CHAPTER XV
THE FINGER-PRINT EXPERTS
The hum of conversation that had been gradually increasing as the courtfilled suddenly ceased. A door at the back of the dais was flung open;counsel, solicitors, and spectators alike rose to their feet; and thejudge entered, closely followed by the Lord Mayor, the sheriff, andvarious civic magnates, all picturesque and gorgeous in their robes andchains of office. The Clerk of Arraigns took his place behind his tableunder the dais; the counsel suspended their conversation and fingeredtheir briefs; and, as the judge took his seat, lawyers, officials, andspectators took their seats, and all eyes were turned towards the dock.
A few moments later Reuben Hornby appeared in the enclosure in companywith a warder, the two rising, apparently, from the bowels of the earth,and, stepping forward to the bar, stood with a calm and self-possesseddemeanour, glancing somewhat curiously around the court. For an instanthis eye rested upon the group of friends and well-wishers seated behindthe counsel, and the faintest trace of a smile appeared on his face; butimmediately he turned his eyes away and never again throughout the triallooked in our direction.
The Clerk of Arraigns now rose and, reading from the indictment whichlay before him on the table, addressed the prisoner--
"Reuben Hornby, you stand indicted for that you did, on the ninth ortenth day of March, feloniously steal a parcel of diamonds of the goodsand chattels of John Hornby. Are you guilty or not guilty?"
"Not guilty," replied Reuben.
The Clerk of Arraigns, having noted the prisoner's reply, thenproceeded--
"The gentlemen whose names are about to be called will form the jury whoare to try you. If you wish to object to any of them, you must do so aseach comes to the book to be sworn, and before he is sworn. You willthen be heard."
In acknowledgment of this address, which was delivered in clear, ringingtones, and with remarkable distinctness, Reuben bowed to the clerk, andthe process of swearing-in the jury was commenced, while the counselopened their briefs and the judge conversed facetiously with anofficial in a fur robe and a massive neck chain.
Very strange, to unaccustomed eyes and ears, was the effect of thisfunction--half solemn and half grotesque, with an effect intermediatebetween that of a religious rite and that of a comic opera. Above thehalf-suppressed hum of conversation the clerk's voice arose at regularintervals, calling out the name of one of the jurymen, and, as its ownerstood up, the court usher, black-gowned and sacerdotal of aspect,advanced and proffered the book. Then, as the juryman took the volume inhis hand, the voice of the usher resounded through the court like thatof a priest intoning some refrain or antiphon--an effect that wasincreased by the rhythmical and archaic character of the formula--
"Samuel Seppings!"
A stolid-looking working-man rose and, taking the Testament in his hand,stood regarding the usher while that official sang out in a solemnmonotone--
"You shall well and truly try and true deliverance make between ourSovereign Lord the King and the prisoner at the bar, whom you shall havein charge, and a true verdict give according to the evidence. So helpyou God!"
"James Piper!" Another juryman rose and was given the Book to hold; andagain the monotonous sing-song arose--
"You shall well and truly try and true deliverance make, etc."
"I shall scream aloud if that horrible chant goes on much longer,"Juliet whispered. "Why don't they all swear at once and have done withit?"
"That would not meet the requirements," I answered. "However, there areonly two more, so you must have patience."
"And you will have patience with me, too, won't you? I am horriblyfrightened. It is all so solemn and dreadful."
"You must try to keep up your courage until Dr. Thorndyke has given hisevidence," I said. "Remember that, until he has spoken, everything isagainst Reuben; so be prepared."
"I will try," she answered meekly; "but I can't help being terrified."
The last of the jurymen was at length sworn, and when the clerk had oncemore called out the names one by one, the usher counting loudly as eachman answered to his name, the latter officer turned to the Court andspectators, and proclaimed in solemn tones--
"If anyone can inform my Lords the King's justices, the King'sattorney-general, or the King's serjeant, ere this inquest be now takenbetween our Sovereign Lord the King and the prisoner at the bar, of anytreason, murder, felony or misdemeanour, committed or done by him, lethim come forth and he shall be heard; for the prisoner stands at the barupon his deliverance."
This proclamation was followed by a profound silence, and after a briefinterval the Clerk of Arraigns turned towards the jury and addressedthem collectively--
"Gentlemen of the jury, the prisoner at the bar stands indicted by thename of Reuben Hornby, for that he, on the ninth or tenth of March,feloniously did steal, take and carry away a parcel of diamonds of thegoods of John Hornby. To this indictment he has pleaded that he is notguilty, and your charge is to inquire whether he be guilty or not and tohearken to the evidence."
When he had finished his address the clerk sat down, and the judge, athin-faced, hollow-eyed elderly man, with bushy grey eyebrows and a verylarge nose, looked attentively at Reuben for some moments over the topsof his gold-rimmed pince-nez. Then he turned towards the counsel nearestthe bench and bowed slightly.
The barrister bowed in return and rose, and for the first time Iobtained a complete view of Sir Hector Trumpler, K.C., the counsel forthe prosecution. His appearance was not prepossessing nor--though he wasa large man and somewhat florid as to his countenance--particularlystriking, except for a general air of untidiness. His gown was slippingoff one shoulder, his wig was perceptibly awry, and his pince-nezthreatened every moment to drop from his nose.
"The case that I have to present to you, my lord and gentlemen of thejury," he began in a clear, though unmusical voice, "is one the like ofwhich is but too often met with in this court. It is one in which weshall see unbounded trust met by treacherous deceit, in which we shallsee countless benefactions rewarded by the basest ingratitude, and inwhich we shall witness the deliberate renunciation of a life ofhonourable effort in favour of the tortuous and precarious ways of thecriminal. The facts of the case are briefly as follows: The prosecutorin this case--most unwilling prosecutor, gentlemen--is Mr. John Hornby,who is a metallurgist and dealer in precious metals. Mr. Hornby has twonephews, the orphan sons of his two elder brothers, and I may tell youthat since the decease of their parents he has acted the part of afather to both of them. One of these nephews is Mr. Walter Hornby, andthe other is Reuben Hornby, the prisoner at the bar. Both of thesenephews were received by Mr. Hornby into his business with a view totheir succeeding him when he should retire, and both, I need not say,occupied positions of trust and responsibility.
