The Judas Window

'So that they could continue their fight in peace and comfort, you mean?'

'I cannot say as to that,' returned the witness, completely unruffled. 'So that no one could go in.'

'And they then went on fightin' for fifteen minutes?'

'No, the quarrel may have broken out again fifteen minutes later.'

'I see. But if the prisoner bolted the door at six-fifteen, it must have meant that he was ready for business, mustn't it? Would he have bolted the door and then sat down to talk peacefully afterwards?'

'He might.'

'You expect the jury to believe that?'

'I expect the jury to believe what my lord tells them is evidence, sir. You are only asking for my opinion. Besides, I have said that the deceased himself might have bolted the door -'

'Oh?' roared H.M. 'In fact, you think it likely that he did?'

'Well, yes,' admitted the inspector, and squared himself.

'Good. Now, we're asked to believe that the accused went to that house with a loaded gun in his pocket. That'd show premeditation, wouldn't it?'

'People do not usually carry weapons unless they think they may have a use for them.'

'But he didn't use that gun?'

'No.'

'Whoever killed the victim ran across the room, yanked down an arrow off the wall, and attacked the deceased with it?'

'That is our belief, yes.'

'In fact, it's your whole case, ain't it?' demanded H.M., leaning across the desk. 'It is a part of the case; not the whole of it.' 'But a vital part?' 'I leave that up to my lord.'

H.M. put his hands up to his wig; and lifted one hand and patted the top of his wig with it, as though to cork himself before exploding to the ceiling. The witness's dry, precise voice was never hurried: Inspector Mottram would not say more or less than what he meant.

'Let's take the missin' piece of feather,' pursued H.M. in a gentle growl. 'You didn't find it anywhere, did you?'

'No.'

'Did you search the room thoroughly?' 'Very thoroughly.'

'So it couldn't 'a' got away from you if it had been there, eh? No? You agree to that? Where was it, then?’

Inspector Mottram came as near to a smile as the nature of the place would permit. He was watching H.M. warily out of those near-sighted eyes, for foolish testimony in the witness-box will break a police officer; but he seemed to have been prepared for this.

'That had occurred to us, sir,' he replied dryly. 'Unless, of course, it was removed from the room by someone else -'

'Stop a bit,' said H.M. instantly. 'Someone else? But in that case it'd have to be by one of the people who have already testified here?'

'Yes, I suppose it would.'

'In which case, one of them witnesses was lying, wasn't he? And the case against the accused is partly built on lies?'

The inspector had begun to hit back. 'You did not let me finish my answer. I said it only to exclude everything, sir - as we have to do.'

'Well, what were you goin' to say?'

'I was going to say that it must have been carried out of the room in the prisoner's clothes. He was wearing his overcoat, a heavy overcoat. The pieces of feather could have been entangled in his clothes, unknown to himself.'

'Which,' said H.M., pointing, 'makes it pretty certain it was torn off in a struggle?'

'Yes.'

H.M. made a sign towards the solicitors' table. He now seemed to radiate a sort of evil glee. 'Inspector, you're a pretty strong man, aren't you? Powerful?'

'As strong as most, I suppose.'

'Right. Now, look at what they're holdin' up to you. Do you know what it is? It's a feather - a goose-feather. We got other kinds here; too, if you want 'em. I'd like you to take that feather in your hands and tear it in half. Try to break it, twist it, pull it, rip it: do anything you like: but break it in half for us.'

Inspector Mottram's knuckly hands closed round the feather, and his shoulders opened. He swung from one side to the other, in the midst of a vast silence, and nothing happened.

'Havin' trouble, son?' said H.M. meekly.

The other gave him a look from under jutting brows.

'Lean across to the foreman of the jury,' pursued H.M., raising his voice, 'and have a try at it as though you were strugglin'. Be careful; don't pull each other over the rail ... Ah, that's got it!'

The foreman of the jury was a striking-looking man with a grey moustache, but suspiciously vivid brown hair which was parted in the middle. The tug-of-war almost sent him out of the box like a fish on a line. But when the feather eventually began to part it shredded in long wisps and bits which not so much broke the feather as made it resemble a squashed spider.

'In fact,' said H.M., in the midst of a startled pause,

'it can't be done like that, can it? I use 'em for cleaning pipes, and I know. Now take a look at the broken feather on the arrow that was used for the murder. See it? The break is uneven, but it's absolutely clean and there's not a strand of the feather out of line. You see that?'

'I see it,' replied Mottram evenly.

'Will you acknowledge now that the piece of feather couldn't have been broken off like that in a struggle?'

('My God,' whispered Evelyn, 'he's done it I')

Mottram did not say anything; he was too honest to comment. He stood looking from the shredded pieces of the feather to H.M., and shifted his feet. For the first time the prosecution had received a check. Whatever excitement might have been felt was doused by the cold sanity of Sir Walter Storm.

'My lord, I suggest that my learned friend's test is more spectacular than conclusive. May I see that feather which was used for the test?'

It was passed over to him, while he and H.M. nodded to each other. And now the prosecution was going to fight. So far they had experienced such a complete walkover that the business looked perfunctory.

H.M. made a rumbling noise in his throat.

'If you got any doubts of it, Inspector, just try the same game on one of the other feathers in the arrow ... I repeat: will you acknowledge it could not have been broken off as you said it was?'

'I don't know; I can't say,' retorted Mottram honestly.

'But you're a strong man, and you couldn't?'

'All the same -'

'Just keep to my questions. The feather WAS broken off: how was it broken off?'

'The guide-feather in that arrow was old and - brittle, like. Dried up. So if -'

'How was it broken off?'

'I can't answer you; sir, if you don't give me a chance to. I don't suppose a feather is any irresistible force that can't be broken in two.'

'Could you do it?'

'No, not with the feather you gave me.'

'Try it with one of those two remainin' old and brittle feathers. Can you manage it? No. All right. Now look at this.' He held up the cross-bow. 'Suppose you were fittin' an arrow into this bow. You'd put the guide-feather in the middle when you put the arrow into this groove. Wouldn't you?'

Mottram was a trifle rattled. 'You might; I can't say.'

'I put it to you: you'd shove this arrow back in the groove until it fitted against the projectin' mechanism?'