by Guy Boothby
CHAPTER XII
The preliminary investigation before the magistrate calls for but littlecomment. The evidence was, with but few exceptions, that which had beengiven before the coroner on the Monday and Wednesday preceding. If itwere remarkable for anything it was for the number of spectators in theCourt. The building, in which the coroner's inquiry had been conducted,had been crowded, but the police-court was packed, not with thepoorly-clad spectators which one usually meets and associates with thatmiserable place, but by well-dressed and even aristocratic members ofsociety. When Godfrey recovered from his first feeling of shame atfinding himself in such a place and in such a position, and looked abouthim, he recognised several people whom he had once accounted hisfriends, but who had now schemed and contrived by every means in theirpower, to obtain permission to watch, what they thought would amount tohis degradation and final extinction. Pulling himself together he gazedboldly around him, and more than one person there told himself orherself that a man who could look at one like that could never be guiltyof such a crime as murder. Mr. Rolland, the counsel who had beenretained by Codey for the defence, was a tall, handsome man, and ofothers, little above middle-age. He was the possessor of a bland, suavemanner which had the faculty of extracting information from the mostunwilling and reluctant witnesses. Near him sat Mr. Codey himself,keen-eyed and on the alert for anything that might tend to his client'sadvantage. The curiosity of the visitors was not destined, however, tobe gratified, for, when certain of the witnesses had been examined, thecase was adjourned for a week, and Godfrey returned to Holloway by theway he had come.
How the next seven days passed Godfrey declares he is unable to tell,but at last that weary week came to an end, and once more he stood inthe crowded Court. At first glance it looked, if such a thing werepossible, as if more people had been squeezed into the building than onthe previous occasion. The fashionable world was as well represented asbefore, while this time there were even more ladies present than hadhitherto been the case. The cabman who had driven the pair to BurfordStreet was examined and repeated his former evidence. He was subjectedto a severe cross-examination by Mr. Rolland, but his testimony remainedunshaken. The police-constable, who had seen them together outside thehouse, also repeated his tale. He was quite certain, he assured theCourt, that the woman in question was crying as he passed them. At thesame time he was not sure whether or not the prisoner was speakingangrily to her. When he left the witness-box Victor Fensden took hisplace. He described the life in the studio before Godfrey left England,and repeated the story of the attempt he had made to induce him to breakoff his relations with the girl. When the prosecution had done with himMr. Rolland took him in hand and inquired what reason he had forsupposing that his client had ever felt any affection for the deceasedwoman.
"Because he himself told me so," Fensden returned unblushingly. "Ipointed out to him the absurdity of such a thing, and was at lastsuccessful in inducing him to accompany me abroad."
"You parted where?"
"In Port Said. I went on to Palestine, while he returned to Naples."
"_En route_ to England?"
"I believe so."
"On what day did you yourself reach London?"
"On the day of the murder."
"When did you next see the prisoner?"
"He lunched with me at the Mahl Stick Club on the same day."
"That will do," said Mr. Rolland, somewhat to the surprise of the Court."I have no further questions to ask you."
It was at this point that the great sensation of the day occurred. WhenFensden had taken his place once more, Detective-sergeant Gunson wascalled, and a tall, handsome man, with a short, brown beard entered thebox. He stated that his name was Gunson, and that he was a member of theScotland Yard detective force. Two days previous, accompanied byDetective-sergeant McVickers, he had paid a visit to the prisoner'sresidence, Detwich Hall, in the county of Midlandshire. They had made asystematic search of the building, with the result that, hidden awaybehind a bookcase in the studio, they had discovered a long knife ofOriental workmanship and design. The blade was of razor-like sharpness,and was covered with certain dark stains. He found nothing else of anincriminating nature. Detective-sergeant McVickers was next called, whocorroborated his companion's evidence.
Dr. Bensford, an analytical chemist and lecturer at the WaterlooHospital, stated that he was instructed by the Home Secretary to make anexamination of the marks upon the knife in question, now produced, andhad arrived at the conclusion that they were the stains of human blood.(Great sensation in Court.)
So overwhelming was the shock to Godfrey, that for a moment he neitherheard nor saw anything. A ghastly faintness was stealing over him andthe Court swam before his eyes. With a mighty effort, however, he pulledhimself together and once more faced the Court. He looked at Sir Vivianand saw that the baronet's face had suddenly become very pale.
"Good Heavens!" he thought to himself, "will he suspect me also?"
