A Stroke of Bad Luck Read online

  Even when that lot had all been got through, it still wasn’t Dorothy Morton’s turn, for first they had to hear from PC Broadhead, who had been on the premises when the fire was finally put out and the wreckage examined for any signs that Frederick Morton had been inside the garage when it burned down. Though Broadhead did his best to explain the way that roof slates and wooden beams had fallen down onto the two cars, Ernest doubted that even the official photographs fully conveyed the scene of devastation which had confronted everyone that morning, after the fire brigade had finished damping down. Once it was cool enough to approach what remained of the barn, the village constable explained, it had not taken him long to confirm the fears of the waiting family members and farm workers alike. Lying across the buckled springs of what had once been the front seats of the Chrysler motor car, he had uncovered all that remained of the master of Saxton Grange. A good part of his body, all his clothing and facial features had been destroyed, but among the debris close by, Broadhead had found a set of keys and a man’s dress ring, both badly burned, but still easily identifiable as belonging to Fred Morton.

  ‘You say that when you found what remained of the torso, it appeared as if Mr Morton had been lying across the seats?’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  By the time both barristers had finished drawing out the evidence of Constable Broadhead, the day was over. They had spent so much time on the preliminaries, Ernest thought, what with the speeches and drawings and photographs and such like, they had barely got on to the meat of the matter at all. Even after the weeks spent on remand, he had yet to become accustomed to sitting still for so long. His had been a life of fresh air and physical activity, and winter or not, he longed to return to it. Once this blooming trial was over, he wanted nothing more than to saddle up a horse and ride out in the open air. He imagined the sound of the hooves, beating on the turf, the horse’s breathing, his own heart beating in tune with it all, but instead came the sharp command that all should rise, as His Lordship Travers Humphreys quit the room.

  Chapter Three

  Tuesday 12 December 1933

  Leeds Town Hall, The Yorkshire Assizes

  There was a perceptible stir in the public gallery as the usher called on Mrs Dorothy Morton to take the witness stand. As she rose from her position beside her father and crossed the narrow strip of floor to gain the witness box, she had to pass close in front of the dock, but she did not so much as glance at the man who sat there, though he never took his eyes off her. A tall, slim figure in the dark, well cut suit, which marked her widow hood. A little fur draped around her shoulders and an expensive hat, on which the papers were sure to comment. A delicately powdered face, handsome rather than pretty, with fashionably reddened lips, the colour of over-ripe strawberries. The court had fallen so silent that the delicate tap of her neat little heels was clearly audible to those seated in the public gallery.

  Mr Paley Scott led his principal witness gently into her evidence, inviting Dolly to say how long she and Freddie Morton had been married, where they had initially made their home, how long it was since he had inherited Saxton Grange from an uncle, and how they had only begun to live there on a permanent basis in January of the previous year. When Paley Scott’s questions moved on to the man in the dock himself, she agreed that Ernest Brown had worked for her husband for about four years, although the two men had known one another for much longer, having had regular contact at livestock shows and markets for a number of years, before her husband had offered Brown employment as a groom: ‘We needed a groom because we kept a lot of horses: both for our own use and because I ran a small riding school.’

  ‘And Brown’s duties included riding out with you, to help exercise the horses?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘He is a fine horseman, is he not?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Ernest kept his eyes fixed upon her, but Dolly still did not look his way.

  ‘And during these expeditions together, an association grew up between you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Intimacy took place?’

  ‘Yes.’ She continued to look straight at Mr Paley Scott. No flinching, no embarrassment. She might have been answering questions about her grocery order.

  ‘You were initially a willing participant?’

  ‘Initially, yes.’

  ‘How long did this state of affairs persist?’

  ‘For about twelve months. After that I wanted to end it and I tried to turn away his advances.’

  ‘And how did Brown take this rejection?’

  ‘He did not like it. He became threatening.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘He said that he would tell my husband.’

  ‘Did he offer you violence?’

  ‘Yes.’

  From the dock, Ernest willed her to look at him, but Dolly continued to focus her full attention on Mr Paley Scott.

  ‘So you had to go on accepting this man’s advances – even though you did not want to?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You did not tell your husband.’

  ‘I was afraid to.’

  ‘So matters between yourself and the accused continued as before.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was Brown a jealous man?’

  ‘Very jealous.’

  ‘Can you tell the court in what way this jealousy manifested itself?’

  ‘Well… For example on one occasion, Brown saw me talking to another man and he threatened to strangle me.’

  ‘To strangle you?’ Paley Scott repeated it slowly and clearly, allowing everyone to dwell as long as possible over the words.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your husband was frequently away from home on business?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When your husband was away, was there anyone else to whom you could look for protection?’

  ‘No one. Not until the arrival of Miss Houseman, who was employed from the end of July this year, as my companion and to help look after the baby.’

  ‘Apart from your husband and your child, Mrs Morton, how many people normally spent the night at your farm?’

  ‘Only Brown and Miss Houseman slept on the premises.’

