The Case Of The Berkshire Hog - Robert F. Clifton (simple ebook reader .txt) 📗

“True, but opinions that we valued then and now,” said Mercer.

“What can you tell me about the feud between your father and Roger Fleming?”, asked Alistair.

“I’m sure Mr. Morgan has given you the details. However, let me say this. Fleming was right to complain about the hogs getting into his potato fields. He was also right in complaining about the smell of hog manure and urine. Remember that was twenty five years ago. Today, the manure is spread in fields that are downwind and allowed to dry. Fences now confine the animals to this farm preventing them to roam. In our fathers time two things were different, the manner of hog farming and the amount of money available to make corrections. As I said, Fleming was right to complain. He was wrong in shooting the escaped sow. Still, my father did not kill Mr. Fleming.”

“I believe you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be here. To your knowledge, what other contacts did your father and Fleming have, say on a business level?,”asked Basham.

“I was told that at one time my father offered to trade manure for the tops of the potato plants when harvested, but Fleming didn’t consider hog manure as good fertilizer. He was wrong. It is an excellent fertilizer. One must be careful using it near wells and water sources.”

“I see. Now as you can imagine I know nothing about pigs other than my wife buys it as pork. ham or bacon. So, tell me if you can about the breed of hog you raise here”, said Basham

“Since you mention pork meat we raise the Berkshire pig, which is sold on the market as pork roast, chops, bacon, ham,pigs feet, pigs ears, liver. Even the intestines are used in the manufacturing of sausage. Hog hair is desired by plasterer’s as they mix it with the wet plaster before they spread it on walls. So you see practically the entire hog is used and consumed in one manner or another.”

“Then I take it by the size of your operation that hog farming is a money making venture’, said Basham.

“It is now. It was better back when my father was running things. During World War One Britain imported most of it’s pork products from America. When that war ended England cut off imports from the United States and imported from such countries as Argentina, Russia and even Germany. My father saw an opportunity to raise British hogs in Britain and he did very well”.

“I can see that and I’m sure that you have improved on what he had built”.

“Well, he raised one thousand hogs at a time. We, that being my sister and I raise five times that today.”

“Without any problems?,” asked Basham.

“There’s always problems. Market offers with prices being lower. For me the greatest problem is slurry, or the manure produced by the animals. Each sow can produce twelve piglets twice a year. So you can see the problem.”

“Still, you appear to be self sufficient. We noticed your corn and soybean fields,” said Morgan.

“In that regard yes. One must be aware of changes in the laws governing agriculture which are changing every day. At the same time the British still prefer to consume beef, lamb and mutton,” Mercer replied.

“Allow me if you will to return the conversation back to your father and Roger Fleming. Did you ever meet the chap?”, asked Basham.

“No. Helen and I considered him to be the bogeyman. I would spot a man in his fields from time to time. I think it was him. Then, of course it could have been one of his field hands.”

“Now then, my next question is why do you think that your father is innocent of the murder of Roger Fleming?” After all, the Kings Court prosecuted him and the people found him guilty,” said Basham.

“You didn’t know my father. He was a strong man, strong of body and will. At the same time he was gentle and kind. We were told that when after the few times that the hogs wandered into Fleming’s fields, our father offered to pay for the damage. Each time Fleming refused. Then one day Fleming shot and killed the breeding sow. Still, knowing my father he might have been angry, but not enough to kill the man.”

“I see. Now about your sister. Helen is her name?,” asked Basham.

“Yes, Helen Bell. She lives in Chelmsford with her husband. Andrew, Doctor Andrew Bell. He’s a physician and Helen helps run his surgery,” Mercer answered.

“I see. Do you think that she can offer anything more than what you have told us?, asked Alistair.

“I don’t know, I doubt it. We more or less learned the facts at about the same time and from the same relatives.”

“Could you tell me who owns the Fleming farm now?”, asked Basham.

“Stanley Cook. As I recall he bought the property at auction right after Fleming’s death,” answered Mercer.

“Do you two get along?”

“I would say famously. Today we trade potato plant tops for swine manure when possible,” said Mercer.

“Do you think it possible that we could visit him?”, asked Basham.

“I don’t know. I could give him a ring. I imagine he will want to know why you want to meet him,” Harry replied.

“Why do you want to meet him?”, asked Morgan.

“Actually, I want to see the place where Fleming was killed,” said Basham.

“It shouldn’t be too much of problem. Stanley is well aware of the murder in the house he purchased. The question is his availability at the moment,” Harry explained.

“If you don’t mind,would you give him a ring,” said Basham.

Harry Mercer excused himself and left the room going to the office where he kept the telephone. “Just what do you expect to find at Fleming’s old house?”, asked Morgan.

“I don’t know. I do know what I hope to find, but if I don’t at least it will make me familiar with the layout of the room where Roger Fleming was killed. All those things add up in time old boy,’ Basham explained.

