I object to anyone tampering with the witness“‘I object to anyone tampering with the witness’”
“‘I object to anyone tampering with the witness’”
“‘I object to anyone tampering with the witness’”
“No—no. She has a right to take counsel with her advisers on such a matter as a withdrawal of her claim. You mustn’t forget, Mr. Tempest, she has practically admitted there is some secret of hers mixed up in this matter. You yourself have suggested it is a secret that Sir John created this trust to obviate the disclosure of, and you have practically threatened the witness with a disclosure of her secret, if she continues her claim. She may well prefer toforfeit a just claim rather than have it disclosed; and, Mr. Tempest, I must remind you I shall not permit any disclosure of a matter which is entirely irrelevant to the issue for the mere purpose of harassing the witness.”
“As your lordship pleases. I could have hoped, my lord, that you would not have thought such a warning necessary to me.”
As Tempest finished speaking there was a momentary hush, and Clutch was heard to say, “I tell you he’s simply bluffing. He often does. Very likely it’s only waste-paper.”
A few whispered words passed between the solicitor and the K. C., and the latter rose, and said, “My client does not withdraw, my lord.”
Tempest calmly broke the remaining seals, and in the dead silence every eye watched him as he took the papers one byone from the packet and unfolded them. The first two were obviously Somerset House certificates. The next was a buff-coloured piece of tissue-paper—obviously the press-copy of a letter. With a cursory glance that also was laid aside. The last remaining paper was a letter which Tempest read through as the court waited. Refolding it he slipped the papers back into the parcel, and resumed his cross-examination.
“Lady Rellingham, I will ask you again, were not the letter and the other paper you produce given to Evangeline Stableford?”
“They were not.”
“How did they come into your possession?”
“Sir John gave them to me himself with his own hands.”
“Didn’t you take them from the dead body of Evangeline Stableford?”
“Don’t answer. I object to such a question, my lord,” said Mr. Barnett.
“I think you must take your answer, Mr. Tempest,” replied the judge.
“As your lordship pleases. What was your occupation, Lady Rellingham, at the time of your marriage?”
“I had a situation at a milliner’s.”
“Lady Rellingham, when did you go on the stage? Weren’t you on the stage when you married?”
And in a whisper the admission came.
“Now, wasn’t your stage name Eulalie Alvarez?”
“Yes.”
“And your sister Dorothy Manuel was Dolores Alvarez?”
“Yes.”
“Now, when your husband heard of your engagement to Lord Madeley, didn’t he object strongly and threaten to make your marriage to him public?”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t you tell him that you were about to have a child, and that it wouldn’t be possible for you to marry Lord Madeley, and that, taking advantage of Lord Madeley’s inexperience of women, you and your sister had arranged that, though Eulalie Alvarez was engaged to him, it was Dolores Alvarez who was going to go through the ceremony of marriage with Lord Madeley in the name of Eulalie Alvarez?”
“Yes.”
“So that, when Dolores Alvarez was found dead, Sir John Rellingham thought it was his wife who was dead, and troubled no more, and stopped the allowance. Isn’t that so?”
And without waiting for a reply Tempest went on:
“Now, then, are you Sarah Jane Manuel—Eulalie Alvarez—Lady Rellingham?or are you Dorothy Manuel—Dolores Alvarez—Lady Madeley?”
“I’m Lady Rellingham—Eulalie.”
“Then it was Lady Madeley—Dolores—who died, and you have been living all these years masquerading as Lady Madeley? Isn’t that so?”
There was no answer.
“That was the secret Sir John tried to protect for you?”
Again there was no answer.
“Now, once again I ask you: Was not the letter you have produced given to Evangeline Stableford, and wasn’t the trust created for her benefit?”
Tempest hesitated, and then sat down; but the witness had fainted. Barnett, K. C., rose, and remarked that he felt he had no alternative consistent with the dignity of his profession but to retire from the case, and his junior did the same. The judge adjourned, and the court slowly emptied.
With a grave face Tempest returned to his chambers.
Baxter and Marston joined him in the corridor, and the three men walked in silence across New Square.
“Come along in. I know a great deal more than you do, and I’m at my wits’ end what to do,” said the barrister. Handing his wig and gown to his clerk he lighted a cigarette, and backwards and forwards he paced along the narrow pathway across his carpet.
“I ought to have done it, but I simply couldn’t. Very few people in court could know all the facts. It’s simply a coincidence that all of them happen to have come into my hands. The chances can be only one in a thousand that such a thing could happen. The two Manuel girls were the two sisters Alvarez, and to-day Lady Rellingham has given the explanation of the whole thing. Do you remember the suicideof Dolores Alvarez twenty years ago?”
“Yes, I remember something of it. It was a nine days’ wonder at the time.”
