POWERS OF INVENTIVENESS.
Incidentally, during the trial, a remarkable sidelight was thrown on Ivy Matthew’s powers of invention, and her unscrupulousness in exercising them. The Crown Prosecutor cross-examined Mrs. Ross at some length as to a visit she is supposed to have paid to Ivy Matthews on February 6, in order to “beseech” her not to give evidence against her son. The passage is worth transcribing in full.
“Have you ever discussed anything with Ivy Matthews?” asked Mr. Macindoe, the Crown Prosecutor. “No,” was the answer, “I have only had one conversation with Ivy Matthews in my life,” and question and answer proceeded as follow:—
When was that?—That was the time of the shooting affair. That is some time back.
I am going to remind you of the 6th of February last?—I had no conversation with Ivy Matthews on February 6.
Do you know what day of the week it was?—No, I could not tell you.
Do you know where you were on February 6?—On February 6 I would be home. I have not been out of my home very much since this trouble has been on.
You have been into town since this trouble?—I have only been into town to see my son Colin.
Have you not seen Ivy Matthews since the inquest?—At the inquest, but not since the inquest.
Do you know where Rathdown Street is?—I know Rathdown Street.
Do you know where Mrs. Julia Gibson (Madame Ghurka) lives?—I do not.
No idea?—I have not the slightest idea where she lives.
Do you know where Ivy Matthews lives?—I do not.
Or was living in February?—I do not.
Did you not go to the house where Ivy Matthews was living in February of this year?—I did not.
You swear that?—I will swear it.
You know, of course, that Ivy Matthews had given evidence at the Morgue?—I did; at the Coroner’s inquiry, you mean?
Yes; and that she had given evidence against your son?—Yes; I know that.
Have you ever seen her and talked about that evidence?—I have never set eyes on Ivy Matthews since the day I saw her at the Coroner’s Court.
Do you say you did not go to the house in Rathdown Street, and were shown into the parlour by a maid on February 6, and that you asked for Ivy Matthews, and that Ivy Matthews came down to that parlour?—I did not; I can swear it.
And that you besought her not to give evidence?—No. I never did.
If you had done it would you say so?—I would. I had no reason to do so. Ivy Matthews is a woman I would not demean myself to talk to, let alone to plead to.
Why?—I talked to her once and once only, and that was quite sufficient for me.
Those who heard Mrs. Ross’s answers to the questions put to her, saw the look of mystification spreading over her face as they were developed, heard her solemn declaration that she had never even set eyes on Ivy Matthews since the day she saw her at the Coroner’s Court, heard her earnest, low-voiced assertion that “Ivy Matthews is a woman I would not demean myself to talk to, let alone to plead to,” could not, for a moment, doubt that she was speaking the truth. A somewhat similar line of cross-examination was pursued when Stanley and Ronald Ross were in the witness box, but in their case a different date was alleged. Stanley Ross was cross-examined on the point as follows:—
Do you remember, on February 3, the Friday night after the inquest, going to Rathdown Street, Carlton?—No.
Did you know where Ivy Matthews lived?—No.
Will you swear you did not know that Ivy Matthews lived in Rathdown Street?—I know she lived in Rathdown Street, but I could not take you to the place.
I did not ask you that, I asked you if you knew where she lived in Rathdown Street?—No.
Did you and your brother Ronald go to Madame Ghurka’s or Mrs. Gibson’s house on the night of February 3?—No.
Or at any time in February?—No.
I am going to put this to you that a maid-servant opened the door to you?—No.
And that you went in and brought Ivy Matthews to the gate to talk to your brother Ronald?—Never in my life; I could not tell you where Madame Ghurka, or Mrs. Gibson, lives.
So you say—and did you say to Ivy Matthews: “Are you going on with this?”—No.
Or did your brother?—No.
And when she said: “I am” did you then, or did your brother, say to her: “If you give evidence you will have your lights put out”?—No.
Or anything to that effect?—No.
Have you ever spoken to Ivy Matthews since last December?—Yes.
Where?—On the Thursday, January 5, that we were detained at the detective office.
Since then have you spoken to her?—No.
Never seen her?—No, only at the Morgue. I saw her at the inquest.
You did not speak to her there?—No.
