 CHAPTER 15 Mr. Singleton rose from his seat at the table by the solicitors for the prosecution and entered the box. Sir Hector adjusted his glasses, turned over a page of his brief, and cast a steady and impressive glance at the jury. I believe, Mr. Singleton, he said at length, that you are connected with the fingerprint department at Scotland Yard. Yes, I am one of the chief assistants in that department. What are your official duties? My principal occupation consists in the examination and comparison of the fingerprints of criminals and suspected persons. These fingerprints are classified by me according to their characters and arranged in files for reference. I take it that you have examined a great number of fingerprints. I have examined many thousands of fingerprints and have studied them closely for purposes of identification. Kindly examine this paper, Mr. Singleton. Here the fatal leaflet was handed to him by the Escher. Have you ever seen it before? Yes, it was handed to me for examination at my office on the 10th of March. There is a mark upon it, the print of a finger or thumb. Can you tell us anything about that mark? It is the print of the left thumb of Ruben Hornby, the prisoner at the bar. You are quite sure of that? I am quite sure. Do you swear that the mark upon that paper was made by the thumb of the prisoner? I do. Could it not have been made by the thumb of some other person? No, it is impossible that it could have been made by any other person. At this moment I felt Juliet lay a trembling hand on mine and, glancing at her, I saw that she was deathly pale. I took her hand in mind and, pressing it gently, whispered to her, Have courage! There's nothing unexpected in this. Thank you, she whispered in reply with a faint smile. I will try, but it's also horribly unnerving. You consider, Sir Hector proceeded, that the identity of this thumb print admits of no doubt. It admits of no doubt whatever, replied Mr. Singleton. Can you explain to us, without being too technical, how you have arrived at such complete certainty? I myself took a print of the prisoner's thumb, having first obtained the prisoner's consent after warning him that the print would be used in evidence against him. And I compared that print with the mark on this paper. The comparison was made with the greatest care and by the most approved method, point by point and detail by detail, and the two prints were found to be identical in every respect. Now it has been proven by exact calculations, which calculations I have personally verified, that the chance that the print of a single finger of any given person will be exactly like the print of the same finger of any other given person is as one to sixty-four thousand millions. That is to say, since the number of the entire human race is about sixteen thousand millions, the chance is about one to four that the print of a single finger of any one person will be identical with that of the same finger of any other member of the human race. It has been said by a great authority, and I entirely agree with the statement, that a complete or nearly complete accordance between two prints of the same finger affords evidence requiring no corroboration that the persons from whom they were made are the same. Now these calculations apply to the prints of ordinary and normal fingers or thumbs, but the thumb from which these prints were taken is not ordinary or normal. There is upon it a deep but clear linear scar, the scar of an old incised wound, and the scar passes across the pattern of the ridges, intersecting the latter at certain points and disturbing their continuity at others. Now this very characteristic scar is an additional feature, having a set of chances of its own, so that we have to consider not only the chance that the print of the prisoner's left thumb should be identical with the print of some other person's left thumb, which is as one to sixty-four thousand millions, but the further chance that these two identical thumb prints should be traversed by the impression of a scar identical in size and appearance, and intersecting the ridges at exactly the same places, and producing failures of continuity in the ridges of exactly the same character. But these two chances multiplied into one another yield an ultimate chance of about one to four thousand trillions that the prisoner's left thumb will exactly resemble the print of some other person's thumb, both as to the pattern and the scar which crosses the pattern. In other words, such a coincidence is an utter impossibility. Sir Hector Trumpler took off his glasses and looked long and steadily at the jury, as though he should say, Come, my friends, what do you think of that? Then he sat down with a jerk, and turned toward Anstey and Thorndike with a look of triumph. Do you propose to cross-examine the witness, inquired the judge, seeing that the counsel for the defense made no signs? No, my lord, replied Anstey. Thereupon Sir Hector Trumpler turned once more toward the defending counsel, and his broad red face was illumined by a smile of deep satisfaction. That smile was reflected on the face of Mr. Singleton as he stepped from the box, and, as I glanced at Thorndike, I seemed to detect, for a single instant, on his calm and immovable countenance the faintest shadow of a smile. Herbert John Nash, a plump middle-aged man of keen, though studious aspect, stepped into the box, and Sir Hector rose once more. You are one of the chief assistants in the fingerprint department, I believe, Mr. Nash. I am. Have you heard the evidence of the last witness? I have. Do you agree with the statements made by that witness? Entirely, I am prepared to swear that the print on the paper found in the safe is that of the left thumb of the prisoner, Ruben Hornby. And are you certain that no mistake is possible? I am certain that no mistake is possible. Again Sir Hector glanced significantly at the jury as he resumed his seat, and again Anstie made no sign beyond the entry of a few notes in the margin of his brief. Are you calling any more witnesses? asked the judge, dipping his pen in the ink. No, my lord, replied Sir Hector. That is our case. Upon this Anstie rose, and addressing the judge said, I call witnesses, my lord. The judge nodded and made an entry in his notes while Anstie delivered his brief introductory speech. My lord, and gentleman of the jury, I shall not occupy the time of the court with unnecessary appeals at this stage, but shall proceed to take the evidence of my witnesses without delay. There was a pause of a minute or more during which the silence was broken only by the rustle of papers and the squeaking of the judge's quill pen. Juliet turned a white, scared face to me and said in a hushed whisper, This is terrible, that last man's evidence is perfectly crushing. What can possibly be said in reply? I'm in despair. Oh, poor Ruben, he is lost. Dr. Jarvis, he hasn't a chance now. Do you believe that he is guilty? I asked. Certainly not, she replied indignantly. I am as certain of his innocence as ever. Then, I said, if he is innocent there must be some means of proving his innocence. Yes, I suppose so, she rejoined in a dejected whisper. At any rate we shall soon know now. At this moment the usher's voice was heard calling out the name of the first witness for the defence. Edmund Horford Rowe. A keen-looking grey-haired man with a shaven face and clothes cut side whiskers stepped into the box and was sworn in due form. You are a doctor of medicine, I believe, said Anstey, addressing the witness, and lecturer upon medical jurisprudence at the South London hospital. I am. Have you had occasion to study the properties of blood? Yes, the properties of blood are of great importance from a medical legal point of view. Can you tell us what happens when a drop of blood, say, from a cut finger, falls upon a surface such as the bottom of an iron safe? A drop of blood from a living body falling upon any non-absorbent surface will, in the course of a few minutes, solidify into a jelly which will, at first, have the same bulk and color as the liquid blood. Will it undergo any further change? Yes, in a few minutes more the jelly will begin to shrink and become more solid so that the blood will become separated into two parts, the solid and the liquid. The solid part will consist of a firm, tough jelly of a deep red color, and the liquid part will consist of a pale yellow, clear, watery liquid. At the end, say, of two hours, what will be the condition of the drop of blood? It will consist of a drop of clear, nearly colorless liquid in the middle of which will be a small, tough red clot. Supposing such a drop to be taken up on a piece of white paper, what would be its appearance? The paper would be wetted by the colorless liquid, and the solid clot would probably adhere to the paper in a mass. Would the blood on the paper appear as a clear red liquid? Certainly not. The liquid would appear like water, and the clot would appear like a solid mass sticking to the paper. Does blood always behave in the way you've described? Always, unless some artificial means are taken to prevent it from clotting. By what means can blood be prevented from clotting or solidifying? There are two principle methods. One is to stir or whip the fresh blood rapidly with a bundle of fine twigs. When this is done, the fibrin, the part of the blood that causes solidification, adheres to the twigs, and the blood that remains, though it is unchanged in appearance, will remain liquid for an indefinite time. The other method is to dissolve a certain proportion of some alkaline salt in the fresh blood, after which it no longer has any tendency to solidify. You have heard the evidence of Inspector Sanderson and Sergeant Bates? Yes. Inspector Sanderson has told us that he examined the safe at 10.31 a.m. and found two good-sized drops of blood on the bottom. Sergeant Bates told us that he examined the safe two hours later, and that he took up one of the drops of blood on a piece of white paper. The blood was then quite liquid, and on the paper it looked like a clear, red liquid of the color of blood. What should you consider the condition and nature of that blood to have been? If it was really blood at all, I should say it was either defibrinated blood, that is, blood from which the fibrin has been extracted by whipping, or that it has been treated with an alkaline salt. You are of the opinion that the blood found in the safe could not have been ordinary blood shed from a cut or wound. I am sure it could not have been. Now, Dr. Rowe, I'm going to ask you a few questions on another subject. Have you given any attention to fingerprints made by bloody fingers? Yes, I have recently made some experiments on the subject. Will you give us the results of those experiments? My object was to ascertain whether fingers went with fresh blood would yield distinct and characteristic prints. I made a great number of trials, and as