John Carr - The Judas Window

'You swear by Almighty God that the evidence you shall give -

'Yes.'

('She's frightened to death,' whispered Evelyn. I pointed out that she gave not a sign of it, but Evelyn only shook her head and nodded back again towards the witness.)

Whatever the truth might have been, her very presence there indicated thunder on the way. Even her importance seemed emphasized by the fact that she was rather small. A new interest quickened the press-box. H.M., who had difficulty in getting his own voice clear, waited until the stir of interest had died down; only the judge was unimpressed.

'Hurruml Is your name Mary Elizabeth Hume?' 'Yes.'

'You're the only child of the deceased, and you live at 12 Grosvenor Street?'

'Yes,' she answered, nodding in a somnambulistic way.

'At a Christmas house-party at Frawnend, in Sussex, did you meet the accused?'

'Yes.'

'D'ye love him, Miss Hume?'

'I love him very much,' she said, and her eyes flickered briefly. If it were possible to have a more hollow silence than had existed before, it held the court now.

'You know he's here accused of murderin' your father?'

'Of course I know it.'

'Now, ma'am - miss, I'll ask you to look at this letter I have here. It's dated, "January 3rd, nine-thirty p.m.," the evening before the day of the murder. Will you tell the jury whether you wrote it?'

'Yes, I wrote it.'

It was read aloud, and ran:

DEAR FATHER:

Jimmy has suddenly decided to come to London to-morrow morning, so I thought I had better tell you. He will take the train I usually travel by - you know it, nine o'clock here and a quarter to eleven at Victoria. I know he means to see you some time tomorrow.

Love,

MARY

PS. You will take care of that other matter, won't you?

'Do you know whether your father received this letter?'

'Yes, he did. As soon as I heard he was dead, I came to town, naturally; and I took it out of his pocket the same night - the night he died, you know.'

'What was the occasion of your writin' it?'

'On Friday evening - that Friday evening, you know - Jim suddenly decided to go up to town, to get me an engagement ring.'

'Did you try to dissuade him, to keep him from goin' to town?'

'Yes, but I could not do too much of it or he would have been suspicious.'

'Why did you try to dissuade him?'

The witness moistened her lips. 'Because his cousin, Captain Answell, you know, had gone up to London on Friday evening with the intention of seeing my father next day; and I was afraid he and Jim might meet at my father's house.'

'Did you have a reason why you didn't want them to meet at your father's?'

'Yes, yes!'

'What was the reason?'

'A little before, in the same week, you know,' replied Mary Hume, 'Captain Answell had asked me, or rather my father, to pay £5,000 hush-money.'

XII

'From a Find to a Check -

‘You mean that man there?' asked H.M., pointing with a big flipper and again ruthlessly singling him out.

It was like an inexorable spotlight. Reginald Answell's face had turned a curious colour, a muddy colour, and he sat bolt upright; you could see the rise and fall of his chest. At that moment, looking back on past events, I saw the pattern take form. He had thought he was quite safe: he and this girl were linked together in such fashion that he had thought she would not dare to betray it. She had even promised him, with remarkably well-simulated terror, that she would remain quiet. You could understand now the reason for that hard docility, the meek: 'Thanks for everything.' A scrap of their conversation came back to me. First his significant: 'Fair exchange; it's all agreed, then?' And her colourless: 'You know me, Reg,' while she contemplated this.

Three voices in the court-room spoke in quick succession.

The first was the Attorney-General's: 'Is Captain Answell on trial?'

The second was H.M.'s: 'Not yet.'

The third was the judge's: 'Proceed, Sir Henry.'

H.M. turned back to the witness, whose plump and pretty face was composed, and who was looking at the back of Reginald's head.

'So Captain Answell had asked you, or rather your father, to pay five thousand pounds blackmail?'

'Yes. He knew I hadn't got it, of course, but he felt sure he could get it out of father.'

'Uh-huh. What reason did he have for blackmailin' you?'

'I had been his mistress.'

'Yes, but there was another and stronger reason - much stronger?'

'Oh, yes.'

For the second time during that trial, the prisoner sprang to his feet and was about to speak out from the dock. He had not expected this. H.M. made a savage gesture in his direction.

'What was that other reason, Miss Hume?'

'Captain Answell had taken a lot of photographs of me.'

'What kind of photographs?'

Her voice was blurred. 'Without any clothes on, and in - certain postures.'

'I did not catch that,' said the judge. 'Will you please speak up? What did you say?'

'I said,' replied Mary Hume dearly, 'without any clothes on, and in certain postures.'

The calm inexorability of the judge made everyone in that room squirm.

'What postures?' asked Mr Justice Rankin.

H.M. intervened. 'My lord, just in order to show why the prisoner has been so blamed anxious not to talk about this, and why he's acted in certain ways, I've got one of those photographs here. Across the back of it is written: "One of the best things she ever did for me," in what I'd like the witness to identify as Captain Answell's handwriting. Then I'd like to submit it to you to suggest that it can go to the jury as bein' evidence of what we're trying to establish.'

The photograph was handed up. While the judge looked at it, there was a hush of such bursting quality that you could hear it. It was to be wondered what the witness was feeling; every eye in the room had glanced at her, just once, and had seen her in other costume - or the lack of it. Sir Walter Storm made no comment or objection. .

'You may show this to the jury,' said the judge tonelessly.

It travelled along before two lines of impassive faces. 'How many of these photographs are there?'

'A-about a dozen.'

'This one here, the one you gave me to put in evidence; is it the only one of 'em you've got?'

'Yes, Reg has the others. He promised to give me the rest if I didn't say anything in court about his trying to get hush-money out of me.'

Reginald Answell got slowly to his feet and began to make his way out of the court-room. He tried to walk with equal slowness and casualness. No one, of. course, attempted to comment or restrain him. But H.M. deliberately allowed a space while the pressure of the court was focused on him like his own camera. Chairs, people at the solicitors' table, elbows, feet, everything seemed to get in his way, and made him go faster: it was like someone bumping over rows of feet in a theatre, trying to get out without attracting attention along the line of stalls. By the time he reached the door he was running. The policeman on duty there gave him one look, and stood aside. We heard the whish of the glass door out into the hall.

'So,' observed H.M. in a heavy tone. 'Let's take up the story of those pictures. When were they taken?'

Again she moistened her lips. 'A-about a year ago.'

'Had you broken off your relations with Captain Answell before you met the prisoner?'

'Oh, my God, ages before.'

'Did you ask for the photographs?'

'Yes, but he just laughed and said they would do no harm.'

'What'd Captain Answell do when he heard you were engaged to the prisoner?'

'He took me aside, and congratulated me. He said it was a really excellent thing, and he approved of it.'