William Monk 06 - Cain His Brother

mixed or confused the emotion.
    Ebenezer Goode was not yet there. It was he who was officially to represent the interests of Caleb Stone. Rathbone had persuaded Genevieve to allow him to represent her, as sister-in-law of the deceased, and therefore the closest relative. Ravensbrook had been only his childhood guardian, and had never apparently adopted either boy, and Selina was not Caleb’s wife.
    The coroner was a large, genial man with a ready smile, but more of agreeability than humor, as was appropriate to his calling. He opened proceedings with formality, then called the first witness, the gaoler Jimson. The room was simple, not like the high court in the Old Bailey. There were no steps to climb to a stand, no carved and ornamental bench or thronelike chair for the coroner as for the judge. Jimson stood behind a simple rail which did little more than mark the position for him, and the coroner sat behind a fine oak table.
    Jimson swore to tell the truth, then gave his name and occupation. He was so nervous he gulped and stumbled over his words.
    The coroner smiled at him benignly.
    “Now, Mr. Jimson, simply tell us what happened. There is no need to be so frightened, man. This is a court of inquiry, not of accusation. Now! Begin when the prisoner was put back in your custody after the trial was adjourned.”
    “Yes sir! M’lord!”
    “ ‘Sir’ will do very well. I am not a judge.”
    “Yes sir. Thank you, sir!” Jimson took a deep breath and swallowed hard again. “ ’E were in a rare state, the prisoner, I mean. ’E were laughin’ an’ shoutin’ an’ swearin’ fit ter bust. There was a rage in ’im like nothin’ I ever seen afore, ’cepting it were all mixed up wi’ laughter like there was some ’uge joke as only ’e knew. But ’e didn’t offer us no violence, like,” he added hastily. “ ’E went easy inter ’is cell an’ we locked ’im in.”
    “We?” the coroner inquired. “Can you recall which of you it was?”
    “Yes sir, it were me.”
    “I see. Proceed.”
    There was almost silence around the room, only the slight sound of fabric rustling as someone shifted in a seat, and a whisper as a woman spoke to the person next to her. The journalists present wrote nothing so far.
    “Then Lord Ravensbrook came an’ asked if ’e could see the prisoner, ’im bein’ ’is only relative, like,” Jimson continued. “An’ seein’ as ’ow things was goin’ bad with ’im in the trial. Guess like ’e thought as there’d be a verdict soon, an’ then ’e wouldn’t be allowed ter see ’im alone anymore, ’im bein’ a guilty man then, an’ still an innocent one now, leastways afore the law.”
    “I understand.” The coroner nodded. “You do not need to explain, it is quite clear, and natural.”
    “Thank you, sir.” Jimson did not look in the slightest relieved. “Well, it all seemed right ter us, Bailey an’ Alcott an’ me, so we let ’im in—”
    “Just a moment, Mr. Jimson,” the coroner interrupted. “When you let Lord Ravensbrook in, how was the prisoner? What was his demeanor, his attitude? Was he still in this rage you described earlier? How did he greet Lord Ravensbrook?”
    Jimson looked confused.
    “Did you see him, Mr. Jimson?” the coroner pressed. “It is necessary that you answer truthfully. This matter concerns the death of a man in your custody.”
    “Yes sir.” Jimson swallowed convulsively, only too desperately aware of his responsibility. “No sir, I didn’t go in with ’is lordship. I … I didn’t like ter, ’im bein’ family like, an’ knowin’ from the guard as ’ad ’im in court ’ow ’ard it were goin’, an’ as ’e were like ter be ’anged. I let ’is lordship in, w’en ’e said as ’e preferred ter be alone—”
    “Lord Ravensbrook said he wished to see the prisoner alone?”
    “Yes sir, ’e did.”
    “I see. Then what happened?”
    “Arter a few moments, ’is lordship came out an’ asked fer a pen an’ ink an’ paper, ’cos the prisoner wanted ter write a statement o’ some sort, I forget exactly what.” He fidgeted with his collar. It appeared to be too tight for him. “I sent Bailey fer ’em, an’ w’en ’e brought ’em back, I gave ’em ter ’is lordship, an’ ’e went back inter the cell wi’ ’em. Then just a few minutes arter that there were a cry, an’ a bangin’ on the door, an’ w’en I opened it, ’is lordship staggered out, covered wi’ blood, an’ said as