“So I suppose you wouldn’t mind having some sort of hold on him?”
The woman smiled.
“All right, I’ll give you some advice. If he hesitates at the altar this time tell him you’ve been asked to turn State’s evidence and remind him that it is difficult for wives to testify against their husbands. That’s all. Good-bye.”
Williams opened the door and stepped into the outer office.
“You will find your prisoner in my room, Sergeant,” he said to the waiting detective.
“Dan,” he called to the office boy, as the door closed upon the officer and his charge. “Ring up Mr. R. Castelez Forbes, and say I want to see him here at once.”
Ten minutes later Williams was retained by R. Castelez Forbes, and gave that gentleman some sound advice. The same day toward evening, Mrs. R. C. Forbes, née Halpin, and her husband, alias R. Castelez Forbes, started very privately for the West, and the City of New York was the richer in forfeited bail.
It is often difficult to differentiate between the accessory to a crime and the counsel defending the criminal. Williams, of course, might plead confidential communications, which certainly cover a multitude of sins. But I prefer to pardon him on the theory that all is fair in love and—well, law is a sort of civil war. Sometimes not even civil.
If this wasn’t a true story, I might report that Williams married a fine woman in every way worthy of him, and that Meyer as a reward for that day’s good work gave him all his business ever afterwards. But the facts are Williams never married, and Meyer refused to pay his fee. Whereupon Williams promptly sued him for the money, won the suit and collected every cent due him. That is the real reason why the old scamp respects him nowadays and gives him so much of his business.