The Case Of The Berkshire Hog by Robert F. Clifton (love story novels in english TXT) 📖

shipments of rubber heels to any or all cobblers in Chelmsford and Essex from say, 1920 to 1926. If I’m right it may opened another door. Draper had traced the rubber heel that made the print on the farm house floor. Now, we need to tie the shipment of the Donlop heel to that cobbler. Keep in mind that we still have to meet with Helen Bell and since the missing floor boards have been mentioned we’ll need another meeting with Sergeant Draper.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

Helen Bell

 

Several weeks went by. During that time Basil Morgan appeared in court. Alistair Basham lectured at university and Joyce Basham returned from Plymouth. On her first day back home Alistair asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No. The iron age village is there, but it seems that those that lived there at that time lived off of the Channel. Many oyster shells were found. The bones that were thought to be human were from English Channel dolphins,” Joyce explained.

“I see. Still, I’m sure you enjoyed yourself love,” said Basham.

“Naturally. It is what I do.”

“I’m sure that another opportunity and another dig will present itself. Just be patient.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“You still have a teaching position at university”.

“I know, but it’s not the same. Meanwhile, how are you making out with the investigation of the dead farmer?”

“We have some rather good leads. However, nothing concrete as yet that would prove the innocence of Mr. Mercer.”

“I’m sure you will dear. Practice what you preach. Be patient.”

“Touche.”

Two days later Basham received a telephone call from Morgan. “I called to let you know that Helen Bell is coming into London on Monday. Are you available?”, he asked.

“Yes. What time?”

“Again, ten in the morning should do it. Is there anything in particular you want to talk to her about?,” asked the barrister.

“Yes. I’m mainly interested at this point about hog hairs since they seem to be what convinced the jury in the case.”

“Fine. I’ll give her a return ring and let her know. That way she’ll be prepared.”

“Jolly good. See you on Monday.”

“Cheerio,” said Morgan before hanging up the telephone receiver.

Monday morning,caught in the London, morning traffic Basham arrived late at Morgan’s office. “My apologies. Traffic this morning is bloody awful”, he said as he entered. He saw a rather good looking blond woman seated next to Morgan’s desk. “No need for introductions. You must be Helen Bell and I’m the old bloke both of you have been waiting for”, said Alistair as he took a seat.

“Mrs. Bell, Doctor Basham”, said Morgan.

“Nice to meet you doctor. My brother has described you very well”, said Helen Bell.

“Other than old, wrinkled and walks with a limp there isn’t much more to identify. How was your drive from Chelmsford? I hope we are not imposing on you”, said Basham.

“No, as a matter of fact I come into London at least once a month to shop. So, after we’re done here I’m off to the boutiques.”

“Excellent. Now, I’m sure that Basil has told you of my need to talk to you about the subject of hog’s hair”, said Alistair.

“Yes, he did. It is a by-product that at one time was an additional source of income for the farm. Now days buyers purchase hogs hair from the slaughter houses. I brought a sample to show you what we sold at one time,” said Helen, as she handed Alistair a tanned pigskin containing long, black and brown, stiff hairs.

“And these are off of the Berkshire hogs that you and your brother raise?”, asked Basham.

“ No, at one time we also raised the Magalitsa hog. I’m sure that Harry told you that our father raised Berkshire hogs while other farms raised Yorkshire in the area. As you know the Berkshire is consider the best breed for producing meat for consumption. We did away with the Magalitsa breed years ago said Helen Bell.

“Yes he did. Nonetheless, at present Mr. Morgan and I feel that your father’s wrongful conviction was due to the introduction of hog’s hair at his trail. As you probably know three strands of Berkshire hog hair was found at the crime scene. The question then arises, if your father didn’t carry that particular breed of hogs hair into Fleming’s house, then who did?”

“I don’t know Doctor Basham, but that’s why my brother and I have retained Mr. Morgan. I will say this. We have been fighting the Crown for almost fifteen years in an attempt to clear our father’s name. It is our opinion that the Crown, if we are correct, will have to pay for hanging an innocent man. Financial retribution is not our goal. Justice is what we are after. However, if financial compensation is part of justice, then so be it. Now, if there are no other questions I shall be going,” said Helen.

“I certainly have none”, said Morgan

“I have just one more. May we keep the hog hair sample for a bit longer? I’d like to study them further”, said Basham.

“Please take your time with the sample. As I said, most hog hair buyers buy at the slaughter houses now days,” said Helen Bell upon leaving.

After Helen left the office Morgan asked, “Well, where do we go from here?”

“Have you heard anything from Fillmore ?”, asked Alistair.

“No. not yet.”

“What have you done about the missing floor boards?”

“I’ve filed a brief with the court requesting that the police produce either the evidence or reports and/or photographs of the evidence to me.”

“Including the missing floor boards?”

“Naturally.”

“Excellent. Let me know when Fillmore appears. When he does send him to Sergeant Draper. See if the man can remember anything about the boards, where they went and possibly where they are,” Basham instructed.

“What are you going to do?”, asked Morgan.

“Research and examine this sample of hog’s hair.”

***************

Two weeks later Derrick Fillmore walked into Basil Morgan’s office. “ I spoke to the old, Sergeant. He says after the trial the boards was never sent back to the Chelmsford Headquarters and placed in the evidence room. What happened to them after all these years he has no idea. I also questioned him about why he hadn’t mentioned the floor boards when he was here. His answer was that he thought he did when he elaborated about the heel print and hogs hair”, said the investigator.

