BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10124, 6 May 1896, Page 3

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM

BY B. L. FARJEON, Author of No. 119, Groat Porter Square,"" Gdf-," "The March of Fate," "For the Defence," "Aaron the Jew," etc.

[Au Bights reserved.) PART 11. chapte"r XXIX. RELATED BY PAOX GODFREY, PKIVATB DETECTIVE. It is nob often that a private detective - that is my occupation, and I am not ashamed of it—takes up a case for love, but thab is what I did when 1 took up the great Rye-street Murder. I don't deny that professional pride had something to do with it, for any man would have been proud to be omployed in putting together the pieces of so celebrated a mystery. It was love that gave me the command, and that is nob the least curious part of an

affair which filled the newspapers for weeks, and puzzled the cloverost heads in Scotland Yard. Tho way of it was this. A few

years ago business took me to Swaonege, whore I mot Miss Cameron, her Christian name Ellen. She and her mother (since dead) had gone there for Mrs. Cameron's health. I was, and still am. a bachelor, and I fell in lovo with Miss Cameron. 1 proposed and was not accepted, and I left Swannage a sadder, bub I can't say a wiser man. Proverbs and popular sayings don't always apply. In such circumstances some men aro angry; others pretended not to care, and say there nro as good fish in tho sea as ever, came out of it. Others are sorry for a weok ■ or so, and then see another girl who take 3 their fancy. It was not the case with me. I knew I had lost a prize, and that it would be a long while before I got over it. Botween you and me I don't think I have got over it to this day, and that, perhaps, is a thing I ought nob to say. It is down, howovor, and thero it shall remain. Before I bado Miss Cameron good-bye in Swannngo I couldn't help saying that if it was ever in my power to serve her I would do so willingly. I hadn't the least idoa that I should cvor be called upon, and I should have called the man a fool who said, " One of these days, you will find yourself engaged in a murdor case that has set all tho country ringing, and in which the happiness of tho woman you love is at stake." Clovor writers say it is the unoxpejtcd that always happens. It happened tome. On tho morning of my introduction into the naso I was sitting in my ollico, idling away my time. I had nothing particular to do, and was waiting for something to turn up in tho way of business, It seemed as if I should not have long to wait, for my clerk came in and said that a lady wished to see me. I brisked up. • Ladies don't come to a private detective for nothing. " Divorce" case, thought 1. " What namo?" I asked. " Name of Cameron," my clerk answerod. " Lady didn't have a card." I jumped up, all my norves tingling, and told tho lad to show tho lady in, I didn't wait for him to do it, though ; I pushed past him, and there stood Ellen Cameron, the woman I loved and had never forgotten. I hold out my hand with a smile, and she took it with a sigh. Hor sad face showed that she was in trouble; her lips quivered as she asked whether I could give her a few minutes of my time, and hor band was cold as ice. " If anyone calls," I said to my clerk, " 1 am busy." And I led Miss Cameron to my private room. " You want my advice," I said, drawing a chair up to tho table; "sit down and tell Ime all about it. How did you find mo out?" I

" I saw your advertisement in the paper," she answered; " and I thought you would bo willing to assist me." The newspaper in which I advertise twice a week was on tho table.

" Yon thought right," I said, mid would have said mora if T hud not obsorvod that her ej'o3 were fixed with fear upon (.ho newspaper. I looked over her shoulder, and saw that she was u'uztnt; upon « paragraph headed, "The Rye street Murder." It will clear tho ground if I give the substance of this paragraph, which I had ulready read with groat intorost. On the previous evoning John Fordlmm presented himsolf at the Mnrytobono Police Court, and had charged himself with the murder, stating that the murdered man was his half-brother, that the name (up till then unknown) was Louis Fordhum, and that ha had aclod in self-defence. Accord-

inp to hi? tale, this John Fordham landed in Liverpool from an Australian vessol on tho night of a great snowstorm, and being anxious to get to London without delay, wag walking to the Lime street Station to catch a train. Passing through RyG-stroot, iv mini ru.-hei-l out of a liod.su and attacked him. A desperate struggle ensued, in tho courso of which ho was drugged into a house and up the ."lairs into a room on tho first floor, whore he fell down in a state of iiiiooiieoioui<nes«. When ho cauio to his senses he saw tho body of tho man by whom ho had been attacked, and was horrified by the discovery that it was his half-brother, Louis Fordharr.. Distracted, and scarcely knowing what he was about, ho left the house and took a morning train to London, where, living under an assumed namo, he had been in hiding over since, lie made no disclosure of the motive which had induced him to give himself up after this lapse of time. His statemoub was taken down by the inspector, who, of course, asked him no question*. This was the bare story, and I attached no credence to it, having inado up my mind at once that John Fordham was guilty, and that ho had been driven by remorse to take tho lust step. " What will bo done to him?" askod Miss

