The Agony Column [17]
"But - er - as a matter of fact, we are here to ask that you alter your testimony. Could you, as a favor to us who have suffered so cruel a loss - a favor we should never forget - could you not make the hour of that struggle half after six?''
I was quite overwhelmed.
"Your - reasons?" I managed at last to ask.
"I am not able to give them to you in full," the boy answered. "I can only say this: It happens that at seven o'clock last Thursday night I was dining with friends at the Savoy - friends who would not be likely to forget the occasion."
The old general leaped to his feet.
"Norman," he cried, "I can not let you do this thing! I simply will not - "
"Hush, father," said the boy wearily. "We have threshed it all out. You have promised - "
The old man sank back into the chair and buried his face in his hands.
"If you are willing to change your testimony," young Fraser-Freer went on to me, "I shall at once confess to the police that it was I who - who murdered my brother. They suspect me. They know that late last Thursday afternoon I purchased a revolver, for which, they believe, at the last moment I substituted the knife. They know that I was in debt to him; that we had quarreled about money matters; that by his death I, and I alone, could profit."
He broke off suddenly and came toward me, holding out his arms with a pleading gesture I can never forget.
"Do this for me!" he cried. "Let me confess! Let me end this whole horrible business here and now."
Surely no man had ever to answer such an appeal before.
"Why?" I found myself saying, and over and over I repeated it - "Why? Why?"
The lieutenant faced me, and I hope never again to see such a look in a man's eyes.
"I loved him!" he cried. "That is why. For his honor, for the honor of our family, I am making this request of you. Believe me, it is not easy. I can tell you no more than that. You knew my brother?"
"Slightly."
"Then, for his sake - do this thing I ask."
"But - murder - "
"You heard the sounds of a struggle. I shall say that we quarreled - that I struck in self-defense." He turned to his father. "It will mean only a few years in prison - I can bear that!" he cried. "For the honor of our name!"
The old man groaned, but did not raise his head. The boy walked back and forth over my faded carpet like a lion caged. I stood wondering what answer I should make.
"I know what you are thinking," said the lieutenant. "You can not credit your ears. But you have heard correctly. And now - as you might put it - it is up to you. I have been in your country." He smiled pitifully. "I think I know you Americans. You are not the sort to refuse a man when he is sore beset - as I am."
I looked from him to the general and back again.
"I must think this over," I answered, my mind going at once to Colonel Hughes. "Later - say to-morrow - you shall have my decision."
"To-morrow," said the boy, "we shall both be called before Inspector Bray. I shall know your answer then - and I hope with all my heart it will be yes."
There were a few mumbled words of farewell and he and the broken old man went out. As soon as the street door closed behind them I hurried to the telephone and called a number Colonel Hughes had given me. It was with a feeling of relief that I heard his voice come back over the wire. I told him I must see him at once. He replied that by a singular chance he had been on the point of starting for my rooms.
In the half-hour that elapsed before the coming of the colonel I walked about like a man in a trance. He was barely inside my door when I began pouring out to him the story of those two remarkable visits. He made little comment on the woman's call beyond asking me whether I could describe her; and he smiled when I mentioned lilac perfume. At mention of young Fraser-Freer's preposterous request he whistled.
"By gad!" he said. "Interesting - most interesting! I am not surprised, however. That boy has the stuff in him."
"But what shall I do?" I demanded.
I was quite overwhelmed.
"Your - reasons?" I managed at last to ask.
"I am not able to give them to you in full," the boy answered. "I can only say this: It happens that at seven o'clock last Thursday night I was dining with friends at the Savoy - friends who would not be likely to forget the occasion."
The old general leaped to his feet.
"Norman," he cried, "I can not let you do this thing! I simply will not - "
"Hush, father," said the boy wearily. "We have threshed it all out. You have promised - "
The old man sank back into the chair and buried his face in his hands.
"If you are willing to change your testimony," young Fraser-Freer went on to me, "I shall at once confess to the police that it was I who - who murdered my brother. They suspect me. They know that late last Thursday afternoon I purchased a revolver, for which, they believe, at the last moment I substituted the knife. They know that I was in debt to him; that we had quarreled about money matters; that by his death I, and I alone, could profit."
He broke off suddenly and came toward me, holding out his arms with a pleading gesture I can never forget.
"Do this for me!" he cried. "Let me confess! Let me end this whole horrible business here and now."
Surely no man had ever to answer such an appeal before.
"Why?" I found myself saying, and over and over I repeated it - "Why? Why?"
The lieutenant faced me, and I hope never again to see such a look in a man's eyes.
"I loved him!" he cried. "That is why. For his honor, for the honor of our family, I am making this request of you. Believe me, it is not easy. I can tell you no more than that. You knew my brother?"
"Slightly."
"Then, for his sake - do this thing I ask."
"But - murder - "
"You heard the sounds of a struggle. I shall say that we quarreled - that I struck in self-defense." He turned to his father. "It will mean only a few years in prison - I can bear that!" he cried. "For the honor of our name!"
The old man groaned, but did not raise his head. The boy walked back and forth over my faded carpet like a lion caged. I stood wondering what answer I should make.
"I know what you are thinking," said the lieutenant. "You can not credit your ears. But you have heard correctly. And now - as you might put it - it is up to you. I have been in your country." He smiled pitifully. "I think I know you Americans. You are not the sort to refuse a man when he is sore beset - as I am."
I looked from him to the general and back again.
"I must think this over," I answered, my mind going at once to Colonel Hughes. "Later - say to-morrow - you shall have my decision."
"To-morrow," said the boy, "we shall both be called before Inspector Bray. I shall know your answer then - and I hope with all my heart it will be yes."
There were a few mumbled words of farewell and he and the broken old man went out. As soon as the street door closed behind them I hurried to the telephone and called a number Colonel Hughes had given me. It was with a feeling of relief that I heard his voice come back over the wire. I told him I must see him at once. He replied that by a singular chance he had been on the point of starting for my rooms.
In the half-hour that elapsed before the coming of the colonel I walked about like a man in a trance. He was barely inside my door when I began pouring out to him the story of those two remarkable visits. He made little comment on the woman's call beyond asking me whether I could describe her; and he smiled when I mentioned lilac perfume. At mention of young Fraser-Freer's preposterous request he whistled.
"By gad!" he said. "Interesting - most interesting! I am not surprised, however. That boy has the stuff in him."
"But what shall I do?" I demanded.