a result found that it is extremely difficult to obtain a clear print when the finger is wetted with fresh blood. The usual result is a mere red blot showing no ridge pattern at all, owing to the blood filling the furrows between the ridges. But if the blood is allowed to dry almost completely on the finger, a very clear print is obtained. Is it possible to recognize a print that has been made by a nearly dry finger? Yes, quite easily. The half-dry blood is nearly solid and adheres to the paper in a different way from the liquid, and it shows minute details, such as the mouths of the sweat glands, which are always obliterated by the liquid. Look carefully at this paper, which was found in the safe, and tell me what you see. The witness took the paper and examined it attentively, first with a naked eye, then with a pocket lens. I see, said he, two blood marks and a print, apparently of a thumb. Of the two marks, one is a blot, smeared slightly by the finger or thumb, and the other is a smear only. Both were evidently produced with quite liquid blood. The thumbprint was also made with liquid blood. You are quite sure that the thumbprint was made with liquid blood? Quite sure. Is there anything unusual about the thumbprint? Yes, it is extraordinarily clear and distinct. I've made a great number of trials and have endeavored to obtain the clearest prints possible with fresh blood, but none of my prints are nearly as distinct as this one. Here the witness produced a number of sheets of paper, each of which was covered with the prints of bloody fingers, and compared them with the memorandum slip. The papers were handed to the judge for inspection and antsy sat down, when Sir Hector Trumpler rose with a somewhat puzzled expression on his face to cross-examine. You say that the blood found in the safe was defibrinated or artificially treated. What inference do you draw from that fact? I infer that it was not dropped from a bleeding wound. Can you form any idea how such blood should have got into the safe? None whatever. You say that the thumbprint is a remarkably distinct one. What conclusion do you draw from that? I do not draw any conclusion. I cannot account for its distinctness at all. The learned counsel sat down with a rather baffled air, and I observed a faint smile spread over the continents of my colleague. Arabella Hornby, a muffled whimpering from my neighbor on the left, was accompanied by a wild rustling of silk. Glancing at Mrs. Hornby, I saw her stagger from the bench, shaking like a jelly, mopping her eyes with her handkerchief and grasping her open purse. She entered the witness box, and having gazed wildly around the court, began to search the multitudinous compartments of her purse. The evidence you shall give, saying at the usher, were at Mrs. Hornby, paused her search and stared at him apprehensively. To the court and jury's sworn, between our sovereign lord, the king, and the prisoner at the bar, shall be the truth. Certainly, said Mrs. Hornby stiffly, I, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God. He held out the testament, which she took from him with a trembling hand, and forthwith dropped with a resounding bang on the floor of the witness box, diving after with such precipity that her bonnet jammed violently against the rail of the box. She disappeared from view for a moment, and then rose from the depths with a purple face and her bonnet flattened and cocked over one ear like an artillery man's forage cap. Kiss the book, if you please, said the usher, suppressing a grin by a heroic effort, as Mrs. Hornby, encumbered by her purse, her handkerchief and the testament, struggled to unfasten her bonnet strings. She clawed frantically at her bonnet, and, having dusted the testament with her handkerchief, kissed it tenderly and laid it on the rail of the box, whence it fell instantly onto the floor of the court. I am really very sorry, exclaimed Mrs. Hornby, leaning over the rail to address the usher as he stooped to pick up the book, and discharging on to his back a stream of coins, buttons and folded bills from her open purse. You will think me very awkward, I am afraid. She mopped her face and replaced her bonnet rakishly on one side, as enstee rose and passed a small red book across to her. Kindly look at that book, Mrs. Hornby. I'd rather not, she said, with a gesture of repugnance, is associated with matters of so extremely disagreeable a character. Do you recognize it? Do I recognize it? How can you ask me such a question when you must know? After the question, it opposed the judge. Do you or do you not recognize the book in your hand? Of course I recognize it. How could I fail to? Then say so, said the judge. I have said so, retorted Mrs. Hornby, indignantly. The judge nodded to enstee, who then continued. It is called a thumbograph, I believe. Yes, the name thumbograph is printed on the cover, so I suppose that's what it is called. Will you tell us, Mrs. Hornby, how the thumbograph came into your possession? For one moment Mrs. Hornby stared wildly at her interrogator. Then she snatched a paper from her purse, unfolded it, gazed at it with an expression of dismay, and crumpled it up in the palm of her hand. You are asked a question, said the judge. Oh yes, said Mrs. Hornby. The Committee of the Society, no, that is the wrong one. I mean Walter, you know. At least. I beg your pardon, said Anstee, with polite gravity. You were speaking of the Committee of some society, and opposed the judge. What society were you referring to? Mrs. Hornby spread out the paper, and after a glance at it replied, the society of paralyzed idiots, your worship, were upon a rumble of suppressed laughter arose from the gallery. But what has that society to do with the thumbograph, inquired the judge? Nothing, your worship, nothing at all. Then why did you refer to it? I'm sure I don't know, said Mrs. Hornby, wiping her eyes with the paper and then hastily exchanging it for her handkerchief. The judge took off his glasses and gazed at Mrs. Hornby with an expression of bewilderment. Then he turned to the council and said in a weary voice, proceed, if you please, Mr. Anstee. Can you tell us, Mrs. Hornby, how the thumbograph came into your possession? said the latter in persuasive accents. I thought it was Walter, and so did my niece. But Walter says it was not, and he ought to know, being young and having a most excellent memory, as I myself when I was his age, and really, you know, it can't possibly matter where I got the thing. But it does matter, interrupted Anstee. We wish particularly to know. If you mean that you wish to get one like it, we do not, said Anstee. We wish to know how that particular thumbograph came into your possession. Did you, for instance, buy it yourself, or was it given to you by someone? Walter says I bought it myself, but I thought he gave it to me, but he says he did not. And you see, never mind what Walter says. What is your own impression? Why, I still think that he gave it to me, though, of course, seeing that my memory is not what it was, you think that Walter gave it to you? Yes, in fact, I feel sure he did, and so does my niece. Walter is your nephew, Walter Hornby. Yes, of course, I thought you knew. Can you recall the occasion on which the thumbograph was given to you? Oh, yes, quite distinctly. We had some people to dinner, some people named Coley. Not the dorscher Coley's, you know, although they are exceedingly nice people, as I have no doubt the other Coley's are, too, when you know them, but we don't. Well, after dinner we were a little dull and rather at a loss, because Juliet, my niece, you know, had cut her finger and couldn't play the piano excepting with the left hand, and that is so monotonous as well as the teging, and the Coley's are not musical, excepting Adolphus, who placed the trombone, but he hadn't got it with him, and then, fortunately, Walter came in and brought the thumbograph, and took all our thumbprints and his own as well, and we were very much amused, and Matilda Coley, that is the eldest daughter of at one, said that Ruben jogged her elbow, but that was only an excuse. Exactly, interrupted Einstein. And do you recollect quite clearly that your nephew Walter gave you the thumbograph on that occasion? Oh, distinctly, though you know, he is really my husband's nephew. Yes, and are you sure that he took the thumbprints? Quite sure. Are you sure that you never saw the thumbograph before that? Never. How could I? He hadn't brought it. Have you ever lent the thumbograph to anyone? No, never. No one has ever wanted to borrow it, because you see, has it never, at any time, gone out of your possession? Oh, I wouldn't say that. In fact, I have often thought, though I hate suspecting people, and I don't really suspect anybody in particular, you know, but it certainly was very peculiar, and I can't explain it in any other way. You see, I kept the thumbograph in a drawer in my writing-table, and in the same drawer I used to keep my handkerchief bag. In fact, I do still, and it is there at this very moment, from my hurry and agitation. I forgot all about it until we were in the cab, and then it was too late, because Mr. Lauri, yes, you kept it in a drawer with your handkerchief bag? That was what I said. Well, when Mr. Hornby was staying at Brighton, he wrote to ask me to go down for a week and bring Juliet, Miss Gibson, you know, with me. So we went, and, just as we were starting, I sent Juliet to fetch my handkerchief bag from the drawer, and I said to her, perhaps we might take the thumbbook with us. It might come in useful on a wet day. So she went, and presently she came back and said that the thumbograph was not in the drawer. Well, I was so surprised that I went back with her and looked myself, and sure enough the drawer was empty. Well, I didn't think much of it at the time, but when we came home again, as soon as we got out of the cab, I gave Juliet my handkerchief bag to put away, and presently she came running to me in a great state of excitement. Why, Auntie, she said, the thumbograph is in the drawer. Somebody must have been meddling with your writing table. I went with her to the drawer, and there, sure enough, was the thumbograph. Somebody must have taken it out and put it back while we were away. Who could have access to your writing table? Oh, anybody, because you see, the drawers were never locked. We thought it must have been one of the servants. Had anyone been to the house during your absence? No. Nobody except, of course, my two nephews, and neither of them had touched it, because we asked them, and they both said they had not. Thank you. Auntie sat down in Mrs. Hornby, having given another correcting twist to her bonnet, was about to step down from the box when Sir Hector rose, and bestowed upon her an intimidating stare. You made some reference, said he, to a society, the society of paralyzed idiots, I think, whatever that may be. Now what caused you