<SPAN name="CH21"><!-- CH21 --></SPAN>
<h2> CHAPTER XXI </h2>
<h3> THE DUBLIN MYSTERY </h3><p> </p>
<p>"I always thought that the history of that forged will was about as
interesting as any I had read," said the man in the corner that day. He
had been silent for some time, and was meditatively sorting and looking
through a packet of small photographs in his pocket-book. Polly guessed
that some of these would presently be placed before her for
inspection—and she had not long to wait.</p>
<p>"That is old Brooks," he said, pointing to one of the photographs,
"Millionaire Brooks, as he was called, and these are his two sons,
Percival and Murray. It was a curious case, wasn't it? Personally I
don't wonder that the police were completely at sea. If a member of that
highly estimable force happened to be as clever as the clever author of
that forged will, we should have very few undetected crimes in this
country."</p>
<p>"That is why I always try to persuade you to give our poor ignorant
police the benefit of your great insight and wisdom," said Polly, with
a smile.</p>
<p>"I know," he said blandly, "you have been most kind in that way, but I
am only an amateur. Crime interests me only when it resembles a clever
game of chess, with many intricate moves which all tend to one solution,
the checkmating of the antagonist—the detective force of the country.
Now, confess that, in the Dublin mystery, the clever police there were
absolutely checkmated."</p>
<p>"Absolutely."</p>
<p>"Just as the public was. There were actually two crimes committed in one
city which have completely baffled detection: the murder of Patrick
Wethered the lawyer, and the forged will of Millionaire Brooks. There
are not many millionaires in Ireland; no wonder old Brooks was a
notability in his way, since his business—bacon curing, I believe it
is—is said to be worth over £2,000,000 of solid money.</p>
<p>"His younger son Murray was a refined, highly educated man, and was,
moreover, the apple of his father's eye, as he was the spoilt darling of
Dublin society; good-looking, a splendid dancer, and a perfect rider, he
was the acknowledged 'catch' of the matrimonial market of Ireland, and
many a very aristocratic house was opened hospitably to the favourite
son of the millionaire.</p>
<p>"Of course, Percival Brooks, the eldest son, would inherit the bulk of
the old man's property and also probably the larger share in the
business; he, too, was good-looking, more so than his brother; he, too,
rode, danced, and talked well, but it was many years ago that mammas
with marriageable daughters had given up all hopes of Percival Brooks as
a probable son-in-law. That young man's infatuation for Maisie
Fortescue, a lady of undoubted charm but very doubtful antecedents, who
had astonished the London and Dublin music-halls with her extravagant
dances, was too well known and too old-established to encourage any
hopes in other quarters.</p>
<p>"Whether Percival Brooks would ever marry Maisie Fortescue was thought
to be very doubtful. Old Brooks had the full disposal of all his wealth,
and it would have fared ill with Percival if he introduced an
undesirable wife into the magnificent Fitzwilliam Place establishment.</p>
<p>"That is how matters stood," continued the man in the corner, "when
Dublin society one morning learnt, with deep regret and dismay, that old
Brooks had died very suddenly at his residence after only a few hours'
illness. At first it was generally understood that he had had an
apoplectic stroke; anyway, he had been at business hale and hearty as
ever the day before his death, which occurred late on the evening of
February 1st.</p>
<p>"It was the morning papers of February 2nd which told the sad news to
their readers, and it was those selfsame papers which on that eventful
morning contained another even more startling piece of news, that proved
the prelude to a series of sensations such as tranquil, placid Dublin
had not experienced for many years. This was, that on that very
afternoon which saw the death of Dublin's greatest millionaire, Mr.
