The Dead Duke, His Secret Wife and the Missing Corpse (28 page)

The next day, Fletcher had come to see Botten with a written statement. Botten had not kept it, but to the best of his recollection it said ‘that I as an expert was thoroughly conversant with paper that was made in America fifty years ago’. Botten told the clerk he was nothing of the sort, as in fact he knew nothing of what America produced fifty years ago. Fletcher ran his pencil through that sentence. The next sentence was: ‘That I had been all my life in the paper trade, that I was an expert and thoroughly knew what I was talking about.’ Botten retorted that this was patent nonsense – that he was a dealer in paper, and did not claim to be an expert. Fletcher ran his pencil through that sentence also. Botten then said to the clerk, ‘I will tell you what I did tell Kimber. I said that I thought it
very doubtful whether that class of paper was made in 1861, or that period.’ Fletcher took this down in shorthand. Botten then told the clerk he was minded to go and see Messrs Freshfield about it. Fletcher put no more questions to him after that. In his subsequent interview with Freshfields, Botten continued:

1861 or 1862 was the year when the duty came off paper, and I personally doubt whether paper as common as this was made at the time. It was a cheap engine-sized paper, I think. I did not examine enough of the paper to see if there was a watermark or not. Pages of a book of this size would be cut from a larger sheet of paper, in cheap paper like this sometimes 8 times as large as the page. You might examine 20 sheets and only find a watermark on the 21st. In common engine-sized writing paper like this, the manufacturer does not put a watermark in unless it is ordered.

The way in which Kimber had treated Botten’s ‘evidence’ and misrepresented his statements recalled, to Dew’s mind, what Mary Ann Robinson had told him about the solicitor’s amendments to her diary.

As for the journalist John Sheridan, the account that Edward Mussabini had given to J. G. Littlechild of his dealings with his mother-in-law, Mrs Hamilton, suggested flagrant manipulation of the evidence of a key trial witness. And more evidence against Sheridan was emerging. In the course of his investigations, Dew had interviewed Edward Phillips, the former managing clerk of Macarthurs & Co., the solicitors originally employed by Anna Maria Druce to fight her case in 1898. Macarthurs, along with her barrister Arnold Statham,
had withdrawn from the case after Mrs Druce insisted on issuing bonds to raise funds. According to Phillips, John Sheridan had introduced Mrs Hamilton to Macarthurs after he had interviewed her with Edward Mussabini in Anderton’s Hotel. After hearing Mrs Hamilton’s story, Phillips asked Sheridan not to publish any details in a newspaper, as it might harm Anna Maria’s case. However, he later found that Sheridan had published a lengthy interview with her in
Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper
. Phillips also told Dew that he had received one day a letter from a man describing himself as Robert Caldwell, claiming to have an intimate knowledge of the 5th Duke. He had shown it to Arnold Statham, who had dismissed the letter as ‘one written by a maniac’. Phillips had granted Sheridan access to his files in return for him helping with his research. On going through his files after Sheridan’s visit, he found that the letter from Caldwell had disappeared. He was sure, he told Dew, that Caldwell’s letter had been taken from the file by Sheridan, who had subsequently sold it to the Australian party when they took over the claim after Anna Maria’s case collapsed.

The problem with all of this, as Inspector Dew well knew, was that so much of it was speculation, based on innuendo, circumstantial evidence and unreliable witnesses. The most damning evidence against Kimber and Sheridan, after all, came from Mary Ann Robinson and Margaret Hamilton – who were themselves on trial for perjury. As for John Sheridan, Dew had recently had an interview with the Official Receiver’s Office (which was looking into the role of the journalist in the affairs of the various Druce-Portland companies, by then bankrupt). According to the official receiver, Sheridan had submitted a
doctor’s letter to the Commission, certifying that he was suffering from tuberculosis of the lungs and throat, that his condition was most severe, and that it was necessary for him to have a rest from business affairs, most particularly from speaking. How very convenient, Dew muttered to himself.

