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

in Roger Fleming’s house. The technician says, and I’ll read it as it is, he says, “I found three white hairs three inches in length. An analysis was done of the hairs and it was learned that they were actually hairs from a Berkshire Hog. Since they were white and as I mentioned exactly three inches long in all probability they came from the snout area of the pig.”

“Really, anything else?,” asked Alistair.

“It seems the defense councilor on cross examination asked, “Could you determine anything else in your analysis?”

“Such as sir?,” asked the witness.

“Such as the age, the condition of the hairs?”

“The condition of the hairs was that they had been cut, or clipped if you will,” said the technician.

“Cut and clipped? And from the snout of a Berkshire Hog. Can you give me an example of any hog farmer in England that would cut, clip or for that matter groom a hog in that manner?”

“Yes sir. Farm shows where they show their prize animals.”

“No further questions,” said the defense.

“So there you have it love. Is what I found beneficial to your case?,” asked Joyce.

“I rather think that it does. Mercer and farmers like him, those that raise Berkshire Hogs usually sell them for slaughter on the market approximately one hundred and eighty to one hundred and ninety five days from birth. I have no information that Silas Mercer or his children have shown their hogs at fairs or in competition. Therefore, I can’t vision Silas Mercer taking the time to groom a hog by cutting the white hairs on it’s snout.”

“Excuse me, but what advantage does what the laboratory technician testified to in court render to your case?”, asked Joyce.

“Right now, the fact that the Mercer hogs were not shown in fairs or livestock shows. You see, there was no need to clip snout hair or for that matter groom the animals. Yet, the hairs taken into evidence by the Crown were clipped and beleived to be from the snout of a Berkshire Hog. In short this means the hairs in all probability came from some other Berkshire. Not necessarily from one of Mercer’s hogs. Since it appears that Silas Mercer was convicted on circumstantial evidence Morgan can use this new information in his appeal”, Alistair explained.

“But isn’t what you have now circumstantial evidence?, asked Joyce.

“Yes my love, but Morgan only has to go in front of the judge in his appeal, not a jury. He should be able to have the court open the case to review. Hopefully, if and when they do we’ll have all the pieces to the puzzle and he can clear Silas Mercer’s name.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

Chiny Chin Chin

 

As the beginning of June, 1951 came upon them Basil Morgan and Doctor Alistair Basham sat in Morgan’s legal office going over the facts in the murder of Roger Fleming. “Alright, so far I feel that we have enough contradictory evidence against the Crown’s circumstantial evidence to warrant opening the Silas Mercer case for at least a review. What do you think Doctor?”, asked Morgan.

“You’re the barrister going into court. Since you asked me I’ll say this. We should know before hand who found the body of Fleming, how much money was taken and was the missing money the motive for the murder? If so, then Fleming shooting the breeding sow was not the reason for his death,” Basham answered.

“So you’re saying that robbery was the motive?”, asked Morgan.

“I don’t think so. I think the money was taken as an after thought. Case in point. We know that a field hand found the door to the house open and that field hand also found the body of Fleming. Sergeant Draper said the door to the house had been open for several hours. Who was that field hand? Was it the field hand that took the money?”

“I’ll have Fillmore dig a bit deeper over in Chelmsford,’ said Morgan.

“I would. Another thing. Harry Mercer said his father was strong. Strong of body and mind he said. It seems to me that a man of that stature would be able to beat Fleming with his hands, not having to rely on an object to crush the man’s skull,” said Basham.

“I agree,” Morgan replied.

“Since it appears that the Crown’s case against Mercer was the white hairs analyzed by the laboratory technician, keep in mind that he stated that in his opinion the hairs came from the snout area of a Berkshire Hog. That being so, I did a bit of research into the breed. It appears that the Berkshire although referred to as the Black Pig actually has white hair on it’s feet, snout and at times on it’s chest and tail, even at times on it’s chiny chin chin”, said Basham with a laugh.”

“I see. So what you are saying damages the Crown’s witness as an expert in his analysis”, said Morgan.

“Exactly old boy. Not much, but I will agree, but enough to plant doubt in the mind of the judge.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I go to court. In the meantime what will you be doing?”, asked Morgan.

“I’ll still be looking into the hog hair evidence. That’s where most of the answer stands. Once I satisfy myself with the right answers about the hairs, then perhaps we’ll have the answer as to who killed Fleming.”

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A week later Alistair sat at the kitchen table staring off into space, a blank expression on his face. He was brought back to reality when Joyce said loudly, “Just what are you daydreaming about!”

“Huh? What? Oh. I’m sorry love. I was just thinking of what I learned today. You see, I contacted a plastering company. I talked to a bloke that’s been doing plastering for the past. Thirty years. He learned from his father. Seems it’s been a family profession for generations. Anyway, I asked him about the use of hogs hair mixed with plaster. Seems that hogs hair was used primarily with lime plaster. Lime plaster went out of fashion in 1900. Seems it took too long to dry. They then began using gypsum plaster and if fiber was needed in the mix they began using wood fiber. So, it appears that a local plasterer being a suspect more or less has disappeared.”

