The Hampstead Mystery

by John R. Watson; Arthur J. Rees

The interest of the junior bar in the crime was as personal as that of the members of the Judicial Bench, though it manifested itself in an entirely different direction. They speculated among themselves as to who would be appointed to the vacancy on the High Court Bench. A leading K.C. with a political pull would of course be selected by the Attorney-General, but there were several K.C.'s who possessed these qualifications, and therefore there was room for differences of opinion among the junior bar as to who would get the offer. The point on which they were all united was that vacancies of the High Court Bench were a good thing for the bar as a whole, for they removed leading K.C.'s, and the dispersion of their practice was like rain on parched ground. Metaphorically speaking, every one—including even the junior bar—had the chance of getting a shove up when a leading K.C. accepted a judicial appointment. Some of the more irreverent spirits among the junior bar, in drawing attention to the fact that Sir Horace Fewbanks had been one of the youngest members of the High Court Bench, expressed the hope that the shock of his death would be felt by some of the extremely aged members of the bench who were too infirm in health to be able to stand many shocks.

The members of the junior bar chatted with the representatives of the lower branch of the profession who ranged from articled clerks whose young souls had not been entirely dried up by association with parchment, to hard old delvers in dusty documents who had lived so long in the legal atmosphere of quibbling, obstruction, and deceit, that they were as incapable of an honest impetuous act as of an illegal one. The gossip concerning the murdered judge in which the two branches of the profession joined had reference to his moral character in legal circles. There had always been gossip of the kind in his life-time. Sir Horace's judicial reputation was beyond reproach and he had known his law a great deal better than most of his judicial colleagues. Comparatively few of his decisions had been upset on appeal. But every one about the courts knew that he was susceptible to a pretty feminine face and a good figure.

Many were the conflicts that arose in court between bench and bar as the result of Mr. Justice Fewbanks's habit of protecting pretty witnesses from cross-examining questions which he regarded as outside the case. There was no suggestion that his judicial decisions were influenced by the good looks of ladies who were parties to the cases heard by him, but there were rumours that on occasions the relations between the judge and a pretty witness begun in court had ripened into something at which moral men might well shake their heads.

While the members of the legal profession struggled to obtain seats in the body of the court, an entirely different class of spectators struggled to get into the gallery. For the most part they were badly dressed men who needed a shave, but there were a few well-dressed men among them, and also a few ladies. Detective Rolfe took a professional interest in the occupants of the gallery. "What a collection of crooks," he whispered to Inspector Chippenfield. "A regular rogues' gallery. Look—there is 'Nosey George'; it is time he was in again. And behind him is that cunning old 'drop' Ikey Samuels—I wish we could get him. Look at the other end of the first row. Isn't that 'Sunny Jim'? I hardly knew him. He's grown a beard since he's been out. We'll soon have it off again for him. He's got the impudence to scowl at us. He'll lay for you one of these nights, Inspector."

The judicial duties of the murdered man had been concerned chiefly with civil cases at the Royal Courts of Justice, but when the criminal calendar had been heavy he had often presided at Number One Court at the Old Bailey. It was this fact which had given the criminal class a sort of personal interest in his murder and accounted for the presence of many well-known criminals who happened to be out of gaol at the time. The spectators in the gallery included men whom the murdered man had sentenced and men who had been fortunate enough to escape being sentenced by him owing to the vagaries of juries. There were pickpockets, sneak thieves, confidence men, burglars, and receivers among the occupants of the gallery, and many of them had brought with them the ladies who assisted them professionally or presided over their homes when they were not in gaol.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the man we want is among that bunch," said
Rolfe to Inspector Chippenfield.

"You've a lot to learn about them, my boy," said his superior.

"There is Crewe up among them," continued Rolfe. "I wonder what he thinks he's after."

Inspector Chippenfield gave a glance in the direction of Crewe, but did not deign to give any sign of recognition. The fact that Crewe by his presence in the gallery seemed to entertain the idea that the murderer might be found among the occupants of that part of the court could not be as lightly dismissed as Rolfe's vague suggestion. It annoyed Inspector Chippenfield to think that Crewe might be nearer at the moment to the murderer than he himself was, even though that proximity was merely physical and unsupported by evidence or even by any theory. It would have been a great relief to him if he had known that Crewe's object in going to the gallery was not to mix with the criminal classes, but in order to keep a careful survey of what took place in the body of the court without making himself too prominent.

Mr. Holymead, K.C., arrived, and members of the junior bar deferentially made room for him. He shook hands with some of these gentlemen and also with Inspector Chippenfield, much to the gratification of that officer. Miss Fewbanks arrived in a taxi-cab a few minutes before the appointed hour of eleven. She was accompanied by Mrs. Holymead, and they were shown into a private room by Police-Constable Flack, who had received instructions from Inspector Chippenfield to be on the lookout for the murdered man's daughter.