Patrick Wethered, his solicitor, was murdered in Phoenix Park at five
o'clock in the afternoon while actually walking to his own house from
his visit to his client in Fitzwilliam Place.</p>
<p>"Patrick Wethered was as well known as the proverbial town pump; his
mysterious and tragic death filled all Dublin with dismay. The lawyer,
who was a man sixty years of age, had been struck on the back of the
head by a heavy stick, garrotted, and subsequently robbed, for neither
money, watch, or pocket-book were found upon his person, whilst the
police soon gathered from Patrick Wethered's household that he had left
home at two o'clock that afternoon, carrying both watch and pocket-book,
and undoubtedly money as well.</p>
<p>"An inquest was held, and a verdict of wilful murder was found against
some person or persons unknown.</p>
<p>"But Dublin had not exhausted its stock of sensations yet. Millionaire
Brooks had been buried with due pomp and magnificence, and his will had
been proved (his business and personalty being estimated at £2,500,000)
by Percival Gordon Brooks, his eldest son and sole executor. The younger
son, Murray, who had devoted the best years of his life to being a
friend and companion to his father, while Percival ran after
ballet-dancers and music-hall stars—Murray, who had avowedly been the
apple of his father's eye in consequence—was left with a miserly
pittance of £300 a year, and no share whatever in the gigantic business
of Brooks & Sons, bacon curers, of Dublin.</p>
<p>"Something had evidently happened within the precincts of the Brooks'
town mansion, which the public and Dublin society tried in vain to
fathom. Elderly mammas and blushing <i>débutantes</i> were already thinking
of the best means whereby next season they might more easily show the
cold shoulder to young Murray Brooks, who had so suddenly become a
hopeless 'detrimental' in the marriage market, when all these sensations
terminated in one gigantic, overwhelming bit of scandal, which for the
next three months furnished food for gossip in every drawing-room in
Dublin.</p>
<p>"Mr. Murray Brooks, namely, had entered a claim for probate of a will,
made by his father in 1891, declaring that the later will made the very
day of his father's death and proved by his brother as sole executor,
was null and void, that will being a forgery."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<SPAN name="CH22"><!-- CH22 --></SPAN>
<h2> CHAPTER XXII </h2>
<h3> FORGERY </h3><p> </p>
<p>"The facts that transpired in connection with this extraordinary case
were sufficiently mysterious to puzzle everybody. As I told you before,
all Mr. Brooks' friends never quite grasped the idea that the old man
should so completely have cut off his favourite son with the proverbial
shilling.</p>
<p>"You see, Percival had always been a thorn in the old man's flesh.
Horse-racing, gambling, theatres, and music-halls were, in the old
pork-butcher's eyes, so many deadly sins which his son committed every
day of his life, and all the Fitzwilliam Place household could testify
to the many and bitter quarrels which had arisen between father and son
over the latter's gambling or racing debts. Many people asserted that
Brooks would sooner have left his money to charitable institutions than
seen it squandered upon the brightest stars that adorned the music-hall
stage.</p>
<p>"The case came up for hearing early in the autumn. In the meanwhile
Percival Brooks had given up his racecourse associates, settled down in
the Fitzwilliam Place mansion, and conducted his father's business,
without a manager, but with all the energy and forethought which he had
previously devoted to more unworthy causes.</p>
<p>"Murray had elected not to stay on in the old house; no doubt
associations were of too painful and recent a nature; he was boarding
with the family of a Mr. Wilson Hibbert, who was the late Patrick
Wethered's, the murdered lawyer's, partner. They were quiet, homely
people, who lived in a very pokey little house in Kilkenny Street, and
poor Murray must, in spite of his grief, have felt very bitterly the
change from his luxurious quarters in his father's mansion to his
present tiny room and homely meals.</p>
<p>"Percival Brooks, who was now drawing an income of over a hundred
thousand a year, was very severely criticised for adhering so strictly
to the letter of his father's will, and only paying his brother that
paltry £300 a year, which was very literally but the crumbs off his own
magnificent dinner table.</p>
<p>"The issue of that contested will case was therefore awaited with eager
interest. In the meanwhile the police, who had at first seemed fairly
loquacious on the subject of the murder of Mr. Patrick Wethered,
suddenly became strangely reticent, and by their very reticence aroused
a certain amount of uneasiness in the public mind, until one day the
<i>Irish Times</i> published the following extraordinary, enigmatic
paragraph:</p>
<p>"'We hear on authority which cannot be questioned, that certain
extraordinary developments are expected in connection with the brutal
murder of our distinguished townsman Mr. Wethered; the police, in fact,
are vainly trying to keep it secret that they hold a clue which is as
important as it is sensational, and that they only await the impending
issue of a well-known litigation in the probate court to effect an
arrest.'</p>
<p>"The Dublin public flocked to the court to hear the arguments in the
great will case. I myself journeyed down to Dublin. As soon as I
succeeded in fighting my way to the densely crowded court, I took stock
of the various actors in the drama, which I as a spectator was prepared
to enjoy. There were Percival Brooks and Murray his brother, the two
litigants, both good-looking and well dressed, and both striving, by
keeping up a running conversation with their lawyer, to appear
unconcerned and confident of the issue. With Percival Brooks was Henry
Oranmore, the eminent Irish K.C., whilst Walter Hibbert, a rising young
barrister, the son of Wilson Hibbert, appeared for Murray.</p>
<p>"The will of which the latter claimed probate was one dated 1891, and
had been made by Mr. Brooks during a severe illness which threatened to
end his days. This will had been deposited in the hands of Messrs.
