How do you do? This is Ty's book. How many poems, books, comedies and dramas have been written on the theme of two men and a woman? The eternal triangle. Thousands and thousands, I suppose. To the moment I can't think of many of the other variety, two women and one man. Doubtless they exist, we just don't hear of them. The methods of the fair sex are far more subtle. For instance, I never heard of two women fighting a duel to the death for a man. But the methods of the fair sex are just as lethal. The case under discussion, however, is one of the first varieties, the common old garden variety. Two men and a woman. A married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Smith and the other man, John Derren. Now, what usually happens in this type of triangle? A divorce, that's right. Generally. But sometimes a husband just won't let go and then, well, let me tell you the story of these three very ordinary people, the Smiths. The Smiths and John Derren. Because these three were free from the quirks and oddities usually associated with characters in a drama, yes, a murder. You may find it difficult to say who tried to kill whom. Even the judge himself expressed a doubt. Oh yes, by the way, one of the protagonists did have a slightly distinguishing habit. A quirk or an oddity, you might say. He generally wore a sprig of white feather in his buttonholes, for luck. Whether it was effective, you can judge for yourself when you've heard this week's Facebook history, One Man, Two Minutes. The Man, Two Minutes. Alfonso Francis Austin Smith, thanks to his friends, was the grandson of a Canadian millionaire. Educated as he was in Cambridge, Frank came into a lot of money when he was 21. When the 1914 war broke out, he joined the dragoon guards and served his country with distinction. After the war, he settled down to enjoy his fortune. He married an extremely attractive young woman called Kathleen, and by her had three children. He made his home at a cottage near Whitstable, a seaside town on east coast of England. The cottage was called Teller Mare. So far, you'll admit a very nice, normal picture. Well, perhaps we don't all have millionaires for grandfathers. It was in 1926 at the London Club that Frank met John Durham, a young man of good background and similar education. It was Smith who opened the conversation. Excuse me, do you think you could pass me that copy of Frank? Certainly. It's a rather good number, this week. I say, haven't we met before somewhere? I don't know, have we? Were you in the Irish Guard? No, the dragoons. Um, my name's Smith. Really? I know, I know. Everyone tells me how unusual it is. Mine's Durham, John Durham. Perhaps you were at Cambridge. What college? Trinity. Ah, no, King's. What about before that? Eaton. Good man, so was I. We have probably met at an old boy's dinner. I say, extraordinary faces, I thought. What do you say to a drink on that? On me, on me. Excellent idea. I say, waiter? Waiter? Well, then, very quickly became friends. Whenever Frank Smith came up to London, he would meet John Durham for lunch or dinner and perhaps a show. And, as wives generally do, Kathleen Smith wanted her husband to bring his friend down to stay at Sir Lamarie's. Just for the weekend. Frank, darling, why don't you ask this friend of yours around the stage? She sounds awfully nice and we so rarely do any entertainment. You are good, Kathleen. I was going to ask you myself. And you sure it wouldn't be too much bother for you? Bother? Just the opposite. We've got nanny to look after the children, the cook for the meals and the daily maid for the house. How can a guest be a bother to me? Why, dear, I'll ask John down. Well, what about next weekend? Fine. Miss White, too. You did say he was married. Well, actually he is, but I think there's been some trouble. In fact, he hinted that they've been separated, but I'm sure he'll be delighted to come. Next weekend, then. I must tell you how long I think you are to invite me down here. Nonsense, my dear chap. It's jolly beaten of you to come, eh, Cass? Rather. You know Mr. Derham? Please, call me John. That's right away with formality. John and Kathleen, eh? Very well then, John. I was going to say that from my point of view, you're doing us the favor. Oh, I know I have the kids to look after. Frank, here, of course. Who looks after who, I'd like to know. You know quite well. Anyway, it's who. Who is this fellow who? It does sound silly to say it often enough, doesn't it? All three started off in grateful, and the weekend went with a swing from beginning to end. There was practically no hint of any trouble to come, just a few words murmured rather gently across the card