Great Porter Square: A Mystery. Volume 1

CHAPTER IV

THE EXAMINATION OF MRS. PREEDY, CONTINUED FROM THE “EVENING MOON.”

MR. WHITE LUSH: You are quite confident in your own mind that the letter is no longer in existence.

Witness: I can’t swear to that, sir.

Mr. White Lush: You swear that you know nothing of it whatever?

Witness: Yes, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Now, what were the contents of the letter?

Witness: It were to inform me that the droring-rooms had bolted —

Magistrate: Bolted?

Witness: Run away, and wasn’t coming back, and that I might ’elp myself to what was in the trunk to pay my bill.

Mr. White Lush: Did you help yourself?

Witness: The meanness! I went up to the droring-room, and opened the trunk.

Mr. White Lush: Was it locked?

Witness: It were, sir.

Mr. White Lush: How did you open it?

Witness: With a poker.

Mr. White Lush: What did you find in it?

Witness: Bricks.

Mr. White Lush: Nothing else?

Witness: Not a blessed thing.

Mr. White Lush: What occurred then?

Witness: I were overcome with a ’orrid suspicion.

Mr. White Lush: Concerning what?

Witness: My second floorer.

Magistrate: Is that a poetical image, Mr. Lush?

Mr. White Lush (smiling): I really cannot say. This is a case with very little poetry in it. (To witness): Your second floorer? Do you mean your tenant on the second floor?

Witness: That were my meaning, sir.

Mr. White Lush: And acting on your horrid suspicion, you —

Witness: Run up stairs as fast as my legs would carry me.

Mr. White Lush: What did you discover? That your second floorer had run away?

Witness (very solemnly): He ’ad, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Did you open his trunk?

Witness: I did, sir.

Magistrate: With your universal key – the poker?

Witness: Yes, sir.

Mr. White Lush: That trunk, surely, was not also full of bricks?

Witness: I am sorry to inform you, sir, it were.

Magistrate: A singular coincidence.

Mr. White Lush: The witness’s two lodgers were evidently regular bricks. (Great laughter.) Were your drawing rooms and your second floorer on terms of intimacy?

Witness: Not as I was aware on, sir.

Mr. White Lush: What did you do then?

Witness: I went out to speak to a neighbour.

Mr. White Lush: To tell her of your misfortunes?

Witness: Yes, sir.

Mr. White Lush: At what time did you return to your house?

Witness: It were eleven o’clock, sir – striking as I opened the door. I stood on the steps, and counted the strokes: One – Two – Three —

Mr. White Lush: That will do. We will imagine the clock has struck. While you were out, did you observe anything unusual in the next house, No. 119?

Witness: Nothink, sir.

Mr. White Lush: You saw no strangers prowling about?

Witness: I did not, sir. Somebody pushed agin me —

Mr. White Lush: Yes?

Witness: It were Mr. Simpson, dining room, three doors off, in his usual condition. He always comes ’ome so.

Mr. White Lush: Did he speak to you?

Witness: He growled at me.

Mr. White Lush: What did you do then?

Witness: I went down to the kitchen, and fell into a doze.

Mr. White Lush: For how long did you doze?

Witness: I can’t rightly say, sir. About arf-an-hour, perhaps.

Mr. White Lush: Was there a candle alight in the kitchen when you fell asleep?

Witness: Yes, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Was it a whole candle?

Witness: No, sir, it were arf burnt down.

Mr. White Lush: What kind of candles do you burn in your kitchen?

Witness: Taller dips, sir – twelves.

Mr. White Lush: For about how long will one of these tallow dips burn?

Witness: Three hours and more.

Mr. White Lush: Was the candle you left burning on your kitchen table when you fell into a doze alight when you awoke?

Witness: It were, sir, and it burnt blue.

Mr. White Lush: What do you mean by that?

Witness: I don’t know, sir. It burnt blue. There was something mysterious about it.

Magistrate: Perhaps the witness smelt sulphur also.

Mr. White Lush: Did you smell sulphur?

Witness: Not as I’m aware on, sir.

Mr. White Lush: When you awoke, was it a natural awaking, or were you suddenly aroused?

Witness: I were suddenly woke, and I was all of a tremble.

Mr. White Lush: You were frightened by something?

Witness: I were, sir, and I were not.

Mr. White Lush: I do not understand you. Was there anybody or anything in the room besides yourself?

Witness: I didn’t see nothink – not even a mouse.

Mr. White Lush: Then what were you frightened at?

Witness: It were a fancy, perhaps – or a dream that I couldn’t remember; and all at once I ’eerd a scream.