to make that reference? It was a mistake. I was thinking of something else. I know it was a mistake. You referred to a paper that was in your hand. I did not refer to it. I merely looked at it. It's a letter from the society of paralyzed idiots. It has nothing to do with me, really, you know. I don't belong to the society, or anything of that sort. Did you mistake that paper for some other paper? Yes. I took it for a paper with some notes on it to assist my memory. What kind of notes? Oh, just the questions I was likely to be asked. Were the answers that you were to give to those questions also written on the paper? Of course they were. The questions would not have been any use without the answers. Have you been asked the questions that were written on the paper? Yes, at least some of them. Have you given the answers that were written down? I don't think I have. In fact, I'm sure I haven't, because you see, ah, you don't think you have, Sir Hector Trumpler smiled significantly at the jury, and continued. Now who wrote down those questions and answers? My nephew, Walter Hornby, he thought, you know, never mind what he thought. Who advised or instructed him to write them down? Nobody. It was entirely his own idea, and very thoughtful of him, too, though Dr. Gervis took the paper away from me and said I must rely on my memory. Sir Hector was evidently rather taken aback by this answer, and sat down suddenly with a distinctly chat-fallen error. Where is the paper on which the questions and answers are written, asked the judge? In anticipation of this inquiry I had already handed it to Thorndike, and had noted by the significant glance that he bestowed on me that he had not failed to observe the peculiarity in the type. Indeed the matter was presently put beyond all doubt, for he hastily passed me a scrap of paper on which I found, when I opened it, that he had written X equals WH. Mr. Anstie handed the rather questionable document up to the judge. I glanced at Walter Hornby, and observed him to flush angrily, though he strove to appear calm and unconcerned, and the look that he directed at his aunt was very much the reverse of benevolent. Is this the paper, asked the judge, passing it down to the witness? Yes, Your Worship, answered Mrs. Hornby in a tremulous voice, whereupon the document was returned to the judge who proceeded to compare it with his notes. I shall order this document to be impounded, he said sternly, after making a brief comparison. There has been a distinct attempt to tamper with witnesses. Proceed with your case, Mr. Anstie. There was a brief pause during which Mrs. Hornby tottered across the court and resumed her seat, gasping with excitement and relief. Then the usher called out. John Evelyn Thorndike. Thank God, exclaimed Julia, clasping her hands. Oh, will he be able to save Ruben? Do you think he will, Dr. Jervis? There is somebody who thinks he will, I replied, glancing toward Polton, who, clasping in his arms the mysterious box and holding on to the microscopic case, gazed at his master with a smile of ecstasy. Polton has more faith than you have, Ms. Gibson. Yes, the dear, faithful little man, she rejoined. Well, we shall know the worst very soon now at any rate. The worst or the best, I said. We are now going to hear what the defense really is. God grant that it may be a good defense, she exclaimed in a low voice. And I, though not ordinarily a religious man, murmured, amen. End of chapter 15. Chapter 16 of the Red Thumb Mark. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. I'm recording by Mary Ann. The Red Thumb Mark by R. Austin Freeman. Chapter 16. Thorndike Plays His Cards. As Thorndike took his place in the box, I looked at him with a sense of unreasonable surprise, feeling that I had never before fully realized what manner of man my friend was as to his externals. I had often noted the quiet strength of his face, its infinite intelligence, its attractiveness, and magnetism. But I had never before appreciated what now impressed me most. That Thorndike was actually the handsomest man I had ever seen. He was dressed simply, his appearance unaided by the flowing gown or awe-inspiring wig, and yet his presence dominated the court. Even the judge, despite his scarlet robe and trappings of office, looked commonplace by comparison, while the jurymen, who turned to look at him, seemed like beings of an inferior order. It was not alone the distinction of the tall figure, erect and dignified, nor the power and massive composure of his face, but the actual symmetry and comeliness of the face itself that now arrested my attention. A comeliness that made it akin rather to some classic mask wrought in the ivory-toned marble of Pentalicus, than to the eager faces that move around us in the hurry and bustle of a life at once strenuous and trivial. You are attached to the medical school at St. Margaret's Hospital, I believe, Dr. Thorndike? said Anstie. Yes. I am the lecturer on medical jurisprudence and toxicology. Have you had much experience of medical-legal inquiries? A great deal. I am engaged exclusively in medical-legal work. You heard the evidence relating to the two drops of blood found in the safe? I did. What is your opinion as to the condition of that blood? I should say there is no doubt that it has been artificially treated, probably by defibrination. Can you suggest any explanation of the condition of that blood? I can. Is your explanation connected with any peculiarities in the thumbprint on the paper that was found in the safe? It is. Have you given any attention to the subject of fingerprints? Yes. A great deal of attention. Be good enough to examine that paper. Through the usher handed to Thorndike the memorandum slip. Have you seen it before? Yes. I saw it at Scotland Yard. Did you examine it thoroughly? Very thoroughly. The police officials gave me every facility and, with their permission, I took several photographs of it. There is a mark on that paper resembling the print of a human thumb. There is. You have heard two expert witnesses swear that that mark was made by the left thumb of the prisoner, Ruben Hornby? I have. Do you agree to that statement? I do not. In your opinion, was the mark on that paper made by the thumb of the prisoner? No. I am convinced that it was not made by the thumb of Ruben Hornby. Do you think it was made by the thumb of some other person? No. I am of the opinion that it was not made by a human thumb at all. At this statement the judge paused for a moment, pen in hand, and stared at Thorndyke with his mouth slightly open, while the two experts looked at one another with raised eyebrows. By what means do you consider the mark was produced? By means of a stamp, either of India rubber or, more probably, of chroma-sized gelatine. Here Poulton, who had, then, by degrees, rising to an erect posture, smote his thigh a resounding thwack, and chuckled aloud, a proceeding that caused all eyes, including those of the judge, to be turned upon him. If that noise is repeated, said the judge with a stony stare at the horrified offender, who had shrunk into the very smallest space that I have ever seen a human being occupy, I shall cause the person who made it to be removed from the court. I understand, then, pursued ensty, that you consider the thumbprint, which has been sworn to as the prisoners, to be a forgery. Yes, it is a forgery. But is it possible to forge a thumbprint or a fingerprint? It is not only possible, but quite easy to do. As easy as to forge a signature, for instance? Much more so, and infinitely more secure. A signature being written with a pen requires that the forgery should also be written with a pen, a process demanding a very special skill, and, after all, never resulting in an absolute facsimile. But a fingerprint is a stamped impression, the fingertip being the stamp. And it is only necessary to obtain a stamp identical in character with the fingertip in order to produce an impression, which is an absolute facsimile, in every respect, of the original, and totally indistinguishable from it. Would there be no means at all of detecting the difference between a forged fingerprint and the genuine original? None whatever, for the reason that there would be no difference to detect. But you have stated quite positively that the thumbprint on this paper is a forgery. Now, if the forged print is indistinguishable from the original, how are you able to be certain that this particular print is a forgery? I was speaking of what is possible with due care, but obviously a forger might, through inadvertence, fail to produce an absolute facsimile, and then detection would be possible. That is what happened in the present case. The forged print is not an absolute facsimile of the true print. There is a slight discrepancy. But in addition to this, the paper bears intrinsic evidence that the thumbprint on it is a forgery. We will consider that evidence presently, Dr. Thorndike. To return to the possibility of forging a fingerprint, can you explain to us, without being too technical, by what methods it would be possible to produce such a stamp as you have referred to? There are two principle methods that suggest themselves to me. The first, which is rather crude, though easy to carry out, consists in taking an actual cast of the end of the finger. A mold would be made by pressing the finger into some plastic material, such as fine molding clay or hot sealing wax, and then, by pouring a warm solution of gelatin into the mold and allowing it to cool and solidify, a cast would be produced, which would yield very perfect fingerprints. But this method would, as a rule, be useless for the purpose of the forger, as it could not ordinarily be carried out without the knowledge of the victim, though in the case of dead bodies and persons asleep or unconscious, or under an anesthetic, it could be practiced with success, and would offer the advantage of requiring practically no technical skill or knowledge and no special appliances. The second method, which is much more efficient, and is the one I have no doubt that has been used in the present instance, requires more knowledge and skill. In the first place, it is necessary to obtain possession of, or access to, a genuine fingerprint. Of this fingerprint, a photograph is taken, or rather, a photographic negative, which, for this purpose, requires to be taken on a reversed plate. And the negative is put into a special printing frame with a plate of gelatin which has been treated with potassium bichromate, and the frame is exposed to light. Now, gelatin treated in this way, chroma-sized gelatin, as it is called, has a very peculiar property. Ordinary gelatin, as is well known, is easily dissolved in hot water. And chroma-sized gelatin is also soluble in hot water, as long as it is not exposed to light. But on being exposed to light, it undergoes a change, and is no longer capable of being dissolved in hot water. Now the plate of chroma-sized