The Wings of Victory by Fred M. White

It was natural enough in the circumstances that the wildest stories should have gone round in connection with the tragical events at Baron's Court. In a country neighbourhood there are always simple people ready to believe anything, especially in the case where the dead man had had a great reputation for eccentricity, and, indeed, most of the country people thereabouts would not cross the park at Baron's Court for a King's ransom. But, of course, these had heard all about Vim, and most of them knew the great chimpanzee by sight, therefore it was natural enough that, once the tongue of rumour was set going, there was no end to the many tales that it told. And when it became known that Vim had escaped from the park and was wandering about on the moors, something like a state of terror prevailed. One or two farmers had gone out with guns in their hand with the avowed intention of shooting Vim on sight, for these simple folk firmly believed that John Bevill owed his death to a mistaken kindness for a ferocious animal, and held that until the beast was destroyed there would be no peace in the countryside. It was in vain that those who knew protested; indeed, the more they argued the point, the more convinced the agriculturists were that the culprit was out there on the moors. And so the time went on until the adjourned inquest was reached.

Despite the whispered horrors and unseen danger, a goodly number of people flocked through the gates at Baron's Court, filled with eager curiosity to hear the rest of the story. And with them came not only a local correspondent or two, but representatives of the great newspapers. Directly the coroner had taken his place, Dr. Grant was called.