“It was on that point I wanted your advice. In the circumstances, and assuming that they remain unchanged, what can we do but deny the story and trust to a blustering counsel to get him off?”
“H’m, surely more than that is needed?”
“Certainly; but what more can be done, unless there is something else that Mr. Brooklyn can tell us?”
“Look here, Thomas. You can be quite frank with me. I’m quite sure Brooklyn was in the house and that he knows all about the murders, even if he didn’t actually commit them. But, like you, I want to get him off.”
“Can’t you help me to make him speak?”
“He doesn’t like me, and nothing I could say would have any influence. If he had been inclined to trust me, he would have sent for me in the first instance. You’ll have to make him talk somehow. But I can tell you what will weigh most heavily against him. He stands to gain a fortune by these murders—not by either of them singly, but by both together. It’s hard to get over a fact like that as well as the other evidence; the suggestion of motive is so clear—and, to put it bluntly, his personal character doesn’t help matters.”
“Do you happen to know whether Mr. Brooklyn was pressed for money?”
“He was always pressed for money, and just lately he has been even harder pressed than usual. He was round here on Tuesday trying all he could to get money from me, and he left me with the expressed intention of seeing Prinsep, and having another attempt to raise the wind through him. I know Prinsep was determined to refuse, and he wasn’t a man to refuse gently, either.”
“What you say makes me feel more than ever like throwing up the case. I’m not bound to go on if he won’t be frank with me.”
“Don’t throw it up. We must give the fellow every chance. It’s difficult for you, I know, but do the best you can. I expect your idea of a good hectoring counsel is the best that can be managed. After all, they have no direct evidence.”