The Trial of Marie Montrecourt (21 page)

She realised that Dr Hornby was waiting for her answer. “Yes, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m finding all this so hard to take in.” Everything was spiralling out of control.

“That’s understandable,” said the doctor, sympathetically, “but the sooner this matter is cleared up, the better for us all. It may be expensive, Mrs Minton. Dr Shelton is a very busy man and his services are not cheap.”

“No matter what the cost, this needs to be settled,” she managed to say.

“I want another doctor present as well,” said Edwin stubbornly.

Dr Hornby did not hide his exasperation, but another name was mentioned, a Dr Morton, to assist in the post-mortem, and it was agreed that a telegram should be sent to him. The Gilpins, satisfied that everything was now in hand, returned downstairs to their rooms. Dr Hornby hovered at Marie’s shoulder, hoping for a quiet word, but Edwin made it clear that he had no intention of leaving them alone together so the doctor said his goodbyes. He turned at the door.

“I’ll contact the undertakers for you, if you would like me to, Mrs Minton? I’m sure this matter will be quickly settled.”

Alone together in the bedroom, Marie faced Stanley’s father across the bed on which Stanley lay. This was not how it was meant to be. “I am so sorry for the pain this has caused you,” was all she could think of to say.

He glared at her fiercely. “You’ll not put my son in a coffin until I say so.”

“No, as you wish.” A wave of nausea welled up inside her. She desperately needed to sit down.

“I’ll wait outside in the street when the post-mortem happens, but I will be here. I will have the truth.” With a final glare, he swept out of the room.

As the door slammed behind him, Marie felt the room begin to spin.

*

Dr Hornby was faithful to his word and later that morning a Mrs Wilkinson arrived at number fourteen Garibaldi Street. She’d been sent by the undertakers to wash and lay out the body of Stanley. She passed on a message from the undertakers that the coffin shell was to be delivered the next day. She asked Mrs Minton if she would like to help her lay out the body, as she often found it aided the widow. It seemed to concentrate their minds and made it easier for them to accept what had happened. Marie declined. She needed to get out of the room as soon as she could.

As she was going, the woman told her that she was really a laundry woman who laid out the bodies of the dead to augment her income. “If you like, I can take the sheets and pillowcases from the bed, wash them and bring them back again. Would you like me to do that?”

Without thinking, Marie nodded. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” With one last glance at the body of Stanley, she fled from the room.

Dr Hornby was the first to arrive for the post-mortem and Dr Morton followed soon after. Marie went into the kitchen to make tea for them. She needed to keep herself busy to stop herself thinking too much. There was an air of unreality about everything that was happening to her. She shivered, aware of the macabre fact that the kitchen was the place where her husband’s body was soon to be dissected. She hurriedly left and entered the parlour, handing the tea to the two doctors. It took every ounce of self-control to stop her hands from shaking.

From now on, Dr Hornby told her, she must remain out of the kitchen and out of the parlour too, so she went up to her bedroom and tried to rest on the bed. She heard a brougham draw to a halt and she leapt up, pulling back the lace curtain to look out. It must be Dr Shelton arriving. There was a knock at the door of her room. It was Mrs Gilpin.

“If you want to use our front parlour to wait in, Gilpin says you’d be welcome.”

Marie refused. She was so on edge that she was afraid she would give herself away. She heard the body of Stanley being moved from his bedroom to the kitchen. This was unbearable. She looked out of the window again and was faced with the sight of Edwin pacing up and down on the pavement opposite. She looked down the street and saw Geoffrey hurrying towards him.

Mrs Gilpin had also seen the two men and she joined them outside. A few words were exchanged. The old man looked up towards Marie’s window and saw her watching. He turned back to Mrs Gilpin and nodded, and all three entered the house together, obviously heading for the Gilpin’s parlour. Marie dropped the curtain.

Now she could hear Geoffrey’s voice. He must be just outside the kitchen where the body was laying. He was talking to Dr Hornby. “You must let me see him. I just want to see him, before…” She didn’t hear the end of his sentence. There was a murmured agreement from Hornby and then silence. After a moment, she heard Geoffrey leave and return to the Gilpins. He’d made no effort to call on her. She hadn’t expected him to. All she could do now was wait.

*

His head ached and his mouth tasted foul. Siggy had rescued him from Gerry’s Bar, but it wasn’t until the following afternoon that Evelyn realised he was in Siggy’s apartment, sleeping on Siggy’s sofa. He tried to stand up, and every time he fell down again. Siggy fed him his well-known hangover cure of eggs and Worcester sauce, and a host of other ingredients that Evelyn would rather not know about. It did the trick. In a few hours, he could walk without collapsing.

“Stay another night, old dear. You still look dreadful.”

“No, I should go home. Wilson informed me that mother intends to visit Carlton Terrace today, God knows why. She’ll probably be there already, demanding to know where I am.” One of Siggy’s finest qualities was knowing when not to ask questions, and he asked none now. “I appreciate you putting me up like this, Siggy, and at such short notice.”