Wethered and Hibbert, solicitors to the deceased, and by it Mr. Brooks
left his personalty equally divided between his two sons, but had left
his business entirely to his youngest son, with a charge of £2000 a year
upon it, payable to Percival. You see that Murray Brooks therefore had a
very deep interest in that second will being found null and void.</p>
<p>"Old Mr. Hibbert had very ably instructed his son, and Walter Hibbert's
opening speech was exceedingly clever. He would show, he said, on behalf
of his client, that the will dated February 1st, 1908, could never have
been made by the late Mr. Brooks, as it was absolutely contrary to his
avowed intentions, and that if the late Mr. Brooks did on the day in
question make any fresh will at all, it certainly was <i>not</i> the one
proved by Mr. Percival Brooks, for that was absolutely a forgery from
beginning to end. Mr. Walter Hibbert proposed to call several witnesses
in support of both these points.</p>
<p>"On the other hand, Mr. Henry Oranmore, K.C., very ably and courteously
replied that he too had several witnesses to prove that Mr. Brooks
certainly did make a will on the day in question, and that, whatever his
intentions may have been in the past, he must have modified them on the
day of his death, for the will proved by Mr. Percival Brooks was found
after his death under his pillow, duly signed and witnessed and in every
way legal.</p>
<p>"Then the battle began in sober earnest. There were a great many
witnesses to be called on both sides, their evidence being of more or
less importance—chiefly less. But the interest centred round the
prosaic figure of John O'Neill, the butler at Fitzwilliam Place, who had
been in Mr. Brooks' family for thirty years.</p>
<p>"'I was clearing away my breakfast things,' said John, 'when I heard the
master's voice in the study close by. Oh my, he was that angry! I could
hear the words "disgrace," and "villain," and "liar," and
"ballet-dancer," and one or two other ugly words as applied to some
female lady, which I would not like to repeat. At first I did not take
much notice, as I was quite used to hearing my poor dear master having
words with Mr. Percival. So I went downstairs carrying my breakfast
things; but I had just started cleaning my silver when the study bell
goes ringing violently, and I hear Mr. Percival's voice shouting in the
hall: "John! quick! Send for Dr. Mulligan at once. Your master is not
well! Send one of the men, and you come up and help me to get Mr. Brooks
to bed."</p>
<p>"'I sent one of the grooms for the doctor,' continued John, who seemed
still affected at the recollection of his poor master, to whom he had
evidently been very much attached, 'and I went up to see Mr. Brooks. I
found him lying on the study floor, his head supported in Mr. Percival's
arms. "My father has fallen in a faint," said the young master; "help me
to get him up to his room before Dr. Mulligan comes."</p>
<p>"'Mr. Percival looked very white and upset, which was only natural; and
when we had got my poor master to bed, I asked if I should not go and
break the news to Mr. Murray, who had gone to business an hour ago.
However, before Mr. Percival had time to give me an order the doctor
came. I thought I had seen death plainly writ in my master's face, and
when I showed the doctor out an hour later, and he told me that he would
be back directly, I knew that the end was near.</p>
<p>"'Mr. Brooks rang for me a minute or two later. He told me to send at
once for Mr. Wethered, or else for Mr. Hibbert, if Mr. Wethered could
not come. "I haven't many hours to live, John," he says to me—"my heart
is broke, the doctor says my heart is broke. A man shouldn't marry and
have children, John, for they will sooner or later break his heart." I
was so upset I couldn't speak; but I sent round at once for Mr.
Wethered, who came himself just about three o'clock that afternoon.</p>
<p>"'After he had been with my master about an hour I was called in, and
Mr. Wethered said to me that Mr. Brooks wished me and one other of us
servants to witness that he had signed a paper which was on a table by
his bedside. I called Pat Mooney, the head footman, and before us both
Mr. Brooks put his name at the bottom of that paper. Then Mr. Wethered
give me the pen and told me to write my name as a witness, and that Pat
Mooney was to do the same. After that we were both told that we could
go.'</p>
<p>"The old butler went on to explain that he was present in his late
master's room on the following day when the undertakers, who had come to
lay the dead man out, found a paper underneath his pillow. John O'Neill,
who recognized the paper as the one to which he had appended his
signature the day before, took it to Mr. Percival, and gave it into his
hands.</p>
<p>"In answer to Mr. Walter Hibbert, John asserted positively that he took
the paper from the undertaker's hand and went straight with it to Mr.
