The Judas Window

‘I examined the cross-bow there, which I was told belonged to Avory Hume. In the groove down the centre of the cross-bow, evidently used for the reception of a missile - here,' said Dr Parker, indicating, 'the microscope showed flakes of what I believed to be dry paint. I judged that these flakes had been rubbed off owing to the sudden friction when some wooden missile was fired from the bow. Under analysis, the paint was ascertained to be a substance known as "X-varnish", used exclusively by Messrs Hardigan, who sold to the deceased the arrow in question. I present an affidavit to that effect.

'The arrow here was - ah - kindly lent to me by Detective-Inspector Mottram. Here the microscope showed along the shaft of the arrow signs that flakes of paint had been chipped in an irregular line from it.

'In the teeth of the windlass on the cross-bow I found the piece of blue feather which you see there now. This I compared to the broken feather on the end of the arrow. The two pieces made up a complete feather, except for an irregular bit which was missing. I have here photomicrographs of the two pieces, enlarged ten times. The joinings in the fibre of the feather can be seen clearly, and leave no doubt in my own mind that they came from the same feather.'

'In your opinion, had the arrow been fired from this cross-bow?'

'In my opinion, it unquestionably had.'

This was hard hitting. Under cross-examination, Dr Parker acknowledged the scientific possibility of an error; it was as far as he would go.

'And I acknowledge, my lord,' said H.M. in reply to a question from the bench, 'that so far we've not shown where this cross-bow or the other articles came from, or what happened to the missin' piece of feather. We'll remedy that now. Call William Cochrane.'

('Who on earth is that?' whispered Evelyn. H.M. had said once before that you would no more cause a commotion in Balmy Rankin's court than you would cause one on a chess-board; but the curiosity of the court had now reached to as flaming a pitch as it could go. It was stimulated still more by the quietly dressed elderly man who took the oath.)

'Your full name?'

'William Rath Cochrane.'

'What's your profession, Mr Cochrane?'

'I am the manager of the Left-Luggage Department at Paddington Station - the Paddington terminus of the Great Western Railway.'

'I think we all know the process,' rumbled H.M., 'but I'll just go over it here. If you want to leave a bag or a parcel or the like for a few hours, you hand it across a counter, and you get back a written slip that allows you to claim the parcel again?'

'That is right.'

'Can you tell the date and the time of day when the parcel was handed in?'

'Oh, yes. It is on the ticket.'

'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....