My Friend's Enemy.

Evening Post, Volume XLVIII, Issue 66, 15 September 1894, Page 1 (Supplement)

My Friend's Enemy.

"lam as certain of your innocence, I repeated, warmly, " as of my own." But he Bat with a listless, hopeless look upon his /ace, and made no answer. " The thing is," I continued, "to prove it." " I caro very little whether it is proved or not," he said, wearily. Then, after a momentary pause, he added with sudden fierceness: — "As if I— as if J — who loved her so " His voico trailed off into a hoarse, sobbing whisper, and, covering his face with his hnndx, ho swayed himself to and fro in an agony of grief. I had known John Steele for upwards of fivo years, and had grown to lovo and admire the mail's earnest and gentle nature. When I first made his acquaintance, though J was not aware of it at the time, he was under tho shadow of a torrible suspicion. Ho had been charged with tho wilful murder of his wife, in circumstances which seemed to leavo very little doubt of his guilt; but tho evidence against him had failed, and he had been set ut liberty. Finding, however, that many still believed—as in such cases many believe — that he was guilty, and that the lack of proof only showed a want of vigilance on tho part of the police, he left his native town and came to London, where, a few months later, I became acquainted with him. He never alluded to his past, and, though he had been too proud to adopt an alias, his name was so common that it never once occurred to me to identify him with the notorious "Steele Mystery " that had pervaded the newspapers a short time before. Well, after he had been four years in London, ho married again — married a girl to whom it was easy to see he was passionately devoted. And now, one year after his marriage, his second wife had been murdered in precisely the same manner as his first. I was a young solu-itor, just commencing practice, and zealously undertook his defence, though even I was somewhat appalled 'when the story of his first wife's tragic and mysterious death was raked up against him, for I could adduce no evidence in his favour. He told me ho had left the City at six, and walked home to Clapham as usual, arriving there about seveu. He might have gone by train and arrived earlier, for all I could prove to tho contrary ; and, if he was guilty, he must have done so, for when tho doctor was fetched at ten minutes past seven he found the woman had been dead some twenty minutes before. Steele's own story was, that when he reached the house it was in darkness. Going into the parlour, which was ou the ground floor, he stumbled over something, and, striking a match, saw it was the dead body of his wife. lie had kept no servant, being a man of limited meant), so during his absence his wife was alone in tho house. The criminal, wfcoovor ho was, must have known this, and known, too, at what hour Steele reached home of an evoning. He had probibly gone to tho door, and entered 1 nmediately it was opened to him, taking .his victim unawares, aud forcing her holplesHly before him into the parlour, where ho had .shot hor, quitting tho house but shortly bat'ore Sfceolo cume in — perhaps even having timed himsolf so that .suspicion should fall upon the husband himself. But what man or fiend could have done it, aud whut was his motive P I was with my poor friend in his cell after ho had been remanded, doing my utmost to arouee him to a sense of his danger. " I know you loved her, Jack," 1 said, " aud she would wish you to clear yourself. For hor sake you must help me. Think ! Had you or she any enemy who——?" " No." he interrupted, dully, " none !" •" Is it posßiblo," I urged, quietly, "that the same hand has committed both these crimes — that you have some revengeful enemy who ?" " No," he cried, impatiently, "no !" Then, with a sudden start, he added :—: — "At least, there was somebody •" " yes," he rejoined, lapsing into his former lethargy; "but I told the police before, and they could not trace him. It went against me. They said I had concocted the story to divert suspicion from myself. They would say so again now, and, besides, he could have no reason for thi»." " But who is this man ?" I asked. And, little by little, I got the whole story from him. "We will say nothing to the police at present," I said at last ; " but that man must be found. His name is ?" " Don Jose Emanuel." "A Spaniard?" «Yes. 1 ' I wrote tho name in my pocket-book and went away, resolved to lose no time in commencing my search. If Don Jose was the criminal and still remained in London, he would certainly watch the newspapers closely ; and, therefore, after rejeoting many schemes, I resorted to an advertibement in all the London dailies : — WANTED immediately, clerk for coalingstation at Monte Video. No special experience. Knowledge of Spanish essential. Spaniard with knowledge of Engliih preferred. Address, &c. I used the name of an acquaintance, who arranged also to let me utilise his office for this purpose. . My hope was that the man I was seeking would 6CO tho advertisement, and think it a safe and profitable opportunity of getting .discreetly oat of the country before any .suspicion was »rfoot concerning him. Within the ne*t two days I received acorbS of replies, and weeded out a dozen from Spanish applicants, none of which, howover, was signed with the name I wanted ; but then tho man might have adopted an alias- . -, _ „ Steele pould not identify Don Jose s handwriting, and, having only met him twice, had no recollection of his appearance, except that he had a scar on his leJt cheek. Relying on this slender clue, J wrote to my twelve Spanish candidates, asking them to call upon me. One after the other they came next morning at their appointed time, and went ; and I was beginning to despair, when Carlos Cordeva was shown into the room. . He was a tall, swarthy man, witn a somewhat haughty bearing, and a keen, watchful look in his dark eyes. I put the customary questions as to references and former employment ; then, repeating a ruse I had adopted with all the others, as it afforded a better opportunity of scrutinising their faces, I eflked him to write down his name and address, as I h»d mislaid his letter. Standing by him while he waa writing, I scanned his left cheek narrowly, and could hardly conceal my excitement when I descried through his scanty whiskers a alight scar upon which no hair was growing. I dismissed him as casually as I could, and, directly ho was gone, cautiously followed him out. I kept him in sight until I was satisfied he was not going home, then hailed a hansom and droye to the address he had given. On being told he was out, I asked permission to write ft note for him, and the landlady obligingly showed me into his room, which opened on the hall. While she stood there watching mo, 1 could not profit by my success ; so I kept writing until she uneasily excused herself to go, to give an eye to some culinary operations, whioh I could smell were in pttarresß downstairs. . Tho moment I was alona J tried the drawers of tho table I was using, .and found only one of them lacked. A hasty search revealed nothing but unimportant papers bearing tho namo of Carlos Cordeva, uhUI from the back of one of them I drew out a revolver. A* cursory glance showed me that four of its six chambers were ■till loaded. I had no time for speculation, but thrust it into my pocket, and, hearing no 6ouad of tho landlady's approach, hastily crossed tho room to a row of books on a nmall cnpboaid by the fireplace. The fly-leave» of most of these gave me tho name of Garloa Cordeva ; but at last I found two bearing that of Jos6 jßmanuel, over dates just prior to fc»e first of the two murders. I stayed to investigate no furtner. Wnen the landlady returned, I handed her a note asking him to call on me at two on tho •flowing afternoon. I v* ent at once *° *k e detective who had „*.„__„ „ ' the case, and when he had heard *C an^ found tha two b » Uete taken to think my theory wot^ **£*&??'--. He met me next day. at > ,°««| J™ using, leaving an assistant, «* RWa aKB a clerk, in the outer room. „, "When he comes," I said, "I wu l °° Bossipping to you of this murder, and y»>u can £c if he betrays himself at all. « may lead to something that will help us. Punctually at two Don Carlos was shown tnto the room, and I was saying to the detective in a chatty manner as he entered : "lam interested, because I happen to know the prisoner personally, and 1 will tell yon he is perfectly innocent— l won t detain you a moment, signor. Will 70U sit down ? „- ■, "If he is innocent," returned the detective, " I should like to know who is *WteU you. The girl that Stjele married five years ago had been peateredby a disappointed lover, who, when he heard of her approaching marriage, threatened her with all sorts of mad and horrible JevenSs. He even called upon Stee c himself, atd dared him to marry the girl. He was a passionate, vindictive man , but ihoy treated his threats as jealous ravmgs an/ even before theywere jnarned he wani«*ed from the neighbourhood. ™ Avew Jater she was mysteriously^shot deadf Sd Buspfcion fdl.on the hnsband.