gelatin under the negative is protected from the light by the opaque parts of the negative, whereas the light passes freely through the transparent parts. But the transparent parts of the negative correspond to the black marks on the fingerprint, and these correspond to the ridges on the finger. Hence, it follows that the gelatin plate is acted upon by light only in the parts corresponding to the ridges. And in these parts, the gelatin is rendered insoluble while all the rest of the gelatin is soluble. The gelatin plate, which is cemented to a thin piece of metal for support, is now carefully washed with hot water, by which the soluble part of the gelatin is dissolved away, leaving the insoluble part, corresponding to the ridges, standing up from the surface. Thus there is produced a facsimile in relief of the fingerprint, having actual ridges and furrows, identical in character with the ridges and furrows of the fingertip. If an inked roller is passed over this relief, or if the relief is pressed lightly on an inked slab and then pressed on a sheet of paper, a fingerprint will be produced, which will be absolutely identical with the original, even to the little white spots which mark the orifices of the sweat glands. It will be impossible to discover any difference between the real fingerprint and the counterfeit, because in fact, no difference exists. But surely the process you have described is a very difficult and intricate one. Not at all. It is very little more difficult than ordinary carbon printing, which is practiced successfully by numbers of amateurs. Moreover, such a relief as I have described, which is practically nothing more than an ordinary process block, could be produced by any photo engraver. The process that I have described is, in all essentials, that which is used in the reproduction of pen and ink drawings, and any of the hundreds of workmen who are employed in that industry could make a relief block of a fingerprint, with which an undetectable forgery could be executed. You have asserted that the counterfeit fingerprint could not be distinguished from the original. Are you prepared to furnish proof that this is the case? Yes. I am prepared to execute a counterfeit of the prisoner's thumbprint in the presence of the court. And do you say that such a counterfeit would be indistinguishable from the original, even by the experts? I do. Anstie turned towards the judge. Would your lordship give permission for a demonstration such as the witness proposes? Certainly, replied the judge. The evidence is highly material. How do you propose that the comparison should be made? He asked, addressing Thorndike. I've brought for the purpose, my lord, answered Thorndike, some sheets of paper, each of which is ruled into 20 numbered squares. I propose to make on 10 of the squares counterfeits of the prisoner's thumbmark, and to fill the remaining 10 with the real thumbmarks. I propose that the expert should then examine the paper and tell the court which are the real thumbprints and which are the false. That seems a fair and efficient test, said his lordship. Have you any objection to offer, Sir Hector? Sir Hector Trumpler hastily consulted with the two experts who were sitting in the attorney's bench, and then replied without much enthusiasm. We have no objection to offer, my lord. Then in that case, I shall direct the expert witnesses to withdraw from the court while the prints are being made. In obedience to the judge's order, Mr. Singleton and his colleague rose and left the court with evident reluctance, while Thorndike took from a small portfolio three sheets of paper, which he handed up to the judge. If your lordship, said he, will make marks in 10 of the squares on two of these sheets. One can be given to the jury and one retained by your lordship to check the third sheet when the prints are made on it. That is an excellent plan, said the judge. And as the information is for myself and the jury, it would be better if you came up and performed the actual stamping on my table in the presence of the foreman of the jury and the counsel for the prosecution and defense. In accordance with the judge's direction, Thorndike stepped up on the DS and Ansty, as he rose to follow, leaned over towards me. You and Polton had better go up, too, said he. Thorndike will want your assistance, and you may as well see the fun, I will explain to his lordship. He ascended the stairs leading to the DS and addressed a few words to the judge, who glanced in our direction and nodded, whereupon we both gleefully followed our counsel, Polton carrying the box and beaming with delight. The judge's table was provided with a shallow drawer, which pulled out at the side and which accommodated the box comfortably, leaving the small tabletop free for the papers. When the lid of the box was raised, there were displayed a copper inking slab, a small roller, and the 24 pawns, which had so puzzled Polton, and on which he now gazed with a twinkle of amusement and triumph. Are those all stamps? inquired the judge glancing curiously at the array of turned wood handles. They're all stamps, my lord, replied Thorndike, and each is taken from a different impression of the prisoner's thumb. But why so many? asked the judge. I have multiplied them, answered Thorndike, as he squeezed out a drop of fingerprint ink onto the slab and proceeded to roll it out into a thin film. To avoid the tell-tale uniformity of a single stamp, and I may say, he added, that it is highly important that the expert should not be informed that more than one stamp has been used. Yes, I see that, said the judge. You understand that, Sir Hector? He added, addressing the council, who bowed stiffly, clearly regarding the entire proceeding with extreme disfavor. Thorndike now inked one of the stamps and handed it to the judge, who examined it curiously, and then pressed it on a piece of waste paper, on which there immediately appeared a very distinct impression of a human thumb. Marvelous, he exclaimed. Most ingenious, too ingenious, he chuckled softly and added, as he handed the stamp and the paper to the foreman of the jury. It is well, Dr. Thorndike, that you are on the side of law and order, for I'm afraid that if you were on the other side, you would be one too many for the police. Now, if you are ready, we will proceed. Will you please stamp an impression in square number three? Thorndike drew a stamp from its compartment, inked it on the slab, and pressed it neatly on the square indicated, leaving there a sharp, clear thumbprint. The process was repeated on nine other squares, a different stamp being used for each impression. The judge then marked the 10 corresponding squares of the other two sheets of paper, and having checked them, directed the foreman to exhibit the sheet bearing the false thumbprints to the jury, together with the marked sheet, which they were to retain, to enable them to check the statements of the expert witnesses. When this was done, the prisoner was brought from the dock and stood beside the table. The judge looked with a curious and not unkindly interest at the handsome, manly fellow who stood charged with a crime so sordid and out of character with his appearance, and I felt, as I noted the look, that Ruben would at least be tried fairly on the evidence, without prejudice or even with some pre-possession in his favor. With the remaining part of the operation, Thorndike proceeded carefully and deliberately. The inking slab was rolled afresh for each impression, and, after each, the thumb was cleansed with petrol and thoroughly dried, and when the process was completed, and the prisoner led back to the dock, the twenty squares on the paper were occupied by twenty thumbprints, which, to my eye at any rate, were identical in character. The judge sat for near upon a minute, pouring over the singular document, with an expression halfway between a frown and a smile. At length, when we had returned to our places, he directed the usher to bring in the witnesses. I was amused to observe the change that had come over the experts in the short interval. The confident smile, the triumphant air of laying down a trump card, had vanished, and the expression of both was one of anxiety, not un-mixed with apprehension. As Mr. Singleton advanced hesitatingly to the table, I recalled the words that he had uttered in his room at Scotland Yard. Evidently, his scheme of the game that was to end in an easy checkmate had not included the move that had just been made. Mr. Singleton, said the judge, here is a paper on which there are twenty thumbprints. Ten of them are genuine prints of the prisoner's left thumb and ten are forgeries. Please examine them and note down in writing which are the true prints and which are the forgeries. When you have major notes, the paper will be handed to Mr. Nash. Is there any objection to my using the photograph that I have with me for comparison, my lord? Asked Mr. Singleton. I think not, replied the judge. What do you say, Mr. Anstey? No objection, whatever, my lord, answered Anstey. Mr. Singleton accordingly drew from his pocket an enlarged photograph of the thumbprint and a magnifying glass, with the aid of which he explored the bewildering array of prints on the paper before him. And as he proceeded, I remarked with satisfaction that his expression became more and more dubious and worried. From time to time he made an entry on a memorandum slip beside him. And as the entries accumulated, his frown grew deeper and his aspect more puzzled and gloomy. At length he set up and taking the memorandum slip in his hand, addressed the judge. I have finished my examination, my lord. Very well, Mr. Nash, will you kindly examine the paper and write down the results of your examination? Oh, I wish they would make haste, whispered Julia. Do you think they will be able to tell the real from the false thumbprints? I can't say, I replied, but we shall soon know. They looked all alike to me. Mr. Nash made his examination with exasperating deliberateness and preserved throughout an air of stolid attention. But at length he, too, completed his notes and handed the paper back to the usher. Now, Mr. Singleton, said the judge, let us hear your conclusions. You have been sworn. Mr. Singleton stepped into the witness box and, laying his notes on the ledge, faced the judge. Have you examined the paper that was handed to you? Asked Sir Hector Trumpler. I have. What did you see on the paper? I saw 20 thumbprints of which some were evident forgeries, some were evidently genuine and some were doubtful. Taking the thumbprints, Sir Yatim, what have you noted about them? Mr. Singleton examined his notes and replied, the thumbprint on square one is evidently a forgery, as is also number two, though it is a passable imitation. Three and four are genuine, five is an obvious forgery, six is a genuine thumbprint, seven is a forgery, though a good one, eight is genuine, nine is, I think, a