CHAPTER III.
“Say, prisoner at the bar, are you or are you not guilty of the murder of Lord Westray?”
“Not guilty.”
The answer comes in a clear and distinct voice, a voice in which there is neither faltering nor evasion. It is a voice singularly rich and melodious, a voice which one would think could not readily lie.
A hum runs through the crowded court, an indescribable buzz and movement of excitement, but there is joy and relief on many a face, where hitherto doubt and perplexity had reigned.
The court is crowded to suffocation. All the well-known faces of the day are present. The rush to obtain admittance has been unprecedented, and the excitement and popular feeling in regard to the case is unparalleled in the annals of the law courts.
He stands there very quietly, but erect as a dart. His arms are folded on his chest, and his whole carriage is one of easy dignity. None, looking at the beautiful face, with its clear, radiant complexion, magnificent eyes, and high, pale, thoughtful brow, around which the old-gold curls lovingly cluster, could bring themselves to believe that that man is a murderer.
Yet, as we have seen, of crime so terrible Hector D’Estrange stands accused. Since that fearful night when, with murder in his eyes, he had burst into that room of ill fame, and found his beloved mother in the power and at the mercy of the man who had blighted her early life, and who had pursued her with such relentless vengeance, neither Hector D’Estrange nor society at large had seen Lord Westray. As we may remember, the former in that moment of horror and fury had been tried to the highest pitch. A shot had rung out through the silent house, followed by a loud cry, and that was all.
He stands accused not merely of murder, but of having secreted the body of his victim with intent to avoid detection. At the coroner’s inquest evidence had been forthcoming to show how, acting upon various anonymous communications received, the heir-at-law of the deceased had placed the matter in the hands of the police, who thereupon had discovered the body and clothes of Lord Westray buried deep in the ground at Mrs. de Lara’s residence near Windsor. Evidence had likewise been forthcoming to prove, that Hector D’Estrange was the last person seen in the company of Lord Westray, and the clothes of the murdered nobleman had been fully identified by his valet and others as those in which he was last seen alive. The body was, of course, past recognition. Two years in the earth would necessarily render it so; yet on the skeleton little finger of one hand a plain gold ring had been found, as also around the skeleton’s neck a gold chain and locket, the latter containing a faded portrait of the late Countess of Westray, the earl’s mother. It had been proved that Lord Westray always wore this ring, chain, and locket, and his valet had sworn that he was wearing them the very day on which he disappeared. Public opinion was perplexed. Even those who would glory in Hector D’Estrange’s innocence found it difficult to believe him so. Everything appeared so clear against him, so unanswerably conclusive, that men and women shook their heads and sighed when hopes of his acquittal were expressed. But the day of trial had come at last, and Hector D’Estrange was there to confront his accusers.
In face of the terrible charge preferred against their chief, the members of the Ministry have unconditionally resigned, and a provisional Government, pending an appeal to the country, has been hastily constructed from the National party. The Government of the day is therefore known to be rabidly antagonistic to the late revolutionary Prime Minister, who now stands accused of murder. The counsel retained for the prosecution by the Crown is the Attorney-General, aided and assisted by two Q.C.’s, but Hector D’Estrange has retained no one to aid him. He defends himself.
And now with a flourish and many theatrical attitudes, Sir Anthony Stickleback begins the case for the prosecution. Sir Anthony is fond of rhetoric, and he airs it to the court, fully to his own satisfaction. He has many long-winded phrases to get through before he closes with the main point, which may be briefly told in his closing summary of the statements contained in his opening address.
“I shall therefore, my lord, call witnesses who will speak to the evident intimacy which has existed between Mr. D’Estrange and Mrs. de Lara through so many years. These witnesses will be able to show moreover, that on several occasions Mrs. de Lara received visits from her late husband, Lord Westray, during Mr. D’Estrange’s absence; that she was frequently in the habit of mysteriously disappearing from her residence near Windsor on visits to London, and that on one of these occasions—the occasion, in fact, when Mr. D’Estrange followed her—she actually left a note for her maid, acquainting her with her departure. I shall show how Mr. D’Estrange, having surprised her in the company of Lord Westray, deliberately fired his revolver at that nobleman. The last thing seen of this latter unfortunate gentleman was in the company of Mr. D’Estrange, who had announced his intention of taking him to his home in Grosvenor Square. It is needless to say that from that day forward Lord Westray has never been seen in living life, though, in consequence of several anonymous communications received, private inquiry was set on foot by those who have been determined to bring the murderer to justice, and which has resulted in the discovery of the body and the clothes which Lord Westray was wearing when last seen, buried deep in the earth, in the private grounds near Windsor belonging to Mrs. de Lara. I will now, my lord, proceed to call the witnesses for the prosecution.”
