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That's the man I saw talking to him whose picture you've got in your paper. Can't say no more, sir." "Very good," said Spargo. "I'm much obliged to you. I'll see Mr. Aylmore. Leave me your address in London, Mr. Webster. How long do you remain in town?" "My address is the Beachcroft Hotel, Bloomsbury, sir, and I shall be there for another week," answered the farmer.
This is from Rathbury, the Scotland Yard detective that I told you of, Mr. Quarterpage he promised, you know, to keep me posted in what went on in my absence. Here's what he says: "Fresh evidence tending to incriminate Aylmore has come to hand. Authorities have decided to arrest him on suspicion. You'd better hurry back if you want material for to-morrow's paper."
At last he comes back, evidently well-to-do. He's murdered the very day of his arrival. Aylmore is the only man who knows anything of him Aylmore won't tell all he knows; that's flat. But Aylmore's admitted that he knew him at some vague date, say from twenty-one to twenty-two or three years ago. Now, where did Aylmore know him? He says in London. That's a vague term.
"And before you allow him to make any explanation now, I ask you to hear another witness whom I wish to interpose at this stage. That witness is " Mr. Aylmore turned almost angrily to the Coroner. "After the evidence of the last witness, I think I have a right to be heard at once!" he said with emphasis.
"You think you could get something there?" asked Rathbury. "Look here!" said Spargo. "I don't believe for a second Aylmore killed Marbury. I believe I shall get at the truth by following up what I call the Maitland trail. This Miss Baylis must know something if she's alive. Well, now I'm going to report at the office. Keep in touch with me, Rathbury."
Spargo got up from his desk and walked around his room for a few minutes, Rathbury meanwhile finding and lighting another cigar. At last Spargo came back and clapped a hand on the detective's shoulder. "Look here, Rathbury!" he said. "It's very evident that you're now going on the lines that Aylmore did murder Marbury. Eh?" Rathbury looked up. His face showed astonishment.
"The young fellow whose name and address were found on Marbury," replied Rathbury. "I remember." "Breton is engaged to Aylmore's daughter," continued Spargo. "Breton took me to Aylmore's club. And Aylmore gives a plain, straightforward account of the matter which he's granted me leave to print. It clears up a lot of things. Aylmore knew Marbury over twenty years ago. He lost sight of him.
He made for the door, and with his hand on it, turned. "What do you expect from from what we've just heard?" he asked. Spargo shrugged his shoulders. "Wait until we hear what Mr. Aylmore has to say," he answered. "I suppose this man Marbury was some old acquaintance." Breton closed the door and went away: left alone, Spargo began to mutter to himself. "Good God!" he says.
Aylmore suddenly came forward again, seeking the Coroner's attention. "May I be allowed to make an explanation, sir?" he began. But the Treasury Counsel was on his feet, this time stern and implacable. "I would point out, sir, that you have had Mr. Aylmore in the box, and that he was not then at all ready to give explanations, or even to answer questions," he said.
Stephen Aylmore, M.P., who is charged with the murder of John Marbury, or Maitland, in the Temple on June 21st last, was yesterday afternoon identified by certain officials as Stephen Ainsworth, who was sentenced to a term of penal servitude in connection with the Hearth and Home Mutual Benefit Society funds nearly thirty years ago."
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