Percival's room.</p>
<p>"'He was alone,' said John; 'I gave him the paper. He just glanced at
it, and I thought he looked rather astonished, but he said nothing, and
I at once left the room.'</p>
<p>"'When you say that you recognized the paper as the one which you had
seen your master sign the day before, how did you actually recognize
that it was the same paper?' asked Mr. Hibbert amidst breathless
interest on the part of the spectators. I narrowly observed the
witness's face.</p>
<p>"'It looked exactly the same paper to me, sir,' replied John, somewhat
vaguely.</p>
<p>"'Did you look at the contents, then?'</p>
<p>"'No, sir; certainly not.'</p>
<p>"'Had you done so the day before?'</p>
<p>"'No, sir, only at my master's signature.'</p>
<p>"'Then you only thought by the <i>outside</i> look of the paper that it was
the same?'</p>
<p>"'It looked the same thing, sir,' persisted John obstinately.</p>
<p>"You see," continued the man in the corner, leaning eagerly forward
across the narrow marble table, "the contention of Murray Brooks'
adviser was that Mr. Brooks, having made a will and hidden it—for some
reason or other under his pillow—that will had fallen, through the
means related by John O'Neill, into the hands of Mr. Percival Brooks,
who had destroyed it and substituted a forged one in its place, which
adjudged the whole of Mr. Brooks' millions to himself. It was a terrible
and very daring accusation directed against a gentleman who, in spite of
his many wild oats sowed in early youth, was a prominent and important
figure in Irish high life.</p>
<p>"All those present were aghast at what they heard, and the whispered
comments I could hear around me showed me that public opinion, at
least, did not uphold Mr. Murray Brooks' daring accusation against his
brother.</p>
<p>"But John O'Neill had not finished his evidence, and Mr. Walter Hibbert
had a bit of sensation still up his sleeve. He had, namely, produced a
paper, the will proved by Mr. Percival Brooks, and had asked John
O'Neill if once again he recognized the paper.</p>
<p>"'Certainly, sir,' said John unhesitatingly, 'that is the one the
undertaker found under my poor dead master's pillow, and which I took to
Mr. Percival's room immediately.'</p>
<p>"Then the paper was unfolded and placed before the witness.</p>
<p>"'Now, Mr. O'Neill, will you tell me if that is your signature?'</p>
<p>"John looked at it for a moment; then he said: 'Excuse me, sir,' and
produced a pair of spectacles which he carefully adjusted before he
again examined the paper. Then he thoughtfully shook his head.</p>
<p>"'It don't look much like my writing, sir,' he said at last. 'That is to
say,' he added, by way of elucidating the matter, 'it does look like my
writing, but then I don't think it is.'</p>
<p>"There was at that moment a look in Mr. Percival Brooks' face,"
continued the man in the corner quietly, "which then and there gave me
the whole history of that quarrel, that illness of Mr. Brooks, of the
will, aye! and of the murder of Patrick Wethered too.</p>
<p>"All I wondered at was how every one of those learned counsel on both
sides did not get the clue just the same as I did, but went on arguing,
speechifying, cross-examining for nearly a week, until they arrived at
the one conclusion which was inevitable from the very first, namely,
that the will <i>was</i> a forgery—a gross, clumsy, idiotic forgery, since
both John O'Neill and Pat Mooney, the two witnesses, absolutely
repudiated the signatures as their own. The only successful bit of
caligraphy the forger had done was the signature of old Mr. Brooks.</p>
<p>"It was a very curious fact, and one which had undoubtedly aided the
forger in accomplishing his work quickly, that Mr. Wethered the lawyer
having, no doubt, realized that Mr. Brooks had not many moments in life
to spare, had not drawn up the usual engrossed, magnificent document
dear to the lawyer heart, but had used for his client's will one of
those regular printed forms which can be purchased at any stationer's.</p>
<p>"Mr. Percival Brooks, of course, flatly denied the serious allegation
brought against him. He admitted that the butler had brought him the
document the morning after his father's death, and that he certainly, on
glancing at it, had been very much astonished to see that that document
was his father's will. Against that he declared that its contents did
not astonish him in the slightest degree, that he himself knew of the
testator's intentions, but that he certainly thought his father had
entrusted the will to the care of Mr. Wethered, who did all his business
for him.</p>
<p>"'I only very cursorily glanced at the signature,' he concluded,
speaking in a perfectly calm, clear voice; 'you must understand that the
thought of forgery was very far from my mind, and that my father's
signature is exceedingly well imitated, if, indeed, it is not his own,
which I am not at all prepared to believe. As for the two witnesses'
signatures, I don't think I had ever seen them before. I took the
document to Messrs. Barkston and Maud, who had often done business for
me before, and they assured me that the will was in perfect form and
order.'</p>
<p>"Asked why he had not entrusted the will to his father's solicitors, he
replied:</p>
<p>"'For the very simple reason that exactly half an hour before the will
was placed in my hands, I had read that Mr. Patrick Wethered had been
murdered the night before. Mr. Hibbert, the junior partner, was not
personally known to me.'</p>
<p>"After that, for form's sake, a good deal of expert evidence was heard
on the subject of the dead man's signature. But that was quite
unanimous, and merely went to corroborate what had already been
established beyond a doubt, namely, that the will dated February 1st,
1908, was a forgery, and probate of the will dated 1891 was therefore
granted to Mr. Murray Brooks, the sole executor mentioned therein."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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