The Betrayal of John Fordham

by B. L. Farjeon

I give the incidents in the consecutive order in which they occurred.

When Louis fell to the ground in the house in Rye Street, Maxwell and Morgan, believing him to be dead, stood transfixed with fear, appalled by the tragic termination to their plan of robbery. Jack had rushed from the room in terror, but this they scarcely noticed, so engrossed were they in fears for their own safety. What aroused them were the sounds of a desperate fight in the passage below—the fight that was going on between John Fordham and Jack. Their impression was that they had been watched, and that the police were upon them. If that were indeed the case, their peril could not have been greater, for, with the body of their victim on the ground, they would be caught red-handed. The conflict in the passage continued for several minutes, and it seemed as if one or more of the combatants were endeavoring to force their way upstairs. Suddenly there was a lull—they heard the thud of a fallen body, and then the violent slamming of the street door. Following that, a dead silence.

It was long before they could muster sufficient courage to go from the room to ascertain what had taken place. They took a light with them, and coming upon the body of a man, they stooped to see who it was.

"By God!" cried Maxwell. "It is my brother-in-law, John Fordham! How did he come here?" and then, "What a slice of luck!"

I can almost hear him utter these words as I write them down—and if he did not utter them he thought them, which I take it amounts to the same thing.

Quick as lightning he saw the opportunity of diverting suspicion from himself, and fixing the guilt upon an innocent man. Assisted by Morgan, to whom probably he disclosed his plan, he carried Fordham's body into the room, took the knife with which he had stabbed Louis, and put in its place the gold-digger's knife he found in Fordham's sheath, smearing it first with blood. Then he and Morgan removed every article which would draw suspicion upon themselves, and stole from the house to await the issue of events. Whether they kept watch upon the house to see what John Fordham would do—for they had ascertained that he had only been stunned by the fall, and was certain to soon recover his senses—or went away and returned after an interval, is not material. Sufficient that they did return—to find John Fordham flown, and Louis still lying on the ground in a state of insensibility, and apparently dead. But the wound he had received was not mortal, as we know. He became conscious while Maxwell and Morgan were quarreling. Morgan, it appears, was under the impression that Maxwell intended to cheat him of his share of the spoil, and he was insisting upon a fair division then and there. Maxwell refused, and a stormy scene ensued, of which Louis was a witness, though he did not dare to stir lest they should really make an end of him. From words, the two men came to blows, and Maxwell was heard to threaten to serve Morgan as he had served Louis. But Morgan, thoroughly enraged, was not to be intimidated, and a savage struggle ensued—ending in Maxwell dealing Morgan a death stroke with the knife with which he had stabbed Louis. In a paroxysm of fury he battered the face of the dead man and stamped upon it; and finally overturned the heavy table upon the body, and fled. Then Louis, fearful lest the murder would be fastened upon him, managed to rise and stumble from the house unobserved.

The violence of the storm, which was raging furiously without, favored him, and he succeeded in making his way to a common lodging-house, frequented by thieves and men of the worst character, to whom the sight of a man who had been engaged in a desperate fight was familiar. There he remained in hiding for a couple of days, by which time he was strong enough to leave Liverpool and take train to London, where he joined his mother and was nursed by her. Meanwhile Maxwell had also returned to London, devoured by anxiety, and by curiosity to ascertain what had become of John Fordham. After keeping quiet for a week he paid a visit to Louis' mother, and was astonished to see Louis in her house. As may be imagined he was not cordially received, for Louis had given his mother a true account of what had occurred.

At this juncture Maxwell's natural cunning—of which there are so many instances in John Fordham's Confession—came to his aid. He professed the greatest delight at Louis' escape, and the deepest regret that he had allowed his temper to master him in their dispute over cards. Concerning Morgan's death he pointed out that Louis' peril was no less than his own, and that, if the worst should happen, it was not he alone who would be accused of the murder. Naturally, he argued, Louis would throw the crime upon him, and naturally he would throw it upon Louis. It was a fair assumption that his story would be believed before Louis' because of the wound which the latter had received, which people would say was inflicted by Morgan while defending himself against the attack made upon him. These arguments were strong enough to show the dangerous position in which Louis stood in relation to the crime. Maxwell then went on to say that their safety lay in fixing the guilt upon John Fordham, and he related to them how that unfortunate man came to be entangled in the affair. The hatred they bore to John Fordham induced them to listen with avidity to the villainous proposal, and they hailed with pleasure the opportunity of being revenged upon him.

"He believes you to be dead," said Maxwell to Louis. "Let him rest in that belief. All you have to do is to keep quiet. If, as I suspect, he is in London, I will track him down. By Barbara's death a large sum of money has reverted to him. Let me but succeed in finding him, and I will bleed him of every shilling. You need not be seen; I will do the dirty work, and you shall share the plunder." The temptation was irresistible, and a peace was patched up between them. By what means Maxwell discovered John Fordham in hiding in London under an assumed name, and how he worked upon the unhappy man's feelings till the poor fellow was beggared, is fully explained by Fordham himself in his Confession.

Thus, step by step, was the whole mystery revealed. I had good reason to be satisfied with my work, though something still remained to be done.