“I am not criticizing your conduct, sergeant, nor do I wish to embarrass your handling of the case, but if there is further information as to how your suspicions became aroused which you can properly give us, we should be glad to hear it.”
The sergeant glanced at French. To the latter it seemed that less harm would now be done if he himself gave evidence than if a mystery were made of the affair. He therefore nodded and the sergeant replied:
“There is no mystery in the matter, sir. I can tell you everything that occurred. I admit that no suspicion of foul play was aroused by the finding of the body. It seemed to me a case of either accident or suicide. But that afternoon a call was received from Scotland Yard, a general call, sent, I understand, to all stations. This said that a young lady was missing, giving her description and asking for a lookout to be kept for her. When I read it I thought it probably referred to the deceased. I telephoned so to the Yard and there was a reply that an inspector would come down by the evening train to see if he could identify the remains. Inspector French arrived and did so. He said that the possibility of foul play must not be overlooked and suggested that a postmortem should be made. With the consent of my superiors the matter was arranged. Inspector French then told me who the deceased was and where I should go to get a witness of identity.”
“Has Inspector French returned to London?”
“No, sir. He’s here.”
“Here now? Then call him.”
As French entered the box the little ripple of excitement was repeated. A full-fledged inspector of the famous C.I.D. was an unwonted sight in the local courts and people craned forward to see what manner of man he might be.
In the meantime French had made up his mind as to what he would say. He would of course tell the truth, but perhaps not the whole truth. In such matters his conscience was a trifle elastic. He justified his conduct by considering the admirable end for which his evasions were invariably made.
“Now, Mr. French,” the coroner went on when he had noted the witness’s name and occupation. “Will you please tell us all you properly can of this matter.”
“There is not much to tell, sir,” French replied in his pleasant but respectful manner. “Some time ago I had occasion to visit the Milan Cinema in Oxford Street, and I became acquainted with one of the young ladies in the box office, a Miss Thurza Darke.”
French, with an admirable air of candour, made a slight pause as if he had reached the end of a paragraph. Immediately he went on:
“Yesterday I was again at the Milan, and I noticed that Miss Darke’s place was empty. I asked about her and what I was told did not seem quite satisfactory. As a result I made some inquiries and learned that Miss Darke had left the Milan at her usual time on the previous evening, quite in her ordinary frame of mind and without making any special remark to anyone there. From Mrs. Peters, her landlady, who gave evidence here today, I learnt about the telephone message. The fact that this message was a false one confirmed my suspicion that all might not be well, particularly as no reason could be suggested for the girl’s disappearance. Considering all the circumstances it was judged wise to issue a circular that she was missing. This was done and there was a reply from here, as you have heard. I came down and saw that the deceased was Miss Darke.”
“And have you any idea as to how her body got into the sea?”
“None, sir.”
“What does the fact that fresh water was found in the deceased’s lungs convey to you, Inspector?”
“Just what the doctor has said, sir; that she was drowned in fresh water and that her body was afterwards put into the sea.”
“Can you account for that in any way other than that the girl was murdered?”
“That is certainly the most probable explanation, though I think there are others. For instance, the girl might have been drowned accidentally or committed suicide and her body might have been found by someone who feared that he might be accused of murder and therefore in a moment of panic tried to get rid of it in a way that he hoped would keep him from suspicion.”
“That doesn’t seem very probable.”
“It does not, sir, but one has to consider all possibilities.”
The coroner continued asking questions, but without learning anything further of interest. Then he turned to the jury and made a short speech. Having surveyed the evidence he continued:
“The questions which you have now to consider, gentlemen, are three in number. First, you have to find the cause of death, if in your opinion the evidence justifies you in doing so. Now to my mind there can be no doubt of this. Dr. Hills has told us definitely that it was drowning. Secondly, you have to decide whether this drowning was caused accidentally or whether it was suicide or whether it was murder. Here the evidence is not so direct. It has been established, however, that the girl was drowned in fresh water and the body afterwards placed in the sea, because apart from Dr. Hills’ testimony, we all know that there is no river hereabouts into which the deceased could fall and in that space of time be carried by the current to where she was found. It is difficult to see with what object this could have been done save that of hiding a crime. If you think that these views are borne out by the evidence you will return a verdict of wilful murder. If, on the other hand, you consider some other explanation tenable, such as
