A Javelin for Jonah

alcoholic depression. Mr. Henry, I am afraid, proved a thorn in the flesh of his (supposedly) own side.”

“But is Henry qualified to express that sort of opinion?”

“Oh, yes. Until he accepted a partnership at Joynings he was a well-known psychiatrist.”

“You knew him, then, before you came to see me?”

“That argues a degree of acquaintanceship to which I do not aspire. I have seen him at conferences occasionally. I do not remember that I ever spoke to him until I came here.”

“And he’s Medlar’s partner? Well, I’m hanged! I say, I suppose that doesn’t stink a bit, does it?” asked Laura.

“Mr. Henry—I know his surname, of course—has always been interested in young people. At one time he was psychiatric consultant to a county education authority, I believe. I should imagine that he finds his work here very interesting and rewarding.”

“And profitable, I imagine,” said Laura.

“Now, mamma, not a word against Henry,” said Hamish. “I like him very much.”

“What was the evidence on which Mr. Medlar was taken before the magistrates?” asked Laura.

“According to Ferdinand, who furnished me with such facts as I know, it was asserted that he was alone in the house with his wife when it happened.”

“Didn’t they live at the school, then?”

“Yes, but there was some sort of jamboree which involved all the boys and which the servants had leave to attend.”

“Why didn’t Medlar attend it?”

“He said that he dared not leave his wife in the house alone, and Henry concurred in this. Mrs Medlar, because of her disability, never attended school functions, so the police took the view that opportunity had knocked at Mr. Medlar’s door and that it was too much of a coincidence that his wife had been drowned under such circumstances.”

“And under such water,” said Laura. “Personally, I agree with the police. I think it was fishy in the extreme.”

“Your choice of metaphor, mamma, may be exact, but it is unfortunate, perhaps,” said Hamish. “Anyway, if Henry ever did have any doubts, I’m wondering whether the murder of Jonah hasn’t resolved them.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, there is such a thing as blackmail. Suppose some evidence was available which showed that Medlar was guilty and that Jones had come across it? After all, Medlar had never been brought to trial and acquitted. A case against him could still be made to stand up, couldn’t it? Don’t you think Jones could have been blackmailing Medlar for years and that Medlar got sick and tired of it? I really believe that if anybody blackmailed me I’d do my level best to lay him out. But if Henry’s evidence could save Medlar from being sent for trial, why did the prosecution call him? Naturally the defence wouldn’t, not at a preliminary hearing.”

“The police intended that he should assent to their lawyer’s submission that Mrs Medlar’s condition was as I have described it and that it was in Mr. Medlar’s interests, emotionally as well as financially, that he should be rid of her. The defence, however, cross-examined Mr. Henry with intent to show that she was quite capable of drowning herself, because she was either too drunk to know what she was doing, or too lacking in mental stability to reject the idea of suicide.”

“Didn’t the prosecution call any other witnesses? The police are usually cautious about prosecuting a man unless they’re pretty sure of their case.”

“There was also the question of the will. It was argued by the prosecution that Mrs Medlar was of sound mind when she made the will and that therefore it was valid and that Mr. Medlar knew this and had killed her in order to get hold of the money. Unfortunately for them, they then called Mr. Jones, the deceased wife’s brother and only surviving relative.”

“Pickled, I suppose,” said Hamish.

“I should hope not! All the same, there is no doubt that he appears to have told a garbled story and the magistrates decided that what they had heard was insufficient to justify a committal.”

“So, between them, Henry and Jones saved Medlar’s bacon,” commented Hamish.

“And both have been substantially rewarded,” said Laura. “Up to the time of Jones’s death, that is to say. And the will stood up all right, did it?”

“Oh, yes. Two doctors agreed that the poor woman was compos mentis when she made the will eight years earlier and this meant that Mr. Medlar inherited the money.”

“Why was Jones brought into it?”

“He was supposed to testify that he had heard Mr. Medlar utter threats against his wife. By the time his cross- examination was over, however, it seemed just as likely, on the face of it, that Mr. Jones had drowned his sister in exasperation because she was leaving nothing to him, as that Mr. Medlar had drowned his wife because she had left everything to him.”

“A sort of non-proven, in fact,” said Laura.

“But was Jones anywhere in the neighbourhood at the time?” asked Hamish.

“The question was not asked. The magistrates retired and conferred and I imagine that Mr. Medlar’s excellent reputation came up for discussion and that one of the justices who, as chairman of the school governors, had been obliged to declare an interest and retire from the bench while the case was being heard, may have put in some powerful pleading behind the scenes.”

“Yes, I suppose that can happen,” said Laura, “because, naturally, the school governors wouldn’t want their