“Then the paper was unfolded and placed before the witness.
“ ‘Now, Mr. O’Neill, will you tell me if that is your signature?’
“John looked at it for a moment; then he said: ‘Excuse me, sir,’ and produced a pair of spectacles which he carefully adjusted before he again examined the paper. Then he thoughtfully shook his head.
“ ‘It don’t look much like my writing, sir,’ he said at last. ‘That is to say,’ he added, by way of elucidating the matter, ‘it does look like my writing, but then I don’t think it is.’
“There was at that moment a look in Mr. Percival Brooks’ face,” continued the man in the corner quietly, “which then and there gave me the whole history of that quarrel, that illness of Mr. Brooks, of the will, aye! and of the murder of Patrick Wethered too.
“All I wondered at was how every one of those learned counsel on both sides did not get the clue just the same as I did, but went on arguing, speechifying, cross-examining for nearly a week, until they arrived at the one conclusion which was inevitable from the very first, namely, that the will was a forgery—a gross, clumsy, idiotic forgery, since both John O’Neill and Pat Mooney, the two witnesses, absolutely repudiated the signatures as their own. The only successful bit of caligraphy the forger had done was the signature of old Mr. Brooks.
“It was a very curious fact, and one which had undoubtedly aided the forger in accomplishing his work quickly, that Mr. Wethered the lawyer having, no doubt, realized that Mr. Brooks had not many moments in life to spare, had not drawn up the usual engrossed, magnificent document dear to the lawyer heart, but had used for his client’s will one of those regular printed forms which can be purchased at any stationer’s.
“Mr. Percival Brooks, of course, flatly denied the serious allegation brought against him. He admitted that the butler had brought him the document the morning after his father’s death, and that he certainly, on glancing at it, had been very much astonished to see that that document was his father’s will. Against that he declared that its contents did not astonish him in the slightest degree, that he himself knew of the testator’s intentions, but that he certainly thought his father had entrusted the will to the care of Mr. Wethered, who did all his business for him.
“ ‘I only very cursorily glanced at the signature,’ he concluded, speaking in a perfectly calm, clear voice; ‘you must understand that the thought of forgery was very far from my mind, and that my father’s signature is exceedingly well imitated, if, indeed, it is not his own, which I am not at all prepared to believe. As for the two witnesses’ signatures, I don’t think I had ever seen them before. I took the document to Messrs. Barkston and Maud, who had often done business for me before, and they assured me that the will was in perfect form and order.’
“Asked why he had not entrusted the will to his father’s solicitors, he replied:
“ ‘For the very simple reason that exactly half an hour before the will was placed in my hands, I had read that Mr. Patrick Wethered had been murdered the night before. Mr. Hibbert, the junior partner, was not personally known to me.’
“After that, for form’s sake, a good deal of expert evidence was heard on the subject of the dead man’s signature. But that was quite unanimous, and merely went to corroborate what had already been established beyond a doubt, namely, that the will dated February 1st, 1908, was a forgery, and probate of the will dated 1891 was therefore granted to Mr. Murray Brooks, the sole executor mentioned therein.”
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 his own innocence and unable to grasp the idea that justice does sometimes miscarry, Mr. Brooks, the son of the millionaire, himself still the possessor of a very large fortune under the former will, stood up in the dock on that memorable day in October, 1908, which still no doubt lives in the memory of his many friends.
“All the evidence with regard to Mr. Brooks’ last moments and the forged will was gone through over again. That will, it was the contention of the Crown, had been forged so entirely in favour of the accused, cutting out everyone else, that obviously no one but the beneficiary under that false 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 up against him by the Crown.
“At times he held brief consultations with Mr. Oranmore, who seemed as cool as a cucumber. Have you ever seen Oranmore in court? He is a character worthy of Dickens. His pronounced brogue, his fat, podgy, clean-shaven face, his not always immaculately clean large hands, have often delighted the caricaturist. As it very soon transpired during that memorable magisterial inquiry, he relied for a verdict in favour of his client upon two main points, and he had concentrated all his skill upon making these two points as telling as he possibly could.
“The first point was the question of time, John O’Neill, cross-examined by 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 into whose hands the accused had then immediately placed the will. Now, Mr. Barkston, a very well-known solicitor of King Street, declared positively that Mr. Percival Brooks was in
