The Cask, Freeman Wills Crofts [snow like ashes series .txt] 📗

that he, Clifford, was now in a position to prove most of Felix’s statement, but the worst of it was that most of Felix’s statement might be proved without proving Felix’s innocence. So much so, indeed, that Clifford could not yet quite banish the suspicion that the whole thing was prearranged.

He questioned Mr. Bonchose exhaustively, but without learning anything fresh. His visitor had not seen the artist on the Wednesday or Thursday, and could not help towards the alibi. Finding that nothing was to be gained by further conversation, Clifford bowed the young man out, having promised to let him know how things progressed.

XXIV Mr. Georges La Touche

Some days later Mr. Clifford and Mr. Lucius Heppenstall, K.C.⁠—who were close personal friends⁠—dined together at the former’s residence, intending afterwards to have a long chat over the case. Mr. Heppenstall had returned from Denmark rather earlier than was expected, and had already studied the documents received from the prosecution, as well as Clifford’s notes of what he had learnt. The two men had together interviewed Felix and Bonchose and some other small inquiries had been made, the only point of importance discovered being that the late Miss Devine had crossed from Calais to Folkestone on the Sunday in question and had been alone on deck, both her maids having been helplessly ill. The meeting on this evening was to formulate a policy, to decide on the exact line which the defence should take.

The difficulty of this decision was felt by both men to be considerable. In their previous cases there had nearly always been an obvious defence. Frequently two distinct lines, or even three, had been possible, the problem then being the selection of the best. But here their difficulty was to find any defence at all.

“The first thing we must settle,” said Heppenstall, throwing himself into an easy-chair, “is whether we are going to assume this fellow Felix innocent or guilty. What is your own private opinion?”

“I hardly know what to think,” he answered finally. “I must admit that Felix’s manner and personality impress me favourably. He certainly told his story in a convincing way. Then these people that we have recently seen confirm a great deal of what he said. Further, they evidently like and believe in him. Look at Martin, for example. He is a noisy, blustering fellow, but he is no fool. He knows Felix well, and he believes in him to the extent of offering to guarantee our fees to get him off. All that must count for something. Then there is nothing inherently impossible in his story. It all might have happened just as he says. And lastly, his admitted shock when the cask was opened seems strongly in his favour.”

“But?”

“But? Well, there is all the rest of the case.”

“Then you have no private opinion?”

“Not definitely. My opinion inclines towards innocence, but I am by no means sure.”

“I rather agree with you,” remarked the K.C. Then, after a pause, “I have been thinking this thing over and I don’t for the life of me see a chance of clearing him on the evidence. It is too strong. Why, if it is true, it is overpowering. It seems to me our only hope is to deny the evidence.”

“To deny it?”

“To deny it. You must admit that Felix is either guilty or the victim of a plot.”

“Of course.”

“Very well. Let us stick to that. The evidence is not genuine because Felix is the victim of a plot. How does that strike you?”

“Well, you know, I shouldn’t be at all surprised if that was the actual fact. I’ve thought over it a good deal, and the more I think the more I begin to doubt those things that were found at St. Malo. That letter from Emmie, the marks on the blotting paper, and the diamond pin, they all strike me as being a little too conclusive to be natural. Their very comprehensiveness suggests selection. Then typewritten letters anyone can produce. No, I shouldn’t wonder if you’re on the right track.”

“I think it’s our best defence, anyway.”

“I think it’s our only defence. But, mind you, it’s an easy theory to suggest, but a mighty hard one to establish.”

“There’s only one way,” Heppenstall declared, pouring himself out some whisky from the jar at his elbow, “we must suggest the real murderer.”

“If we must find the real murderer we may as well let the case alone. If Scotland Yard and the Sûreté couldn’t get him, we are not likely to.”

“You haven’t quite got me. I don’t say we must find him. It will be enough to suggest him. All we have to do is to show that some other person had a motive for Madame’s death, and could have murdered her and carried out the plot against Felix. A doubt would then arise as to which of the two was guilty, and, if that doubt was strong enough, Felix would get the benefit of it.”

“But that makes our problem no easier. The difficulty still lies in the finding of this other person.”

“We can only try; it may lead to something. Our first question then is: If Felix is innocent, who might be guilty?”

There was silence for several seconds, then Heppenstall spoke again.

“Who, perhaps I should say, is least unlikely to be guilty?”

“I think there can be only one answer to that,” returned Clifford. “In the very nature of the case a certain suspicion must attach to Boirac. But the police were fully alive to that. From all we hear, they went into it thoroughly and came to the conclusion he was innocent.”

“It depended on an alibi. But you know as well as I do alibis can be faked.”

“Undoubtedly, but they concluded this one wasn’t. We don’t know the exact details, but it seems to have been fully tested.”

“At all events, from the information available, I think we may assume that if Felix is innocent, Boirac is guilty. There is no suggestion of any third party being involved. If, then, we