The Darrow Enigma, Melvin L. Severy [free biff chip and kipper ebooks TXT] 📗

with a good-natured smile and a modest dignity

that completely won the audience.]

 

At this point Maitland dismissed M. Godin and the court adjourned

for the day. That night M. Godin made his first call upon Gwen.

Their interview was private, and Gwen had nothing to say about it

further than that her caller had not hesitated to inform her that

he was aware a reward had been offered and that he considered he

had earned it. Maitland questioned her as to what he had claimed

as his due, but Gwen, with her face alternately flushed and ashen,

begged to be permitted to keep silence.

 

This attitude was, of course, not without its significance to

Maitland, and it was easy to see that M. Godin’s visit had much

displeased him. But he was not the only one who was displeased

that night. I regret that my promise of utter candour compels me

to bear witness to my own foolishness; for when Maitland found it

necessary to take Jeannette into the back parlour and to remain

there alone with her in earnest conversation one hour and twelve

minutes - I happened to notice the exact time - it seemed to me he

was getting unpleasantly confidential, and it nettled me. You may

fancy that I was jealous, but it was, most likely, only pique, or,

at the worst, envy. I was provoked at the nonchalant ease with

which this fellow did offhand a thing I had been trying to work

myself up to for several days, and had finally abandoned from sheer

lack of courage. Why couldn’t I carelessly say to her, “Miss

Jeannette, a word with you if you please,” and then take her into

the parlour and talk a “whole history.” Oh, it was envy, that’s

what it was! And then the change in Jeannette! If he had not been

making love to her - well, I have often wondered since if it were

all envy, after all

 

The next morning M. Latour’s trial was resumed, and Maitland again

put M. Godin upon the stand. The object of this did not appear at

the time, though I think the Judge fully understood it. Maitland’s

first act was to show the Judge and Jury a glass negative and a

letter, which he asked them to examine carefully as he held the

articles before them. He then passed the negative to M. Godin,

saying:

 

“Please take this by the lower corner, between your thumb and

forefinger, so that you may be sure not to touch the sight of the

picture; hold it to the light, and tell me if you recognise the

face.” M. Godin did as directed and replied without hesitancy: “It

is a picture of M. Latour.” “Good,” rejoined Maitland, taking back

the negative and passing him the letter; “now tell me if you

recognise that signature.” M. Godin looked sharply at the letter,

holding it open between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, and

read the signature, “‘Carl Cazenove.’ I should say that was M.

Latour’s hand.”

 

“Good again,” replied Maitland, reaching for the paper and appearing

somewhat disconcerted as he glanced at it. “You have smutched the

signature; - however, it doesn’t matter,” and he exhibited the paper

to the Judge and Jury. “The negative must have been oily - yes,

that’s where it came from,” and he quietly examined it with a

magnifying glass, to the wonderment of us all. “That is all, M.

Godin; thank you.”

 

As the celebrated detective left the stand we were all doing our best

to fathom what possible bearing all this could have upon Latour’s

confession. M. Godin for once seemed equally at a loss to comprehend

the trend of affairs, if I may judge by the deep furrows which

gathered between his eyes.

 

Maitland then proceeded to address the Court and to sum up his case,

the gist of which I shall give you as nearly as possible in his own

words, omitting only such portions as were purely formal,

uninteresting, or unnecessarily verbose.

 

“Your Honour and Gentlemen of the Jury: John Darrow was murdered and

the prisoner, M. Gustave Latour, has confessed that he did the deed.

When a man denies the commission of a crime we do not feel bound to

consider his testimony of any particular value; but when, on the

other hand, a prisoner accused of so heinous a crime as murder

responds to the indictment, ‘I am guilty,’ we instinctively feel

impelled to believe his testimony. Why is this? Why do we doubt

his word when he asserts his innocence and accept it when he

acknowledges his guilt? I will tell you. It is all a question of

motive. Could we see as cogent a motive for asseverating his guilt

as we find for his insisting upon his innocence, we should lend as

much credence to the one as to the other. I propose to show that M.

Latour has what seems to him the strongest of motives for confessing

to the murder of John Darrow. If I am able to do this to your

satisfaction, I shall practically have thrown M. Latour’s entire

testimony out of court, and nothing of importance will then remain

but the evidence of the government’s witness, M. Godin.”

 

A great wave of excitement swept over the room at these remarks.

“What!” each said to himself, “is it possible that this lawyer will

try to prove that Latour, despite his circumstantial confession,

did not commit the murder after all?” We did not dare let such a

thought take hold of us, yet could not see what else could explain

Maitland’s remarks. Is it any wonder, therefore, that we all waited

breathlessly for him to continue? M. Godin’s face was dark and

lowering. It was evident he did not propose to have his skill as a

detective, - and with it the Darrow reward, - set aside without a

struggle - at least so it seemed to me. The room was as quiet as

the grave when Maitland continued.