Cameron, in a trembling voice, pointing to the paragraph. Surprisod at the question, I drew the newspaper away, saying it was of no importance what becamo of this John Fordham, and that sho had bettor proceed to the business she had called upon. " But what will become of him?" she asked again. I shrugged my shoulders, and to satisfy her said he would be brought up at the police court, and would be remanded. "And then?" " He will be remanded two or three times to onable tho police to make inquiries, after which ho will bo committed for trial." "And acquitted 1" she exclaimed, clasping hor hands, and with such an appealing look in her eyes—as though I wore the I judge who was trying the man—that I held my breath am' made no reply. ;'The suspicion that flashed upon me—that Bhe had come to ask my assistance in this very murder-staggored mo; but I steadied myself, and enquired if it really was tho case. "Yes," sho answered. "you believe him guilty?" " From what is stated here I can come to no other conclusion." At this sho fairly broke down, and I sat staring opon mouthed at her tears and misery. Dropping her veil over her face she tottered to the door, and was about to loave when I stopped her. v " No, Miss Cameron," I said ; " you mult not go away like that. You have come to ask my assistance, and I will give it you. There may. bo some mystery hero which needs, unravelling.' I place myself honestly and unreservedly nt your service But you must ho absolutely frank with me; to enable mo to servo you nothing must be concoaled -understand, nothing. Let me confess, though the stronger reason for this offer was to be found in the interest I took in Miss, Cameron, in my sympathy for her, that I was urged thereto by a less powerful motive. My professional pride was aroused by the suggestion of a mystery which 1 inifthb be the means of bringing to light. To a man like myself, nothing more attractive could present itself. Sho turnod to me with a, gasp of thank, fulness. " I will conceal nothing," she said. " Yon will condemn mo, perhaps, but I must not allow that to stand ill the way. There is no other man I can trust, there is no other man that can serve,.me, there is uo othor man who can prove John Fordham to be innocent of the crime of which he accuses himself." . " You believe him to be innocout?" "To believe him otherwise would be to lose my faith in the goodness Of God. This will explain all, When you have road it you will know what Jjhn Fordham is to me, i ''and whether thereis any chance of proving

[ his innocence. You have used the word " mystery.' Thore is a mystery here which only a man in your profession can solve, which only a true friend would take the trouble to solve. How thankful, how thankful I am that I came to you!" She took a large packet from beneath her mantle, and placed it in my hands; then,Riving me her address, and saying she would always be at home, or would call upon me at any time I might appoint, alio left me to the perusal of the manuscript But I did not apply myself to it immediately, beyond glancing at the opening words.. ! Thinking I might be in time to see John Fordham brought up at the pohco court I posted off to Marylebone, and there I found the case proceeding. Ford ham was in the dock, a pale worn man, with an expression on his face of one who had

undergone much suffering. Ho looked like a gentleman, bub I did nob allow that to influence me, for I pub no trust in appearances. There are men standing high in public esteem whoso faces would condemn them if.they were charged with a criminal offenco ; and guilt itself too often wears the aspect of innocence. Asked if he had anything to say,Fordham replied that he hoped to be able on his trial to make a statement whiolf would be accepted in extenuation of his crime; until that time arrived he would be silent, but if he could assist the police in any way, ho was ready to do so. This unusual reply awoke within me a stronger intcrost in him, and I studied his features carefully ; there was stamped upon them the expression of a man who had preparod himself for the worst. The police asked for a remand, which was granted, and he was taken back to the cells. As I issued from the court a cab drovo up, and Miss Cameron alighted; she had taken a four-wheeler, and was too late tor this preliminary examination. I hastened to her and told her what had taken place. "Shall I be allowed to see him?" she asked. ] said thoro would be no difficulty, but that it would bo best to consult a solicitor. She mentioned the name of one who had acted for Fordham for several yoars, and I advised her to go to him. Slio thanked me and drovo off, and I returned to my office to road "John Fordham's Confession."

