My feelings were so tumultuous that it is impossible to describe them. They changed from moment to moment. Innocence is the greatest defence. It gives courage. If one tells the truth, surely that must prevail. That thought remains with one all the time. It is the greatest ally.

I looked at the members of the jury—those who would decide my fate; and they gave me confidence.

Even at this stage, after the weeks of waiting for this day, there was an element of unreality about it all. I … Davina Glentyre, the young girl who had gone to church with her mother, was now the prisoner at the bar in a court of law accused of murdering her father.

How could it have come about? It must be a wild mad dream.

There was silence through the court while the indictment against me was read.

“Davina Scott Glentyre, now or lately prisoner in the prison of Edinburgh, you are indicted and accused at the instance of Her Majesty’s Advocate for Her Majesty’s interest: that albeit by the laws of this land and of every other well governed realm, the wickedly and felonious administering of arsenic, or other poisons, with intent to murder, is a crime of a heinous nature and severely punishable. Yet true it is that you, Davina Scott Glentyre, are guilty of the said crime …”

It went on detailing the evidence against me—most damning of which was, of course, my buying the arsenic at Henniker’s shop, my signature in the poison book being an important piece of evidence.

Then came the witnesses.

Dr. Dorrington explained how Mr. Kirkwell, the butler, called him in the early hours of the morning. He was not surprised because Mr. Glentyre had, over a few months, suffered from bilious attacks. He had expected to find this just another, perhaps more severe than the previous ones, and he had felt it was unnecessary to call him out at such an hour. However, he had been shocked on arriving at the house to find Mr. Glentyre dead.

“Did you examine him?”

“Briefly. I saw at once that there was nothing I could do for him.”

“Did you suspect poison?”

“I thought there was something unusual about his sudden death.”

Other doctors followed. There was Dr. Camrose, professor of chemistry at the University. He had examined certain of the deceased’s organs and had found undoubted traces of arsenic. Another doctor was called and confirmed this. He said there had been a final dose which had resulted in death and which had obviously been taken in port wine. But there were traces of arsenic in the body which suggested that it had been taken over some little time.

There followed a great many scientific references which I was sure none but the specialists understood; but the fact emerged that my father had died through arsenical poisoning and that he had been taking it in smaller quantities over some time.

The doctors were asked if it were a common practise to take arsenic.

“It is said to have rejuvenating powers,” replied the doctor. He had known men take it for that reason. Women used it here and there, he believed, because it was thought to be good for the complexion. It was a dangerous practise.

At length it was time for the people I knew to take their places. I was alert, watchful of them. It seemed so strange to see them there, though stranger still for them, I supposed, to see me where I was.

On trial for murder! It was not the sort of thing one would think could ever happen to oneself. That sort of drama was for other people. And now here we all were … people who had known each other over the years … ordinary, simple people… all here in the centre of the stage, with the whole of Scotland … and perhaps beyond … watching us.

I could imagine the excitement which people were feeling. A young girl on trial for her life!

Mr. Kirkwell was questioned about being called by me in the early morning and dashing off to get the doctor.

“Did you go to the bedroom where Mr. Glentyre was dying?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did it occur to you that it was strange that he should be so ill?”

“Well, sir, he’d had one or two of these attacks. I thought it was just another … only worse.”

Mrs. Kirkwell followed her husband into the witness box.

“Mrs. Kirkwell, you were worried about the rats which had appeared near the house, were you?”

“Yes, sir. They were in the mews. I never had them in the house, sir.”

“Did you ever see any near the house?”

“Oh no. I couldn’t have borne that. Rats near my kitchen! Horrible things. Dirty. Hamish told me they were in the mews … stables and all that. But he got some arsenic and finished them off.”

“Was there any mention of getting arsenic because he had seen them near the kitchen door?”

“Never in my hearing, sir. I never knew they were in the dustbin. I would have been out of my mind, I can tell you, if I’d heard that.”

“So you would undoubtedly remember. Now I want you to cast your mind back. A young man, a Mr. James North, had been invited to the house, had he not?”

“Yes. He came once or twice. He was sweet on Miss Davina.”

“And Mr. Glentyre did not approve of the young man. Is that it?”

“I don’t reckon he had anything against him, but he was poor and wasn’t what Mr. Glentyre had in mind for her.”

“And there was a scene.”

“Well, sir. I just happened to be on the stairs with Bess …that’s one of the maids. The door of the study opened. I heard them shouting and Miss Davina flounced out. He was going to cut her out of his will if she married Mr. North.”

“And Miss Davina was upset, was she?”

“Oh terribly. She shouted back at him. She said he could cut her out if he wanted to. It wouldn’t change her mind … or something like that.”

Ninian rose and said: “Do you often listen to your employer’s private conversation, Mrs. Kirkwell?”

“No, I do not, sir. I just happened …”

“Just happened to be conveniently placed when Miss Davina flounced—I think you said—out of the study and went to her room. When did you hear all this conversation? It must have lasted more than a few seconds. Yet in that time you hear that Mr. Glentyre is going to cut her out of his will and her saying that she did not care.”