table. This was on the last evening of Derham's stay at Stillamaris. The three had been playing cards after dinner when Frank got thirsty. I say, Cass, darling, is there any more beer, Miss Ella? Yes, dear, I had a whole case ordered last week. Oh, good. Well, while you're dealing your hand, I'll just pop down and get some bottles. Uh, come, please, do you think? I wonder if Frank realizes what a lucky fellow he is. Lucky? In what way, particularly? In the way of his wife, you. That's very sweet, King Cassette. I think I'm lucky too. Yes. He's a Grand Chef. But then the world seems pretty generously supplied with Grand Chefs. The people like you. Oh, I'm not that unusual, you know. You are, Kathleen. You are. You're the most unusual person I've met in my life. I admit it. I envy Frank. Your marriage wasn't a success, was it? That's an understatement. I'm sorry. You deserve someone very good. You think so? I... I've brought enough for 20 cents, you've heard. Now... Now... Now... Good Lord, you haven't even finished coupling the cards. What on earth have you two been talking about? Nothing very harmful about that, you'll say. Nearly a guest complimenting his hostess in a charming way. But I was more to it than that. John Barham had fallen very deeply in love with Cassette. The other weeks that followed, he tried to drive her from his thoughts. But she and Frank were obviously a happy couple with three lovely children. And who was he? Hmm, just an outsider. But when Frank pressed him again and again to make another visit to Stella Maris' cottage, he was too weak to refuse. He was not alone with Kathleen five minutes before he told her everything. So you see, Kathleen, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. I'm not the sort of person to parade under false pretensions. Perhaps I'm wrong to tell you all this. But I just couldn't bear the thought of passing a whole weekend in your house without you knowing the truth. I... This is going to sound very strange to you. But last time you were here, I gave you no indication of it. I couldn't have because I had no idea myself. No idea of what? What couldn't you tell me? John, when you drove away to the station taxi that day, I... I suddenly realized that I'd grown more than fond of you. Kathleen. Oh, Kathleen. I never thought I could miss someone. Someone I'd just met the way I'd missed you these last weeks. My dear. Oh, I feel so deliriously happy. Do you, John? I don't. I'm thinking of Frank and the children. Of course you are. I'd be horribly selfish, Kathleen. You must, of course you must, think things over carefully. It will be a big break, but you must be absolutely certain. You'll very understand. My dear, I'm in love. Kathleen Smith soon had a problem solved for her. Frank was by no means blind, but during the next few days he realized how things were going between his friend and his wife. John Derham, now determined to win Kathleen, made no attempt to leave Stella Mary's cottage when his weekend was over. A most embarrassing situation for all of them, I should say. Frank Smith decided to have it out. Now, now look here, John. Kathleen. I, I don't really know how one goes about this sort of thing, but I thought I could talk to you both together rather than to one behind the other's back. What is it you want to talk about, Frank? You and Kathleen, John. Oh, I, I hope I'm terribly mistaken about this. But the evidence points the other way. Is there, is there anything between you? I find it rather difficult to answer that. Yes, of course. It's really for Kathleen to answer. Oh, what am I to do? I suggest you tell the truth now. Let's not raise our voices. Are you telling me how to behave in my own house? I was merely suggesting. Then I think you can stop suggesting. Frank, please don't take it this way. Take what? What is there to take? I'm right, am I? There is something going on between you. Come on, I'll do it. If you must know then, Frank, and I think Kathleen will be happier if we have the whole thing cleared up, we're in love with each other. Then I suggest you get out of my house immediately. Get out before I throw you out. That won't solve anything, Frank. Kat, I'll talk to you later. Perhaps Kathleen doesn't want to go. Why, you filthy swine, you low, filthy rotten! Stop, Frank, stop! I don't think losing my face will solve anything, Frank. It's all very well for you two to sit there and be so calm about it. Do you realize what I feel? Do you realize what you're doing to me? Do you? The triangular quarrel went on deep into the night, and although no final conclusion was reached, Frank Smith left the cottage the next morning. John Derham stayed on. Normally such