If I were to attempt to describe at any length tho impression it produced upon mo I should fail, lam very fond of fiction, and

I have road most of the leading novels of my time, but I doubt if I have ever read anything in which a man's trials and sorrows were more powerfully portrayed. I do not speak in a literary sense, for in that respect I am a poor judge, but the effect of this Confession upon me was startling. I seemed to eoe tho man's heart and soul, and sometimes 1 lost sight of tho fact that I was perusing a story of real life. Tho kind allusion to myself and the thoughtful suppression of my name affected mo strongly, John Fordham's description of tho character of Ellen Cameron showed me what a troasuro I had lost. But I should have been ndespicnblo fellow to bear him any anim-'ity for having won the love I sought, and 1 thought none the worse of him or Ellon Cainoron for having thrown their lots together. So much for my private feelings and for the small p»rt I had played in Miss Cameron's life. I set thorn asi-'.D entirely, and threw myself heart and soul into the mystery which surroundodtne murder. It was plain enough to me that the Confession was worthless as evidonce; a clever writer might have invented and written it for the purpose of exculpating himself, mid by Fordham's own admission he was a writer of great power. I had read tho articles he wrote on drunkenness, and I

know that the pictures he presented were drawn from life. But if they were cited at his trial tlioy would toll against instead of for him, and would serve to discount the speech he might mako in his defence Tho mystery must bo grappled with in a more practical manner, and I was tho more determined to grapplo with it sensibly and with as little sentiment as possible, because, when 1 finished tho Confession I was convinced that Fordham was quite truthful in all he had set down. It wouid bo hoping too much to hope that the judge and jury would think so, but I might succeed in discovering something that would lead to a verdict of manslaughter, and the passing of a light sentence; and it was not altogether impossible that a verdict of complete acquittal might be compassed. In which caco, what hecotnis of the censure parsed by Ford ha in V solicitor upon the class to which I belong ? I cast, the word " vermin" in his teeth. Ho and others aro glad enough to avail themselves of our services when

ihey need them. Fordham says that to establish his innocence (or bring about his acquittal, which I suppose moans the same thing) a miracle is needed. Not at all. If it is dome, common sense will do it. So, to work.

How many persons in the drama ? Leaving out Ellen Cameron, who is not connected with the mystery, six. Mrs. Fordhnm, John Fordham'e stepmother. Dead.

Louis Fordham. Dead, Barbara, wife of John Fordltem. Dead. Annette, the French maid. Disappeared. No mention of her. Max vol I. Alive. Where was ho? John Fordham. In prison. There remained, therefore, only one person upon whom there was a likelihood of laying hands. Maxwell. 1 must see him. John Fordham would bo able to trive me his address. I decided to seek an interview with John Fordham early in the morning.

But would it be easy to find Maxwell ? Ho was accessory aftor the fact. John Fordham seems not bo have thought of that. Maxwell, with better knowledge of tho law, undoubtedly thought of it. Natural conclusion—Maxwell would keep out of the way. No reason why he should not be tracked. It was something in my lino.

About the house in Rye-street, in which louis Fordham mot his death, and the circumstances of the fatal struggle. Was it $kely that Louis alone knew of that houso «nd had no confederates ? Not at all likely, Who wore his confederates? I put the tame of one on paper—Maxwell, Good 1 \ ray of light. Liko looking through a think in the door. I saw possibilities. Who took "tho houso, and lor what purtjna \va.sit taken? Certainly not for the purpose of killing John Fordham. I dismissed the idea instantly. The confederates, oven if they know tho name of tho vessel in which John Fordham was travelling, could not h;ivo known that it would arrive at such and such an hour on such and such a day ; could not have known that ho would walk through Rye-street on his way to the railway station could not have known that a groat snowstorm would arise to cloak thoir proceedings; could not have timed tho moment thai ho would pass the house. Natural conclusion that tho meeting between him and Louis was accidental, and that during tho Struggle Louis was as little aware as John of the identity of his as-

saitant. And here I was confronted with those elements of the affair which added to John Fordham's danger. His taking Louis' ulster to hide the stains of blood on his clothes, his accidental picking tip of Louis' watch, believing it to be his own, his assumed name, and his remaining in hiding for so long a time. To all these I had satisfactory answers, but no jury iu tho world would entertain them. My hopes foil almost to zero.

I was setting these details down in the order of their occurrence. Of the strange discoveries I subsequently made I will make no mention till tho proper time arrives. Before I went to bed I posted a comforting letter to Miss Cameron, in which 1 said much of my hopes and nothing of my fears. (To be continued on Saturday next.)