22 May 1935
Old Bailey, Court Number One
The prosecution counsel called Blythe North as their witness. She came in with her head bent down and when she spoke to take her oath, she was quiet enough for Mr Justice Hogan to be forced to ask her to speak up. She wore sombre clothes and little make-up, but something in the way she carried herself made Guy think she had designed herself to be noticed. She was strikingly pretty, with dark hair and a figure wrapped in a narrow cream coat that brought to mind starlets who traded on their ‘girl next door’ looks. No girl who looked like that had ever lived next door to anyone he knew.
Guy had met Blythe on the ship, but in the chaos of the attack and its aftermath, he had not noticed any of this. The marvel was how she had turned herself about completely – he almost might not have realised that the cabin maid he had interviewed then and the woman in the witness box now were one and the same.
Stiles leaned across to whisper, ‘I hear she’s landed a part in a play at the Haymarket that opens soon.’
Ah. That explained it.
Mr Burton-Lands asked Miss North to recount the facts of her whereabouts on the fated evening. This time her diction was beautifully clear and confident. She was an actress who knew how to respond to her director.
‘I was working as a cabin maid on the Princess Alice. I had been employed by Empire Line for eight months.’
‘One of the cabins you were assigned was that of Mr and Mrs Fowler?’
‘Yes, I was the maid for ten of the cabins on the port side of the deck.’
‘Where were you on the night in question?’
‘I was preparing the rooms for the night. I did them while the guests were at dinner, switching some of the lamps off and turning down the covers, tidying up if needed.’
‘At what time did you reach the Fowlers’ cabin on that night?’
Blythe’s voice remained steady. Guy could not help but admire her steeliness.
‘About eleven o’clock. For the Fowlers, I would do the usual tasks but also put out a pillow and blanket on the sofa.’
‘Why did you do that?’
‘I believe it was because Mr Fowler slept there.’
Mr Burton-Lands turned his attention to the jury. ‘Mr Fowler did not appear to share the bedroom suite with his wife but slept on the sofa.’ Point made, he returned to Blythe. ‘Were you alone as you worked in cabin B-17 that night?’
‘No. Mr Evans was also working in there.’
‘What was he doing?’
‘He was clearing up the drinks cabinet, washing and polishing the glass.’
Mr Burton-Lands then faced the jury and, as if he was asking them the question, said: ‘And what happened to interrupt your work?’
‘Mrs Fowler came in, earlier than expected.’
‘Earlier? How did you know her routine?’
‘They always took the same cabin and I’d been their maid before,’ said Blythe. ‘We always prepared their cabin last and usually she would return from dinner at about half-past ten or thereabouts. Occasionally to retire to bed, but more often to powder her nose before leaving again to join one of the parties that were happening on the ship.’
‘Was Mrs Fowler usually with her husband when she came back after dinner?’
‘No. Once or twice she mentioned that he had gone to the smoking room for a cigar.’
‘Did she say where he was on this night?’ Mr Burton-Lands’ demeanour was entirely calm.
‘She was distressed when she came in and said there had been an argument. I didn’t hear much more than that for she told me to leave.’
‘Had you finished your work?’
‘No, but there was no staying. She wanted me out of there.’
‘Leaving only her and Mr Evans in cabin B-17?’
‘Yes,’ said Blythe, dropping her head.
Mr Burton-Lands swept a glance over the men and women who were sitting in the press benches, each of whom was writing furiously. A great deal of what he said was likely to end up being quoted under large headlines tomorrow. It could put pressure on a man.
‘Were you aware of any relationship between Mr Evans and Mrs Fowler?’
‘Yes,’ said Blythe, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
‘Did you speak to your fellow worker, Mr Evans, about it?’
‘I tried, because I knew he’d get in trouble with the captain if it were ever discovered. But he told me it wasn’t my business and I had to stay out of it.’
‘Did he express any intention of ending the relationship?’
‘No, sir.’ Blythe turned the jury. ‘I knew she was trouble—’
‘Objection.’ This came from Mr Vangood, Jim’s defence counsel.
The judge barely looked up but raised his hand. ‘Objection upheld.’
‘Continue,’ said Burton-Lands, gently.
‘Mrs Fowler came back from her dinner, with Lady Redesdale’s lady’s maid, and dismissed me from the room, and as hers had been the last cabin I needed to do, I went straight to my own. I was tired and looking forward to some sleep.’ She gave a wan smile as if she was just as tired today. ‘I lay on my bunk and only managed to take my shoes off. That sometimes happened. The maids did long hours on the ship.’
Blythe kept talking. Guy wished she’d get to the point.
‘I was woken up by the telephone in my room and it was Mrs Fowler. I couldn’t absolutely make out what she was saying. She sounded…’ Blythe gave a glance at the woman in the dock. ‘Drunk, sir. She was crying and telling me to come to the room quickly.’
‘What time was this?’
‘I think it was half-past midnight. I couldn’t say for sure. I only knew I didn’t think I’d got much sleep. I splashed some water on my face and put my shoes on and hurried down there…’ Her voice petered out.
‘I’m sorry, Miss North. I know it is hard to talk about. A minute or two more, if you would. What did you find when you returned to the cabin?’
Blythe’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Mr Fowler, he was … I thought he was asleep, he was in the armchair, and his head was back. I heard him sort of moaning, and then I saw…’ She hiccuped slightly. ‘He had a towel wrapped around his head and it was covered in blood. I saw blood on the carpet.’
Mr Burton-Lands let her pause for a moment, but no longer. ‘Please tell the court everything you can remember.’
‘Mrs Fowler was pulling off his jacket and his waistcoat, she was shouting, and she gave them to me and told me to rinse them out.’
‘Why did she tell you to do that?’
‘To get the blood out. It stains if it sets, but cold water, quick as possible, gets it out. And she told me to scrub out the blood on the carpet. She was saying something about her boys, how this would destroy them, she didn’t want them to see this.’
‘Her boys?’
‘I assumed she meant her children.’
‘They were not on the ship, were they?’
‘No, sir. I believe they were left at home with a nanny.’ She turned to the jury. ‘You hear a lot when you’re a maid. People often forget you’re even in the room.’
‘Did you do as she asked?’
‘Yes, but I couldn’t clean the carpet properly, she was hurrying me up. I was confused; I wasn’t sure if I should be doing it or not.’ She looked up and seemed to think, as if she was going to say more, but then didn’t.
‘Had she called a doctor?’
‘I think she must have done. He arrived less than ten minutes after I did.’
Mr Justice Hogan put his hand up. ‘We’ll stop there, Miss North. The court will adjourn for luncheon. We shall resume in an hour.’