CHAPTER XIX
CONFLICTING EVIDENCE
"By the time the public had been able to think over James Fairbairn'sevidence, a certain disquietude and unrest had begun to make itself feltboth in the bank itself and among those of our detective force who hadcharge of the case. The newspapers spoke of the matter with very obviouscaution, and warned all their readers to await the further developmentof this sad case.
"While the manager of the English Provident Bank lay in such aprecarious condition of health, it was impossible to arrive at anydefinite knowledge as to what the thief had actually made away with. Thechief cashier, however, estimated the loss at about L5000 in gold andnotes of the bank money--that was, of course, on the assumption that Mr.Ireland had no private money or valuables of his own in the safe.
"Mind you, at this point public sympathy was much stirred in favour ofthe poor man who lay ill, perhaps dying, and yet whom, strangelyenough, suspicion had already slightly touched with its poisoned wing.
"Suspicion is a strong word, perhaps, to use at this point in the story.No one suspected anybody at present. James Fairbairn had told his story,and had vowed that some thief with false keys must have sneaked throughthe house into the inner office.
"Public excitement, you will remember, lost nothing by waiting. Hardlyhad we all had time to wonder over the night watchman's singularevidence, and, pending further and fuller detail, to check our growingsympathy for the man who was ill, than the sensational side of thismysterious case culminated in one extraordinary, absolutely unexpectedfact. Mrs. Ireland, after a twenty-four hours' untiring watch beside herhusband's sick bed, had at last been approached by the detective, andbeen asked to reply to a few simple questions, and thus help to throwsome light on the mystery which had caused Mr. Ireland's illness and herown consequent anxiety.
"She professed herself quite ready to reply to any questions put to her,and she literally astounded both inspector and detective when she firmlyand emphatically declared that James Fairbairn must have been dreamingor asleep when he thought he saw her in the doorway at ten o'clock thatnight, and fancied he heard her voice.
"She may or may not have been down in the hall at that particular hour,for she usually ran down herself to see if the last post had brought anyletters, but most certainly she had neither seen nor spoken to Mr.Ireland at that hour, for Mr. Ireland had gone out an hour before, sheherself having seen him to the front door. Never for a moment did sheswerve from this extraordinary statement. She spoke to James Fairbairnin the presence of the detective, and told him he _must_ absolutely havebeen mistaken, that she had _not_ seen Mr. Ireland, and that she had_not_ spoken to him.
"One other person was questioned by the police, and that was Mr. RobertIreland, the manager's eldest son. It was presumed that he would knowsomething of his father's affairs; the idea having now taken firm holdof the detective's mind that perhaps grave financial difficulties hadtempted the unfortunate manager to appropriate some of the firm's money.
"Mr. Robert Ireland, however, could not say very much. His father didnot confide in him to the extent of telling him all his private affairs,but money never seemed scarce at home certainly, and Mr. Ireland had, tohis son's knowledge, not a single extravagant habit. He himself had beendining out with a friend on that memorable evening, and had gone on withhim to the Oxford Music Hall. He met his father on the doorstep of thebank at about 11.30 p.m. and they went in together. There certainly wasnothing remarkable about Mr. Ireland then, his son averred; he appearedin no way excited, and bade his son good night quite cheerfully.
"There was the extraordinary, the remarkable hitch," continued the manin the corner, waxing more and more excited every moment. "Thepublic--who is at times very dense--saw it clearly nevertheless: ofcourse, every one at once jumped to the natural conclusion that Mrs.Ireland was telling a lie--a noble lie, a self-sacrificing lie, a lieendowed with all the virtues if you like, but still a lie.
"She was trying to save her husband, and was going the wrong way towork. James Fairbairn, after all, could not have dreamt quite all thathe declared he had seen and heard. No one suspected James Fairbairn;there was no occasion to do that; to begin with he was a great heavyScotchman with obviously no powers of invention, such as Mrs. Ireland'sstrange assertion credited him with; moreover, the theft of thebank-notes could not have been of the slightest use to him.
"But, remember, there was the hitch; without it the public mind wouldalready have condemned the sick man upstairs, without hope ofrehabilitation. This fact struck every one.
"Granting that Mr. Ireland had gone into his office at ten minutes toten o'clock at night for the purpose of extracting L5000 worth of notesand gold from the bank safe, whilst giving the theft the appearance of anight burglary; granting that he was disturbed in his nefarious projectby his wife, who, failing to persuade him to make restitution, took hisside boldly, and very clumsily attempted to rescue him out of hisdifficult position--why should he, at nine o'clock the followingmorning, fall in a dead faint and get cerebral congestion at sight of adefalcation he knew had occurred? One might simulate a fainting fit, butno one can assume a high temperature and a congestion, which the mostordinary practitioner who happened to be called in would soon see werenon-existent.
"Mr. Ireland, according to James Fairbairn's evidence, must have goneout soon after the theft, come in again with his son an hour and a halflater, talked to him, gone quietly to bed, and waited for nine hoursbefore he fell ill at sight of his own crime. It was not logical, youwill admit. Unfortunately, the poor man himself was unable to give anyexplanation of the night's tragic adventures.
"He was still very weak, and though under strong suspicion, he was left,by the doctor's orders, in absolute ignorance of the heavy charges whichwere gradually accumulating against him. He had made many anxiousinquiries from all those who had access to his bedside as to the resultof the investigation, and the probable speedy capture of the burglars,but every one had strict orders to inform him merely that the police sofar had no clue of any kind.
"You will admit, as every one did, that there was something verypathetic about the unfortunate man's position, so helpless to defendhimself, if defence there was, against so much overwhelming evidence.That is why I think public sympathy remained with him. Still, it wasterrible to think of his wife presumably knowing him to be guilty, andanxiously waiting whilst dreading the moment when, restored to health,he would have to face the doubts, the suspicions, probably the openaccusations, which were fast rising up around him."