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Prologue

NOVEMBER 19TH

The group round the fireplace was nearly all composed of lawyers or those who had an interest in the law There was Martin-dale the solicitor, Rufus Lord, KC, young Daniels who hadof other barristers, Mr Justice Cleaver, Lewis of Lewis and Trench and old Mr Treves Mr Treves was close on eighty, a very ripe and experienced eighty He was a member of a famous firm of solicitors, and the most famous member of that firm, he was said to know land and he was a specialist on criy

Unthinking people said Mr Treves ought to write his memoirs Mr Treves knew better He knew that he knew too much

Though he had long retired froland whose opinion was so respected by the members of his own fraternity Whenever his thin precise little voice was raised there was always a respectful silence

The conversation noas on the subject of a much talked of case which had finished that day at the Old Bailey It was a murder case and the prisoner had been acquitted The present co technical criticisms

The prosecution hadon one of its witnesses—old Depleach ought to have realized what an opening he was giving to the defence Young Arthur had irl’s evidence Benthtly put the matter in its correct perspective, but the irl Juries were funny—you never knehat they’d s and what they wouldn’t But let the to get it out again They believed that the girl was speaking the truth about the crowbar and that was that The medical evidence had been a bit above their heads All those long teron—damned bad witnesses, these scientific johnnies—always hemmed and hawed and couldn’t say yes or no to a plain question—always “in certain circuht take place”—and so on!

They talked themselves out, little by little, and as the re grew of so One head after another turned in the direction of Mr Treves For Mr Treves had as yet contributed nothing to the discussion Gradually it beca for a final word froue

Mr Treves, leaning back in his chair, was absent in the silence made him look up sharply

“Eh?” he said “What was that? You asked ?”

Young Lewis spoke

“We were talking, sir, about the Lamorne case”

He paused expectantly

“Yes, yes,” said Mr Treves “I was thinking of that”

There was a respectful hush

“But I’ fanciful Yes, fanciful Result of getting on in years, I suppose Atfanciful, if one likes”

“Yes, indeed, sir,” said young Lewis, but he looked puzzled

“I was thinking,” said Mr Treves, “not so h they were interesting—very interesting—if the verdict had gone the other way there would have been good grounds for appeal I rather think—but I won’t go into that noas thinking, as I say, not of the points of law but of the—well, of the people in the case”

Everybody looked rather astonished They had considered the people in the case only as regarding their credibility or otherwise as witnesses No one had even hazarded a speculation as to whether the prisoner had been guilty or as innocent as the court had pronounced him to be

“Huhtfully “Hus All kinds and sorts and sizes and shapes of ’eood many more without They’d come from all over the place, Lancashire, Scotland—that restaurant proprietor from Italy and that school teacher woht up and enether in a court of law in London on a grey Nove his little part The whole thing cul in a trial for murder”

He paused and gently beat a delicate tattoo on his knee

“I like a good detective story,” he said “But, you know, they begin in the wrong place! They begin with thebefore that—years before so certain people to a certain place at a certain time on a certain day Take that little maid servant’s evidence—if the kitchen one to the Lamornes and been the principal witness for the defence That Guiseppe Antonelli—coe with his brother for a month The brother is as blind as a bat He wouldn’t have seen what Guiseppe’s sharp eyes saw If the constable hadn’t been sweet on the cook at No 48, he wouldn’t have been late on his beat…”

He nodded his head gently:

“All converging towards a given spot…And then, when the ti towards zero…”

He repeated: “Towards zero…”

Then gave a quick little shudder

“You’re cold, sir, come nearer the fire”

“No, no,” said Mr Treves “Just sorave, as they say Well, well, Imy way homewards”

He gave an affable little nod and went slowly and precisely out of the room

There was a moment of dubious silence and then Rufus Lord, KC, re on

Sir William Cleaver said:

“An acute brain—a very acute brain—but Anno Domini tells in the end”

“Got a groggy heart, too,” said Lord “May drop down any minute, I believe”

“He takes pretty good care of hi Lewis

At thatinto his s Daimler It deposited him at a house in a quiet square A solicitous butler valet helped him off with his coat Mr Treves walked into his library where a coal fire was burning His bedroom lay beyond, for out of consideration for his heart he never went upstairs

He sat down in front of the fire and drew his letters towards him

Hison the fancy he had outlined at the Club

“Even now,” thought Mr Treves to himself, “some drama—so one of these ain noith an elderly gentle, unbeknownst to himself—towards zero…”

He slit ope

n an envelope and gazed down absently at the sheet he abstracted from it

Suddenly his expression changed He came back from romance to reality

“Dear ! Really, how very vexing After all these years! This will alter all my plans”

“OPEN THE DOOR AND HERE ARE THE PEOPLE”

January 11th

The htly and stifled a groan

The nurse in charge of the ward got up from her table and came down to him She shifted his pillows and moved him into a more comfortable position

Angus MacWhirter only gave a grunt by way of thanks

He was in a state of seething rebellion and bitterness

By this tiht to have been out of it all! Curse that da out of the cliff! Curse those officious sweethearts who braved the cold of a winter’s night to keep a tryst on the cliff edge

But for thee into the deep icy water, a brief struggle perhaps, and then oblivion—the end of a misused, useless, unprofitable life

And nohere was he? Lying ridiculously in a hospital bed with a broken shoulder and with the prospect of being hauled up in a police court for the cri to take his own life

Curse it, it was his own life, wasn’t it?

And if he had succeeded in the job, they would have buried him piously as of unsound mind!

Unsound mind, indeed! He’d never been saner! And to co that could be done by a man in his position

Completely down and out, with his health permanently affected, with a ho had left him for another man Without a job, without affection, without money, health or hope, surely to end it all was the only possible solution?

And now here he was in this ridiculous plight He would shortly be ad the coed to him and to him only—his life

He snorted with anger A wave of fever passed over him

The nurse was beside hiain

She was young, red-haired, with a kindly, rather vacant face

“Are you in much pain?”

“No, I’m not”

“I’ll give you so to make you sleep”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort”

“But—”

“Do you think I can’t bear a bit of pain and sleeplessness?”

She shtly superior way

“Doctor said you could have so”