The Jury (19 page)

LEONARD BOLTON, examined for the Crown by MR GREGORY TUFNELL.—I am a detective-sergeant. On October the 31st I was at Southampton in pursuance of duties that have nothing to do with this case. In consequence of certain information received by telephone I proceeded to a point a few yards distant from the Zenith Hotel. There I met, by appointment, the person who had laid the information. It was then five minutes past nine.

Do you know the name of that person?—The name given was Ernest Nix.

Did you have some conversation with Nix?—Yes.

I must not ask you what he said, but I will ask you what happened then.—After we had been waiting about half an hour, a porter came out of the hotel with a suitcase in each hand. He hailed a taxi, which pulled up. He put the luggage into the taxi, and stood holding the door open while a man and woman came out of the hotel and crossed the pavement to the taxi. The woman got in, and the man said something to the taxi-driver.

Is this man you speak of in court at the present moment?— Yes.

You recognize him?—Yes.

So that there may be no doubt in the matter, will you tell us which among those present you recognize as the man you are now speaking of?—I identify him as the prisoner at the bar.

You have told us that you saw Strood speaking to the taxi-driver. Did you hear what he said?—Yes. He said: “The docks. The
Mercatoria.”

Did you then accost him?—Yes. I accosted him and said: “I believe you are Mr Roderick William Strood?”

What did he answer?—He said: “My name is Williams. What can I do for you?”

And you then said?—I said: “Are you not Mr Roderick William Strood, of Merrion Square, London?” He answered: “Well, suppose I am? I'm afraid I don't remember you.” I
said: “Are you by any chance sailing tonight on the
Mercatoria?”
He answered: “Yes. What do you want? I'm in a hurry.” I said: “I'm afraid you'll have to put it off. I have very serious news for you.” He answered: “Serious news? Is it about my wife?” At this point in the conversation he became agitated and began stammering.

And what then?—I told him that Mrs Roderick Strood was dead and that an inquest had been ordered.

Now what did Strood say when you told him that his wife was dead?—He said: “My God! I killed her!”

The words were: “My God! I killed her!” You are sure of that?—Yes.

Was that one speech or two? I mean did he say “My God, I killed her!” in one breath, as it were?—No. He first said: “My God!” Then after a pause he added: “I killed her”.

What did you say then?—I said: “I know nothing about that, Mr Strood. But I think you'd better come back to London, don't you?” He answered: “It's impossible. Was it the sleeping-draught? She's dead, you say?” I answered: “Of course you will have to attend the inquest.” He said: “Very good. When is the next train?”

Did the woman, his companion, take any part in this conversation?—No.

Was she still in the taxi?—No. She remained in the taxi for a few moments, but while we were talking she got out.

Did she make any remark?—She said something to the prisoner in a foreign language.

Do you know what language?—It sounded like German. I did not understand what was said, but I got the impression it was German.

Did the prisoner answer her?—Yes.

Also in German, or in something that you thought was German?—Yes.

You did not understand the actual words, but did you get any impression of the general character of the conversation: whether, for example, it was friendly or angry?—I wouldn't say angry. But it was some kind of dispute, I thought. The prisoner was very agitated.

And the woman?—She spoke quietly, with her hand on his arm.

After that conversation between them, what happened?—She said slowly, in English: “We have here the automobile. We will go to the railway station, both. It is very simple.” From then on she seemed to take charge of the prisoner. I asked if I might be allowed to share the taxi and she made no objection. We all got into the taxi and were driven to the station. The prisoner seemed dazed. He made no remark except to ask me who I was. When I told him that I was a police officer he made no answer.

Cross-examined for the Defence by MR ANTONY HARCOMBE, KC: When you said to the prisoner “I believe you are Mr Roderick William Strood”, he did not deny knowledge of the name?—He said: “My name is Williams.”

Yes, I heard you say so in answer to my learned friend. I am now asking you, did he deny knowledge of the name Roderick William Strood?—No.

And he did not, in set terms, deny that he
was
Roderick William Strood?—Not in set terms.

Then the answer is No?—The answer is No.

Do you agree that it would be fair to put it like this: that so soon as he realized that your business was serious he admitted his identity?—No.

Are you telling us that he did not admit his identity?—He was evasive.

The words you gave us are these: “Well, suppose I am?” Is not that an admission?—I should have called it a supposition.

A supposition in form, but an admission in effect?—A sort of admission.

In fact, an admission?—Yes.

Now you have told my learned friend that on hearing that the news you were bringing to him concerned his wife, the prisoner became agitated and began stammering?—

ATTORNEY-GENERAL
[intervening]
: My learned friend is mistaken. According to the answers given by this witness to my learned junior, the prisoner anticipated the witness's news by asking: “Is it about my wife?”

MR HARCOMBE: I apologize to my learned friend, and stand corrected.
[Continuing cross-examination]
You have told us, however, that the prisoner became agitated and began stammering?—Yes.

By the word 'stammering' you mean that he was having difficulty with his speech?—I mean stammering.

What was he trying to say when he was stammering? Have you any idea?—No.

You were listening carefully?—Yes.

Yet you have no idea. How is that?—Because he was stammering. His words were not clear.

His words were not clear? You mean that he couldn't get them out properly?—Yes.

His words were impeded by stammering?—Some of his words.

Now when you told him that his wife was dead his agitation increased, did it not?—Yes.

And he said, according to you: “My God! I killed her.”—Yes.

You are quite sure of those words?—Yes.

You can swear not only to the substance of what he said, but to his actual words?—Yes.

I think you said a moment ago that his words were not clear, that he was stammering?—That was before.

Before what?—Before I told him that his wife was dead.

But the news of his wife's death increased his agitation. That is what you told us just now?—Yes.

