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The Land Of Mist - Doyle Arthur Conan - Страница 22


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«Is this case defended?» asked Mr. Melrose.

«Yes, your worship,» said Summerway Jones. «May I, before it opens, make an objection?»

«If you think it worth while, Mr. Jones.»

«I beg to respectfully request your ruling before the case is proceeded with. My client is not a vagrant, but a respectable member of the community, living in his own house, paying rates and taxes, and on the same footing as every other citizen. He is now prosecuted under the fourth section of the Vagrancy Act of 1824, which is styled, 'An Act for punishing idle and disorderly persons, and rogues and vagabonds'. The Act was intended, as the words imply, to restrain lawless gipsies and others, who at that time infested the country. I ask your worship to rule that my client is clearly not a person within the purview of this Act or liable to its penalties.»

The magistrate shook his head.

«I fear, Mr. Jones, that there have been too many precedents for the Act to be now interpreted in this limited fashion. I will ask the solicitor prosecuting on behalf of the Commissioner of Police to put forward his evidence.» A little bull of a man with side-whiskers and a raucous voice sprang to his feet.

«I call Henrietta Dresser.»

The elder policewoman popped up in the box with the alacrity of one who is used to it. She held an open notebook in her hand.

«You are a policewoman, are you not?»

«Yes, sir.»

«I understand that you watched the prisoner's home the day before you called on him?»

«Yes, sir.»

«How many people went in?»

«Fourteen, sir.»

«Fourteen people. And I believe the prisoner's average fee is ten and sixpence.»

«Yes.»

«Seven pounds in one day! Pretty good wages when many an honest man is content with five shillings.»

«These were the tradespeople!» cried Linden.

«I must ask you not to interrupt. You are already very efficiently represented» said the magistrate severely.

«Now, Henrietta Dresser,» continued the prosecutor, wagging his pince-nez. «Let's hear what occurred when you and Amy Bellinger visited the prisoner.»

The policewoman gave an account which was in the main true, reading it from her book. She was not a married woman, but the medium had accepted her statement that she was. He had fumbled with several names and had seemed greatly confused. The name of a dog – Pedro had been submitted to him, but he had not recognized it as such. Finally, he had answered questions as to the future of her alleged daughter, who was, in fact, no relation to her, and had foretold that she would be unhappy in her marriage.

«Any questions, Mr. Jones?» asked the magistrate.

«Did you come to this man as one who needed consolation? And did he attempt to give it?»

«I suppose you might put it so.»

«You professed deep grief, I understand.»

«I tried to give that impression.»

«You do not consider that to be hypocrisy?»

«I did what was my duty.»

«You saw no signs of psychic power, or anything abnormal?» asked the prosecutor.

«No, he seemed a very nice, ordinary sort of man.»

Amy Bellinger was the next witness. She appeared with her notebook in her hand.

«May I ask, your worship, whether it is in order that these witnesses should read their evidence?» asked Mr. Jones.

«Why not?» queried the magistrate. «We desire the exact facts» do we not?»

«We do. Possibly Mr. Jones does not,» said the prosecuting solicitor.

«It is clearly a method of securing that the evidence of these two witnesses shall be in accord,» said Jones. «I submit that these accounts are carefully prepared and collated.»

«Naturally, the police prepare their case,» said the magistrate. «I do not see that you have any grievance, Mr. Jones. Now, witness, let us hear your evidence.»

It followed on the exact lines of the other.

«You asked questions about your fiance? You had no fiance,» said Mr. Jones.

«That is so.»

«In fact, you both told a long sequence of lies?»

«With a good object in view.»

«You thought the end justified the means?»

«I carried out my instructions.»

«Which were given you beforehand?»

«Yes, we were told what to ask.»

«I think,» said the magistrate, «that the policewomen have given their evidence very fairly and well. Have you any witnesses for the defence, Mr. Jones?»

«There are a number of people in court, your worship, who have received great benefit from the mediumship of the prisoner. I have subpoenaed one woman who was, by her own account, saved from suicide that very morning by what he told her. I have another man who was an atheist, and had lost all belief in future life. He was completely converted by his experience of psychic phenomena. I can produce men of the highest eminence in science and literature who will testify to the real nature of Mr. Linden's powers.»

The magistrate shook his head.

«You must know, Mr. Jones, that such evidence would be quite beside the question. It has been clearly laid down by the ruling of the Lord Chief Justice and others that the law of this country does not recognize supernatural powers of any sort whatever, and that a pretence of such powers where payment is involved constitutes a crime in itself. Therefore your suggestion that you should call witnesses could not possibly lead to anything save a wasting of the time of the court. At the same time, I am, of course, ready to listen to any observations which you may care to make after the solicitor for the prosecution has spoken.»

«Might I venture to point out, your worship,» said Jones, «that such a ruling would mean the condemnation of any sacred or holy person of whom we have any record, since even holy persons have to live, and have therefore to receive money.»

«If you refer to Apostolic times, Mr. Jones,» said the magistrate sharply, «I can only remind you that the Apostolic age is past and also that Queen Anne is dead. Such an argument is hardly worthy of your intelligence. Now, sir, if you have anything to add . . .»

Thus encouraged the prosecutor made a short address, stabbing the air at intervals with his pince-nez as if every stab punctured afresh all claims of the spirit. He pictured the destitution among the working-classes, and yet charlatans, by advancing wicked and blasphemous claims, were able to earn a rich living. That they had real powers was, as had been observed, beside the question, but even that excuse was shattered by the fact that these policewomen, who had discharged an unpleasant duty in a most exemplary way, had received nothing but nonsense in return for their money. Was it likely that other clients fared an better? These parasites were increasing in number, trading upon the finer feelings of bereaved parents, and it was high time that some exemplary punishment should warn them that they would be wise to turn their hands to some more honest trade.

Mr. Summerway Jones replied as best he might. He began by pointing out that the Acts were being used for a purpose for which they were never intended. («That point has already been considered!» snapped the magistrate.) The whole position was open to criticism. The convictions were secured by evidence from agents-provocateurs, who, if any crime had been committed, were obviously inciters to it and also participants. The fines obtained were often deflected for purposes in which the police had a direct interest.

«Surely, Mr. Jones, you do not mean to cast a reflection upon the honesty of the police!»

The police were human, and were naturally inclined to stretch a point where there own interests were affected. All these cases were artificial. There was no record at any time of any real complaint from the public or any demand for protection. There were frauds in every profession, and if a man deliberately invested and lost a guinea in a false medium he had no more right to protection than the man who invested his money in a bad company on the stock market. Whilst the police were wasting time upon such cases, and their agents were weeping crocodile tears in the character of forlorn mourners, many of her branches of real crime received far less attention than they deserved. The law was quite arbitrary in its action. Every big garden-party, even, as he had been informed, every police fete was incomplete without its fortune-teller or palmist.

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Doyle Arthur Conan - The Land Of Mist The Land Of Mist
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