Edward Kane, Advocate in The Supernal Sisters. Chapter 12: ‘Cuckoo in the Coffin’

Now, it was well understood that old Sheriff Meikle was – in common parlance – “as blind as a bat”. Once the court had been convened and he was led onto the bench by his police officer, the old Sheriff would take a piece of silk from his pocket and produce a highly-polished monocle that he would affix into the orbit of his right eye. Ready for action, he would then scrutinise those appearing before him with an air of quizzical scepticism. The monocle had led to the old Sheriff acquiring the nickname “The Cyclops”. He was also known as something of a ‘singular’ character.

Edward Kane, Advocate in The Supernal Sisters. Chapter 12: ‘Cuckoo in the Coffin’ (Illustration: Lesley-Anne Barnes Macfarlane)

Edward Kane, wigged and gowned, stood up and addressed the court: “My lord, may I mention the case of the late Alexander Seaforth Humbie…’

The Cyclops adjusted his monocle, studied the figure of Learned Counsel before him, then exclaimed: ‘Aha!’ He turned to the police officer standing at the side of the bench and gave a loud declaration: ‘Aha – we have Ler-nid Coonsul here today – Ler-nid Coonsul! I hope that you gave that chair a good dust before Ler-nid Coonsul put his Ler-nid bahooky on it!’ The officer – who had already had a substantial nip of whisky that morning – gave a blurry nod. The case continued as the Sheriff picked up the papers and - nose almost touching them - read through them nodding and muttering to himself as he did so. He put them down: ‘So, Mr…’

‘Kane, my lord, Edward Kane.’

Edward Kane. Illustration: Lesley-Anne Barnes Macfarlane

‘Aye, Mr Kane, I’ve read through your pleadings and can I just say – they are very impressive….’

Kane bowed: ‘Thank you my lord.’

‘Very impressive indeed…’

More bowing: ‘I am very much obliged…’

‘They state your position with pellucid clarity.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And your motion is refused, sir.’

The wideness of Kane’s eyes at that point were the index of his surprise. The Cyclops noticed this and: ‘I don’t know why you’re so flummoxed, Mr Kane.’ He picked up the papers again: ‘Your application is to open the luxurious family grave where they thought that they had buried poor Mr Humbie and see who’s in the coffin, do I have you right, sir?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘But you already ken it’s not Humbie in that coffin, because the fella who got put in there – put in there by mistake – the fella in the coffin will have ten toes and Humbie only has nine, is that correct?

‘Perfectly correct, my lord.’

The Cyclops leaned forward over Kane: ‘So – you get oot the shovels and the spades and you dig up the coffin. And you open the coffin. And then you count the toes and then what?’

Kane considered this for a moment before replying: ‘And then we confirm that the body in that plot is not the body of Alexander Humbie.’

‘And then what?’

‘And then…’. Kane had the sudden realisation that he was now being schooled in the Art of Advocacy. And he was not proving a very good pupil. It dawned on him that the fact that the Sheriff was now asking the same question repeatedly was having the effect of drilling down to a problem with Kane’s application to exhume the body. He studied his papers: ‘And then it can be confirmed that, as I say, the body in that coffin is not the body of Alexander Humbie.’

The old Cyclops sat back in his chair: ‘Mr Kane – a word of advice – if I require to keep asking you the same question, then may I suggest to you, sir, that giving the same answer may not be the way forward here?’

(The sheriff – the same question:) ‘Imagine that I’ve given you the permission and you are allowed to exhume the body – then what?’

(The Advocate – essentially – and regrettably – the same answer:) ‘Then we will have confirmed that the…um…body in the…um… coffin is that of…um…’

The Cyclops waved this answer away: ‘Aye, aye – you’ll ken that the body is not that of Alexander Humbie – I’ve got all that. But then what?’

Kane’s supply of words seemed to have run out at this point. The old sheriff removed the monocle from the orbit of his right eye and began to tap the surface of the bench with it. “Ye see, Mr Kane, if you’re honest, you’ll admit that you already ken that the body in that coffin is not that of the poor late Mr Humbie. I’ve read through your pleadings, sir. There seems to have been some problem with the paperwork and that place in Mr Humbie’s family burial plot has obviously been taken by some random poor soul who died in similar circumstances.’

He continued to tap the monocle on the bench as if it was helping him think it through.

‘And when you come to open that coffin and you count those toes, no doubt you will confirm a “cuckoo in the nest” – or should I say: ‘cuckoo in the coffin”?’

At this witticism, the police officer at the side of the bench gave an involuntary – but appreciative – snort. The old sheriff smiled: ‘But here’s the thing: in that you already ken that the ten-toed corpse in the coffin is the wrong man – then what is to happen to the body of that poor devil once you’ve dug him up? That is what you cannot tell me.’

Kane had a vacant look on his face. He looked down at his instructing agent – who looked just as clue-less. The old sheriff smiled: ‘So let me make a suggestion, Mr Kane. I will refuse this motion in hoc statu and you can come back another day and make it again when you’re better instructed. You would agree that that is fair?’

‘Of course, my lord.’

Sheriff Meikle placed the monocle back into his eye socket: ‘Then it’s agreed – you will come back when you want to exhume a body that you actually think is the body of Alexander Humbie. Not one that you know is not.’

The old Sheriff smiled and stood up. Kane bowed.

‘Court riiiii-se!’

Edward Kane and Mr Horse Collected Short Stories Volume 1 is available on Amazon, Kindle and from all good bookshops