t bring Mr. Japp into it,” said Angelina,
hastily. “It isn’t really necessary. If you will allow me to run home
and change my clothes, Mrs. Gillow and Dr. Strangeways will be able to
identify me. And I can bring some photographs to show the jury.”
“That seems quite a good suggestion,” said the coroner. “Don’t you
think so, gentlemen?”
“It is a very proper suggestion,” said the foreman, severely. “Let her
go away and clothe herself decently. How long will she be gone?”
“I shall be back in less than half an hour,” said Angelina; and on
this understanding she was given permission to retire. I watched her
with a tumult of mixed emotions as she took up her hat, gloves, and
stick, and strolled jauntily towards the door. There she paused for an
instant and shot at me a single, swift, whimsical glance through her