‘Angry?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘No — not with me —I don’t know. He sounded all worked up, but certainly not with me, or he wouldn’t have called me “my boy”. I said, “Is anything the matter?” And he said, “I can’t talk about it on the telephone. I want you to come down here — as quickly as you can.” And then he hung up.’
The Coroner: ‘You went down?
Geoffrey Grey: ‘At once. It takes me about a quarter of an hour from door to door. I get a bus at the end of my road which takes me to within a quarter of a mile of his gate.’
The Coroner: ‘Mr. and Mrs. Mercer have said that you did not ring the bell. They say that the front door was locked. You did not, therefore, go in that way?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘It was a fine warm evening, and I knew the study window would be open —it’s a glass door really, opening into the garden. I should always go in that way if my uncle was at home and I wanted to see him.’
The Coroner: ‘You were in the habit of going to see him?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘Constantly.’
The Coroner: ‘You lived with him at Solway Lodge until the time of your marriage?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘Yes.’
The Coroner: ‘I must ask you, Mr. Grey, whether your relations with your uncle were of a cordial nature?’
At this point the witness appeared distressed. He said in a low voice, ‘Very cordial — affectionate.’
The Coroner: ‘And there had been no quarrel?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘No — none.’
The Coroner: ‘Then how do you account for his destroying the will under which you benefited and making a new will in which your name does not appear?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘I can’t account for it.’
The Coroner: ‘You know that he made a new will on the morning of July 16th?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘I know it now — I didn’t know it then.’
The Coroner: ‘You didn’t know it when you went to see him?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘No.’
The Coroner: ‘Or that he had destroyed the will under which you benefited? You are on oath, Mr. Grey. Do you still say that you did not know of any change in his will?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘I had no idea.’
The Coroner: ‘He did not tell you about it over the telephone?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘No.’
The Coroner: ‘Or after you got down to Putney?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘When I got down to Putney he was dead.’
The Coroner: ‘You say you reached Solway Lodge at twenty minutes past eight?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘It would be about that. I didn’t look at the time.’
The Coroner: ‘The house stands by itself in about two acres of ground, and is approached by a short drive?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘Yes.’
The Coroner: ‘Will you tell us how you approached the house?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘I came up the drive which leads to the front door, but I didn’t go up to the door — I turned to the right and skirted the house. The study is at the back, with a glass door leading into the garden. The door was wide open, as I expected it to be.’
A Juryman: ‘Were the curtains drawn?’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘Oh, no. It was broad daylight — very fine and warm.’
The Coroner: ‘Go on, Mr. Grey. You entered the study — ’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘I went in. I was expecting my uncle to meet me. I didn’t see him at once. It was much darker in the room than it was outside. I stumbled over something, and saw the pistol lying on the ground at my feet. I picked it up without thinking what I was doing. And then I saw my uncle.’
The Juryman: ‘First you said it was broad daylight, and now you say it was dark in the room. We’d like to hear something more about that.’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘I didn’t say it was dark in the room — I said it was darker than it was outside. It was very bright outside, and I’d had the sun in my eyes coming round the house.’
The Coroner: ‘Go, on, Mr. Grey. You say you saw Mr. Everton — ’
Geoffrey Grey: ‘He had fallen across his desk. I thought he had fainted. I went nearer, and I saw that he was dead. I touched