The first train that left Detwich for London next morning had for its passengers Sir Vivian Devereux, Godfrey Henderson, and Victor Fensden. Inspector Griffin was also travelling by it, not a little elated by the importance of his errand. On reaching Euston, after promising to meet them at the inquest, Fensden drove off to his club, while Sir Vivian and Godfrey made their way to Lincoln's Inn Fields, where they were to have an interview with Mr. Cornelius Bensleigh, of the firm of Bensleigh and Bensleigh, solicitors. That gentleman had already received a letter from Godfrey, written on the Saturday night, giving him an outline of the affair, and acquainting him of the part the latter had played in the mystery. "I am afraid this will be calculated to put you to a considerable amount of inconvenience, Mr. Henderson," said the lawyer, after they had discussed the matter for a few moments. "From what I can gather, you were This course having been agreed upon, they accompanied him to the office of the lawyer in question, and, after a few moments' delay, were conducted to his presence. He looked more like a trainer of racehorses than a criminal lawyer. He was the possessor of a sharp, keen face, a pair of restless eyes, a clean-shaven mouth and chin, while the whiskers on his cheeks were clipped to a nicety. The elderly lawyer introduced Sir "Ah, the Burford Street murder," said Mr. Codey, as soon as he heard the name of the case. "I was wondering how long it would be before I was drawn into it. And so, Mr. Henderson, you have the misfortune to be connected with it? As a matter of fact, I suppose you are the gentleman in evening dress who was seen speaking to the girl on the pavement outside the house." "I am; but how do you know it?" Godfrey asked, in considerable surprise. "I merely guessed it," said the lawyer. "I see from the papers that the deceased was once your model. Now you come to me for help. I simply put two and two together, with the result aforesaid. Perhaps you will be kind enough to tell me all you know about it. Be very sure you keep nothing back; after that I shall know how to act." Thus encouraged, Godfrey set to work, and told the tale with which by this time my readers are so familiar. The lawyer listened patiently, made a few notes on a sheet of paper as the story progressed, and when he had finished asked one or two more or less pertinent questions. "You say that you returned to your hotel immediately after your interview with the deceased?" "Immediately," Godfrey answered. "Did you take a cab?" "No," said Godfrey; "it was a cold night, and I thought the walk would do me good." "But you drove to the house in a cab?" "I did, and dismissed it at once." "That was unfortunate. Do you think the driver would know you again?" "I should think it very probable," said Godfrey. "You were standing under the lamp-post, of course, when you paid him, with the light shining full upon your face?" "I suppose so, as the lamp is exactly opposite the door; but I did not think of that." "No; but, you see, I must think of these things," said the lawyer. "And when you returned to your hotel?" "I called for a brandy and soda, and, having drunk it, went to bed." When he had learned all he desired to know, it was arranged that Mr. Codey should attend the coroner's court, and watch the case on Godfrey's behalf; after which they left the office. On reaching the club where Sir Vivian When they reached the building in which the inquest was to be held, they discovered that a large crowd had collected; indeed, it was only with difficulty, and after they had explained their errand, that they could gain admittance to the building. Fensden was awaiting them there, still looking pale and worried; also Mr. Codey, the lawyer, appearing even keener than he had done at his office. "Public curiosity is a strange thing," said the latter, as he looked round the packed court. "Probably not more than five persons now in this room ever saw the dead girl, and yet they crowd here as though their lives depended upon their not losing a word of what is said about her." At this moment an official came forward, Then the coroner entered, a portly, dignified gentleman, and took his seat, after which the proceedings were opened in due form. The landlord of the house, in which the deceased had resided, was the first witness called. He deposed as to the name she was known by in the house, stated that she was supposed to be an artist's model, and that, to the best of his belief, she had been a quiet and respectable girl. At any rate, her rent had invariably been paid on the day on which it had become due. He had identified the body as being that of his lodger. During the time she had been with him he had never known her to receive a visitor; as a matter of fact, she had kept to herself; scarcely speaking to any one save when she returned their salutations on the stairs. He was not aware that she had received a letter, and, as far as he knew, she had not a friend in London. The next witness was the German cabinet-maker, who had been the first to discover the murder. He gave evidence through the medium of an interpreter, and described how The next witness was the police-constable on the beat, who had been called in by the landlord. He gave evidence as to the opening of the door, and the discovery then made. He was followed by the doctor, who had made the post-mortem examination, and who