forgery, though it is a remarkably good imitation, 10 and 11 are genuine thumbmarks, 12 and 13 are forgeries, but as to 14 I am very doubtful, though I am inclined to regard it as a forgery, 15 is genuine and I think 16 is also, but I will not swear to it. 17 is certainly genuine, 18 and 19 I am rather doubtful about, but I am disposed to consider them both forgeries, 20 is certainly a genuine thumbprint. As Mr. Singleton's evidence proceeded, a look of surprise began to make its appearance on the judge's face, while the jury glanced from the witness to the notes before them and from their notes to one another in undisguised astonishment. As to Sir Hector Trumpler, that luminary of British jurisprudence was evidently completely fogged, for as statement followed statement, he pursed his lips and his broad red face became overshadowed by an expression of utter bewilderment. For a few seconds he stared blankly at his witness and then dropped on his seat with a thump that shook the court. You have no doubt, said Ansty, as to the correctness of your conclusions, for instance, you are quite sure that the Prince I and II are forgeries? I have no doubt. You swear that those two Prince are forgeries? Mr. Singleton hesitated for a moment. He had been watching the judge and jury and had apparently misinterpreted their surprise, assuming it to be due to his own remarkable powers of discrimination and his confidence had revived accordingly. Yes, he answered. I swear that they are forgeries. Ansty sat down and Mr. Singleton, having passed his nose up to the judge, retired from the box giving place to his colleague. Mr. Nash, who had listened with manifest satisfaction to the evidence, stepped into the box with all his original confidence restored. His selection of the true and the false thumbprints was practically identical with that of Mr. Singleton and his knowledge of this fact led him to state his conclusions with an air that was authoritative and even dogmatic. I am quite satisfied of the correctness of my statements, he said in reply to Ansty's question, and I am prepared to swear and do swear that those thumbprints which I have stated to be forgeries are forgeries and that their detection presents no difficulty to an observer who has an expert acquaintance with fingerprints. There is one question that I should like to ask, said the judge when the expert had left the box and Thorndike had re-entered it to continue his evidence. The conclusions of the expert witnesses, manifestly bonafide conclusions, arrived at by individual judgment without collusion or comparison of results, are practically identical. They are virtually in complete agreement. Now the strange thing is this, their conclusions are wrong in every instance. Here I nearly laughed aloud for, as I glanced at the two experts, the expression of smug satisfaction on their countenances changed with lightning rapidity to a ludicrous spasm of consternation. Not sometimes wrong and sometimes right as would have been the case if they had made mere guesses, but wrong every time. When they are quite certain, they are quite wrong and when they are doubtful, they inclined to the wrong conclusion. This is a very strange coincidence, Dr. Thorndike. Can you explain it? Thorndike's face, which throughout the proceedings had been as expressionless as that of a wooden figurehead, now relaxed into a dry smile. I think I can, my lord, he replied. The object of a forger in executing a forgery is to produce deception on those who shall examine the forgery. Ah, said the judge, and his face relaxed into a dry smile while the jury broke out into unconcealed grins. It was evident to me, continued Thorndike, that the experts would be unable to distinguish the reel from the forged thumbprints, and that being so, that they would look for some collateral evidence to guide them. I therefore supplied that collateral evidence. Now, if ten prints are taken without special precautions from a single finger, it will probably happen that no two of them are exactly alike, for the finger being a rounded object of which only a small part touches the paper. The impressions produced will show little variations according to the part of the finger by which the print is made. But a stamp such as I have used has a flat surface, like that of a printer's type, and, like a type, it always prints the same impression, and it does not reproduce the fingertip, but a particular print of the finger, and so, if ten prints are made with a single stamp, each print will be a mechanical repetition of the other nine. Loss on a sheet bearing twenty fingerprints of which ten were forgeries made with a single stamp, it would be easy to pick out the ten forged prints by the fact that they would all be mechanical repetitions of one another, while the genuine prints could be distinguished by the fact of their presenting trifling variations in the position of the finger. Anticipating this line of reasoning, I was careful to make each print with a different stamp, and each stamp was made from a different thumb print, and I further selected thumb prints which varied as widely as possible when I made the stamps. Moreover, when I made the real thumb prints, I was careful to put the thumb down in the same position each time as far as I was able, and so it happened that, on the sheet submitted to the experts, the real thumb prints were nearly all alike, while the forgeries presented considerable variations. The instances in which the witnesses were quite certain were those in which I succeeded in making the genuine prints repeat one another, and the doubtful cases were those in which I partially failed. Thank you, that is quite clear, said the judge, with a smile of deep contentment, such as is apt to appear on the judicial continents when an expert witness is knocked off his pedestal. We may now proceed, Mr. Anstey. You have told us, resumed Anstey, and have submitted proofs that it is possible to forge a thumb print so that detection is impossible. You have also stated that the thumb print on the paper found in Mr. Hornsby's safe is a forgery. Do you mean to say that it may be a forgery or that it actually is one? I mean that it actually is a forgery. When did you first come to the conclusion that it was a forgery? When I saw it at Scotland Yard, there are three facts which suggested this conclusion. In the first place, the print was obviously produced with liquid blood, and yet it was a beautifully clear and distinct impression, but such an impression could not be produced with liquid blood without the use of a slab and roller, even if great care were used, and still less could it have been produced by an accidental smear. In the second place, on measuring the print with a micrometer, I found that it did not agree in dimensions with a genuine thumb print of Ruben Hornby. It was appreciably larger. I photographed the print with a micrometer in contact, and on comparing this with a genuine thumb print, also photographed with the same micrometer in contact, I found that the suspected print was larger by the 40th of an inch, from one given point on the ridge pattern to another given point. I have here the enlargements of the two photographs in which the disagreement in size is clearly shown by the lines of the micrometer. I have also the micrometer itself and a portable microscope, if the court wishes to verify the photographs. Thank you, said the judge with a bland smile. We will accept your sworn testimony unless the learned counsel for the prosecution demands verification. He received the photographs which Thorndike handed up and, having examined them with close attention, passed them on to the jury. End of Chapter 16, Part 1 Chapter 16 of the Red Thumb Mark This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Ann. The Red Thumb Mark by R. Austin Freeman. Chapter 16 Thorndike Plays His Cards, Part 2 The third fact, resumed Thorndike, is of much more importance since it not only proves the print to be a forgery but also furnishes a very distinct clue to the origin of the forgery and so to the identity of the forger. Here the court became hushed until the silence was so profound that the ticking of the clock seemed a sensible interruption. I glanced at Walter, who sat motionless and rigid at the end of the bench and perceived that a horrible pallor had spread over his face while his forehead was covered with beads of perspiration. On looking at the print closely, I noticed at one part a minute white mark or space. It was of the shape of a capital S and had evidently been produced by a defect in the paper. A loose fiber which had stuck to the thumb and had been detached by it from the paper, leaving a blank space where it had been. But, on examining the paper under a low power of the microscope, I found the surface to be perfect and intact. No loose fiber had been detached from it, for if it had, the broken end or, at least, the groove in which it had lain would have been visible. The inference seemed to be that the loose fiber had existed not in the paper which was found in the safe, but in the paper on which the original thumb mark had been made. Now, as far as I know, there was only one undoubted thumbprint of Ruben Hornby's in existence, the one in the thumbograph. At my request the thumbograph was brought to my chambers by Mrs. Hornby and, on examining the print of Ruben Hornby's left thumb, I perceived on it a minute S-shaped white space occupying a similar position to that in the red thumb mark. And when I looked at it through a powerful lens, I could see clearly the little groove in the paper in which the fiber had lain and from which it had been lifted by the inked thumb. I subsequently made a systematic comparison of the marks in the two thumb prints. I found that the dimensions of the mark were proportionally the same in each, that is to say the mark in the thumbograph print had an extreme length of twenty-six one-thousandth of an inch and an extreme breadth of fourteen point five one-thousandth of an inch. While that in the red thumb mark was one-fortieth larger in each dimension, having an extreme length of twenty-six point sixty-five one-thousandth of an inch and an extreme breadth of fourteen point eighty-six one-thousandth of an inch, that the shape was identical, as was shown by superimposing the tracings of greatly enlarged photographs of each mark on similar enlargements of the other and that the mark intersected the ridges of the thumb print in the same manner and at exactly the same parts in the two prints. Do you say that having regard to the facts which you have stated, it is certain that the red thumb mark is a forgery? I do. And I also say that it is certain that the forgery was executed by means of the thumbograph. Might not the resemblances be merely a coincidence? No. By the law of probabilities which Mr. Singleton explained so clearly in his evidence, the adverse chances would run into untold millions. Here are two thumb