Whose Body? A Lord Peter Wimsey Novel
the flat. There were marks on the bathroom window-sill which pointed
to somebody having got in that way. There were no ladder marks or
footmarks in the yard; the yard was paved with asphalt. He had examined
the roof, but found nothing on the roof. In his opinion the body had
been brought into the flat previously and concealed till the evening by
someone who had then gone out during the night by the bathroom window,
with the connivance of the girl. In that case, why should not the
girl have let the person out by the door? Well, it might have been so.
Had he found traces of a body or a man or both having been hidden in
the flat? He found nothing to show that they might _not_ have been so
concealed. What was the evidence that led him to suppose that the death
had occurred that night?
At this point Inspector Sugg appeared uneasy, and endeavoured to retire
upon his professional dignity. On being pressed, however, he admitted
that the evidence in question had come to nothing.
_One of the jurors_: Was it the case that any finger-marks had been
left by the criminal?
Some marks had been found on the bath, but the criminal had worn gloves.
_The Coroner_: Do you draw any conclusion from this fact as to the
experience of the criminal?
_Inspector Sugg_: Looks as if he was an old hand, sir.
_The Juror_: Is that very consistent with the charge against Alfred
Thipps, Inspector?
The Inspector was silent.
_The Coroner_: In the light of the evidence which you have just
heard, do you still press the charge against Alfred Thipps and Gladys
Horrocks?
_Inspector Sugg_: I consider the whole set-out highly suspicious.
Thipps’s story isn’t corroborated, and as for the girl Horrocks, how do
we know this Williams ain’t in it as well?
_William Williams_: Now, you drop that. I can bring a ’undred witnesses—
_The Coroner_: Silence, if you please. I am surprised, Inspector, that
you should make this suggestion in that manner. It is highly improper.
By the way, can you tell us whether a police raid was actually carried
out on the Monday night on any Night Club in the neighbourhood of St.
Giles’s Circus?
_Inspector Sugg_ (sulkily): I believe there was something of the sort.
_The Coroner_: You will, no doubt, inquire into the matter. I seem to
recollect having seen some mention of it in the newspapers. Thank you,
Inspector, that will do.
Several witnesses having appeared and testified to the characters of
Mr. Thipps and Gladys Horrocks, the Coroner stated his intention of
proceeding to the medical evidence.
“Sir Julian Freke.”
There was considerable stir in the court as the great specialist
walked up to give evidence. He was not only a distinguished man,
but a striking figure, with his wide shoulders, upright carriage and
leonine head. His manner as he kissed the Book presented to him with
the usual deprecatory mumble by the Coroner’s officer, was that of a
St. Paul condescending to humour the timid mumbo-jumbo of superstitious
Corinthians.
“So handsome, I always think,” whispered the Duchess to Mr. Parker;
“just exactly like William Morris, with that bush of hair and beard
and those exciting eyes looking out of it—so splendid, these dear men
always devoted to something or other—not but what I think socialism is
a mistake—of course it works with all those nice people, so good and
happy in art linen and the weather always perfect—Morris, I mean, you
know—but so difficult in real life. Science is different—I’m sure if I
had nerves I should go to Sir Julian just to look at him—eyes like that
give one something to think about, and that’s what most of these people
want, only I never had any—nerves, I mean. Don’t you think so?”
“You are Sir Julian Freke,” said the Coroner, “and live at St. Luke’s
House, Prince of Wales Road, Battersea, where you exercise a general
direction over the surgical side of St. Luke’s Hospital?”
Sir Julian assented briefly to this definition of his personality.
“You were the first medical man to see the deceased?”
“I was.”
“And you have since conducted an examination in collaboration with Dr.
Grimbold of Scotland Yard?”
“I have.”
“You are in agreement as to the cause of death?”
“Generally speaking, yes.”
“Will you communicate your impressions to the Jury?”
“I was engaged in research work in the dissecting room at St. Luke’s
Hospital at about nine o’clock on Monday morning, when I was informed
that Inspector Sugg wished to see me. He told me that the dead body of
a man had been discovered under mysterious circumstances at 59 Queen
Caroline Mansions. He asked me whether it could be supposed to be a
joke perpetrated by any of the medical students at the hospital. I was
able to assure him, by an examination of the hospital’s books, that
there was no subject missing from the dissecting room.”
“Who would be in charge of such bodies?”
“William Watts, the dissecting-room attendant.”
“Is William Watts present?” inquired the Coroner of the officer.
William Watts was present, and could be called if the Coroner thought
it necessary.
“I suppose no dead body would be delivered to the hospital without your
knowledge, Sir Julian?”
“Certainly not.”
“Thank you. Will you proceed with your statement?”
“Inspector Sugg then asked me whether I would send a medical man round
to view the body. I said that I would go myself.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I confess to my share of ordinary human curiosity, Mr. Coroner.”
Laughter from a medical student at the back of the room.