described the nature and situation of the various wounds, and the conclusions he had drawn therefrom. Then came the first sensation of the afternoon, when the well-known artist, Godfrey Henderson, was called. In answer to the various questions put to him, he deposed that he had known the deceased for upward of a year; that he had employed her for "On hearing that she was married, did you not inquire the name of her husband?" asked the coroner. "I did," Godfrey replied, "but she refused to tell me." "Did not that strike you as being singular?" "No," Godfrey replied. "When she informed me that he was dead, I did not press the matter." "You are quite sure, I suppose, that she was not married when you met her at Naples?" "I feel convinced that she was not; but I could not say so on my oath." "And when you opened the box, which you say was sent you at your country residence, were you not shocked at the discovery you made?" "Naturally I was!" "And what conclusions did you come to?" "I gathered from it that my old friend had been murdered." "What caused you to recognise her hands?" "A certain mark above the knuckle of the second finger, the result, I should say, of a burn." At this point, Mr. Codey, who had already informed the coroner that he was appearing on behalf of the witness then being examined, asked an important question. "On making this terrible discovery, what was your immediate action?" "I sent for my prospective father-in-law, Sir Vivian Devereux, and for the police officer in charge of Detwich. It was at once agreed that we should communicate with the authorities and that I should render them all the assistance in my power." "Pardon my touching upon such a matter, but I believe you are about to be married, Mr. Henderson?" said the coroner. "I hope to be married on Thursday next," said Godfrey. "I do not think I need trouble you any further," the coroner then remarked. The next witness was a police officer, who informed the Court that inquiries had been made in Naples concerning the man Dardini, with the result that it was discovered that he had been arrested for assault upon a foreigner a fortnight before the deceased's return to England, and that he was still in prison. This effectually disposed of his association with the crime, and added an even greater air of mystery to it than before. When this witness had stepped down, Mr. Victor Fensden was called. He stated that he was also an artist, and a friend of Mr. Godfrey Henderson. It was he who had first discovered the deceased, and he had recommended her to his friend for the picture of which she was afterward the principal figure. She had always struck him as being a quiet and respectable girl. When asked why she had received her notice of dismissal, Victor answered that it was because his friend, Mr. Henderson, had suddenly made up his mind to travel. "I understand you to say suddenly," said the superintendent in charge of the case. "Why was it Mr. Henderson suddenly made up his mind to go abroad?" "I do not know that this question is at all "But anything that bears on the question at issue can scarcely be irrelevant," said the coroner. "I think it would be better if you would answer the question." Fensden paused for a moment while the Court waited in suspense. "I repeat my question," said the superintendent. "Why did the deceased so suddenly lose her employment?" Once more Victor hesitated. Godfrey looked at him in surprise. Why did he not go on? "We decided to travel on account of a conversation Mr. Henderson and I had concerning the girl." "What was that conversation?" inquired the coroner. Once more Fensden seemed to hesitate. "Did the conversation refer to the deceased?" "It did!" "I gather from your reluctance to answer that you were afraid Mr. Henderson might become attached to her, so you used your friendly influence in order to hurry him away Another pause, during which Victor's face was seen to express great emotion. "That was so." "You are sure that Mr. Henderson was attached to the deceased?" "I am sure of it." "Did you know that Mr. Henderson was aware of the deceased's return to Naples?" "I was aware that he was in correspondence with her," said Victor; "but he said nothing to me of his intention to visit her in Naples." "Had you known this, would you have endeavoured to dissuade him from such a course?" "I do not know what I should have done; but I should think it very probable that I should have endeavoured to prevent their meeting." "When did you become aware of the deceased's return to England?" "When Mr. Henderson informed me of it on my arrival at his house at Detwich Hall." "You were naturally very much surprised to hear that he had met her, I suppose?" "Very much," Victor replied. "Did you say anything to him upon the subject?" "I warned him against the folly of being drawn into another entanglement with her, particularly when he was to be married in ten days' time." "You say another entanglement with her? Are we, therefore, to understand that there had been an entanglement before?" Again Victor paused before he replied. "I withdraw the word 'another,'" he said, hurriedly. "I did not mean it in that sense. I merely suggested to Mr. Henderson that his fiancÉe might not care to know that he had been seen driving through the streets of London after midnight with an Italian girl, who had once been his model." "Good Heavens!" said Godfrey to himself. "And this is the