The Betrayal of John Fordham

by B. L. Farjeon

PAUL GODFREY, PRIVATE DETECTIVE, CONTINUES HIS
NARRATIVE.

I did not doubt it. I believed every word that dropped from Jack's lips, and it set me thinking. The extraordinary turn which his disclosure had given to the Mystery opened up so many channels of conjecture, some of which would assuredly be misleading and likely to throw a man off the track, that I recognized the imperative necessity of proceeding with the utmost care. To avoid falling into a pit of confusion, system was no less necessary; the threads must be disentangled; Jack's statement and John Fordham's Confession must be studied and compared and discrepancies accounted for, not by the light of any extraordinary agency, but by that of common sense; and when all this was done the principal difficulties had yet to be encountered. There were many doors in the Mystery, two or three of which were now either quite or partially open; the others were locked, and it was for me to find the keys.

Partly for John Fordham's sake, and chiefly for the sake of Miss Cameron, I was elated by the discovery that it was not he who had killed his half-brother Louis. It gave me the greatest pleasure to think of the exquisite feeling of relief she would experience when I supplied her with proof of his innocence—sufficient for her and for me, but not sufficient, perhaps, in a legal sense. Considering the feelings I entertained for Ellen Cameron, it may appear strange that I should have become so zealous in the cause of the man who had supplanted me, but there is nothing in the world so enthralling as the gradual unfolding of a mystery such as this; there is no task so absorbing as that of following it up step by step, and of at length piercing the darkness which at first seemed impenetrable. There are higher callings than mine, but I doubt if there are any more interesting; and if you think it is one which does not demand fine powers of reasoning, as well as the exercise of physical courage, you are greatly mistaken. As for the hold it has upon the public, there is no question about that. It is easily to be accounted for. If a simple puzzle which is sold in the streets for a penny will interest thousands of 'people, how much more so will a puzzle so intricate and mysterious upon the unraveling of which the lives and happiness of human beings depend? You may run us down as much as you like (I have just been reading something of the kind), but you can't do without us, and will never be able to; and without us, many and many a wrong would never be righted. And after all, what are your finest lawyers, and judges, and Lord Chief Justices but a superior kind of detective? There are black sheep among us, and there are black sheep among them. There are black sheep everywhere. So, having had my say, I will go on with my story.

To my mind, nothing was more natural than the encounter between John Fordham and Jack, nothing more natural than the instantaneous conclusions drawn by the combatants—Jack believing his antagonist to be an officer of the law, and Fordham believing his to be a ruffian, bent upon robbery or murder. In many respects Jack's disclosures corroborated the account written by Fordham, but there were important gaps that required to be filled in. Jack did not admit any lapses of memory; he went straight on from beginning to end without hesitation. Fordham was less confident, and his admission of a failure of memory at a vital point of his story would lead to the presumption that his memory was not to be depended upon in other points. Whether judge and jury would accept Jack's evidence with as much faith as I did remained to be seen. He was a tainted witness, and an accessory to the fact of the murder. Then, again, I had pledged myself that he should not be harmed. If he were brought forward in the present position of the case he would certainly come to grief. For a time, therefore, he must be kept in the background. Only through the principal being charged with the crime could he be accepted as Queen's evidence, and even then his statements would require corroboration. Morgan could corroborate them, but would he, being himself in danger? And before Morgan could be produced, he had to be found. Maxwell, also. It was not likely that either of them would present himself of his own accord. Well, they must be hunted down.

Before I left Jack I questioned him upon various matters, testing him, as it were, and putting him in the witness-box. There was one statement especially which emphatically needed confirmation or refutation, and this I did not introduce till the end. There was no prevarication in his answers; his description of Louis' personal appearance, with the scar on his forehead which flushed and reddened when he was excited, tallied with that given by Fordham, and he adhered unflinchingly to his account of the last scene of the tragedy. A few of my questions were such as would be put to him in the witness-box under the fire of cross-examination.

"You say your back was turned during the altercation between Louis and Maxwell?"

"Yes."

"And Morgan's also?"

"Yes."

"You heard them threaten each other!"