“On arriving at the flat I found the deceased lying on his back in
the bath. I examined him, and came to the conclusion that death had
been caused by a blow on the back of the neck, dislocating the fourth
and fifth cervical vertebrae, bruising the spinal cord and producing
internal haemorrhage and partial paralysis of the brain. I judged the
deceased to have been dead at least twelve hours, possibly more. I
observed no other sign of violence of any kind upon the body. Deceased
was a strong, well-nourished man of about fifty to fifty-five years of
age.”
“In your opinion, could the blow have been self-inflicted?”
“Certainly not. It had been made with a heavy, blunt instrument
from behind, with great force and considerable judgment. It is quite
impossible that it was self-inflicted.”
“Could it have been the result of an accident?”
“That is possible, of course.”
“If, for example, the deceased had been looking out of the window, and
the sash had shut violently down upon him?”
“No; in that case there would have been signs of strangulation and a
bruise upon the throat as well.”
“But deceased might have been killed through a heavy weight
accidentally falling upon him?”
“He might.”
“Was death instantaneous, in your opinion?”
“It is difficult to say. Such a blow might very well cause death
instantaneously, or the patient might linger in a partially paralyzed
condition for some time. In the present case I should be disposed
to think that deceased might have lingered for some hours. I base my
decision upon the condition of the brain revealed at the autopsy. I may
say, however, that Dr. Grimbold and I are not in complete agreement on
the point.”
“I understand that a suggestion has been made as to the identification
of the deceased. _You_ are not in a position to identify him?”
“Certainly not. I never saw him before. The suggestion to which you
refer is a preposterous one, and ought never to have been made. I was
not aware until this morning that it had been made; had it been made to
me earlier, I should have known how to deal with it, and I should like
to express my strong disapproval of the unnecessary shock and distress
inflicted upon a lady with whom I have the honour to be acquainted.”
_The Coroner_: It was not my fault, Sir Julian; I had nothing to
do with it; I agree with you that it was unfortunate you were not
consulted.
The reporters scribbled busily, and the court asked each other what was
meant, while the jury tried to look as if they knew already.
“In the matter of the eyeglasses found upon the body, Sir Julian. Do
these give any indication to a medical man?”
“They are somewhat unusual lenses; an oculist would be able to speak
more definitely, but I will say for myself that I should have expected
them to belong to an older man than the deceased.”
“Speaking as a physician, who has had many opportunities of observing
the human body, did you gather anything from the appearance of the
deceased as to his personal habits?”
“I should say that he was a man in easy circumstances, but who had only
recently come into money. His teeth are in a bad state, and his hands
shows signs of recent manual labour.”
“An Australian colonist, for instance, who had made money?”
“Something of that sort; of course, I could not say positively.”
“Of course not. Thank you, Sir Julian.”
Dr. Grimbold, called, corroborated his distinguished colleague in every
particular, except that, in his opinion, death had not occurred for
several days after the blow. It was with the greatest hesitancy that he
ventured to differ from Sir Julian Freke, and he might be wrong. It was
difficult to tell in any case, and when he saw the body, deceased had
been dead at least twenty-four hours, in his opinion.
Inspector Sugg, recalled. Would he tell the jury what steps had been
taken to identify the deceased?
A description had been sent to every police station and had been
inserted in all the newspapers. In view of the suggestion made by Sir
Julian Freke, had inquiries been made at all the seaports? They had.
And with no results? With no results at all. No one had come forward
to identify the body? Plenty of people had come forward; but nobody
had succeeded in identifying it. Had any effort been made to follow
up the clue afforded by the eyeglasses? Inspector Sugg submitted that,
having regard to the interests of justice, he would beg to be excused
from answering that question. Might the jury see the eyeglasses? The
eyeglasses were handed to the jury.
William Watts, called, confirmed the evidence of Sir Julian Freke with
regard to dissecting-room subjects. He explained the system by which
they were entered. They usually were supplied by the workhouses and
free hospitals. They were under his sole charge. The young gentlemen
could not possibly get the keys. Had Sir Julian Freke, or any of the
house surgeons, the keys? No, not even Sir Julian Freke. The keys had
remained in his possession on Monday night? They had. And, in any case,
the inquiry was irrelevant, as there was no body missing, nor ever had
been? That was the case.
The Coroner then addressed the jury, reminding them with some
asperity that they were not there to gossip about who the deceased
could or could not have been, but to give their opinion as to the
cause of death. He reminded them that they should consider whether,
according to the medical evidence, death could have been accidental
or self-inflicted, or whether it was deliberate murder, or homicide.
If they considered the evidence on this point insufficient, they could
return an open verdict. In any case, their verdict could not prejudice
any person; if they brought it in “murder,” all the whole evidence
would have to be gone through again before the magistrate. He then
dismissed them, with the unspoken adjuration to be quick about it.
Sir Julian Freke, after giving his evidence, had caught the eye of the
Duchess, and now came over and greeted her.
“I haven’t seen you for an age,” said that lady. “How are you?”
“Hard at work,” said the specialist. “Just got my new book out. This
kind of thing wastes time. Have you seen Lady Levy yet?”
“No, poor dear,” said the Duchess. “I only came up this morning, for