prints made in different places and at different times, an interval of many weeks intervening. Each of them bears an accidental mark which is due not to any peculiarity of the thumb, but to a peculiarity of the paper. On the theory of coincidences it is necessary to suppose that each piece of paper had a loose fiber of exactly identical shape and size and that this fiber came by accident in contact with the thumb at the exact same spot. But such a supposition would be more opposed to probabilities even than the supposition that two exactly similar thumb prints should have been made by different persons. And then there is the further fact that the paper found in the safe had no loose fiber to account for the mark. What is your explanation of the presence of defibrinated blood in the safe? It was probably used by the forger in making the thumbprint, for which purpose fresh blood would be less suitable by reason of its clotting. They probably have carried a small quantity in a bottle together with the pocket slab and roller invented by Mr. Galton. It would thus be possible for him to put a drop on the slab, roll it out into a thin film and take a clear impression with his stamp. It must be remembered that these precautions were quite necessary since he had to make a recognizable print at the first attempt. A failure and a second trial would have destroyed the accidental appearance and might have aroused suspicion. You have made some enlarged photographs of the thumbprints, have you not? Yes. I have here two enlarged photographs, one of the thumbprint and one of the red thumbprint. They both show the white mark very clearly and will assist comparison of the originals in which the mark is plainly visible through a lens. He handed the two photographs up to the judge together with the thumbograph, the memorandum slip and a powerful doublet lens with which to examine them. He suspected the two original documents with the aid of the lens and compared them with the photographs, nodded approvingly as he made out the points of agreement. Then he passed them on to the jury and made an entry in his notes. While this was going on my attention was attracted by Walter Hornby, an expression of terror and wild despair had settled on his face which was ghastly in its parlor and bedewed with sweat. He looked furtively at Thorndy again as I noted the murderous hate in his eyes. I recalled our midnight adventure in John Street and the mysterious cigar. Suddenly he rose to his feet wiping his brow and studying himself against the bench with a shaking hand. Then he walked quietly to the door and went out. Apparently I was not the only onlooker who had been interested in his doings for as the door swung to after him Superintendent Miller rose from his seat and went out by the other door. Are you cross-examining this witness, the judge inquired, glancing at Sir Hector Trumpler? No, my lord, was the reply. Are you calling any more witnesses, Mr. Anstey? Only one, my lord, replied Anstey. The prisoner whom I shall put in the witness box as a matter of form in order that he may make a statement on oath. Reuben was accordingly conducted from the dock to the witness box and, having been sworn, to the declaration of his innocence. A brief cross-examination followed in which nothing was elicited but that Reuben had spent the evening at his club and gone home to his rooms at half past eleven and had led himself in with his latch-key. Sir Hector at length sat down. The prisoner was led back to the dock and the court settled itself to listen to the speeches of the counsel. My lord and gentleman of the jury, Anstey commenced in his clear melotones. I do not propose to occupy your time with a long speech. The evidence that has been laid before you is at once so intelligible, so lucid, and so conclusive, that you will, no doubt, arrive at your verdict uninfluenced by any display of rhetoric, either on my part or on the part of the learned counsel for the prosecution. Nevertheless it is desirable to disentangle from the mass of evidence those facts which are really vital and crucial. Now the one fact which stands out and dominates the whole case is this. The prisoner's connection with this case rests solely upon the police theory of the infallibility of fingerprints. Apart from the evidence of the thumbprint there is not, and there never was, the faintest breath of suspicion against him. You have heard him described as a man of uncellied honour, as a man whose character is above reproach, a man who is trusted implicitly by those who have had dealings with him. And this character was not given by a casual stranger, but by one who has known him from his childhood. His record is an unbroken record of honourable conduct. His life has been that of a clean living, straightforward gentleman, and now he stands before you charged with a miserable, paltry theft, charged with having robbed that generous friend, the brother of his own father, the guardian of his childhood, planned and striven for his well-being. Charged, in short, gentlemen, with a crime which every circumstance connected with him and every trait of his known character renders utterly inconceivable. Now upon what grounds has this gentleman of irreproachable character been charged with this mean and sordid crime? Baldly stated, the grounds of the accusation are these. A certain learned and eminent man of science has made a statement which the police have not merely accepted but have, in practice, extended beyond its original meaning. That statement is as follows. A complete, or nearly complete, accordance between two prints of a single finger affords evidence requiring no co-operation that the persons from whom they were made are the same. That statement, gentlemen, is in the highest degree misleading and ought not to have been made without due warning and qualification. So far it is from being true, in practice, that its exact contrary is the fact. The evidence of a fingerprint in the absence of co-operation is absolutely worthless. Of all forms of forgery, the forgery of a fingerprint is the easiest and most secure as you have seen in this court today. Consider the character of the high-class forger, his skill, his ingenuity, his resource. Think of the forged banknotes of which not only the engraving, the design, and the signature, but even the very paper with its private water-marks is imitated with a perfection that is at once the admiration and the despair of those who have to distinguish the true from the false. Think of the forged check in which actual perforations are filled up, of which perforations are cut out bodily and replaced by indistinguishable patches. Think of these, and then of a fingerprint, of which any photo-engraver's apprentice can make you a forgery that the greatest experts cannot distinguish from the original, which any capable amateur can imitate beyond detection after a month's practice. And then ask yourselves if this is the kind of evidence on which without any support or co-operation a gentleman of honour and position should be dragged before a criminal court and charged with having committed a racist and most sordid type. But I must not detain you with unnecessary appeals. I will remind you briefly of the salient facts. The case for the prosecution rests upon the assertion that the thumbprint found in the safe was made by the thumb of the prisoner. If that thumbprint was not made by the prisoner there is not only no case against him but no suspicion of any kind. Now, was that thumbprint made by the prisoner's thumb? You have had conclusive evidence that it was not. That thumbprint differed in the size or scale of the pattern from a genuine thumbprint of the prisoners. The difference was small but it was fatal to the police theory. The two prints were not identical. But, if not the prisoner's thumbprint, what was it? The resemblance of the pattern was too exact for it to be the thumbprint of another person, for it reproduced not only the pattern of the ridges on the prisoner's thumb or the scar of an old wound. The answer that I propose to this question is that it was an intentional imitation of the prisoner's thumbprint made with the purpose of fixing suspicion on the prisoner and so ensuring the safety of the actual criminal. Are there any facts which support this theory? Yes, there are several facts which support it very strongly. First, there are the facts that I have just mentioned. The red thumbprint disagreed with a genuine thumbprint that mentions it was not the prisoner's thumbprint but neither was it that of any other person. The only alternative is that it was a forgery. In the second place, that print was evidently made with the aid of certain appliances and materials and one of those materials namely, defibrinated blood was found in the safe. In the third place there is the coincidence that the print was one which it was possible to forge. There were two digits, eight fingers and two thumbs but there were in existence actual prints of the two thumbs whereas no prints of the fingers were in existence. Hence it would have been impossible to forge a print of any of the fingers. So it happens that the red thumbprint resembled one of the two prints of which forgery was possible. In the fourth place the red thumbprint reproduces an accidental peculiarity of the thumbograph print. If the red thumbprint is a forgery it must have been made from the thumbograph print since there exists no other print from which it could have been made. Hence we have the striking fact that the red thumbprint is an exact replica including accidental peculiarities of the only print from which a forgery could have been made. The accidental S shaped mark in the thumbograph print is accounted for by the condition of the paper. The occurrence of this mark on the red thumbprint is not accounted for by any peculiarity of the paper and can be accounted for in no way excepting by assuming the one to be a copy of the other. The conclusion is thus inevitable that the red thumbprint is a photomechanical reproduction of the thumbograph print. But there is yet another point. If the red thumbprint is a forgery reproduced from the thumbograph print the forger must at some time have had access to the thumbograph. Now you have heard Mrs. Hornby's remarkable story of the mysterious disappearance of the thumbograph and its still more mysterious reappearance. That story can have left no doubt in your minds that some person had surreptitiously removed the thumbograph and, after an unknown interval secretly replaced it. Thus the theory of forgery receives confirmation at every point and is in agreement with every known fact. Whereas the theory that the red thumbprint was a genuine thumbprint is based upon a gratuitous assumption and has not had a single fact advanced in its support. Accordingly gentlemen I assert that the prisoner's innocence has been proved in the most complete and convincing manner and I ask you for a