[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

As far as my words on oath can go, you might either of you have done it.
You hurt yourselves with that; and then Captain Cutler must have
hurt himself with the dagger."
"Hurt myself!" exclaimed the Captain, with contempt.
"A silly little scratch."
"Which drew blood," replied the priest, nodding. "We know there's
blood on the brass now. And so we shall never know whether there was
blood on it before."
There was a silence; and then Seymour said, with an emphasis
quite alien to his daily accent: "But I saw a man in the passage."
"I know you did," answered the cleric Brown with a face of wood,
"so did Captain Cutler. That's what seems so improbable."
Before either could make sufficient sense of it even to answer,
Father Brown had politely excused himself and gone stumping
up the road with his stumpy old umbrella.
As modern newspapers are conducted, the most honest
and most important news is the police news. If it be true that
in the twentieth century more space is given to murder than to politics,
it is for the excellent reason that murder is a more serious subject.
But even this would hardly explain the enormous omnipresence and
widely distributed detail of "The Bruno Case," or "The Passage Mystery,"
in the Press of London and the provinces. So vast was the excitement
that for some weeks the Press really told the truth; and the reports
of examination and cross-examination, if interminable,
even if intolerable are at least reliable. The true reason,
of course, was the coincidence of persons. The victim was
a popular actress; the accused was a popular actor; and the accused
had been caught red-handed, as it were, by the most popular soldier
of the patriotic season. In those extraordinary circumstances
the Press was paralysed into probity and accuracy; and the rest of this
somewhat singular business can practically be recorded from reports
of Bruno's trial.
The trial was presided over by Mr Justice Monkhouse,
one of those who are jeered at as humorous judges, but who are generally
much more serious than the serious judges, for their levity comes from
a living impatience of professional solemnity; while the serious judge
is really filled with frivolity, because he is filled with vanity.
All the chief actors being of a worldly importance, the barristers
were well balanced; the prosecutor for the Crown was Sir Walter Cowdray,
a heavy, but weighty advocate of the sort that knows how to seem
English and trustworthy, and how to be rhetorical with reluctance.
The prisoner was defended by Mr Patrick Butler, K.C., who was mistaken
for a mere flaneur by those who misunderstood the Irish character--
and those who had not been examined by him. The medical evidence
involved no contradictions, the doctor, whom Seymour had summoned
on the spot, agreeing with the eminent surgeon who had later
examined the body. Aurora Rome had been stabbed with some sharp instrument
such as a knife or dagger; some instrument, at least, of which
the blade was short. The wound was just over the heart, and she had
died instantly. When the doctor first saw her she could hardly
have been dead for twenty minutes. Therefore when Father Brown
found her she could hardly have been dead for three.
Some official detective evidence followed, chiefly concerned with
the presence or absence of any proof of a struggle; the only suggestion
of this was the tearing of the dress at the shoulder, and this did not seem
to fit in particularly well with the direction and finality of the blow.
When these details had been supplied, though not explained,
the first of the important witnesses was called.
Sir Wilson Seymour gave evidence as he did everything else
that he did at all--not only well, but perfectly. Though himself
much more of a public man than the judge, he conveyed exactly
the fine shade of self-effacement before the King's justice;
and though everyone looked at him as they would at the Prime Minister
or the Archbishop of Canterbury, they could have said nothing
of his part in it but that it was that of a private gentleman,
with an accent on the noun. He was also refreshingly lucid,
as he was on the committees. He had been calling on Miss Rome
at the theatre; he had met Captain Cutler there; they had been joined
for a short time by the accused, who had then returned to his
own dressing-room; they had then been joined by a Roman Catholic priest,
who asked for the deceased lady and said his name was Brown.
Miss Rome had then gone just outside the theatre to the entrance
of the passage, in order to point out to Captain Cutler a flower-shop
at which he was to buy her some more flowers; and the witness
had remained in the room, exchanging a few words with the priest.
He had then distinctly heard the deceased, having sent the Captain
on his errand, turn round laughing and run down the passage
towards its other end, where was the prisoner's dressing-room.
In idle curiosity as to the rapid movement of his friends,
he had strolled out to the head of the passage himself and looked down it
towards the prisoner's door. Did he see anything in the passage?
Yes; he saw something in the passage.
Sir Walter Cowdray allowed an impressive interval,
during which the witness looked down, and for all his usual composure [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • alwayshope.keep.pl

    •