"Now, on the evening of the ninth of March there was delivered to Mr.Hornby a parcel of rough diamonds of which one of his clients asked himto take charge pending their transfer to the brokers. I need not burdenyou with irrelevant details concerning this transaction. It will sufficeto say that the diamonds, which were of the aggregate value of aboutthirty thousand pounds, were delivered to him, and the unopened packagedeposited by him in his safe, together with a slip of paper on which hehad written in pencil a memorandum of the circumstances. This was on theevening of the ninth of March, as I have said. Having deposited theparcel, Mr. Hornby locked the safe, and shortly afterwards left thepremises and went home, taking the keys with him.
"On the following morning, when he unlocked the safe, he perceived withastonishment and dismay that the parcel of diamonds had vanished. Theslip of paper, however, lay at the bottom of the safe, and on picking itup Mr. Hornby perceived that it bore a smear of blood, and in addition,the distinct impression of a human thumb. On this he closed and lockedthe safe and sent a note to the police station, in response to which avery intelligent officer--Inspector Sanderson--came and made apreliminary examination. I need not follow the case further, since thedetails will appear in th
e evidence, but I may tell you that, in effect,it has been made clear, beyond all doubt, that the thumb-print on thatpaper was the thumb-print of the prisoner, Reuben Hornby."
He paused to adjust his glasses, which were in the very act of fallingfrom his nose, and hitch up his gown, while he took a leisurely surveyof the jury, as though he were estimating their impressionability. Atthis moment I observed Walter Hornby enter the court and take up aposition at the end of our bench nearest the door; and, immediatelyafter, Superintendent Miller came in and seated himself on one of thebenches opposite.
"The first witness whom I shall call," said Sir Hector Trumpler, "isJohn Hornby."
Mr. Hornby, looking wild and agitated, stepped into the witness-box, andthe usher, having handed him the Testament, sang out--
"The evidence you shall give to the court and jury sworn, between ourSovereign Lord the King and the prisoner at the bar shall be the truth,the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; so help you God!"
Mr. Hornby kissed the Book, and, casting a glance of unutterable miseryat his nephew, turned towards the counsel.
"Your name is John Hornby, is it not?" asked Sir Hector.
"It is."
"And you occupy premises in St. Mary Axe?"
"Yes. I am a dealer in precious metals, but my business consistsprincipally in the assaying of samples of ore and quartz and bars ofsilver and gold."
"Do you remember what happened on the ninth of March last?"
"Perfectly. My nephew Reuben--the prisoner--delivered to me a parcel ofdiamonds which he had received from the purser of the _Elmina Castle_,to whom I had sent him as my confidential agent. I had intended todeposit the diamonds with my banker, but when the prisoner arrived at myoffice, the banks were already closed, so I had to put the parcel, forthe night, in my own safe. I may say that the prisoner was not in anyway responsible for the delay."
"You are not here to defend the prisoner," said Sir Hector. "Answer myquestions and make no comments, if you please. Was anyone present whenyou placed the diamonds in the safe?"
"No one was present but myself."
"I did not ask if you were present when you put them in," said SirHector (whereupon the spectators sniggered and the judge smiledindulgently). "What else did you do?"
"I wrote in pencil on a leaf of my pocket memorandum block, 'Handed inby Reuben at 7.3 p.m., 9.3.01,' and initialled it. Then I tore the leaffrom the block and laid it on the parcel, after which I closed the safeand locked it."
"How soon did you leave the premises after this?"
"Almost immediately. The prisoner was waiting for me in the outeroffice--"
"Never mind where the prisoner was; confine your answers to what isasked. Did you take the keys with you?"
"Yes."
"When did you next open the safe?"
"On the following morning at ten o'clock."
"Was the safe locked or unlocked when you arrived?"
"It was locked. I unlocked it."
"Did you notice anything unusual about the safe?"
"No."
"Had the keys left your custody in the interval?"
"No. They were attached to a key-chain, which I always wear."
"Are there any duplicates of those keys?--the keys of the safe, I mean."
"No, there are no duplicates."
"Have the keys ever gone out of your possession?"
"Yes. If I have had to be absent from the office for a considerabletime, it has been my custom to hand the keys to one of my nephews,whichever has happened to be in charge at the time."
"And never to any other person?"
"Never to any other person."
"What did you observe when you opened the safe?"
"I observed that the parcel of diamonds had disappeared."
"Did you notice anything else?"
"Yes. I found the leaf from my memorandum block lying at the bottom ofthe safe. I picked it up and turned it over, and then saw that therewere smears of blood on it and what looked like the print of a thumb inblood. The thumb-mark was on the under-surface, as the paper lay at thebottom of the safe."
"What did you do next?"
"I closed and locked the safe, and sent a note to the police stationsaying that a robbery had been committed on my premises."
"You have known the prisoner several years, I believe?"
"Yes; I have known him all his life. He is my eldest brother's son."
"Then you can tell us, no doubt, whether he is left-handed orright-handed?"
"I should say he was ambidextrous, but he uses his left hand bypreference."
"A fine distinction, Mr. Hornby; a very fine distinction. Now tell me,did you ascertain beyond all doubt that the diamonds were really gone?"
"Yes; I examined the safe thoroughly, first by myself and afterwardswith the police. There was no doubt that the diamonds had really gone."
"When the detective suggested that you should have the thumb-prints ofyour two nephews taken, did you refuse?"