“That’s Dolores,” said Tempest, as he pointed to the painted miniature over the mantelpiece. “I was in that case, and it has always puzzled me. You remember she was found dead in her flat—stark nude on the bed, and by the side an opened bottle of champagne, with prussic acid in the glass? The evidence was that her sister, Lady Madeley, called; that she sent her maid out; that the maid came back, found Lady Madeley gone, and her mistress at once sent her out again, and the maid came back to find the dead body of Dolores. The coroner’s verdict was suicide. Now, I’ve puzzled over that for twenty years. Then comes the death of Evangeline Stableford—the body found nude at the Charing Cross Hotel, and again the opened bottleof champagne and prussic acid; and then there was the utterly marvellous likeness between Dolores and Evangeline. But they could not be mother and daughter, for Dolores had never had a child, and I had always assumed Evangeline could not be the daughter of Lady Madeley, because she was born on the day Lord and Lady Madeley were married. It never dawned on me that the two sisters changed places.”
“But, even if they did, you can’t make it fit. Look here——”
“My dear Baxter, it does fit. They changed places, and then changed back again. I’d thought of the possibility of one change; it never dawned on me that there were two changes. This is what happened: Eulalie married Sir John, and keeps her marriage secret, and Sir John makes her an allowance. His father was alive then, and probably didn’t approve of actresses. Then she gets engagedto Lord Madeley, for I daresay Rellingham wasn’t much catch then. Now, she can’t marry Lord Madeley—that would be bigamy; and she’s just going to have a child, so she persuades her sister Dolores to go through the ceremony in her place and in her name; and I have no doubt whatever that the arrangement was that Eulalie was to take the place of Lady Madeley when the honey-moon was over. I knew Lord Madeley, and it would have been quite possible with him. He never noticed the difference between one woman and another.
“Now, Sir John Rellingham hears of the engagement and protests. Eulalie tells him of the expected child, and explains that it is her sister who is really to marry Lord Madeley, and that it was arranged that she would marry him in the name of Eulalie Alvarez. That being merely an assumed name, one sister has nogreater right to it than the other. So Sir John was content, for, of course, he wouldn’t be told the sisters intended to change places after the marriage. Well, the marriage does take place, and Eulalie’s child Evangeline is born and adopted by Lady Stableford. Then Lord and Lady Madeley come back from the honey-moon, and Eulalie, of course, wants her sister to stand down and carry out the arrangement they had come to. Dolores, who has found her feet, very naturally objects. Then she goes to tea with her sister. The maid sees the two sisters together, and is sent out on an errand. Eulalie poisons Dolores in the bedroom. The maid comes back, is told Lady Madeley has gone, and is at once sent out again. Then Eulalie strips the body of Dolores, and puts those clothes on. She leaves her own clothes in the bedroom, because she cannot dress the dead body in them. From that moment she becomesLady Madeley, and she leaves the flat before the maid returns. She bears Lord Madeley a child, the present Consuelo, Baroness Madeley. Lord Madeley dies. Lady Madeley has a small jointure, but she has a handsome allowance for the maintenance of Consuelo, and has the use of Madeley Manor. Consuelo will be of age in a year’s time, and Eulalie’s income would be reduced to her jointure. Consuelo, I hear, is engaged already, so there was no chance of staving off the drop to the jointure. Sir John, believing his wife was dead, later on marries again. Now Sir John, as time goes by, discovers that his first wife, whom he had thought was dead, is really alive, and masquerading as Lady Madeley. He ought to have shown her up at once, but he hesitates to do so, because not only does it lay his wife open to a charge of fraud and probable imprisonment, but it also bastardises Consuelo andcreates a huge scandal, and, moreover, it is a slur on the memory of his second wife, to whom he was very devoted. Added to all, it means that he himself has committed bigamy. So he lets things slide. Then Lady Stableford quarrels with Evangeline, and alters her will, and Sir John realises that somehow or other he must provide for his daughter. He therefore creates the secret trust, knowing that if he puts everything in your hands in that way he can trust his wife’s secret not to be revealed, if this can possibly be avoided; but he is so loyal that even to you he won’t reveal it, unless this becomes absolutely unavoidable. If he hadn’t been murdered, none of this would ever have come out. Then, knowing he was going to be operated upon whilst Evangeline was still a minor, he sends to Lady Madeley to come to his office, and he sends for Evangeline. He gives that paper and letter to Evangeline,but tells her she is not to use it if Lady Stableford provides for her. But if he himself dies before she comes of age, and if Lady Stableford does not provide for her, then she is to use it, unless, to obviate the risk of her secret being disclosed, Lady Madeley, her mother, prefers to make the necessary provision. He probably tells them in each other’s presence, so as to give each the hold on the other. But Lady Madeley, knowing she will be reduced to her jointure in a year or two, or else trying to avert the disclosure, or in temper, kills Sir John. I fancy it must have been a right down quarrel, and she probably killed him in temper, though the use of the revolver looks as if she had planned it out beforehand. It may have been that she was fond of Consuelo, and was willing to sacrifice anything to prevent her succession being interfered with or jeopardised. Sir John may have threatened her with disclosure,or she may have shot him to stop his speaking. Anyhow, she kills him, and then it dawns on her that she is at the mercy of Evangeline, who knows she has killed him. So she determines to murder Evangeline. She remembers that Dolores’ death was put down to suicide, and the nude body was used as an argument to suggest insanity. So she lays her plans, takes a room at Charing Cross Hotel, and entices Evangeline there, and poisons her. She takes away her clothes, to prevent or delay a discovery of the identity of the body, and to suggest insanity, forgetting all the time that at an hotel the absence of any clothes in the room would establish the complicity of another person. She finds the letter from Sir John in the pocket of Evangeline, and appropriates it. As soon as I had stated in court that the directions to your partners had been destroyed, she sees her chance, and, knowing her income will very shortly be reduced, and relyingon this letter, she brings the action against you three. As to the other paper, very likely Clutch & Holdem wrote that out, and were responsible for that part of the story. Now, that’s the whole explanation of everything.”
