Bruce Alexander - Person or Persons Unknown

scrutinizing each most carefully. Thus she went, and when she had finished with the first rank, the sergeant took her through the second, examining that with the same searching thoroughness she had shown the first. For their part, the men submitted to the inspection, showing no outward signs of emotion; from their reaction, or its lack, they would as lief be looked at by their colonel, or by King George himself. There were, in all, twenty — as I myself had counted.

Once she had done, she returned to us. Yet she had made no accusation, pointed no finger, so that I — perhaps with all the rest — supposed she had not seen him for whom she searched. Sir John brought us back to a point quite distant from the two ranks so that we should be out of earshot. Captain Conger trailed along.

“Did you recognize the man you saw talking to the victim among those assembled here?” asked Sir John.

She hesitated, then said at last: “This is most confusin’, sir.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“I saw two who looked like him.”

Sir John said nothing for a long moment. “Two, is it?” He sighed. It was at that point evident she was not near so good a witness as he had hoped. “All right, which are they?”

“The fifth one from the left in the first row, and the third from the right in the second.”

“I’ll talk to both. Captain, are you here?”

“I am, sir.”

“You heard her choices?”

“I did.”

“Have those two men isolated from their fellows and from each other. And if you can provide a room in which I may question them separately, I should be greatly obliged to you.”

“All that will be done. But, Sir John?”

“Yes, Captain Conger?”

“Do not think ill of your witness. She has a better eye than I would have expected. The two she picked out are brothers. They bear a strong family resemblance one to the other.”

Once the two soldiers had been tucked away separately. Sir John asked the sergeant if he would search the personal effects of both to see if either had a njurow-bladed knife. ”Something on the order of a stiletto,” was how he described it. Then he directed that one of the two brothers be sent in to him.

“Which one will you have, sir?” asked the sergeant.

“Oh, I don’t know, the elder I suppose.”

And so it was that only moments after the sergeant had left, a knock came on the door to the captain’s office, where we two had been settled. Sir John bade the knocker enter, and in marched the first of the two brothers. He was also the taller and had been, I assumed, in the second rank. I had not so good a look at him because of that, but he did indeed resemble him who was fifth from the left in the first rank.

He stood at rigid attention before us.

“Your name, sir?” asked Sir John.

“Sperling, Otis, Corporal, sahr’

“You may sit down. Corporal. I have a few questions for you. I am, if you have not been told. Sir John Fielding, and I am Magistrate of the Bow Street Court.”

“Prefer to stand, sahF”

“Well, suit yourself. The questions I have are directed at you as a witness. No accusation has been made. I should like us both to be at our ease, and I cannot be at mine if you shout ‘sahr at me each time you address me. Now, please relax.”

Corporal Sperling made an effort to do so, shifting to a less strenuous military posture. He managed also to say “As you will, sir” in a normal tone of voice as he ventured a glance at me.

“You were given leave yesterday, I believe.”

“I was, sir, though not the whole day.”

“Tell me about it, if you would — what you did, who you saw, that sort of thing. Start with the time you left the Tower.”

Corporal Sperling gave a good, brief accounting of his time after he had left the gate three o’clock in the afternoon in the company of his brother, Richard, and one Corporal Tigger, both of this regiment of Grenadier Guards. His plan, said he, was to take the five o’clock coach to Hammersmith with Richard, so that the two might dine with their parents; their father was a wheelwright in that community. They had separated early on, Richard agreeing to meet them at the coach house, and the two corporals going off together to enjoy themselves as they would.

“And how did you two propose to do that?” asked Sir John.

”Oh, as soldiers usually do, sir — by drinking and yarning and offering complaints on the conduct of the regiment.” Then he added, “I will say, sir, that we was just passing the time together, and at no time did we take strong drink, just beer and ale, sir.”

“I see. And where did you pass your time in this manner?”

“Well, there was two places. The first was a place near the end of Fleet Street, which makes no objections to serving soldiers so long as they’re well behaved — the Cheshire Cheese.”

“I know the place well and have drunk and dined there myself,” said Sir John. “And what was the second place?”

“That would have been the Coach House Inn, where I was to meet my brother.”

“And did Corporal Tigger remain with you there?”

“Yes, sir, until Richard come and we left on the coach.”

“And at no time were you direct in the area of Covent Garden, the two of you — or you alone?”

“No, sir, I had no business there.”

“I quite understand.” Sir John paused at that point, then gave in summary: “So you were in the company of Corporal Tigger from the time you left the Tower at three o’clock until you left with your brother, Richard, on the five o’clock coach to Hammersmith. Is it then so?”

“To that I would have to say yes and no, sir.”

“Oh? Explain yourself, please.”

“Yes, I was with Tigger the whole time, but no, Richard and I did not leave on the five o’clock coach.”

“How was that?”

“Richard was late. I was quite cross with him, for there was not another coach until half past six. This was meant to be a party — a celebration, so to say, and we was late to it.”

“And what were you celebrating?’

“My promotion, sir.”

“To corporal?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmmph,” Sir John grunted, then fell silent for a long moment. “Corporal Sperling,” said he, “you say your brother arrived too late for you to leave on the five o’clock coach. When did he arrive?”

“That I cannot say exact, for I did not then own a timepiece, though I do now. My father presented me one last night, sir.”

“He must be very proud of you.”

The corporal flushed with embarrassment, looked left and right and shuffled his feet. “As you say, sir.”

“Give it to me approximate, then.”

“Sir?” said he, frowning. Surely he had understood.

“The time of your brother’s arrival.”

“Oh, well, he wasn’t terrible late — less than half an hour, I’d say.”

“A quarter of an hour, would you give it that?”

“About that, not much more.” The corporal glanced my way again.

“Very good,” said Sir John. “What excuse did your brother give? What business did he have that kept him so late?”

“That you would have to ask him, sir.”

“Are you reluctant to say?”

“No, sir, he never told — ^just that it was a personal matter. Then, when he was late, he said he couldn’t help it.”

“And that was all he gave by way of explanation?”

“He keeps his counsel. You must understand, sir, that things is not always so easy between brothers, even those in the same regiment.”

“Perhaps especially not then.”

“As you say, sir.”

“We are nearly done,” said Sir John. “I do want to ask you though. Corporal, when was it that your brother, Richard, left you and the other corporal? You said that you left the Tower with him — you three together.”