Arthur Upfield: Venom House

“You have given your facts, Mawson,” he said presently. “Now give your opinions. First, why was Carlow murdered?”

“Personal opinions, mind. Because he owed money for carcases to a cattle or sheep lifter, or owed money for skins to a possum trapper. He tried to put it over a man who would not stand for it.”

“Sound,” Bony murmured. “Who murdered Edward Carlow?” Mawson slowly shook his head, saying:

“Wouldn’t care to guess.”

“We’ll find out. Sounds like the doctor arriving. Howd’you get along with him?”

“All right. Good man with babies, they say. Co-operative with us. Done a lot to get the local hospital on its feet.”

Mawson rose and crossed to open the door. He was there a half-minute before welcoming Dr Lofty, and when the doctor entered Bony was ready to receive him. Lofty had the physical appearance of a jockey, the eyes of a hypnotist, the voice of seduction. Mawson’s introduction of Bony produced momentary shock, followed by keen interest.

“A privilege, Inspector!” he drawled, and produced a foolscap envelope which he dropped upon the desk.

“Good of you to come round,” murmured Bony, and they all sat.“Your P.M. report? Thank you. Before we discuss it, I would be obliged did you concentrate on your post mortem on the body of Edward Carlow. I’ve had small opportunity to study that case as presented by my Department’s Official Summary and other data. The scene at least is common with this last crime.”

“As you say, Inspector, the scene is the same in both murders,” agreed Lofty. “One was drowned, the other strangled. One had put up a fight forlife, the other hadn’t been given even that chance.”

“We begin, Doctor,” Bony said. “You knew Edward Carlow when alive, of course?”

“Yes.”

“Was he ever your patient?”

“On several occasions. For minor causes. Accidents. The man was a perfect specimen… until he took to drink. At the time of his death the liver was spotted, one kidney was diseased, and he was unhealthily fat. Still, he would have lived for years. My grandfather drank three bottles of whisky every day during the last four years of his life, which ended at a hundred and two. I wanted to look inside him, but the relations wouldn’t have it. Most interesting old chap.”

“You like post mortem work?”

“Love it.”

The little man’s black eyes were bright with laughter. He made himself comfortable on the straight-backed kitchen chair and smoked a cheroot with enjoyment.

“Edward Carlow, I understand, was forcibly drowned. Taking into account his diseased kidney and spotted liver, what kind of man, physically, must the murderer be?”

“A man who could take either you or me between his forefinger and thumb and pinch us in two separate parts, and then sit on each part and flatten it to mere parchment.”

Bony was not amused by being thus associated with the wispy, skinny little doctor. He said:

“Carlow’s body bore evidence of a fierce struggle?”

“It surely did. There were patches of ecchymosis all over him. He fought for his life in the shallow water of Answerth’s Folly, or he was first struck unconscious and then dragged into the water. Mud and weed from the bottom of the Folly were embedded under the fingernails, and weed and organisms were found in the water taken into the lungs and stomach. There were, of course, all the other appearances of drowning.”

“D’youknow if he could swim?”

“For years he was the beach guard at our annual aquatic sports,” Dr Lofty said slowly. “There’s no possible doubt that Carlow was forcibly held under water until he was dead.”

“How long, in your opinion, was the body submerged?”

“Eight to twelve hours.”

“Assuming that the body had not been found until it rose to the surface normally, do you think a superficial examination would have disclosed the fact that the dead man had fought desperately before drowning?”

“Are you thinking that the murderer, being unaware of his victim’s injuries, calculated that the superficial injuries would not be evident after the body had been submerged for several days? That he hoped the coroner’s verdict would be death by misadventure?”

“Yes, along that line, Doctor. It’s possible, is it not?”

“Quite.”

“Therefore, the murderer knew something of pathology?”

“He could have learned that much from a medical textbook, but more likely from a published report of an inquest. I’ve read in the newspapers two such reports this last twelve-month. There’s no proof, though, that the murderer intended this.”

“But he drowned the man when he could have killed him with his hands about his throat, or with a stick or a stone.”

“If he wasn’t himself played out by the struggle and had strength only to hold his victim under water.”

“Let us pass to the death of Mrs Answerth. How old was she?”

“Sixty-nine.”

“Therefore, frail?”

“Yes and no, Inspector. Mrs Answerth had always led a very active life. Up to the time of death, she grew the vegetables in the garden about the house, and attended to the fowls and ducks. She suffered slightly from lumbago, but her heart and lungs were sound. When I last saw her, and that was two years ago, she walked upright and her mind was unimpaired.”

“She was not drowned, I think.”

“She was strangled with rough cord or light rope. The mark of the ligature was quite plain. She was dead when her body entered the water. I believe death was very rapid, and that death was due to asphyxia rather than to shock. There was but little mucus froth and no water in the lungs.

“The body was fully clothed,” the doctor proceeded. “I found more weed adhering to the back of the head than to any other part of it. There was a quantity of weed pressed into the cavity between the neck and the back of the blouse, and there was much weed adhering to the calves of the worsted stockings. All that provides me with a picture. I can see the body being dragged through shallow water by the cord or rope with which the woman was strangled, and then, when the ligature had been removed, pushed out into deep water.”

“Where, it was thought, it would sink,” added Bony. “Assuming that the body had not floated, that it remained submerged till putrefaction brought it to the surface to be found and at once examined by you, what might have been the result?”

“It would be probable that the mark of the ligature had faded into the general slough of the skin, and also the internal appearance would be such as to indicate drowning. Assumption would point strongly to death by drowning, but in view of the Carlow drowning, assumption would not have been accepted.”

“H’m!” Bony smiled his thanks. “Do you remember, Doctor, or you, Mawson, whether during the inquest on Carlow anything was said of the specific gravity of the body?”

“Yes,” promptly replied Lofty. “Old Harston… he’s the coroner, you know… asked me if it wasn’t a fact that the specific gravity of a fat man, like Carlow, was much lighter than that of the body of a lean man.”

“He wanted to know if the body was weighted with anything which submerged it,” added Mawson.

“And I had to give a lecture on the subject,” Lofty continued.

“Mrs Answerth was not a fat woman, was she?” inquired Bony.

“No, she was tall and gaunt. She had no more fat than I have,” answered the doctor.

“And therefore her murderer possibly thought it certain that her body would sink and remain submerged for days.” Bony stood. “The body of the next victim disposed of in Answerth’s Folly will be efficiently weighted.”

Dr Lofty stubbed the butt of his cheroot and rose from his chair.