  ‘Miss Houseman inside the house and Brown in a hut nearby?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘Did something happen in June last year, which altered the situation in respect of Brown?’

  ‘Yes. Brown left his job at Saxton Grange in June and went back to his people in Huddersfield.’

  ‘He left of his own accord?’

  ‘Yes. He had been asked to cut the lawn. He said that wasn’t part of his duties, lost his temper and walked out.’

  ‘Your husband immediately replaced him.’

  ‘Yes, we could not be without a groom.’

  ‘But then Brown wanted his job back?’

  ‘Yes. He walked out on the Tuesday, but then he telephoned me later the same day, asking for his job back and when I declined to take him back on, the next day he wrote me a letter, asking the same thing.’

  ‘What did you do with the letter?’

  ‘I destroyed it. I destroy all my correspondence.’

  ‘Did you write back to him?’

  ‘Yes. I told him that his position had been filled.’

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘On the Friday of that week he turned up at the farm. I was alone in the house. He came inside and demanded that I get him reinstated.’

  ‘Did Brown threaten you on this occasion?’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘He said that he would strangle me, if I did not get him his job back.’

  ‘Where was your husband at this time?’

  ‘He was at Carlisle. He went there every Friday for the cattle market.
’

  ‘So Brown would have known that he would be away from home that day?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did you do in the face of these threats?’

  ‘I telephoned my husband, at the hotel where I knew that he ate his lunch in Carlisle. I told him that Brown had turned up, asking for his old position, but of course, Freddie said that the role had already been filled. I relayed this to Brown and he made a gesture with his hands – like someone wringing a chicken’s neck – so I asked Freddie – I pleaded with him, really – whether there wasn’t some other job available on the farm that Brown could have, and Freddie said that we could take him back on as a kind of handyman.’

  ‘So from June last year, your husband re-employed Brown as a handyman. Was he happy with that situation?’

  ‘No. He did not like the new job. He became ever more unkind and disrespectful.’

  Ernest watched for the slightest sign of hesitation, but there was none. Dolly would make an excellent impression, he thought, with her confident delivery, and that clear articulation which reached the furthest corners of the court room. She held her head as erect as if she were on horseback, showing off her handsome features to their best advantage. He found himself picturing her in the paddock back at Saxton Grange, bareheaded, in her jodhpurs and blouse, instructing some kiddie on a pony at the end of a leading rein. In his mind’s eye, he saw her glance across at him, as he passed the paddock gate, her momentary expression full of invitations and promises.

  Ernest sensed a lessening of interest among the old biddies, while Mr Paley Scott, having safely re-established Ernest in his new role at the farm, began to question Dolly on a variety of other matters, including the various motor vehicles which were kept at Saxton Grange. There was the Chrysler which her husband had habitually driven, the Essex, which was a general runabout, used by both the women in the household, and the horsebox, which was used whenever the need arose to transport livestock by road. On the evening of Tuesday 5 September, she explained, her husband had been out on business in the Chrysler, Brown had been out making a delivery with the horsebox and Miss Houseman had been out on an errand in the Essex, which on her return she had parked at the top of the drive, where it would normally be left for Brown to put it into the garage later (the unspoken fact of the matter, Ernest thought, being that this was a manoeuvre quite beyond the limited driving skills of young Ann Houseman).

  Any heads which had been nodding soon went up again, when Mr Paley Scott asked his witness to tell him what had happened that day in more detail. Finally, they were getting to the nitty gritty of the matter. Dolly began slowly and carefully, not Ernest thought, as if there was any doubt about what she had to say, but rather as if she were determined to leave nothing out.

  ‘My husband left the house at about one thirty that afternoon. He had some business to attend to in Oldham. It’s about an hour’s run from Saxton Grange in each direction, and he said that he would be back at about six o’clock. We usually ate our meal at about six thirty. Brown had been sent out in the horsebox at around noon, and he was also expected back in the early evening.’

  ‘Would the entire household usually have sat down to a meal together?’ enquired Mr Paley Scott.

  ‘Oh no. My husband, myself and Miss Houseman ate together in the dining room and Brown would have his supper at the kitchen table. As my husband had not returned at six thirty, Miss Houseman and I ate ours – it was a cold supper that night – and my husband’s meal was left out in the dining room.’

  ‘And Brown’s supper?’

  ‘That was always left on the kitchen table, ready for him to eat whenever he had finished his chores.’

  ‘So both men’s suppers had been left out, pending their return. Pray continue, Mrs Morton.’

  ‘There had been a good lot of fruit picked in the preceding days and the maids had prepared it that afternoon, ready for us to make some jam when the temperature dropped a little, but after the maids had all gone home, I realised that we hadn’t got a jam pan, so I sent Ann off in the Essex car to borrow one from some of our neighbours. When she got back we sat in the garden for a while and then we went inside and Baby was fed and put to bed, and Ann started on the jam, while I did other small jobs about the farm and the house.’

  ‘Thank you. Kindly tell the court what happened next.’

