CHAPTER XXIII
[THE TWO MEN]
Yet Mr Gilbert hesitated. He took his cigar from between his lips, carefully removed the ash, sipped at his coffee, and all the time kept his glance on Hugh Morice, as if he were desirous of gleaning from his face indications as to the exact line which his remarks should take. When he did speak he still continued to stare at his host.
"I have been retained to defend James Baker."
"James Baker?"
"The man who is to stand his trial for the murder in Cooper's Spinney."
"Oh, Jim Baker. Hereabouts he is known as Jim. When you spoke of him as James, for the moment I didn't know who you meant."
"This morning I saw him in Winchester Gaol."
"That is what you were doing in Winchester? Now I understand. How is he?"
"In a bad way. They may as well hang him as keep him jailed. He's not at home in there."
"So I should imagine. Jim Baker!"
Hugh Morice smiled sardonically, as if the idea of Jim Baker being in gaol was grimly humorous.
"That interview has resulted in placing me in a very curious quandary."
"I should imagine that interviews with your clients did occasionally have results of that kind."
"That's so; but I don't recall one which had just this result, and--I don't like it. That's why I've come to you."
"I don't see the sequitur. What have I to do with your quandaries?--that is, mind you, with your professional quandaries; because, outside your profession, as you're perfectly well aware, I'm willing enough to help you in any kind of a hole."
"This is both professional and unprofessional--that's the trouble. Anyhow, I'm going to make you my confidant, and I shall expect you to give me some sort of a pointer."
"What might you happen to be driving at? I take it that you don't credit me with the capacity to read between lines which are non-existent."
"I'll tell you in a sentence. James--or, as you call him--Jim Baker has left the impression on my mind that it was Miss Arnott, of Exham Park, who killed that man in Cooper's Spinney."
"The scoundrel!"
"Generally speaking, perhaps, in this particular instance--I doubt it."
"Do you mean to say that he formulated the charge in so many words?"
"He never formulated it at all. On the contrary, he didn't even begin to make it. I fancy that if you were to go to him now, he'd say that he never so much as hinted at anything of the sort. But all the same it was so present in his mind that it got into mine. I have a knack, occasionally, of studying my clients' minds rather than their words."
"My good sir, if A is charged with a crime he quite constantly--sometimes unconsciously--tries to shift the guilt on to B."
"As if I didn't know it! Talk sense! There are times when I am able to detect the real from the counterfeit, and this is one. I tell you that Jim Baker is convinced that Miss Arnott stabbed that man in the wood, and that, if he chose, he could advance substantial reasons for the faith that is in him."
"Good God! You--you shock me!"
"Are you sure I shock you?"
"What the devil do you mean by that? Look here, Gilbert, if you've come here to make yourself disagreeable you'll have to excuse me if I go to bed."
"My dear chap, why this sudden explosion! So far from wishing to make myself disagreeable my desire is all the other way; but you haven't yet let me explain to you the nature of the quandary I am in."
"I know Jim Baker better than you do. I've thrashed him within an inch of his life before to-day, and, by George! if what you say is true, I'd like to do it again. If you've come to retail any cock and bull stories emanating from that source I don't want to listen to them--that's plain."
"Perfectly plain. I've come to retail cock and bull stories emanating from no source. If you'll grant me thirty seconds I'll tell you what the trouble is. The trouble is that I've been retained by Miss Arnott to defend Jim Baker."
"The deuce!"
"Yes, as you observe, it is the deuce. She has behaved--in a pecuniary sense--very handsomely, and is apparently prepared--in that sense--to continue to behave very handsomely."
"Then where's the trouble if you're well paid for the work you're asked to do?"
"Supposing, for the sake of argument, that Miss Arnott is guilty, and that Jim Baker knows it, that, from one point of view, would be a sufficient reason why she should spend money like water in his defence, and I should be placed in a very awkward situation."