“Well, look at it this way. It is just another aspect in the case that you can now eliminate,” said Joyce.

“True. There was a time when I believed that the hog hairs were brought into the Fleming house by Fleming himself”, said Basham.

“How?,” asked Joyce.

“Fleming was reported to have been a man with a temper. From what we learned when he saw the sow in his fields he angered, took a shotgun and rode his tractor out into the field. There, supposedly he shot the hog. Suppose, just suppose he, once again in anger, kicked the dead pig in the head with his booted foot. In do so, white hairs from the sows snout adhered to his boot. He then brought the hairs into his house when he returned.”

“It sounds very feasible dear,” replied Joyce.

“Until one remembers that the hairs have been reported as cut, or clipped. The Mercers never groomed their hogs for any purpose except give them an occasional bath.”

“What next?”

“As the saying goes, back to the drawing board. Unfortunately I have an outline, but no picture,”said Basham.

The next day, Derrick Fillmore handed Basil Morgan typewritten reports on his activities in Essex. Morgan looked at the many pages and said, “In saving me rather valuable time, suppose you tell me what’s in this report.”

“Very well mate. Back I went to the pubs and once again talked to John Miller. After I bought him a couple of pints he loosens up and I ask him point blank mind you, who found Fleming’s body? Guess what he tells me?,” said Fillmore.

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“Well he ups and tells me that it was his father that discovered the body. Seems that old Albert Miller, being the foreman and all had to report every morning to Roger Fleming to see what the farmer wanted done in the day, even on Sunday, his day off. Now, as John tells it, his father Albert goes to the farm house and discovers the front door ajar. He removes his hat and calls out, “Mr. Fleming? Mr. Fleming?” there being no answer he steps inside. The first thing he sees is the bottom of Fleming’s shoes. Then, Fleming himself. Old Rodger is laying face down. His face and head is surrounded by a dark, semi-wet pool of blood. Stepping closer Albert sees that the farmers skull has been crushed. Albert then and I’ll use the word supposedly, goes to the small office in the house and uses the telephone to call the local police. The rest I assume you know,” said Fillmore.

“My question to you Mr. Fillmore is, do you trust what he had to say?,’ asked Morgan.

“Oh yes sir. If you was to take the time sir, you will see in my report a statement taken in my office from John Miller and witnessed by two of my associates. If he was lying I doubt if he’s willingly submit to giving me a statement.” Fillmore answered.

“Morgan smiled. “Very nice work Mr. Fillmore. Very nice.”

“Now, what else do you have in mind for me sir?”, asked Fillmore.

“Nothing at the moment. I’ll be in touch and soon.”

“Very well then, I’ll bid you a good day. Cheerio”.

When Fillmore left his office Morgan called Basham on the telephone.

After listening intently to what Morgan had to say Alistair said, “Excellent. Roger Fleming’s body being discovered face down to me indicates that he was struck from behind. Have you received any information from the police in reference to Fleming’s injuries?”, asked Basham.

“Not as yet. They will not release anything until told to do so by the court,” Morgan answered.

“I see. What’s your schedule for tomorrow?, asked Alistair.

“I’m afraid I’ll be in court most of the day.”

“Hmm. No matter. I want to talk to Harry Mercer once more. I’ll bring you up to date later.”

“Very well.”

“Good by.”

“Cheerio.”

Late in the morning of the next day Alistair Basham drove out to the Mercer farm. Luckily, he found Harry at the house instead of the pig pens or fields. “Doctor Basham. This is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you sir?, asked Mercer.

“I need only a moment of your time. Do you happen to know what mortuary buried Roger Fleming?, Basham asked.

“Yes, that would have been Parson and Hahn. As a matter of fact they’re still in business. Simon Parson now is the proprietor but he kept his fathers partners name, “ said Mercer.

“Excellent. You say the owner is a man named Simon?”

“That’s correct.”

“Thank you. And, I assume he’s in Chelmsford?”

“Well, actually the business is in the village of Blackmore, but one has to go through Chelmsford in order to get to Blackmore.”

“I see. I’m sure there are plenty of roadside signs”, said Basham.

“As I recall, there are.”

“Very well then. I shall be off,” said Baham.

“Do you mind telling me why you want to talk to the undertaker?”, asked Mercer.

“No problem. Seems the police and his Majesty’s Court wish to drag their feet in the matter of your father’s appeal. As a result I must work around them. Now, have a smashing day Harry.”

As Alistair drove along the road leading to the village of Blackmore he was pleasantly surprised at the view of the rolling hills and the plots of land separated by hedge rows. Entering the village he noticed the tall, black steel sign that read, “Blackmore.’ The road was paved, but narrow and some of the dwellings still had thatched roofs. At times he felt that he had traveled back in time to a different age, a different century. He noticed the Baptist Church, built in 1843. Once he passed it he began looking for the mortuary. He slowed the motorcar as he saw a black, hearse parked in front of a one story building. He pulled up in the drive