a situation would lead to a divorce, but there were the children to consider to whom Frank was devoted. So Kathleen Smith solicitors grew up a deed of separation and sent it to her husband for approval. It was never signed by him. Instead he chose to write to Kathleen asking for a reconciliation. Please, please, I know I haven't been all that I should have been as a husband, but I was faithful to you, and in your heart you must have some feeling for me. I cannot live without you, nor do I intend to. For the children's sake, send him away. Our son won't have to go to the hospital. For the children's sake, send him away. Our son won't have to have fingers pointed at him. As the son of the murderer of an unfaithful wife and her lover, and a suicide. Come back to me, my girl, my little white heather, your heartbroken husband. When he received no answer to this letter, Frank started to force things. He went to Derham's townhouse and smashed most of the furniture. This accomplished little and the distracted, desperate man wrote a threatening letter to his wife's lover. You damned twine. I only wish you had the courage to meet me. You have seduced my wife, and for that you think you'll get off easily in the divorce court. You took my wife, you lied to me, and now you're going to stop her. You've burned not only a very sweet girl, but the woman I, and not you, love. If you really loved her, you could not have done it. This problem can only be solved by your removal, or by mine. If you are any sort of a man, you will meet me in safety. Still, there was no answer. Having tried words, Frank now resorted to actions. He went down to Selenaris. Kathleen was there, but John Derham was in town for a few days. Kathleen's sister, fifteen years old, was staying in the house. After a day or so, it looked as if Frank had succeeded in winning Barakit's wife. They were apparently reconciled when jealousy and disgust began once more to do their work. Smith decided to force things into the open and sent Derham a wire on the third day in Kathleen's name, asking his rival to come down to the cottage, adding the word urgent. John Derham arrived the same evening. At eleven o'clock that night at Selenaris cottage, a man was killed. Ina Ó Kh左右o John Derham arrived at Stella Maris cottage on the evening of August 12th, and answered the Smiths telegram. As Smith had sent it in his wife's name, Derham was naturally surprised to find the husband in the house on his arrival. However, these three unhappy people maintained a calm, though strange attitude throughout dinner, which they had at a nearby hotel. They returned to Stella Maris shortly before 11 o'clock. Now looking back on that evening, it is interesting to note that Frank Smith was not wearing his usual buttonhole of white hava. Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm about ready for bed. Oh, Cass, I thought you might like a game of cards before turning in. Well, a short game then, Don. And what am I supposed to do while you two are mute, of course? Oh, sorry Frank, I took it for granted to do play two. It doesn't mean you're taking away too much for granted. Now Frank dear, don't let start all that again. I'm afraid we'll have to have it out, Cass. I asked John Don to get everything cleared up, not for a card game. What is it you want me to clear up, Frank? I want you to realize that Cass and I are together again now, and that we were happy before you came into the picture, and that we are going to be happy again once you're finally gone. Aren't you speaking for yourself only, Frank? Please don't make any more trouble, John. No, John, I'm speaking for Cass too. Tell him, darling, he doesn't seem to believe me. It's not true, it's a cap. John, oh, Frank, I... Go on, Cass, tell him to clear out. I don't want ever to see him in his house again. What's the matter, Cass? Oh, tell me, John. Well, Frank, weren't you speaking just for yourself? Cass, tell him to go. Tell him, Cass, tell him. Tell him! Right, then I know what I have to do, and I came prepared. I knew there was a possibility of something like this happening, so I borrowed a gun, and I see that now is the time for me to use it. You better give it to me, Frank. We don't have anything. I've had enough of you, Gerham. I don't care what you want or what you don't want. I'm going to put an end to it all. Give me that gun, Frank. Give it to me, I'll tell him. You fool! You realize what you've done? You blind idiot. I'll pay you for this. I'll... John, you're doing this. Let's go alone. Put that gun down. Get out of this, Cass. Take this just right. And this. And this. Oh, John, stop. Stop. John, what have you done to him? It's all