The analyst having left the box, Victor Fensden was recalled, and theknife handed to him. He took it in his daintily gloved hand andexamined it carefully.
"Have you ever seen that knife before?" asked the prosecution.
Victor hesitated a moment before he replied.
"No," he answered, as if with an effort.
"Think again," said his examiner. "Remember that this is a court ofjustice, and it behooves you to speak the truth. Where did you see thatknife before?"
Once more Victor hesitated. Then in a somewhat louder voice he said:
"In Egypt. In Cairo."
"To whom does it belong?"
"To Mr.--I mean to the prisoner. I was with him when he purchased it."
A greater sensation than ever was produced by this assertion. Godfreyleaned forward on the rail of the dock and scrutinized the witnesscalmly.
"Your Worship," he said, addressing the magistrate, "with all duerespect I should like to be allowed to say that I have never seen thatknife in my life before."
The prosecution having finished their case, Mr. Rolland addressed theBench. He pointed out how entirely improbable it was that a gentlemanof Mr. Henderson's character and position would commit a murder of sucha cowardly nature. He commented on the fact that it would have beenimpossible, had he even desired to do such a thing, for him to havecommitted the crime and have walked from Burford Street to his hotel inPiccadilly in the time counted from the moment he was seen by the policeofficer to the time of his arrival at his hotel. Moreover, he asked themagistrate to consider the question as to whether a man who hadcommitted such a dastardly deed would have been likely to send themutilated remains to himself as a wedding present. It was useless forhim, however, to argue, the magistrate had already made up his mind, andGodfrey was therefore not surprised when he found himself committed tostand for his trial at the next Criminal Sessions, to be held in amonth's time. Bowing to the magistrate, he left the dock, entered thecab that was waiting for him in the yard, and was driven away toHolloway.
"It was the finding of that knife that did it," said Mr. Codeyreproachfully, when he next saw him. "Why on earth didn't you tell methat it was hidden there?"
"Because I did not know it myself," Godfrey replied. "When I told themagistrate that I had never seen it before, it was the truth. I did notbuy a knife in Cairo, so how could I have brought one home with me?"
"But who could have placed it behind the bookcase, if you did not?"asked the lawyer.
"That is more than I can say," said Godfrey simply.
"Look here, Mr. Henderson," said Codey sharply, "I have met a good manyunsuspicious men in my time, but I don't think I have ever met one sounsuspicious as you are. I have a list of all the people in your houseat the moment when that box arrived. Let us run it over. There was yourmother, your sister, and your _fiancee_, Miss Devereux. As our friendBurrell would say, they may be dismissed from the case without delay.Your butler and footman are old family servants, as are the housekeeper,the cook, and the head parlour-maid. They
may also be dismissed. Theremainder of the household would be scarcely likely to possess a knifeof that description, so we will dismiss them also. There remains onlyyourself and Mr. Fensden. You declare you are innocent, and we willpresume that you are. Now, Mr. Fensden, by his evidence has placed youwhere you are. That is certain. You say that he lied as to the fact ofyour being in love with the woman who is dead, and also when he saidthat you purchased the knife in Cairo. You say that he came to stay withyou on the day that the murder was discovered--why should he not haveplaced it behind the bookcase, in order that it should be anotherincriminating point against you?"
"I can not believe that he would do such a thing," said Godfrey. "Hewould not be so base."
"I am not so sure of it," said the astute lawyer. "What is more, I madea curious discovery to-day. The man in question pretends to be yourfriend. He gives his evidence with reluctance. Yet I noticed that whenthat knife was produced his face betrayed neither surprise nor emotion.Had he had your interests at heart, would he have been so callous?Answer me that! Now you have my reasons for arguing that he knew wherethe knife was, and also the man who had placed it there."
"The suspicions you suggest are too horrible," said Godfrey, rising andpacing the cell. "What possible reason could he have for doing me suchan injury?"
"One never knows. There are some men who hate the man who is supposed tobe their best friend, either because he, the friend, has been successfulin money-making, in love, or perhaps he presumes him to be happier thanhimself. You are rich; he is poor. You have been successful in yourprofession; he has been a failure. His hatred, like hundreds, might havebegun with jealousy and have terminated in this. I have known moreunlikely things."
"In that case what am I to do?"
"Leave it to me and to Burrell to arrange. If things were not goingright, my experience teaches me that that astute gentleman would haveshown signs of dissatisfaction before now. He has got his nose on thetrail, you may be sure, and if I know anything about him, he will notleave it for a moment."
