บทที่ บทที่ 2 · THE CORONER’S INQUEST
being now in session, I felt a strong desire
to be present, so, requesting Mr. Gryce to inform the ladies
that Mr. Veeley was absent from town, and that I had come as his
substitute, to render them any assistance they might require on so
melancholy an occasion, I proceeded to the large parlor below, and
took my seat among the various persons there assembled.
FOOTNOTE:
[A] For those who are interested in the details of this affair, the
following diagram is given:
[Illustration: 1. Library table. 2. Chair. 3. Passageway. 4. Bed.
5. Shaving stand.]
Chapter 2. THE CORONER’S INQUEST
“The baby figure of the giant mass
Of things to come.”
Troilus and Cressida.
For a few minutes I sat dazed by the sudden flood of light greeting
me from the many open windows; then, as the strongly contrasting
features of the scene before me began to impress themselves upon my
consciousness, I found myself experiencing something of the same
sensation of double personality which years before had followed an
enforced use of ether. As at that time, I appeared to be living
two lives at once: in two distinct places, with two separate sets
of incidents going on; so now I seemed to be divided between two
irreconcilable trains of thought; the gorgeous house, its elaborate
furnishing, the little glimpses of yesterday’s life, as seen in the
open piano, with its sheet of music held in place by a lady’s fan,
occupying my attention fully as much as the aspect of the throng of
incongruous and impatient people huddled about me.
Perhaps one reason of this lay in the extraordinary splendor of
the room I was in; the glow of satin, glitter of bronze, and
glimmer of marble meeting the eye at every turn. But I am rather
inclined to think it was mainly due to the force and eloquence of a
certain picture which confronted me from the opposite wall. A sweet
picture--sweet enough and poetic enough to have been conceived
by the most idealistic of artists: simple, too--the vision of a
young flaxen-haired, blue-eyed coquette, dressed in the costume of
the First Empire, standing in a wood-path, looking back over her
shoulder at some one following--yet with such a dash of something
not altogether saint-like in the corners of her meek eyes and
baby-like lips, that it impressed me with the individuality of
life. Had it not been for the open dress, with its waist almost
beneath the armpits, the hair cut short on the forehead, and the
perfection of the neck and shoulders, I should have taken it
for a literal portrait of one of the ladies of the house. As it
was, I could not rid myself of the idea that one, if not both,
of Mr. Leavenworth’s nieces looked down upon me from the eyes of
this entrancing blonde with the beckoning glance and forbidding
hand. So vividly did this fancy impress me that I half shuddered
as I looked, wondering if this sweet creature did not know what
had occurred in this house since the happy yesterday; and if so,
how she could stand there smiling so invitingly,--when suddenly
I became aware that I had been watching the little crowd of men
about me with as complete an absorption as if nothing else in the
room had attracted my attention; that the face of the coroner,
sternly intelligent and attentive, was as distinctly imprinted
upon my mind as that of this lovely picture, or the clearer-cut
and more noble features of the sculptured Psyche, shining in
mellow beauty from the crimson-hung window at his right; yes, even
that the various countenances of the jurymen clustered before me,
commonplace and insignificant as most of them were; the trembling
forms of the excited servants crowded into a far corner; and the
still more disagreeable aspect of the pale-faced, seedy reporter,
seated at a small table and writing with a ghoul-like avidity that
made my flesh creep, were each and all as fixed an element in the
remarkable scene before me as the splendor of the surroundings
which made their presence such a nightmare of discord and unreality.
I have spoken of the coroner. As fortune would have it, he was
no stranger to me. I had not only seen him before, but had held
frequent conversation with him; in fact, knew him. His name was
Hammond, and he was universally regarded as a man of more than
ordinary acuteness, fully capable of conducting an important
examination, with the necessary skill and address. Interested as
I was, or rather was likely to be, in this particular inquiry, I
could not but congratulate myself upon our good fortune in having
so intelligent a coroner.
As for his jurymen, they were, as I have intimated, very much like
all other bodies of a similar character. Picked up at random from
the streets, but from such streets as the Fifth and Sixth Avenues,
they presented much the same appearance of average intelligence and
refinement as might be seen in the chance occupants of one of our
city stages. Indeed, I marked but one amongst them all who seemed
to take any interest in the inquiry as an inquiry; all the rest
appearing to be actuated in the fulfilment of their duty by the
commoner instincts of pity and indignation.
Dr. Maynard, the well-known surgeon of Thirty-sixth Street, was
the first witness called. His testimony concerned the nature of
the wound found in the murdered man’s head. As some of the facts
presented by him are likely to prove of importance to us in our
narrative, I will proceed to give a synopsis of what he said.
Prefacing his remarks with some account of himself, and the
manner in which he had been summoned to the house by one of the
servants, he went on to state that, upon his arrival, he found
the deceased lying on a bed in the second-story front room, with
the blood clotted about a pistol-wound in the back of the head;
having evidently been carried there from the adjoining apartment
some hours after death. It was the only wound discovered on the
body, and having probed it, he had found and extracted the bullet
which he now handed to the jury. It was lying in the brain, having
entered at the base of the skull, passed obliquely upward, and
at once struck the _medulla oblongata_, causing instant death.
The fact of the ball having entered the brain in this peculiar
manner he deemed worthy of note, since it would produce not only
instantaneous death, but an utterly motionless one. Further, from
the position of the bullet-hole and the direction taken by the
bullet, it was manifestly impossible that the shot should have been
fired by the man himself, even if the condition of the hair about
the wound did not completely demonstrate the fact that the shot was
fired from a point some three or four feet distant. Still further,
considering the angle at which the bullet had entered the skull,
it was evident that the deceased must not only have been seated
at the time, a fact about which there could be no dispute, but he
must also have been engaged in some occupation which drew his head
forward. For, in order that a ball should enter the head of a man
sitting erect at the angle seen here, of 45 degrees, it would be
necessary, not only for the pistol to be held very low down, but in
a peculiar position; while if the head had been bent forward, as in
the act of writing, a man holding a pistol naturally with the elbow
bent, might very easily fire a ball into the brain at the angle
observed.
Upon being questioned in regard to the bodily health of Mr.
Leavenworth, he replied that the deceased appeared to have been
in good condition at the time of his death, but that, not being
his attendant physician, he could not speak conclusively upon
the subject without further examination; and, to the remark of
a juryman, observed that he had not seen pistol or weapon lying
upon the floor, or, indeed, anywhere else in either of the
above-mentioned rooms.
I might as well add here what he afterwards stated, that from the
position of the table, the chair, and the door behind it, the
murderer, in order to satisfy all the conditions imposed by the
situation, must have stood upon, or just within, the threshold of
the passageway leading into the room beyond. Also, that as the ball
was small, and from a rifled barrel, and thus especially liable
to deflections while passing through bones and integuments, it
seemed to him evident that the victim had made no effort to raise
or turn his head when advanced upon by his destroyer; the fearful
conclusion being that the footstep was an accustomed one, and the
presence of its possessor in the room either known or expected.
The physician’s testimony being ended, the coroner picked up the
bullet which had been laid on the table before him, and for a
moment rolled it contemplatively between his fingers; then, drawing
a pencil from his pocket, hastily scrawled a line or two on a
piece of paper and, calling an officer to his side, delivered some
command in a low tone. The officer, taking up the slip, looked at
it for an instant knowingly, then catching up his hat left the
room. Another moment, and the front door closed on him, and a wild
halloo from the crowd of urchins without told of his appearance in
the street. Sitting where I did, I had a full view of the corner.
Looking out, I saw the officer stop there, hail a cab, hastily
enter it, and disappear in the direction of Broadway.