“Shall you tell the police, Tempest?”
“No, old man. I don’t hunt murderers for a living. The police read the papers. If they like to put two and two together, from what came out in court to-day, let them. It’s not my business or yours.”
“Would she be convicted?”
“I doubt it. I’m certain of what I’ve told you; but there’s too much deduction for a jury. A jury will only convict for murder on cold-drawn facts, and plenty of them. But that woman will save them the trouble. Unless they’ve arrested her already, I expect she’ll commit suicide before the morning. She’s shown up to the world—utterly discredited. She isn’t Lady Madeley, and consequently she hasn’t gotany income now. And she knows what the chances are, that she’ll be arrested for murder. You’ll see she won’t risk it.”
“Then Consuelo isn’t Lady Madeley either?”
“As it happens, she is, because I happen to know that her trustees very wisely got letters patent of confirmation when she succeeded. It only means that Billy Fitz Aylwyn succeeds to the old barony, whilst the girl gets a new peerage, dating from her patent.”
The next morning the daily papers announced that during the passage of the Dover-Calais boat a lady passenger had been missed. The unclaimed luggage left behind proved her to have been Eulalie, Lady Madeley.
Some six weeks later, Tempest received a letter:
“Dear Mr. Tempest,—In thinking things over quietly, I have come to the conclusion that you probably knew a great deal more than you made public at the trial. If I am right, I am grateful to you, though you left me no alternative but to leave England at once. If you will do one generous action, you will do another. Evangeline I never knew or cared about; Consuelo is and was the delight of my life. Will you, whatever happens, whatever comes out, please do everything that is possible for her? She has no one to guard her now, for, as an illegitimate child, she has not inherited the property, and so the trustees who have been acting are not really her trustees at all. Will you please do what you can to straighten out the tangle I have made? You will never hear of me again. I am going to Australia, to earn my living, and start again, if I can. If I cannot, then in reality I shall end it, as the world alreadythinks I have done. Please don’t try to find me.“Now, for the last time I sign myself by the name to which I have no right.—Yours,Eulalie Madeley.”
“Dear Mr. Tempest,—In thinking things over quietly, I have come to the conclusion that you probably knew a great deal more than you made public at the trial. If I am right, I am grateful to you, though you left me no alternative but to leave England at once. If you will do one generous action, you will do another. Evangeline I never knew or cared about; Consuelo is and was the delight of my life. Will you, whatever happens, whatever comes out, please do everything that is possible for her? She has no one to guard her now, for, as an illegitimate child, she has not inherited the property, and so the trustees who have been acting are not really her trustees at all. Will you please do what you can to straighten out the tangle I have made? You will never hear of me again. I am going to Australia, to earn my living, and start again, if I can. If I cannot, then in reality I shall end it, as the world alreadythinks I have done. Please don’t try to find me.
“Now, for the last time I sign myself by the name to which I have no right.—Yours,Eulalie Madeley.”
Sometimes things straighten themselves out without much outside interference. Billy Fitz Aylwyn preferred to waive his own claims in view of the realisation of his great desire. Let theTimestell the conclusion of the story.
“Fitz Aylwyn—Madeley.—On the 17th inst., at St. Peter’s, Eaton Square, Wilbraham Plantagenet de Bohun, only son of the late Sir Brabazon Fitz Aylwyn, G.C.B., to Consuelo, Baroness Madeley.”