right, Cass. He's not there. We'll come to him in a minute. Lucky blighter. I've done for, Cass. I've died. My darling. John Gerham died a few seconds later. Meanwhile, Kathleen Smith had telephoned the police and Inspector Rivers arrived at Sarah Marish just as Frank was regaining consciousness. The inspector interviewed Kathleen's sister, who you may remember was staying in the house at the time. She said that she'd heard raised voices and then a shock. When she went to the drawing room, she saw her sister Kathleen crying to hold back the wounded Gerham, who was at passing Smith to the butt of the revolver. Inspector Rivers asked the girl one or two questions and then... Now, Mr. Smith, if you're feeling up to it, I'd like to ask you a few questions concerning what happened in this room tonight. Yes, Inspector. I suppose Gerham is dead. He is. I'd like to know from you how he was killed. We were quarrelling over my wife. I took out my revolver, or rather the revolver I'd borrowed, to shoot myself. John Gerham tried to take it from me as I was getting it out of my pocket. There was a struggle. I was hit on the head. The gun went off and I must have fainted. Which pocket was the gun in? My right hip pocket, the barrel pointing upwards. I see. So when Gerham grasped it, he took hold of the barrel? Yes, and then he began hitting me with the butt. Did you touch the trigger at any time? No. Excuse me, Inspector Rivers. Yes, Sergeant, what is it? There's a man outside who'd like to speak to you. He saw what happened. How could he? There was only Gerham and Catherine in here with him until Captain Sister came in. I'll see the man outside, Sergeant. Would you stay in here for the moment? Yes, sir. Oh, are you the man who was seen in? Yes, Sergeant, Inspector. I thought I ought to report to you. I was passing the earth when the man was killed. You saw him being killed? Well, not exactly, but I heard from you and Sergeant that he died afterwards. Tell me exactly what you saw. Well, first of all, I heard the shot. I turned in the direction it came from and I saw Mr. Smith standing near the window and coming towards him was his wife and the gentleman who had since died. Him and Mr. Smith had their hands up. You know Mr. and Mrs. Smith? That's right. I'm in the building trade. I want to do the job for them. I thought I ought to report to you, sir. Yes, yes, you did very wisely. You're sure that the deceased and Mrs. Smith were moving towards Mr. Smith after the shot was fired? Oh, positive, sir. It was the shot what made me look round. Leave your name and address to the Sergeant, will you? I'll send them after you in a moment. If you'll just wait here, I'll pass you on the ticket. Well, Inspector? Frank Smith, I'm placing you under arrest. I'm charging you with the murder of John Derham on this 12th day of August 1926. I must warn you that anything you may say may be taken down in writing and used in evidence. But I never murdered Derham. I was going to shoot myself, I tell you. It was when Derham struggled with me for the revolver that the fiend has often killed him. I never intended to shoot anyone but myself. With Frank Smith under arrest, Inspector Rivers continued his investigation of the events leading up to the killing of John Derham. He discovered that on the Wednesday night, the day before he sent Derham the telegram, Smith had apparently been completely reconciled with his wife. He had written her a pathetic letter which he gave her in the morning of that pathetic day, August the 12th. My own adorable little wife, he had written. You have made me happier than I ever hoped to be. I have been mad in hell. Now you have given me glimpses of the heaven which, with your help, my wife, I leave no stone unturned to you. I feel like a man who has been in a terrible feedback, the videos from wandering, but just waking from a deep, professing, life-giving sleep. Don't throw a life-thriller to me and then drag it away at my last gasp. You have a great and career. I need it and want it always. I could never love anyone but I love you. God bless you with all the love in my heart, Florian Huffman. Thanks. Thanks, Miss Leathers, for your use by both the prosecution and the defense in the subsequent trial of mid-cinematizes. The prosecution conducted by Mr. Roland Oliver made capital of some of the phrases Smith had written to Derham, such as, If you are any sort of a man, you'll meet me face to face. This problem can only be solved by your removal or mine. The defense, on the other hand, attempted to enlist the sympathy of the jury by quoting the tender words the prisoner had written to his wife. Thereby, Sir Edward Marshall Hall, who was representing