Leslie Charteris - Prelude for War

His manner was brusque and important; quite plainly, nobody could tell him anything about how to run an inquest, and equally plainly he regarded a jury as nothing but a necessary evil, to be kept firmly in its place.

"If you wish to do so you are entitled to view the body. Do you wish to view the body?" He paused perhaps long enough to take another breath, and said: "Very well, then. We shall proceed to hear evidence of how the body was found. Call the first witness."

The sergeant standing behind him consulted a list of names and called out: "Theodore Bream."

A man who looked rather like a retired carthorse lumbered up on to the dais, sweating profusely, and took the oath. The coroner leaned back in his chair and looked him over like a schoolmaster inspecting a new pupil.

"You are the captain of the Anford Fire Brigade?"

"Yessir."

"On the morning of the eighteenth you examined the ruins of Whiteways."

"Yessir."

"What did you find?"

"In the ruins of the library, among a lot of daybree, I found the body of the deceased."

"Did you find anything else?"

"Yessir. I found bits of a burned-up bedstead — coil springs and suchlike."

"What deductions did you make from the position of the body and the burned fragments of the bedstead?"

"Well, sir, I come to the conclusion that they'd dropped through the ceiling from one of the rooms above."

The coroner rubbed his chin.

"I see. You came to the conclusion that the bed, with the deceased in it, had dropped through the ceiling from one of the rooms above the library when the floor collapsed in the fire."

"Yessir."

"That seems quite plain. Did you find anything to suggest what might have been the cause of the fire?"

"No sir. It might've bin anything. The place was burned out so bad there wasn't enough left to show how it started."

The coroner turned to the jury.

"Have you any questions to ask this witness?"

Hardly giving them any time to answer, he turned again to the sergeant.

"Next witness, please."

"Algernon Sidney Fairweather."

Fairweather went up on to the platform and took the oath. The coroner's manner became less peremptory. He clearly regarded it as a pleasant relief to be able to examine a witness of his own class.

"You are the owner of Whiteways, Mr Fairweather?"

"I am."

"The deceased was a guest in your house on the night of the seventeenth?"

"He was."

"Which room was he occupying?"

"The end bedroom in the west wing, directly above the library."

"So that in the event of the collapse of the floor of his room, his bed would fall through into the library?"

"It would."

The coroner glanced at the jury triumphantly, as much as to say: "There you are, you see." Then he turned back to Fairweather even more deferentially.

"Would you give us your account of what occurred on the night of the fire, Mr Fairweather?"

Fairweather clasped his hands in front of him, frowning seriously with the expression of a man who is carefully and conscientiously marshalling his memories.

"We had dinner a little early that night — at about seven o'clock — because Captain Knightley and Lady Valerie were going to the cinema. They left immediately after dinner, and shortly afterwards Lady Sangore went to her room to write some letters. The rest of us sat and talked in the library until about half-past ten, when Kennet went to bed. That was the last time any of us saw him. At about a quarter past eleven Captain Knightley and Lady Valerie returned, and I should think we stayed up for not more than another quarter of an hour. Then we all went to bed.

"Some time later — I should imagine it was about half-past twelve — I was awakened by the clanging of the fire alarms. I put on a pair of trousers and left my room. At once it became obvious to me that the fire was serious. There was a great deal of smoke on the stairs, and from the sound of the flames and the light they gave I could see that the fire must have taken a firm hold on the ground floor.

"You must understand that I had just been suddenly woken up, and I was somewhat bewildered. As I hesitated, I saw Captain Knightley come along the passage carrying Lady Valerie. Then I heard General Sangore's voice outside shouting 'Hurry up and get out, everybody!' I started to follow Captain Knightley, and I was halfway down the stairs when I met Mr Luker coming up. He said 'Oh, that's all right — I was afraid you hadn't heard. The others are all out.' "

"And then?"

"I ran out into the garden with him. That's about all I can remember. It all happened so quickly that my recollections are a trifle hazy. I still don't know how we came to forget Kennet until it was too late, but I can only imagine that in the excitement Mr Luker and myself mutually misunderstood each other to have accounted for the people we had not seen. It was a tragic mistake which has haunted me ever since."

The coroner wagged his head sympathetically, as if he could feel everything that Fairweather must have suffered.

"I'm sure that we all appreciate your feelings," he said. He turned the papers on his table, and went on, as though apologizing for bringing back any more painful memories: "Have you any idea as to how the fire could have started?"

"None. It may have been a faulty piece of electric wiring, or a cigarette end carelessly dropped somewhere. It must have been something like that."

"Thank you, Mr Fairweather," said the coroner. "Next witness, please."

There was an interruption. Before the sergeant could call out the next name the little black-bearded juryman opened his mouth.

" 'Arf a mo," he said. "I've got some questions I'd like to ask."

The coroner stared at him as though he had been guilty of some indecency. He seemed to find it extraordinary that a member of the jury should wish to ask a question.

The little juryman returned his stare defiantly. He had the air of Ajax defying the lightning.

"And what is your question?" asked the coroner, in a supercilious patronizing tone.

"Didn't the witness 'ave no servants?"

"Er — several," Fairweather said mildly. "But I had given them all leave to attend a dance in Reading, and they did not get back until the fire was practically over. The only one left was my chauffeur, who lives in the lodge, about three hundred yards away from the main building."

"Didn't nobody try to put the fire out?"

"It was hardly possible. It spread too rapidly, and we had nothing to tackle it with."

"Thank you," said the coroner. "Next witness, please."

He contrived to be mildly apologetic and contemptuously crushing at the same time. He seemed to apologize to Fairweather for the trouble and distress he had been caused in answering two altogether ridiculous and irrelevant questions, and simultaneously to point out the little juryman as a pest and a nuisance who would be well advised to shut up and behave himself.

"Kane Luker," called the sergeant.

Luker gave his evidence in a quiet precise voice. He had been sitting up reading when he heard the fire alarm. He left his room and went downstairs, where he discovered that the fire appeared to have started in the library, but it was already too fierce for him to be able to get near it. He opened the front door, and while he was doing so Sir Robert and Lady Sangore came downstairs. He told them to get outside and shout up at the bedroom windows. He started to go down to the lodge to telephone for the fire brigade. He met the chauffeur on the way and sent him back to make the call, and himself returned to the house. As he reached it, Knightley carried Lady Valerie out. He went in and started to climb the stairs, where he met Fairweather. He was sure that everyone must have heard the alarms.

"I said 'Do you know if the others are all out?' and I thought he gave some affirmative answer. It's only since then that I've realized that he must have missed my first words and thought that I said 'The others are all out.' But I agree with him that it will be hard for us to forgive ourselves for the tragic results of our misunderstanding."