Snare of Serpents (18 page)

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Then we must find her.”

“I know she went to London. She caught the London train. Hamish Vosper took her to the station.”

“London is a big place, but we must find her. It’s imperative to your case that we do. Now tell me about the student.”

“His name is James North. We met when I was lost in the wynds and we became friends.”

“I see. And it went on from there. You met secretly.”

“It was only my father who did not know of the meetings.”

“Your stepmother knew?”

“Yes, she was very sympathetic. Jamie came to dine. I think she suggested it.”

“And it was then that matters came to a head with your father who wanted you to marry Mr. McCrae?”

“Yes. Mr. McCrae had invited us to his house and was a fairly frequent visitor to ours.”

“He came to see you?”

“Well, he had not come much before.”

“He was the husband your father had chosen for you and he threatened to disinherit you if you married the student. You did not tell Mr. McCrae of your attachment to the student?”

“No … I was afraid of what my father would do and Jamie said we needed time.”

“I see. And this was the state of affairs when your father died of arsenic poisoning?”

He was frowning. I knew he was thinking that the case was black against me.

“Well,” he said, “we’ll get to work on this Declaration. We’ll marshall the facts … just as they really happened. We’ll present them simply and go on from there. The important thing is to find Ellen Farley. I’ll go and see your stepmother.”

He rose, smiled at me and held out his hand. I took it and said: “You do believe me, don’t you?”

He looked at me earnestly and replied: “I do indeed, and I am going to bring you out of this. Never fear.”

W
HILE
I
WAS AWAITING
my trial I saw Ninian Grainger frequently and he continued to be of more comfort to me than anyone. He had an air of buoyant confidence. Never once would he allow himself to visualise failure. It meant a great deal to me that he showed his belief in my innocence, though when I considered my declaration of what had led up to the tragedy there was so much which seemed to suggest my guilt.

But that had to be proved and I was awaiting the trial which was to take place two months after my arrest.

One cannot remain in a state of shock forever; and when I awoke in the morning it was no longer to unfamiliar surroundings. There was no longer that feeling of blankness as realisation of what had happened swept over me.

An ordeal lay before me and the passing of each day was a relief to me because it brought it nearer; and I longed for it to be over.

I had no idea what the outcome would be. Ninian Grainger was wonderful. He filled me with hope which I could not entirely believe in unless he was there. In his presence I had the utmost faith in him and myself.

I was allowed visitors, but I was never alone with them. There was a woman with sharp eyes and an alert manner sitting in a corner watching me all the time. She was not unkindly, just impersonal. I never knew whether she thought I was a murderess or an innocent victim of an evil fate.

She saw to my creature comforts to a certain extent, but there was no warmth in her. I began to regard her as an inanimate object, which was just as well in a way because it enabled me to talk more freely to my visitors when I had a chance to do so.

Zillah came. She was full of compassion. “This dreadful, dreadful business,” she said. “But it must come out right, Davina. Your very nice barrister seems to think so. He’s been to see me several times. He’s very eager to find Ellen. I told him that she’d come from London and I thought her mother was there.”

“And London’s a big place,” I said, echoing Ninian Grainger.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Mr. Grainger did go to London. He’s put a notice in the papers to see if he can trace her.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I expect so. These people do a marvellous job, don’t they? Oh, Davina … I do hope you’ll soon be home.”

“There’s the trial first. And do you think they’ll believe me?”

“I think that Ninian Grainger is very good. He’s young and full of energy. It means a good deal to him to get you off.”

“Yes, he’s in his father’s business. He hopes to be a partner and I suppose he wants to prove himself.”

“He wants that, of course. But it’s more than that. He really believes in you.”

“He has been very good to me. I don’t know what I should have done without him.”

She was silent.

“Zillah,” I said. “What’s it like at home?”

“It’s awful. They rush out and get the papers as soon as they hear the boys in the street. They’re always hoping there’ll be some news.”

“And you’re bearing it all!”

“You’re
doing very well, Davina.”

“I don’t know. I feel it is all so strange. I feel like another person. I keep going over it all. I keep thinking of everything that happened. Have you seen … Jamie?”

“He did come to the house. He seemed absolutely brokenhearted. He’ll come to see you, I think. He didn’t know
whether he should … whether it would be right. He’s just so shocked by the whole thing.”

“Who is not?”

“I wish there were something I could do.”

“They’ll ask you a lot of questions, Zillah.”

“I know. I’m dreading it.”

“I’m longing for it. I think waiting is one of the worst things about it. I want to get it over … even if …”

“Don’t say that,” said Zillah. “I can’t bear it.”

We were seated at a table facing each other, which was according to the regulations, and the watchdog was seated in a corner, her eyes discreetly averted.

Zillah gripped my hands.

“I’m thinking of you all the time,” she said. “It’s got to come out right. It
must.
Everyone must see that you couldn’t possibly do such a thing.”

J
AMIE CAME.
He looked like a different person. All the joy had gone out of him. He was pale and there were shadows under his eyes.

“Davina!” he said.

“Oh, Jamie, I’m so glad you came to see me.”

“This is terrible.”

“I know.”

“What will be the outcome?”

“We have to wait and see. The advocate is very optimistic.”