Mr. White Lush: From what direction?

Witness: From the next house, No. 119.

Mr. White Lush: You heard a scream proceeding from 119, the house in which the murder was committed?

Witness: As near as I can remember, sir.

Mr. White Lush: That is not what I want. You possess the usual number of senses, I suppose?

Witness: I defy anybody to say anything to the contrairy.

Mr. White Lush: You look like a sensible woman. (Here the witness made an elaborate curtsey to Mr. White Lush, which occasioned much laughter.) Your hearing is good?

Witness: It air, sir. Mrs. Beale was saying to me only yesterday morning, ‘Mrs. Preedy,’ says she —

Mr. White Lush: Never mind what Mrs. Beale was saying to you. Listen to what I am saying to you. On the occasion we are speaking of, you heard a scream?

Witness (after a long pause, during which she seemed to be mentally asking questions of herself): I think I may wenture to say, sir, I did.

Mr. White Lush: Ah, that is more satisfactory. Now, Mrs. Preedy, attend to me.

Witness: I’m a-doing of it, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Thank you. Did the scream proceed from a man or a woman?

Witness (with energy): I couldn’t tell you, sir, if you went down on your bended knees.

Mr. White Lush: Reflect a little; take time. You have heard hundreds of men’s and women’s voices —

Witness: Thousands, sir.

Mr. White Lush: And a woman of your discernment must have perceived a difference between them. Women’s tones are soft and dulcet; men’s, gruffer and more resonant. It is important we should know whether it was a man’s or a woman’s voice you heard?

Witness: It ain’t possible for me to say, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Is that really the only answer you can give?

Witness: I’d give you another if I could, sir. It’s true I’ve ’eerd thousands of men’s and women’s voices, but I’ve not been in the ’abit of ’aving thousands of men and women screaming at me.

Mr. White Lush: Was it a loud scream?

Witness: There was a brick wall between us, and it must ’ave been a loud scream, or I couldn’t have ’eerd it.

Mr. White Lush: What followed?

Witness: Music. Almost on the top of the scream, as a body might say, I ’eerd music.

Mr. White Lush: What instrument was being played upon?

Witness: The pianner, sir. I ’eerd the pianner playing.

Mr. White Lush: That is to say you heard a man or woman playing the piano?

Witness: I wouldn’t swear, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Or a child?

Witness: I wouldn’t swear, sir.

Mr. White Lush: But you have sworn. You say that you heard the sound of a piano?

Witness: I did ’ear it, sir. The pianner was playing.

Mr. White Lush: A piano can’t play of itself. You heard a man, or a woman, or a child, playing the piano?

Witness: Wild ’orses sha’n’t tear it from me, sir. It might ’ave been a spirit.

Mr. White Lush: What do you say to a cat?

Witness: No, sir, it ain’t reasonable.

Mr. White Lush: You stick to the spirit, then?

Witness: It might ’ave been.

Mr. White Lush: You believe in spirits?

Witness: I do, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Out of a bottle? (Laughter.)

Magistrate: The witness has the bottle-imp in her mind, perhaps? (Renewed laughter.)

Mr. White Lush: Very likely. (To witness): Did the spirit you heard playing come out of a bottle?

Witness (with dignity): I am not in the habit of making a beast of myself.

Mr. White Lush: But a little drop now and then, eh, Mrs. Preedy?

Witness: As a medicine, sir, only as a medicine. I suffer a martyrdom from spasms. (Laughter.)

Mr. White Lush: A common complaint, Mrs. Preedy. I suffer from them myself.

Witness: You look like it, sir. (Screams of laughter.)

Mr. White Lush: For how long a time did the music continue?

Witness: For five or six minutes, perhaps.

Mr. White Lush: Are you sure it did not last for a longer time – or a shorter?

Witness: No, sir, I am not sure. I was in that state that everythink seemed mixed up.

Mr. White Lush: The music might have lasted for half-an-hour?

Witness: It might, sir.

Mr. White Lush: Or for only a minute?

Witness: Yes, sir.

Mr. White Lush: When the music stopped, what occurred?

Witness: If you was to feed me on bread and water for the next twenty years I couldn’t tell you.

Mr. White Lush: Why couldn’t you tell me?

Witness: Because I don’t know whether I was standing on my ’ead or my ’eels. (Roars of laughter.)

Mr. White Lush: Nonsense, Mrs. Preedy, you do know.

Witness: Beggin’ your pardon, sir, I do not know. I ought to know whether I don’t know.

Mr. White Lush: Are you standing on your head or your heels at the present moment?

Witness did not reply.

