Authors: Muriel Spark
‘Well,
not exactly. I let the rent go. We were very friendly, you see, after I got to
know him.’
‘And,
finding him trustworthy as a medium, you had confidence in his practical advice
and judgment?’
‘Yes, I
told him everything.’
‘His
lordship has asked you whether you have ever been in a trance. I am going to
repeat that question.’
‘I don’t
think so, sir.’
‘Think
carefully. Because you said’ — he consulted his notes — ‘you told the court,
when you looked at the letter, “It looks very like my writing. I couldn’t have
written it unless I was in a trance or something.”‘ His voice rose with nasal
emphasis on the words ‘or something’, and he repeated her words again: ‘unless
I was in a trance or something.’ He put down his notes and breathed deeply. ‘Now,
Mrs. Flower,’ he said, ‘I am going to put it to you that you have, in fact, had
the experience of trances.’
‘I
couldn’t say,’ she said. ‘It only looks funny that my handwriting should be on
the letter and I don’t remember writing it.’
‘And it
may have been written while you were in a trance?’
The
judge said, ‘Has anyone ever seen you in a state of trance? Has anyone ever
told you or suggested to you that you have been in a trance?’
‘No,
sir. But I could have been in a trance on my own.’
‘Were
you in anything like a trance last April when it is suggested that the letter
was written?’ said the judge.
‘I
couldn’t really say. I was poorly in April.’ The Defence Counsel continued: ‘You
admit the possibility that one day when you were alone you wrote that letter
while in a state of trance?’
‘It
is
possible. If you’d seen as much as I have of spiritualism, you would know
that the gift can descend on anyone, even an untrained person.’
‘By “gift”,’
said the judge, ‘do you mean a state of trance?’
‘Yes,
and then becoming a medium and getting in touch,’ she said.
‘Let us
get this clear,’ said the judge. ‘A person in a state of trance as you call it,
rolls up his or her eyes, foams at the mouth and twitches. Then he or she
begins to speak?’
‘Sometimes
they say nothing.’
‘What
happens,’ said the judge, ‘when they come out of their trance? Describe it.’
‘They
look very exhausted, sir, and don’t know where they are for some minutes.’
‘Have
you ever experienced a sensation, while alone, of exhaustion and not knowing
where you are, by which you could assume you had just come out of a trance?’
‘Sometimes
I’ve dropped off and felt a bit strange, my lord, for a few minutes.’
‘Have there
been any other signs of a trance such as saliva from foaming at the mouth?’
‘Oh no,
sir.’
‘Do you
yourself think you have been in a state of unconsciousness,’ said the judge,
very slow and clear, ‘and at the same time able to write that letter? Try to be
explicit.’
‘I don’t
know, sir, I’m sure.’
Martin
got up to re-examine her. ‘He’ll make matters worse,’ Matthew said, and he was
right.
Martin’s
tones became menacing as she muddled on.
‘Mrs.
Flower, I am going to call an expert,’ Martin said nastily to his witness, ‘who
will swear that this letter is a forgery. Are you suggesting that he is
mistaken?’
‘No, I’ll
abide by what he says,’ said Freda.
‘Here
comes Ronald,’ said Matthew, ‘in his new dark chalk-stripe. He should have been
a Civil Servant.’
‘Detestable
man,’ said Alice.
‘Not a
bit of it,’ said Matthew. ‘You don’t know him at all.’
‘The
jury are whispering together. Are they allowed to do that?’ Alice said.
‘Yes,’
said Matthew. ‘It’s their court, really. Everything depends on them.’
‘I don’t
like that blonde woman,’ Alice said. ‘With her dyed hair she shouldn’t be on a
jury.’
Ronald,
as he walked up the steps to the witness box, caught a flash-like impression of
the jury, as they leaned across and consulted each other, head to head, and
this reminded him of some fresco of the Last Supper. The jury righted itself
when Ronald reached his post.
Ronald’s
evidence, as he compared the precise points at which the handwriting of the
letter departed from examples of Freda Flower’s handwriting and coincided with
examples of Patrick Seton’s, provided a perceptible rest-cure for the bewigged
minds. The barristers stopped fidgeting with their papers. The judge stopped
resting his head on his left hand.
‘I have
found,’ said Ronald, ‘from microscopic examination that certain letters have
been formed from a starting-point different from those of Mrs. Flower’s
handwriting. The letter “o” for example — although to the naked eye it is
completely closed both in Exhibits B and D — has apparently been formed by
different hands. In Exhibit B the “o” has been started from the top. In Exhibit
D the “o” has been started from the right hand curve.’
‘Exhibit
B,’ said the judge to the jury, ‘is the letter which it is alleged has been
forged. Exhibit D is the example of Mrs. Flower’s handwriting.’
‘The
effect of trembling in some of the upward strokes of the signature in Exhibit
B,’ said Ronald, ‘is visible under the microscope. This trembling in some of
the upward strokes is not present in the body of the letter and suggests that the
signature has been traced. The formation of the letter “1” in Exhibits B, C and
D—”
‘Just a
moment,’ said the judge. ‘The jury must be clear. Exhibit B is the alleged
forgery. Exhibit D is the example of Mrs. Flower’s handwriting. Exhibit C is
the example of the accused’s writing.’
‘The
formation of the letter “l” in Exhibits—”
‘He’s
marvellous,’ said Matthew. ‘I didn’t know Ronald had it in him.’
Ronald
was fumbling in his inner pocket.
‘Too
damned smart,’ said Alice. ‘You just wait till he’s cross-examined. We’ve got a
first-rate barrister in Farmer.’
‘What
is your conclusion, Mr. Bridges?’ said Martin. ‘That the letter, Exhibit B, is
a forgery and that it has been forged by the accused.’
Ronald
was fumbling in his outer pockets.
