"Ah yes—the so-called evidence of the prosecution. Gentlemen of the Jury—what is it you are asked to believe from this evidence? I will tell you. That this man—a failure—penniless—unemployed—an unsuccessful applicant for dozens of jobs in all parts of the world—that this man kept in his possession a secret which any day, if he had disclosed it, would have made his pocket full and his name world-famous! ... No, gentlemen, the idea is too absurd. I suggest that this action is entirely malicious. I suggest that it is the plaintiff, and not his illustrious employer, who did the thieving. I suggest that while the plaintiff was in Karelsky's employ in Vienna he made copies of his employer's private records, and then, nearly a year later, when he read Karelsky's speech, realized the significance and the possible value of them.... It was a silly, futile scheme, my friends, but was it not the sort of one that a man of good education, crazed by failure and disappointment, might devise?"
"This is absolutely monstrous!" I protested. "Do you really mean that the truth could be so diabolically twisted round——"
"The truth," he interrupted cheerfully, "can always be diabolically twisted round, or how else would lawyers get their living? ... Mind you, I'm only telling you the particular twist that I should give it if I were handling the case.... As a matter of fact, there are one or two points in Terry's favour."
"You do think that?"
"Oh, yes. There's his breakdown in health, and the rather shabby way Karelsky treated him about his money—we should require evidence from your friend Mizzi about that.... And then there's Karelsky's general reputation, which isn't too high amongst the sort of people who don't believe all they read in the newspapers. And of course he's a Russian-born Jew naturalized an Austrian—that can always be made to sound rather terrible to a jury...."
"And the note-books and papers—wouldn't they count?"
"Undoubtedly, though we should have to be damned certain of every detail beforehand. For instance, how did Karelsky make the theft? Did he get hold of Terry's books and make copies? Or were there duplicates left behind in the Vienna laboratories? ... And also—a rather important matter—what exactly were the relations of Karelsky and Terry in Vienna? Supposing that Karelsky, when the action is tried, should say blandly: 'Oh, yes, it was this man who kept my records and looked after my mice and generally made himself useful. But he was under my supervision, and it is outrageous that he should claim credit for doing things that I expressly told him to do... What should we say to that, eh?"
"Surely we could bring witnesses to prove that Terry was an independent research-worker?"
"Could we? I doubt it. And, in any case, Karelsky could bring other witnesses to say he wasn't."
"The disgracefully low wages that Karelsky paid would show the jury what sort of a man he was."