The Coroner: ‘Did you hear the shot?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘No sir – I’m very deaf, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘Did you hear Mrs. Mercer scream?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘No, sir, I wouldn’t hear anything like that, not with two doors shut between.’
The Coroner: ‘There were two doors between the kitchen and the hall?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘Yes, sir – the kitchen door and the baize door.’
The Coroner: ‘Mrs. Mercer had been with you in the kitchen?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘Yes, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘She says she went upstairs to turn down Mr. Everton’s bed. How long had she been gone when the alarm was given?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘I should say it was the best part of five minutes, sir – not any longer.’
The Coroner: ‘There is a point which I would like to have cleared up. Is Alfred Mercer in the court? I would like to recall him for a moment.’
Alfred Mercer recalled.
The Coroner: ‘In all this evidence there has been no mention of Mr. Everton’s dinner hour. What was his dinner hour?’
Mercer: ‘Eight to half past, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘You mean that the hour varied from day to day?’
Mercer: ‘Yes, sir. If it was a fine evening he didn’t like to come in from the garden.’
The Coroner: ‘On this particular evening had he dined?’
Mercer: ‘No, sir. It was ordered for half past eight.’
The Coroner: ‘I would like to recall Mrs. Mercer.’
Mrs. Mercer recalled.
The Coroner: ‘On July 16th Mr. Everton had ordered his dinner for half past eight?’
Mrs. Mercer: ‘Yes, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘You are the cook?’
Mrs. Mercer: ‘Yes, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘Dinner was ordered for half past eight, yet at a quarter-past eight you went upstairs to turn down his bed. Isn’t that a little unusual?’
Mrs. Mercer: ‘Yes, sir. Everything was cold, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘You mean you had no cooking to do?’
Mrs. Mercer: ‘No, sir. Everything was ready in the dining-room except for my pudding, which I was keeping on the ice.’
The Coroner: ‘I see. Thank you, Mrs. Mercer, that will do. Now, Mrs. Thompson, let us get this quite clear. You have sworn that Alfred Mercer was in the kitchen or in the pantry between half past seven and twenty minutes past eight, which was the time that the alarm was given as near as we can fix it?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘Yes, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘I have here a plan of the house. It bears out your statement that there is no way out of the pantry except through the kitchen. The pantry window, I am told, is barred, so that there would be no egress that way. You swear that you did not leave the kitchen yourself between seven-thirty and eight-twenty?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘Yes, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘You swear that Alfred Mercer did not pass through the kitchen during that time?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘He come into the kitchen, sir. Me being so deaf, he had to come right up to me before I could hear what he said, but he never went through anywhere except back to his pantry.’
The Coroner: ‘I see – you were talking?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘Yes, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘And Mrs. Mercer was there all the time until she went to turn down the bed?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘I think she went through to the dining-room once, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘What time was that?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘Somewhere about eight o’clock, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘How long was she away?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘Not above a few minutes, sir.’
The Coroner: ‘Did she seem as usual?’
Mrs Thompson: ‘Well, no sir, I can’t say she did. Shocking bad she was with toothache, poor thing. That’s what Mercer come in to talk to me about – said he couldn’t get her to go to the dentist. “And what’s the sense,” he said, “crying your eyes out with pain instead of taking and having it out?” ’
The Coroner: ‘I see. And Mrs. Mercer was crying with her toothache?’
Mrs. Thompson: ‘All the time, poor thing.’
That finished with Mrs. Thompson.
CHAPTER SIX
There was medical evidence, there was police evidence, there was evidence about the will. The medical evidence said that James Everton had died at once. He had been shot through the left temple. The police surgeon had arrived at a quarter to nine. He said that in his opinion Mr. Everton could not have moved after he was shot. He certainly could not have dropped the pistol where Mr. Grey said he had found it, neither could he have thrown it there. He must have fallen forward and died at once. The shot had been fired from a distance of at least a yard, probably more. This, together with the absence of his finger-marks on the pistol, made suicide out of the question. The exact time of death was always difficult to determine, but there was nothing to contradict the evidence of his having been alive at eight o’clock.
The Coroner: ‘He might have been dead as long as three-quarters of an hour when you first saw him?’
‘It is possible.’
The Coroner: ‘Not longer?’
‘I should say not longer, but it is difficult to place these things exactly.’
The Coroner: ‘He might have been alive as late as twenty past eight?’
‘Oh, yes.’
There was more of this sort of thing. In the upshot it seemed to Hilary that the medical evidence left them just where they were as far as the time question went. Medically speaking, James Everton might have been shot at twenty past eight, when the Mercers said they heard the shot, or at any time between then and eight o’clock when he had talked to Geoffrey on the telephone. The police said that the front door was locked and bolted when they arrived, and that all the windows on the ground floor were fastened with the exception of the dining-room windows, which were open at the top. They were very heavy sash windows not at all easy to move.
Mrs. Thompson, recalled, said that neither Mercer nor Mrs. Mercer went near any of the doors or windows afrer the alarm was given. Mercer went into the study, and when he had made sure that Mr. Everton was dead he went to the telephone, but Mr. Grey took the receiver from him and called up the police himself. Mrs. Mercer sat down on the bottom step of the stairs and cried ‘something dreadful’. She was quite sure that nobody interfered with any doors or windows.
The Coroner addressed the jury, and from beginning to end it was perfectly clear that he believed that Geoffrey had shot his uncle.
‘We have here a household like hundreds of other well-to-do households. Mr. James Everton was a chartered accountant, the sole partner in an old-established firm. His nephew, Mr. Geoffrey Grey, was associated with the business, and he has told us that he expected to be made a partner. Until his marriage a year ago he lived with his uncle at Solway Lodge, Putney. The domestic staff consisted of Alfred Mercer, and his wife and a daily help of the name of Ashley, who has not been called as it was her habit to leave at six o’clock. The Mercers agree that she left at this hour on the day in question. Mrs. Thompson, however, was in the house, having been invited to supper by the Mercers. Mrs. Thompson is Sir John Blakeney’s housekeeper and lives at Sudbury House, which is the next house to Solway Lodge. She has lived there for twenty-five years. You have heard her evidence. I need not labour its importance. If you believe Mrs. Thompson- and there is no reason to disbelieve her -it is quite impossible for Alfred Mercer to have left the kitchen during the time under review. She says he came and went between the kitchen and the pantry, where he was cleaning silver, but that he never at any time left the kitchen premises. It is quite impossible that he should have done so without her seeing him. If, therefore, you believe Mrs. Thompson’s evidence, no suspicion rests on Alfred Mercer. At twenty past eight, as he has told you, he heard the sound of a shot and his wife’s scream. He then ran out into the hall, where he found Mrs. Mercer in a terrible state. He tried the study door and found it locked. Mr. Grey then opened it from the inside. He had a pistol in his hand, and Mr. Everton was lying dead across his desk. Mrs. Thompson, who followed Alfred Mercer, corroborates this, but as she is very deaf she did not hear either the shot or the scream. I think you may take it that no suspicion rests upon Alfred Mercer.