And one by one the witnesses are brought forward to swear away the life of Hector D’Estrange.
Charles Weston deposes that he was for many years Mrs. de Lara’s butler, and that he frequently admitted Lord Westray to her house, but always in the absence of Mr. D’Estrange. Only on one occasion did Mr. D’Estrange come in while Lord Westray was in the house, and he recalls high words passing between the two, followed by the hasty departure of Lord Westray, whose brougham was awaiting him at Mrs. de Lara’s door. This was when she resided in London. After this Lord Westray always came on foot, and he, Weston, had strict orders to keep a sharp look out for Mr. D’Estrange, so as to give the two full warning. He remembers perfectly well bringing Mrs. de Lara a note from Lord Westray the very day on which she disappeared from her Windsor residence, and the same on which Lord Westray was murdered, and he also remembers a note being left that night by Mrs. de Lara for her maid.
Cross-examined by Hector D’Estrange. “Are you not a discharged servant of Mrs. de Lara’s, Weston?”
“No, sir,” answers this person with cool effrontery. “I gave notice myself.”
“You will swear, Weston, that Mrs. de Lara did not dismiss you for drunkenness and gross impertinence?”
“Certainly, sir. Mrs. de Lara told me I had had too much to drink, and I told her I would leave. I gave a month’s notice.”
“Thank you, Weston, I have no more to ask you.” Hector D’Estrange’s voice has a peculiar ring of unutterable contempt in it. The wretch winces as he receives the order to “stand down.”
Victoire Hester is next called. She deposes to being Mrs. de Lara’s late maid. She corroborates Charles Weston’s evidence. Asked if she remembers the writing paper used by Mrs. de Lara and Hector D’Estrange, “Perfectly,” is her reply.
“Can she select a specimen from amidst the packet of letters handed her?”
“Certainly,” she replies again.
In a few minutes she has picked out three letters all written in the same hand and on a similar stamp of paper.
“This,” she declares, “is the paper used by Mrs. de Lara and Mr. D’Estrange all the time that I have been in Mrs. de Lara’s service.”
Asked again if she recognises the handwriting on the letter, she unhesitatingly declares it to resemble Lord Westray’s. Asked if she received a note from Mrs. de Lara, acquainting her with her sudden departure for London the night of the murder, she answers, “Yes!”
Cross-examined by Hector D’Estrange.
“Victoire Hester, are you not engaged to Charles Weston, and were you not dismissed by Mrs. de Lara?”
“No, sir,” she unblushingly replies. “I gave notice same as Charles did, because Mrs. de Lara behaved so improperly to me.”
“Victoire Hester, you say that Mrs. de Lara left a note for you on the night of the supposed murder of Lord Westray, informing you she had gone to London?”
“Yes,” is the reply.
“But was she not in the habit of frequently going up to town in the same way without leaving notes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then how is it she should trouble to do what she had never done before, Victoire Hester?”
The maid is visibly flurried.
“I don’t know, sir,” she stammers.
“Thank you, Victoire.” The cold, calm, contemptuous voice comes again, and the maid in turn steps down.
Alfred Hawkins corroborates Charles Weston’s evidence, as to driving Lord Westray to Mrs. de Lara’s South Kensington residence on one occasion. He states that he was groom to the late lord, and is still so to his successor.
“I call for Mr. Trackem,” enunciates Sir Anthony Stickleback in an important voice, “since the accused does not wish to ask Alfred Hawkins any questions.”
Mr. Trackem enters the witness box. He is extremely well dressed, and has an air of importance about him. Like Sir Anthony, he has evidently a good opinion of himself.
“Mr. Trackem, you own a certain house in Verdegrease Crescent, do you not?” inquires Sir Anthony blandly.
“I do, sir,” answers Mr. Trackem.
“Have you or have you not admitted Mrs. de Lara to the house?”
“Frequently, sir,” answers that individual.
“Presumably for what purpose?”
“On each occasion, sir, to meet Lord Westray.”
“Do you, Mr. Trackem, know anything of Rita Vernon?” asks Sir Anthony.
“Certainly, sir. She used frequently to visit my house.”
“Will you name the last two occasions you have seen her, Mr. Trackem?”