man whom I have trusted and who has called himself my friend for so many years!" At this point the coroner, addressing the jury, stated his intention of adjourning the inquiry until the following Wednesday morning at eleven o'clock. He had excellent reasons for keeping it open until then, he said, and these reasons he had communicated to the foreman of the jury, who was completely satisfied. "Godfrey," he began, in a faltering voice, "after what they dragged out of me, I scarcely know what to say to you." "In any case, I beg that you will not say it," said Godfrey, coldly. "You have said quite enough already." Then, turning to the others, he continued: "Come, gentlemen, let us find a cab. I suppose we had better go back to your office, Mr. Codey?" "I think it would be better," said that gentleman. "I must have a talk with you upon this matter." Then, hailing a cab, they entered it, leaving Fensden on the pavement looking after them. Godfrey's face was still very pale. It was impossible for him to be blind to the fact that his kindness to Teresina had been the means of bringing down grave suspicion upon himself. Yet, even with that knowledge before him, he knew that he would not, or When they reached the lawyer's private office, the door was shut and they sat down to business. "Well, Mr. Henderson," said Mr. Codey, "what is your opinion now?" "I think that the public mind is already jumping to the conclusion that I am responsible for the murder," Godfrey answered, without fear or hesitation. "I am very much afraid that you must accustom yourself to look upon it in that light," the other replied. "The man Fensden's evidence, given in such a manner as he gave it, was unnecessarily damaging." "He is a black-hearted scoundrel," said the old baronet, wrathfully. "I told you yesterday, Godfrey, that I didn't trust him, and that I felt sure he bore you some ill-will. And yet, do you know, Mr. Codey," he added, turning to the lawyer, "Mr. Henderson has done everything for that man. He has practically kept him for years past, he took him on a tour round Europe only a few months ago, and this is the result. It makes one sick with humanity." "When you have seen as much of humanity "Never," said Godfrey, firmly. "The man who declares that I did, lies." "Very probable, but that won't prevent his saying it. When you left her in Burford Street, did you meet any one near the house?" "Not a soul. The street, so far as I could see, was empty." "I think you said this morning that the night porter let you in at your hotel? Did you make any remark to him respecting the time?" "Yes, I said to him when he had opened the door, 'I'm afraid I'm rather late,' then, looking at my watch, I added, 'Why, it's half-past twelve!'" "If he's blessed with a good memory, he will recollect that," said Codey. Then with his usual abruptness, he continued, "Which way did you walk from Burford Street?" "Through the Tottenham Court Road, along Oxford Street, and down Bond Street." "A man shall walk it quickly to-morrow morning in order to see how long it will take. If only that hall porter has a good memory, and can be relied upon, this should prove an important point." "But surely, my good sir," put in Sir Vivian, "you do not for a moment suppose that Mr. Henderson will be accused of having killed this woman?" "I should not be at all surprised," said the lawyer, quietly. "Let us regard the facts of the case. Some months back, Mr. Henderson employed this girl as his model, and retained her services when he really had no need for them. He was on such familiar terms with her that his friend felt compelled to remonstrate with him. As a result they left England hurriedly, the girl following them to Naples. No, no, Mr. Henderson, I beg that you will be silent. Remember, I am telling the story as I should tell it if I were against you instead of for you. As I have said, the girl left for Naples, and I insinuate that she followed you. It can be proved that she corresponded with you, and that you sent your friend on his way to travel alone; always bearing "But her mother was with her," said Godfrey hurriedly, his face flushing angrily at the imputation put upon his action by the other. "That point is immaterial," the lawyer replied calmly. "It is sufficient for the purposes of the prosecution that you met her there. Then you proceeded to England, and, after a little while in the country, became engaged to the daughter of Sir Vivian, now present. The Italian girl had also gone to England. Why? To be with you, of course. You, however, see nothing of her. Therefore, she is unhappy. Why? Because you are about to be married." "But that is only supposition," said Godfrey. "As a matter of fact, she herself was already married." "To whom? Why not to yourself?" "Good Heavens, man," said Godfrey, starting from his seat, "you don't surely mean to say that you believe I had married her?" "I believe nothing," he replied, still with "As you put it, no," said Godfrey. "But it can surely be proved that I had nothing whatsoever to do with it, beyond what I have said." "Exactly; and that is what we have got to do. But I don't mind telling you candidly "One more question, Mr. Codey. I should like you, before we go any further, to tell me honestly whether, in your own heart, you believe me to be innocent or guilty?" "I believe you to be innocent," said the lawyer; "and you may be sure I shall try to prove it." |