As the Earth Turns Silver Read Online Free PDF Page B

was tall and wore a long, light overcoat. Only then did he notice a Chinaman lying on the footpath twenty to twenty-five feet from where the man had been standing.
    Terry looked on implacably. He had no questions for Mr Harris or for the next witness, Constable Fitzgerald.
    Now Joe Duck, a resident of Haining Street, was sworn in. Joe Duck . What kind of name is that? Donald watched the scorn on Terry’s face as the interpreter lit a match, handed it to Duck, mumbled something unintelligible and waited for him to blow it out.
    Duck had lengthy discussions with the interpreter.
    â€˜We need an interpreter for the interpreter,’ the Prosecutor said.
    Donald, Terry and half the court snickered.
    If the interpreter was to be believed, the Chinaman saw a man in a light overcoat fire a gun in Haining Street. The man who fired walked off. The man who fell was Joe Kum-yung.
    For the first time Terry asked questions. WAs Joe Kum-yung taller than Duck? How tall was Duck, how many English feet were there in five Chinese feet . . .
    Donald smiled. Confound the bugger with irrelevant questions.
    Dr Ewart gave evidence that death was caused by injury to the brain from the bullet wound.
    Then Ngan Ping of Molesworth Street swore on the Bible and spoke without an interpreter. One Friday night Terry had come into Number 5 Haining Street where Ping and others were playing cards.
    â€˜You were gambling,’ Terry said.
    Yes. Undermine his credibility – that of every Chinaman – by revealing his criminal nature.
    â€˜No gambling,’ the Chink said. ‘Only Chinese cash. Cannot spend it here,’
    â€˜Are you a Christian?’ Terry asked.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜You believe the Bible is better than your own religion?’
    Ha! As Terry continued to interrogate, he reminded Donald of a boy pulling off the wings, then the legs of a fly.
    Now Constable Young and Inspector Ellison stated that Terry had come into the station and given up his revolver. He’d shot a Chinaman to call attention to the evil of alien immigration. He’d signed a written statement.
    Damn.
    Horace Clare Waterfield, Private Secretary to His Excellency the Governor, produced the letter which His Excellency had received through the post the morning after Joe Kum-yung was shot. The letter, signed ‘Lionel Terry, British subject’, stated that to protect the rights of Britons against alien immigration he had ‘deemed it necessary to put a Chinaman to death’ that evening in the Chinese quarter known as Haining Street.
    Oh damn.
    Terry cross-examined Dr Martin as to the nature of the wound, and the Crown closed its case.
    Terry declined to call evidence. He had nothing to give except a short statement.
    Donald leaned forward in his seat.
    Terry pulled out a thick pile of papers and addressed the jury. He objected to His Majesty being placed in the position of protector of unnaturalised race aliens, he said. He was surprised at the number of Asiatic witnesses and officials. Evidently the vast difference between European and Asiatic veracity had yet to be realised. The evidence given by the Chinese witnesses, especially that of Ngan Ping, the Christian, was distinctly Asiatic in quality, and he suspected the Chinese interpreter of being more shrewd than honest. Although in any other case he would decline to reply to a charge in which so many aliens were concerned – he glanced at Donald – he had brought this charge against himself for the purpose of protesting against this very evil.
    Not entirely unreasonable.
    Terry denied emphatically that he was the victim of an insane delusion or that his intellect had been impaired by sunstroke or any other ailment.
    No.
    Donald stared at Terry. Of course he agreed with Terry about the Chinese, but this was a capital charge. Surely it would be easier to excuse his action if there were some underlying condition. Something as innocent as sunstroke.
    Terry continued with a