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“It is sufficient for my purpose at the present moment simply to indicate the fact that the seal, connected in such a peculiar manner with the previous outrages, was also a conspicuous object in this, and undoubtedly proved that the crime, if not the work of the same hand, emanated at any rate from the same source. The prisoner at the bar was the principal witness in the discovery of the murder of Mrs Inglewood, and gave evidence before the Coroner, when a verdict of wilful murder against some person unknown was returned. He professed, in the assistance which he then gave, to have been animated simply and solely by the desire to bring the offender to justice. Considerable doubt was entertained by the police with regard to the veracity of that statement, and I believe, my lord, it will be in my power to prove, by most conclusive evidence, that the prisoner then committed the crime of perjury in addition to the greater and more hideous one for which he stands here indicted.”

Counsel then paused and examined the first folio of his brief.

To my disordered imagination it seemed as if I already stood convicted.

Again the eminent Queen’s Counsel gave a preliminary cough, and resumed: —

“If I shall be in a position to establish beyond any shadow of doubt that the prisoner really committed the murder in Bloomsbury, the evidence which can be adduced against him in regard to a second count, which, however, is not on the present indictment, is even still more indubitable. On the night of March the fourth last, the body of a woman, which has never yet been identified, was discovered lying in a blind alley, called Angel Court, leading from Drury Lane. She was quite dead when discovered, having been stabbed in the throat, and on her breast, as in the previous tragedy, was a piece of paper from which the larger portion had evidently been roughly torn. The small piece adhering was pinned in exactly the same fashion as upon the deceased Mrs Inglewood, and no one could doubt that the murder which had been committed formed one of that series of horrifying outrages of which it formed the eighth.

“From that day till the present no clue whatever has been obtained as to the identity of the poor woman who was then discovered, but events have so conspired, and the police have been so vigilant, that a strange finale has been brought about. There is an old truism, gentlemen, that ‘Murder will out,’ and though that expression is worn almost threadbare by constant repetition, its force is recognised, and its truth is applicable as much now as ever. ‘Murder,’ in this case ‘did out,’ by a most fortuitous circumstance which I will briefly narrate, although the story has been freely circulated in the public Press.”

In a few terse sentences counsel explained my arrest, and the discovery of the seal in my wallet.

“Such, my lord,” he continued, “were the means by which the prisoner at the bar came into the hands of the police, and I would impress very strongly upon the jury, at this stage, the consideration that when charged at the police-station prisoner not only gave a fictitious name, but refused his address, besides giving as his excuse for his presence in the house on the night in question, a silly story which I venture to believe, you, gentlemen of the jury, will at once see to be outside the bounds of credibility. In the extraordinary explanations which the prisoner has given of his actions during the past year – strange and improbable – none so utterly feeble as these have been advanced. He asserts that his motive in going to the house in Angel Court, at that hour of the evening, was the altogether monstrous one of filching from a corpse evidence in connection – in close connection, I may say, gentlemen – with this very crime which we are now investigating.”

A murmur of surprise ran through the densely-packed Court. This was the first time my explanation had been made public.

“Incredible as it may seem,” said counsel, immediately resuming, “for the last twelve months he says he has been actively pursuing inquiries in regard to these crimes, and that his own life having, in some way which he will not at present disclose, been endangered, it has given him peculiar reason so to do. This story, of course, the jury will regard in any light they choose, but I rather think that when the evidence which I shall presently call is given, absolutely no credence will be placed upon it. My remarks will be brief at the present moment, but my learned friends who have been instructed for the defence, will, no doubt, seek to attach great importance to the personal character of the prisoner. Nevertheless I would ask what that character is? Two years ago this man, who used formerly, it is true, to occupy a position of some importance in journalism, became possessed of a fortune, and whether it be that the possession of so much wealth suddenly turned him into a monomaniac, or whether, previously to that time, his actions, of which we have, at present, no record, were characterised by this mad thirst for blood, I cannot inform you. Whatever things may have appeared to the outside world, there is no doubt in my mind that the prisoner has been cherishing a most intense and unnatural hatred against mankind, and that with the accession of wealth his means for executing his fell projects were correspondingly enhanced.

“It is true he bears the character of an English gentleman, but men of the world, such as I see before me in the jury box, are not to be deceived by mere detail of dress or conversation. The actions of men are the means by which they must be judged, and, looking upon the past life of this man by the lurid glare which the statements of the witnesses – and which his own actions themselves afford – it will be matter for surprise that his career has been allowed to go on so long unchecked. When he talks of his character, gentlemen, let me ask one question. In what was he engaged for nearly six months out of the last twelve? Perhaps my learned friend will answer this in his defence. The prisoner refuses, gentlemen, to give one word of explanation.”

Again there was a rustle in court, and the usher interposed with his stern command of “Silence?”

“Now, gentlemen, with these few brief observations, which I shall supplement later on, I will proceed to call my witnesses – persons whose veracity is unimpeachable – who will give you such an insight into his past life that will leave not the faintest suspicion of doubt in your minds that the prisoner at the bar has been the perpetrator of one, at least, of that string of almost unparalleled crimes which have shocked the whole of the civilised world.”

As the leading counsel, with a significant smile at the jury, resumed his seat, and his junior rose to call the witnesses, I folded my arms and waited.

Chapter Twenty Eight

The Clique

The two men first called did not interest me. They were the constables to whose evidence I had listened at the police court.

“Detective-Inspector Cronin,” exclaimed Mr Paget, when they had finished, and a tall, well-preserved, black-bearded man entered the witness-box and was sworn.

“I am John Cronin, detective inspector, Criminal Investigation Department,” said he, in answer to counsel. “The pocket-book which I produce was handed me on prisoner’s arrest, and upon examining it, I found it contained, amongst other things, a bill of the Charing Cross Hotel. I proceeded there, made inquiries, and ascertained that prisoner had been staying there one day, giving his name as Frank Burgoyne. I examined the room he occupied, and found a despatch box in which was the photograph I now produce. Comparing it with that of the woman murdered in Angel Court, taken after death, I find the features exactly coincide.”

“Was there any distinguishing mark?” asked his lordship.

“Yes, m’lord,” replied the detective handing up both photographs. “Your lordship will notice a small scar over the left eye.”

“You made other inquiries, I believe?” asked Mr Paget.

“Yes; on the following day I went to prisoner’s house, Elveham Dene, Northamptonshire, and searched the premises. On examining the drawers of a writing-table in the library, which were unlocked, I found two blank pieces of paper on which were seals corresponding in every particular to that found on the lady murdered in Bedford Place.”