Most perturbing of all, however, was the role that appeared to have been played in the conspiracy by a man whom Dew himself had always held in the highest regard: retired Chief Inspector John Conquest, formerly of Scotland Yard’s Criminal Investigation Department. It was an undisputed fact that Conquest had helped the Druce party in putting together its case. If the evidence unearthed by the 6th Duke’s land agent, Thomas Warner Turner, was correct, it would appear that Conquest had been involved in acquiring by deception some of the 5th Duke’s old clothes from the family of his former valet, with the fraudulent purpose of passing them off in court as heirlooms supposedly possessed by the family of George Hollamby. Brought against a high-ranking former police officer, such a charge (that of effectively conspiring to pervert the course of justice) was of an extremely grave nature indeed. The British public of the period idolized the amateur detective, epitomized by the ultimate gentleman sleuth, Sherlock Holmes. However, the professional plain-clothes policeman – meddling in the affairs of ordinary people – had been traditionally regarded with deep suspicion. Dew was old enough to remember from his teenage years, when he was a humble railway porter harbouring dreams of joining the Metropolitan Police Force, the notorious police coruption case known as the Turf Fraud Scandal. In 1877 three senior police detectives – Inspector John Meiklejohn, Chief Inspector Nathaniel Druscovich and Chief Inspector Palmer – had been accused of accepting bribes from a pair of City swindlers, Harry Benson and William Kurr, for keeping them informed of police movements to track them down. Benson and Kurr had stolen over £30,000 from a Parisian lady, Madame de Goncourt, in a scam involving horseracing bets. Nobody could work out how the pair of crooks always managed to remain one step ahead of the police – until the mystery was revealed. The ensuing ‘Trial of the Detectives’ had been one of the most sensational court cases of the 1870s. Meiklejohn, Druscovich and Palmer had been found guilty and sentenced to two years in prison. Public outrage at the scandal had led to a Committee of Inquiry, which resulted in the reorganization of the police force, including the replacement of the former Detective Branch by the CID.

If Bertha Lambourn, the daughter of the duke’s valet Harrington, who had been swindled into selling his clothes, identified the man who called on her as John Conquest – as seemed likely to be the case – the conduct of the retired chief inspector would be exposed, and another public scandal would certainly ensue. Dew’s spirits sank at the thought. Public confidence in the plain-clothes police force would be rocked again. The Metropolitan Police CID – an institution that had raised him from a humble railway porter to a member of the respectable middle class, which had opened doors to him in the highest echelons of society, and which he revered as the greatest police force in the world – would undoubtedly suffer lasting damage to its reputation.

*

In London, as the months rolled on, Inspector Dew continued to worry about the far-reaching implications of the Druce investigation. In the meantime, spring had come to Welbeck Abbey. For the first time, a delicate tracery of tiny green buds appeared on the branches of the ancient beeches and tall hedgerows that lined the avenues of the estate. Snowdrops, crocuses and even the earliest daffodils pushed through the soil. As the days became warmer and brighter, the 6th Duke and Thomas Warner Turner also seemed to grow lighter in spirit, exchanging pleasantries with the workers on their rounds of the estate. Perhaps this was due to more than just the change of season: for they were also becoming more and more confident of victory. Events were finally taking a turn in their favour.

Mrs Hamilton’s trial began in April, and being prosecuted by the pitiless Horace Avory, her defence stood little chance of success. She was duly found guilty by the jury and convicted in May, although – as Dew had predicted – she was granted a relatively lenient sentence of eighteen months’ imprisonment because of her age. Mary Ann Robinson’s treatment was less sympathetic. Despite her guilty plea and a skilful defence on the part of her Counsel Sir Edward Marshall Hall – who took great pains to point out that she was but a puppet in the affair – she was convicted in April, and sentenced to four years’ penal servitude. Caldwell continued to languish in the New York asylum, eluding extradition by the British authorities, until the Home Office finally gave up on him, as a lost cause, in June.

The convictions of Mary Ann Robinson and Mrs Hamilton gave a taste of sweet vengeance to the 6th Duke and his advisors, but it was not enough. ‘His Grace’, Turner wrote to Horseman
Bailey in January, ‘is on the whole happy with the outcome of the case, but is desirous of dealing in a strong manner with all persons who should be brought to book.’ Turner reminded Bailey that the duke was happy with progress so far, but was ‘very impatient for action to be brought against Coburn and the whole crew’. The 6th Duke even went so far as to ask if steps could be taken to prevent Llewellyn Atherley-Jones from being appointed a recorder in Newcastle because of his role in the matter, but was tactfully dissuaded from such a course by Turner and Horseman Bailey. It seemed, however, only a matter of time before Kimber, Coburn, George Hollamby and Sheridan were put in the dock. Thomas Warner Turner rubbed his chubby hands in glee. The moment was drawing ever nearer. What joy to witness the scoundrels cower in the witness box – the very spot that they had been cunning enough to avoid thus far, getting their lackeys to do the dirty work for them – and pay the price! But then a thunderbolt struck.

