The Judas Window

'Now, suppose,' said H.M. argumentatively, 'a parcel is handed in, and nobody comes to claim it. What happens to the parcel?'

'It depends on how long it has been left there. If it seems to have been left there indefinitely, it is transferred to a storage-room reserved for that purpose. If it is not claimed at the end of two months, it may be sold and the proceeds devoted to railway charities; but we make every effort to find the proper owner.'

'Who is in charge of this department?'

'I am. That is to say, it is under my direction.'

'On February 3rd, last, did anybody come to your office and enquire about a suitcase which had been left there at a certain definite time on a certain definite date?'

'Yes. You did,' replied the witness with a shadow of a smile.

'Was there anyone else present?'

'Yes, two others whom I now know to be Dr Parker and Mr Shanks.'

'A week after we had been there, did another person - another person in this case - also call and enquire about it?'

'Yes; a man who gave the name of -'

'Never mind the name,' said H.M. hastily. 'That's not our business. But about the first people who asked for it. Did you open the suitcase in their presence?'

'Yes, and I was convinced that the suitcase belonged to one of them,' said Cochrane, looking hard at H.M. 'The contents of the suitcase, not usual contents, were described before the suitcase was opened.'

H.M. indicated the big black-leather suitcase inscribed with Spencer Hume's initials. 'Will you look at that and tell us whether it's the suitcase?'

'It is.'

'I'd also like you to identify some other articles that were in the suitcase at the time. Hand them up as I indicate. That?' It was the golf-suit. 'Yes. These?' An -assortment of wearing apparel, including a pair of gaudy red- leather slippers. 'This?' Up went the decanter H.M. had put in in evidence, the decanter containing drugged whisky from which two drinks were gone. 'This?'

'This was a syphon of soda-water with its contents depleted perhaps two, inches. Next came a pair of thin gloves in whose lining the name Avory Hume had been written in indelible ink. Next came a small screw-driver. Next, in order, two drinking-glasses and a small bottle of mint extract.

'Finally, was this cross-bow in the suitcase?' demanded H.M.

'It was. It just fitted in comfortably.' 'Was this piece of feather caught in the teeth of the windlass?'

'Yes, my attention was called to it. It is the same one.'

'Uh-huh. At a certain time of night on Saturday, January 4th, then, a certain person came there and left the suitcase?'

‘Yes.'

'Could that person be identified, if necessary?' 'Yes, one of my attendants thinks he remembers, because -' 'Thank you; that's all.'

For a brief space of time Sir Walter Storm hesitated, risen just half-way to his feet.

'No question,' said the Attorney-General.

The whispering of released breath was audible. Mr Justice Rankin, whose wrist seemed tireless, continued steadily to write. Then he made a careful full-stop, and looked up. H.M. was glaring round the court-room.

'My lord, I've got one last witness. That's for the purpose of demonstratin' an alternative theory as to how a murderer got in and out of a locked room.'

('Oh, Lord, here we go I' whispered Evelyn.) 'This witness,' continued H.M., rubbing his forehead reflectively, 'has been right here in court since the beginnin' of the trial. The only trouble is, it can't talk. Therefore I'm bound to do a bit of explaining. If there's any objection to this, I can always do it in my closin' speech. But since a couple o' words of explanation will' tend to produce another actual bit of evidence - another exhibit for the defence - I'd like the court's indulgence if I say that our evidence can't be completed without it.'

'We have no objection to my learned friend's proposal, my lord.'

The judge nodded. H.M. remained silent for what seemed a very long time.

'I see Inspector Mottram is at the solicitors' table,' said H.M., while Mottram's heavy face turned round abruptly. 'I'll just ask him to oblige me by pullin' out one of the Crown's own pieces of evidence. We've had shown here the steel shutters on the windows of the study, and the big oak door as well. Let's have the door out again ...

'The inspector - and all policemen here too - will have heard of a little dingus called The Judas Window. It's supposed to be confined exclusively to gaols. The 'Judas window' is in the doors of cells. It's the little square opening, with a panel over it, through which coppers in general can look in and inspect the prisoner without being seen themselves. And it has a good deal of application to the case.'

'I do not understand you, Sir Henry,' said the judge sharply. 'There is no 'Judas window', as you call it, in the door there before us.'

'Oh, yes there is,' said H.M....

'Me lord,' he went on, 'there's a Judas window in nearly every door, if you just come to think of it. I mean that every door has got a knob. This door has. And, as I've pointed out to several people, what a whackin' big knob it is’

'Suppose you took the knob off that door; what'd you find? You'd find a steel spindle, square in shape, runnin' through a square hole - like a Judas window. At each end of this, a knob is attached by means of a little screw through a hole in each end of the spindle. If you took everything out, you'd End in the door an opening - in this case, as we'll see, an opening that must be nearly half an inch square. If you don't realize just how big a space half an inch can be, or how much you can see when you look through it, we'll try to indicate it in just a minute. That's why I objected to the word 'sealed'.

'Now, suppose you're goin' to prepare this simple little mechanism in advance. From the outside of the door, you unscrew the knob from the spindle. You notice that there's a very small screw-driver contained in the suitcase that was left at Paddington Station; so I'll just ask the Inspector to do it for us now. Ah! That gives you, in the end of the spindle, a little hole where the screw had been. Through this hole you tie tightly a very heavy length of black thread, with a good length of slack. Then you take your finger and push the spindle through its hole to the other side of the door, the inner side of the door. There's now only one knob - the one inside the door - fastened to the spindle; on the other end is attached your length of thread, and you're paying out the slack. Whenever you want the spindle and knob back up again, you simply pull the thread and up it comes. The weight of the knob inside the door is sufficient to make it hang down dead straight, so you've got no difficulty in gettin' the square spindle back in the square hole; it comes up in a straight line and slides in as soon as the edge of the spindle crosses the edge of the Judas window. As soon as it's back in again, you jerk off your thread; you put the outside knob of the door back on the spindle again; you screw it up again ... It's heart-breakin'ly simple, but the door is now apparently sealed.

'Again suppose you'd prepared the mechanism in advance, with the thread already twined. Somebody is in that room with the door bolted. You start to work your mechanism. The feller inside don't notice anything until he suddenly sees the knob and spindle beginnin' to be lowered a little way into the room. You want him to see it. In fact, you begin to talk to him then through the door. He wonders what the - he wonders what is goin' on. He walks towards the door. He bends down, as anyone will when wantin' to look close at a knob. As he bends forward - a target only three feet away from your eye, where you can't miss -'

'My lord,' cried Sir Walter Storm, 'we are willing to grant all liberties, but we must protest against this argument in -'

'- with your arrow balanced in the opening,' said H.M., 'you fire through the Judas window.'

There was a sort of thunderous pause, while Inspector Mottram stood with the screw-driver in his hand.

'My lord, I've had to say it,' said H.M. apologetically, 'in order to make clear what I'm goin' to show you. Now, that door has been in the possession of the police ever since the night of the murder. Nobody could 'a' tampered with it; it's just as it was ... Inspector, have you unscrewed one knob from that spindle? So. Will you sort of tell my lord and the jury what there seems to be tied to the hole in the spindle?'

'Please speak up,' said Mr Justice Rankin. 'I cannot see from here!'

Inspector Mottram's voice rose, a ghostly kind of effect, in the silence. I am not likely to forget him standing