He put his hand to his forehead covering his eyes.

“Davina … they are saying the most terrible things.”

“I know.”

“You bought that arsenic. You signed for it. Your name is in that book with the date and everything … and soon after your father is dead … after you bought it.”

“I know that, Jamie. I’ve explained it all.”

“People are saying …”

“I can guess what they are saying, but Ninian Grainger is going to prove them wrong. He’s going to make them see the truth.”

“Can he?”

“He says he can, Jamie. And he must because it is the truth, Jamie. I believe you think … I did it.”

He hesitated for too long before he protested that of course he did not believe that.

“Your family?” I said. “What are they thinking?”

He bit his lip and did not answer.

“I suppose,” I went on, “it is not good for a minister to be caught up in this sort of thing … even if it is remotely.”

“Oh,” he said after a pause, “it is not good for anyone, is it?”

“I’m sorry, Jamie … so sorry to have involved you in this.”

He said: “I shall be called to give evidence at the trial. Everyone is talking about it. My fellow students … they think I know something. It’s horrible.”

“Yes, horrible things have happened to us both. But Mr. Grainger is sure everything will come right.”

“But … it will always be there, won’t it? People will remember.”

I stared at him in horror. I had not thought of that. I imagined that once Ninian Grainger had made the court agree with him that I was innocent, that would be an end of the matter. I would return home, marry Jamie and this would all become like a dream … not a recurring nightmare.

He had changed. He was remote. He was not the warmhearted lover I had known. Whatever he said there was doubt in his heart. I recoiled from him.

He was aware of this, but there was nothing he could do to hide his true feelings. We had changed towards each other.

The doubt was in his mind. It hung like a cloud between us; and for me there was the knowledge that the love he had had for me was not strong enough to bear this strain.

Jamie’s visit had not made me happier.

Alastair McCrae did not come to see me. I fancied he was congratulating himself that he was not sufficiently involved for the glare of publicity to alight on him; and he wanted to keep it like that.

M
Y TRIAL TOOK PLACE
in the High Court of Justiciary. I felt dazed. The courtroom was crowded and it seemed that the object of everyone present was to scrutinise me. I had been prepared by Ninian Grainger for what I must expect. I should stand at the bar and the Crown would state the case against me when the Defense would endeavour to prove the accusation wrong.

My feelings were so tumultuous that it is impossible to describe them. They changed from moment to moment. Innocence is the greatest defence. It gives courage. If one tells the truth, surely that must prevail. That thought remains with one all the time. It is the greatest ally.

I looked at the members of the jury—those who would decide my fate; and they gave me confidence.

Even at this stage, after the weeks of waiting for this day, there was an element of unreality about it all. I … Davina Glentyre, the young girl who had gone to church with her mother, was now the prisoner at the bar in a court of law accused of murdering her father.

How could it have come about? It must be a wild mad dream.

There was silence through the court while the indictment against me was read.

“Davina Scott Glentyre, now or lately prisoner in the prison of Edinburgh, you are indicted and accused at the instance of Her Majesty’s Advocate for Her Majesty’s interest: that albeit by the laws of this land and of every other well governed realm, the wickedly and felonious administering of arsenic, or other poisons, with intent to murder, is a crime of a heinous nature and severely punishable. Yet true it is that you, Davina Scott Glentyre, are guilty of the said crime …”

It went on detailing the evidence against me—most damning of which was, of course, my buying the arsenic at Henniker’s shop, my signature in the poison book being an important piece of evidence.

Then came the witnesses.

Dr. Dorrington explained how Mr. Kirkwell, the butler, called him in the early hours of the morning. He was not surprised because Mr. Glentyre had, over a few months, suffered
from bilious attacks. He had expected to find this just another, perhaps more severe than the previous ones, and he had felt it was unnecessary to call him out at such an hour. However, he had been shocked on arriving at the house to find Mr. Glentyre dead.

“Did you examine him?”

“Briefly. I saw at once that there was nothing I could do for him.”

“Did you suspect poison?”

“I thought there was something unusual about his sudden death.”

Other doctors followed. There was Dr. Camrose, professor of chemistry at the University. He had examined certain of the deceased’s organs and had found undoubted traces of arsenic. Another doctor was called and confirmed this. He said there had been a final dose which had resulted in death and which had obviously been taken in port wine. But there were traces of arsenic in the body which suggested that it had been taken over some little time.

There followed a great many scientific references which I was sure none but the specialists understood; but the fact emerged that my father had died through arsenical poisoning and that he had been taking it in smaller quantities over some time.

The doctors were asked if it were a common practise to take arsenic.

“It is said to have rejuvenating powers,” replied the doctor. He had known men take it for that reason. Women used it here and there, he believed, because it was thought to be good for the complexion. It was a dangerous practise.

At length it was time for the people I knew to take their places. I was alert, watchful of them. It seemed so strange to see them there, though stranger still for them, I supposed, to see me where I was.

On trial for murder! It was not the sort of thing one would think could ever happen to oneself. That sort of drama was for other people. And now here we all were … people who had known each other over the years … ordinary, simple people… all here in the centre of the stage, with the whole of Scotland … and perhaps beyond … watching us.

I could imagine the excitement which people were feeling. A young girl on trial for her life!