was a murder trial in the Assize Court, every scrap of information would have to be presented in the cause of justice. But again I emphasize that this is an inquest, not a trial. We are here to determine who, where, when and by what means these two men came to their deaths – and I feel you have ample evidence before you to come to a conclusion.’
After delivering this homily, he briefly summarized the evidence they had heard about the two deaths and then charged the jury with providing verdicts on each victim, offering them the choices of natural causes, accident, suicide or unlawful killing.
The result was never in doubt, and within minutes, after a muttered consultation between the ten stalwart Breconians, the beefy butcher rose and provided Charles Matthews with what he wanted.
After expressing his sympathy to the families from Ty Croes and thanking the jury and witnesses for their help, Billy Brown asked the court to rise and the coroner gathered up his papers and left through the door at the side of the bench.
Outside, Arthur Crippen and Detective Sergeant Nichols were standing talking with the two couples from the farm, but broke away for a moment to say goodbye to the Garth House team.
‘Thanks for your help, doctors, you did a grand job for us,’ said Crippen. ‘If the opportunity to use you again comes up, we’ll look forward to seeing you!’
As they walked towards the gates, the coroner’s officer also thanked them and recommended the Wellington Hotel if they wanted some lunch. This was a large Georgian building just up from the Shire Hall, one of the focal points of the small town. As it was now noon, Richard steered his colleagues towards it and treated them to a celebratory meal.
As they sat over their oxtail soup in the old-fashioned dining room, Angela asked Sian what she thought of her first visit to a court.
‘Great, it’s all so medieval!’ she enthused. ‘That business of the coroner’s officer chanting the “Oyez” bit! Do they always do that?’
Richard grinned. ‘It’s dying out, but often in the country courts the coroner’s officer likes to have his say. Wait until you go to the Assizes, then you’ll see scarlet robes, wigs and velvet breeches!’
‘Can I come to the Gloucester trial when you go, doctor?’ she asked, almost like a child wanting to visit a funfair.
‘I think Moira has booked a visit there, but I might have to go for more than one day, so be good and I’ll see what I can do!’
Over their gammon steaks with egg and pineapple, a treat that had only come back on the menu in the last couple of years, Angela remarked on the skilful way in which the coroner had avoided the embarrassing background to Littleman’s death.
‘I’ll bet the jury were bursting to know what was in that suicide letter,’ she said. ‘There’ll be some tongues wagging in the neighbourhood tonight, all with their theories about what was really going on at that farm.’
Richard speared a chip with his fork. ‘I think he cut a few legal corners this morning – but who’s to stop him? Coroners are almost a law unto themselves, especially out here in the sticks. Unless a family challenges his verdict and takes it to a Divisional Court for appeal, what he says, goes.’
‘Well, this family certainly won’t object,’ said Angela. ‘No doubt they’re desperately relieved that their dirty washing hasn’t been hung out in public.’
After apple tart with custard for dessert and a cup of coffee, Richard paid the bill and they walked back to their car. He drove leisurely back through the sunlit countryside, Angela noticing that on the main roads traffic was noticeably greater than it had been a few years earlier, now that new cars were freely available after their scarcity during the immediate postwar period.
There were still plenty of pre-war cars about, but now the sleeker Fords, Austins and Vauxhalls abounded, with foreign cars like her own Renault becoming too common to be curiosities any longer.
For Sian, the Wye Valley appeared all too soon, and after the last few miles down the side of the river from Monmouth, they finally pulled into the yard at Garth House satisfied with a day away from their usual routine.
EIGHTEEN
An early start on Tuesday took Richard and Angela to Newport Station, from where the Red Dragon hurried them eastwards. As he had little doubt that the two War Office bureaucrats always travelled first class, he again overcame his Welsh parsimony and settled his partner and himself in a similar coach on the London train.
Angela, with the prospect of half a day parading around Bond Street, was dressed in a very smart A-line suit of pale blue under a long swing-backed coat of a darker blue, with a matching pillbox hat. Richard appreciated her elegance, but hoped that the suitcase he had carried for her contained something more suitable for attending an exhumation. He had another reason for being glad that she looked so good, as he intended to surprise her by taking her to a theatre and a good meal that evening.
After they had left their overnight cases at the Great Western Royal Hotel at the end of Paddington’s huge station, they took the Tube to Oxford Circus. Here they parted company, Angela heading to the shops and Richard saying that he would walk up to the Royal Society of Medicine and then to BMA House in Tavistock Square However, he diverted somewhat, going to West Street, off Charing Cross Road, where he managed to get two tickets at the Ambassadors Theatre for that night’s performance of Agatha Christie’s
They had arranged to meet back at the hotel at five o’clock, and Richard found his partner sitting in the foyer lounge with a tray of tea and pastries. Alongside her low armchair were several expensive-looking carrier bags, though the names on them meant nothing to him except to suggest that Angela had just spent a lot of money.
‘Have you checked on our rooms?’ he asked as she poured him tea. When they had arrived that morning, the rooms were not ready for them and they had left their cases with the porter.
Angela smiled at him mischievously.
‘You maligned Moira’s intentions to keep us apart, Richard. We’ve got adjoining rooms!’
Richard smiled back rather weakly at her, not knowing how to take this. ‘Jolly good! What do you think we should do to pass the evening?’
Handing him the plate of rather sickly-looking cakes, she suggested a cinema, if there was a decent film to be found.
‘Oh, no, we’re not!’ he announced with a hint of triumph. He dipped into his inner pocket and waved a pair of theatre tickets at her. ‘We’re going to see
The play was as enjoyable as they had expected, including the exhortation of the management not to divulge the final twist, so as not to spoil the surprise for other prospective patrons.
After the show, Richard’s other surprise was to take Angela to Shaftesbury Avenue for a meal in a Chinese restaurant, a novelty for her and a bit of nostalgia for him, after all his years in Singapore. Though there had been a couple of Chinese restaurants in London for many years, they were still unknown to most people. Angela tackled king prawns in oyster sauce and sweet-and-sour chicken with some trepidation, abandoning chopsticks for a fork, in spite of Richard’s attempts at rapid tuition. However, she enjoyed the new experience, and a bottle of Italian white wine helped to make the occasion go with a swing.
It was late when they took a taxi back to Paddington. Both feeling pleased with life, she slipped an arm through his as they lolled in the back of the big Austin.
‘Thank you, Richard, that was a really lovely evening,’ she said. ‘You’re a nice old chap, aren’t you?’
He was not sure how to take this and wondered if he should put an arm around her shoulders, but a sudden lurch of the taxi as the driver decided not to jump the traffic lights in Edgware Road spoiled the moment and soon they were at the hotel.
On the first floor, they stopped outside their bedroom doors, which were side by side. After a couple of gins and half a bottle of wine, Angela fumbled a little with her key and her partner came to help in finding the keyhole. As the door opened, she grinned up at him in the dim light.
‘Somehow seems a bit naughty, this!’ she giggled. ‘Staying in a London hotel, in adjacent rooms!’ He avoided reminding her that they had slept almost every night for the last six months alone in an otherwise empty house, and
