Johnny Swanson - Eleanor Updale [51]
There were some more giggles from the public gallery. The lawyer hushed them with another question.
‘I’m sure you do, madam. Now, tell me this. During your observation of the house over the years, have you formed an opinion of the accused and her relationship with the Langfords?’
‘I dare say Mrs Langford treated her kindly. But I thought the accused got on rather better with Dr Langford. Lately I’d sometimes see them meeting and talking together, very early in the morning, outside the house. Dr Langford even gave that son of hers rides on his bicycle.’
‘Are you implying that the relationship between Mrs Swanson and her employer might have been too close?’
‘You might infer that, sir, if you choose to.’
Winnie wasn’t too sure what all this ‘imply’ and ‘infer’ stuff meant, but she could tell what Miss Dangerfield was suggesting, and she cried out, ‘No. That’s not true.’ But it was too late. Miss Dangerfield had managed to introduce an extra element into the case against her.
The lawyer followed it up. ‘Miss Dangerfield, in your long observation of the accused, have you noticed anything else about her character?’
‘Well, I know she works in a pub. Some way from our part of town.’
‘In a rough area?’
‘Indeed. And I know she can’t control her son. That time he was up a tree in the Langfords’ garden, she was there, shouting at him, but she didn’t seem able to make him come down.’
‘Could you hear what she was saying to him?’
‘No, I can’t quite recall. I believe my radio-gramophone may have been on at the time. But whatever she was saying, it wasn’t having any effect.’
Hutch sat in the public gallery, trying to be hopeful. Despite all the bad things Miss Dangerfield had said, as far as he could tell all she’d really proved was that Winnie was outside the doctor’s house on the fateful night. And how much notice would the court take of a sour spinster’s picture of Winnie’s character? If Miss Dangerfield was the only witness the police had against her, perhaps things weren’t as bad as they’d seemed.
But she wasn’t the only witness. Hamish Alexander Murray was called to the stand. It was the PE master from school, wearing a suit rather than his usual sports kit. The lawyer asked him to state his name, and then confirmed that he was a teacher, and that his facial injuries had been sustained in the war. Hutch could see why he was doing that – to make Murray sound like a hero so that his evidence would be more convincing.
‘Mr Murray,’ said the lawyer, ‘on the night of December the tenth – that is, the night before Dr Langford’s body was discovered – where were you?’
‘I was in the Black Horse public house, sir.’
‘And in the course of the evening, did you see the accused?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now let us be clear. She was not serving behind the bar?’
‘No, sir. She doesn’t work there. I believe Mrs Swanson works in an altogether different class of establishment. She came into the Black Horse for a drink.’
‘And what time was that?’
‘About seven thirty. Maybe seven forty-five.’
‘And you are sure this was on December the tenth?’
‘Yes, sir. It was the night of the storm. She was soaking wet when she arrived, rather bedraggled, and behaving strangely, I remember.’
‘And she was alone?’
‘Yes, sir. I noticed that. I’m sure everybody did. Not many respectable women go into pubs by themselves.’
‘Indeed,’ said the lawyer, hoping the magistrate would draw the obvious conclusion about Winnie’s character. ‘And how would you describe her demeanour?’
‘She looked distressed. Wild, I’d say. Her hair was all over the place, and she was covered in mud. She wouldn’t meet my eyes when I tried to say hello. I would say she was in a real state.’
‘A state? A state of shock?’
‘More agitation … as if something had just happened to her, or as if she had just done something exciting. Desperate, if you get my meaning. More like an animal than a human being.’
The public gallery took in a collective gulp of breath. The lawyer raised one eyebrow just a little, and carried on. ‘Did she speak to anyone else?’
‘Just to order a drink.’