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Updated: May 7, 2025
He was part and parcel of the high tradition, a reminder of the fact that Hathelsborough possessed a Charter of Incorporation centuries before its now more popular and important neighbouring boroughs gained theirs, and in his own opinion the discontinuance of his symbols of office would have been little less serious than the sale of the Mayor's purple robe and chain of solid gold: Spizey, thus attired, was Hathelsborough.
Sarah Jane Spizey yes. Wife of the Town Bellman. Resident in St. Laurence Lane. Went out charing sometimes; sometimes worked at Marriner's Laundry. Odd-job woman, in fact. "Mrs. Spizey," said the Coroner, "I understand that on the evening of Mr. Wallingford's death you were engaged in some work in the Moot Hall. Is that so?" "Yes, sir. Which I was a-washing the floor of this very court."
Interest was beginning to thicken: the people in court, from Simon Crood, pompous and aloof in his new grandeur of chief magistrate, to Spizey the bellman, equally pompous in his ancient livery, were already open-mouthed with wonder at the new and startling development.
Why shouldn't his Worship come here at night and stick up there as long as he likes? What's against it?" "Precedent!" retorted Spizey. "Ain't never been done before never! Haven't I been in the office I hold nigh on to forty years? Seen a many mayors, aldermen and common councillors come and go in my time.
"Did he say why he wanted to go into the church?" "Yes, to write out a hinscription for a London gent as wanted it." "Did you give him the keys?" "I did." "Did you see him go into the church?" "Yes, and hear him lock himself inside it." "Did he eventually bring the keys back?" "Not to me. My missis." Meeking waved Spizey's magnificence aside and called for Mrs. Spizey. Mrs.
"Then you went home, I suppose?" "I did, sir, and very thankful to!" "Was your husband at home?" "He were not, sir. Which Spizey had gone out to have his glass, sir as is his custom." "Did Mr. Krevin Crood come to you with the keys of the church?" "He did, sir. Which the clock had just struck eight. And remarked, sir, that the light was failing, and that his eyes wasn't as strong as they had been.
Pleasant-like, sir." "I see! Had Mr. Krevin Crood any papers in his hand?" "He had papers in his hand, sir, or under his arm." "And that was just after eight o'clock?" "The clocks had just struck it, sir." Meeking nodded his dismissal of Mrs. Spizey. It was plain that he was getting near the end of his case and his manner became sharp and almost abrupt. "Call Detective-Sergeant Welton," he said.
Before he could say anything further, Hawthwaite rose from his seat and making his way to him exchanged a few whispered remarks with him. Presently the Coroner nodded, as if in assent to some suggestions. "Oh, very well," he said. "Then perhaps we'd better have her at once. Call what's her name, did you say? Oh, yes Sarah Jane Spizey!"
And, as he was not slow to remind awe-stricken audiences at his favourite tavern, Mayors, Aldermen and Councillors were, so to speak, creatures of the moment the Mayor, for example, was His Worship for twelve months and plain Mr. Chipps the grocer ever after but he, Spizey, was a Permanent Institution, and not to be moved.
"What time was that, Mrs. Spizey?" "Which I was at it, your Worshipful, from six o'clock to eight." "Did you leave this place at all during that time?" "Not once, sir; not for a minute." "Now during the whole of that time, Mrs. Spizey, did you see anybody come up those stairs, cross the court, and go towards the Mayor's Parlour?" "Which I never did, sir! I never see a soul of any sort.
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