 

“I shall show you that M. Godin’s testimony is utterly unreliable,

and, moreover, that it is intentionally so.”

 

This was a direct accusation, and at it M. Godin’s face became of

ashen pallor. I felt that he was striving to control his anger and

saw the effort that it cost him as he fastened Maitland with a

stiletto-like look that was anything but reassuring. George did

not appear to notice it and continued easily:

 

“I shall prove to you beyond a doubt that, in the actual murder of

John Darrow, only one person was concerned, - by which I mean, that

only one person was outside the east window when he met his death.

I shall also show that M. Latour was not, and could not by any

possibility have been, that person. [At this juncture Browne arose

and walked toward the door. He was very pale and looked anything

but well. I thought he was going to leave, but he reseated himself

at the back of the room near the door.] I shall convince you that

M. Latour’s description of the way the murder was committed is false.”

 

All eyes were turned toward Latour, but he made no sign either of

affirmation or dissent. With his eyes closed and his hands falling

listlessly in front of him, he sat in a half-collapsed condition,

like one in a stupor. M. Godin shifted uneasily in his chair, as

if he could not remain silent much longer. Maitland proceeded with

calm deliberation:

 

“Mr. Clinton Browne - “

 

But he did not finish the sentence. At the name “Mr. Clinton Browne”

he was interrupted by a sudden commotion at the rear of the room,

followed by a heavy fall which shook the whole apartment. We all

turned and looked toward the door. Several men had gathered about

someone lying upon the floor, and one of them was throwing water in

the face of the prostrate man. Presently he revived a little, and

they bore him out into the cooler air of the corridor. It was

Clinton Browne. The great tension of the trial, his own strong

emotions, and the closeness of the room had doubtless been too much

for him. I could not but marvel at it, however. Here were delicate

women with apparently little or no staying power, and yet this

athlete, with the form of a Mars and the fibre of a Hercules, must

be the first to succumb. Verily, even physicians are subject to

surprises!

 

When quiet had been fully restored Maitland continued:

 

“I was about to say when the interruption occurred that Mr. Clinton

Browne and Mr. Charles Herne would both testify to the fact that a

very sensible time elapsed between the delivery of the blow and the

death of the victim. You will see, therefore, that I shall prove to

your satisfaction that Mr. Darrow’s death did not result from prussic

acid, as stated by the prisoner. I shall show you that a chemical

analysis of the wound made in my laboratory shortly after the murder

gave none of the well-known prussic-acid reactions. I shall prove

to you that John Darrow sprang to his feet after receiving the blow

which caused his death. That he clutched at his throat, and that,

after an effort consuming several seconds, he spoke disjointedly.

I shall convince you that if he had been poisoned in the manner

described he would have been dead before he could have so much as

raised his hand to his throat. We have been very particular to

make sure the exact nature of the poison which it is claimed was

used, so there can be no possible doubt upon this point. I shall

show you further that the little Capucin monkey which M. Latour says

he killed is still alive, and I will produce him, if necessary, and

will challenge M. Latour, or anyone else for that matter, to put him

through the drill which it is claimed he has been taught. I shall

inform you that, since I claim the monkey had no part in Mr. Darrow’s

death, I could not, during my examination of the prisoner, have been

stating anything from knowledge when I spoke of the manner in which

he had trained the animal, and gave details which M. Latour accepted

as those of the murder. My sole effort was to state a plausible way,

in order to see if the prisoner would not adopt it as the actual

course pursued. I also coupled with this the killing of the monkey

(though I knew the animal was still alive), that I might see if M.

Latour would follow my lead in this also. You have seen that he did

so; that he indorsed my guesses where they were purely guesses, and

that he also accepted the one statement I knew to be false. I shall

therefore ask you to consider about what the chances are that a

series of guesses like those which I made would represent the exact

facts as M. Latour has claimed, while at the same time you do not

lose sight of the undeniable fact that upon the only detail regarding

which I had positive information, M. Latour bore false testimony.”

 

Here Maitland whispered to Jenkins, who in turn spoke to the sheriff

or some other officer of the court. I would have given a good deal

just then to have been able to translate M. Godin’s thoughts. His

face was a study. Maitland immediately resumed:

 

“It has been positively stated by M. Latour that he gambled with Mr.

Darrow on Decatur Street between the 1st and 15th day of March. This

is false. In the first place it can be shown that while Mr. Darrow

occasionally played cards at his own home, he never gambled,

uniformly refusing to play