The Bachelors (30 page)

‘Yes, I’m quite sure it
was the twelfth of August because it was my birthday, and that’s why I took the
day
off,’
Elsie said.

‘What
time did you arrive at Mr. Socket’s flat?’ Martin said.

‘Ten o’clock
in the morning.’

‘What
time did you leave?’

‘One o’clock.’

‘Mr.
Socket was present all morning?’

‘Yes,
he gave me dictation, and he read some poetry.’

She
started to leave the witness box immediately she had answered all Martin’s
questions. It was indicated to her that she had to remain for
cross-examination. Patrick’s counsel was conferring with Socket in whispers.
Presently he straightened up.

‘You
say you took the day off from your work because it was your birthday?’ Patrick’s
counsel hammered out.

‘Yes.’

‘Was it
not an odd way in which to spend your day off — going to work as a typist in a
voluntary capacity?’

‘Well,
I was taken in by Father Socket. I thought he was doing good work and I thought
he was a fine person.’

‘On
what date did Mr. Socket dismiss you from his service?’

He didn’t
dismiss me. I never went back after I sensed something wrong.’

‘I
suggest that Mr. Socket dismissed you on or about the 20th of July, and asked
you not to come again.’

‘No, I
left two weeks ago because I sensed something wrong.’

‘I
suggest he dismissed you, and that you are embittered.’

‘Yes, I
was embittered all right after I sensed something wrong,’ said Elsie like a needle.

The
barrister became irritated. ‘You keep saying you sensed something wrong. What
do you mean? —Let’s have it. Did you sense something wrong with your sight,
hearing, smell, touch, taste — which sense did you sense something wrong with?’

‘I
sensed it with my common sense,’ said Elsie, ‘when I went there and found a man
with lipstick and a dressing-gown that looked like—’

‘Miss
Forrest, you are an impulsive girl, aren’t you? ‘said this counsel of Patrick’s
who now roused himself for work.

‘Yes,
fairly,’ she said, rather put out by his new intimacy of tone.

‘You
did not come forward with this evidence at the proper time. And yet you have
seen fit to dash in at the last minute with accusations against a man whom up
to two weeks ago, according to your own evidence, you thought to be a fine
person. Why is that?’

‘Well,
I thought about it, and I decided it wasn’t my business. Then this afternoon I
decided to come along.’

‘On an
impulse of malice?’

‘Yes,
if you want to put it like that,’ said Elsie.

‘You
admit to malice against Father Socket.’

‘I don’t
see why he should get away with his sin.’

‘You
realise, Miss Forrest, that you have not brought a scrap of evidence to this
court to support your story —apart from malice?’

‘Well,
you can take it or leave it,’ Elsie said. ‘I was with him all morning on August
the 12th.’

‘And
you have no evidence to support your statement?’

‘No,’
said Elsie, ‘there’s only my word.’

Alice
said, ‘That girl’s treacherous. Why did she have to mention the man with
lipstick?’

Patrick’s counsel told the
jury that there could be no end to the calling of one witness to discredit
another.

He
asked them to ignore the extraordinary and, on the face of it, wild accusations
of Father Socket’s former and, on her own admission, embittered typist, Miss
Elsie Forrest. She had admitted to malice.

The
extremely dubious evidence of Mrs. Freda Flower…. Everything to show that she
was in the habit of trances….

The
clear evidence of the accused… his insistence that the statement was not made
while he was in a responsible condition…. Reflecting, as it did on our ancient
liberties….

The
case of forgery was wiped out by the evidence of Mr. Fairley. Particularly to
be noted was Mr. Fairley’s insistence on the effects of variable human moods on
handwriting….

The
jury must rid itself of prejudice against spiritualism.

Patrick’s
counsel then listed a number of prominent persons, dead and alive, who had
adorned the spiritualist movement. He looked at his watch and sat down.

Martin
Bowles rose to recite the discredit of all witnesses except his own. ‘The
letter is undated,’ said Martin, ‘Why? — Because when he forged that letter he
forgot the exact date of the cheque which Mrs. Flower had given him, and which
he now claims accompanied the letter.’ He repeated Elsie’s story. He reminded
the jury that Fairley was getting on in years, and though must be respected,
could hardly compete with a younger mind. He started to ridicule all references
to the mediumistic trances which had cropped up in the case — ‘foaming mouths,
upturned eyes, twitching limbs and so forth’ but seemed suddenly to be visited
by a deterrent thought, which Ronald assumed to be a mental image of himself
lying kicking and foaming only a few hours ago under the witness box.

Martin
switched away from trances and weighed into Patrick and his influence on Mrs.
Flower.

‘You
will recall that this man affected a certain delicacy in revealing his intimate
relations with Mrs. Flower. Yet he did not hesitate to defraud her….’

Ronald,
heavy with the effects of his fit, sat with his eyes on Martin.

‘He did
not hesitate to rob her, he did not hesitate to exert his influence by means of
those intimate relations with Mrs. Flower.’

With
Isobel Billows, thought Ronald.

‘And
yet he stands here and poses as her protector. You observe the irony, ladies
and gentlemen of the jury.’

The
irony, ladies and gentlemen, thought Ronald. It was a very disreputable case,
said the judge in his summing up, and in some respects a nauseating one. It was
his duty to direct the jury to rid their minds of all prejudice against
spiritualism as such…. It was his duty to define both fraudulent conversion
and forgery…. Forgery was…. Fraudulent conversion was….

This
was a case which. if there were any substance in it, could have grave and
serious implications. Detective-Inspector Fergusson had sworn on oath that the
accused had made a certain statement while in a lucid condition of mind. That
statement had been produced in court. It contained an admission of the charge
of fraudulent conversion. It bore the signature of the accused.