“Well, sir, the first was on the night of the 20th of June, 1894, and the last on the night of Lord Westray’s murder,” answers Mr. Trackem.
“Was she with any one on those two occasions?”
“Yes, sir, each time with the same person.”
“And that person, Mr. Trackem, was?”
“The Duke of Ravensdale,” answers the scoundrel quickly.
A movement of intense surprise pervades the court.
“Will you describe to his lordship and the jury all you know about the terrible occurrence of which Lord Westray was the victim, Mr. Trackem?” commands Sir Anthony Stickleback, folding his arms.
“I will do my best, sir. On the afternoon of the day on which Lord Westray disappeared, I received a note from Mrs. de Lara, sent especially by Rita Vernon. In this note she instructed me to retain my house free for the night, and to admit no one but Lord Westray. I acted as requested, and she and his lordship arrived about half-past one. I retired to bed, there being no one in the house but two men-servants and a woman. The men, like myself, had retired to rest. Suddenly I was startled by hearing a shot, followed by a loud cry. I jumped out of bed, slipped into my trousers, and called my two men. We proceeded to the room in which were Lord Westray and Mrs. de Lara. On entering, we found it in possession of Mr. D’Estrange, the Duke of Ravensdale, and Rita Vernon. The two latter were beside Mrs. de Lara, who was lying on a sofa. Lord Westray was stretched out on the floor, blood issuing from a wound in the throat, and above him stood Mr. D’Estrange, with a discharged revolver in his hand.
“I at once rushed up to him, and accused him of attempting to murder Lord Westray. He replied that he was sorry for what he had done, but that he did it in a moment of passion. He declared that he did not think he had seriously hurt the earl, and that he would take him to his home if I would procure a cab. At the same time he begged the Duke of Ravensdale and Rita Vernon to take charge of Mrs. de Lara. I was getting seriously alarmed at the turn affairs had taken, and upon Lord Westray expressing a wish to get home, I acceded to Mr. D’Estrange’s request. Two cabs were procured. In one of them Mr. D’Estrange and Lord Westray took their departure, in the other Mrs. de Lara; the duke, and Rita Vernon. I saw them off from the door, and then re-entered the house. As I did so, I heard a groaning in a room on the right. I procured a light and opened the door, the key of which was turned in the lock. To my surprise I found my woman servant laid out on the ground, bound hand and foot with handkerchiefs, while a third gagged her mouth. I produce these handkerchiefs now. One has a ducal coronet on it, the other H. D’Estrange worked on it, and the third the name of Rita Vernon. Next day I received a letter, apparently in Lord Westray’s writing, begging me to keep strict silence on all that had occurred. He declared that if it leaked out his reputation would be lost, and he informed me that he intended disappearing for a couple of years, at the end of which he would return. He enclosed me some money, and promised to continue the donation quarterly, on condition of my silence. I received six donations in all, and three letters. At last the donations ceased, and I began to grow suspicious.”
“What first made you suspicious?”
“Well, sir, I noticed one day that the paper on which these letters were written was exactly similar to the quality used by Mrs. de Lara in her note to me on the afternoon of the day when the murder was committed, and I also thought Lord Westray’s continued absence after the time specified was suspicious. Finally, I went and made a clean breast of it to the present earl, who I found in receipt of various anonymous communications declaring the murder, and indicating where the body and clothes were concealed. He employed me to find out all I could. I set to work, sir, communicated with the police, and investigations were set on foot, with the result as we all know it.”
“Ah! you combine the work of a private detective with your other business, do you, Mr. Trackem?” inquires the Attorney-General graciously.
“I do, sir.”
Cross-examined by Hector D’Estrange.
“Have you the letter which you allege Mrs. de Lara wrote you?”
“The counsel for the prosecution has it, sir,” answers Mr. Trackem.
“Is it not a little strange you should have preserved that letter all these years, in view of the fact that you thought Lord Westray alive, and is it not a little strange that your communication to the new Lord Westray should have been almost simultaneous with the receipt by him of anonymous information?” pursues the accused.
It is Mr. Trackem’s turn to look confused, but he quickly pulls himself together as he answers, “No, I do not think so.”
Other witnesses are called to corroborate Mr. Trackem’s statement in some particulars, and to testify to the discovery of Lord Westray’s body and clothes, the latter being produced in court, this production causing much excitement.
