Who Killed Stella Pomeroy? by Basil Thomson Read Free Book Online Page A

messenger in plain clothes entered the hall with a ticket in his hand and looked about him. He approached the two sitting in the window.
    â€œMr Milsom?” he asked. “Mr Morden is sorry to have kept you waiting. If you will follow me you may see him now.”
    The head of the department, whose room was on the second floor adjoining that of the commissioner, received his visitors with a weary smile of welcome. He had the appearance of a man who was grossly over-worked. He rose to shake hands, and Milsom introduced his companion Mitchell.
    â€œWe haven’t come to waste your time, but only to prevent if we can a serious miscarriage of justice. Probably you have not yet heard of the case, but no doubt it will come before you in due course.” He described as shortly as possible the position of affairs that had led to the arrest of Miles Pomeroy on the coroner’s warrant.
    â€œI don’t think that the case has come before me yet. I gather that you both disagree with the coroner’s jury.”
    â€œYes, we were present in the bungalow when Pomeroy discovered the body of his wife in the bathroom, and we were all convinced that he was not acting then. Besides, why should he have taken us, three strangers, into a house where he knew that his wife was lying dead? It would have been so easy for him to say that he was not letting the house and thus to give himself several hours in which to plan his escape.”
    â€œOr if he were a consummate actor he might have thought it a good way to prove his innocence.”
    â€œIf he was acting a part, then he would have made a fortune on the stage.”
    â€œI’m afraid that impressions of that kind would weigh very little with a judge and jury. Quite a number of criminals discover unexpected histrionic talent when they find themselves ‘up against it.’ If you’ve nothing but Pomeroy’s looks and demeanour to go upon I think that it would be wiser to leave the question of his guilt or innocence to the police.”
    â€œOf course you may think it presuming on our part to butt into one of your cases, but we have the excuse that we were among the first people to find the body in the bungalow, and in that way we were better qualified to judge of Pomeroy’s demeanour than anyone who gave evidence at the inquest.”
    â€œYou attended the inquest?” asked Morden in some surprise.
    â€œWe did, and we formed a definite opinion that Pomeroy was innocent. That is why we have come to you. Besides, the verdict of the jury was entirely against the coroner’s direction.”
    â€œWell then, if they refused to listen to the coroner he is bound to have reported the case to the home secretary and some action will be taken.”
    Morden half rose from his seat as a hint that their conference was at an end. The two visitors took the hint. “We mustn’t take up any more of your time,” said Milsom, opening the door to let Mitchell pass out. Then, half closing it, he turned to Morden, saying, “I fancy that that inspector of yours at Ealing will end by landing you in a mess. Why don’t you send that Superintendent Richardson down to take over the job before the local men mess it all up?”
    Morden laughed. “What you would really like to ask me is, ‘Why don’t you turn out of that chair and let me sit in it?’”
    â€œThe country might do worse.”
    â€œThe country has got on pretty well for the last few centuries with square men in round holes,” observed Morden with a quiet smile, but as soon as he was alone this did not prevent him from following his practice of clearing up each case as it came along. He rang up the chief constable of the C.I.D.
    â€œHave you had any report about a murder in one of those new building estates at Ealing, Mr Beckett—a man arrested for murder on the coroner’s warrant?”
    â€œI have a message on my table—just came in. Would