Ngaio Marsh - Collected Short Fiction of Ngaio Marsh

Judge: Are you chewing something, Mr. Tidwell?

Tidwell: Yar.

Judge: Remove it.

Golding: You’re sure of this? The wrapping was a page from a comic publication, was it?

Tidwell: That’s what I said, din’ I? I seen it, din’ I?

Golding: If I tell you that Major Ecclestone says that the liver was wrapped in sheets from the Daily Telegraph , what would you say?

Tidwell: ’E wants is ’ead read. Or else ’e was squiffy. (The Major rises and is restrained by the Usher.)

Golding (glaring at the Major, turning to Tidwell): Yes. Yes. Very good. Now, will you tell the court how you put the parcels away?

Tidwell: Like I always done. Opened the safe and bunged ’em in, din’ I?

Golding: Anything at all unusual happen during this visit?

Tidwell: Naow.

Golding: You left by the side gate into the right-of-way, didn’t you?

Tidwell: S’right.

Golding: This would bring you face to face with the side wall of Miss Freebody’s house. Did you notice anything at all unusual about it?

Tidwell: Nothin’ unusual. What you might call a regular occurrence. She was snooping. Froo the blind. You know. Froo the slats—you know. Nosey. She’s always at it.

Golding: Did you do anything about it?

Tidwell (Turns to accused, gives a wolf whistle and a sardonic salute. She is furious) : Just for giggles. (Whistles)

Golding: Did Miss Freebody react in any way?

Tidwell: Scarpered.

Golding: Why should she spy upon you, do you think?

Tidwell: Me? Not me. I reckon she was waiting for the boyfriend.

Miss Freebody: How dare you say such things…

Golding: The boyfriend?

Tidwell: S’right. (He guffaws and wipes away the grin with his hand.) Pardon me.

Golding (He has been taken aback by this development but keeps his composure) : Yes. Well. I don’t think we need concern ourselves with any visitor the accused may or may not have been expecting.

Tidwell: Her? Not her. Her .

Judge: What is all this, Mr. Golding?

Golding: I’m afraid it’s beyond me, my lord. Some sort of bucolic joke, I imagine.

(Judge grunts.)

Golding: That’s all I have to ask this witness, my lord. (He sits down.)

(Thomas Tidwell makes as if to leave the box . Defense Counsel rises.)

Judge: Stay where you are, Mr. Tidwell. (He has decided to push this unexpected development a little further.) Mr. Tidwell, when a moment ago you said “not her ”—meaning the accused—but “ her ,” to whom did you refer?

Tidwell: It’s well-known, innit? His missus.

Judge: Mrs. Ecclestone?

Major: What the devil are you talking about?

Tidwell: S’right. Every Friday, like I said, reg’lar as clockwork.

Judge: What is as regular as clockwork?

Tidwell: ’E is. Droppin’ in. On ’er.

Judge: Who is?

Tidwell: ’Im. It’s well-known. The doctor.

Major: God damn it, I demand an explanation. Death and damnation—(Usher moves to restrain the Major.)

Miss Freebody (laughing) : That’s right. You tell them.

Golding: Major Ecclestone! Sit down.

Usher: Quiet!

(The commotion subsides.)

Judge: For the last time, Major Ecclestone, I warn you that unless you can behave yourself with propriety you will be held in contempt of court. Mr. Golding.

Golding: My lord, I do apologize. Major, stand up and apologize to his Lordship. (The Major mutters.) Stand up then, and do it. Go on.

Major (He looks as if he will spontaneously combust. He rises, blows out his breath, comes to attention and bellows in court-martial tones) : Being under orders to do so, I tender my regrets for any apparently overzealous conduct of which I may appear to have been unwittingly guilty.

Judge: Very well. Sit down and—and—and imagine yourself to be gagged. (The Major sits. He is troubled with indigestion.) Yes, Mr. O’Connor…

O’Connor: Now, Mr. Tidwell, you say, do you, that you know positively that Dr. Swale visited Major Ecclestone’s house after you left it?

Tidwell: ’Course I do.

O’Connor: How do you know?

Tidwell: I seen ’im, din’ I?

O’Connor: What time was this?

Tidwell: Free firty.

O’Connor: Describe where you were and precisely how you saw Dr. Swale.

Tidwell: I’m on me bike in the lane, arn’ I, and I bike past ’is car and ’e’s gettin’ aht of it, inn’e? (O’Connor signs for him to address the Judge. He does so.) I turn the corner and I park me bike and come back and look froo the rear window of the car and see ’im turn into the right-of-way. (He giggles.)

O’Connor: Go on.

Tidwell (still vaguely to the Judge): Like I see ’im before. Other Fridays. “Ullo, ullo, ullo!” I says. “At it again?” So I nips back to the turning into the right-of-way, stroll up very natural and easy and see ’im go in at the garden gate. And let ’imself in by the back door, carryin’ ’is little black bag. No excuse me’s. Very much at ’ome. Oh dear!

O’Connor: And then?

Tidwell: I return to bizzness, don’ I? Back to the shop and first with the news.

O’Connor: Thank you.

(He sits . Prosecution Counsel rises.)

Golding: Did you notice the accused’s bathroom window while you were engaged in this highly distasteful piece of espionage?

Tidwell: ’Ow does the chorus go?

Golding: I beg your pardon?

Tidwell: I don’ get cher.

Golding: While you were spying on Dr. Swale, could you and did you see the accused’s bathroom window?

Tidwell: Oh, ar! I get cher. Yar. I seen it. And ’er, snooping as per, froo the blind.

Golding: Dr. Swale carried his professional bag, I think you said?

Tidwell: S’right.

Golding: And he went straight into the house? Without pausing, for instance, by the safe?

Tidwell: I couldn’t see the safe, where I was, could I? But ’e went in.

Golding: Quite so. To his patient who was ill upstairs.

Tidwell: Oh, yeah?

Golding: I have one more question. Do you deliver meat at the accused’s house?

Tidwell: Yar.

Golding: When was your last call there, previous to the 4th April?

Tidwell: Free days before. She gets ’er order reg’lar on Wednesdays.

Golding: Do you remember what it was?

Tidwell: Easy. Chops. Bangers. And—wait for it, wait for it .

Golding: Please answer directly. What else?

Tidwell: Liver.

Golding: I call Mrs. Ecclestone.

Usher: Mrs. Ecclestone.

(Mrs. Ecclestone comes in with the Usher. Enters the box and takes the oath. While she is doing so we see Dr. Swale and the Major and then the accused, leaning forward and staring at her . Mrs. Ecclestone is a singularly attractive woman, beautifully dressed and aged about thirty-five. There is a slight stir throughout the court At the end of the oath, she makes a big smile at the Judge.)

Golding: You are Mrs. Ecclestone? (She assents.) What are your first names, please?

Mrs. Ecclestone: Barbara Helen.

Golding: And you live at The Elms, No. 1 Sherwood Grove, Fulchester?

Mrs. Ecclestone: Yes.

Golding: Thank you. Mrs. Ecclestone, I want you to tell his Lordship and the jury something of the relationship between you and the accused. Going back, if you will, to the time when you first came to live in your present house.

Mrs. Ecclestone: We used to see her quite often in her garden and—and—