"The one member of the Levison family," he said, "for whom every one felt sorry was the eldest son Aaron. Like most men of his race he had been very fond of his mother, not because of any affection she may have shown him but just because she was his mother. He had worked hard for her all his life, and now through her death he found himself very much left out in the cold. It seems that by her will the old lady left all her savings, which, it seems, were considerable, and a certain share in the business, to Reuben, whilst to Aaron she only left the business nominally, with a great many charges on it in the way of pensions and charitable bequests and whatever was due to Reuben.
"But here I am digressing, as the matter of the will was not touched upon until later on, but there is no doubt that Aaron knew from the first that it would be Reuben who would primarily benefit by their mother's death. Nevertheless, he did not speak bitterly about his brother, and nothing that he said could be construed into possible suspicion of Reuben. He looked just a big lump of good nature, splendidly built, with the shoulders and gait of an athlete, but with an expression of settled melancholy in his face, and a dull, rather depressing voice. Seeing him there, gentle, almost apologetic, trying to explain away everything that might in any way cast a reflection upon his wife's conduct, one realised easily enough the man's position in the family—a kind of good-natured beast of burden, who would do all the work and never receive a 'thank you' in return.
"He was not able to throw much light on the horrible tragedy. He, too, had been at the dinner-table when the quarrel occurred, but directly after dinner he had been obliged to return to the shop, it being Saturday night and business very brisk. He had only one assistant to help him, who left at nine o'clock, after putting up the shutters: but he himself remained in the shop until ten o'clock to put things away and make up the books. He heard the taxi being called, and his wife and brother going off to the ball; he was not quite sure as to when that was, but he dared say it was somewhere near half-past nine.
"As nothing of special value had been pledged that day in the course of business, he had no occasion to go and speak with his mother before going up to bed and, on the whole he thought that, as she might still be rather sore and irritable, it would be best not to disturb her again, he did just knock at her door and called out 'good-night, mother.' But hearing no reply he thought she must already have been asleep.
"In answer to the coroner Aaron Levison further said that he had slept in the spare room at the top of the house for some time, as his wife was often very late coming home, and he did not like to have his night's rest broken. He had gone up to bed at ten o'clock and had neither seen nor heard anything in the house until six o'clock in the morning when the screams of the maid down below had roused him from his sleep and made him jump out of bed in double-quick time.
"Although Aaron's evidence was more or less of a formal character, and he spoke very quietly without any show either of swagger or of spite, one could not help feeling that the elements of drama and of mystery connected with this remarkable case were rather accentuated than diminished by what he said. Thus one was more or less prepared for those further developments which brought one's excitement and interest in the case to their highest point.
"Recalled, and pressed by the coroner to try and memorise every event, however trifling, that occurred on that Saturday evening, Ida Griggs, the maid, said that, soon after that she had dropped to sleep, she woke with the feeling that she had heard some kind of noise, but what it was she could not define: it might have been a bang, or a thud, or a scream. At the time she thought nothing of it, whatever it was, because while she lay awake for a few minutes afterwards, the house was absolutely still; but a moment or two later she certainly heard the window of Mrs. Levison's room being thrown open.
"'There did not seem to you anything strange in that?' the coroner asked her.
"'No, sir,' she replied, 'there was nothing funny in Mrs. Levison opening her window. I remember that it was raining rather heavily, for I heard the patter against the window-panes, and Mrs. Levison may have wanted to look at the weather. I went to sleep directly after that and thought no more about it.'
"'And you don't know what it was that woke you in the first instance?'