*

On 1 June 1908, Horseman Bailey received the following letter from Lord Desart at the office of the Director of Public Prosecutions:

The Director of Public Prosecutions
Treasury Chambers, Whitehall, London S.W.

1st June, 1908

Gentlemen,

Re DRUCE

With reference to your application to this Department that a prosecution should be instituted by the Director of
Public Prosecutions against George Hollamby Druce and a number of other persons on certain charges of misdemeanour, I have this day received from the Attorney-General directions that such a prosecution is not to be conducted by this Department. It will not be necessary to point out to you that this decision will in no way prevent the institution of criminal proceedings at the instance of a private prosecutor.

I have the honour to be, Gentlemen,
Your obedient servant,

Desart

Bailey, Turner and the duke were aghast. They simply could not believe it. The entire Druce affair had been summarily dropped from further public investigation.

*1
  
That is, over £300,000 in today’s money.

Laws, like the spider’s web, catch the fly and let the hawk go free.

Spanish proverb

For several days after the surprise determination of the Director of Public Prosecutions not to proceed with any further prosecutions in relation to the Druce affair, there was a flurry of activity from the duke’s advisors to try to get the government to change its mind. Horseman Bailey replied to Desart’s letter immediately, the hurt tone of his response conveying a stinging rebuke:

5, Berners Street,
London,
June 3rd, 1908

My Lord,

Re DRUCE

We have to acknowledge receipt of your Lordship’s letter of the 1st instant informing us of the decision come to that a Prosecution is not to be conducted by your Department against George Hollamby Druce and other Persons.

We regret the decision arrived at, as we cannot but feel that the prospects of bringing the Guilty to Justice in any proceedings our Client might be advised to take must be diminished by the fact that, notwithstanding that the Treasury have taken Action against certain of the witnesses who gave evidence in the recent Proceedings, they have refrained from prosecuting the Persons chiefly concerned in promoting what Mr Justice Walden described as a monstrous Claim.

We have the honour to be,
My Lord,
Your Lordship’s very faithful servants,
Baileys, Shaw & Gillett

The next day, Horseman Bailey obtained a joint legal opinion from the barristers R. B. Finlay, Horace Avory and S. A. T. Rowlatt. The opinion justified a charge of champerty
*1
and conspiracy to prejudice the due course of justice against George Hollamby, John Crickmer, Thomas Coburn, John Sheridan and Edmund Kimber, but not against Fanny Druce’s grandson, the journalist Kenneth Henderson (the role of Inspector Conquest was not, it appears, discussed). Further representations were made to the public authorities. But it was to no avail. The Druce case, as far as the government was concerned, was a book that was now firmly shut.

*

Chief Inspector Dew was not as surprised as the Duke’s advisors to find that the Druce case was closed. In fact – although he hardly dared admit it, even to himself – he was, perhaps, even slightly relieved. It never did any good to attack the reputations of one’s fellows in the profession. Dew did not know for sure who had ensured the dismissal of further proceedings in the Druce case. There were any number of interested people who could have found a sympathetic ear in which to whisper in the cosy bars of one of the many gentlemen’s clubs scattered over London. Retired Chief Inspector John Conquest – who had a lot to lose from further investigations of the fraud – still had many friends in high places. Edmund Kimber had the powerful solicitors’ association, the Law Society, to back him up. A number of peers and other establishment figures – including Lord Deerhurst and the leading barrister Thomas Crispe, KC – had either toyed with investing, or actually bought, Druce company shares, and stood to lose professional credibility if they were exposed as investors in a fraud. It was in the interests of all these people that the Druce case was buried as quietly as possible. The Druce affair, in fact, became messier the closer one got to the heart of the matter. Better to stop with the two mad old women, who had been convicted and were even now toiling in penal servitude, and about whom nobody cared two hoots.