"I refused."
"Why did you refuse?"
"Because I did not choose to subject my nephews to the indignity.Besides, I had no power to make them submit to the proceeding."
"Had you any suspicions of either of them?"
"I had no suspicions of anyone."
"Kindly examine this piece of paper, Mr. Hornby," said Sir Hector,passing across a small oblong slip, "and tell us if you recognise it."
Mr. Hornby glanced at the paper for a moment, and then said--
"This is the memorandum slip that I found lying at the bottom of thesafe."
"How do you identify it?"
"By the writing on it, which is in my own hand, and bears my initials."
"Is it the memorandum that you placed on the parcel of diamonds?"
"Yes."
"Was there any thumb-mark or blood-smear on it when you placed it in thesafe?"
"No."
"Was it possible that there could have been any such marks?"
"Quite impossible. I tore it from my memorandum block at the time Iwrote upon it."
"Very well." Sir Hector Trumpler sat down, and Mr. Anstey stood up tocross-examine the witness.
"You have told us, Mr. Hornby," said he, "that you have known theprisoner all his life. Now what estimate have you formed of hischaracter?"
"I have always regarded him as a young man of the highestcharacter--honourable, truthful, and in every way trustworthy. I havenever, in all my experience of him, known him to deviate ahair's-breadth from the strictest honour and honesty of conduct."
"You regarded him as a man of irreproachable character. Is that so?"
"That is so; and my opinion of him is unchanged."
"Has he, to your knowledge, any expensive or extravagant habits?"
"No. His habits are simple and rather thrifty."
"Have you ever known him to bet, gamble, or speculate?"
"Never."
"Has he ever seemed to be in want of money?"
"No. He has a small private income, apart from his salary, which I knowhe does not spend, since I have occasionally employed my broker toinvest his savings."
"Apart from the thumb-print which was found in the safe, are you awareof any circumstances that would lead you to suspect the prisoner ofhaving stolen the diamonds?"
"None whatever."
Mr. Anstey sat down, and as Mr. Hornby left the witness-box, mopping theperspiration from his forehead, the next witness was called.
"Inspector Sanderson!"
The dapper police officer stepped briskly into the box, and having beenduly sworn, faced the prosecuting counsel with the air of a man who wasprepared for any contingency.
"Do you remember," said Sir Hector, after the usual preliminaries hadbeen gone through, "what occurred on the morning of the tenth of March?"
"Yes. A note was handed to me at the station at 10.23 a.m. It was fromMr. John Hornby, and stated that a robbery had occurred at his premisesin St. Mary Axe. I went to the premises and arri
ved there at 10.31 a.m.There I saw the prosecutor, Mr. John Hornby, who told me that a parcelof diamonds had been stolen from the safe. At his request I examined thesafe. There were no signs of its having been forced open; the locksseemed to be quite uninjured and in good order. Inside the safe, on thebottom, I found two good-sized drops of blood, and a slip of paper withpencil-writing on it. The paper bore two blood-smears and a print of ahuman thumb in blood."
"Is this the paper?" asked the counsel, passing a small slip across tothe witness.
"Yes," replied the inspector, after a brief glance at the document.
"What did you do next?" "I sent a message to Scotland Yard acquaintingthe Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department with the facts, andthen went back to the station. I had no further connection with thecase."
Sir Hector sat down, and the judge glanced at Anstey.
"You tell us," said the latter, rising, "that you observed twogood-sized drops of blood on the bottom of the safe. Did you notice thecondition of the blood, whether moist or dry?"
"The blood looked moist, but I did not touch it. I left it undisturbedfor the detective officers to examine."
The next witness called was Sergeant Bates, of the CriminalInvestigation Department. He stepped into the box with the same ready,business-like air as the other officer, and, having been sworn,proceeded to give his evidence with a fluency that suggested carefulpreparation, holding an open notebook in his hand but making noreferences to it.
"On the tenth of March, at 12.8 p.m., I received instructions to proceedto St. Mary Axe to inquire into a robbery that had taken place there.Inspector Sanderson's report was handed to me, and I read it in the cabon my way to the premises. On arriving at the premises at 12.30 p.m., Iexamined the safe carefully. It was quite uninjured, and there were nomarks of any kind upon it. I tested the locks and found them perfect;there were no marks or indications of any picklock having been used. Onthe bottom of the inside I observed two rather large drops of a darkfluid. I took up some of the fluid on a piece of paper and found it tobe blood. I also found, in the bottom of the safe, the burnt head of awax match, and, on searching the floor of the office, I found, close bythe safe, a used wax match from which the head had fallen. I also founda slip of paper which appeared to have been torn from a perforatedblock. On it was written in pencil, 'Handed in by Reuben at 7.3 p.m.9.3.01. J.H.' There were two smears of blood on the paper and theimpression of a human thumb in blood. I took possession of the paper inorder that it might be examined by the experts. I inspected the officedoors and the outer door of the premises, but found no signs of forcibleentrance on any of them. I questioned the housekeeper, but obtained noinformation from him. I then returned to headquarters, made my reportand handed the paper with the marks on it to the Superintendent."
"Is this the paper that you found in the safe?" asked the counsel, oncemore handing the leaflet across.
"Yes; this is the paper."
"What happened next?"
"The following afternoon I was sent for by Mr. Singleton, of theFinger-print Department. He informed me that he had gone through thefiles and had not been able to find any thumb-print resembling the oneon the paper, and recommended me to endeavour to obtain prints of thethumbs of any persons who might have been concerned in the robbery. Healso gave me an enlarged photograph of the thumb-print for reference ifnecessary. I accordingly went to St. Mary Axe and had an interview withMr. Hornby, when I requested him to allow me to take prints of thethumbs of all the persons employed on the premises, including his twonephews. This he refused, saying that he distrusted finger-prints andthat there was no suspicion of anyone on the premises. I asked if hewould allow his nephews to furnish their thumb-prints privately, towhich he replied, 'Certainly not.'"