“You would have done the same for me. Do you want me to call you a cab? I’m not sure you’ll manage to walk very far.”

“No. No, I need the air. I’ll be all right.”

*

He let himself into Carlton Terrace, hoping that perhaps his mother hadn’t arrived yet.

“Evelyn.” Hope promptly vanished as his mother’s voice rang out. “Come in here, will you? We need to talk.” She was silhouetted in the doorway of the study and it was obvious that she’d been waiting for him since the morning. “Close the door behind you.”

He did as she instructed, keeping his back to her in the hope she wouldn’t see the state he was in, but nothing escaped his mother’s sharp eyes. “You look as if you’ve slept out in the park all night,” was her scathing comment. “Dr Oliver telephoned me yesterday to see how you were. He was worried about you, said you were behaving strangely. You really do look ill. Are you going to tell me the cause?”

“If you spoke to Dr Oliver, I think you already know the cause. It’s the past, Mama, the past – as always. Africa. Majuba.” He saw her back stiffen, but the time for stepping around the truth was over. “Father killed a man called Henri Montrecourt – not, as I first thought, because he wanted to protect his own reputation, but because he was sleeping with Hortense, the man’s wife. She wasn’t just any wife, though. She was married to a man who regularly sold her for sex to anyone who was willing to pay her price. Well, father paid the price in more ways than one, didn’t he? He caught syphilis.”

His mother put a hand out to steady herself as she sank onto a chair, but her face remained expressionless.

“You knew all about it, Mama, which is why you lied to me and told me it was typhoid fever that killed father. Well, I should tell you that what you said didn’t satisfy me and I tracked down the daughter of Hortense Montrecourt – my father’s daughter.”

“You did what?” His mother was astounded. “You met her?”

“Despite father paying the convent to keep her shut away, yes, I met her – and she deserved a better life than the one father foisted on her.”

Silence fell as Evelyn turned to pour himself a brandy. His mother broke the silence.

“Your father paid for Hortense’s passage to France, but he did not pay for the child to live at the convent. I did.”

Evelyn turned in astonishment. “You did?”

“I was with him when a letter arrived telling him that Hortense had died and had left a daughter. He destroyed it. He was a weak man, Evelyn, though the world never knew it. He wanted to forget what he had done, wipe it out of his mind, but I knew the existence of a daughter couldn’t be so easily dismissed. Our family has powerful enemies, as you know. One hint of your father’s… indiscretion… would have left us at their mercy. So I paid John Pickard to arrange for the girl to stay at the convent away from prying eyes. I hoped she would take her vows and stay there for the rest of her life and we would be able to forget about her, but, unfortunately, things didn’t happen that way. When it became obvious she was to leave, I instructed John Pickard to collect her and arrange for her to be married into a decent family as far away from us as possible.”

Evelyn couldn’t contain his anger. “So she was just an inconvenience as far as you were concerned, was she?

“I don’t apologise for what I did. I would do it again to protect what I think is important.”

“And what about Marie? Did anyone think to ask what was important to her?”

“I’m not sure I understand the question. How could a girl like that matter? I made sure her future was secure – what more could she ask for?”

Words failed Evelyn, but his expression conveyed his answer.

*

The post-mortem, which had begun at eleven o’clock, ended at two o’clock in the afternoon. Marie knew it was over because she saw Dr Shelton and his assistant re-entering the brougham. As she went downstairs, she stared as if mesmerised at the closed kitchen door from behind which she could hear the murmur of voices. Had they discovered anything? What was their conclusion?

“What’s happened?” Edwin was running up the stairs towards the open door of the apartment, followed by Geoffrey.

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard,” she replied.

Mrs Gilpin came out into the hallway below and called up, “Gilpin says you should all stay down here. Let the doctors come here to talk to you.”

Edwin and Geoffrey obediently returned. Marie took one last look at the closed kitchen door and reluctantly followed.

In the Gilpins’ parlour, she sat, hands folded in her lap, staring intently into space. Edwin paced the room and Geoffrey drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Mrs Gilpin had made some sandwiches and tea, but no one was interested in eating. At last, the door opened and Dr Morton and Dr Hornby entered. Edwin and Geoffrey stood up, while Marie remained seated, not trusting her legs to support her. Dr Morton, his face grave, ignored Marie and crossed straight over to Stanley’s father.

“Mr Minton, I should tell you that the contents of the stomach are suspicious and are to be preserved for further examination.”

Edwin gasped and fell back onto his chair. Geoffrey turned pale. For Marie, everything in the room seemed to slow down and stop. Time stopped. Her ability to breathe stopped. He hadn’t said chloroform, she clung to that. He hadn’t said they’d found any trace of chloroform.

Dr Morton now turned to the landlady. “Mrs Gilpin, the rooms above are to be locked and sealed and held under the jurisdiction of the District Coroner.” He finally turned to Marie, whose face had drained of colour. “Nothing must be removed from those rooms, Mrs Minton. You must not enter them or pack anything, or take anything away.”

