“I will tell you, Miss Cowper, exactly why I asked the question. It is being stated that Mr. Brooklyn actually confessed his guilt to his solicitor, and that Mr. Thomas told a third person that he was guilty. I should not, of course, tell you this if I believed it to be true. Your answer quite satisfies me that it is based on a misunderstanding.”
“It is preposterous,” said Joan indignantly. “My stepfather told Mr. Thomas the absolute truth; but the man would not believe it, until we proved it to him.”
“That is just what I imagined, Miss Cowper. Thank you very much for speaking to me so frankly. It has saved a world of trouble. Let me assure you that no suspicion at all now rests on Mr. Brooklyn.”
“I should hope not,” said Joan. “But who put this abominable story about?”
“I cannot tell you that, Miss Cowper. But you may rest secure that no more will be heard of it. May I use your telephone for a moment on my way out?”
The permission was readily given, and, in the hall, the inspector stepped into the little closed lobby, in which the telephone was kept, and rang up Carter Woodman.
“Hallo, is that Mr. Woodman? Inspector Blaikie speaking. I have looked into that matter about which you spoke to me. About Walter Brooklyn, I mean—his having told Thomas that he was guilty. There’s nothing in it. No, nothing in it. You made a mistake. You must have misinterpreted what Thomas said. He did believe Mr. Brooklyn to be guilty, but Mr. Brooklyn never told him so. It was merely his personal opinion. What? Am I sure? Yes, quite certain. No, I have not seen Thomas; but I am sure all the same. Yes, I now regard Mr. Brooklyn’s innocence as quite established. Yes, quite certain. No doubt at all about it. We made a very natural mistake when we arrested him; but that’s all done with now. I think we are getting on the right track. Thanks all the same. You were quite right to tell me, though there proved to be nothing in it. Good-night.”
The inspector hung up the receiver, and went on his way.
Chapter XXVI.
Two Men Strike a Bargain
Walter Brooklyn dined alone in his rooms. As a rule, a single Club waiter would have been deputed to attend upon him; but this evening he noticed that no less than four found an excuse for coming to help. Each course was brought to table by a different hand; for the whole Club staff were curious to get a good look at the member who had been miraculously delivered from jail and the gallows. That very afternoon, when they had discussed the case, they had all been taking his guilt for granted, picturing him in his lonely cell devouring the skilly of adversity; and now here he was back again amongst them, eating an excellent dinner as if nothing out of the way had occurred. If Carter Woodman had been there to express his continued confidence that Walter Brooklyn was guilty, he would, despite the release, not have lacked supporters among the Club servants; for Walter Brooklyn was not an easy man to like, especially for his social inferiors. But this evening those who were most convinced of his guilt were also anxious to take part in waiting upon him. There is a thrill to be got by close personal contact with a real murderer.