When Ronald Ross was under cross-examination, he was questioned as to the same alleged interview. A woman was asked to stand up in Court, and he was asked if he knew her by sight. His answer was: “I never saw her in my life before.” He was then further interrogated.—
Did you go to Rathdown Street on February 3 last and see that young woman?—I never saw that woman in my life before.
Did you see Ivy Matthews on February 3?—I did not.
At Rathdown Street, Carlton?—No. I did not.
Did you and your brother go out there to see her?—No.
Were you together on that day?—We might have been.
Were you at Rathdown Street on that day?—I say I do not remember where I was.
You might have been?—Perhaps I might have been; on that particular day goodness knows where I might have been.
Did you go with your brother to a house where Ivy Matthews lives?—I did not.
Did your brother go to the front door and ask Ivy Matthews to come to the front gate?—I do not know.
In your presence?—He did not.
Did Ivy Matthews come to the front gate and did you tell her if she went on with this case she would have her lights put out?—No; I did not.
You would admit it if you had done it?—Yes; I am here to tell the truth.
One brother was out of Court while the other was giving his evidence. It was again perfectly clear that neither brother had the slightest knowledge of any such interview. It would have been competent for the Crown to have called evidence to prove this conversation if it had taken place, but no application was made to call the evidence.
There is an importance—indeed a tremendous importance—about this series of questions which, as they led to nothing, may not be appreciated by the layman. According to the rules of cross-examination, Counsel may not ask random questions. His questions must have a basis of knowledge, or at least of information, to rest upon. Before the Crown Prosecutor could ask these questions, he must have had information to the effect indicated by his cross-examination. It is impossible to conjecture anyone who was in a position to give such information but Ivy Matthews. If that be so, then Matthews absolutely invented the stories. There is not a scintilla of truth in either of them.
But in still another way Matthews’ story can be shown to be, if not false, at least highly improbable. She said that at 3 o’clock on the Friday she was standing at the door of the wine saloon, talking to Stanley Ross. “I was at the wine cafe door,” she said, “but not in the saloon.” She came to the door, she said, because Stanley beckoned her up from lower down the Arcade, where she was talking to a friend. Stanley, of course, denies this absolutely. But if it were true, then Stanley, in order to see her standing down the Arcade, must himself have been standing flush with the building line of the cafe, and could not have been in the recess by which the door is entered. When she came to Stanley, she said she saw Ross come out of the cubicle, and as he did so she saw the little girl sitting on a chair in it. When Ross got the drink and went back, she says he must have spoken to the girl because “she parted the curtains and looked straight out.”
Now if Ross had taken that little girl into the room, one would have thought that he would have been very anxious not to reveal her presence unnecessarily. According to Matthews, he seems to have been at pains to disclose it.
But if the plan of the saloon[4] (on page 68) is looked at, it will be noticed that before Matthews could even see the curtains on the cubicle she would have to be standing right in the doorway of the saloon and not merely flush with the building line. There are two circumstances which make it improbable that she would be so standing. One is that if Stanley were standing clear of, or even flush with, the building line, the conversation, if any, would be likely to take place where he was standing. The other is that she was not likely to stand right in the doorway of the saloon, when she was not on speaking terms with the proprietor of it. But again, the child, in order to be seen at all, would have to have her chair almost blocking the 2ft. 7in. doorway of the cubicle. The whole room is only 6ft. by 5ft. 5in., and Ross must have placed her in the only portion of it in which she could be seen by a person standing right in the doorway. Yet Matthews’ glance was sufficient to enable her to describe the girl as wearing a little mushroom-shaped hat “coming round her face something like mine”—a white hat with a maroon sort of band like the one produced, pushed back a little from the face, but coming down around the face, a white blouse or jumper “with just straps over the shoulder; her hair was a sort of auburn shade, not particularly a ginger hair, but that pretty shade of auburn,” while as to her age “she struck me as being 12 or 13.” An excellent example of instantaneous mental photography in colours!
There are some further facts about Matthews which help to explain why she, although, according to the detectives, she made no statement to them until she gave her evidence in the Coroner’s Court on January 25, has yet got away with the lion’s share of the reward. That, however, will be dealt with fully when we come to deal, under the head of the new evidence, with the extraordinary story of a man named Halliwell.