“And now I come to a new figure in the story of Henry Garlett and of Emily Garlett—I refer to Miss Jean Bower.”
For the first time he glances down at the paper, covered with pencilled notes, which he holds in his left hand; and then he gives the precise date of the arrival of the pretty young girl in Terriford village. He explains incidentally that her home with Dr. and Mrs. Maclean is only some ten minutes’ to a quarter of an hour’s walk from the Thatched House. There follows an account of how Garlett had given Jean Bower the position of official secretary to the limited company of which he, Garlett, was managing director. And just because Sir Almeric tells his tale in so simple and almost bald a manner, most of those present somehow realize very vividly how much may lie unsaid behind his measured words.
He does not propose, he says, to call much evidence as to the relations of these two people, but he will call three witnesses who saw them coming home together by the field path from Grendon to Terriford on the day which preceded Mrs. Garlett’s death.
“Both this man and this woman affirm,” he observes in a considering voice, “that they were scarcely acquainted at that time, and yet they were sufficiently acquainted to walk something like two miles in each other’s company, and Henry Garlett brought Jean Bower through his own garden, which, perhaps I ought in fairness to add, is something of a short cut to Bonnie Doon, where she was then living with her uncle and aunt.”
All too quickly for some of the ghouls in the public gallery, ay, and in the reserved seats, Sir Almeric sketches lightly but firmly what happened immediately after the return of the apparently disconsolate widower to the Thatched House.
“It is admitted by everybody concerned that from then onward Henry Garlett, the managing director of the Etna China works, and Jean Bower, official secretary of the company, became inseparable. Soon all the factory hands were commenting, though in no disagreeable way, or so I am informed, on their close friendship. I will bring to your notice the fact that Garlett, though besieged with invitations from old friends and acquaintances, scarcely ever went away during those autumn weeks. Now and again he took a Saturday to Monday off, but on the whole he stuck close to his work.”
Sir Almeric waits a few moments, and a glass of water is handed to him.
“And now, gentlemen, we come to a number of significant occurrences. Early in November these two people became betrothed. I cannot tell you the exact date of the engagement, which was kept more or less private by the wish of Dr. Maclean and his wife. But it is admitted that by early December this so-called private engagement was known to the whole of Terriford, and, as a matter of fact, the date of the marriage was actually fixed for December 19th.”
Sir Almeric ends his opening for the prosecution with a strange, dramatic suddenness, and calls in quick succession half a dozen witnesses, of whom by far the most important is Dr. Maclean.
The worthy physician’s ordeal does not last as long as was expected. He is taken through Mrs. Garlett’s long illness, and describes in very clear language her condition just before the night of her fatal illness.