“Well, that’s what I heard.”

“I suggest that you heard voices and as time passed you imagined you heard those words spoken.”

“No, I did not.”

Ninian smiled and said: “That will be all.”

Mrs. Kirkwell, flushed and indignant, left the witness box.

Hamish was next. He looked slightly less jaunty than usual.

“I am Hamish Vosper,” he said, “coachman to the late Mr. Glentyre. At the beginning of this year I saw a rat in the stables. I bought sixpennyworth of arsenic at Henniker’s drugstore and managed to get rid of three of them in a week.”

“Did you mention this in the kitchen to the servants?”

“Yes, I did.”

“To Mrs. Kirkwell and the maids? Was anyone else there when you talked of the efficiency of arsenic?”

He looked across at me and hesitated.

“Was Miss Davina Glentyre there?”

“Well, yes, she was.”

“Did she express interest?”

“I … I don’t remember.”

“Did the maid Ellen Farley tell you she had seen a rat near the kitchen … in the dustbin?”

“No.”

“Did Miss Farley ever speak to you about rats?”

“I don’t think so. She didn’t speak much to me. She wasn’t the talking sort.”

“Are you sure that she did not tell you she had seen a rat jump out of the dustbin?”

“If she did I can’t recall it.”

“That will do.”

Ninian rose.

“Mr. Glentyre was pleased with your services as a coachman, was he not?”

Hamish preened himself. “Oh yes, he reckoned I was very good.”

“So good that you took the place of your father?”

“Well … yes.”

“Excellent,” said Ninian. “And you were naturally proud of your skills?”

Hamish looked pleased. I could see he was enjoying this.

“You like to go out with your friends … in the evenings?” went on Ninian.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I ask the questions, remember, please. There is nothing wrong with it unless you decide to use the family carriage for these excursions … without your employer’s permission.”

Hamish flushed.

“Did you do this on several occasions?” persisted Ninian.

“I … I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember? Then I will assure you that you did and I can produce evidence to prove this. But your memory is not good. You forgot. Might it not be that you could also have forgotten that Ellen Farley mentioned to you that she had seen a rat in the dustbin and you recommended her to try the arsenic which had proved effective?”

“I … I …”

“No more questions.”

I saw how successfully Ninian had planted doubts in the minds of the jury as to the reliability of Hamish’s evidence; and he was, after all, a key witness.

Zillah made a good impression on the court, but I felt it was not the Zillah I knew who stood in the witness box.

She even looked different. She was all in black; her face was pale, her hair simply dressed under the small black hat with the veil. She gave the impression of being a young, beautiful and lonely widow, suddenly bereft of a loving husband, looking out in bewilderment on a cruel world which, with one stroke, had taken her husband and put her stepdaughter in the dock.

She was a superb actress and like all her kind enjoyed having an audience to perform to. On the other hand, so well did she play the part that she did not appear to be acting.

She had I supposed cared for my father. She had always behaved to him most lovingly; she had seemed genuinely concerned about his illness. She had made the last months of his life happy. Yet I wondered.

The Lord Justice Clerk was clearly impressed by her—as I think was the whole court. Her beauty seemed the more outstanding because of the simplicity of her dress and her quietly tragic manner.

“Mrs. Glentyre.” The questioner spoke in a gentle voice. “Could you tell us what happened on that tragic night?”

She told them that her husband had not been well on the previous day and she had insisted on his remaining at home.

“Was he very ill?”

“Oh no. I just thought he should have a restful day.”

“That night at dinner he took a glass of port wine?”

“Yes.”

“The wine was in a decanter on the sideboard?”

“Yes.”

“Your stepdaughter, Miss Davina Glentyre, offered to pour it out?”

“Yes. There was nothing unusual about that. Kirkwell, the butler, was not present.”

“He was usually present, was he?”

“Er … yes, mostly. But he had been bringing up another decanter.”

“You did not take a glass of wine on that occasion?”

“No.”

“Nor your stepdaughter?”

“Neither of us did. We rarely did.”

“So it was just Mr. Glentyre who had his glass from the decanter which was poured out by Miss Glentyre?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that there had been trouble between your husband and his daughter about her determination to marry a young man?”

“Yes … but I didn’t think it was very serious.”

“But he had threatened to cut her out of his will.”

“I just thought it was one of those little upsets that would blow over.”

“Did he talk to you about it?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “He may have mentioned it.”

“Did he want her to marry someone else?”

“Parents do have plans for their children. I think it was all rather vague.”

“And did your stepdaughter speak to you of this matter?”

“Oh yes. We were good friends. I tried to be a mother to her.” She made a little gesture.

“More like a sister, I imagine,” said the Justice Clerk smiling and allowing his admiration for her to show a little.

“And you talked to her about this matter? Did she mention how bitterly she felt against her father?”

“No. Not at all. I convinced her that it would come all right in the end. Parents often disapprove of their children’s marriages.”

It was Ninian’s turn.

“You and your stepdaughter quickly became good friends?”

“Oh yes.”

“You came as governess originally, I believe.”

“That is so.”

“And within a short time you married the master of the house.”