There were stains enough on it already, Joan said to herself, even if this last disgrace were removed. Walter Brooklyn was not guilty of murder, and had been, in this case, unjustly accused. But no amount of sympathy with him in his present misfortune could wipe out the recollection of what she had suffered while she had still felt it her duty to live with him. She had done her best to absolve him of the charge of murder, because she was fully assured of his innocence; but, that once accomplished, she desired to have no more to do with him. When, therefore, Thomas suggested that she should go at once to the prison and tell her stepfather the good news, while he and Ellery saw the police and endeavoured to make arrangements for his release, Joan refused and said that she would prefer Thomas to see his client himself. To the rest of the suggested programme she agreed, and Thomas at once got through on the phone to Superintendent Wilson, and arranged an immediate appointment. Joan and Ellery agreed with him that the best course was to tell the police the whole story at once, and, instead of waiting for the trial, to endeavour to secure Walter Brooklyn’s release as soon as the necessary formalities could be carried through.
Taking their witnesses with them, therefore, Joan, Ellery, and Thomas set out for Scotland Yard. There they left the witnesses in a waiting-room, and were at once shown in to the superintendent. Inspector Blaikie, who had been sent for when Thomas’s message was received, was also present, and the two police officers now heard from Joan and Ellery what they had done. The superintendent listened very quietly to their story, in one of his favourite attitudes, with his eyes closed most of the time, his legs thrust out before him, and his hands buried deep in his trousers pockets. The inspector once or twice tried to interrupt, and was at first obviously incredulous. But, before they had done, the strength of their case was evident, even to him, and the testimony of the witnesses, who were then called in and examined one by one, was quite conclusive in its cumulative effect. Walter Brooklyn had been seen by no less than seven persons, and it was quite inconceivable, in view of the times and places at which they had seen him, that he could have made his way into and out of Liskeard House and committed even a single murder, in the time available. The superintendent jotted down a list of the independent testimonies which went to the making of the alibi.
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10:15 or so. Shown out of Liskeard House by Winter.
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10:20 or so. Seen by porter at Piccadilly Theatre walking up Piccadilly towards the Circus.
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10:45. Seen in Leicester Square by Kitty Frensham and Horace Mandleham.
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11:20 or so. Seen in Piccadilly Circus by night-watchman.
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11:30 or so. Seen by taxi-driver near Liskeard Street in Piccadilly (exact time uncertain).
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11:35 (about). Seen, at time not precisely fixed, but it must have been at this time, by the Spaniard, leaning on the parapet and then walking along the top of Trafalgar Square.
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11:45. Seen by witness of unknown occupation at the top of Whitehall and followed by him up Cockspur Street and Regent Street, as far as the corner of Jermyn Street.
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12 midnight. Seen by night-porter entering the Byron Club (the porter is positive he did not go out again).
When the last witness had withdrawn the superintendent looked at his notes.
“What do you make of it now?” asked Thomas. The reply, unhesitatingly given, was that the alibi seemed to be conclusive.
“I admit,” said the superintendent, “that for a time we were barking up the wrong tree. There remain, of course, to be explained the telephone message and the presence of your client’s stick. I don’t say that we shan’t have to test even the alibi further—some of your witnesses are of rather doubtful character. But personally I admit that I have no doubt about it; indeed, quite apart from the alibi, I had already made up my mind on other grounds that your client was innocent. Your discoveries merely confirm my opinion.”
“Then you agree,” said Thomas, “that my client ought to be released.”
“Before you answer that question, sir,” put in Inspector Blaikie, “may I have a word? I admit that what we have just heard is very powerful testimony; but surely the telephone message proves that Mr. Brooklyn was in the house, and therefore that there is something wrong with the alibi. To say nothing of the stick. I hope you won’t agree to a release at least until there has been time to look into the matter further.”
The superintendent rose from his chair. “You will excuse us for a moment,” he said to the others, and he beckoned to the inspector to follow him into the adjoining room. “My dear inspector,” he said, when he had shut the door, “you will kindly leave me to manage this affair.”
The inspector replied, “Certainly, sir”; but he added, half to himself, “All the same, I believe he did it.”
“I shall order release—I mean I shall announce that the prosecution is withdrawn, and get the man released as soon as possible. To my mind the alibi is quite convincing. But, even apart from