Do you now say that after receiving that news he ceased stammering?—He wasn't stammering when he said those particular words.

In fact he had ceased stammering?—Yes.

The man is already agitated. You have told us so. The news of his wife's death increases that agitation. You have told us that too, haven't you?—Yes.

That news at once increases his agitation and gives a crystal clarity to his speech. Is that what you are telling my lord and the jury?—(No answer.)

In your experience, is that the usual effect of agitation?—No.

Are you still convinced that you have made no mistake as to the prisoner's words?—Yes.

Not so much as a syllable?—No.

I am going to put it to you that what the prisoner did in fact say was not “My God—I killed her!” but (listen carefully)

“My God—so I've killed her!” Would you agree to that?—No.

You carried the words in your memory?—I committed them to paper.

How soon after the conversation in question did you make notes of it?—Some five or six minutes afterwards.

Why not at once?—I had no opportunity and I did not wish to alarm the prisoner.

You will remember that a moment ago I suggested another form of words that the prisoner might have used?—Yes.

It was nothing like so long as five minutes ago?—No.

Here is pencil and paper. Kindly write down that alternative form of words, to the best of your recollection.

[The witness having complied, the paper was handed to the Judge.]

MR JUSTICE SARUM: The witness has written: ‘My God—so I killed her.' I find that this differs in one detail from the words used by learned counsel: 'I killed' instead of 'I've killed.'

MR HARCOMBE
[continuing cross-examination]:
You see how easy it is for even an experienced officer to make a mistake?— If you call that a mistake.

You don't deny it was a mistake?—It's not material.

MR JUSTICE SARUM: That is an improper observation, which I am surprised to hear from a witness of your experience. You must confine yourself to answering the questions.

MR HARCOMBE: You have told my learned friend that on your telling Strood that he would have to attend the inquest, he said: “Very good. When is the next train?” Have I got you right?—Yes.

Does the expression 'Very good' seem to you the kind of expression the prisoner would use?—Yes.

If I suggested to you that he said 'Very well', what would you say?—I have ‘Very good' in my notes.

And your notes are infallible?—They are accurate.

Perhaps you can see no difference between 'Very good' and 'Very well'?—They are different words.

But no other difference? No difference in tone?—Well, they mean the same thing.

So that it wouldn't really matter which way you put it in your notes?—No.

The remarks that you have told us he made to you were made before he had any reason to suppose that you were a police officer?—Yes.

You did not think it necessary to warn him that his words might be used?—No. As I was not arresting him, I did not think it necessary.

Re-examined for the Crown by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL: You are accustomed to taking notes of conversations?—Yes.

Have you had long experience in that kind of work?—Yes.

About how long?—About twelve years.

In the Force of which you are a member have you a reputation for accuracy?—Yes.

Have you often had to give evidence in criminal cases?—Yes.

Even in cases involving a capital charge?—Several times.

Have you always given your evidence in a manner that satisfied the Court, so far as you are aware?—Yes.

Have you ever been commended on the way your evidence was given?—Many times.

Until you met the prisoner at Southampton on October the 31st had you ever set eyes on him, so far as you know?—No.

Nor heard of him?—I didn't know of his existence.

Had you then, or have you now, any reason to wish harm to the prisoner?—Certainly not.

You are here solely as a matter of duty, and in the interests of justice?—Yes.

In view of the questions put to you by my learned friend, do you wish to modify any of the answers you gave to Mr Tufnell during examination?—No.

Let me see if I have got everything clear. When you addressed the prisoner as Mr Roderick William Strood, he said: “My name is Williams”?—Yes.

When you said you had serious news for him he said: “Is it about my wife”?—Yes.

That was before you yourself had mentioned his wife?—Yes.

When you told him Mrs Strood was dead, he said: “My God! I killed her!”?—Yes.

ERNEST NIX, examined for the Crown by MR TUFNELL: I am a professional detective. I am employed by a private detective agency. I have no connexion with the police. On October the 20th I received instructions to keep a certain gentleman under observation and to report his movements.

What was the name of this gentleman?—Roderick Strood, of Merrion Square, London.

Is he in court?—Yes.

Do you recognize him?—I recognize him as the prisoner.

From whom were your instructions received?—From Mrs Strood.

MR HARCOMBE: My lord, I object to this witness.

MR JUSTICE SARUM: On what grounds, Mr Harcombe?

MR HARCOMBE: I submit that his evidence is inadmissible. My client is already labouring under a grave disability, in that matters having nothing to do with this case were advertised and misrepresented in another place and subsequently circulated throughout the country by the press.

MR JUSTICE SARUM: On the last point, I agree. I must warn you, members of the jury, that anything any of you may have heard or read about the prisoner outside this court is immaterial to the case now before you, and must be put out of your minds.

MR HARCOMBE: I am sure it is far from the wish or intention of my learned friend to import prejudice into this case; but that, I submit, will be the tendency and effect of the evidence he proposes to call.

Mr JUSTICE SARUM: Sir John, it is submitted by learned counsel for the defence that it is my duty to disallow the evidence of this witness. I shall be glad to hear your observations.

ATTORNEY-GENERAL: My lord, with great submission, this is an important and necessary witness for the Crown. His evidence bears directly on the issue.

MR JUSTICE SARUM: It will help me, in view of the objection
that has been raised, if I know upon what particular aspect of the case it bears.

ATTORNEY-GENERAL: My lord, on the question of motive in the first place. And, in the second place, on the behaviour of the prisoner on the night of the alleged crime. We—my learned junior and I—are very ready to meet my friend, and to pursue that particular question no further.

MR HARCOMBE: My objection is not to any such question in particular. I have no wish to make mystery about that question. My objection is to the importation of moral prejudice into this case.

MR JUSTICE SARUM: I will hear the evidence.