Free The Lake District Murder (British Library Crime Classics) by John Bude Page A

There he spent the afternoon making a methodical examination of every exhibit connected with the crime. He tested the nine-foot length of hose-pipe and the fish-tail end of the exhaust for finger-prints, also the mackintosh which had been placed over Clayton’s head. But, as he had expected, without result. The modern criminal, profiting by the bitter experience of his predecessors, has a penchant for rubber-gloves when engaged in any nefarious business! But Meredith was leaving nothing to chance. He even re-examined every article which he had taken from the pockets of the dead man. But again his efforts proved fruitless, and at six o’clock he returned home a trifle depressed.
    On Wednesday, after a morning’s routine work, he lunched at Greystoke Road and hurried off to join the Superintendent in the crowded little court-room. Punctually at two-thirty the Coroner took his place at the head of the long table and, after the jury had been sworn in, the inquest began.
    From beginning to end the proceedings followed a course which Meredith had anticipated. Mark Higgins identified the body. Luke Perryman, very stiff and formal in his black Sabbath suit, described how he had discovered the dead body of Clayton in the car. Meredith then explained how Perryman had driven, at once, to the police station and how he had returned with a witness to the scene of the tragedy. He then endorsed the farmer’s statement as to the position of the body and enlarged on the apparatus by which the deceased had evidently met his death.
    So far it was all stale news to the public, but then came the doctor’s evidence.
    “The cause of death, you say, was asphyxia due to the inhalation of carbon monoxide gas?” observed the Coroner. “From your examination of the body, did you infer that the deceased had put an end to his own life, Dr. Burney?”
    “That certainly was my first impression.”
    “What do you mean by your ‘first’ impression? Had you any reason later on to alter your opinion as to the cause of death?”
    “Not entirely. But I was asked, in conjunction with Dr. White here, to make an autopsy. It appears that the police were dissatisfied with the results of the external examination.”
    For the first time a shiver of anticipation ran over the crowd.
    “But why were the police dissatisfied?” asked the Coroner, glaring with a puzzled expression through his horn-rimmed glasses. Inspector Meredith got quickly to his feet. “Well, Inspector?”
    “I think I can explain that point, sir.”
    In a few words Meredith set out his evidence about the waiting meal, the melted kettle, the burning light and the unexpectedly clean hands of the deceased. He also stressed the entire absence of motive for suicide, making mention of Clayton’s plans for the future, the fact that he was about to be married and his entire freedom from financial straits.
    “With this evidence to hand, sir, we felt justified in demanding a post mortem .”
    “I see,” mused the Coroner. “Very well, Inspector. You may stand down.” He turned to the Doctor. “Now, Doctor Burney, will you be good enough to let us know the result of this autopsy?”
    “Certainly. We found thirty grains of trional in the stomach and intestines.”
    The sensation in the court-room was profound. Although most of the audience hadn’t the slightest idea as to the nature of trional, they judged that the proceedings were about to take an unexpected and exciting twist. The Coroner had to rap once or twice with his gavel before silence could be restored.
    “And what did that suggest to you, Doctor?”
    “It pointed to the fact that the deceased had been drugged and, according to our findings, only a short time before the tragedy was discovered.”
    “Would there be any point in the deceased taking the drug himself?”
    “None, as far as I can see. He had to seat himself in the car and start up the engine before the drug took effect. He had also to place the mackintosh over his