Magistrate: Do you mean to tell the court seriously that you are not aware whether, at the time referred to, you were standing on your head or your heels?

Witness: I wouldn’t swear to it, my lordship, one way or another.

Mr. White Lush: What did you do when the music stopped?

Witness: I flopped.

Mr. White Lush: Did you flop on your head or your heels?

Witness: I couldn’t take it upon myself to say, sir.

Mr. White Lush: And this is all you know of the murder?

Witness: If you was to keep me ’ere for a month, sir, you couldn’t get nothink else out of me.

Mr. White Lush: I have done with you.

Mr. Goldberry: I shall not detain you long, Mrs. Preedy. Look attentively at the prisoner. Do you know him?

Witness: No, sir.

Mr. Goldberry: Have you ever seen him in Great Porter Square?

Witness: Neither there or nowheres else. This is the first time I ever set eyes on ’im.

Mr. Goldberry: You swear that, positively.

Witness: If it were the last word I ever spoke, it’s the truth.

Mr. Goldberry: That will do.

Mrs. Preedy left the witness box in a state of great agitation, amid the tittering of the spectators.

Mr. Goldberry, addressing the Bench, said that he saw in the Court three of the constables who had been instrumental in arresting the prisoner, one being the officer who had first observed the prisoner in Great Porter Square. It was well known that the prisoner had declined to put a single question to one of the witnesses called on behalf of the Treasury. He asked to be allowed to exercise the privilege of cross-examining these constables, and he promised to occupy the court but a very short time.

No objection being raised, Police-constable Richards entered the witness box.

Mr. Goldberry: Before you helped to arrest the prisoner in Great Porter Square, had you ever seen him before?

Witness: It’s hard to say.

Mr. Goldberry: It is not hard to say. You would find no difficulty in replying to such a question if it were to tell against the prisoner instead of in his favour? I must have an answer. Had you ever seen him before that night?

Witness: I can’t call to mind that I have.

Mr. Goldberry: Do you know anything of him, in his favour or against him, at this present moment?

Witness: I do not.

Mr. Goldberry: Call Constable Fleming. (Constable Fleming stepped into the box.) Before the night of the prisoner’s arrest had you ever seen him?

Witness: I can only speak to the best of my knowledge —

Mr. Goldberry: You are not expected to speak from any other knowledge. You are aware, if that man is put on his trial, that it will be for his life. I insist upon fair play for him. Had you ever seen him before that night?

Witness: Not as far as I can remember.

Mr. Goldberry: You have taken a lesson from Mrs. Preedy. Do you know anything against him now?

Witness: No.

Mr. Goldberry: Call Constable Dick. (Constable Dick stepped into the box). You have heard the questions I put to the last two witnesses. They are what I shall substantially put to you. Before the night of the prisoner’s arrest had you ever seen him?

Witness: No.

Mr. Goldberry: Do you know anything of him at the present moment?

Witness: No.

Mr. Goldberry then addressed the bench. The inquiry had already been adjourned four times, and not a tittle of evidence had been brought forward to connect the prisoner with the dreadful crime. He was utterly unknown to the police, who had instigated the charge against him, and who, being unable to identify him, were deprived the pleasure of testifying that he belonged to the dangerous classes of society. It was partly because of this singular aspect of the case that he, Mr. Goldberry, had voluntarily come forward to defend a man who, upon the face of the evidence, was innocent of the charge so wildly brought against him. It appeared to him that liberty of the person was in danger. It was monstrous that such a power should be exercised by the police. To be poor, as the accused evidently was, was no crime; to be forlorn and wretched, as the accused appeared to be, was no crime; but the police evidently regarded these misfortunes as proofs of guilt. He applied for the prisoner’s discharge.

Mr. White Lush said it was scarcely necessary to say a word in defence of the police, who, in the exercise of their arduous duties, generally acted with fair discretion. To discharge the prisoner at this stage of the proceedings would not unlikely defeat the ends of justice. He understood that the police were on the track of some important evidence regarding the prisoner in connection with the crime, and he asked for an adjournment for a week.

The prisoner, who, during the entire proceedings, had not uttered a word, was remanded, and the case was adjourned until this day week.

CHAPTER V

CONTAINS FURTHER EXTRACTS FROM THE “EVENING MOON” RELATING TO THE GREAT PORTER SQUARE MYSTERY

YESTERDAY the inquiry into the Great Porter Square mystery was resumed at the Martin Street Police Court, before Mr. Reardon. The court was again crowded, and the prisoner, Antony Cowlrick, was brought in handcuffed. His appearance was, if possible, more forlorn-looking and wretched than on the previous occasions, and his face bore the marks of a scuffle. Mr. White Lush again appeared for the Treasury, and Mr. Goldberry for the prisoner. As a proof of the public feeling respecting the conduct of the police in this case we have to record that during his progress down Martin Street towards the Magistrate’s Court, Mr. Goldberry, who has so generously come forward on behalf of the prisoner, was loudly cheered.