"Had you then any suspicion of either of the nephews?"
"I thought they were both open to some suspicion. The safe had certainlybeen opened with false keys, and as they had both had the real keys intheir possession it was possible that one of them might have takenimpressions in wax and made counterfeit keys."
"Yes."
"I called on Mr. Hornby several times and urged him, for the sake of hisnephews' reputations, to sanction the taking of the thumb-prints; but herefused very positively and forbade them to submit, although Iunderstood that they were both willing. It then occurred to me to try ifI could get any help from Mrs. Hornby, and on the fifteenth of March Icalled at Mr. Hornby's private house and saw her. I explained to herwhat was wanted to clear her nephews from the suspicion that rested onthem, and she then said that she could dispose of those suspicions atonce, for she could show me the thumb-prints of the whole family: shehad them all in a 'Thumbograph.'"
"A 'Thumbograph'?" repeated the judge. "What is a 'Thumbograph'?"
Anstey rose with the little red-covered volume in his hand.
"A 'Thumbograph,' my lord," said he, "is a book, like this, in whichfoolish people collect the thumb-prints of their more foolishacquaintances."
He passed the volume up to the judge, who turned over the leavescuriously and then nodded to the witness.
"Yes. She said she had them all in a 'Thumbograph.'"
"Then she fetched from a drawer a small red-covered book which sheshowed to me. It contained the thumb-prints of all the family and someof her friends."
"Is this the book?" asked the judge, passing the volume down to thewitness.
The sergeant turned over the leaves until he came to one which heapparently recognised, and said--
"Yes, m'lord; this is the book. Mrs. Hornby showed me the thumb-printsof various members of the family, and then found those of the twonephews. I compared them with the photograph that I had with me anddiscovered that the print of the left thumb of Reuben Hornby was inevery respect identical with the thumb-print shown in the photograph."
"What did you do then?"
"I asked Mrs. Hornby to lend me the 'Thumbograph' so that I might showit to the Chief of the Finger-print Department, to which she consented.I had not intended to tell her of my discovery, but, as I was leaving,Mr. Hornby arrived home, and when he heard of what had taken place, heasked me why I wanted the book, and then I told him. He was greatlyastonished and horrified, and wished me to return the book at once. Heproposed to let the whole matter drop and take the loss of the diamondson himself; but I pointed out that this was impossible as it wouldpractically amount to compounding a felony. Seeing that Mrs. Hornby wasso distressed at the idea of her book being used in evidence against hernephew, I promised her that I would return it to her if I could obtain athumb-print in any other way.
"I then took the 'Thumbograph' to Scotland Yard and showed it to Mr.Singleton, who agreed that the print of the left thumb of Reuben Hornbywas in every respect identical with the thumb-print on the paper foundin the safe. On this I applied for a warrant for the arrest of ReubenHornby, which I executed on the following morning. I told the prisonerwhat I had promised Mrs. Hornby, and he then offered to allow me to takea print of his left thumb so that his aunt's book should not have to beused in evidence."
"How is it, then," asked the judge, "that it has been put in evidence?"
"It has been put in by the defence, my lord," said Sir Hector Trumpler.
"I see," said the judge. "'A hair of the dog that bit him.' The'Thumbograph' is to be applied as a remedy on the principle that_similia similibus curantur_. Well?"
"When I arrested him, I administered the usual caution, and the prisonerthen said, 'I am innocent. I know nothing about the robbery.'"
The counsel for the prosecution sat down, and Anstey rose tocross-examine.
"You have told us," said he, in his clear musical voice, "that you foundat the bottom of the safe two rather large drops of a dark fluid whichyou considered to be blood. Now, what led you to believe that fluid tobe blood?"
"I took some of the fluid up on a piece of white paper, and it had theappearance and colour of blood."
"Was it examined microscopically or otherwise?"
"Not to my
knowledge."
"Was it quite liquid?"
"Yes, I should say quite liquid."
"What appearance had it on paper?"
"It looked like a clear red liquid of the colour of blood, and wasrather thick and sticky."
Anstey sat down, and the next witness, an elderly man, answering to thename of Francis Simmons, was called.
"You are the housekeeper at Mr. Hornby's premises in St. Mary Axe?"asked Sir Hector Trumpler.
"I am."
"Did you notice anything unusual on the night of the ninth of March?"
"I did not."
"Did you make your usual rounds on that occasion?"
"Yes. I went all over the premises several times during the night, andthe rest of the time I was in a room over the private office."
"Who arrived first on the morning of the tenth?"
"Mr. Reuben. He arrived about twenty minutes before anybody else."
"What part of the building did he go to?"
"He went into the private office, which I opened for him. He remainedthere until a few minutes before Mr. Hornby arrived, when he went up tothe laboratory."
"Who came next?"
"Mr. Hornby, and Mr. Walter came in just after him."
The counsel sat down, and Anstey proceeded to cross-examine the witness.
"Who was the last to leave the premises on the evening of the ninth?"
"I am not sure."
"Why are you not sure?"
"I had to take a note and a parcel to a firm in Shoreditch. When Istarted, a clerk named Thomas Holker was in the outer office and Mr.Walter Hornby was in the private office. When I returned they had bothgone."
"Was the outer door locked?"
"Yes."
"Had Holker a key of the outer door?"
"No. Mr. Hornby and his two nephews had each a key, and I have one. Noone else had a key."
"How long were you absent?"
"About three-quarters of an hour."
"Who gave you the note and the parcel?"
"Mr. Walter Hornby."
"When did he give them to you?"
"He gave them to me just before I started, and told me to go at once forfear the place should be closed before I got there."
"And was the place closed?"
"Yes. It was all shut up, and everybody had gone."