"But do you think he will be able to prove my innocence?" asked Godfrey.
"All in good time, my dear sir, all in good time," said the lawyer."With me for your lawyer (pardon the boast), Rolland for your counsel,Dick Horsden and Braithwaite with him, and Burrell for the ferret thatis to make the rabbits bolt, you could not be better served. For my ownpart, I wouldn't mind making you a bet--and as a rule I am not a manwho gambles--that the last-named gentleman has already acquiredsufficient information to secure your return to Detwich with anunblemished character."
"Then do so by all means," said Godfrey. "I will take it with thegreatest pleasure in the world."
"Very well then," answered the lawyer. "I'll tell you what we'll do.I've a junior clerk who has the making of a man in him, but who is inconsumption. The doctors tell me that, unless he is sent for a long seavoyage to the other side of the world, he will not live a year. I havepromised to send him to the South Seas, and, if you like, this shall beour bet: If you get off scot-free, you pay all his expenses--somethinglike five hundred pounds--and also give him five hundred pounds to go onwith. If you don't, then I pay. Will you agree to that?"
"With all the pleasure in the world," Godfrey replied.
"Then it's settled. And now I must be going. Good-bye."
They shook hands, and then the lawyer took his departure, leavingGodfrey happier than he had been for some time past.
The month that separated the magistrate's inquiry from the Sessions atthe Old Bailey seemed to Godfrey like an eternity. Day after day creptslowly by, with but little, if anything, to relieve the monotony. Hetook his daily exercise, kept his cell in spotless order, receivedvisits from the lawyer, who came to report progress, and from SirVivian, who brought messages of hope and encouragement from the folk athome.
On one red-letter day he was informed that visitors had arrived to seehim, and he was accordingly conducted to the room where he had onseveral occasions interviewed his lawyer. The warder opened the door andhe entered, to be nearly overwhelmed by surprise. Standing by herfather's side, at the farther end of the room, and waiting to receivehim, was no less a person than Molly herself. She ran forward and threwherself into his arms.
"Molly, Molly," he faltered, "what does this mean? Why are you here? Youshould not distress yourself like this."
"I could not help it," she answered. "I had to come, I could stay awayfrom you no longer. You do not know how I have suffered. It seems as ifa lifetime had elapsed since we parted. At last I managed to persuadepapa to bring me up. My poor boy, how ill you look! How you must havesuffered!"
"Never mind about that, dear," said Godfrey. "If it all comes right inthe end, we can afford to suffer a little. Now tell me of yourself; youdon't know how hungry I am for news."
"No, don't let us talk of myself," she answered. "I want to talk aboutyou and your affairs. Do you know that this morning I saw Mr. Codey,your lawyer, for the first time? He was introduced to me by papa."
"And what did he say to you?" Godfrey inquired, with natural interest.
"I am afraid there is not much to tell," said Molly. "When I asked himif he thought we should be able to prove your innocence, he said,'That's a thing we shall have to see about; but I don't mind going sofar as to promise you, that, unless there's anything else that I don'tknow of, you and Mr. Henderson will eat your Christmas dinner togethernext year!' I asked him and implored him to tell me more, but I couldnot get anything else out of him."
Godfrey felt his heart beat more hopefully. It was something, indeed, toknow that Codey took such a bright view of the case. Then Molly went onto give him the latest news of his mother and sister. The old lady, itappeared, was suffering a great deal on her dear boy's account; but shefirmly believed that in the end he would be acquitted.
"It makes me so sad to see her," said Molly. "As you may suppose, Ispend the greater part of my time there now, and I think we help andcomfort each other."
"God bless you for your goodness to them, dear!" replied Godfrey. "Iknow what it must mean to them to have you with them."
"And now, Molly," said Sir Vivian, rising from his chair, "I am afraidwe must go. We were only allowed a short time with you, and we must notexceed it. Good-bye, my boy, and may God bless you! Don't bedown-hearted; we'll prove your innocence yet."
"You still believe in me, Sir Vivian?" he asked.
"As firmly as ever," the other answered. "I should not be here if I didnot. And now, Molly, you must come along."
Godfrey kissed his sweetheart, and wished her good-bye. When she hadleft the room, all the sunshine seemed to have gone out of it, and witha heavy heart he went back to the gloom of his prison life again.