Moreover,
Detective-Inspector Fergusson had denied that the accused had at any subsequent
time applied to withdraw the statement. The jury should give these facts their
weightiest consideration.

‘They always
stand by the police,’ Alice whispered, ‘but the jury knows different.’

The
judge looked at his watch. Much, however, he was saying, hinged on the question
of forgery.

The
evidence of the two graphologists tended to cancel each other out and, if he might
say so, was less than useless. No prejudice should obtain in the case of Mr.
Ronald Bridges whose unfortunate collapse in court, he understood, had been due
to an inherent disease and was in no way connected with the dis-edifying
trances described by various witnesses.

Mrs.
Flower appeared to be a very foolish woman. It must be taken into account that
she had strongly indicated in her evidence the possibility of having written
the letter while in a state of insensibility. The jury would have the opportunity
of examining the letter and forming their own conclusions on this point. But
while such a doubt was present in Mrs. Flower’s mind it must certainly receive
every consideration…. The letter was undated. It had been suggested that the
accused forgot the date of the cheque….

A man
was innocent until he was proved guilty. While there was reasonable doubt that
the accused was the author of the letter he could not be found guilty.

The
jury must be clear that if they brought in a verdict of Not Guilty for forgery
they could not logically bring a verdict of Guilty for fraudulent conversion.
Everything hung on the question of forgery….

The
evidence of Mr. Socket must be weighed against the evidence of Miss Elsie
Forrest, and vice versa. The fact that Miss Forrest had offered evidence at the
last moment must not be allowed to weigh against that evidence. She was, on her
own admission, impulsive by nature. On the other hand she admitted to a motive
of malice against Socket, and this, whether justified or not, must be taken
into account.

‘Whatever
your sympathies in this case,’ he said, ‘it is the evidence that counts. I will
run over the evidence once more….

The
jury withdrew at twenty minutes to five. ‘We’ll have time for tea,’ said
Matthew. ‘They’ll be out for at least an hour.’

‘The
judge was against us,’ Alice said, ‘but the jury can’t find him guilty if there’s
a reasonable doubt about the forgery. The judge said so himself.’

‘Come
on,’ said Matthew.

She was
looking at Patrick and he at her before he turned through the dock door. His
face was radiant. The bags packed, the insulin.

‘Our
bags are all ready packed,’ said Alice. ‘We can leave in the morning.’

‘The
blonde woman was looking pretty nasty about Socket after Elsie had finished.’

‘I’ll
never speak to Elsie again. The whole court was with us after Father Socket’s
evidence. The whole court. No matter what they say about evidence.’

They
sat over their hot canteen tea. ‘It’s kicking,’ said Alice. ‘Oh, God, I wish
this was over.’

Patrick looked up at Alice.
It was the only thing, to look and look at Alice. Imprisonment was not the end
of the world, he had always found a niche in prisons. But now, this thirst for
Alice. She is mine, I have paid…. She would probably twitch before she died.
She had agreed by acquiescence.

The
jury were filing in. It was twenty past five.

To make
Alice into something spiritual. It was godlike, to conquer that body, to return
it to the earth….

‘On the
charge of forgery.’

‘Guilty.’

‘On the
charge of fraudulent conversion.’

‘Guilty.’

‘I don’t
believe in God,’ said Alice. ‘There will have to be an appeal.’

‘Quiet,
now,” said Matthew.

‘It was
Elsie mentioning the man with lipstick,’ Alice said. ‘That did it. I knew!’

‘It was
a help,’ said Matthew.

Fergusson
was up in the witness box again. He was reading out a list. At Canterbury in
May 1923 … three months for larceny. At Surrey Quarter Sessions in 1930, six
months for obtaining on false pretences … in 1932, six months … in 1942,
eighteen months and six months to run consecutively for fraudulent conversion …
Maidstone Assizes, in 1948, three years for forgery and fraudulent conversion.
He is described as a spiritualistic medium, unmarried, resident at …

‘What’s
this all about?’ said Alice.

‘They
call it the antecedents. It’s Patrick’s criminal record.’

‘I don’t
believe it,’ she said. ‘There’s got to be an appeal.’

‘He can’t
appeal with that record.’

‘The
bags are packed,’ she said. ‘And he’s a genuine medium.’

‘Just
keep still,’ Matthew said. ‘Nothing matters.’

‘A most
disreputable case,’ said the judge. ‘A widow … her savings. The distasteful
proceedings — I may say without prejudice to any more respectable
manifestations of the cult as might exist — the distasteful proceedings of the
séance room and the scope it offers for the intimidation of weak people…. The
evidence given by Mr. Socket must be looked into: these courts must be kept
clean of…. Mrs. Flower has been a very foolish woman.’ He glanced towards
Patrick. ‘Have you anything to say?’

Patrick
looked at Fergusson and then at the judge.

‘Only,’
he said, ‘to ask—”

‘Speak
up, please.’

‘Only
to say that the lady I am living with is expecting a baby and needs me by her
side, and—’

The
judge did not look up. ‘I cannot sentence you to less than five years.’

‘I don’t
believe in God,’ said Alice, clutching her stomach.

Ronald went home to bed.
He slept heavily and woke at midnight, and went out to walk off his demons.

Martin
Bowles, Patrick Seton, Socket.

And the
others as well, rousing him up: fruitless souls, crumbling tinder, like his own
self which did not bear thinking of. But it is all demonology, he thought, and
he brought them all to witness, in his old style, one by one before the courts
of his mind. Tim Raymond, Ewart Thornton, Walter Prett, Matthew Finch — will I,
won’t I marry her? — Eccie, and himself kicking under the witness box, himself,
now, incensed; and all the rest of them. He sent these figures away like demons
of the air until he could think of them again with indifference or amusement or
wonder.