Mr. White Lush rose, and stated that he was not prepared to offer any further evidence, in consequence of the inquiries of the police not being concluded. He applied for another adjournment of a week.

A buzz of astonishment and indignation ran through the court, which was quickly suppressed.

Mr. Reardon: I was not prepared for this application. It is my duty to do everything in my power to assist the course of justice, but I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that the prisoner has now been brought before me six times, and that on the occasion of every adjournment the police have promised to produce evidence affecting the prisoner which up to the present moment is not forthcoming. If it is my duty to further the ends of justice, it is equally the duty of the police to see that it does not lag. A suspected person – suspected with cause and reason – should not be allowed the opportunity of escape; but some protection must be given to a man who is presumably innocent. Since last week I have carefully gone over and considered the evidence presented in this court with respect to this awful and mysterious murder; and I am hardly inclined to allow the accused to remain any longer in prison on this charge. What has Mr. Goldberry to say?

Mr. Goldberry: I am glad – as I am sure the public will be – to hear the expression of your worship’s sentiments in the matter. It is not my wish to excite false sympathy for the prisoner, but I would draw your worship’s attention, and the attention of the police, to the reasonable presumption that while they are wildly hunting for evidence against an innocent man, the criminal is being allowed every opportunity to escape the hands of justice. It would almost seem – far be it from me to assert that it is so, for I am sure it would be untrue – but it would almost seem as if they were playing into the hands of the real criminal. The only excuse that can be found for the police is, that a murder having been committed, somebody had to be arrested and charged with its committal, and, with this end in view, Cowlrick was indiscriminately taken up and so charged. Zeal is a fine quality, but, when misapplied, frequently leads to grave consequences. In my defence of the prisoner I have had great difficulties to contend with. He has not assisted me in the slightest degree. It is no breach of professional confidence to say that, in my interviews with him, he has doggedly refused to give me any information concerning himself; but as I have before asserted that poverty and wretchedness were not to be accepted as marks of guilt, so I now declare that the prisoner’s strange reticence concerning himself is also no crime. Nor is eccentricity a crime. I have had no opportunity of conversing with the prisoner this morning, or of seeing him before I entered the court a few minutes since, and I have to ask the meaning of those marks upon his face – to which I direct your worship’s attention – and of his being handcuffed.

The police explained that on his way to Martin Street police court the prisoner had attempted to escape, and that a struggle had taken place, during which a constable and the prisoner had received several blows.

Mr. Goldberry asked if the constable who had been struck was present, and the answer was given that he was not; he was on duty in another place.

Mr. Goldberry: I will not comment upon the occurrence; in the marks upon the prisoner’s face, and in the absence of the constable who is said to have been struck, it speaks for itself. I strenuously oppose the application for a remand, and I demand the prisoner’s discharge on the plain grounds that there is no evidence against him.

Mr. White Lush: In the interests of justice, I ask for a further remand.

Mr. Reardon: Am I to understand that if I remand the prisoner until this day week, you will be prepared to bring forward evidence which will justify not only his present but his past detention?

Mr. White Lush: I am informed that such evidence will be forthcoming.

Mr. Reardon: Upon that understanding the prisoner is remanded until this day week.

CHAPTER VI

THE “EVENING MOON” SPEAKS ITS MIND

YESTERDAY, at the Martin Street Police Court, Antony Cowlrick was brought up for the seventh time, on the charge of being concerned in the mysterious murder which took place at No. 119, Great Porter Square. The remarks we have from time to time made upon this case and upon the arrest of Antony Cowlrick have been justified by the result. The prisoner was finally discharged. All that was wanted to complete the tragical farce was a caution from the magistrate to the prisoner not to do it again.

We now intend to speak plainly; and the strong interest the case has excited will be our excuse if our comments are more lengthy than those in which we generally indulge in our editorial columns. The elements of mystery surrounding the awful murder were sufficiently complicated without the assistance of the police. Their proceedings with respect to the man calling himself Antony Cowlrick have rendered the task of bringing the murderer to justice one of enormous difficulty.

Our business at present is not so much with the murder itself as it is with Antony Cowlrick and the police; but a brief recapitulation of the circumstances of the murder is necessary for the proper understanding of what is to follow.