"Are you taking it for granted that what that blackguard says--"
"Baker has said nothing."
"That what he hints is true? Do you know Miss Arnott?"
"I don't; do you?"
"Of course, she's my neighbour."
"But you're some distance apart."
"Nothing as we count it in the country."
"Is she an old woman?"
"Old! She's a girl!"
"A girl? Oh! now I perceive that we are getting upon delicate ground."
"Gilbert, may I ask you to be extremely careful what you allow yourself to say."
"I will be--extremely careful. May I take it that you are of opinion that there is no foundation for what Jim Baker believes?"
"What on earth have I to do with what Jim Baker believes or with what he chooses to make you think he believes?"
"Precisely; I am not connecting you with his belief in any way whatever. What I am asking is, are you of opinion that he has no ground for his belief?"
"How should I know what ground he has or thinks he has? That fellow's mind--what he has of it--is like a rabbit warren, all twists and turns."
The speaker had risen from his chair. Possibly with some intention of showing that he did not find the theme a pleasant one, he had taken down a billiard cue. The lawyer watched him as he prepared to make a shot.
"Morice, do you know to what conclusion you are driving me?"
"I don't know, and I don't care. Come and have a game."
"Thank you, I don't mind. But first, I should like to tell you what that conclusion is. You are forcing me to think that Jim Baker's belief is yours."
Mr Morice did not make his shot. Instead, he stood up straight, gripping his cue almost as if he meant to use it as a weapon.
"Gilbert!"
"It's no use glaring at me like that. I'm impervious to threats. I've been the object of too many. Let me tell you something else. A faint suspicion, which I had before I came here, has become almost a certainty. I believe that Baker saw what that young woman did and I believe you saw her also."
"You hound! Damn you! I'd like to throw you out of the house!"
"Oh no, you wouldn't; that's only a momentary impulse. An instant's reflection will show you that this is a position in which the one thing wanted is common sense, and you've got plenty of common sense if you choose to give it a chance. Don't you see that we shall, all of us--Miss Arnott, Jim Baker, you and me--find ourselves in a very uncomfortable situation, if we don't arrive at some common understanding. If Jim Baker saw that girl committing murder, and if you saw her--"
"You have not the faintest right to make such a monstrous insinuation."
"I have invited contradiction and none has come."
"I do contradict you--utterly."
"What, exactly, do you contradict?"
"Everything you have said."
"To descend from the general to the particular. Do you say that you did not see what that girl did?"
"I decline to be cross-examined. I'm your host, sir, I'm not in the witness-box."
"No, but at a word from me you very soon will be. That's the point you keep on missing."
"Gilbert, I'll wring your neck!"
"Not you, if only because you know that it would make bad worse. It's no good your throwing things at me. I'm as fairly in a cleft stick as you are. If I throw up Jim Baker's case, Miss Arnott, who has sent me a cheque for £500, will naturally want to know why. What shall I tell her? I shall have to tell her something. If, on the other hand, I stick to Baker, my first and only duty will be towards him. I shall have to remember that his life is at stake, and leave no stone unturned to save it. But, being employed by Miss Arnott, I don't want to take advantage of that employment and of her money to charge her with the crime, nor do I want to have to put you into the witness-box to prove it. What I want to know is which course am I to follow? And to get that knowledge I've come to you. Now, you've got the whole thing in a nutshell."
Mr Morice, perhaps unconsciously, was still gripping the billiard cue as if it were a bludgeon. Plainly, he was ill at ease.
"I wish you'd been kept out of the affair. I'd have kept you out if I'd had a chance. I should have known you'd make yourself a nuisance."
"Having a clear perception of the lines on which I should be likely to make myself a nuisance, I see. Shall I tell you what I do wish? I'm inclined to wish that I'd been retained by Miss Arnott on her own account."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You will make me dot my i's. However, I'll dot them if you like. Here are two men who know the truth. Isn't it probable that there are other persons who suspect it? So far the affair's been bungled. Baker himself put the police on the wrong scent. They've followed it blindly. But when the right man's put on the job I'm prepared to wager that he'll find the whole air is full of the lady's name. Then she'll want assistance."
