Bruce Alexander - Person or Persons Unknown

“Something in the middle, I’d say. I’d put it between my second gent and my third.”

“Mr. Millhouse!” spoke Sir John, loudly summoning the last witness, “if you will stand where you are, perhaps you can clear up this matter for us. I recall that you declared in your interview with me that you saw Priscilla Tarkin in the Dog and Duck before her death on that night. Was it only once she was there?”

“So far as I know, sir,” said Millhouse, who had risen from his chair as instructed. ‘ T, at least, saw her only one time whilst I was there — and I was sitting in view of the door.”

“We shall assume, then, for our purposes, that it was her only visit to the Dog and Duck that night. I recall, too, that you said she simply walked through the place and left. Is that correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you place the time of her visit?”

“Yes, I can, for shortly after she came and went, Mr. Goldsmith, who was one of our party at the table, pulled out his timepiece and said that it was just past one o’clock and that he must be getting on, for he had work to do that night. He then generously settled for our drinks and advised us all to follow his example and return home. Would that I had taken his advice!”

“Indeed! You may sit, Mr. Millhouse. Now, Mistress Linney, will you accept that estimate of the time? You saw Polly enter the Dog and Duck. Mr. Millhouse places that visit at one o’clock, give or take a bit.”

“If you says so, sir.”

“I say so. You may step down. Mistress Linney.” He gave her a moment or two to scuffle back to her chair. Then did he resume: “And so, as far as we know, Priscilla Tarkin was not seen nor heard from further until her body was discovered nearby by Constable Brede at four o’clock. She had been dead for some time. The blood from her wounds had begun to dry. You have heard Mr. Donnelly say that that fact would suggest she had been dead about an hour. So between one o’clock and, roughly, three o’clock, we know not where she might have been. Yet she was found quite near the Dog and Duck, where she was last seen. Is this a mystery, or simply a discrepancy? Let us proceed. Mr. Marsden?”

The twelve ordinary-looking men who sat together at Sir John’s right took uncommon interest in the next witness called by Mr. Marsden, for it was Josef Davidovich, whom I recognized immediate as the man brought in by Rabbi Gershon the night before. There was a murmur of discussion from the jury. Sir John silenced it at once, calling for order.

“You are Josef Davidovich, commonly known as Yossel?” he asked the man who had taken his place before him.

“I am, sir, that’s me, yes,” said he.

“Did you encounter Priscilla Tarkin. commonly known as Polly, on the night of her death?”

“I did, yes, I did, sir.” He had an eager, quick way of speaking — as if he wished to assure his cooperation by the readiness of his replies.

The fellow was somewhat the worse for the night he had spent in the strong room. Yet in spite of the two-day growth of beard and his unkempt hair, there remained something crudely handsome about him. I wagered with myself that he had charmed more money from women than he had taken by threat. Here and now, however, he made no attempt to charm Sir John, which would have been quite useless in any case. He stood before him, nervously crushing his hat in his hands.

“You were seen to be quarreling with her,” said Sir John. “What, pray tell, was the reason for your quarrel?”

Yossel hesitated. “Well, sir, I may be stickin’ my head in a noose, like, but it won’t be for no murder. I knowed Polly as a thief, and a skilled one at that. And while I didn’t do no thievin’ myself, I had given her a tip, so to speak, where she might put her skill to work — a partic’lar place, a partic’lar house. Now, for that, I was entitled to a share — not a big one, not a halver or any such. Now, I awready knowed she had visited this house in a manner I thought of special, and she had taken certain objects of value, so I wanted my full wack, I did, like we’d agreed. So I sees her on Bedford Street, and I approached her and demanded what was comin’ to me, for truth to tell, I had to share my share with one who worked in that partic’lar house. And so, seein’ Polly, I — ”

Sir John interrupted: “Would you care to be more specific as to the house and its residents?”

“Uh, no, sir, I would not. But mind you, I did no thievin’ myself. I just pointed her in the right direction, so to speak.”

“So this is not to be taken as a confession of guilt in the matter?”

“Oh no, sir, not if I can help it.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Surely, sir, you would not hold this against me?”

“Proceed with your story, Yossel.”

“Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I always say.” He looked about him with a nervous smile upon his face. And, having made his choice, he pressed on with his story: “And so I seen Polly on Bedford Street, and prob’ly about one o’clock in the early morning would be right, then I went right up to her, and I said I wanted my wack, and she sad she ain’t got it, that she ain’t visited that house as yet I knowed to be a lie. So we started at one another, callin’ each other terrible names, cursing something awful. Then along comes Biddy. as she is known to me — that woman Linney, you spoke to — and she asks Polly does she need some help and Polly says no. Even so. Biddy whips out her razor, and she comes at me — like, in a very threatening way. Then didn’t I shove my trunk down Bedford Street! I stopped just once to look back, and I seen Polly headin’ into the Dog and Duck and Biddy all alone with the razor in her hand.

He stopped at this point apparently hopeful that what he haid said thus far would suffice. It seemed for a moment that it might, for Sir John deviated then from his line of questioning and turned in the direction of the jury.

“You twelve gentlemen nay be shocked to hear of the sudden appearance of a razor in the hand of oar last witness, Mistress Linney, but I fear that appearance is all too credible. You heard her say on two occasions that she did not frequent the Dog and Duck. The truth is, as Constable Brede found out after making inquiries, that the innkeeper of said establishment had barred her from entering the place some months before, because during an altercation she had produced just such a razor. Is that not so. Mistress Linney? ”

There was a grunt and a mumble from her as she slid down deep in her chair, as if hoping thus to make herself invisible.

”Speak up, please”

“Yes, sir!”

“Thank you.” He returned to the witness: “Now. Mr. Dovidovich — YosaeL if you will — I understand you carry a knife with you. In fact one was taken from you by Constable Baker when he locked you up in the Bow Street strong room. When Mistress Linney approached you with that razor, why did you not simply produce the knife and have it out with her right there on Bedford Street? ‘

‘I would not do such a thing, sir.”

“Oh?”

”No, truly I would not. I gave up that rough practice a few months past, I did. Besides. I never cut nobody. By me, it was always threats. You may ask about, sir, you’ll find it’s so.”

Just at that moment, Mistress Linney bounded up from her chair, determined to be heard.

“If he give it up.” she screamed, “it’s ‘cause I sliced him good on the arm! Ooh, didn’t he bleed!”

She ended her boast with a cackle which was heard by few, for the jury exploded suddenly in a great uproar of laughter. Sir John slammed down his open hand upon the table before him, then went feeling about for the mallet which served him for a gavel. Finding it, be beat down hard enough to put dents in the hardwood surface.