"What did you think it contained?" asked the Coroner quickly.
"Clothes and curios from foreign parts," said the witness coolly.
"Did Mr. Bolton tell you so?"
"He told me nothing about the case," growled the witness, "but he
chatted a lot about Malta, which I know well, having put into that port
frequent when a sailor."
"Did he hint at any rows taking place at Malta?"
"No, he didn't."
"Did he say that he had enemies?"
"No, he didn't."
"Did he strike you as a man who was in fear of death?"
"No, he didn't," said the witness for the third time. "He seemed happy
enough. I never thought for one moment that he was dead until I heard
how his body had been found in the packing case."
The Coroner asked all manner of questions, and so did Inspector Date;
but all attempts to incriminate Quass were vain. He was bluff and
straightforward, and told--so far as could be judged--everything he
knew. There was nothing for it but to dismiss him, and Eliza Flight was
called as the last witness.
She also proved to be the most important, as she knew several things
which she had not told to her master, or to the reporters, or even to
the police. On being asked why she had kept silence, she said that her
desire was to obtain any reward that might be offered; but as she had
heard that there would be no reward, she was willing to tell what she
knew. It was an important piece of evidence.
The girl stated that Bolton had retired to bed at eight on the ground
floor, and the bedroom had a window--as marked in the plan--which looked
on to the river a stone-throw distant. At nine or a trifle later witness
went out to have a few words with her lover. In the darkness she saw
that the window was open and that Bolton was talking to an old woman
muffled in a shawl. She could not see the woman's face, nor judge of her
stature, as she was stooping down to listen to Bolton. Witness did
not take much notice, as she was in a hurry to see her lover. When she
returned past the window at ten o'clock it was closed and the light was
extinguished, so she thought that Mr. Bolton was asleep.
"But, to tell the truth," said Eliza Flight, "I never thought anything
of the matter at all. It was only after the murder that I saw how
important it was I should remember everything."
"And you have?"
"Yes, sir," said the girl, honestly enough. "I have told you everything
that happened on that night. Next morning--" She hesitated.
"Well, what about next morning?"
"Mr. Bolton had locked his door. I know that, because a few minutes
after eight on the night before, not knowing he had retired. I tried to
enter the room and make ready the bed for the night. He sang out through
the door--which was locked, for I tried it--that he was in bed. That was
a lie also, as after nine I saw him talking to the woman at the window."