It now became obvious that nothing on earth could keep Mrs Weldon out of the witness-box. Attired in near-widow’s weeds, she indignantly protested against the suggestion. That Alexis could possibly have made away with himself on Leila’s account, or on any account whatever. She knew better than anybody that Alexis had had no genuine attachment to anyone but herself. She admitted that she could not explain the presence of the portrait signed ‘Feodora’,’ but asserted vehemently that, up to the last day of his life, Alexis had been radiant with happiness.; She had last seen him on the Wednesday night, and had expected to see him again on the Thursday morning, at the Winter Gardens. He had not arrived’ there, and she was perfectly sure that he must have been lured away to his death by some designing person. He had often said that he was afraid of Bolshevik plots, and in her opinion, the police ought to look for Bolsheviks.
This outburst produced some effect upon the jury, one of whom rose, to inquire whether the police were taking any steps to comb out suspicious-looking foreigners residing in, or hanging about, the vicinity. He himself had observed a number of disagreeable-looking tramps on the road., He also noticed with pain that at the very hotel where Alexis had worked, a Frenchman was employed as a professional dancer, and that there were also a number of foreigners in the orchestra at the Winter Gardens. The dead man was also a foreigner. He did not see that naturalisation papers made any difference. With two million British-born workers unemployed, he thought it a scandalous thing that this foreign riff-raff was allowed to land at all. He spoke as an Empire Free-Trader and member of the Public Health Committee
Mr Pollock was then called. He admitted having been in the neighbourhood of the Grinders reef with his boat at about two o’clock on the day of the death, but insisted that he had been out in deep water and had seen nothing, previous to Harriet’s arrival on the scene. He was not looking in that direction, he had his own business to attend to. As to the nature of that business he remained evasive, but nothing could shake his obstinate assertion of complete ignorance. His grandson Jem (having now returned from Ireland) briefly confirmed this evidence, but added that he himself had surveyed the shore with a glass at, he thought, about 1.45. He had then seen someone on the Flat-Iron rock, either sitting or lying down, but whether dead or alive he could not say.
The last witness was William Bright, who told the story about the razor in almost exactly, the same terms that he had used to Wimsey and the police. The coroner, glancing at a note handed up to him — by Umpelty, allowed him to finish what he had to say, and then asked:
‘You say this happened, at midnight on Tuesday, 16 June?’
‘Just after midnight. I heard the clock strike shortly before this man came up to me.’
‘How was the tide at the time?’
For the first time, Bright faltered. He glanced about him as though he suspected a trap, licked his lips’ nervously, and replied:
‘I know nothing about tides. I don’t belong to this part of the country.’
‘But you mentioned, in your very moving account of this interview, the noise made by the sea lapping against the wall of the Esplanade. That suggests, does it not, that the tide was then full?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Would you be surprised to learn that at midnight on the 16th of this month the tide was actually at the lowest point of the ebb?’
‘I may have sat there longer than I thought! ‘Did you sit there for six hours?’
No answer.
‘Would it surprise you to know that the sea never comes up to the wall of the Esplanade except at the top of the spring tides which, on that particular date, would occur at about six o’clock in the evening?’
‘I can only say that I must have been mistaken. You must allow for the effects of a morbid imagination.’
‘You still say that the interview took place at midnight?’
‘Yes; I am confident about that.’
The coroner dismissed Mr Bright with a warning to be more careful with statements he made in court, and recalled Inspector Umpelty with an inquiry into Bright’s movements and character.
He then summed up the evidence. He did not attempt to disguise his own opinion, which was that deceased had taken his own life. (Incoherent protest from Mrs Weldon.) As to why he should have done so, it was not the jury’s business to speculate. Various motives had been suggested, and the jury must bear in mind that deceased’ was Russian by birth, and therefore excitable, and liable to be overcome by feelings; of melancholy and despair. He himself had read a great deal of Russian literature and could assure the jury that suicide was of frequent occurrence among the members of that unhappy nation. We who enjoyed the blessing of being British might find that difficult to understand, but the jury could take it from him that it was so. They had before them clear evidence of how the razor came into the hands of Alexis, and he thought they need not lay too much stress on Bright’s error about the tide. Since Alexis did not shave, what could he have needed a razor for, unless to commit suicide? He (the coroner) would, however, be perfectly fair and enumerate the one or two points which, seemed to throw doubt on the hypothesis of suicide. There was the fact that Alexis had taken a return-ticket. There was the passport. There was the belt full of gold. They might
perhaps think that deceased had contemplated fleeing the country. Even so, was it not likely that he had lost heart at the last moment and taken the shortest way out of the country and out of life itself? There was the odd circumstance that deceased had apparently committed suicide in gloves, but suicides were notoriously odd. And there was, of course, the evidence of Mrs Weldon (for whom they must all feel the deepest sympathy); as to deceased’s state of mind; but this was contradicted by the evidence of William Bright and Mrs Lefranc.
In short, here was a man of Russian birth and temperament, troubled by emotional entanglements and by the receipt of mysterious letters, and obviously in an unstable condition of, mind. He had wound up his worldly affairs and procured a razor. He had been found in a lonely spot, to which he had obviously proceeded unaccompanied, and had been found dead, with the fatal weapon lying close under his hand. There were no footprints upon the sand but his own, and the person who had discovered the body had come upon it so closely after the time of the death as to preclude the possibility of any murderer having, escaped from the scene of the crime by way of the shore. The witness Pollock had sworn that he was out in deep water at the time when the death occurred, and had seen no other boat in the neighbourhood, and his evidence was supported by that of Miss Vane. Further, there was no evidence that anybody had the slightest motive for doing away with the deceased, unless the jury chose to pay attention to the vague suggestions about blackmailers and Bolsheviks, which there was not an atom of testimony to support.
Wimsey, grinned at Umpelty over this convenient summary, with its useful suppressions and assumptions. No mention of clefts in the rock or of horseshoes or of the disposal of Mrs Weldon’s money. The jury whispered together. There was a pause. Harriet looked at Henry Weldon. He was frowning heavily and paying no attention to his mother, who was talking excitedly into his ear.
Presently the foreman rose to his feet a stout person, who looked like a farmer.