Free Death Has Deep Roots by Michael Gilbert Page A

proceedings. Apart from the guests there was the permanent staff of the hotel. This was not large. Monsieur Sainte himself ran the business and acted as manager. The prisoner, Mademoiselle Lamartine, was employed as receptionist and hotel assistant – that is to say she worked in and about the residential and sleeping part of the hotel, but was not called upon to do any waiting at table – that was done by a waitress who, like the cook, came daily and slept out. Neither the cook nor the waitress was in the hotel at the time of the murder, and we shall not be troubling you with their testimony. Finally, there was the night – waiter, porter and general factotum, Ercolo Camino, whom you will hear, since his evidence, though indirect, is of great corroborative importance at a number of points.
    “That was the stage on which this drama was enacted. This was the cast. I will now run briefly through the course of events, reminding you first that the facts which I shall set out are not simply my version or my opinion of what happened. They will be supported in every material particular by the evidence of witnesses who will be called before you at a later stage in the proceedings. If I make any statement which is not so supported I feel confident that eminent counsel for the defence will be the first to draw your attention to my oversight.”
    Mr. Summers inclined his head graciously toward Mr. Macrea, who remained, however, unmoved.
    ‘The events of the evening, so far as they are material, start with the arrival at the hotel of Major Thoseby at about half-past eight. He had reserved a room by telephone. He had explained that he was busy at the War Office, attending a conference, and that he did not know when he would reach the hotel. He might be in time for dinner, or he might not be there until ten, or even eleven o’clock. He did not know. In fact, he arrived in time for a late dinner. After dinner, he had, as you will hear, a few words with Monsieur Sainte, in his office, and then retired to his room saying that he had a lot of writing work to get through, notes on the conference he had been attending, and so on.
    “His reason for coming to the hotel is known. It is not, in fact, in dispute. He had come to see the prisoner.”
    Mr. Summers, for the first time, allowed his eyes to rest for a second on the figure in the dock.
    “He had come at the prisoner’s own earnest solicitation. The prisoner – and again this is not disputed – had for more than three years been trying to arrange an occasion to meet Major Thoseby. Her long search had been successful a few weeks prior to these happenings. She had got into touch with him through the good offices of a French organisation known as the Society of Lorraine. She had renewed her pressure on Major Thoseby to come and see her. He had at last consented to do so. It was his suggestion that he should stay for that one night at the hotel. He explained, in conversation with Monsieur Sainte, that his time was limited. He was in London on a visit of five or six days from Germany and much of his time was necessarily taken up with official business. He suggested, therefore, that he should book a room for that one night and could then, conveniently, have his discussion with Mademoiselle Lamartine either that evening, when he arrived, or, if he should arrive too late, then on the following morning. That was the arrangement, duly explained by Monsieur Sainte to the prisoner.
    “This brings us to the first question on which there is a conflict of evidence.
    “Why was the prisoner not there to meet Major Thoseby when he arrived? She was eagerly anxious for the meeting. She had made long, persistent and, at last, successful attempts to bring it about. Yet, when Major Thoseby did arrive she was out.
    “I draw your attention to the point because you may think it significant. On the other hand, you may just think that it is one of those occasions on which real life is not quite so tidy as