Chapter XXIII.
Walter Brooklyn Goes Free
The business transacted at Thomas’s office that morning was protracted; but the result of it was never in doubt. Thomas had before long to admit that he had been suspecting an innocent man, and that man his own client. At first he was inclined to be incredulous; but, when witness after witness was produced, he had to admit absolutely that Joan and Ellery had proved their case. The testimony of one, or even two, witnesses might have been doubted; but the cumulative effect of the evidence, given by the old night-watchman, Kitty Frensham, and Horace Mandleham, and the men whom “the Spaniard” had found, was irresistible. It was true that the evidence of the stick and the telephone message which Walter Brooklyn was supposed to have sent were unaffected by the case which Joan and Ellery had prepared; but Thomas, though he knew nothing of Superintendent Wilson’s new view of the case, agreed that any charge based on these would certainly collapse in face of a conclusive alibi. Thomas confidently stated that it was only a matter of a short time before Walter Brooklyn would be released “without a stain on his character.”
There were stains enough on it already, Joan said to herself, even if this last disgrace were removed. Walter Brooklyn was not guilty of murder, and had been, in this case, unjustly accused. But no amount of sympathy with him in his present misfortune could wipe out the recollection of what she had suffered while she had still felt it her duty to live with him. She had done her best to absolve him of the charge of murder, because she was fully assured of his innocence; but, that once accomplished, she desired to have no more to do with him. When, therefore, Thomas suggested that she should go at once to the prison and tell her stepfather the good news, while he and Ellery saw the police and endeavoured to make arrangements for his release, Joan refused and said that she would prefer Thomas to see his client himself. To the rest of the suggested programme she agreed, and Thomas at once got through on the ’phone to Superintendent Wilson, and arranged an immediate appointment. Joan and Ellery agreed with him that the best course was to tell the police the whole story at once, and, instead of waiting for the trial, to endeavour to secure Walter Brooklyn’s release as soon as the necessary formalities could be carried through.
Taking their witnesses with them, therefore, Joan, Ellery, and Thomas set out for Scotland Yard. There they left the witnesses in a waiting-room, and were at once shown in to the superintendent. Inspector Blaikie, who had been sent for when Thomas’s message was received, was also present, and the two police officers now heard from Joan and Ellery what they had done. The superintendent listened very quietly to their story, in one of his favourite attitudes, with his eyes closed most of the time, his legs thrust out before him, and his hands buried deep in his trousers pockets. The inspector once or twice tried to interrupt, and was at first obviously incredulous. But, before they had done, the strength of their case was evident, even to him, and the testimony of the witnesses, who were then called in and examined one by one, was quite conclusive in its cumulative effect. Walter Brooklyn had been seen by no less than seven persons, and it was quite inconceivable, in view of the times and places at which they had seen him, that he could have made his way into and out of Liskeard House and committed even a single murder, in the time available. The superintendent jotted down a list of the independent testimonies which went to the making of the alibi.
10.15 or so. Shown out of Liskeard House by Winter.
10.20 or so. Seen by porter at Piccadilly Theatre walking up Piccadilly towards the Circus.
10.45. Seen in Leicester Square by Kitty Frensham and Horace Mandleham.
11.20 or so. Seen in Piccadilly Circus by night-watchman.
11.30 or so. Seen by taxi-driver near Liskeard Street in Piccadilly (exact time uncertain).
11.35 (about). Seen, at time not precisely fixed, but it must have been at this time, by “the Spaniard,” leaning on the parapet and then walking along the top of Trafalgar Square.