In imagination, those who listened saw Roger Carling enter on his hasty quest—“Bear in mind the importance that he attached, and rightly attached, to those missing papers—an importance so tremendous that his own wedding, the bride who was awaiting him at the very altar, became secondary considerations!”—followed him as in the increasing gloom he dogged the footsteps of his victim, watched him pass swiftly through the shop, unperceived by the other persons there, a circumstance that sounded almost incredible until its possibility was demonstrated by the model and plans of the place, which were duly passed to the jury for examination. Then the fatal stab in that obscure corner, a deed premeditated, if only for a brief minute before hand, as the weapon (counsel held up that little tortoiseshell knife) must have been ready in his hand. It was the work of a moment; it was done not in the heat of passion, but coolly, deliberately; and as coolly and deliberately, having achieved his immediate purpose and regained possession of the papers, he thereupon not only effected his own escape for the time being, but, with a resource amazing in its ingenuity, instantly got rid of his incriminating booty, the recovered papers, in the one way that might, and as a matter of fact did, effect their safe return to Sir Robert Rawson, by posting them in the letter-box close at hand!
“Is it probable—nay, is it possible or even conceivable—that any other person than the prisoner, the one man in England who at that moment knew the contents and the inestimable importance of those documents, would have acted in such a manner?
“The reaction came, naturally and inevitably. The prisoner’s demeanour, the agitation he exhibited when eventually he arrived at the church where his bride awaited him, were precisely what might be expected in a man who had come straight from the perpetration of an appalling crime, as they were far in excess of the physical and mental distress that any ordinary individual would suffer through the accidental inconvenience and delay experienced in consequence of the fog.
“Finally, there was a sudden change of plans and of destination effected after the prisoner and his bride had actually started on their honeymoon. Why did he not take his bride to the hotel where rooms had already been booked for them? Because he had begun to realize what the consequence of his crime would be—feared that he would be arrested that very night, sought to gain time, a few hours, a few days.”
Cummings-Browne sprang up.
“I protest! There is a complete explanation of the change of plans which will be given in evidence.”
“My learned friend says the change of plans will be completely explained in the course of evidence. It will be for you, gentlemen of the jury, to decide on its significance when you have heard the explanation, as it will be your duty to weigh the whole of the evidence.”
Hour after hour through that day and the next the succession of witnesses gave their evidence, and were subjected to searching cross-examination and re-examination by the respective counsel. Those in court, and they were many, who were familiar with the methods of the famous counsel for the defence discerned from the first that Cummings-Browne was on his mettle, fighting for his client’s life against most desperate odds; for the great mass of evidence provided corroboration on nearly every point of the theory formulated by the prosecution; and in refutation of that theory there was practically nothing except Roger’s own simple, straightforward statement of his movements, and Grace’s pathetic testimony regarding their change of plan, for which she insisted that she alone was responsible.
One point which Cummings-Browne elicited was, that while it was practically certain that the murderer wore gloves—a fact indicated by the smears on the bag—Sadler, the taxi-driver, swore positively that Roger Carling was not wearing gloves when he left the taxi.