Walter Long is next called. He identifies the chain, locket, and ring found on the skeleton as belonging to his late master, and he also identifies the clothes. He swears positively that Lord Westray was wearing all these things the day he disappeared.
“These, my lord,” declares Sir Anthony, “are the witnesses for the prosecution.”
And with this statement the Court adjourns for luncheon.
On reassembling, Hector D’Estrange opens the case for the defence.
“I shall not,” he observes quietly, “detain the Court at any length with my opening statement. I have been charged with undue intimacy with Mrs. de Lara. The charge is stupid and disgusting, and when I inform your lordship and the gentlemen of the jury that Mrs. de Lara is my mother, this will at once be evident, and show the groundlessness of the charge. I deny the statement that Lord Westray was a frequent and admitted visitor at my mother’s house, though he made many endeavours to be one. Only once he obtained ingress, and was ordered out both by Mrs. de Lara and myself. He has been the curse of my mother’s life. The sufferings of Lady Altai must be green in the memory of many, while the fate that befell my father at his hands is matter of history. I shall call Mrs. de Lara, who will deny having written either to Mr. Trackem or to her maid. She will explain how these so-called mysterious visits to London were solely to see her child. She will describe to you how it was her custom to walk out at night in her grounds at Windsor, and how on the evening of the day on which I am accused of murdering Lord Westray, she was set upon by two men, gagged, bound hand and foot, transferred to a carriage, and taken in it to London, where, at the house of Mr. Trackem, she was handed over to the mercy of Lord Westray, from whom God in His mercy enabled me to rescue her in time. This evidence will be corroborated by Rita Vernon, who will explain all she was eyewitness to. She will tell you how she clung to the back of the brougham which contained Mrs. de Lara all the way to London, and having taken note of the house—which, alas! she knew too well—hurried to Montragee House to apprise the Duke of Ravensdale, whom she knew to be my dear friend, of the terrible occurrence. There she happily found both him and myself, and we at once proceeded to my mother’s rescue. Effecting an entrance into the house, we gagged and bound the woman who let us in, and then, guided by Rita Vernon, stole noiselessly upstairs to what Rita styled the best room. On reaching the door she halted, and bade me listen to a voice, which I recognised as that of Lord Westray’s. Mad with fury, I dashed open the door—what to find? Why my mother, gagged and bound, a prisoner in the hands of the scoundrel who had wrecked and ruined her life. My lord, would not the sight have driven you mad? I drew my revolver, and shot him where he stood. He uttered a cry and fell. Quickly the duke and I cut the thongs that bound my mother. Her hands were cramped and saturated with blood, across both palms extending a ghastly gash. We carried her tenderly downstairs, procured a cab, and in Rita Vernon’s and the Duke of Ravensdale’s kind care she was transferred to Montragee House. I then went back to the room where Lord Westray was lying, where I found him alone with Mr. Trackem. I offered to call the police and state what had occurred. Lord Westray was seated on the sofa, and begged me not to do so. He declared the wound was nothing, and requested me to leave him, and on no account to disclose what had occurred. For my mother’s sake, and yet on another account, I agreed. Next day I called upon Mr. Trackem, who informed me of the letter he had received from Lord Westray, the contents of which he has communicated in his evidence to-day. I regret, however, to have to say that the greater part of the remainder of his evidence has been falsely given, why, I am at a loss to understand, as beyond the encounter in the house in Verdegrease Crescent, I had no quarrel with him whatsoever. I propose now to call my witnesses.”
Mrs. de Lara is called. Her appearance in court excites the greatest interest. For though few have seen the beautiful Lady Altai of former days, the story of her marriage, her flight with Harry Kintore, and the tragic sequel in which Lord Westray figured so prominently, is well known in Society. So this is Speranza de Lara, mother of Hector D’Estrange?
“No wonder he is handsome, with such a mother as that!” gasps Mrs. de Lacy Trevor. “Dodo dear, it’s the same lovely woman we met him riding with on the Burton Course long ago, at Melton, don’t you remember? The mystery’s cleared at last.”
She stops abruptly and stares at her friend, for Lady Manderton is scarcely heeding her, and there are large tears in her fine, handsome eyes.
“Why, what is the matter, Dodo?”
“Nothing, Vivi, nothing! There, don’t attract attention,” she answers hastily.
She is thinking though, how wasted has been her life. She has heard Hector D’Estrange’s statement, and believes it implicitly. She is thinking that others may not, though. If Hector D’Estrange is condemned, well, Dodo Manderton feels that she would die to save him.