‘Now
here’s our man,’ said Alice, as the Defence Counsel heaved himself to his feet.
But
Farmer was content to await the conflicting evidence of his expert, he was
content to say to Ronald,
‘Mr.
Bridges, have you ever made a mistake?’
‘Yes,’
said Ronald.
‘This
opinion of yours couldn’t be one of them?’
‘I have
never, so far as I know, made a mistake in a case of forgery.’
‘So far
as you know. Thank you, Mr. Bridges —Oh, oh, watch out…’
Ronald
swayed. He fumbled in his pockets for his pills. They were in his other suit,
at home. He gave up. He stumbled down the steps and fell two steps before he
got to the bottom. There he foamed at the mouth. His eyes turned upward, and
the drum-like kicking of his heels began on the polished wooden floor.
‘Is
this man a medium?’ said the judge.
The
clerk approached Ronald. Two male members of the jury came out of their places,
looking suddenly deprived of any excuse for their presence in the court. It was
difficult to get near Ronald. ‘Put something between his teeth,’ said Martin
Bowles, in the tones of a zoophobic veterinary practitioner. ‘He’s an
epileptic.’
The
judge rested his head in his left hand. Patrick looked solemnly up at Alice.
She was peering over the balcony, looking down at Ronald. Patrick was filled with
solace at the sight. I will look down on her, he thought, when she is lying on
the mountainside, and the twitching will cease.
‘Do you
believe in prayer?’ said Alice to Matthew when they went down, after the fuss
was over, to lunch in the public canteen.
‘He’s putting up a marvellous
fight,’ Alice whispered. ‘I’ve never seen Patrick in such good form. I’ve never
heard him speak up like this. It’s as if he was fighting for his life.’
Once or
twice Patrick glanced at her from the witness box, for he could get a better
view of her from there. The thought of Alice kept him going.
‘I
know,’ whispered Alice, ‘he’s making the effort for me. It’s as if he was
fighting for my life. He’s not an outspoken man as a rule. It shows what’s in
Patrick.’
The
answers came without hesitation, clear and strong. It might have been the voice
of one of those army men who know exactly what they think, and say it. He took
courage from his desire to be acquitted, rather than timidity from his fear of
being convicted and the practised members of the jury noticed this. Ronald,
sitting defiantly in his exhaustion among the witnesses, managed to recall the
last time he had heard Patrick speak. That had been at the Maidstone Assizes.
Then, Patrick had mumbled.
Freda
Flower sat horrified at Patrick’s manner.
‘I am,
in spite of my calling, a man of the world, a practical man….
‘There
was never any question of my buying defence bonds….
‘Mrs.
Flower frequently went into a trance. She is herself an excellent medium with
extraordinary psychic powers….
‘It is
impossible that she does not know that she possesses this gift….
‘I
suggest, without wishing to implicate Mrs. Flower further than necessary, that
she became incensed when I left her, and dreamed up this story….
‘I
prefer to say no more about my private relationship with Mrs. Flower, if that
is permissible….
‘I made
the statement at the police station while still in a state of semi-trance. In
such a condition the subject is highly suggestible…. I signed this statement
at the suggestion of the officer in charge. I have no recollection of doing
so….
‘I
would describe the statement as a forced confession….
Patrick
kept his eyes off Fergusson. He looked from time to time at Alice.
‘You
would think he’d been saving it up,’ Alice breathed. ‘Like an athlete that
spares himself till the time comes.’
‘I deny
it,’ Patrick said, when asked if he had forged the letter.
His
counsel sat down. Martin Bowles coughed and stood up and adjusted his robes.
‘Do you
really expect the court to believe, Mr. Seton, that a widow in Mrs. Flower’s
position would hand you over her life savings of two thousand pounds to use for
your own purposes?’
‘If you
will refer to her letter you will see that she requested me to use the money to
further my psychic and spiritual work. She did not ask me to use it for my own
purposes. I have used the money to further my psychic and spiritual work as she
requested.’
‘You
have heard the evidence of the Crown’s graphologist. I suggest that Mrs.
Flower did not write that letter, but that you forged it after you had made the
statement to the police, in order to discredit the statement.’
‘I deny
it; and I deny that I made a statement to the police in any circumstances which
could be described as free.’
Matthew
whispered, ‘I wish my sister-in-law could have seen all this.’
‘What’s
it got to do with her?’ said Alice.
‘Hush,’
said Matthew, ‘don’t talk.’
The
judge said, ‘In what manner have you used this money to further your psychic
and spiritual work?’
‘I have
spent it on the scientific training of mediums, the purchase of books on
psychical research, and in travelling abroad to exchange views on the subject
with foreign mediums, and on travelling in this country to extend my knowledge
and impart it. Spiritualism is a science, and a science requires financial
support.’
‘In
what does the training of mediums consist?’ said the judge.
‘A
scientific course comprising various exercises of mind and body. An untrained
medium is proved by experience to be a menace to society. Properly trained, the
medium is a useful and practical vehicle of human aspirations.’
The
blonde member of the jury was leaning forward attentively. Seton has got a new
customer, Ronald thought, if he gets out of this.
The
judge’s pen scratched on. The typist in the corner listlessly pounded her
silent machine. Martin continued:
‘Do you
consider it a reputable action to accept money from a widow in Mrs. Flower’s
circumstances to use for your professional advancement?’
The
moron, Ronald thought, why doesn’t he pin him down on the questions of the forgery
and the bonds?
‘I was
acting under Mrs. Flower’s instructions. I do not need professional
advancement. I employed the money for the professional advancement of others.’
‘I
suggest that if you spent two thousand pounds between April and August you spent
it somewhat rapidly.’
‘Mrs.
Flower said in her letter that she left the details of the disposal of the
money entirely to me.’