“Impossible!” exclaimed the Coroner, while the twelve jurymen stood aghast at my statement.
“That is quite true, sir,” exclaimed Patterson, rising from his seat. “The lady we first discovered was younger, with fair hair.”
“Then there must have been a triple tragedy,” observed the Coroner, astounded. “This is most extraordinary.”
I was about to explain how I had recognised in the girl I met in St. James’s Park the identical woman whom we had discovered lifeless, but a sharp look from the inspector silenced me.
“We are making diligent inquiries,” the officer went on, “and we have reason to believe that we shall be able to make a further statement later—at the adjourned inquiry.”
The Coroner nodded, and turning to the jury, said—
“Of course, gentlemen, it would not be wise at this stage for the police to disclose any of the information in their possession. Their success in such matters as this mainly depends upon secrecy. I think we may now, perhaps, hear the medical evidence.”
The jury stirred uneasily and settled themselves to listen intently as Dr Lees Knowles, the police divisional surgeon, stepped forward and was sworn.
“I was called by the police to the house,” he said, “and found there two deceased persons, a man and a woman, in the drawing-room on the first floor. The attire of the man was rather disarranged, as the police had already searched him, but there were no signs whatever of a struggle.”
“You made a cursory examination, of course,” suggested the Coroner.