From “The Man In The Corner”, New
York, Dodd, Mead & Company, 1909
“The
central figure in the coroner’s court that day was undoubtedly the Earl of
Brockelsby in deep black, which contrasted strongly with his florid complexion
and fair hair. Sir Marmaduke Ingersoll,
his solicitor, was with him, and he had already performed the painful duty of
identifying the deceased as his brother.
This had been an exceedingly painful duty owing to the terribly
mutilated state of the body and face; but the clothes and various trinkets he
wore, including a signet ring, had fortunately not tempted the brutal assassin,
and it was through them chiefly that Lord Brockelsby was able to swear to the
identity of his brother.
“The various employees at the hotel gave
evidence as to the discovery of the body, and the medical officer gave his
opinion as to the immediate cause of death.
Deceased had evidently been struck at the back of the head with a poker
or heavy stick, the murderer then venting his blind fury upon the body by
battering in the face and bruising it in a way that certainly suggested the
work of a maniac.
“Then the Earl of Brockelsby was called,
and was requested by the corner to state when he had last seen his bother
alive.
“ ‘The morning
before his death,’ replied his lordship, ‘he came up to
“ ‘And that is
the last you saw of the deceased?’
“ ‘That is the
last I saw of him,’ replied Lord Brockelsby.
“He seemed to hesitate for a moment or two
as if in thought whether he should speak or not, and then to suddenly make up
his mind to speak, for he added; ‘I stayed in town the whole of that day, and
only drove back to Brockelsby late in the evening. I had some business to transact, and put up
at the Grand, as I usually do, and dined with some friends.’
“ ‘ Would you tell
us at what time you returnee to
“ ‘I think it
must have been about
“ ‘I believe,’
said the coroner, after a slight pause, during which the attention of all the
spectators was riveted upon the handsome figure of the young man as he stood in
the witness-box, the very personification of a high-bred gentleman, ‘I believe
that I am right in stating that there was an unfortunate legal dispute between
your lordship and your brother?’
“ ‘That is so.’
“The coroner stroked his chin thoughtfully
for a moment or two, then he added:
“ ‘In the vent of the deceased’s claim to
the joint title and revenues of De Genneville being held good in the courts of
law, there would be a great importance, would there not, attached to his
marriage, which was to have taken place on the 15th?’
“ ‘In that event, there certainly would
be.’
“ ‘Is the jury to understand then, that
you and the deceased parted on amicable terms after your interview with him
this morning?’
“The Earl of Brockelsby hesitated again
for a minute or two, while the crowd and the jury hung breathlessly on his
lips.
“ ‘There was no enmity between us,’ he
replied at last.
“ ‘From which we may gather that there may
have been---shall I say---a slight disagreement at that interview?’
“ ‘My brother had unfortunately been
misled by the misrepresentations or perhaps the too optimistic views of his
lawyer. He had been dragged into
litigation on the strength of an old family document which he had never seen,
which, moreover, is antiquated and, owing to certain wording in it,
invalid. I thought that it would be
kinder and more considerate if I were to let my brother judge of the document
for himself. I knew that when he had
seen it he would be convinced of the absolutely futile basis of his claim, and
that it would be a terrible disappointment to him. That is the reason why I wished to see him
myself about it, rather than to do it through the more formal---perhaps more
correct---medium of you respective lawyers.
I placed the facts before him with, on my part, a perfectly amicable
spirit.’
“ ‘The young Earl of Brockelsby had made
this somewhat lengthy, perfectly voluntary explanation of the state of affairs
in a calm, quiet voice, with much dignity and perfect simplicity, but the
coroner did not seem impressed by it, for he asked very drily:
“ ‘Did you part good friends?’
“ ‘On my side absolutely so.’
“ ‘But not on his?’ insisted the corner.
“ ‘I think he felt naturally annoyed that
he had been so ill-advised by his solicitors.’
“ ‘And you made no attempt later on in the
day to adjust any ill-feeling that may have existed between you and him?’ asked
the corner, marking with strange, earnest emphasis every word he uttered.
“ ‘If you mean did I go and see my brother
again that day---no, I did not.’
“ ‘And your lordship can give us no
further information which might throw some light upon the mystery which
surrounds the Hon. Robert de Genneville’s death?’ still persisted the
corner.
“ ‘I am sorry to say I cannot,’ replied
the Earl of Brockelsby with firm decision.
“ The corner still looked puzzled and
thoughtful. It seemed at first he wished
to press his point further; everyone felt that some deep import had lain behind
his examination of the witness, and all were on tenterhooks as to what the next
evidence might bring forth. The earl of
Brockelsby had waited a minute or two, then, at a sign from the corner, had
left the witness-box in order to have a talk with his solicitor.