Anstey resumed his seat, the witness shuffled out of the box with an airof evident relief, and the usher called out, "Henry James Singleton."
Mr. Singleton rose from his seat at the table by the solicitors for theprosecution and entered the box. Sir Hector adjusted his glasses, turnedover a page of his brief, and cast a steady and impressive glance at thejury.
"I believe, Mr. Singleton," he said at length, "that you are connectedwith the Finger-print Department at Scotland Yard?"
"Yes. I am one of the chief assistants in that department."
"What are your official duties?"
"My principal occupation consists in the examination and comparison ofthe finger-prints of criminals and suspected persons. Thesefinger-prints are classified by me according to their characters andarranged in files for reference."
"I take it that you have examined a great number of finger-prints?"
"I have examined many thousands of finger-prints, and have studied themclosely for purposes of identification."
"Kindly examine this paper, Mr. Singleton" (here the fatal leaflet washanded to him by the usher); "have you ever seen it before?"
"Yes. It was handed to me for examination at my office on the tenth ofMarch."
"There is a mark upon it--the print of a finger or thumb. Can you tellus anything about that mark?"
"It is the print of the left thumb of Reuben Hornby, the prisoner atthe bar."
"You are quite sure of that?"
"I am quite sure."
"Do you swear that the mark upon that paper was made by the thumb of theprisoner?"
"I do."
"Could it not have been made by the thumb of some other person?"
"No; it is impossible that it could have been made by any other person."
At this moment I felt Juliet lay a trembling hand on mine, and, glancingat her, I saw that she was deathly pale. I took her hand in mine and,pressing it gently, whispered to her, "Have courage; there is nothingunexpected in this."
"Thank you," she whispered in reply, with a faint smile; "I will try;but it is all so horribly unnerving."
"You consider," Sir Hector proceeded, "that the identity of thisthumb-print admits of no doubt?" "It admits of no doubt whatever,"replied Mr. Singleton.
"Can you explain to us, without being too technical, how you havearrived at such complete certainty?"
"I myself took a print of the prisoner's thumb--having first obtainedthe prisoner's consent after warning him that the print would be used inevidence against him--and I compared that print with the mark on thispaper. The comparison was made with the greatest care and by the mostapproved method, point by point and detail by detail, and the two printswere found to be identical in every respect.
"Now it has been proved by exact calculations--which calculations I havepersonally verified---that the chance that the print of a single fingerof any given person will be exactly like the print of the same finger ofany other given person is as one to sixty-four thousand millions. Thatis to say that, since the number of the entire human race is aboutsixteen thousand millions, the chance is about one to four that theprint of a single finger of any one person will be identical with thatof the same finger of any other member of the human race.
"It has been said by a great authority--and I entirely agree with thestatement--that a complete, or nearly complete, accordance between twoprints of a single finger affords evidence requiring no corroborationthat the persons from whom they were made are the same.
"Now, these calculations apply to the prints of ordinary and normalfingers or thumbs. But the thumb from which these prints were taken isnot ordinary or normal. There is upon it a deep but clean linearscar--the scar of an old incised wound--and this scar passes across thepattern of the ridges, intersecting the latter at certain places anddisturbing their continuity at others. Now this very characteristic scaris an additional feature, having a set of chances of its own. So that wehave to consider not only the chance that the print of the prisoner'sleft thumb should be identical with the print of some other person'sleft thumb--which is as one to sixty-four thousand millions--but thefurther chance that these two identical thumb-prints should be traversedby the impression of a scar identical in size and appearance, andintersecting the ridges at exactly the same places and producingfailures of continuity in the ridges of exactly the same character. Butthese two chances, multiplied into one another, yield an ultimate chanceof about one to four thousand trillions that the prisoner's left thumbwill exactly resemble the print of some other person's thumb, both as tothe pattern and the scar which crosses the pattern; in other words sucha coincidence is an utter impossibility."
Sir Hector Trumpler took off his glasses and looked long and steadily atthe jury as though he should say, "Come, my friends; what do you thinkof that?" Then he sat down with a jerk and turned towards Anstey andThorndyke with a look of triumph.
"Do you propose to cross-examine the witness?" inquired the judge,seeing that the counsel for the defence made no sign.
"No, my lord," replied Anstey.
Thereupon Sir Hector Trumpler turned once more towards the defendingcounsel, and his broad, red face was illumined by a smile of deepsatisfaction. That smile was reflected on the face of Mr. Singleton ashe stepped from the box, and, as I glanced at Thorndyke, I seemed todetect, for a single instant, on his calm and immovable countenance, thefaintest shadow of a smile.
"Herbert John Nash!"
A plump, middle-aged man, of keen, though studious, aspect, stepped intothe box, and Sir Hector rose once more.
"You are one of the chief assistants in the Finger-print Department, Ibelieve, Mr. Nash?"
; "I am."
"Have you heard the evidence of the last witness?"
"I have."
"Do you agree with the statements made by that witness?"
"Entirely. I am prepared to swear that the print on the paper found inthe safe is that of the left thumb of the prisoner, Reuben Hornby."
"And you are certain that no mistake is possible?"
"I am certain that no mistake is possible."
Again Sir Hector glanced significantly at the jury as he resumed hisseat, and again Anstey made no sign beyond the entry of a few notes onthe margin of his brief.
"Are you calling any more witnesses?" asked the judge, dipping his penin the ink.
"No, my lord," replied Sir Hector. "That is our case."
Upon this Anstey rose and, addressing the judge, said--
"I call witnesses, my lord."
The judge nodded and made an entry in his notes while Anstey deliveredhis brief introductory speech--
"My lord and gentlemen of the jury, I shall not occupy the time of theCourt with unnecessary appeals at this stage, but shall proceed to takethe evidence of my witnesses without delay."
