Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(113)

“Which of you is the representative from Home Office?”

A thin man with a bristly moustache rose and gave a slight bow. “I am, your lordship.”

“I note His Royal Highness has an emissary here, as well. That is most unusual.”

Another man rose. “It is His Royal Highness’ opinion that this is a most unusual case, your lordship.”

“So it appears.” Coleridge studied the list for a bit longer. “Chief Inspector Fisher and Inspector Ramsey?”

“Just here, your lordship,” Fisher replied.

“Mr. Kingsbury?”

The junior barrister stood. “Chief Justice. Lord Wescomb asked me to send his regrets. The events at Newgate this morning have compromised his recovery and he has returned to his bed.”

“I’m truly sorry to hear that,” the man replied, setting the list aside. “I see the Crown Prosecutor is here, as well. Excellent. We shall proceed.”

There was a tap at the door and a clerk hurried in. He bent close to Fisher and handed him an envelope. The chief inspector ripped it open.

Is there no bottom to this dark pit?

He handed it to his subordinate.

As Ramsey read the contents, his hands began a fine tremor. “My God…” he whispered.

Before Fisher could reply, Coleridge began. “Mr. Kingsbury, state your position as clearly and succinctly as possible.”

The junior barrister rose. “Thank you, Chief Justice. We have secured a stay of execution based on compelling new evidence that proves Sergeant Keats is innocent of the murder of Nicola Hallcox.”

“What is the nature of this evidence?”

“Two Fenians have come forward, my lord, and have sworn that they were present with Sergeant Keats in Whitechapel during the time that Miss Hallcox met her end. Mr. Paddy O’Donnell is willing to testify that he struck the sergeant, placed him inside a coffin, and transported him out of the city. The other witness, Mr. Desmond Flaherty, has signed a statement indicating his presence with the sergeant that very evening.”



The Lord Chief Justice leaned forward in his chair. “Fenians? Consider me stunned, sir.”

“As was I, your lordship,” Kingsbury said. “It was most unexpected.”

Justice Hawkins sighed. “I should be surprised at nothing when it comes to this case.”

“In addition, my Lord Chief Justice, we have a witness who has testified that she saw the sergeant in Whitechapel at forty past ten that evening. She stated he was walking on the very street that would lead to his confrontation with the Fenians.”

“Why did this witness not come forward earlier?” Coleridge asked, frowning.

“She was concerned about her safety, my lord. She is Irish, you see, and did not wish to incur the wrath of the anarchists.” Kingsbury shuffled the papers in his hand. “As for physical evidence, Inspector Ramsey has located the coffin. There are marks on the lid that match perfectly the sole of one of the sergeant’s boots. In addition, Inspector Ramsey has obtained the sergeant’s notebook, which was found in the alley where Keats said he was set upon by the Fenians.”

“Who found the notebook in the first place?” Coleridge asked.

Kingsbury looked toward Ramsey, who rose.

“Inspector Hulme passed it onto me, my lord,” Ramsey said.

“When?”

“Just this morning.”

Coleridge sported a frown. “How long has it been in his possession?”

“Since the twenty-sixth of October.”

“Good heavens. Why did he not enter it into evidence at the trial?” Coleridge’s frown deepened. “We must have this man explain why he did not do his duty.”



Fisher rose. “That will not be possible, my lord.” He indicated the message he’d received. “I have been informed that Inspector Hulme was found dead of a gunshot wound about an hour ago, in his rooms. It is surmised that he took his own life.”

Coleridge sank back in his chair. “This has to be the most remarkable case I have seen in all my years in Her Majesty’s service.” He eyed Arnett. “What has the Crown to say of this new evidence?”

“I am taken aback at the news of the inspector’s death, my lord. I was not aware that he held the prisoner’s notebook in his possession, and can give no possible reason why he would have done so.” He turned toward Fisher. “As to the Fenians and this new witness, what manner of compensation have these people been promised for their testimony?”

“None,” the chief inspector replied.

Arnett huffed. “I find that unlikely given Flaherty’s animosity for the constabulary.”

Before Fisher could reply, Kingsbury interjected, “Well, there was one offer, if you may call it that.”

Arnett pounced. “What was it?”

“Lord Wescomb has offered to represent Mr. O’Donnell when he comes to trial,” Kingsbury replied innocently.

Arnett scowled.

“With no disrespect meant to his lordship, that is hardly an incentive to offer testimony in this case,” Coleridge replied.

The Chief Justice swiveled toward the Home Office representative. “I must put a question for you, sir. Where I understand the need not to ruin the reputations of the men who unwisely availed themselves of the victim’s services, I do not comprehend the other interdiction. Why did you enjoin both the defence and prosecution from speaking of the stolen explosives?”