CHAPTER XXIII
A MEMORABLE DAY
"Two days later the police applied for a warrant for the arrest of Mr.Percival Brooks on a charge of forgery.
"The Crown prosecuted, and Mr. Brooks had again the support of Mr.Oranmore, the eminent K.C. Perfectly calm, like a man conscious of hisown innocence and unable to grasp the idea that justice does sometimesmiscarry, Mr. Brooks, the son of the millionaire, himself still thepossessor of a very large fortune under the former will, stood up in thedock on that memorable day in October, 1908, which still no doubt livesin the memory of his many friends.
"All the evidence with regard to Mr. Brooks' last moments and the forgedwill was gone through over again. That will, it was the contention ofthe Crown, had been forged so entirely in favour of the accused, cuttingout every one else, that obviously no one but the beneficiary under thatfalse will would have had any motive in forging it.
"Very pale, and with a frown between his deep-set, handsome Irish eyes,Percival Brooks listened to this large volume of evidence piled upagainst him by the Crown.
"At times he held brief consultations with Mr. Oranmore, who seemed ascool as a cucumber. Have you ever seen Oranmore in court? He is acharacter worthy of Dickens. His pronounced brogue, his fat, podgy,clean-shaven face, his not always immaculately clean large hands, haveoften delighted the caricaturist. As it very soon transpired during thatmemorable magisterial inquiry, he relied for a verdict in favour of hisclient upon two main points, and he had concentrated all his skill uponmaking these two points as telling as he possibly could.
"The first point was the question of time, John O'Neill, cross-examinedby Oranmore, stated without hesitation that he had given the will to Mr.Percival at eleven o'clock in the morning. And now the eminent K.C.brought forward and placed in the witness-box the very lawyers intowhose hands the accused had then immediately placed the will. Now, Mr.Barkston, a very well-known solicitor of King Street, declaredpositively that Mr. Percival Brooks was in his office at a quarterbefore twelve; two of his clerks testified to the same time exactly, andit was _impossible_, contended Mr. Oranmore, that within three-quartersof an hour Mr. Brooks could have gone to a stationer's, bought a willform, copied Mr. Wethered's writing, his father's signature, and thatof John O'Neill and Pat Mooney.
"Such a thing might have been planned, arranged, practised, andultimately, after a great deal of trouble, successfully carried out, buthuman intelligence could not grasp the other as a possibility.
"Still the judge wavered. The eminent K.C. had shaken but not shatteredhis belief in the prisoner's guilt. But there was one point more, andthis Oranmore, with the skill of a dramatist, had reserved for the fallof the curtain.
"He noted every sign in the judge's face, he guessed that his client wasnot yet absolutely safe, then only did he produce his last twowitnesses.
"One of them was Mary Sullivan, one of the housemaids in the Fitzwilliammansion. She had been sent up by the cook at a quarter past four o'clockon the afternoon of February 1st with some hot water, which the nursehad ordered, for the master's room. Just as she was about to knock atthe door Mr. Wethered was coming out of the room. Mary stopped with thetray in her hand, and at the door Mr. Wethered turned and said quiteloudly: 'Now, don't fret, don't be anxious; do try and be calm. Yourwill is safe in my pocket, nothing can change it or alter one word of itbut yourself.'
"It was, of course, a very ticklish point in law whether thehousemaid's evidence could be accepted. You see, she was quoting thewords of a man since dead, spoken to another man also dead. There is nodoubt that had there been very strong evidence on the other side againstPercival Brooks, Mary Sullivan's would have counted for nothing; but, asI told you before, the judge's belief in the prisoner's guilt wasalready very seriously shaken, and now the final blow aimed at it by Mr.Oranmore shattered his last lingering doubts.
"Dr. Mulligan, namely, had been placed by Mr. Oranmore into thewitness-box. He was a medical man of unimpeachable authority, in fact,absolutely at the head of his profession in Dublin. What he saidpractically corroborated Mary Sullivan's testimony. He had gone in tosee Mr. Brooks at half-past four, and understood from him that hislawyer had just left him.
"Mr. Brooks certainly, though terribly weak, was calm and more composed.He was dying from a sudden heart attack, and Dr. Mulligan foresaw thealmost immediate end. But he was still conscious and managed to murmurfeebly: 'I feel much easier in my mind now, doctor--have made mywill--Wethered has been--he's got it in his pocket--it is safethere--safe from that--' But the words died on his lips, and after thathe spoke but little. He saw his two sons before he died, but hardlyknew them or even looked at them.
"You see," concluded the man in the corner, "you see that theprosecution was bound to collapse. Oranmore did not give it a leg tostand on. The will was forged, it is true, forged in the favour ofPercival Brooks and of no one else, forged for him and for his benefit.Whether he knew and connived at the forgery was never proved or, as faras I know, even hinted, but it was impossible to go against all theevidence, which pointed that, as far as the act itself was concerned, heat least was innocent. You see, Dr. Mulligan's evidence was not to beshaken. Mary Sullivan's was equally strong.
