Page 88 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And each of them said … ?’

The notes were consulted. ‘Mr Keenswell said, “Go away, I’m dying. Oh, my God! No, it wasn’t bloody well me.” He was the gentleman being sick, sir. And the other one, Captain Bracegirdle, said, “Not me. Don’t just stand there, you bloody clown, do something. I’m not responsible for this mess.”’

‘And what did Mr Tallant say?’

‘He was unconscious, sir.’

‘So you couldn’t ask him.’ Carson smiled encouragingly. ‘Tell me, Constable – you are an officer of some experience, I believe?’

‘Twenty-three years, sir. And four months.’

‘Indeed. And you must on many occasions have confronted people on the scene of some misdemeanour or felony. Let us say, for example, a man climbing out of a window with a sack full of silver. If you confronted him and asked, “Did you just steal those things, my man?” would you expect him to say, “Yes, indeed, Constable, I did”? Or would he be more likely to say, “Not me. I didn’t do it”?’

More laughter. The magistrate said, ‘The officer is not required to speculate on hypothetical cases, Mr Carson.’

‘Indeed, Your Honour. I withdraw the question. Constable, in your experience, is it usual for people, when you question them, to say they are innocent, whether they are or not?’

‘More often than not, sir,’ the constable admitted.

‘So if Mr Tallant had been conscious, he would probably also have said, “It wasn’t me”?’

‘Speculation again, Mr Carson,’ said the magistrate.

But the constable answered anyway. ‘Young gentlemen always say it wasn’t them,’ he said sourly. ‘Especially when they’ve had a few. I had one last week snatched my helmet off, told me to my face he hadn’t got it when I could see it there in his hand—’

‘Thank you, Constable,’ Carson stopped him. ‘To sum up, then, you concluded that Mr Tallant must have been the driver simply because the other two gentlemen denied it was them?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said the constable, sulkily. He could see where this was going.

‘But you had no opportunity to question Mr Tallant because he was unconscious.’

‘No, sir.’

‘And when the motor-car passed you earlier, it was going too fast for you to recognise the faces.’

‘I bet it was him, all the same,’ the constable muttered.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Carson said exquisitely. The constable said nothing. ‘Please look at Mr Tallant, Constable, and tell me categorically whether you can swear on your oath that he was driving the motor-car as it passed you.’

The policeman looked at Richard with loathing, but was obliged to say, ‘No, sir. I can’t swear it was him.’

Carson looked at the magistrate. ‘Your honour, we have all heard Mr Tallant say that he has no recollection of driving the motor-car. Indeed, he had never driven one prior to that day and so had no knowledge of how to go about it.’

Outside, Richard blinked gratefully in the sunlight of freedom, and thanked Carson. ‘Nothing to it,’ Carson said. ‘Lewthwaite was right to dismiss the case. Always a pleasure to see an innocent man walk free.’

‘But—’

‘You have no recollection of driving the car, have you?’

‘No,’ said Richard.

‘There you are, then.’

‘I do wonder, though,’ Richard said a little peevishly, ‘that neither of them – Keenswell and Bracegirdle – has come near me since the accident. Not a note, not so much as a grape. They might at least have come today and given me moral support in court.’

‘Possibly just as well for you that they didn’t,’ Carson said, with a cheerful grin, and scuttled off to another case.