The Case of Janissary

The Case of Janissary
by Arthur Morrison
Copyright 1897, by Arthur Morrison, in the United States of America.

THE CASE OF JANISSARY
I.
In the year 1897 a short report of an ordinary sort of inquest appeared
in the London newspapers, and I here transcribe it.
"Dr. McCulloch held an inquest yesterday on the body of Mr. Henry
Lawrence, whose body was found on Tuesday morning last in the river
near Vauxhall Bridge. The deceased was well known in certain sporting
circles. Sophia Lawrence, the widow, said that deceased had left home
on Monday afternoon at about five, in his usual health, saying that he
was to dine at a friend's and she saw nothing more of him till called
upon to identify the body. He had no reason for suicide, and so far as
witness knew, was free from pecuniary embarrassments. He had,
indeed, been very successful in betting recently. He habitually carried a
large pocket-book, with papers in it. Mr. Robert Naylor, commission
agent, said that deceased dined with him that evening at his house in
Gold Street, Chelsea, and left for home at about half-past eleven. He
had at the time a sum of nearly four hundred pounds upon him, chiefly
in notes, which had been paid him by witness in settlement of a bet. It
was a fine night, and deceased walked in the direction of Chelsea
Embankment. That was the last witness saw of him. He might not have
been perfectly sober, but he was not drunk, and was capable of taking
care of himself. The evidence of the Thames police went to show that
no money was on the body when found, except a few coppers, and no
pocket-book. Dr. William Hodgetts said that death was due to
drowning. There were some bruises on the arms and head which might

have been caused before death. The body was a very healthy one. The
coroner said that there seemed to be a strong suspicion of foul play,
unless the pocket-book of the deceased had got out of his pocket in the
water; but the evidence was very meagre, although the police appeared
to have made every possible inquiry. The jury returned a verdict of
'Found Drowned, though how the deceased came into the water there
was no evidence to show'."
I know no more of the unfortunate man Lawrence than this, and I have
only printed the cutting here because it probably induced Dorrington to
take certain steps in the case I am dealing with. With that case the fate
of the man Lawrence has nothing whatever to do. He passes out of the
story entirely.

II.
Mr. Warren Telfer was a gentleman of means, and the owner of a few
-- very few -- racehorses. But he had a great knack of buying hidden
prizes in yearlings, and what his stable lacked in quantity it often more
than made up for in quality. Thus he had once bought a St. Leger
winner for as little as a hundred and fifty pounds. Many will remember
his bitter disappointment of ten or a dozen years back, when his horse,
Matfelon, starting an odds-on favourite for the Two Thousand, never
even got among the crowd, and ambled in streets behind everything. It
was freely rumoured (and no doubt with cause) that Matfelon had been
"got at" and in some way "nobbled". There were hints of a certain
bucket of water administered just before the race -- a bucket of water
observed in the hands, some said of one, some said of another person
connected with Ritter's training establishment. There was no suspicion
of pulling for plainly the jockey was doing his best with the animal all
the way along, and never had a tight rein. So a nobbling it must have
been, said the knowing ones, and Mr. Warren Telfer said so too, with
much bitterness. More, he immediately removed his horses from
Ritter's stables, and started a small training place of his own for his own
horses merely; putting an old steeplechase jockey in charge, who had
come out of a bad accident permanently lame, and had fallen on evil

days.
The owner was an impulsive and violent-tempered man, who, once a
notion was in his head, held to it through everything, and in spite of
everything. His misfortune with Matfelon made him the most insanely
distrustful man alive. In everything he fancied he saw a trick, and to
him every man seemed a scoundrel. He could scarce bear to let the very
stable-boys touch his horses, and although for years all went as well as
could be expected in his stables, his suspicious distrust lost nothing of
its virulence. He was perpetually fussing about the stables, making
surprise visits, and laying futile traps that convicted