verdict in accordance with that proof. As Ansty resumed his seat a low rumble of applause was heard from the gallery. It subsided instantly on a gesture of disapproval from the judge and a silence fell upon the court in which the clock, with cynical indifference, continued to record in its brusque monotone the passage of the fleeting seconds. He is saved, Dr. Jervis. Oh, surely he is saved! Juliet exclaimed in an agitated whisper. They must see that he is innocent now. Have patience a little longer I answered. It will soon be over now. Sir Hector Trumpler was already on his feet and after bestowing on the jury a stern hypnotic stare he plunged into his reply with a really admirable air of conviction and sincerity. My Lord and gentlemen of the jury the case which is now before this court is one as I have already remarked in which human nature is presented in a highly unfavorable light. But I need not insist upon this aspect of the case which will already no doubt have impressed you sufficiently. It is necessary merely for me as my learned friend has aptly expressed it to disentangle the actual facts of the case from the web of causus tree that has been woven around them. Those facts are of extreme simplicity. A safe has been opened and property of great value abstracted from it. It has been opened by means of false keys. Now there are two men who have from time to time possession of the true keys and thus had the opportunity of making copies of them. When the safe is opened by its rightful owner the property is gone and there is found the thumbprint of one of these two men. That thumbprint was not there when the safe was closed. The man whose thumbprint is found is a left-handed man. The print is the print of a left thumb. It would seem gentlemen as if the conclusion was obvious that no sane person could be found to contest it and I submit that the conclusion which any sane person would arrive at the only possible conclusion is that the person whose thumbprint was found in the safe is the person who stole the property from the safe. But the thumbprint was, admittedly, that of the prisoner at the bar and therefore the prisoner at the bar with the diamonds from the safe. It is true that certain fantastic attempts have been made to explain away these obvious facts. Certain far-fetched scientific theories have been propounded and an exhibition of legere domain has taken place which, I venture to think, would have been more appropriate to some place of public entertainment than to a court of justice. That exhibition has, no doubt, been a pleasing relaxation from the serious business of the court. It has even been instructive as showing to what extent it is possible for plain facts to be perverted by misdirected ingenuity. But unless you are prepared to consider this crime as an elaborate hoax, as a practical joke carried out by a facetious criminal of extraordinary knowledge, skill, and general attainments, you must, after all, come to the only conclusion that the facts justify that the safe was opened and the property abstracted by the prisoner. Accordingly, gentlemen, I ask you, having regard to your important position as the guardians of the well-being and security of your fellow-citizens to give your verdict in accordance with the evidence as you have solemnly sworn to do, which verdict, I submit, can be no other than that the prisoner is guilty of the crime charged. Sir Hector sat down in the jury who had listened to his speech with solid attention gazed expectantly at the judge as though they should say, now which of these two are we to believe? The judge turned over his notes with an air of quiet composure, writing down a word here and there as he compared the various points in the evidence. Then he turned to the jury with a manner at once persuasive and confidential. It is not necessary, gentlemen, he commenced, for me to occupy your time with an exhaustive analysis of the evidence. That evidence you yourselves have heard and it has been given for the most part with admirable clearness. Moreover, the learned counsel for the defense has collated and compared the evidence so lucidly, and I may say, so impartially, that a detailed repetition on my part would be a supply-fluorous. I shall therefore confine myself to a few comments which may help you in the consideration of your verdict. I need hardly point out to you that the reference made by the learned counsel for the prosecution to far-fetched scientific theories is somewhat misleading. The only evidence of a theoretical character was that of the fingerprint experts. The evidence of Dr. Rowe and Dr. Thorndike dealt exclusively with matters of fact. Such inferences as were drawn by them were accompanied by statements of the facts which yielded such inferences. Now, an examination of the evidence which you have heard shows, as the learned counsel for the defense has justly observed, that the entire case resolves itself into a single question, which is this. Was the thumbprint that was found in Mr. Hornby's safe made by the thumb of the prisoner, or was it not? If that thumbprint was made by the prisoner's thumb, then the prisoner must, at least, have been present when the safe was unlawfully opened. If that thumbprint was not made by the prisoner's thumb, there is nothing to connect him with the crime. The question is one of fact upon which it will be your duty to decide, and I must remind you, gentlemen, that you are the sole judges of the facts of this case, and that you are to consider any remarks of mine as mere suggestions, which you are to entertain or to disregard according to your judgment. Now let us consider this question by the light of the evidence. This thumbprint was either made by the prisoner or it was not. What evidence has been brought forward to show that it was made by the prisoner? Well, there is evidence of the ridge pattern. That pattern is identical to the pattern of the prisoner's thumbprint, and even has the impression of a scar which crosses the pattern in a particular manner on the prisoner's thumbprint. There is no need to enter into the elaborate calculations as to the chances of agreement. The practical fact, which is not disputed, is that if this red thumbprint is a genuine thumbprint at all, it was made by the prisoner's thumb. But it is contended that it is not a genuine thumbprint, that it is a mechanical imitation, in fact, a forgery. The more general question thus becomes narrowed down to the more particular questions. Is this a genuine thumbprint or is it a forgery? Let us consider the evidence. First, what evidence is there that it is a genuine thumbprint? There is none. The identity of the pattern is no evidence on this point because a forgery would also exhibit identity of pattern. The weakness of the thumbprint was assumed by the prosecution and no evidence has been offered. But now what evidence is there that the red thumbprint is a forgery? First, there is the question of size. Two different sized prints could hardly be made by the same thumb. Then there is the evidence of the use of appliances. Safe robbers do not ordinarily provide themselves with inking slabs and rollers with which to make distinct impressions of their own fingers. Then there is the accidental mark on the print which also exists on the only genuine print that could have been used for the purpose of forgery which is easily explained on the theory of a forgery but which is otherwise totally incomprehensible. Finally, there is the strange disappearance of the thumbograph and its strange reappearance. All this is striking and weighty evidence to which must be added that induced by Dr. Thorndike as showing how perfectly it is possible to imitate a fingerprint. These are the main facts of the case and it is for you to consider them. If, on careful consideration you decide that the red thumbprint was actually made by the prisoner's thumb then it will be your duty to pronounce the prisoner guilty. But if, on weighing the evidence you decide that the thumbprint is a forgery then it will be your duty to pronounce the prisoner not guilty. It is now past the usual lunch an hour and if you desire it you can retire to consider your verdict in a few turns. The juryman whispered together for a few moments and then the foreman stood up. We have agreed on our verdict, my lord, he said. The prisoner who had just been led to the back of the dock was now brought back to the bar. The gray-wigged clerk of the court stood up and addressed the jury. Are you all agreed on your verdict, gentlemen? We are, replied the foreman. What do you say, gentlemen? Is the prisoner guilty or not guilty? Not guilty, replied the foreman, raising his voice and glancing at Reuben. A storm of applause burst from the gallery and was, for the moment, disregarded by the judge. Mrs. Hornby laughed aloud, a strange, unnatural laugh, and then crammed her handkerchief into her mouth and so sat gazing at Reuben with the tears coursing down her face while Juliet laid her head upon the desk and sobbed silently. After a brief space the judge raised an admonitory hand and, when the commotion had subsided, addressed the prisoner, who stood at the bar, calm and self-possessed, though his face bore a slight flush. Reuben Hornby, the jury, after duly weighing the evidence in this case, have found you to be not guilty of the crime with which you were charged. With that verdict I most heartily agree. In view of the evidence which has been given, I consider that no other verdict was possible and I venture to agree that you leave this court with your innocence fully established and without a stain upon your character. In the distress which you have recently suffered, as well as in your rejoicing at the verdict of the jury, you have the sympathy of the court and of everyone present, and that sympathy will not be diminished by the consideration that, with a less capable defense, the result might have been very different. I desire to express my admiration at the manner in which that defense was conducted and I desire especially to observe that not you alone, but the public at large are deeply indebted to Dr. Thorndike, who, by his insight, his knowledge and his ingenuity has probably averted a very serious miscarriage of justice. The court will now adjourn until half past two. The judge rose from his seat and everyone present stood up and amidst the clamor of many feet on the stairs, the door of the dock was thrown open by a smiling police officer and Rubin came down the stairs into the body of the court. End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 of the Red Thumb Mark This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Richard Kilmer The Red Thumb Mark by R. Austin Freeman Chapter 17 At last We had better let the people clear off, said Thorndike, when the first greetings were over and we stood around Rubin in the fast emptying court. We don't want a demonstration as we go out. No, anything but that just now, replied Rubin. He still held Mrs. Hornby's hand through that of his uncle, who wiped his eyes at intervals, though his face glowed with delight. I should like you to come and have a little quiet luncheon with me at my chambers. All of us friends together continued Thorndike. I should be delighted, said Rubin, if the program would include a satisfactory wash. You will come, Anstey, asked Thorndike. What have you got for lunch? demanded Anstey, who is now disrobed and in his right mind. That is to say, in his usual whimsical, pseudo-frivolous character. That question, sabers of gluttony, answered Thorndike. Come and see. I will come and eat, which is better, answered Anstey. And I must run off now, as I have to look in at my chambers. How shall we go, asked Thorndike, as his colleague vanished through the doorway? Polton is gone for a four-wheeler. But it won't hold us all. This said Rubin, and Dr. Jervis will bring Juliet. Won't you, Jervis? The request rather took me aback, considering the circumstances. But I was conscious, nevertheless, of an unreasonable thrill of pleasure, and answered with a clarity. If Miss Gibson will allow me, I shall be very delighted. My delight was apparently not shared by Juliet, to judge by the uncomfortable blush that spread over her face. And I was surprised to see that Miss Gibson, however, but merely replied rather coldly. Well, we can't sit on the roof of the cab. We'd better go by ourselves. The crowd, having by this time presumably cleared off, we all took our way downstairs. The cab was waiting at the curb, surrounded by a group of spectators, who cheered Rubin as he appeared at the doorway, and we saw our friends enter and drive away. The old Bailey toward Ludgate Hill. Shall we take a handsome, I asked? No, let us walk, replied Juliet. A little fresh air will do us good after that musty, horrible court. It all seems like a dream. And yet, what a relief, oh, what a relief it is. It's rather like awakening from a nightmare to find the morning sun shining, I rejoined. Yes, that is just what it's like, she agreed. We were in a real dazed and shaken. We turned presently down New Bridge Street, towards the embankment, walking side by side without speaking, and I could not help comparing with some bitterness our present stiff and distant relations with the intimacy and conred ship that had existed before the miserable incident of our last meeting. You don't look so jubilant over your success as I should have expected, she said at length, with a critical glance at me. But I expect you are really very proud and delighted, aren't you? Delighted, yes. Not proud. Why should I be proud? I have only played jackal, and even that I have done very badly. That is hardly a fair statement of the facts, she rejoined, with another quick inquisitive look at me. But you were in low spirits today. Which is not at all like you, is it not so? I'm afraid I'm a selfish, brutal brute, was my gloomy reply. I ought to be as gay and joyful as everyone else today. Whereas the fact is that I am chafing over my own petty troubles. You see, now that this case is finished, my engagement with Dr. Thorndike terminates automatically, and I relapse into my old life. A dreary repetition of journeying amongst strangers, and the prospect is not inspiring. There is a time of bitter trial to you, but to me it has been a green oasis in the desert of a colorless, monotonous life. I have enjoyed the companionship of a most lovable man, whom I admire and respect above all other men, and with him have moved in scenes full of color and interest, and I have made one other friend who I am loath to see fade out of my life as she seems likely to do. If you mean me, said Juliet, I may say that it will be your own fault if I fade out of your life. I can never forget all that you have done for us. Your loyalty to Reuben, your enthusiasm in his cause, to say nothing of your many kindnesses to me, and, as to your having done your work badly, you wrong yourself grievously. I recognized in the evidence by which Reuben was cleared today how much you had done in filling in the details toward the case complete and convincing. I shall always feel that we owe you a debt of the deepest gratitude, and so will Reuben, and so perhaps more than either of us will someone else. And who is that I asked, though with no great interest? The gratitude of the family was a matter of little consequence to me. Well, it's no secret now, replied Juliet. I mean the girl whom Reuben is going to marry. Just a matter, Dr. Gervis, she asked, in a tone of surprise. We were passing through the gate that leads from the embankment to Middle Temple Lane, and I had stopped dead under the archway, laying a detaining hand upon her arm, and gazing at her in utter amazement. The girl that Reuben is going to marry, I repeated. Why? I had always taken it for granted that he was going to marry you. But I told you most explicitly that was not so, she exclaimed with some impatience. I know you did, I admit it ruefully. But I thought, well, I imagine that things had perhaps not gone quite smoothly, and did you suppose that if I had cared for a man, and that man had been under a cloud I should have denied the relation or pretended that we were merely friends she demanded indignantly? I am sure you wouldn't, I replied hastily. I was a fool, an idiot, by Joe what an idiot I've been. It was certainly very silly of you, she admitted, but there was a gentleness in her tone that took away all the bitterness from the reproach. The reason of the secrecy was this, she continued. They became engaged the very night before Reuben was arrested, and when he heard of the charge against him he insisted that no one should be told unless and until he was fully acquitted. I was the only person who was in their confidence, and as I was sworn to secrecy, of course I couldn't tell you, nor did I suppose that the matter would interest you. Why should it? Imbecile that I am, I murmured, if I had only known. Well, if you had known, she said, what difference could it have made to you? This question she asked without looking at me, but I noted that her cheek was a shade paler. Only this I answered, that I should have been spared many a day and night of needless self-reproach and misery. But why, she asked, still keeping her face averted. What had you to reproach yourself with? A great deal I answered. If you consider my supposed position, if you think of me as the trust and agent of a man, helpless and deeply wronged, a man whose undeserved misfortunes made every demand upon chivalry and generosity, if you think of me as being called upon to protect and carry comfort to the woman, whom I regard it as virtually that man's betrothed wife, and if you think of me as proceeding straightway before I had known her 24 hours to fall hopelessly in love with her myself, you will admit that I had something to reproach myself with. She was still silent and rather pale and very thoughtful, and she seemed more quickly than usual. Of course I continued. You may say that it was my own lookout, that I had only to keep my own counsel, and no one would be any the worse. But there's the mischief of it. How can a man who is thinking of a woman morning, noon, and night whose heart leaps at the sound of her coming, whose existence is a blank when she is away from him, a blank which he tries to fill by recalling again and again all that she has said in the tones of her voice and the look that was in her eyes when she spoke? How can he help letting her see sooner or later that he cares for her? And if he does, when he has no right to, there is an end of duty and chivalry and even common honesty. Yes, I understand now, said Juliet softly. Is this the way she tripped up the steps leading to Fountain Court, and I followed her slowly. Of course it was not the way, and we both knew it. But the place was silent and peaceful, and the plain trees cast a pleasant shade on the graveled court. I glanced at her as we walked slowly toward the fountain. The roses were mantling in her cheeks now, and her eyes were cast down. But when she lifted them to me for an instant, I saw that they were shining and moist. Did you never guess, I asked? Yes, she replied in a low voice. I guessed. But then she had it shyly. I thought I had guessed wrong. We walked on for some little time without speaking again, until we came to the further side of the fountain, where we stood listening to the quiet trickle of the water and watching the sparrows as they took their bath on the rim of the basin. A little way off another group of sparrows had gathered with greedy joy around some fragments of bread that had been scattered abroad by the benevolent Templars. And, hard by, a more sentimentally-minded pigeon, unmindful of the crumbs and the marauding sparrows, puffed out his breast and strutted and curtsied before his mate with endearing gurgles. Julie had rested her hand on one of the little posts that supported the chain by which the fountain is enclosed, and I laid my hand on hers. Presently she turned her hand over mine lay in its palm, and so we were standing hand in hand when an elderly gentleman of dry and legal aspect came up the steps and passed by the fountain. He looked at the pigeons and then he looked at us and went on his way, smiling and shaking his head. Julie had I said. She looked up quickly with sparkling eyes and a frank smile that was yet a little shy too. Yes? Why did he smile that old gentleman when he looked at us? I can't imagine, she replied mendaciously. It was an approving smile, I said. I think he was remembering his own springtime and giving us his blessing. Perhaps he was, she agreed. He looked a nice old thing. She gazed fondly at the retreating figure and then turned again to me. Her cheeks had grown pink enough by now, and in one of them a dimple displayed itself to great advantage in its rosy setting. Can you forgive me, dear, for my unutterable folly I asked presently as she glanced up at me again. I'm not sure, she answered. It was dreadfully silly of you. But remember, Juliet, that I loved you with my whole heart as I love you now and shall love you always. I can forgive you anything when you say that, she answered softly. Hear the voice of the distant temple clock was heard uttering a polite protest. With infinite reluctance we turned away from the fountain which sprinkled us with a parting benediction and slowly retraced our steps to Middle Temple Lane and thence into Pump Court. You haven't said it, Juliet. I whispered as we came through the archway into the silent, deserted court. Haven't I, dear, she answered. But you know it. Don't you. You know I do. Yes, I know, I said. And that knowledge is all my heart's desire. She laid her hand in mine for a moment with a gentle pressure and then drew it away. And so we passed through into the cloisters. End of Chapter 17 Recording by Richard Kilmer Real Medina, Texas End of The Red Thumb Mark by R. Austin Freeman