THE MOTIVE
"Now at first sight the murder in the Regent's Park appeared both to
police and public as one of those silly, clumsy crimes, obviously the
work of a novice, and absolutely purposeless, seeing that it could but
inevitably lead its perpetrators, without any difficulty, to the
gallows.
"You see, a motive had been established. 'Seek him whom the crime
benefits,' say our French _confrères_. But there was something more than
that.
"Constable James Funnell, on his beat, turned from Portland Place into
Park Crescent a few minutes after he had heard the clock at Holy Trinity
Church, Marylebone, strike half-past two. The fog at that moment was
perhaps not quite so dense as it was later on in the morning, and the
policeman saw two gentlemen in overcoats and top-hats leaning arm in arm
against the railings of the Square, close to the gate. He could not, of
course, distinguish their faces because of the fog, but he heard one of
them saying to the other:
"'It is but a question of time, Mr. Cohen. I know my father will pay
the money for me, and you will lose nothing by waiting.'
"To this the other apparently made no reply, and the constable passed
on; when he returned to the same spot, after having walked over his
beat, the two gentlemen had gone, but later on it was near this very
gate that the two keys referred to at the inquest had been found.
"Another interesting fact," added the man in the corner, with one of
those sarcastic smiles of his which Polly could not quite explain, "was
the finding of the revolver upon the scene of the crime. That revolver,
shown to Mr. Ashley's valet, was sworn to by him as being the property
of his master.
"All these facts made, of course, a very remarkable, so far quite
unbroken, chain of circumstantial evidence against Mr. John Ashley. No
wonder, therefore, that the police, thoroughly satisfied with Mr.
Fisher's work and their own, applied for a warrant against the young
man, and arrested him in his rooms in Clarges Street exactly a week
after the committal of the crime.
"As a matter of fact, you know, experience has invariably taught me that
when a murderer seems particularly foolish and clumsy, and proofs
against him seem particularly damning, that is the time when the police
should be most guarded against pitfalls.
"Now in this case, if John Ashley had indeed committed the murder in
Regent's Park in the manner suggested by the police, he would have been
a criminal in more senses than one, for idiocy of that kind is to my
mind worse than many crimes.
"The prosecution brought its witnesses up in triumphal array one after
another. There were the members of the Harewood Club--who had seen the
prisoner's excited condition after his heavy gambling losses to Mr.
Aaron Cohen; there was Mr. Hatherell, who, in spite of his friendship
for Ashley, was bound to admit that he had parted from him at the corner
of Bond Street at twenty minutes to two, and had not seen him again till
his return home at five a.m.
"Then came the evidence of Arthur Chipps, John Ashley's valet. It proved
of a very sensational character.
"He deposed that on the night in question his master came home at about
ten minutes to two. Chipps had then not yet gone to bed. Five minutes
later Mr. Ashley went out again, telling the valet not to sit up for
him. Chipps could not say at what time either of the young gentlemen had
come home.
"That short visit home--presumably to fetch the revolver--was thought to
be very important, and Mr. John Ashley's friends felt that his case was
practically hopeless.
"The valet's evidence and that of James Funnell, the constable, who had
overheard the conversation near the park railings, were certainly the
two most damning proofs against the accused. I assure you I was having a
rare old time that day. There were two faces in court to watch which was
the greatest treat I had had for many a day. One of these was Mr. John
Ashley's.
"Here's his photo--short, dark, dapper, a little 'racy' in style, but
otherwise he looks a son of a well-to-do farmer. He was very quiet and
placid in court, and addressed a few words now and again to his
solicitor. He listened gravely, and with an occasional shrug of the
shoulders, to the recital of the crime, such as the police had
reconstructed it, before an excited and horrified audience.
"Mr. John Ashley, driven to madness and frenzy by terrible financial
difficulties, had first of all gone home in search of a weapon, then
waylaid Mr. Aaron Cohen somewhere on that gentleman's way home. The
young man had begged for delay. Mr. Cohen perhaps was obdurate; but
Ashley followed him with his importunities almost to his door.
