Taken at the Flood - Agatha Christie [51]
The coroner cleared his throat and glancing round the jury of nine local worthies, started proceedings.
Constable Peacock —
Sergeant Vane…
Dr Lionel Cloade…
‘You were attending a patient professionally at the Stag, when Gladys Aitkin came to you. What did she say?’
‘She informed me that the occupant of No. 5 was lying on the floor dead.’
‘In consequence you went up to No. 5?’
‘I did.’
‘Will you describe what you found there?’
Dr Cloade described. Body of a man…face downwards…head injuries…back of skull…fire-tongs.
‘You were of opinion, that the injuries were inflicted with the tongs in question?’
‘Some of them unquestionably were.’
‘And that several blows had been struck?’
‘Yes. I did not make a detailed examination as I considered that the police should be called before the body was touched or its position altered.’
‘Very proper. The man was dead?’
‘Yes. He had been dead for some hours.’
‘How long in your opinion had he been dead?’
‘I should hesitate to be very definite about that. At least eleven hours — quite possibly thirteen or fourteen — let us say between 7.30 and 10.30 p.m. the preceding evening.’
‘Thank you, Dr Cloade.’
Then came the police surgeon — giving a full and technical description of the wounds. There was an abrasion and swelling on the lower jaw and five or six blows had been struck on the base of the skull, some of which had been delivered after death.
‘It was an assault of great savagery?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Would great strength have been needed to inflict these blows?’
‘N-no, not exactly strength. The tongs, grasped by the pincers end, could be easily swung without much exertion. The heavy steel ball which forms the head of the tongs makes them a formidable weapon. Quite a delicate person could have inflicted the injuries if, that is to say, they were struck in a frenzy of excitement.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
Details as to the condition of the body followed — well nourished, healthy, age about forty-five. No signs of illness or disease — heart, lungs, etc., all good.
Beatrice Lippincott gave evidence of the arrival of the deceased. He had registered as Enoch Arden, Cape Town.
‘Did deceased produce a ration book?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Did you ask him for one?’
‘Not at first. I did not know how long he was staying.’
‘But you did eventually ask him?’
‘Yes, sir. He arrived on the Friday and on Saturday I said if he was staying more than five days would he please let me have his ration book.’
‘What did he say to that?’
‘He said he would give it to me.’
‘But he did not actually do so?’
‘No.’
‘He did not say that he had lost it? Or had not got one?’
‘Oh, no. He just said, “I’ll look it out and bring it along.”’
‘Miss Lippincott, did you, on the night of Saturday, overhear a certain conversation?’
With a good deal of elaborate explanation as to the necessity she was under of visiting No. 4, Beatrice Lippincott told her tale. The coroner guided her astutely.
‘Thank you. Did you mention this conversation you had overheard to anybody?’
‘Yes, I told Mr Rowley Cloade.’
‘Why did you tell Mr Cloade?’
‘I thought he ought to know.’ Beatrice flushed.
A tall thin man (Mr Gaythorne) rose and asked permission to put a question.
‘In the course of the conversation between the deceased and Mr David Hunter did the deceased at any time mention definitely that he himself was Robert Underhay?’
‘No — no — he didn’t.’
‘In fact he spoke of “Robert Underhay” as though Robert Underhay was quite another person?’
‘Yes — yes, he did.’
‘Thank you, Mr Coroner, that was all I wanted to get clear.’
Beatrice Lippincott stood down and Rowley Cloade was called.
He confirmed that Beatrice had repeated the story to him and then gave his account of his interview with the deceased.
‘His last words to you were, “I don’t think you’ll prove that without my co-operation?