discovered, having been stabbed in the throat, and on herbreast, as in the previous tragedy, was a piece of paper from which thelarger portion had evidently been roughly torn. The small pieceadhering was pinned in exactly the same fashion as upon the deceasedMrs Inglewood, and no one could doubt that the murder which had beencommitted formed one of that series of horrifying outrages of which itformed the eighth.
"From that day till the present no clue whatever has been obtained as tothe identity of the poor woman who was then discovered, but events haveso conspired, and the police have been so vigilant, that a strangefinale has been brought about. There is an old truism, gentlemen, that`Murder will out,' and though that expression is worn almost threadbareby constant repetition, its force is recognised, and its truth isapplicable as much now as ever. `Murder,' in this case `did out,' by amost fortuitous circumstance which I will briefly narrate, although thestory has been freely circulated in the public Press."
In a few terse sentences counsel explained my arrest, and the discoveryof the seal in my wallet.
"Such, my lord," he continued, "were the means by which the prisoner atthe bar came into the hands of the police, and I would impress verystrongly upon the jury, at this stage, the consideration that whencharged at the police-station prisoner not only gave a fictitious name,but refused his address, besides giving as his excuse for his presencein the house on the night in question, a silly story which I venture tobelieve, you, gentlemen of the jury, will at once see to be outside thebounds of credibility. In the extraordinary explanations which theprisoner has given of his actions during the past year--strange andimprobable--none so utterly feeble as these have been advanced. Heasserts that his motive in going to the house in Angel Court, at thathour of the evening, was the altogether monstrous one of filching from acorpse evidence in connection--in close connection, I may say,gentlemen--with this very crime which we are now investigating."
A murmur of surprise ran through the densely-packed Court. This was thefirst time my explanation had been made public.
"Incredible as it may seem," said counsel, immediately resuming, "forthe last twelve months he says he has been actively pursuing inquiriesin regard to these crimes, and that his own life having, in some waywhich he will not at present disclose, been endangered, it has given himpeculiar reason so to do. This story, of course, the jury will regardin any light they choose, but I rather think that when the evidencewhich I shall presently call is given, absolutely no credence will beplaced upon it. My remarks will be brief at the present moment, but mylearned friends who have been instructed for the defence, will, nodoubt, seek to attach great importance to the personal character of theprisoner. Nevertheless I would ask what that character is? Two yearsago this man, who used formerly, it is true, to occupy a position ofsome importance in journalism, became possessed of a fortune, andwhether it be that the possession of so much wealth suddenly turned himinto a monomaniac, or whether, previously to that time, his actions, ofwhich we have, at present, no record, were characterised by this madthirst for blood, I cannot inform you. Whatever things may haveappeared to the outside world, there is no doubt in my mind that theprisoner has been cherishing a most intense and unnatural hatred againstmankind, and that with the accession of wealth his means for executinghis fell projects were correspondingly enhanced.
"It is true he bears the character of an English gentleman, but men ofthe world, such as I see before me in the jury box, are not to bedeceived by mere detail of dress or conversation. The actions of menare the means by which they must be judged, and, looking upon the pastlife of this man by the lurid glare which the statements of thewitnesses--and which his own actions themselves afford--it will bematter for surprise that his career has been allowed to go on so longunchecked. When he talks of his character, gentlemen, let me ask onequestion. In what was he engaged for nearly six months out of the lasttwelve? Perhaps my learned friend will answer this in his defence. Theprisoner refuses, gentlemen, to give one word of explanation."
Again there was a rustle in court, and the usher interposed with hisstern command of "Silence?"
"Now, gentlemen, with these few brief observations, which I shallsupplement later on, I will proceed to call my witnesses--persons whoseveracity is unimpeachable--who will give you such an insight into hispast life that will leave not the faintest suspicion of doubt in yourminds that the prisoner at the bar has been the perpetrator of one, atleast, of that string of almost unparalleled crimes which have shockedthe whole of the civilised world."
As the leading counsel, with a significant smile at the jury, resumedhis seat, and his junior rose to call the witnesses, I folded my armsand waited.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
THE CLIQUE.
The two men first called did not interest me. They were the constablesto whose evidence I had listened at the police court.
"Detective-Inspector Cronin," exclaimed Mr Paget, when they hadfinished, and a tall, well-preserved, black-bearded man entered thewitness-box and was sworn.
"I am John Cronin, detective inspector, Criminal InvestigationDepartment," said he, in answer to counsel. "The pocket-book which Iproduce was handed me on prisoner's arrest, and upon examining it, Ifound it contained, amongst other things, a bill of the Charing CrossHotel. I proceeded there, made inquiries, and ascertained that prisonerhad been staying there one day, giving his name as Frank Burgoyne. Iexamined the room he occupied, and found a despatch box in which was thephotograph I now produce. Comparing it with that of the woman murderedin Angel Court, taken after death, I find the features exactlycoincide."
"Was there any distinguishing mark?" asked his lordship.
"Yes, m'lord," replied the detective handing up both photographs. "Yourlordship will notice a small scar over the left eye."
"You made other inquiries, I believe?" asked Mr Paget.
"Yes; on the following day I went to prisoner's house, Elveham Dene,Northamptonshire, and searched the premises. On examining the drawersof a writing-table in the library, which were unlocked, I found twoblank pieces of paper on which were seals corresponding in everyparticular to that found on the lady murdered in Bedford Place."
What did all this mean? I knew nothing of these seals. Surely it mustbe some plot to take away my life!
The frightful suspicion--could Vera be concerned in it--entered my soul.
The doubt was too awful to be entertained; yet she had not communicatedwith me since my arrest.
"In the same drawer," continued the detective fumbling among some papershe held in his hand, "I found this telegram. It is dated on the day ofthe murder in Bloomsbury, and addressed to the deceased. Itreads:--`Handed in at Hull and received at the West Central districtoffice. Shall be with you about midnight. Be at home.' It is signedwith a single letter `B.' On examining the notepaper on thewriting-table, I found it was the same as that upon which the seals wereimpressed."
"You produce some of that notepaper, I think?" said Mr Paget.
"I do, sir."
The paper was handed to the judge, who held it to the light and comparedthe watermarks.
When he had satisfied himself the detective resumed:
"Throughout my examination I was in every way retarded by the action ofthe prisoner's wife. On proceeding to search one of the bedrooms shepositively refused to give me the keys of a chest of drawers, and I wastherefore compelled to force them. Concealed under some papers, whichlined one of the drawers, I discovered a small gold padlock, upon whichare engraved the initials `R.S.', and to which was attached the smallportion of gold chain I now produce. I had charge of the inquiries inthe case of Mrs Inglewood, and remember at the time of her decease shewas wearing a diamond bracelet which is also produced. When I examinedthe house at Bedford Place I discovered the case of the bracelet, whichbore the name of the jeweller. The manager of the firm in question willbe called to prove that the padlock found in the bedroom of the prisoneris the one belonging to Mrs Inglewood's bracelet, and that it had beensold to
her a week before her death."
Some of the dead woman's jewellery in my room! Incredible!
Was it possible that Vera--but, no--again banish the thought!
"In the same drawer," added the detective, with a self-satisfied smileat the intense surprise which his statements excited, "was this letter,in a lady's handwriting, signed `Ethel Inglewood': `Come and dineto-morrow evening. I have the money ready, and rely on you to keep mysecret.' The address embossed on the paper is `67, Bedford Place,' andthe date is that of the day previous to the murder."
"Do you prove anything else?" inquired Mr Paget, expectantly.
"No," replied the inspector, "except that from inquiries I made I findthat very shortly after the inquest on Mrs Inglewood the prisoner leftthe country