Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

"Then—then he asked me to describe her bedroom at Stillwaters. At that I looked across at her ladyship and she nodded to me, so I did as I was bid. After that the gentleman asked about her ladyship's cosmetics, and what brushes and things she kept on her dressing-table. 'Twas not for me to say I thought that no business of his; and after telling him that I kept all her pots and jars in a special cabinet, I gave him the particulars he wanted. He made me repeat them, then he asked about the ornaments on the mantelpiece and the chest-of-drawers. At length he came to her bedside-table, and wanted to know what was kept on that. I told him her candle and night-light, one or two books and a big cut-glass bottle of scent."

Roger stiffened, drew in a quick breath, and said: "Yes, go on, Jenny."

She began to sob again. "He—he made me repeat that. Then— then he went back to the dressing-table and asked me if I had ever seen that particular scent-bottle on it; and—and I had to admit that I hadn't. I—I knew that I'd said something I didn't ought by then. But he'd become fierce and hor-horrible. He banged his fist on the edge of the box where I was standing and glowered at me as—as if he meant to strip my soul bare. Suddenly he—he pulled the bottle out from under his gown and thrust it within an inch of my face. He—he—he made me swear it was that bottle and no—no other; and that I'd never seen it anywhere except—except beside her ladyship's bed."

The grim significance of poor Jenny's evidence was already clear to Roger. To account for the reek of scent from Sir Humphrey's clothes and the bottle being found at the foot of the bed, Georgina had led everyone to believe that he had knocked it off the dressing-table with his whip, then fallen in the pool that the liquid had made on the floor. But the place where he had collapsed was a good twelve feet from her bedside-table; so, if it had been knocked from there he could not possibly have rolled in the spilled scent. The inference was damnably plain. She must have thrown it at him.

*****

Roger was still endeavouring to comfort Jenny when Colonel Thursby came in. He seemed to have aged ten years since Roger had last seen him. After the briefest greeting, the housekeeper was sum­moned to take charge of Jenny, and the two men went upstairs.

"I landed from Sweden only after mid-day, Sir," Roger said, as soon as they were alone, "and learned of this ghastly business less than an hour ago. 'Tis beyond words terrible."

The Colonel slumped into a chair. "It is indeed! This is the third day of the trial. The final speeches for the prosecution and the defence were made this afternoon, and no sane man could doubt that the balance of evidence is heavily against us. To-morrow morning the judge will sum up. Somehow I must bring myself to listen to the cold logic he will employ; then await the verdict. But I already know what it will be. And there is nothing more that I can do."

On learning that the situation was now so desperate, Roger's heart was gripped by a fresh horror. But it was clear that if anything could still be done to save Georgina it lay with him to do it; for the Colonel was at the end of his tether. Going over to a side-table, he poured out a wineglass full of brandy, brought it over to the distraught father, and said:

"All is not yet lost, Sir. Thank God I got back when I did. Tomorrow morning we will ask the Court to hear fresh evidence. I will go into the box and declare that, hearing the noise of an altercation in Georgina's bedroom, I ran in, and, on seeing Sir Humphrey hit her with his whip, I struck him dead."

Colonel Thursby took a gulp of brandy, coughed, and shook his head. " 'Twould be useless, Roger. I've never doubted your willing­ness to shoulder the blame for what occurred; but to attempt to do so now would be only to sacrifice yourself without saving her."

"It has always been my belief that 'twas my blow upon his heart that killed him. I cannot stand by and let her—let her pay the awful penalty for my act."

"Nay. We must endeavour to put a check upon our natural feel­ings and, however hard, try to regard the matter dispassionately." The Colonel closed his eyes wearily, then went on after a moment: "None of us know, and no one will ever know now, what actually caused his death. It may have been your blow; it may have been the scent-bottle, that Georgina threw at him. Again, neither injury need neces­sarily have been sufficiently serious to prove fatal. It may be that ex­haustion and rage had so wrought upon his brain that before he was struck by either fist or bottle he was already beyond escaping an apoplexy."

"I know it," moaned Roger. "I know it! But the fact that either or neither of us may be guilty of his death cannot, from what you say, save one of us from being brought to book now. And, if so, I am deter­mined that it shall be myself."

"Were it possible for you to take her place I would be hard put to it to dissuade you from doing so," the Colonel sighed. "God knows, 'twould be a frightful choice of evils; only the fact that I love her better than aught else in the world would force me to countenance it. But you have yet to hear my point. No one but you, I and she are aware that you struck him, or even that you were with her when he died."

"Count Vorontzoff saw the weal that Sir Humphrey's lash left on my hand. He told Georgina so; and of his conviction that her husband died as the result of a brawl at which I was present."

"No matter. No one else appears to have noticed the mark, and it has long since disappeared. Vorontzoff has said nothing of it and there is not a shred of evidence against you. On the other hand, alas, it is now proven beyond doubt that Georgina threw the bottle. Had you afterwards run your sword through Humphrey Etheredge's body and left it there as a mark of your identity, 'twould still make no difference to the case that has been established against her. They could anywhere but beside Georgina's bed, which makes it beyond doubt that she must have thrown it."

"Could it not have been pleaded that she did so in self-defence?"

"We considered such a course," said the Colonel, "and I put a hypothetical case to Counsel, but he advised against it. Had Georgina done so in defending herself against anyone but her husband she would have been accounted justified. But this was no case of a woman defending her honour; and in English law a wife is still her husband's chattel. Whether a wife be good or bad he is within his rights to give her a beating at any time he may feel so inclined. Had Humphrey threatened to kill her, that would have been different; but there is not the faintest suggestion that, at any time, he had meditated an attempt upon her life. The legal view is that no husband would be safe were a wife permitted to retaliate for a beating by snatching up some possibly lethal weapon; and that for a wife to kill her husband so, is one of the most heinous forms of murder."

*****

For another hour they talked round and round the ghastly impasse from which it seemed there was no way to rescue the woman for whom they both felt so deeply. Then Roger said: "I see only one line as yet untried. From all you tell me no suggestion has so far been put forward that Sir Humphrey Etheredge had gone insane some time before he died. If it could be shown that Georgina believed him mad, and feared that he meant to kill her, she would have been justified in taking any steps she could to save herself."

"That means she would have to confess to having thrown the bottle and having consistently perjured herself these past three days."

"I know it. But if we succeed in making our case we can save her from the ultimate penalty. The charge would still be nothing less than manslaughter and perjury, but she would get off with trans­portation for life."