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THE GODDESS: A DEMON'S VENGEANCE
CHAPTER 19. I LEAVE THE COURT

CHAPTER 19. I LEAVE THE COURT

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The coroner seemed to dislike me the moment I stepped up to the table, probably because he was one of those small men who instinctively resent anyone of a decent height. My stature has been a disadvantage more than once, and it certainly didn’t help me here. Everyone in the room seemed ready to enjoy my embarrassment. They didn’t have to wait long; I messed up almost right away.

A small man who said he was representing the Treasury started questioning me. He could have been the coroner’s cousin, with the same sandy hair and annoyed expression. His initial questions were straightforward, but they quickly became the kind that I would have preferred to ignore entirely. He had a habit of fiddling with a piece of paper as he spoke, his voice thin but piercing, reminding me of the sound of wood being sawed. He kept his eyes on my face, scanning every feature as if not wanting to miss a twitch. He was like a determined terrier, relentless and irritating. I wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him.

He asked if Edwin Lawrence was a friend of mine, how long I had known him, what I knew about him, and when I had last seen him. I told him about our card game but was surprised he didn’t mention my loss or the terms on which we parted.

Here’s where I started blundering. I wanted the court to understand that when we parted, we were on terrible terms, and I was in just the right mood to commit murder. But Jordan—the little terrier fellow—cut me off. He told me to stick to answering his questions and said I could make a statement later if the court allowed it. I wanted to explain right then, but with him, the coroner, and the idiot foreman all against me, I never got the chance.

Jordan kept control. Then came the real struggle with his next question. He asked if I had been disturbed in the night after going to bed. I saw an opportunity. I said I had, by a dream. But when I tried to explain the dream, he cut me off.

“Never mind about the dream. Dreams are not evidence.”

Some of the audience laughed. I had no idea what was funny. I would have liked to give them a real reason to laugh.

“But my dream is evidence—very much evidence. If you let me explain, it will shed more light—”

“Thank you. But were you disturbed by anything other than a dream? For instance, by someone coming through your bedroom window?”

“I was not.”

“Mr. Ferguson, be careful. Do you say that no one came through your window?”

“I said no one disturbed me.”

“I see. You’re particular about the phrasing. Let me rephrase. Did anyone come through your bedroom window after you went to bed?”

“I decline to answer. It’s none of your business. I can have whatever visitors I choose.”

“Are you suggesting someone visited you in your bedroom, alone, at that hour? Think about what you’re implying.”

“I never said anyone came.”

“You pretty much did. But let’s get it straight. Who came through your bedroom window, Mr. Ferguson?”

Beads of sweat were forming on my forehead.

“I told you,” I shouted, “I’m not answering that!”

Jordan turned to the coroner. “Mr. Coroner, if I may explain, the police have evidence implicating a specific person. The witness knows this and is being obstructive. He’s even claimed guilt himself, which is obviously false and intended to mislead the police and undermine his own testimony. His testimony is crucial, and I need your help to prevent a miscarriage of justice due to his refusal to cooperate.”

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“Certainly. Witness, you will answer any proper questions put to you, promptly and without evasion.”

“I think that’s up to me,” I retorted.

The coroner banged his hand on the table. “Don’t speak to me like that, sir, or you’ll find yourself in contempt of court.”

“Commit.”

I would have liked to commit an assault on the coroner. But he ignored my challenge and turned to Jordan.

“Ask your question again. I’m astonished that someone of the witness’s apparent standing would behave so disgracefully.”

“Mr. Ferguson, did anyone come through your bedroom window after you went to bed?”

“And I say to you, Mr. Jordan, you have my sympathy in your position. Maybe if I asked you a few questions, it might break the monotony?”

“You hear that, Mr. Coroner?”

“I do. And I regret that such behavior is being treated lightly.” A titter went around the room. “One more sound like that, and I’ll clear the court. Witness, look at me.”

“If you wish, though there’s not much to look at.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?”

“No offense, Mr. Coroner. Just stating a fact.”

“Have you been drinking, sir?”

“That’s an insolent question. Can’t an official person be courteous?”

“Your behavior is highly unusual. You clearly don’t grasp the seriousness of this situation. Are you aware that if you refuse to answer these questions, I can have you jailed for contempt of court?”

“I don’t see why I should answer impertinent questions, no matter the circumstances.”

“Don’t argue with me. Will you answer the question that counsel has put to you?”

“My dear Mr. Coroner—”

“I commit you for contempt. Officer, arrest this man.”

“If the officer is smart, he’ll think twice before doing something so foolish,” I retorted.

Hume, who was sitting opposite, leaned toward me across the table. “Are you out of your mind? What do you hope to achieve by going to jail? Or by dodging these questions? You’ll have to speak sooner or later. Speak now! Tell the truth! It’s the only way to help her.”

Jordan interjected, still twirling a scrap of paper in his fingers. “Mr. Coroner, could you hold off on the arrest for a moment? Perhaps Mr. Ferguson might reconsider after hearing this gentleman’s sensible advice. Don’t you think, sir, that you should listen?”

I laughed. “Alright, I’ll answer your questions.”

“That’s better. I assure you, I don’t wish to hurt your feelings. I understand and respect them. But I have a job to do, and so do you. You won’t hurt anyone by just telling the truth.”

“Spare me the lecture.”

“Now, tell me—did anyone come through your bedroom window after you went to bed?”

“No one.”

“Do you swear to that?”

“Absolutely. Miss Bessie Moore did not come through my window.”

“Certainly not. How dare you drag her name into this?”

“Was she in your rooms at all that night?”

“She was not.”

“Did you go up, between one and two in the morning, to tell the housekeeper she had come through your window?”

“I did not.”

“Did the housekeeper come down and find her in your room?”

“She did not.”

“Did Miss Bessie Moore spend the night in the housekeeper’s apartments?”

“I can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

“Are you aware you’ve sworn to tell the truth?”

“I am.”

“Do you understand the consequences of perjury?”

“Don’t measure others’ knowledge by your own ignorance.”

“As you wish. At least we know we’re not dealing with someone completely illiterate. Have you seen this cloak before, Mr. Ferguson?”

From a bag which Inspector Symonds produced from beneath the table, he pulled out the plum-colored cloak I had expected.

“Yes, I have.”

“Where?”

“In my room. And on my cousin’s back.”

“Your cousin? Not Miss Moore?”

“Certainly not.”

“You’ve never seen Miss Moore wearing it?”

“Never.”

“To the best of your knowledge, this isn’t Miss Moore’s cloak?”

“Correct.”

“Do you swear to that?”

“You’ve already reminded me I’m under oath.”

“Just making sure you remember, Mr. Ferguson. So, if Miss Moore claims this cloak is hers, she’s lying?”

“When she makes such a claim, we can discuss it then. Let’s not speculate.”

“Fine. No more questions for now, Mr. Ferguson. But don’t think I’m done with you. Mr. Coroner, this witness has been lying to obstruct justice. I request that we keep a close watch on him.”

“He will be detained.”

“Detained?” I laughed, buttoning my coat. I walked out, and people parted like I had the plague. Maybe they saw something in my demeanor that they didn’t like. A constable stood at the entrance. I gestured for him to move aside, and he did. I noticed a key in the lock on the outside of the door. An idea struck me. The door was solid, not easily forced from the inside. I shut it, locked it, and pocketed the key. Then I walked down the stairs and out into the street.

For all I knew, the court continued its session.