The Loss of the Jane Vosper by Freeman Wills Crofts

trades union secretaries. There was a rather woebegone cluster of men in poor clothes, obviously the shipwrecked crew, with, standing a little apart from them, but with a subtle suggestion of belonging to them, some half-dozen older and better dressed individuals, clearly the officers. Only a few persons who had taken seats in the public galleries appeared to be unconnected with the proceedings. These looked like unemployed, who had drifted in as a relief from the dreadful tedium of their lives. Not a single woman or girl was present: all were men.
    ‘This is going to be a bigger thing than I had any idea of,’ Jeffrey remarked to Alexander, as they squeezed their way into a seat near the solicitors’ table.
    ‘There are a good many interests affected,’ Alexander replied, ‘and probably most, if not all, are represented. There’s first of all the Board of Trade, then the owners, then the underwriters, then at least five insurance firms who covered the cargo. You discovered four besides your own firm, didn’t you?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Well, they’re probably all here. Then the British Latin States people will be called in connection with the rescue of the crew. And that’s only one side of the affair. The captain, officers and crew of the lost vessel are in a way of speaking upon trial. They will be here both as witnesses and to see that they get a fair hearing.’
    ‘That lot over there, I should say.’
    ‘I imagine so. It’s rather a serious business for the senior officers. The court can reprimand them, or suspend or remove their certificates, in the event of negligence or other fault being proved. They can’t be sent to prison, but even a reprimand is a terribly serious thing for an officer, specially a master.’
    ‘You mean he’d lose his job?’
    ‘Almost certainly. And that wouldn’t be the worst of it. He’d probably never get another. Particularly now, when so many qualified men are unemployed.’
    ‘Means ruin for life?’
    ‘It does, and so I expect the chief officers are all legally represented. And that adds to the crowd.’
    As he spoke, Clayton saw Jeffrey and pushed across. ‘Extraordinary affair this,’ he remarked. ‘Quite outside my previous experience.’
    ‘I’ve only heard what you told me yourself,’ Jeffrey answered, when he had introduced Alexander. ‘Has your captain not been able to clear it up?’
    ‘No, that’s just it,’ Clayton returned. ‘He doesn’t know a thing about it. His statement is simply that explosions occurred, but what caused them he can’t say. Extraordinarily unsatisfactory.’
    ‘Probably the enquiry will bring out the truth.’
    ‘I’m sure I hope so. Not to know is bad for us from every point of view. But you’re almost as much interested in it as we are?’
    ‘A good deal more deeply than we care to be,’ Jeffrey admitted.
    Clayton shook his head. ‘Well, let’s hope for the best,’ he murmured, as he moved to a seat beside his solicitor.
    It was now half past ten, the hour at which the proceedings were to open. People had continued to pour in, till the room was practically full. Almost all had found seats. The shipwrecked crew, of whom there seemed between thirty and forty, had pushed into the jury box and the witnesses’ seats behind. Counsel with their formidable briefs, and their attendant solicitors with their reference books and stacks of papers, had taken their places at the table. There was still, however, movement all over the room and a loud buzz of conversation.
    Presently there came a cry of ‘Silence!’ Everyone stood up and the stipendiary magistrate, Mr Courtney Trafford, entered, followed by two other men. He took his place in the centre of the dais, bowed to those present, and sat down, his companions sitting on his right and left hands respectively.
    ‘The assessors,’ Alexander whispered. ‘Technical men appointed to advise Trafford.’
    Jeffrey nodded, settling himself more comfortably in his seat. They were