“At first he paid no attention to the
depositions of the cashier and hall porter of the castle Hotel, but gradually
it seemed to strike him that curious statements were being made by these
witnesses, and a frown of anxious wonder settled between his brows, whilst his
young face lost some of its florid hue.
“Mr. Tremlett, the cashier at the hotel,
had been holding the attention of the court.
He stated that the Hon. Robert Ingram de Genneville had arrived at the
hotel at eight o’clock on the morning of the 13th; he had the room
which he usually occupied when he came to the ‘Castle,’ namely, No. 21, and he
went up to it immediately on his arrival, ordering some breakfast to be brought
up to him.
“At eleven o’clock the Earl of Brockelsby
called to see his brother and remained with him until about twelve. In the afternoon deceased went out, and
returned for his dinner at seven o’clock in company with a gentleman whom the
cashier knew well by sight, Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, the lawyer, of Paradise
street. The gentlemen had their dinner
downstairs, and after that they went up to the Hon. Mr. De Genneville’s room
for coffee and cigars.
“ ‘I could not say at what time Mr. Beddingfield
left,” continued the cashier, ‘but I rather fancy I saw him in the hall at
about 9.15 p.m. He was wearing an
Inverness cape over his dress clothes and a Glengarry cap. It was just at the hour when the visitors who
had come down for the night from London were arriving thick and fast; the hall
was very full, and there was a large party of Americans monopolizing most of
our personnel, so I could not swear positively whether I did see Mr.
Beddingfield or not then, though I am quite sure that it was Mr. Timothy
Beddingfield who dined and spent the evening with the Hon. Mr. De Genneville,
as I know him quite well by sight. At
ten o’clock I am off duty, and the night porter remains alone in the hall.’
“Mr. Tremlett’s evidence was corroborated
in most respects by a waiter and by the hall porter. They had both seen the deceased come in at
seven o’clock in company with a gentleman, and their description of the latter
coincided with that of the appearance of Mr. Timothy Beddingfield, whom,
however, they did not actually know.
“At this point of the proceedings the
foreman of the jury wished to know why Mr. Timothy Beddingfield’s evidence had
not been obtained, and was informed by the detective-inspector in charge of the
case that that gentleman had seemingly left Birmingham, but was expected home
shortly. The corner suggested an
adjournment pending Mr. Beddingfield’s appearance, but at the earnest request
of the detective he consented to hear the evidence of Peter Tyrrrell, the night
porter at the castle Hotel, who, if you remember the case at all, succeeded in
creating the biggest sensation of any which he had been made through this
extraordinary and weirdly gruesome case.
“ ‘It was the first time I had been on
duty at “The Castle,” ’ he said, ‘for I
used to be night porter at “Bright’s,” in Wolverhampton, but just after I had
come on duty at ten o’clock a gentleman came and asked if he could see the Hon.
Robert de Genneville. I said that I
thought he was in, but would send up and see.
The gentleman said: “it doesn’t matter.
Don’t trouble; I know his room.
Twenty-one, isn’t it?” And up he
went before I could say another word.’
“ ‘Did he give you any name?’ asked the
coroner.
“ ‘No, sir.’
“ ‘What was like?’
“ ‘A young gentleman, sir, as far as I can
remember, in an Inverness cape and Glengarry cap, but I could not see his face
very well as he stood with his back to the light, and the cap shaded his eyes,
and he only spoke to me for a minute.’
“ ‘Look all around you,’ said the coroner
quietly. ‘Is there anyone in this court
at all like the gentleman you speak of?’
“An awed hush fell over the many
spectators there present as Peter Tyrrell, the night porter of the Castle
Hotel, turned his head towards the body of the court and slowly scanned the
many faces there present; for a moment he seemed to hesitate---only for a
moment though, then, as if vaguely conscious of the terrible importance his
next words might have, he shook his head gravely and said:
“ ‘I wouldn’t like to swear.”
“The corner tried to press him, but with
true British stolidity he repeated” ‘I wouldn’t like to say.’
“ ‘Well, then, what happened?” asked the
coroner, who had perforce to abandon his point.
“ ‘The gentleman went upstairs, sir, and
about a quarter of an hour later he come down again, and I let him out. He was in a great hurry then; he threw me a
half-crown and said: “Goodnight.” ’
“ ‘And, though you saw him again then, you
cannot tell us if you would know him again?’
“Once more the hall porter’s eyes wandered
as if instinctively to a certain face in the court; once more he hesitated for
many seconds which seemed like so many hours, during which a man’s honour, a
man’s life, hung perhaps in the balance.
“Then Peter Tyrrell repeated slowly: “I
wouldn’t swear.”
“But coroner and jury alike, and every
spectator in that crowded court, had seen that the man’s eyes had rested during
that one moment of hesitation upon the face of the Earl of Brockelsby.”