The Judas Window

without getting an answer?'

'Yes.’

'In fact, he was ringin' up that flat as early as nine o'clock in the morning?' 'Yes.'

'You heard Dyer say that?' 'Yes.'

'Uh-huh. But he must have known perfectly well he couldn't get you, mustn't he? At nine o'clock you were just leavin' Frawnend, on an hour and three-quarters' journey. There were the times of arrival and departure smack in front of him, on a train his daughter frequently took. He must have known - mustn't he? - that it'd be two hours before he could hope to get you?'

'I should have thought so.'

('What on earth is the man doing?' demanded Evelyn in my ear. 'Pulling his own witness to pieces?)

'Now let's take this phone conversation. What did the deceased say?'

Answell's account was the same as the others'. He had begun to speak with a terrible earnestness.

'Was there anything in what the deceased said that you could take offence at?'

'No, no, nothing at all.'

'What'd you think of it, in general?'

'Well, he did not sound exactly friendly, but then some people are like that. I thought he was just being reserved.'

'Was there any dark secret in your life that you thought he'd discovered?'

'Not that I know of. I never thought of it.'

'When you went along to see him that evenin', did you take your cousin's gun with you?'

'I - did - not. Why should I?'

'You got to the deceased's house at ten minutes past six? Yes. Now, we've heard how you dropped your hat, and seemed in a temper, and refused to take your overcoat off. Son, what was the real reason for all that conduct?'

Mr Justice Rankin interposed during the prisoner's quick mutter. 'If you are to do yourself any good, you must speak up. What did you say? I cannot hear.'

The prisoner turned towards him and made a baffled kind of gesture with his hands.

'My lord, I wanted to make as good an impression as I could.' Pause. 'Especially as he had not sounded - you know, cordial, over the phone.' Pause. 'Then, when I went in, my hat slipped out of my hands. It made me mad. I did not want to look like -'

'Like a what? What did you say?'

'Like a damned fool.'

''Like a damned fool,'' repeated the judge without inflection. 'Go on.'

H.M. extended a hand. 'I suppose young fellers calling on their in-laws for the first time often do feel just as you did. What about the overcoat?'

'I didn't mean it. I didn't want to say it. But after I had said it I could not take it back, or it would have seemed worse.'

'Worse?'

'More like an ass,' blurted the witness. 'Very well. You were taken back to the deceased? Yes. What was his manner towards you?' 'Reserved and - queer.'

'Let's make that clearer, son. Just what d'you mean, 'queer'?'

'I do not know.' Pause. 'Queer.'

'Well, tell the jury what you said to each other.'

'He noticed me looking at those arrows on the wall. I asked him if he was interested in archery. He began talking about playing bows and arrows in the north when he was a boy, and how it was fashionable here in London. He said the arrows were trophies of what he called the 'annual wardmote' of the Woodmen of Kent. He said: 'At those meets, whoever first hits the gold becomes Master Forester for the next year.''

''The gold?'' repeated H.M. in a rumbling voice. ‘ 'The gold?' What did he mean by that?'

'I asked him that, and he said he meant the centre of the target. When he said this, he looked straight at me in an odd kind of way -'

'Explain that. Just take it easy, now

Again Answell gestured. 'Well, as though he thought that I had come fortune-hunting. That is the impression I got.'

'As though you'd come fortune-huntin’. But I s'pose, whatever else you could be called, you couldn't be called a fortune-hunter?'

'I hope not.'

'What did he say then?'

'He looked at his fingers, and looked hard at me, and said: 'You could kill a man with one of those arrows.''

'Yes; after that?' prodded H.M. gently.

'I thought I had better change the subject. So I tried to be light about it, and I said: 'Well, sir, I didn't come here to steal the spoons, or to murder anyone unless it becomes absolutely necessary.''

'Oh?' roared H.M. 'You used the expression, 'I didn't come here to steal the spoons,' before you said the rest of it. We haven't heard that, y'know. You said that?'

'Yes. I know I said that first, because I was still thinking about 'the gold' and wondering what he had in mind. It was only natural.'

'I agree with you. And then?'

'I thought it was no good beating about the bush any longer, so I just said: 'I want to marry Miss Hume, and what about it?''

H.M. took him slowly through the statement about pouring out the whisky.

'I'm goin’ to ask you to be very careful now. I want you to tell us just exactly what he said after he poured out that whisky: every look and gesture, mind, as far as you remember it.'

'He said: 'May I wish you prosperity?' and his expression seemed to change, and become - I did not like it. He said: 'Mr James Caplon Answell', to the air, as though he were repeating it. Then he looked at me and said: 'That marriage would be advantageous - to both sides, I might say.''

H.M.'s lifted hand stopped him.

'Just a minute. Be careful. He said: 'That marriage', did he? He didn't say: 'This marriage'?'

'No, he did not.'

'Go on.'

'Then he said: 'As you know, I have already given my consent to it.''

'Let me repeat that,' interposed H.M. quickly. He lifted his blunt fingers and checked off the words. 'What he actually said was: 'That marriage would be advantageous; I have already given my consent to it'?' 'Yes.'

‘I see. And then, son?'

'He said: 'I can find absolutely nothing against it. I had the honour to be acquainted with the late Lady Answell, and I know that your family financial position is sound.''

'Wait again! Did he say: 'Your financial position' or 'Your family financial position'?'

'It was 'Your family financial position.' Then he said: 'Therefore I propose to tell you -' That was all I heard, distinctly. There was a drug in that whisky, and it got me.'

H.M. exhaled a deep breath, and shook his gown; but he kept on steadily in that rumbling monotone.

'Right here let's cut back to the telephone conversation by which you got summoned to Grosvenor Street. The deceased knew you were comin' to London by a train that left Frawnend at nine o'clock?'

'He must have.'

'He also knew - didn't he? - that the train wouldn't arrive until ten-forty-five; and that he couldn't possibly get in touch with you before eleven?'

'Mary told him so.'