There was a pause of a minute or more, during which the silence wasbroken only by the rustle of papers and the squeaking of the judge'squill pen. Juliet turned a white, scared face to me and said in a hushedwhisper--
"This is terrible. That last man's evidence is perfectly crushing. Whatcan possibly be said in reply? I am in despair; oh! poor Reuben! He islost, Dr. Jervis! He hasn't a chance now."
"Do you believe that he is guilty?" I asked.
"Certainly not!" she replied indignantly. "I am as certain of hisinnocence as ever."
"Then," said I, "if he is innocent, there must be some means of provinghis innocence."
"Yes. I suppose so," she rejoined in a dejected whisper. "At any rate weshall soon know now."
At this moment the usher's voice was heard calling out the name of thefirst witness for the defence.
"Edmund Horford Rowe!"
A keen-looking, grey-haired man, with a shaven face and close-cutside-whiskers, stepped into the box and was sworn in due form.
"You are a doctor of medicine, I believe," said Anstey, addressing thewitness, "and lecturer on Medical Jurisprudence at the South LondonHospital?"
"I am."
"Have you had occasion to study the properties of blood?"
"Yes. The properties of blood are of great importance from amedico-legal point of view."
"Can you tell us what happens when a drop of blood--say from a cutfinger--falls upon a surface such as the bottom of an iron safe?"
"A drop of blood from a living body falling upon any non-absorbentsurface will, in the course of a few minutes, solidify into a jellywhich will, at first, have the same bulk and colour as the liquidblood."
"Will it undergo any further change?"
"Yes. In a few minutes more the jelly will begin to shrink and becomemore solid so that the blood will become separated into two parts, thesolid and the liquid. The solid part will consist of a firm, tough jellyof a deep red colour, and the liquid part will consist of a pale yellow,clear, watery liquid."
"At the end, say, of two hours, what will be the condition of the dropof blood?"
"It will consist of a drop of clear, nearly colourless liquid, in themiddle of which will be a small, tough, red clot."
"Supposing such a drop to be taken up on a piece of white paper, whatwould be its appearance?"
"The paper would be wetted by the colourless liquid, and the solid clotwould probably adhere to the paper in a mass."
"Would the blood on the paper appear as a clear, red liquid?"
"Certainly not. The liquid would appear like water, and the clot wouldappear as a solid mass sticking to the paper."
"Does blood always behave in the way you have described?"
"Always, unless some artificial means are taken to prevent it fromclotting."
"By what means can blood be prevented from clotting or solidifying?"
"There are two principal methods. One is to stir or whip the fresh bloodrapidly with a bundle of fine twigs. When this is done, the fibrin--thepart of the blood that causes solidification--adheres to the twigs, andthe blood that remains, though it is unchanged in appearance, willremain liquid for an indefinite time. The other method is to dissolve acertain proportion of some alkaline salt in the fresh blood, after whichit no longer has any tendency to solidify."
"You have heard the evidence of Inspector Sanderson and Sergeant Bates?"
"Yes."
"Inspector Sanderson has told us that he examined the safe at 10.31 a.m.and found two good-sized drops of blood on the bottom. Sergeant Bateshas told us that he examined the safe two hours later, and that he tookup one of the drops of blood on a piece of white paper. The blood wasthen quite liquid, and, on the paper, it looked like a clear, red liquidof the colour of blood. What should you consider the condition andnature of that blood to have been?"
"If it was really blood at all, I should say that it was eitherdefibrinated blood--that is, blood from which the fibrin has beenextracted by whipping--or that it had been treated with an alkalinesalt."
"You are of opinion that the blood found in the safe could not have beenordinary blood shed from a cut or wound?"
"I am sure it could not have been."
"Now, Dr. Rowe, I am going to ask you a few questions on anothersubject. Have you given any attention to finger-prints made by bloodyfingers?"
"Yes. I have recently made some experiments on the subject."
"Will you give us the results of those experiments?"
"My object was to ascertain whether fingers wet with fresh blood wouldyield distinct and characteristic prints. I made a great number oftrials, and as a result found that it is extremely difficult to obtain aclear print when the finger is wetted with fresh blood. The usual resultis a mere red blot showing no ridge pattern at all, owing to the bloodfilling the furrows between the ridges. But if the blood is allowed todry almost completely on the finger, a very clear print is obtained."
"Is it possible to recognise a print that has been made by a nearly dryfinger?"
"Yes; quite easily. The half-dried blood is nearly solid and adheres tothe paper in a different way from the liquid, and it shows minutedetails, such as the mouths of the sweat glands, which are alwaysobliterated by the liquid."
"Look carefully at this paper, which was found in the safe, and tell mewhat you see."
The witness took the paper and examined it attentively, first with thenaked eye and then with a pocket-lens.
"I see," said he, "two blood-marks and a print, apparently of a thumb.Of the two marks, one is a blot, smeared slightly by a finger or thumb;the other is a smear only. Both were evidently produced with quiteliquid blood. The thumb-print was also made with liquid blood."
"You are quite sure that the thumb-print was made with liquid blood?"
"Quite sure."
"Is there anything unusual about the thumb-print?"
"Yes. It is extraordinarily clear and distinct. I have made a greatnumber of trials and have endeavoured to obtain the clearest printspossible with fresh blood; but none of my prints are nearly as distinctas this one."
Here the witness produced a number of sheets of paper, each of which wascovered with the prints of bloody fingers, and compared them with thememorandum slip.
The papers were handed to the judge for his inspection, and Anstey satdown, when Sir Hector Trumpler rose, with a somewhat puzzled expressionon his face, to cross-examine.
"You say that the blood found in the safe was defibrinated orartificially treated. What inference do you draw from that fact?"
"I infer that it was not dropped from a bleeding wound."
"Can you form any idea how such blood should have got into the safe?"
"None whatever."
