John Carr - The Judas Window

'Is one feather always a different colour from the rest, like this?'

'Yes, the guide feather; it shows you where to fit the arrow on the string.'

'When you buy these arrows,' pursued H.M., in a rumbling and dreamy tone, while the other stared at him, 'are the feathers already attached, or do you fasten on your own?'

'As a rule they're already attached. Naturally. But some people prefer to put on their own type of feathers.' 'Am I right in thinkin' the deceased did?'

'Yes. I don't know how you know it; but he used a different type. Most arrows have turkey-feathers. Hume preferred goose-feathers, and put them on himself: I suppose he liked the old grey-goose-feather tradition. These are goose-feathers. Old Shanks, the odd-jobs man, usually fastened them on.'

'And this little joker here: the guide-feather, you call it. Am I rightly instructed when I say he used a special type of dye, of his own invention, to colour the guide-feather?'

'Yes, he did. In his workshop -'

'His workshop I' said H.M., coming to life. 'His workshop! Just where was this workshop? Get the plan of the house and show us.'

There was a general ruffling and unrolling of plans among the jury. Several of us stirred in our seats, wondering what the old man might have up the sleeve of that disreputable gown. Randolph Fleming, with a hairy red finger on the plan, looked up and frowned.

'It's here. It's a little detached building in the back garden, about twenty yards from the house. I think it was intended to be a greenhouse once; but Hume didn't care, for that sort of thing. It's partly glass.'

H.M. nodded. 'What did the deceased keep there?'

'His archery equipment. Bows, strings, arrows, drawing-gloves; things like that. The odd-jobs man dyed the feathers there, too.'

'What else?'

'If you want the whole catalogue,' retorted the witness, 'I'll give it to you. Arm-guards, waist-belts for the arrows, worsted tassels to clean the points with, a grease-pot or two for the drawing-fingers of die glove - and a few tools, of course. Hume was a good man with his hands.'

'Nothing else?'

'Nothing that I remember.'

'You're sure of that, now?'

The witness snorted.

'So. Now, you've testified that that arrow couldn't 'a' been fired. I suggest to you that that statement wasn't what you meant at all. You'll agree that the arrow could have been projected?'

'I don't see what you mean. What's the difference?'

'What's the difference? Looky here I You see this inkwell? Well, if I threw it at you right now, it wouldn't be fired from a bow; but you'll thoroughly agree that it would be projected. Wouldn't it?'

'Yes.'

'Yes. And you could take that arrow and project it at me?'

'I could!' said the witness.

His tone implied: 'And, by God, I'd like to.' Both of them had powerful voices, which were growing steadily more audible. At this point Sir Walter Storm, the Attorney-General, rose with a clearing of the throat.

'My lord,' said Sir Walter, in tones whose richness and calm would have rebuked a bishop, 'I do not like to interrupt my learned friend. But I should only like to enquire whether my learned friend is suggesting that this arrow, which weighs perhaps three ounces, could have been thrown so as to penetrate eight inches into a human body? -1 can only suggest that my learned friend appears to be confusing an arrow with an assegai, not to say a harpoon.'

The back of H.M.'s wig began to bristle.

Lollypop made a fierce wig-wagging gesture.

'Me lord,' replied H.M., with a curious choking noise, 'what I meant will sort of emerge in my next question to the witness.'

'Proceed, Sir Henry.'

H.M. got his breath. 'What I mean is this,' he said to Fleming. 'Could this arrow have been fired from a crossbow?’

There was a silence. The judge put down his pen carefully. He turned his round face with the effect of a curious moon.

'I still do not understand, Sir Henry,' interposed Mr Justice Rankin. 'What exactly is a cross-bow?'

T got one right here,' said H.M.

From under his desk he dragged out a great cardboard box such as those which are used to pack suits. From this he took a heavy, deadly-looking mechanism whose wood and steel shone with some degree of polish. It was not long in the stock, which was shaped like that of a dwarf rifle: sixteen inches at most. But at the head was a broad semi-circle of flexible steel, to each end of which was attached a cord running back to a notched windlass, with an ivory handle, on the stock. A trigger connected with this windlass. Down the centre of the flat barrel ran a groove. The cross-bow, whose stock was inlaid with mother-of-pearl, should have seemed incongruous in H.M.'s hands under all those peering eyes. It was not. It suddenly looked more like a weapon of the future than a weapon of the past.

'This one,' pursued H.M., completely unselfconscious like a child with a toy, 'is the short "stump" cross-bow. Sixteenth-century French cavalry. Principle's this, y'see. It's wound up - like this.' He began to turn the handle. To the accompaniment of an ugly clicking noise, the cords began to move and pull back the corners of the steel horns. 'Down that groove goes a steel bolt called a quarrel. The trigger's pressed, and releases it like a catapult. Out goes the bolt with all the weight of Toledo steel released behind it... The bolt's shorter than an arrow. But it could fire an arrow.'

He snapped the trigger, with some effect. Sir Walter Storm rose. The Attorney-General's voice quieted an incipient buzz.

'My lord,' he said gravely, 'all this is very interesting -whether or not it is evidence. Does my learned friend put forward as an alternative theory that this crime was committed with the singular apparatus he has there?'

He was a trifle amused. The judge was not.

'Yes; I was about to ask you that, Sir Henry.'

H.M. put down the cross-bow on his desk. 'No, my lord. This bow comes from the Tower of London. I was illustratin'.' He turned towards the witness again. 'Did Avory Hume ever own any cross-bows?'

'As a matter of fact, he did,' replied Fleming.

From the press box just under the jury, two men who had to make early afternoon editions got up and tiptoed out on egg-shells. The witness looked irritated but interested.

'Long time ago,' he added with a growl. 'The Woodmen of Kent experimented with cross-bows one year. They weren't any good. They were cumbersome, and they hadn't got any range compared to arrows.'

'Uh-huh. How many cross-bows did the deceased own?'

'Two or three, I think.'

'Was any of 'em like this?'

‘I believe so. That was three years ago, and -'

'Where did he keep the bows?'

'In that shed in the back garden.'

'But you forgot that a minute ago, didn't you?'

'It slipped my mind, yes. Naturally.'

They were both bristling again. Fleming's heavy nose and jaw seemed to come together like Punch's.

'Now let's have your opinion as an expert: could that arrow have been fired from a bow like this?'

'Not with any accuracy. It's too long, and it would fit too loosely. You'd send the shot wild at twenty yards.'

'Could it have been fired, I'm asking you?'

‘I suppose it could.'

'You SUPPOSE it could? You know smackin' well it could, don't you? Here, gimme that arrow and I'll show you.'

Sir Walter Storm was on his feet, suavely. 'A demonstration will not be necessary, my lord. We accept my learned friend's statement. We also appreciate that the witness is merely attempting to express an honest opinion under somewhat trying circumstances.'

('This is what I meant,' Evelyn whispered to me. 'You see? They'll bait the old bear until he can't see the ring for blood.')

It was certainly the general impression that H.M. had badly mismanaged things, in addition to proving nothing. His last two questions were asked in an almost plaintive tone.