The Ponson Case

William was alive, and it could not have been self inflicted. It would have been sufficient to kill him. The other injuries occurred after death, and it is certain he was not drowned. There is no escape from the conclusion that I have stated. On the contrary, there is every reason to believe a deliberate and carefully thought out crime has been committed. Though it is hardly our province, it seemed to us the whole episode of the boat and the river was merely an attempt to hide the true facts by providing the suggestion of an accident. And I may perhaps be permitted to say that had a less observant and conscientious man than my colleague been called in, the ruse might easily have succeeded.”

“You amaze me, sir,” exclaimed Mr. Soames. “A terrible business! I knew the poor fellow well. I met him in Gateshead before he moved to these parts, and we have been good friends ever since. A sterling, good fellow as ever breathed! I cannot imagine anyone wishing him harm. However, it shows how little we know”⁠ ⁠… He turned to Inspector Tanner. “I presume, Inspector, you came here prepared to take over the case?”

“Certainly, sir; I was sent for that purpose.”

“Well, the sooner you get to work the better. And now about the inquest. With the medical evidence there can be but one verdict.”

“I think, sir,” observed Tanner, “that with your approval it might be wiser to hold that evidence back. It might put someone on his guard, who would otherwise give himself away. I should suggest formal evidence of identification, and an adjournment.”

“Very possibly you are right, Inspector. What reason would you give for that procedure?”

“I would say, sir, that it is desirable on technical grounds that some motive for Sir William’s taking out the boat should be discovered, and that the inquest is being adjourned to enable inquiries on this point to be made.”

“Very well. I shall see the coroner and arrange it with him. It is not of course necessary for me to remind you of the importance of secrecy,” and with a bow Chief Constable Soames took his leave, and the meeting broke up.

“Come along round and have some supper at the George,” Inspector Tanner invited the sergeant. “I’ve got a private room, and I want a talk over this business.”

The sergeant, flushed with the honour, and delighting in his feeling of importance, accepted, and the two went out together.

An hour later they lit up their pipes, and Tanner listened while the sergeant told him in detail all he knew of the affair. Then the Inspector unrolled a large-scale map he had brought, and spread it on the table.

“I want,” he said, “to learn my way about. Just come and point out the places on the map. Here,” he pointed as he spoke, “is Halford, a place of, I suppose, 3,000 inhabitants.” The sergeant nodded and the other resumed. “This road running through the town from north to south is the main road from Bedford to London. Now, let’s see. Going towards London it crosses the Cranshaw River at the London side of Halford, and for about a mile both run nearly parallel. Then at the end of the mile, what’s this? A lane leading from the road to the river?”

“Yes, that’s what we call the Old Ferry. It’s a grass-grown lane through trees, and there’s a broken-down pier at the end of it.”

“H’m. Then the river bears away towards the southeast; while the road continues almost due south. Luce Manor is here in this vee between them?”

“Yes, that’s it, sir.”

“I see. Then at the end of Luce Manor, a cross road runs from the Bedford-London road eastwards, crossing the river just above the falls and leading to Hitchin?”

“Yes, sir. That’s right.”

“So that the Luce Manor grounds make a triangle bounded by the main London road, the cross road to Hitchin and the river.”

The Inspector smoked in silence for some minutes. Then, rolling up the map, he went on:

“Now I want to learn my dates, and also what weather you have been having. This is Thursday night, and it was, therefore, Wednesday night or early this morning the affair happened. Now what about the weather?”

“We’ve had a lot of rain lately. It was wet up to last Monday. In the afternoon it cleared up, and it has been fine since⁠—that is, here. But farther up the country there has been a lot of thunder and heavy rain. That has left the river full for this time of year.”

“Wet up till Monday afternoon, and fine since, I see. Well, sergeant, I think that’s about all we can do tonight. By the way, could you lend me a bicycle for the morning?”

“Certainly, I’ll leave it round now,” and with an exchange of good nights the men separated.

III

Hoaxed?

As soon as it was light next morning Inspector Tanner let himself out of the hotel, and taking the sergeant’s bicycle, rode out along the London Road. It was again a perfect morning, everything giving promise of a spell of settled weather. The dew lay thick on the ground, sparkling in the rays of the rising sun, which cast long, thin shadows across the road. Not a cloud was in the sky, and though a few traces of mist still lingered on the river, they were rapidly disappearing in the growing heat. From the trees came the ceaseless twittering of birds, while from some unseen height a lark poured down its glorious song. The roads had dried up after the recent rains, but were not yet dusty, and as the Inspector pedalled along he congratulated himself on the pleasant respite he was likely to have from London in July.

He crossed the Cranshaw River, and gradually diverging from it, rose briskly through the smiling, well-wooded country. About a mile from the town a grass-grown lane branched off to the left, leading, he presumed, back to the