John Carr - The Judas Window

'Bending over to look at something?'

'That's right.'

Evelyn and I looked at each other. H.M., nibbling at the stump of his cigar, pushed the time-table across to me.

'Now that you've got that off your chest, why not pay a bit of attention to matters just as relevant? Spencer Hume, for instance. He's a gap in the proceedings, because he didn't testify in court. Not that he did much of importance when he got back to the house; but what he did is interestin’. Y'know, Spencer must have got one hell of a shock when he learned it really was. Jim Answell they'd caught, and not Reginald.'

'Did he know either of the cousins by sight?'

'Yes,' said H.M., with another odd look. 'He knew both of them; and he was the only one in the whole flamin' case who did.'

Table

9.46 Spencer Hume arrives In Grosvenor Street.

Uncle Spencer, vide police state merits, has got an absolutely water-tight alibi. From 5.10 to 6.40 he was walking wards of hospital. At 6.40 he went downstairs and waited in foyer. Finally went out on steps. At 6.43 (fast driving), A. Jordan whizzed up in car and told him to come quickly and take wheel, saying Avory was dead and Mary's fiance was loopy.

Uncle Spencer is o-u-t. Gobble gobble.

6.46-6.50. P.C. Hardcastle tries to question Answell; then telephones to police-station.

6.46-6.50. Spencer Hume takes Amelia Jordan upstairs: doctor necessary.

6.51-6.55. Spencer Hume goes to study. In presence of Fleming and Dyer, Answell says: 'You are a doctor; for God's sake tell them I have been doped.' Spencer says: 'I can find no sign of it.'

Why didn't Spencer own up to truth about drugged drink? Too dangerous?

6.55. Inspector Mottram and Sergeant Raye arrive

First time study is searched by police

6.55-7.45. First examination of Answell by Inspector Mottram; other witnesses questioned; study is searched by Inspector Mottram and Sergeant Raye.

No dust in thin vertical line down shaft of arrow. Very rummy; projected?

Feather torn in half completely; couldn't be done in struggle; powerful clean break - caught somewhere. Mechanism? Projected?

What kind of mechanism? Find out what there might be in archer's house.

(Later.) J. Shanks, odd-jobs man for three houses, reports crossbow missing from box in shed in back garden.

Cross-bow missing.

Golf suit missing.

1 + 1 Equo ne credite, 0, coppers.

7.45. Divisional Police-surgeon Dr Stocking arrives.

7.45-8.10. Examination of body.

Note position of body. Direction of wound? Maybe! Does not

fit.

8.15. Spencer Hume telephones to Mary Hume at Frawnend

Had dinner out, but arrived back in time to get message

8.10-9.40. Further questioning and search of house. Answell collapses.

9.42. Answell's cousin Reginald telephoned to.

Reginald had just arrived at flat, motoring from Rochester. Known to have left Rochester about 5.15; says he had early dinner at hotel along way, and took a long time about it; was rather drunk on arriving back. Cannot remember name of hotel or village.

9.55. Reginald Answell arrives in Grosvenor Street.

10.10. Answell removed to police-station, Reginald going along.

10.35. Mary Hume, taking first train, arrives back.

10.50. Body removed to mortuary; at this time two letters formerly in dead man's pocket are discovered missing.

Mary had pinched them: why?

12. 15. Answell's final statement taken at police-station.

Conclusions: From times and facts given above, there is no doubt as to identity of real murderer. Gobble gobble gobble.

'That's fairly sweeping,' I commented, and looked hard at him. 'Is this supposed to tell us anything? And, by the way, what is the reason for the persistent recurrence of this "gobble-gobble" business?'

'Oh, I dunno. That's how I felt at the time,' said H.M. apologetically. 'It showed I was touchin' the fringes of the truth.'

Evelyn glanced down the list again. 'Well, unless this is a bit of faking on your part, there's something else you can practically eliminate — I mean Reginald. You say he's proved to have left Rochester at 5.15. Rochester's about thirty-three miles from London, isn't it? Yes. So, while it's theoretically possible to drive thirty-three miles in an hour, with all the traffic - and central traffic at that - I don't see how he could have got to Grosvenor Street in time to commit the murder. And you've already eliminated Dr Hume.'

'Eliminated Spencer?' demanded H.M. 'Oh, no, my wench. Not a bit of it.'

'But you yourself admit he's got a water-tight alibi.'

'Oh, alibis!' roared H.M., shaking his fist. He got up and began to waddle about the room, growling. 'The Red Widow murderer had a fine alibi, didn't he? The feller who did the dirty in that ten tea-cups business also had a pretty good one. But that's not what's really botherin' me. What bothers me is that infernal letter Uncle Spencer wrote to the Hume gal last night - swearin' he actually saw the murder done, and that Answell did it after all. Why did he write that? If he lied, why the blazes should he lie? The most insidious bit in it is the suggestion that Answell might be quite sincere about swearin' he's innocent: that he killed Hume and simply doesn't remember it. Oh, my eye! Did you ever hear anyone advance the theory that that was the way Dickens intended to finish Edwin Drood? - Jasper bein' the murderer, but not re-memberin' it: hence the opium-smoking? It's the same idea Wilkie Collins used in The Moonstone for pinchin' the jewel, so I shouldn't be surprised. If my whole great big beautiful theory cracks up on a point like that... but it can't! Burn me, it's not reasonable; or what about the feather. The first person I suspected was Uncle Spencer -'

'You suspected him just because he had an alibi?' I asked.

'It's no good talkin' to you,' said H.M. wearily. ‘You won't see the difficulties. I thought that if he didn't actually commit the murder, he arranged it -'

A new possibility appeared.

‘I remember reading about another of these cases,' I said; 'but it's so long ago that I can't remember whether it was a real happening or a story. A man was found apparently murdered in a room high up in a tower by the edge of the sea. His chest had been blown in with a shotgun, and the weapon was missing. The only clue was a fishing-rod in the room. Unfortunately, the door of the tower had been under observation, and no one was seen to go in or out. The only window was a small one up a smooth wall above the sea. Who killed him, and what had happened to the weapon? ... The secret was fairly simple. It was suicide. He had propped up the shot-gun, facing him, in the window. He stood some feet away and touched the hair-trigger with the fishing-rod. The kick of the gun when it exploded carried it backwards off the window-ledge into the sea: hence it was supposed to be murder and his family collected the insurance. Do you mean that there might have been some device in Avory Hume's study, which he accidentally touched, and it discharged the arrow at him? Or what die devil do you mean?'

'It can't be that,' Evelyn protested. 'If this isn't more mystification, we're to believe that the murderer was actually talking to Hume at the time.'

'That's right,' admitted H.M.

'All the same,' I said, 'it seems that we're straying away from the most important point. No matter who committed the murder, what was the motive? You can't tell me, for instance, that Answell would grab an arrow and stab Hume simply because he believed his future father-in-law had put knock-out drops in a glass of whisky. Unless, of course, he's as mad as they wanted to make out Reginald was. But there's been remarkably little talk about motive in this case. Who else had a shadow of a motive to kill Hume?’