The Case Is Closed Read Online Free PDF

and said she would rather not say. She was told she must answer the question, whereupon she burst into tears and said it was something about a will.
    The Coroner: ‘Tell us exactly what you heard.’
    Mrs. Mercer, in tears: ‘I can’t say any more than what I heard.’
    The Coroner: ‘No one wants you to. I only want you to tell us what you did hear.’
    Mrs. Mercer: ‘Nothing that I could put words to — only their voices, and something about a will.’
    The Coroner: ‘Something about a will, but you don’t know what?’
    Mrs Mercer, sobbing hysterically: ‘No, sir.’
    The Coroner: ‘Give the witness a glass of water. Now, Mrs. Mercer, you say you heard the sound of voices in the study, and that you thought there was a quarrel going on. You have said that you recognised Mr. Geoffrey Grey’s voice. You are quite certain that it was Mr. Grey’s voice?’
    Mrs. Mercer: ‘Oh, sir — oh, sir, I don’t want to tell on Mr. Geoffrey.’
    The Coroner: ‘You are sure it was his voice?’
    Mrs. Mercer, with renewed sobs: ‘Oh, yes, sir. Oh, sir, I don’t know why I didn’t faint — the shot went off that loud on the other side of the door. And I screamed, and Mercer came running from his pantry.’
    Horribly damning evidence of Mrs. Mercer, corroborated by Alfred Mercer to the extent of his having heard the shot and his wife’s scream. He had tried the door and found it locked, and when Mr. Grey opened it he had a pistol in his hand, and Mr. Everton had been shot dead and was lying half across the desk.
    The Coroner: ‘Is this the pistol?’
    Mercer: ‘Yes, sir.’
    The Coroner: ‘Had you ever seen it before?’
    Mercer: ‘Yes, sir — it belongs to Mr. Grey.’
    Hilary’s heart beat hard with anger as she read. How was it possible for things to look so black against an innocent man? What must Geoff have felt like, having to sit there and see this black, black evidence piling up against him? At first he wouldn’t think it possible that anyone could believe it, and then he would begin to see them believing it. He would see them looking at him with a kind of horror in their eyes because they were believing that he had killed his own uncle in an angry quarrel over money.
    For a moment the horror touched Hilary. It wasn’t true. If everyone else in the world believed it, Hilary wouldn’t believe it. The Mercers were lying. Why? What motive could they possibly have? They had a good place, and good wages. Why should Mercer kill his master? Because that was what it came to. If they were lying about Geoffrey Grey, it must be to cover themselves. And there was no motive at all. There was no motive. They had a soft job which they had done nothing to forfeit. James Everton’s new will, signed the very morning of his death, made this perfectly clear. They had the same legacies as under the old will, ten pounds apiece for each year of service. And they had been there something under two years — the second ten pounds was not yet due. Does a man throw away a good job, and good prospects and commit murder into the bargain, for the sake of twenty pounds in hand between him and his wife?
    Hilary sat and thought about that… He might. Money and comfort are not everything. The dark motives of jealousy, hate, and revenge run counter to them, and in that clash security and self-interest may go down. But there would have to be such a motive. It had been looked for — it must have been looked for — but it had not been found. Hilary put it away to think about.
    She read Geoffrey’s evidence, and found it heart-breaking. His uncle had rung him up at eight o’clock. The other people who gave evidence kept saying ‘the deceased’, or ‘Mr. Everton’, but Geoffrey said ‘My uncle’. All through his evidence he said my uncle — ‘My uncle rang me up at eight o’clock. He said, “That you, Geoffrey? I want you to come down here at once —at once, my boy.” He sounded very much upset.’
    The Coroner: