Dateline Originals - Morrison Mysteries - The Dead Alive Ep. 3: The Murder Trial

Episode Date: October 21, 2024

Brothers Ambrose and Silas go on trial for the murder of John Jago. Naomi swears Ambrose is innocent. But London attorney Philip Lefrank is not so sure. This episode was originally published on August 28, 2024.

I'm Keith Morrison and this is episode 3 of Wilkie Collins' The Dead Alive. Our narrator, attorney Philip LaFranc, is far from his London home, but he finds himself in a familiar place, a courtroom. He's watching his American relatives, brothers Ambrose and Silo Smetocroft, prepare to stand trial for the murder of John Jago. The evidence is stacked against them. It was well known that the brothers despised Jago, and the very day after they were seen and heard threatening him,

a pile of bones was discovered, burned in a lime pit on the family's farm, along with Jago's knife, buttons from his jacket, and the apparent murder weapon, Ambrose Meadowcroft's heavy wooden walking stick. Now, Naomi is beside herself with worry. Philip does what he can to help the defense and comfort that distraught young woman. The Dead Alive resumes. Chapter 7 The Materials in the Defense On our way to the chairs allotted to us in the magistrate's court, we passed the platform on which the prisoners were standing together.

Silas took no notice of us. Ambrose made a friendly sign of recognition and then rested his hand on the bar in front of him. As she passed beneath him, Naomi was just tall enough to reach his hand on tiptoe and she took it. I know you're innocent, she whispered and gave him one look of loving encouragement

as she followed me to her place. Ambrose never lost his self-control. I may have been wrong, but I thought this a bad sign. The case, as stated for the prosecution, was told strongly against the suspected men. Ambrose and Silas Mettacroft were charged with the murder of John Jago by means of the stick or by use of some other weapon and with the deliberate destruction of the body by throwing it into the quick lime. Witness after witness testified to deep-seated hatred against the deceased displayed by Ambrose Ancilus,

the threatening language they habitually used toward him, their violent quarrels with him, which had become a public scandal throughout the neighborhood, the disgraceful scene which had taken place under my window, and the restoration to Ambrose, and the mourning of the fatal quarrel of the very walking stick which had been found and the mourning of the fatal quarrel of the very walking stick

which had been found among the remains of the dead man, these facts pointed with terrible directness to the conclusion to which the prosecution had already arrived. I looked at the brothers as the weight of the evidence pressed more and more heavily against them. To out review at least, Ambrose still maintained his self-possession. It was otherwise, far otherwise, with Silas. Abject terror showed itself in his ghastly face, in his great, naughty hands clinging convulsively to the bar at which he stood, in his staring eyes fixed in vacant horror on each witness who appeared. The one point gained in cross-examination by the defense related to the charred bones.

Oppressed on this point, a majority of the medical witnesses admitted that their examination had been a hurried one, and that it was just possible that the bones might yet prove to be the remains of an animal and not of a man. The presiding magistrate decided upon this that a second examination would be made. Here the preliminary proceedings ended. The prisoners were remanded for three days. The collapse of Silas at the close of the inquiry was so complete that it was found necessary to have two men support him on his leaving the court.

Ambrose leaned over the bar to speak to Naomi before he followed the jailer out. Wait, he whispered confidently, till they hear what I have to say. Naomi blew him a kiss and turned to me with bright tears in her eyes. Why don't they hear what he has to say at once? She asked. Anybody can see that Ambrose is innocent. It's a crying shame to send them back to prison. Don't you think so yourself?

I diverted her mind from the question of her lover's innocence by proposing that we should visit him in his prison cell on the next day. Naomi dried her tears and gave me a little grateful squeeze of the hand. Oh my, what a good fellow you are, cried the outspoken girl. When your time comes to be married, sir, I guess the woman won't regret saying yes to you. I obtained the order of admission to the prison the next morning. won't regret saying yes to you." I obtained the order of admission to the prison the next morning. We found Ambrose still confident of a favorable result

for his brother and himself. He seemed to be almost eager to tell, as Naomi was to hear, the true story of what had happened at the lime kiln. The authorities of the prison, present of course at the interview, warned him to remember that what he said might be taken down in writing and produced against him in court. "'Take it down, gentlemen, and welcome,' Ambrose replied. "'I have nothing to fear. I'm only telling the truth.'"

With that he turned to Naomi and began his narrative, as nearly as I can remember, in these words. I may as well make a clean breast of it, my girl. After Mr. LeFranc left us that morning, I asked Silas how he came by my walking stick. Silas told me of the words that had passed between him and John Jago under Mr. LeFranc's window. he came by my walking stick. Silas told me of the words that had passed between him and John Jago under Mr. LeFranc's window.

I was angry and jealous, and I own it freely, Naomi. I thought the worst that could be thought about, you and John. Here, Naomi stopped him. Was that what made you speak to me as you spoke when we found you at the wood? She asked. Yes. And was that what made you speak to me as you spoke when we found you at the wood?' she asked. "'Yes.' "'And was that what made you leave me when you went away to Nereby without giving me

a kiss at parting?' "'It was.' "'Beg my pardon for it before you say a word more.' "'I beg your pardon.' "'Say you're ashamed of yourself.' "'I am ashamed of myself,' Ambrose answered, penitently. Now you may go on, said Naomi. I'm now satisfied.

Ambrose went on. We were on our way to the clearing at the other side of the wood while Silas was talking to me, and as ill luck would have it, we took the path that led by the lime kiln. Turning the corner we met John Jago on his way to Narabi. I was too angry I tell you to let him pass quietly. I gave him a piece of my mind. His blood was up too I suppose and he spoke out on his side as freely as I did. I admit I threatened him with the walking stick, but I swear to you, I meant no harm. You know, after dressing Silas's hand, that John Jago is ready with his knife. He comes from out west, where they're always ready with one

weapon or another, handy in their pockets. It's likely enough he didn't mean to harm me either, but I've got to be sure of that. When he stepped up to me and showed me his weapon, I dropped the stick. With one hand I wrenched the knife away from him and with the other I caught him by the collar of his rotten old coat and gave him a shaking that made the bones rattle in his skin and a big piece of the cloth came away in my hand. I threw it into the quicklime, close to us, and I pitched the knife after the cloth, and if Silas hadn't stopped me, I think it's likely I might have shoved John Jago himself into the lime next. As it was, Silas kept hold of me, and Silas shouted out

to him, Be off with you, and don't come back again, if you don't want to be burned in the kiln. He stood looking at us for a minute, fetching his breath, and holding his torn coat around him. And then he spoke with a deadly quiet voice, and a deadly quiet look. Many a true word, Mr. Silas, he says, is spoken in jest. I shall not come back again. He turned about and left us.

We stood staring at each other like a couple of fools. You don't think he means it, I says. Bosch, says Silas. He's too sweet on Naomi not to come back. Naomi asked, did Silas say any more while he was about it? Yes, he looked into the kiln and he says, what made you throw away the knife Ambrose? It's a ripping good knife, says Silas.

In your place I should have kept it. I picked up the stick off the ground. "'Who says I've lost it yet?' I answered him, and with that I got up on the side of the kiln and I began poking around with my walking stick for the knife. "'Give us your hand,' I said to Silas. "'Let me stretch out a bit and I'll have it in no time.' Instead of finding the knife, I came close to falling myself into the burning line.

The vapor overpowered me, I suppose. All I know is I turned giddy and I dropped the stick into the kiln. I would have fallen in and died, but for Silas pulling me back by the hand. He led me away by the arm and we went on together on the road to the wood. We stopped where you found us and sat down on the felled tree. We had a little more talk about John Jago. It ended in our agreeing to wait and see what happened and keep to ourselves in the meantime. You and Mr. LeFranc came upon us, Naomi, while we were talking, and you guessed right when

you guessed that we had a secret from you. You know the secret now." There he stopped. I put a question to him, the first that I had asked yet. "'Had you or your brother any fear at that time of the charge which has since been brought against you?" I said. No such thought entered our heads, sir, Ambrose answered.

How could we foresee that the neighbors would search the kiln and say what they have said of us? All we feared was that the old man might hear of the quarrel and be bitterer against us than ever. As you believe, then," I went on, "'John Jago has carried out his threat of not returning to the farm. According to you, he's now alive and in hiding somewhere?' "'Certainly,' said Ambrose.

"'Certainly,' repeated Naomi. "'I believe it too,' she said. "'John Jago is keeping away. Do you suppose he's afraid of Ambrose and Silas? She hesitated. He may be afraid of them, she replied with a strong emphasis on the word may. But you don't think it likely. She hesitated again, and I pressed her again.

Do you think there is any other motive for his absence? Her eyes dropped to the floor. She answered quietly, I can't say. I addressed myself to Ambrose. Have you anything more to tell us? I asked. No, he said, I've told you all I know about it.

I rose to speak to the lawyer whose services I had retained. Is this the defense? I inquired in a whisper. This is the defense, Mr. LaFranque. What do you think between ourselves? Between ourselves, I think the magistrate will commit them for trial. On the charge of murder? Yes, on the charge of murder.

And so there it is. Ambrose's version of events. Yes, he had seen Jago that day, and yes, they'd had a shoving match, but that's all it was. They didn't kill Jago. He ran away. He must be hiding somewhere, not dead at all. Sweet Naomi believes him. Her ambrose must be innocent. But Philip, the lawyer, knows a losing story when he hears one.

His cousin, he fears, is cooked. Chapter 8 The Confession The narrative related by Ambrose had all the appearance in my eyes of a fabricated story, made up and clumsily made up at that, to pervert the circumstantial evidence produced by the prosecution. I reached this conclusion reluctantly and regretfully, if only for Naomi's sake. The day of the adjourned inquiry arrived. Naomi and I again attended the court together. On his second appearance at the bar, Silas was a little more composed, more like his brother. We began the battle over the medical evidence relating to the charred bones,

and to some extent we won the victory. In other words, we forced the doctors to acknowledge that they differed widely in their opinions. Three confessed that they were not certain. Two went still further and declared that the bones were the bones of an animal, not of a man. We made the most of this, and then we entered Ambrose Metocroft's story for the defense. The lawyer spoke mechanically, doing his best, no doubt, but doing it without genuine conviction or earnestness. Naomi cast an anxious glance at me as he sat down, and the girl's hand, as I took it, turned cold in mine. She saw plain signs of the failure of the defense, but

she waited resolutely until the presiding magistrate announced his decision. against his decision. I had only too clearly foreseen what he would feel it to be his duty to do. Naomi's head dropped on my shoulder as she said the terrible words which committed Ambrose and Silas Metocroft to take their trial on the charge of murder. I led her out of the court into the air. As I passed the bar, I saw Ambrose, deadly pale, looking after evidently daunted him. His brother Silas had dropped in abject terror on the jailer's chair.

The miserable wretch shook and shuddered dumbly like a cow dog. Back at the farm, I began to feel uneasy about Naomi. I went upstairs and knocking softly at her door made my inquiries from outside. The clear young voice answered me sadly, I'm trying to bear it. I won't distress you when we meet again. I descended the stairs, feeling quite strange. Why had her answer brought tears to my eyes?

I went out, walking alone, to think. Why did the tones of the girl's voice follow me dwell in my ear? Why did my hands still feel the last cold, faint pressure of her fingers when I let her out of court? I took a sudden resolution to go back to England. When I returned to the farm, it was evening. The lamp was not yet lighted in the hall. Pausing to accustom my eyes to the obscurity indoors,

I heard the voice of the lawyer whom we had employed for the defense speaking to someone very earnestly. I'm not to blame, said the voice. She snatched the paper out of my hand before I was aware of her. Do you want it back? asked the voice of Miss Metta Croft. No, it's only a copy. If keeping it will help to quiet her, let her keep it by all means. Good evening. Saying these last words, the lawyer approached me on his way out of the house. I stopped him without ceremony.

I felt an uncontrollable curiosity to know more. Who snatched the paper out of your hand? I asked bluntly. The lawyer started. I had taken him by surprise. In the brief interval of silence, Ms. Metocroft replied to my question from the other end of the hall. Naomi Colebrooke snatched the paper out of his hand. What paper? The door opened softly behind me. Naomi herself appeared on the threshold. Naomi herself answered my question. "'I will tell you,' she whispered, "'come in here.'"

One candle only was burning in the room. I looked at her by the dim light, and my resolution to return to England instantly became one of the lost ideas of my life. Good God! I exclaimed, what has happened now? She handed me the paper which she had taken from the lawyer's hand. The copy to which she had referred was a copy of the written confession of Silas Meadowcroft on his return to prison. He accused his brother Ambrose of the murder of John Jago.

He declared on his oath that he had seen his brother Ambrose commit the crime. In the popular phrase, I could hardly believe my own eyes. I read the last sentences of the Confession for the second time. Silas described seeing Ambrose and John Jago at the farm that morning. I heard their voices at the head with his heavy walking stick. The deceased dropped without a cry. I put my hand on his heart. He was dead.

I was horribly frightened. Ambrose threatened to kill me next if I said a word to any living soul. He took up the body and cast it into the sea. I was horribly frightened. Ambrose threatened to kill me next if I said a word to any living soul. He took up the body and cast it into the quicklime and threw the stick in after it. We went on together to the wood and we sat down on a felled tree outside the wood and Ambrose made up the story that we were to tell

if what he had done was found out. He made me repeated after him like a lesson. We were still at it when Cousin Naomi and Mr. LaFranc came up to us, and they know the rest. This on my oath is a true confession. I make it of my own free will, repenting me sincerely that I did not make it before. Signed, Silas Meadowcroft. I laid down the paper and looked at Naomi once more. She spoke to me with a strange composure. Immovable determination was in her voice.

Silas has lied away his brother's life to save himself, she said. The immovable determination was in her voice. Silas has lied away his brother's life to save himself, she said. I see cowardly falsehood and cowardly cruelty in every line on that paper. Ambrose is innocent, and the time has come to prove it. You forget, I said, that we have just failed to prove it. John J. was alive in hiding from us and from all who knew him, she went on. Help me, friend LeFranc, to advertise for him in the newspapers. I drew back from her in speechless distress. I admit I believed that the new misery which had fallen on her had affected her brain. You don't believe it, she said. Shut the door. I obeyed her. She

seated herself and pointed to a chair near her. Sit down, she proceeded. I'm going to do a wrong thing, but there is no help for it. I'm going to break a secret promise. You remember that moonlight night when I met him on the garden walk? John Jago? Yes. Now listen. I'm going to tell you what passed between John Jago and me. Finally, Naomi is ready to reveal to Philip her secret. What really happened that fateful night in the garden? Maybe she thinks that by telling Philip she will save Ambrose somehow,

even though his own brother has just turned on him. Or maybe her revelation will just lead to even more questions. Here again is the dead alive. Or maybe her revelation will just lead to even more questions. Here again is The Dead Alive. Chapter 9 The Advertisement Naomi began by asking me a question. You remember when we went to see Ambrose in the prison? She said, perfectly.

Ambrose told us of something which his villain of a brother said of John Jago and me. Do you remember what it was?" I remembered perfectly. Silas had said, John Jago is too sweet on Naomi not to come back. That's so, Naomi remarked when I had repeated the words. I couldn't help starting when I heard what Silas had said

and I thought you noticed me. I did notice you. Did you wonder what it meant? couldn't help starting when I heard what Silas had said and I thought you noticed me. I did notice you. Did you wonder what it meant? Yes. I'll tell you. I am the person, sir, who has driven John Jago away from Morwick Farm and I am the person who can and will bring him back again. There was something in her manner, more than her words, which let the light in suddenly on my mind. You have told me the secret, I said.

John Jago is in love with you. Mad about me, she rejoined, dropping her voice to a whisper. Stark's staring mad. That's the only word for him. After we had taken a few turns on the gravel walk, he suddenly broke out like a man beside himself. He fell down on his knees. He kissed my gown. He kissed my feet. He sobbed. He cried love for me. No man that I can call to mind ever really scared me before, but I admit, John Jago frightened me. Oh my, he did frighten me.

My heart was in my mouth, my knees shook under me. I begged and prayed of him to get up and go away. No, there he knelt and held by the skirt of my gown. The words poured out of him like nothing I can think of but water from a pump. His happiness and his life and his hopes and earth and heaven and Lord knows only what besides all depended, he said, on a word from me. I reminded him that I was promised to Ambrose. I think you ought to be ashamed of yourself, I said,

Ambrose. I think you ought to be ashamed of yourself," I said, to say that you're wicked enough to love me when you know I'm promised to another man. When I spoke to him, he took a new turn. He began abusing Ambrose. That straightened me up. I snatched my gown out of his hand and I gave him my whole mind. I hate you," I said. Even if I wasn't promised to Ambrose, I wouldn't marry you, no. Not if there wasn't another man left in the world to ask me. I hate you, Mr. Jago. I hate you." He saw I was in earnest at last. He got up from my feet and he settled down again all quiet of a sudden.

"'You've said enough,' that was how he answered me. You've broken my life. I have no hopes and no prospects now. I had a pride in the farm, Miss, and a pride in my work. I bore with your brutish cousin's hatred of me. I was faithful to Mr. Metocroft's interests. All for your sake, Naomi Colebrook, all for your sake. I'm done with it now.

I'm done with my life at the farm. You'll never be troubled with me again. I'm going away as the dumb creatures go when they're sick to hide myself at a corner and die. Do me one last favor, though. Don't make me the laughing stock of the whole neighborhood. I can't bear that. It maddens me only to think of it. Give me your promise never to tell any living soul what I have said to you tonight. Your sacred promise to the man whose life you have broken." I did as he begged me. I gave him my sacred promise with the tears in my eyes. Only let me find out where he's gone, and he'll come

back and clear Ambrose of the suspicion which his vile brother has cast on him. Here's the pen, all ready for you. Advertise for him, friend Lefranc, and do it right away, for my sake." When she put the pen into my hand, I began writing the advertisement as obediently as if I too believed that John Jago was a living man, even though I firmly believed he had been killed by Ambrose exactly as Silas described it.

Could I say this to Naomi? I would have written fifty advertisements looking for John Jago rather than say it. And you would have done the same if you'd been as fond of her as I was. I drew out the advertisement for insertion in the Morwick Mercury and here is how it read. Murder. Printers of newspapers throughout the United States are asked to publish that Ambrose Meadowcroft and Silas Meadowcroft of Morwick Farm, Morwick County are standing trial for the murder of John Jago, now missing from the farm and from the neighborhood.

Any person who can give information on the existence of said Jago may save the lives of two wrongly accused men by making immediate communication. Jago is about five feet four inches high. He is bare and wiry. His complexion is extremely pale. His eyes are dark and very bright and restless. I added the date and the address. That evening a servant was sent on horseback to Nerebe to procure the insertion of the advertisement in the next issue of the newspaper.

When we parted that night, Naomi looked almost like her brighter and happier self. Now that the advertisement had been published, in the next issue of the newspaper. When we parted that night, Naomi looked almost like her brighter and happier self. Now that the advertisement was on its way to the printing office, she was more than hopeful. She was somehow certain of the result. You don't know how you've comforted me, she said,

in her frank, warm-hearted way when we parted for the night. "'All the newspapers will copy it, and we shall hear of John Jaygo before the week is out.'" She turned to go and came back again to me. "'I will never forgive Silas for writing that confession,' she whispered in my ear. "'If he ever lives under the same roof with Ambrose again, I believe I wouldn't marry

Ambrose if he did. There she left me. Through the wakeful hours of the night, my mind dwelt on her last words. That she should contemplate under any circumstances even the bare possibility of not marrying Ambrose was, I'm ashamed to say, a direct encouragement to certain hopes which had already begun to form in secret. The next day's mail brought me a letter. My clerk wrote to inquire if there was any chance of my returning to England in time

to appear in court at the opening of the next law term. I answered without hesitation. It is still impossible for me to fix the date of my return. Naomi was in the room while I was writing. How would she have answered, I wonder, if I had told her the truth? That she was the reason I was staying. Naomi Colebrook is on a mission, and nothing will stop her. She wants to exonerate Ambrose and set him free.

Philip agrees to help, though there is no doubt in his mind Ambrose is as guilty as they come. But Philip has his own secret, a secret he'd dare not tell her, even as he comes to her aid. Instead, he sends word to all the local newspapers. Has anyone seen the missing man, John Jago? It's a last gasp, a true shot in the dark. Yes, he sent word out.

Our next episode reveals what came back.