Five minutes later Harry Mercer walked into the parlor. “Stanley is free at the moment. I more or less explained what I was doing and that you gentlemen were assisting me. We can go right over”, he said.

Morgan drove the Bentley to the farm house now owned by Stanley Cook, When he pulled up in front of the building they saw a short, thin, balding man Basham judged to be about seventy years old. Mercer, Morgan and Basham got out of the car and were introduced to Cook.

“So, Harry here tells me you want to look around my place. Said it has something to do with his father. I have no problem with that. Come in, look around, ask questions. If I can answer them I will, gladly,’ said Cook.

“Thank you very much Mr. Cook. We shouldn’t be long”, said Basham as all of the men walked into the farm house.

Once inside Alistair looked at the room just inside the front doorway. “I understand that this is where the murder took place,’ he said to Morgan.

“Yes sir”, Morgan answered.

“I see,” Basham replied gazing at the floor. “Mr. Cook I notice that you have a rug covering the floor. May I ask if when you purchased the property and moved into this house was there a rug on the floor?,”he asked.

“No. It was a bare wood floor at one time. Pine board as I recall. The police had removed those boards that had been stained with Fleming’s blood. I assume they took it as evidence.

After I bought the place I replaced the entire floor with oak. My wife insisted that we placed a rug here,” said Cook.

Turning to Morgan Basham said, “ There’s something we missed. I didn’t notice any mention of floor boards in the police reports or the trial transcripts. At the same time Sergeant Draper made no mention of any floor boards being taken as evidence.”

“You’re correct sir”, Morgan replied.

Basham then looked up at the ceiling. The ceiling appears to be about ten feet high. wouldn’t you agree Mr. Cook?”

“You’re almost spot on. Actually it is nine feet, four inches from the floor to the ceiling. Sort of odd, but remember Fleming built the place himself. He was a farmer, not a house builder,” said Cook.

“Is this important?”, asked Morgan.

“Oh, rather old boy. I’ll explain later”, Basham answered.

“Is there anything else?”, Morgan asked Basham.

“Not that I can think of at the moment. Thank you Mr. Cook for taking time to see us. I’m sure you knowing Harry here, are aware of what we are doing”, said Alistair.

“Of course. Should you need to return for any reason just give me a ring,” said Cook.

“We certainly will”, Morgan replied.

Back in the Bentley Morgan turned to Basham and asked, “What was the height of the ceiling all about?”

“Harry, how tall was your father?,” asked Basham.

“Practically six feet even”, Mercer answered.

“As I expected. At six feet tall one can assume that his arms were between thirty to thirty four inches long. Imagine now the difficulty a six foot tall man raising a weapon high enough to strike with enough force to crush another mans skull where the ceiling in the room is only nine feet high. It is possible, but I believe he would be concerned of just how low the ceiling was at the time. Nonetheless, in my opinion the killer was between five foot four inches tall to five feet six inches tall with an arm length of approximately twenty five inches. With that height and arm length the killer could swing freely time and time again. Purely speculation on my part at this time, but with some merit if I do say so myself”, Basham explained.

As Morgan drove into London he said, “Doctor, before I take you home would you mind if I stopped at the office and checked with my girls? I have other irons in the fire so to speak”.

“No problem. As a matter of fact I should like to speak with Miss Mitchell. Perhaps she’s come up with some information on the rubber heel I have her researching.”

When the two men entered Morgan’s Law Office Basham saw Deborah Mitchell who at the moment had her back towards him as she stood at the filing cabinet. He walked up behind her and said, “Good afternoon, Miss Mitchell”.

Deborah turn with a start. “Oh Doctor Basham. It’s you. Hello, “ she replied.

“I was wondering if by chance you got around to researching the rubber heel thing I mentioned to you?”

“Oh yes. As a matter of fact I have a type written report for you.”

“Excellent, excellent. When you get time I should jolly well like to see it.”

Miss Mitchell walked to her desk, opened a drawer and took out a manila folder. She then handed it to Alistair who then stood reading her report. A smile appeared on his face. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I could be considered a dirty old man I could kiss you. Well done girl. Well done.” he said.

“Well, how about I agree to a hug”, she said with a smile.

“And you shall have it. Basil! Basil! I’ve got news sir. I’ve got news!,” Basham said loudly.

“Then come into my office, shut the door and tell me”, said Morgan now seated behind his desk.”

Basham entered the office and said, “I believe that the rubber heel that Sergeant Draper says made the print in the victims blood was manufactured in Birmingham,” he said.

“So? I’m sure there were other manufacturers doing the same thing”.

“Not quite. You see Donlop of Birmingham invented the stretchable rubber sole and then the rubber heel. They of course patented their invention. That was in 1920. Six years later Fleming is killed and the killer left the heel print as evidence. Don’t you see?”

“I’m sorry Doctor. At the moment I don’t see.”

“Think about it old chap. Donlop was the only manufacturer. No one else could use or buy their patten.”

“Now what?”

“Now, you send Fillmore to Birmingham. Have him search their records for