CHAPTER XVI
THE INQUEST
The morning of the inquest broke beautifully fine and sunny. I looked out of my bedroom window and felt that the duty that lay ahead of us meant putting such a glorious day to poor use. The inquest was to be held at the “Swan’s Nest”—the most pretentious hostelry that Considine boasted. I shaved, washed and dressed with an ill grace that morning, for I could remember attending an inquest before—it had bored me beyond expression.
Sir Charles opened the matter at breakfast. “Baddeley tells me they are bringing Marshall in from Lewes for to-day’s affair. I was, I confess, somewhat surprised at the news—I had scarcely anticipated such a step. I suppose they know their own business best.”
“Who is the coroner for this district, Sir Charles?” asked Anthony.
“A Dr. Anselm. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him once or twice before ... being a magistrate,” replied our host.
“It wouldn’t astonish me to see a verdict of ‘Wilful murder’ against ‘Spider’ Webb,” said Jack Considine—“despite what he and this pretty wife of his say about it. What’s your opinion, Bathurst?”
Anthony walked across to the sideboard and helped himself to a healthy portion of cold pie.
“Depends entirely upon what Baddeley wants,” he responded. “If he’s keen on that particular verdict he’ll probably play his cards to get it. Personally, I’m not so sure that he is.” He went back to the table.
“What makes you think that, Bathurst?” asked Captain Arkwright.
“Oh—I’m not suggesting anything against Baddeley, in any shape or form—but the police have advantages in these matters—they’re playing on their own ground as it were.” He laughed. “I’m assured in my own mind that it is so—I’ve watched events pretty closely and often noticed it—still, this Inspector has impressed me throughout as an upright, honest and quite efficient person so we can’t tell.” He walked back to his seat. Then continued, “And of course, there’s always the possibility that he may have something up his sleeve. Personally—I shall expect it.”