“What the neighbourhood says is not evidence.”
“No, my lord, but what my eyes have seen is evidence.”
Sir Henry Merriman’s voice stabbed itself into the corridor, sharp and clear as an icicle. “Did you hear this woman call the man Andrews her brother?”
“Yes.”
“Was that true?”
“No, of course it weren’t true. They didn’t take me in, I can tell you.” Her hand unerringly sought the thin strands of gold in her hair and she stroked them lovingly. “I know what it is to love,” she said in her sweet, damp voice. “I could tell the love light in ’is eyes.”
“What does the woman mean?”
“She means, my lord,” Mr. Braddock explained with unction, “that the man Andrews appeared to be in love with the woman.”
“How on earth could she tell that?”
“A woman’s intuition, m’ lord.” Mrs. Butler’s hand stroked one capacious breast. “And I can tell you something else, m’ lord. Only one bed had been slept in.”
“If the woman lied with regard to her relationship with Andrews, have you any reason for believing her other statement that he had been with her for a week? I suggest that he had arrived only the night before.”
“Well, I don’t know anything, sir. But ’e must ’ave made quick time with ’er, mustn’t ’e?” Mrs. Butler leered ingratiatingly at Sir Edward Parkin. “Men are very shy, my lord. I’ve known many in my time, my lord, and I speak with conviction.”
Sir Edward Parkin turned away his face, screwed up a little as though he suffered from nausea. “Have you finished with this good woman, Sir Henry?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Mr. Braddock rose. “That, my lord, is the case for the defence.”
“Have you any witnesses to call, Mr. Petty?”
“No, my lord.”
“Gentlemen of the jury, it is growing late, but by the law of England I am not allowed to discharge you until the case is finished. I am obliged to keep you together, though, no doubt, proper accommodation will be afforded you. But I am for myself perfectly willing to go on to finish the case before we separate. I have been accustomed to bear fatigue of this kind and am willing to bear it. The foreman will consult with his brethren and collect their wishes.”
There was a brief nodding of heads and the foreman intimated that they wished to finish the case. Sir Edward Parkin leant back in his seat, took a liberal helping of snuff, smoothed his white hands with some complacency and began his summing up. The officer with an impatient sigh removed his ear from the door. He had in past assizes experienced the bitter boredom of Mr. Justice Parkin’s meticulous care and accuracy. Only occasionally did he put his ear to the door to gain some indication of the progress of the judge’s charge.
“If you accept the evidence of the revenue officers that these men landed with a cargo on the night of February 10, and that in a fight which ensued Rexall was killed, it is unnecessary to fix the guilt of firing the shot on any one man. By the law of England they are all equally guilty of murder. The prisoners, in answer to the charge, have returned a complete denial and five of the prisoners have brought evidence to show that they were in a different place when the fight, described by the officers of the Crown, took place. Gentlemen, with regard to the credibility of the prisoners’ witnesses I would have you bear in mind …
“The evidence for the prosecution rests not on the bare word of the officers alone. One of the prisoners’ companions, on whose information the officers are said to have acted, appeared in the witness box. You must decide for yourselves upon his credibility, but I would point out that his story is similar in every point to that given by the officers …
“There remains, gentlemen, the body, and here an unexpected line has been taken by five of the prisoners. They have accused one of their number of having committed the murder as a climax to a series of quarrels with the officer Rexall. They have adopted part of the evidence of the prosecution in their own defence. Medical evidence leaves no doubt of the cause of Rexall’s death, and the bullet found in his body is similar to those in the possession of these men. No evidence has been brought by this prisoner in his defence, but until a late stage of the trial he was unrepresented by counsel, and you can judge for yourself of his mental state. I would point out to you that it is for the prosecution to prove a case of guilt. The prisoners’ statements are not evidence, and the prosecution have not attempted to prove the man Tims guilty alone. He and his companions in this respect must be judged together …
“You are not concerned with the past, and the evidence of the witness Andrews dealing with the life of crime lived on the ship Good Chance must not be taken into consideration. You are not to try the prisoners on their bad characters, nor are you to try them on the good characters which have been given to them by certain witnesses for the defence—you are to try whether they be guilty of the crime with which they are charged. It has been stated that they are good fathers, good husbands, good sons, but if they were angels and if the evidence as to the crime were clear and satisfactory, it would be your duty to return a verdict accordingly …
“An ill-advised attempt has been made by one of the prisoners to influence your verdict by threats. I can promise you, gentlemen, that whatever your verdict you will have the full protection of the law …”
The officer