What did that mean? Were they accusing her? Was she under suspicion? “But my clothes? Can’t I take any of my clothes?” Bewildered, she glanced around as if looking for them.

“Only the clothes you stand up in,” Dr Morton replied. “It is a normal precaution, Mrs Minton, under this kind of circumstance.”

She felt a little reassured. “A coat. I need a coat.”

Dr Hornby came forward with a solution. “If Mr Gilpin and I go together and take a coat, would that be all right?”

Dr Morton nodded. The men departed in silence and returned a few moments later carrying Marie’s coat. Her hands were shaking so much that she almost dropped it. She must take control of herself – after all, nobody had accused her of anything. It then struck her that she was being turned out of the house.

“I don’t know where to go. Where will I go?”

“Stay with friends, perhaps?” Dr Hornby suggested.

“I know no one.” She looked at Geoffrey and Edwin, who turned away. “No, I have no one.”

Mrs Gilpin spoke up. “I’ve got a sister who lives three streets away, Tilly Crawford. She has a spare room. I’ll talk to her. Will that suit?” Dr Morton nodded. Marie had never thought she would feel gratitude towards Mrs Gilpin.

“Your keys will be returned to you, Mrs Minton, as soon as the coroner’s officer has finished with them,” said Dr Morton.

“The funeral?” Geoffrey said. “When can we hold the funeral? I want him buried in Harrogate, where he was known and respected.”

“The body will be taken to the mortuary and released once the coroner has signed the release form,” replied Morton.

Marie couldn’t let them ignore her. “I’d started to arrange things. Dr Hornby was arranging things for me.”

“I’m aware of that,” Geoffrey said curtly, “but Stanley always said he wanted to be buried in Harrogate. I can see no point in you troubling yourself with these arrangements, as you know no one there. Isabelle and I will keep you informed about matters.” She wanted to protest, but, before she could, Geoffrey turned back to Dr Morton. “I’ll arrange for Stanley’s body to be collected as soon as the coroner allows.”

“Then I’ll bid you good day.” Morton turned to the landlady. “A policeman will be calling soon, Mrs Gilpin – an officer of the coroner’s court.” To the others, he said: “You will be informed when the date for the inquest is set.”

Marie turned to face Edwin and Geoffrey, but they refused to look at her.

“Come on, Pa, let’s go. There’s nothing more for us here. Thank you,” Geoffrey said formally to Mrs Gilpin. “I’m sorry you had to be involved in this.” Neither man said anything further to Marie.

Their departure left an awkward silence. “What is going to happen now?” Marie asked in a voice that could barely be heard.

“I would suggest you try and rest a little, Mrs Minton,” said Dr Hornby. “Stretch out on the sofa here? If Mrs Gilpin will permit?”

“I’ll get her a coverlet,” the landlady said, and her husband followed her out of the room.

It left her alone with the doctor for the first time since the post-mortem had begun. She turned to him, unable to contain her anxiety any longer. “What does all this mean, Dr Hornby? I’m at a loss to know.”

“It means that your husband’s sudden death has given us all a great deal of concern,” he replied. Before she could question him further, he added awkwardly: “I’m sorry, but I can’t say anymore than that, Mrs Minton. Forgive me.”

*

The inquest was held in Leeds, in the Old Court House in Turner Street, off the Headrow. It was a squat, square building, erected at the beginning of Victoria’s reign, and overshadowed by the vast neo-classical grandeur of the newer Town Hall nearby. Marie found the room dark and oppressive; the windows being too high up and too narrow to let in much light, and a layer of dust covered everything.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect from the proceedings, but it appeared that the only thing to happen on this first day was that the jury would be sworn in and then taken to view the body of Stanley Minton – which was lying in the mortuary. On the following day, she learnt, the hearing itself would begin.

To her relief, the inquest had caused very little interest and, consequently, there were still very few people in attendance on the second day. The coroner, Charles Wallington, entered. He was a long, thin man with an air of weariness about him. He nodded briefly at the jury of twelve men, who were settling down on the long wooden bench to his left. More benches faced the coroner and a chair had been placed to the right of his desk for those who were about to give their testimony.

Marie was already seated on one of the benches at the front of the hall, accompanied by Tilly, Mrs Gilpin’s sister, who was thrilled to find herself thrust so unexpectedly into the heart of such drama. The key to the rooms in Garibaldi Street had been returned to Marie yesterday, but she had decided to stay on with Tilly until the inquest was over. She couldn’t bear to go back to the apartment. She was afraid to stay there alone.

“You all right, Mrs Minton?” Tilly asked.

Marie nodded, distracted by the arrival of Edwin, Geoffrey and Isabelle. Isabelle gave her a brief smile, but the two men chose to ignore her completely. The Gilpins arrived with Dr Hornby and she was dismayed by the sight of Betsy Capes entering the court, two of her cronies trailing behind her. They sat in front of the only other person present, who was a young reporter from the
Leeds Mercury
– or so Tilly informed her in some excitement. He stretched his legs out along the empty wooden bench and yawned.