"You say that the thumb-print is a remarkably distinct one. Whatconclusion do you draw from that?"
"I do not draw an
y conclusion. I cannot account for its distinctness atall."
The learned counsel sat down with rather a baffled air, and I observed afaint smile spread over the countenance of my colleague.
"Arabella Hornby."
A muffled whimpering from my neighbour on the left hand was accompaniedby a wild rustling of silk. Glancing at Mrs. Hornby, I saw her staggerfrom the bench, shaking like a jelly, mopping her eyes with herhandkerchief and grasping her open purse. She entered the witness-box,and, having gazed wildly round the court, began to search themultitudinous compartments of her purse.
"The evidence you shall give," sang out the usher--whereat Mrs. Hornbypaused in her search and stared at him apprehensively--"to the court andjury sworn, between our Sovereign Lord the King and the prisoner at thebar shall be the truth,--"
"Certainly," said Mrs. Hornby stiffly, "I--"
"--the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; so help you God!"
He held out the Testament, which she took from him with a trembling handand forthwith dropped with a resounding bang on to the floor of thewitness-box, diving after it with such precipitancy that her bonnetjammed violently against the rail of the box.
She disappeared from view for a moment, and then rose from the depthswith a purple face and her bonnet flattened and cocked over one ear likean artillery-man's forage cap.
"Kiss the Book, if you please," said the usher, suppressing a grin by anheroic effort, as Mrs. Hornby, encumbered by her purse, her handkerchiefand the Testament, struggled to unfasten her bonnet-strings. She clawedfrantically at her bonnet, and, having dusted the Testament with herhandkerchief, kissed it tenderly and laid it on the rail of the box,whence it fell instantly on to the floor of the court.
"I am really very sorry!" exclaimed Mrs. Hornby, leaning over the railto address the usher as he stooped to pick up the Book, and dischargingon to his back a stream of coins, buttons and folded bills from her openpurse; "you will think me very awkward, I'm afraid."
She mopped her face and replaced her bonnet rakishly on one side, asAnstey rose and passed a small red book across to her.
"Kindly look at that book, Mrs. Hornby."
"I'd rather not," said she, with a gesture of repugnance. "It isassociated with matters of so extremely disagreeable a character--"
"Do you recognise it?"
"Do I recognise it! How can you ask me such a question when you mustknow--"
"Answer the question," interposed the judge. "Do you or do you notrecognise the book in your hand?"
"Of course I recognise it. How could I fail to--"
"Then say so," said the judge.
"I have said so," retorted Mrs. Hornby indignantly.
The judge nodded to Anstey, who then continued--"It is called a'Thumbograph,' I believe."
"Yes: the name 'Thumbograph' is printed on the cover, so I suppose thatis what it is called."
"Will you tell us, Mrs. Hornby, how the 'Thumbograph' came into yourpossession?"
For one moment Mrs. Hornby stared wildly at her interrogator; then shesnatched a paper from her purse, unfolded it, gazed at it with anexpression of dismay, and crumpled it up in the palm of her hand.
"You are asked a question," said the judge.
"Oh! yes," said Mrs. Hornby. "The Committee of the Society--no, that isthe wrong one--I mean Walter, you know--at least--"
"I beg your pardon," said Anstey, with polite gravity.
"You were speaking of the committee of some society," interposed thejudge. "What society were you referring to?"
Mrs. Hornby spread out the paper and, after a glance at it, replied--
"The Society of Paralysed Idiots, your worship," whereat a rumble ofsuppressed laughter arose from the gallery.
"But what has that society to do with the 'Thumbograph'?" inquired thejudge.
"Nothing, your worship. Nothing at all."
"Then why did you refer to it?"
"I am sure I don't know," said Mrs. Hornby, wiping her eyes with thepaper and then hastily exchanging it for her handkerchief.
The judge took off his glasses and gazed at Mrs. Hornby with anexpression of bewilderment. Then he turned to the counsel and said in aweary voice--"Proceed, if you please, Mr. Anstey."
"Can you tell us, Mrs. Hornby, how the 'Thumbograph' came into yourpossession?" said the latter in persuasive accents.
"I thought it was Walter, and so did my niece, but Walter says it wasnot, and he ought to know, being young and having a most excellentmemory, as I had myself when I was his age, and really, you know, itcan't possibly matter where I got the thing--"
"But it does matter," interrupted Anstey. "We wish particularly toknow."
"If you mean that you wish to get one like it--"
"We do not," said Anstey. "We wish to know how that particular'Thumbograph' came into your possession. Did you, for instance, buy ityourself, or was it given to you by someone?"
"Walter says I bought it myself, but I thought he gave it to me, but hesays he did not, and you see--"
"Never mind what Walter says. What is your own impression?"
"Why I still think that he gave it to me, though, of course, seeing thatmy memory is not what it was--"
"You think that Walter gave it to you?"
"Yes, in fact I feel sure he did, and so does my niece."
"Walter is your nephew, Walter Hornby?"
"Yes, of course. I thought you knew."
"Can you recall the occasion on which the 'Thumbograph' was given toyou?"
"Oh yes, quite distinctly. We had some people to dinner--some peoplenamed Colley--not the Dorsetshire Colleys, you know, although they areexceedingly nice people, as I have no doubt the other Colleys are, too,when you know them, but we don't. Well, after dinner we were a littledull and rather at a loss, because Juliet, my niece, you know, had cuther finger and couldn't play the piano excepting with the left hand, andthat is so monotonous as well as fatiguing, and the Colleys are notmusical, excepting Adolphus, who plays the trombone, but he hadn't gotit with him, and then, fortunately, Walter came in and brought the'Thumbograph' and took all our thumb-prints and his own as well, and wewere very much amused, and Matilda Colley--that is the eldest daughterbut one--said that Reuben jogged her elbow, but that was only anexcuse--"
"Exactly," interrupted Anstey. "And you recollect quite clearly thatyour nephew Walter gave you the 'Thumbograph' on that occasion?"