Hugh Morice returned the cue to its place with almost ostentatious precision, keeping his back towards his guest as he did so. Then, turning, he took up his stand before the fireplace. His manner had all at once become almost unnaturally calm.
"There are two or three points, Mr Gilbert, on which I should like to arrive at that understanding which you pretend to desiderate. When you suggest, as you do, that I have any guilty knowledge of the crime with which Jim Baker stands charged, you not only suggest what is wholly false, but you do so without the slightest shadow of an excuse, under circumstances which make your conduct peculiarly monstrous. I have no such knowledge. It, therefore, necessarily follows that I know nothing of Miss Arnott's alleged complicity in the matter. More, I believe from my heart that she had no more to do with it than you had; she is certainly as innocent as you are. You yourself admit that Baker has said nothing. I fancy you may have jumped at an erroneous conclusion; your fault is over-cleverness. I know him to be a thorough-paced coward and rascal. If he ever does say outright, anything of the nature you have hinted at, there will be no difficulty whatever in proving him to be a liar. Now, sir, have I given you all the information which you require?"
Mr Gilbert looked at the fresh cigar, which he had just lighted, with the first smile in which he had permitted himself to indulge during the course of the discussion.
"Then I am to defend Jim Baker and do my best for him?"
It was a second or two before Hugh Morice answered.
"I think that, feeling as you do, you had better withdraw from the case."
"And what shall I tell Miss Arnott?"
"You need tell her nothing. I will tell her all that is necessary."
"I see. I thought you would probably feel like that."
"For once in a way you thought correctly."
"The cheque shall be returned to her. Shall I return it through you?"
"I think that perhaps you had better."
"I think so also."
Mr Gilbert rose from his chair.
"Before I go to bed, with your permission, I will finish this excellent cigar upstairs, and I'm afraid that game of billiards will have to be postponed. Will you allow me to say, without prejudice, that if, later, Miss Arnott finds herself in need of legal aid I shall esteem myself fortunate to be allowed to render her any assistance in my power. I can make my presence felt in a certain kind of case, and this is going to be a very pretty one, though that mayn't be your feeling just now. I should like to add that I feel sure I could defend her much better than I could Jim Baker."
"There will not be the slightest necessity for you to do anything of the kind.".
"Of course not. I am merely putting a suppositious case. May I take it that you are the lady's friend?"
"You may."
"And that you would be willing to do her a service?"
"I would do her any service in my power."
"Then shall I tell you what is the best service you could do her?"
"I am listening."
"Start for the most inaccessible part of the globe you can think of at the very earliest opportunity, and stay there."
"Why should I do that?"
"Because if they can't find you, they can't put you in the witness-box, and, if I were acting for Miss Arnott, I would much rather, for her sake, that you kept out. Good-night, Mr Morice. I have to thank you for your generous hospitality."
When the solicitor was in his bedroom he said to himself.
"I'm glad I came. But what a tangle! Unless I err they'll have my lady under lock and key before the assizes begin; or, at anyrate, under police observation. And my host loves her. What a prospect? When a man, who is not a constitutional liar, does lie, he's apt to give his lie too artistic a finish; still, as an example of the lie cumulative and absolute, that lie of his was fair, very fair indeed."
Hugh Morice had his thoughts also.
"If she'd only let me know that she proposed to call in Ernest Gilbert I'd have stopped her somehow. There's no more dangerous man in England. Now it's too late. We shall have to face the music. If I am subpœnaed I'll go into the witness-box and swear I did it. She charged me with having done it. She shall go into the witness-box and give evidence against me. We'll dish Ernest Gilbert. 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend.' And she's my friend, since I love her. At anyrate, I'll be her friend, if the thing may be."