"There, seeing his creditor determined at last to cut short the painful
interview, he had seized the unfortunate man at an unguarded moment from
behind, and strangled him; then, fearing that his dastardly work was not
fully accomplished, he had shot twice at the already dead body, missing
it both times from sheer nervous excitement. The murderer then must have
emptied his victim's pockets, and, finding the key of the garden,
thought that it would be a safe way of evading capture by cutting across
the squares, under the tunnel, and so through the more distant gate
which faced Portland Place.
"The loss of the revolver was one of those unforeseen accidents which a
retributive Providence places in the path of the miscreant, delivering
him by his own act of folly into the hands of human justice.
"Mr. John Ashley, however, did not appear the least bit impressed by the
recital of his crime. He had not engaged the services of one of the most
eminent lawyers, expert at extracting contradictions from witnesses by
skilful cross-examinations--oh, dear me, no! he had been contented with
those of a dull, prosy, very second-rate limb of the law, who, as he
called his witnesses, was completely innocent of any desire to create a
sensation.
"He rose quietly from his seat, and, amidst breathless silence, called
the first of three witnesses on behalf of his client. He called
three--but he could have produced twelve--gentlemen, members of the
Ashton Club in Great Portland Street, all of whom swore that at three
o'clock on the morning of February 6th, that is to say, at the very
moment when the cries of 'Murder' roused the inhabitants of Park Square
West, and the crime was being committed, Mr. John Ashley was sitting
quietly in the club-rooms of the Ashton playing bridge with the three
witnesses. He had come in a few minutes before three--as the hall porter
of the Club testified--and stayed for about an hour and a half.
"I need not tell you that this undoubted, this fully proved, _alibi_ was
a positive bombshell in the stronghold of the prosecution. The most
accomplished criminal could not possibly be in two places at once, and
though the Ashton Club transgresses in many ways against the gambling
laws of our very moral country, yet its members belong to the best, most
unimpeachable classes of society. Mr. Ashley had been seen and spoken to
at the very moment of the crime by at least a dozen gentlemen whose
testimony was absolutely above suspicion.
"Mr. John Ashley's conduct throughout this astonishing phase of the
inquiry remained perfectly calm and correct. It was no doubt the
consciousness of being able to prove his innocence with such absolute
conclusion that had steadied his nerves throughout the proceedings.
"His answers to the magistrate were clear and simple, even on the
ticklish subject of the revolver.
"'I left the club, sir,' he explained, 'fully determined to speak with
Mr. Cohen alone in order to ask him for a delay in the settlement of my
debt to him. You will understand that I should not care to do this in
the presence of other gentlemen. I went home for a minute or two--not in
order to fetch a revolver, as the police assert, for I always carry a
revolver about with me in foggy weather--but in order to see if a very
important business letter had come for me in my absence.
"'Then I went out again, and met Mr. Aaron Cohen not far from the
Harewood Club. I walked the greater part of the way with him, and our
conversation was of the most amicable character. We parted at the top of
Portland Place, near the gate of the Square, where the policeman saw us.
Mr. Cohen then had the intention of cutting across the Square, as being
a shorter way to his own house. I thought the Square looked dark and
dangerous in the fog, especially as Mr. Cohen was carrying a large sum
of money.
"'We had a short discussion on the subject, and finally I persuaded him
to take my revolver, as I was going home only through very frequented
streets, and moreover carried nothing that was worth stealing. After a
little demur Mr. Cohen accepted the loan of my revolver, and that is
how it came to be found on the actual scene of the crime; finally I
parted from Mr. Cohen a very few minutes after I had heard the church
clock striking a quarter before three. I was at the Oxford Street end of
Great Portland Street at five minutes to three, and it takes at least
ten minutes to walk from where I was to the Ashton Club.'
"This explanation was all the more credible, mind you, because the
question of the revolver had never been very satisfactorily explained by
the prosecution. A man who has effectually strangled his victim would
not discharge two shots of his revolver for, apparently, no other
purpose than that of rousing the attention of the nearest passer-by. It
was far more likely that it was Mr. Cohen who shot--perhaps wildly into
the air, when suddenly attacked from behind. Mr. Ashley's explanation
therefore was not only plausible, it was the only possible one.
"You will understand therefore how it was that, after nearly half an
hour's examination, the magistrate, the police, and the public were
alike pleased to proclaim that the accused left the court without a
stain upon his character."