"Oh, distinctly; though, you know, he is really my husband's nephew--"
"Yes. And you are sure that he took the thumb-prints?"
"Quite sure."
"And you are sure that you never saw the 'Thumbograph' before that?"
"Never. How could I? He hadn't brought it."
"Have you ever lent the 'Thumbograph' to anyone?"
"No, never. No one has ever wanted to borrow it, because, you see--"
"Has it never, at any time, gone out of your possession?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that; in fact, I have often thought, though I hatesuspecting people, and I really don't suspect anybody in particular, youknow, but it certainly was very peculiar and I can't explain it in anyother way. You see, I kept the 'Thumbograph' in a drawer in my writingtable, and in the same drawer I used to keep my handkerchief-bag--infact I do still, and it is there at this very moment, for in my hurryand agitation, I forgot about it until we were in the cab, and then itwas too late, because Mr. Lawley--"
"Yes. You kept it in a drawer with your handkerchief-bag."
"That was what I said. Well, when Mr. Hornby was staying at Brighton hewrote to ask me to go down for a week and bring Juliet--Miss Gibson, youknow--with me. So we went, and, just as we were starting, I sent Julietto fetch my handkerchief-bag from the drawer, and I said to her,'Perhaps we might take the thumb-book with us; it might come in usefulon a wet day.' So she went, and presently she came back and said thatthe 'Thumbograph' was not in the drawer. Well, I was so surprised that Iwent back with her and looked myself, and sure enough the drawer wasempty. Well, I didn't think mu
ch of it at the time, but when we camehome again, as soon as we got out of the cab, I gave Juliet myhandkerchief-bag to put away, and presently she came running to me in agreat state of excitement. 'Why, Auntie,' she said,' the "Thumbograph"is in the drawer; somebody must have been meddling with your writingtable.' I went with her to the drawer, and there, sure enough, was the'Thumbograph.' Somebody must have taken it out and put it back while wewere away."
"Who could have had access to your writing table?"
"Oh, anybody, because, you see, the drawers were never locked. Wethought it must have been one of the servants."
"Had anyone been to the house during your absence?"
"No. Nobody, except, of course, my two nephews; and neither of them hadtouched it, because we asked them, and they both said they had not."
"Thank you." Anstey sat down, and Mrs. Hornby having given anothercorrecting twist to her bonnet, was about to step down from the box whenSir Hector rose and bestowed upon her an intimidating stare.
"You made some reference," said he, "to a society--the Society ofParalysed Idiots, I think, whatever that may be. Now what caused you tomake that reference?"
"It was a mistake; I was thinking of something else."
"I know it was a mistake. You referred to a paper that was in yourhand."
"I did not refer to it, I merely looked at it. It is a letter from theSociety of Paralysed Idiots. It is nothing to do with me really, youknow; I don't belong to the society, or anything of that sort."
"Did you mistake that paper for some other paper?"
"Yes, I took it for a paper with some notes on it to assist my memory."
"What kind of notes?"
"Oh, just the questions I was likely to be asked."
"Were the answers that you were to give to those questions also writtenon the paper?"
"Of course they were. The questions would not have been any use withoutthe answers."
"Have you been asked the questions that were written on the paper?"
"Yes; at least, some of them."
"Have you given the answers that were written down?"
"I don't think I have--in fact, I am sure I haven't, because, you see--"
"Ah! you don't think you have." Sir Hector Trumpler smiled significantlyat the jury, and continued--
"Now who wrote down those questions and answers?"
"My nephew, Walter Hornby. He thought, you know--"
"Never mind what he thought. Who advised or instructed him to write themdown?"
"Nobody. It was entirely his own idea, and very thoughtful of him, too,though Dr. Jervis took the paper away from me and said I must rely on mymemory."
Sir Hector was evidently rather taken aback by this answer, and sat downsuddenly, with a distinctly chapfallen air.
"Where is this paper on which the questions and answers are written?"asked the judge. In anticipation of this inquiry I had already handed itto Thorndyke, and had noted by the significant glance that he bestowedon me that he had not failed to observe the peculiarity in the type.Indeed the matter was presently put beyond all doubt, for he hastilypassed to me a scrap of paper, on which I found, when I opened it out,that he had written "X = W.H."
As Anstey handed the rather questionable document up to the judge, Iglanced at Walter Hornby and observed him to flush angrily, though hestrove to appear calm and unconcerned, and the look that he directed athis aunt was very much the reverse of benevolent.
"Is this the paper?" asked the judge, passing it down to the witness.
"Yes, your worship," answered Mrs. Hornby, in a tremulous voice;whereupon the document was returned to the judge, who proceeded tocompare it with his notes.
"I shall order this document to be impounded," said he sternly, aftermaking a brief comparison. "There has been a distinct attempt to tamperwith witnesses. Proceed with your case, Mr. Anstey."
There was a brief pause, during which Mrs. Hornby tottered across thecourt and resumed her seat, gasping with excitement and relief; then theusher called out--
"John Evelyn Thorndyke!"
"Thank God!" exclaimed Juliet, clasping her hands. "Oh! will he be ableto save Reuben? Do you think he will, Dr. Jervis?"
"There is someone who thinks he will," I replied, glancing towardsPolton, who, clasping in his arms the mysterious box and holding on tothe microscope case, gazed at his master with a smile of ecstasy."Polton has more faith than you have, Miss Gibson."
"Yes, the dear, faithful little man!" she rejoined. "Well, we shall knowthe worst very soon now, at any rate."
"The worst or the best," I said. "We are now going to hear what thedefence really is."
"God grant that it may be a good defence," she exclaimed in a low voice;and I--though not ordinarily a religious man--murmured "Amen!"