“Alright. I doubt if they’re still in existence. But we’ll see when the court reviews my brief in the matter,”Morgan replied,

“Anything else you want me to do?,” asked Fillmore.

“Yes, go back to Essex. Ask around. See if you can find anyone who worked for Fleming or their relatives,” said Morgan.

“Right. And, just where would I start?”

“Try the pubs. Usually the bartender knows his frequent and steady customers. He’ll know just about everything about them, including where they work now and where they use to work. Ask about field hands”, said Morgan.

“No problem, except I can’t sit in a pub with an empty glass. At the same time I can’t ask the barkeep for a receipt,” said Fillmore.

“So, you need the necessary funds to visit the pubs and gather information I take it”, Morgan replied.

“Thank you for understanding,” said Fillmore with a smile.

“Very well, but I better not see any charges for drinks on your expense account when you submit it. By the way, on my time and with my money you drink beer, understood?”

“I hear you all the way Mr. Morgan. All the way.”

While Morgan was meeting with Fillmore, Alistair sat at home at his desk examining and re-examining the hog hair sample given to him by Helen Bell. Joyce Basham watching him asked, “What’s so fascinating about pig hair?”

Looking up from studying the sample Basham answered, “Several things. First, the color. The hairs in this sample are black and brown. Yet, the Berkshire Hog, traditionally is black with white hairs on it’s snout, feet and tail. As I recall Sergeant Draper stated that the laboratory test indicated that the hairs found at the Fleming murder scene were identified as coming from a Berkshire Hog.”

“Since we’re on the subject of pigs and pork what do you think of ham for supper one evening?”, asked Joyce.

“Not too much. I still have the taste of Spam in my mouth.

I’m sure you remember how much of that pork product we had to eat during the war.”

“We had to eat oleo, but you still eat that”.

“True, but that’s because it’s more healthy for the heart than butter.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your heart and you know it”.

“Ah, now you are a physician.”

“I know that for a man of your age you’re as healthy as a horse.”

“A horse that’s heading out to pasture.”

“Besides you receiving the hog hair samples, is there anything new in your investigation?”, asked Joyce.

“Not really. After twenty five years evidence gets lost, witnesses die or move away. It appears now that what I’m looking for is in all probability contained in several hundred pages of police reports and court transcripts. I go over them a bit when I have the time. So far, nothing has caught my eye.”

“Perhaps I could help you. Just tell me what to look for.”

“An excellent idea love. I’ll study the police and evidence reports. You can read the court transcripts. Right now I’m concentrating on the hog hairs that were taken as evidence and presented in court against Mercer. Anytime you see the hairs mentioned mark it so I can view what you found.”

“I must say, that seems easy enough.”

“Evidently, you’ve never read court transcripts before. Boring, very boring.”

“I think I’ll survive. I’ll start after we do the supper dishes.”

“And, may I inquire just what supper will be this evening?”, asked Alistair.

“Butter and garlic prawns with crusty bread and a green salad.”

“Sounds jolly good.”

***************

Three days later Derrick Fillmore sat in Basil Morgan’s office. “I thought I’d come in to tell you in person what I have learned over there in Essex,” said Fillmore.

“I hope that it’s something worthwhile”, Morgan replied.

“That’s for you to decide mate. Here it is. Seems that Roger Fleming was a mean bloke. He didn’t have any friends that anyone can remember. He did however have two enemies. One was Silas Mercer the other a chap named Henry.”

“Henry who?”

“Don’t know. People I talked with just remember him telling his workers to keep a bloke named Henry off of the property. You already know about the feud with Mercer.”

“Just who were you talking to in Essex?”

“The son of Albert Miller, John Miller. Albert Miller was the foreman on the Fleming farm. Albert himself is dead, but his son remembers his father talking about the murder.”

“Did he happen to give you any idea why Fleming was killed?”

“Same as everyone else familiar with the case. Mercer killed Fleming because of Fleming killing the breeding sow.”

“Is that it?”

“Not quite. It also came up that several hundred pounds was missing from Roger Fleming’ house.’

“Really? This is the first time money has been mentioned in this matter.”

“That’s why you’re paying me Mr. Morgan. I find the facts.”

“So, I imagine that everyone suspected Mercer of stealing the money,” said Morgan.

“Not really. Some chaps believe that the coppers took it. After all, when they arrived they chased everyone out and were then alone in the house. Investigating and safeguarding the evidence they say they was.”

“Let me ask you this. Who found Fleming’s body?”

“I’m still trying to get that information.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Keep asking questions in Chelmsford and Essex. I’m beginning to think that there are a lot of answers to our questions there.”

“Yes sir. I plan to be there Saturday evening. That seems to be the best time when the working men go to the pub’s.”

Back in Harrow Alistair and Joyce Basham sat studying documents. Joyce read the court transcript of Silas Mercer’s trial while her husband read the police and evidence reports. Both worked in deep, complete silence. Then suddenly Joyce said, “I think I’ve found something love.”

“And?”, asked Alistair.

“Here, the Crown’s prosecutor is questioning a laboratory technician about what he learned when examining the hairs found in the blood stains