"There were two witnesses swearing positively that old Brooks' will wasin Mr. Wethered's keeping when that gentleman left the Fitzwilliammansion at a quarter past four. At five o'clock in the afternoon thelawyer was found dead in Phoenix Park. Between a quarter past four andeight o'clock in the evening Percival Brooks never left the house--thatwas subsequently proved by Oranmore up to the hilt and beyond a doubt.Since the will found under old Brooks' pillow was a forged will, wherethen was the will he did make, and which Wethered carried away with himin his pocket?"
"Stolen, of course," said Polly, "by those who murdered and robbed him;it may have been of no value to them, but they naturally would destroyit, lest it might prove a clue against them."
"Then you think it was mere coincidence?" he asked excitedly.
"What?"
"That Wethered was murdered and robbed at the very moment that hecarried the will in his pocket, whilst another was being forged in itsplace?"
"It certainly would be very curious, if it _were_ a coincidence," shesaid musingly.
"Very," he repeated with biting sarcasm, whilst nervously his bonyfingers played with the inevitable bit of string. "Very curious indeed.Just think of the whole thing. There was the old man with all hiswealth, and two sons, one to whom he is devoted, and the other with whomhe does nothing but quarrel. One day there is another of these quarrels,but more violent, more terrible than any that have previously occurred,with the result that the father, heartbroken by it all, has an attack ofapoplexy and practically dies of a broken heart. After that he altershis will, and subsequently a will is proved which turns out to be aforgery.
"Now everybody--police, press, and public alike--at once jump to theconclusion that, as Percival Brooks benefits by that forged will,Percival Brooks must be the forger."
"Seek for him whom the crime benefits, is your own axiom," argued thegirl.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Percival Brooks benefited to the tune of L2,000,000."
"I beg your pardon. He did nothing of the sort. He was left with lessthan half the share that his younger brother inherited."
"Now, yes; but that was a former will and--"
"And that forged will was so clumsily executed, the signature socarelessly imitated, that the forgery was bound to come to light. Did_that_ never strike you?"
"Yes, but--"
"There is no but," he interrupted. "It was all as clear as daylight tome from the very first. The quarrel with the old man, which broke hisheart, was not with his eldest son, with whom he was used toquarrelling, but with the second son whom he idolised, in whom hebelieved. Don't you remember how John O'Neill heard the words 'liar' and'deceit'? Percival Brooks had never deceived his father. His sins wereall on the surface. Murray had led a quiet life, had pandered to hisfather, and
fawned upon him, until, like most hypocrites, he at last gotfound out. Who knows what ugly gambling debt or debt of honour, suddenlyrevealed to old Brooks, was the cause of that last and deadly quarrel?
"You remember that it was Percival who remained beside his father andcarried him up to his room. Where was Murray throughout that long andpainful day, when his father lay dying--he, the idolised son, the appleof the old man's eye? You never hear his name mentioned as being presentthere all that day. But he knew that he had offended his fathermortally, and that his father meant to cut him off with a shilling. Heknew that Mr. Wethered had been sent for, that Wethered left the housesoon after four o'clock.
"And here the cleverness of the man comes in. Having lain in wait forWethered and knocked him on the back of the head with a stick, he couldnot very well make that will disappear altogether. There remained thefaint chance of some other witnesses knowing that Mr. Brooks had made afresh will, Mr. Wethered's partner, his clerk, or one of theconfidential servants in the house. Therefore _a_ will must bediscovered after the old man's death.
"Now, Murray Brooks was not an expert forger, it takes years of trainingto become that. A forged will executed by himself would be sure to befound out--yes, that's it, sure to be found out. The forgery will bepalpable--let it be palpable, and then it will be found out, branded assuch, and the original will of 1891, so favourable to the youngblackguard's interests, would be held as valid. Was it devilry ormerely additional caution which prompted Murray to pen that forged willso glaringly in Percival's favour? It is impossible to say.
"Anyhow, it was the cleverest touch in that marvellously devised crime.To plan that evil deed was great, to execute it was easy enough. He hadseveral hours' leisure in which to do it. Then at night it wassimplicity itself to slip the document under the dead man's pillow.Sacrilege causes no shudder to such natures as Murray Brooks. The restof the drama you know already--"
"But Percival Brooks?"
"The jury returned a verdict of 'Not guilty.' There was no evidenceagainst him."
"But the money? Surely the scoundrel does not have the enjoyment of itstill?"
"No; he enjoyed it for a time, but he died, about three months ago, andforgot to take the precaution of making a will, so his brother Percivalhas got the business after all. If you ever go to Dublin, I should ordersome of Brooks' bacon if I were you. It is very good."