  ‘Brown returned at about eight thirty. He drove the horse box straight down the drive and into the yard, where I was filling water buckets at the trough. He got down from the cab and asked me if the boss was in – that was what all the men called my husband. I said that he wasn’t. Brown then asked me where I had been that afternoon and I told him that I had been bathing, in the river at Wetherby.’

  Mr Paley Scott interposed with yet another of his useful little prompts. ‘I do not ask you for the name, but did you tell him that you had been bathing with a man?’

  No names, no pack drill, Ernest thought, with an inward smile. No one’s husband is going to have any explaining to do.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You told him the man’s name, and it was a name which would have been known to him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Me and half the ruddy county, Ernest thought.

  ‘What happened then?’

  ‘Brown flew into a rage. He got hold of me and pushed me into the mistal, then he banged my head against the wall and threw me on the floor. I was very much afraid of him and what he might do. I managed to get out into the yard, but he grabbed me again and tried to push me into the horsebox, and in desperation, I shouted for Ann. Then he grabbed me and pushed me into the barn. He had me pressed up against the wall and he had his hands on my throat, but at that moment we both heard Ann coming across the yard, so he pushed me away and put his finger to his lips.

  ‘Ann came then and asked me if I’d called. I said “no” and then I walked back to the house with her. She went into the kitchen, but I went straight up to the nursery. I had only been there a couple of minutes, when Ann came upstairs and said that Brown was in the kitchen, wanting to talk to me, but I told her that I couldn’t come down just then, and she went back downstairs.’

  ‘Why did you not go downstairs just then?’

  ‘I was trying to avoid Brown.’

  ‘And what happened next, Mrs Morton?’

  ‘After a few minutes, I went down to the kitchen and found that Brown was still in there, with Ann, so I asked him what he wanted to speak with me about and he told me about a cow he had fetched back in the horsebox and then he went outside. A few minutes later, he came back in again and asked me if I would go outside to help him put the ducks away for the night, but I said that I couldn’t as I was expecting a phone call from my father.’

  ‘Was that the real reason?’ Mr Paley Scott interposed, smooth and helpful as ever.

  ‘No. I told him that because I did not wish to go outside as I was frightened of him. He went out alone and I took up my sewing, while Ann carried on making the jam.’

  ‘And what was the next out of the ordinary thing to occur?’

  ‘We heard a shot.’

  ‘Were any guns kept at the farm?’

  ‘Only one. A shotgun which belonged to my husband. It was normally kept in the kitchen cupboard.’

  ‘You have no gun of your own?’

  ‘No, not at present. I had a shotgun at one time, but I have it no longer.’

  ‘So you heard a shot. Can you tell us any more about this shot and about what you did next?’

  ‘It sounded as if some pellets had hit the kitchen window. Until then I had not realised that anyone had taken the gun out of the cupboard. It was about half past nine by then and getting dark. Miss Houseman and I both jumped and ran out of the kitchen, and along the hall, to the front door.’

  ‘Why did you run towards the front door, when the shots had come from the other side of the house?�
�

  ‘We were frightened. We ran to the front door, to get away from Brown. I went and hid in the dining room, under the table, while Miss Houseman went back to the kitchen, but a few minutes later when I heard her talking to Brown in the kitchen, I went back in there too.’

  ‘Did you ask Brown what he had been doing with the gun?’

  ‘No. But Ann… Miss Houseman, asked him.’

  ‘She will tell us about that, in her evidence. What happened next?’

  ‘At about nine forty the telephone rang. Brown was not in the kitchen just then. Miss Houseman and I both went into the drawing room to answer it, and as we entered the drawing room, we saw Brown coming downstairs. Until then, neither of us had realised that he had gone upstairs.’

  ‘Should he have been upstairs?’

  ‘No. He had no right to be up there.’

  ‘Very well. Please continue. The telephone was ringing.’

  ‘Ann answered the telephone and it was someone wanting to speak with my husband. He was already well overdue, so Ann suggested that they should call back shortly – say in about fifteen minutes.

  ‘After that we went back to the kitchen and a few minutes later Brown came in and took the game knife – that is the knife with a white handle – from the drawer in the dresser. He took it outside for a couple of minutes, then brought it back and put it in the drawer. We were both expecting the telephone to ring again any minute, but it never did. Then Brown bobbed back out again and came in with the shotgun. He laid it on the dresser and sat down next to it and asked Ann to leave the room, as he had something he wanted to say to me alone.’

  ‘And what did Miss Houseman say to that?’

  ‘Ann said she would not go out. She told him that if he had anything to say, he could say it in front of her. He said something like, “It would be much better for you, if you went out,” but she still refused to go. Then he picked up the gun and sat looking at it. It was making us even more nervous, so Miss Houseman said to him, “Give me the gun.”’

  ‘And what was his reaction to that?’

  ‘Brown took the gun apart and started cleaning it. Before he did that, he offered it to Miss Houseman, but she declined to take hold of it. His expression was dreadful.’