Smith, these letters sounded quite beautiful. However, the case was not decided on the merits of Smith's letter writing that on the crux of the story he had told. The Lord, may I have the permission to give a little demonstration to the members of the jury? I think I can disprove the theory put forward by the defense. You have the court's permission, Mr. Oliver. As an assistant, I would like to serve as the Mr. Robert Churchill, the defense's counseless. Would you come in to be well of the court, Mr. Churchill? Members of the jury, I wish you to imagine that Mr. Churchill here is the prisoner, and I, for the moment, am the deceased John Derham. Now, Mr. Churchill, will you put the revolver in your fifth pocket, in the same position as the prisoner had it, a barrel upward? Yes, I have done that. Now, reach for it, and I, as Derham, will try to stop you. There. Now, I have hold of the barrel. Can you pull the trigger in that position? Only if I put my thumb in the trigger guard. Thank you, Mr. Churchill. Admit that there is no likelihood of the gun having been fired in a struggle in the manner described by the prisoner. May I see the gun, please? If the prosecution has finished with it. Certainly, Mr. Inglis. Thank you. Hmm. I noticed just now that my learned colleagues used only one hand to prevent Mr. Churchill from getting the gun. Surely a man in the position of Derham would use two. Put the gun back in your pocket, Mr. Churchill. I have done so. Now, don't shake it out. Right? I tried to stop you with both hands. One on the barrel, one on your lip. You struggled. You're hurting my arm. Hands up. But I think I proved my point. The gun could have been fired at any point of the struggle. The crown's chief witness was the builder who had passed the window at the time of the fight. How could Smith's story be true? He was in the struggle and then the shot. If Derham had been seen approaching him after the shot was fired, Edward Marshall Hall suggested to the builder that his mental picture was a little wrong in point of time, as it was only a fraction of a second between the two events. But the builder stopped when it was count, and Fred Woodshaw was useless to press the point. The only person called by the defense was Frank Smith himself. He gave the evidence quietly and convincingly, standing firmly in the box, a sprig of white hessian in his buttonhole. On the next day, Fred Wood made his final speech for the defense, ending it with one of his emotional toleratings. He held Smith desperately for a reconciliation and deferred the moment until there was no longer a possibility. He begged the White not to withdraw the life belt which he had thrown when he was cuddling in the water. That life belt had been withdrawn once. Members of the jury, it is for you to say that you will pray to him once more. Give him the chance to be pulled ashore to resume his old happy life with the woman he loves, which has been so long denied. But in spite of Marshall Hall's auditory, Mr. Justin Davery summed up dead against the prisoners. He pointed out to the jury that the law they had to administer was the law of the country, not the unwritten law. Unwritten law? That is merely a name for no law at all. I have told you that the law of the country as it must be applied. If you apply any other law or notions of your own, you are violating the own you have taken. The jury retired to consider their verdict. After about an hour and a quarter, they sent into court for the revolver that Smith had used. I'll tell you, members of the jury, on the charge of murder, do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty? Not guilty. On the charge of manslaughter, guilty or not guilty? Not guilty. There is another charge on the calendar against the prisoner. He is charged with having in his possession a service revolver and cartridges with intent to endanger life. I hold that the statute applies. How does the prisoner plead to the charge? I think it's guilty. On that charge, I sentence you to twelve months imprisonment with hard labor. In view of the verdict of the jury, I must assume that you have the revolver in your possession with the intent of endanger in the life of no other person than yourself. I must assume that. I have my own opinion on it. The court is adjourned. What really occurred on that summer evening of Selanare? Kathy Smith could have told the judge that she didn't choose to be called and her wife cannot be compelled to give evidence when her husband is a prisoner. I wonder was that fortunate for Alfonso Clancy's or King Smith. Well, perhaps we'd all be wise to wear white heather in our buttonholes a certain time. Perhaps it's not. No.