See, now ! When he marries again, exactly the same thinp i-> lept-uted. It is the rejected lover wreiiking his insatiable vengeance upon bin successful rival. "Each time he has no contrived it that suspicion haa fallen upon his rival ; but be fuiled to bring him to the gallows beforo, and now he will fail again." I ventured a side glance at my visitor. His face had gone grey and ghastly to the lipf, and his hands were clutched nervously, but he was desperately striving to maintain hid Helf-control. "You seem positive," remarked the detective. " I am, for I know who the scoundrel is, and whore ho is," 1 resumed. "He is a Spaniard. His name is Don Jose Emanuel." I could see the man start aud move uneasily, and could suppress my excitement no longer. " But," I added, with sudden haste, "ho goes by name of Don Carlos Cordeva, and that is the man !" I pointed at tho terrified villain, who sprang from the chair as if I had struck him. He dashed at the door, but it was locked ; the officer outside had seen to that the moment he entered. He turned swiftly, and a long knife glittered in his hand, but before he could stir a step the detective had him covered with his own revolver. He paused, and, his drawn features relaxing into a shuddering grin, snarled : — "Fool! I have walked into the trap. Curse you ! Twice I have brought him to shame, and near to the gallows, and now my revenge is almost complete " He suddenly seemed to remember himself, and stopped short in what he was saying. While he spoke I noticed the door behind him had been gradually, noiselessly opening. " I will sell my life dearly. Shoot, if you will," ho screamed, wildly; "better that than tho other." He whirled the knife above his head, and made a movement to spring upon us ; but at the same instant the door was wide open, two strong arms had seized him, and his weapon was dashed from his hand. There waa a mad, brief struggle, a click of handcuffs, and my friend's enemy lay a prisoner at my feet.