Don Gutteridge - The Widow's Demise

“Let’s be absolutely clear. This figure, in agreat hurry, was scuttling along the east wall and coming from thedirection of the front of the house, where the crime took placeabout seven-thirty?”

McBride started to interrupt, thought betterof it, and sat back down.

“That’s right, sir.”

“Thank you very much, Miss Doyle. Weappreciate your testifying under difficult circumstances.”

Marc was elated. He had his third party – athin man or a woman in disguise.

McBride now began his cross-examination. Hegave Peggy Jane an avuncular smile and said, “You testified that itwas seven-thirty when you came down the east stairs?”

“Yes, sir. I always come down to do myevening chores at seven-thirty.”

“Did you look at a clock before you camedown?”

“Well, no, I – ”

“How did you know it was exactlyseven-thirty?”

“Well, I looked at the upstairs clock aboutseven-fifteen and I guessed it was about fifteen minutes later whenI came down.”

“So you can’t be sure it wasseven-thirty?”

“I guess not,” Mary Jane said verysoftly.

McBride glanced over at Marc with a smallgrin of triumph on his round face.

“Now, the east side of Rosewood – is that notan alley running between Rosewood and the building next door?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“And do people not use it as a short-cut tothe lane that runs behind Rosewood?”

“Sometimes.”

“So this so-called mysterious stranger couldhave been anybody wishing to take a short-cut through to thelane?”

“I suppose so.”

“At anytime between seven-fifteen and quarterto eight?”

“It couldn’t have been that late because whenI got downstairs, a few moments later I was called to the foyer tosee what the to-do was in front of the house.”

“But it could have been, say,seven-twenty?”

“Perhaps. I’m not sure.”

“No more questions, Milord.”

McBride had weakened parts of her testimony,but the essential part remained. There was now a third party in thevicinity about the time of the murder. It was now up to Marc to letthe jury know that there were plenty of candidates for that role.The next candidate was John Perkins, the dismissed servant.

“Mr. Perkins,” said Marc, “you worked in thehousehold of Mr. Humphrey Cardiff?”

“Yes, sir. I was assistant to the butler, Mr.Diggs.”

“And were you recently dismissed from thatposition?”

“I was.”

“Under what circumstances were youfired?”

“Mrs. Cardiff-Jones dismissed me because Ianswered a question truthfully put to me by Mr. Cardiff.”

“And you considered this unfair?”

“It was unfair. I was only doing myduty.”

“Did you seek the assistance of Mr. Cardiffto intervene?”

“I did, but he refused. He said the servantswere beholden only to Mrs. Cardiff-Jones.”

“Were you given references?”

“No,” Perkins said bitterly. “She wouldn’tgive me a reference.”

“And you haven’t been able to find otheremployment?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Did you harbour feelings of resentmenttowards Mrs. Cardiff-Jones?”

“I was unhappy with her, yes.”

“And did you, in front of other servants,swear to get even with Mrs. Cardiff-Jones?”

“I was just blowing off steam.”

“Where were you on the evening of thecrime?”

“I was home. Alone.”

“Can you substantiate that?”

“No.”

“So you harboured a grudge against Mrs.Cardiff-Jones and you have no alibi for the time of the crime?”

Perkins glared at Marc. “No,” he said.

“Did the police ask you to try on the glovethat was found at the scene of the crime?”

“Yes.”

“And did it fit?”

“Yes. But it wasn’t mine,” Perkins cried,looking bewildered.

Marc turned Perkins over to McBride.

“Just a few simple questions, Mr. Perkins.First, where you home all evening on the night of the crime?”

“I was.”

“And did you throw acid in Mrs.Cardiff-Jones’s face?”

“I did not!” Perkins said loudly.

“And regarding this glove. Would you say youwere an average size?”

“Yes. Average.”

“And therefore the glove might well fithundreds of average-sized men in this city?”

“That’s right.”

“That you,” McBride said.

At this point Horace Macy was recalled to thestand.

“Mr. Macy,” Marc said, “were you paying courtto Mrs. Cardiff-Jones?”

“We spent much time together,” Macy said. Helooked wary.

“Did you ever propose marriage to her?”

“Several times.”

“And how did she respond?”

“She said she was not quite ready to bemarried.”

“And how did you take this refusal?”

“I was disappointed, but not discouraged. Iloved her and I knew she liked me.”

“Were you under the impression that you wereher only suitor?”

“At first I was.”

“When did you discover that there was anotherman in the picture?”

“One afternoon recently when I came out theback door of Rosewood, I found a Mr. Lionel Trueman waiting for mein the yard.”

“And he was as shocked to see you there asyou were to see him there?”

“You could say that.”

“Did you subsequently get into anargument?”

“We quarrelled over who was the truesuitor.”

“At some point did you challenge Mr. Truemanto a duel?”

“He accused me of seeking Mrs.Cardiff-Jones’s money.”

“And you took that as n insult to yourhonour?”

“I did.”

“Even though duelling is illegal?”

“We never intended to go through withit.”

“Did you not meet at dawn the next morning inthe cricket grounds, armed with pistols?”

“It was all show – ”

“And were you not in the process of pacingoff each other, pistols cocked, when you were interrupted by thepolice?”

“It wasn’t what it seemed.”

“Be that as it may, Mr. Macy, you were sobesotted with Mrs. Cardiff-Jones that you were willing to fight aduel over her. What I want to know is when your affection, yourobsession, turned to hatred.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”Macy cried, looking desperately at the judge.

“You discovered that the object of youraffections was double-dealing with you, isn’t that right? She wasseeing Lionel Trueman seriously. And you couldn’t forgive her forthat, could you?”

“That’s nonsense. I loved her. I hatedhim.”

“Yet you were seen after the duel talking toTrueman in a most friendly manner. Had you both decided you werebeing played for fools? Was that why you decided to get even?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Did the police ask you to try on the glovethat was found at the scene?”

“Yes.”

“And did it fit?”

“It was a little too small. And it wasn’tmine!”

“Where were you on the evening of thecrime?”

Flustered, Macy managed to blurt out, “I wasat home at seven-fifteen.”

“Can you prove that?”

“My maid Gladys was in the room next to mystudy. She can verify that I never left the house.”

“What if I were to tell you that we have anaffidavit from your maid saying that she fell asleep and thereforecannot vouch for your alibi?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not telling the truth,does it?”

“I suggest, sir, that you left your house andwent to Rosewood to confront your faithless lover, outraged as yourwere by her behaviour. And threw acid in her face.”

“Milord!” McBride was teetering, his jowlsa-flush, his tragedian’s eyes blazing. “Mr. Macy is not on trialhere.”

“I agree,” said the judge. “Cease this lineof questioning immediately. The jury will ignore that lastremark.”