The Brooklyn Murders quotes

I really can’t allow that to happen. I don’t really mind about the will, or John getting the money; but it must not be publicly given out that John is to have me as well.

Uncle Vernon has no right to leave me as part of his ‘net personalty’ to John or anybody else.

”

Joan still tried to say something; but at this point Lucas cut quickly into the conversation.

Actor-managers, he said, had all the luck.

You would not find a poor devil of a playwright with the best part of a million to leave to his descendants. And then, with obvious relief, the rest helped to steer the talk back to less dangerous topics.

Then he came back and telephoned first for the police and then for the dead man’s doctor, who promised to be with them inside of half an hour. As he sat at the telephone he warned Morgan.

“Don’t disturb a thing. If we’re not careful one of us may get run in for this job.”

Morgan meanwhile had satisfied himself beyond a doubt that Prinsep was dead. Leaving the body he turned to Winter. “Someone will have to tell Miss Joan, I suppose. I’ll go and find her maid. Meanwhile you stay on guard here.”

Then she flung herself down on a couch, and let her feelings have their way. She sobbed half hysterically—not because, even at this tragic moment, she felt grief for John Prinsep, but simply because the sudden catastrophe was too much for her.

Tragedy had swooped down in a moment on the house of Brooklyn, sweeping out of existence the crisis which had seemed so vital to her only a few minutes ago.

On her was the sense of calamity, bewilderment, and helplessness in the face of death.

The connection of the victims with Sir Vernon Brooklyn and the Piccadilly Theatre was enough to ensure a first-class newspaper sensation. There was an unusual note of eagerness in his voice as he asked for the latest news.

“The trouble about this case, sir,” said Inspector Blaikie, “is that it’s as plain as a pikestaff; but what the clues plainly indicate cannot possibly be true. Perhaps I had better tell you the whole story from the beginning.”

Superintendent Wilson nodded, put the tips of his fingers together, leant back in his chair, and finally closed his eyes. He had composed himself to listen.

The third thing is that I’m practically certain the fingerprints on the club correspond to those I took from Prinsep’s hands. Then Prinsep was certainly seen walking in the garden.”

“In short, Inspector Blaikie,” said the superintendent, half smiling, “you appear to hold very strong prima facie evidence that each of these two men murdered the other.”

The inspector groaned. “Don’t laugh at me, sir,” he said. “I’m doing my best to puzzle it out. Of course they didn’t kill each other. At least, both of them didn’t. They couldn’t. You know what I mean.”

It is indispensable that the terrible business should be thoroughly cleared up. For one thing, I am very much afraid for Sir Vernon; and there certainly would be more chance of his getting over it if we knew exactly what the truth is.

Uncertainty is a killing business.

He has not been told yet about Mr. George Brooklyn’s death.”

The night porter, who was a north-countryman and a partisan of Yorkshire, cut in every now and then with a sarcastic comment. He was especially scornful of the day porter’s pride in the number of amateurs included in the Middlesex eleven.

“Call them gentlemen,” he said. “They get paid, same as the players, only they put it down as expenses.”

But at this point the argument broke off; for the day porter suddenly changed the subject.

“The finding of the ferrule in the garden, and the strong motive Walter Brooklyn had to put both nephews of Sir Vernon out of the way.”

“Motive by itself, however strong, is not enough; and the ferrule evidence is rather slender. It may have been dropped previously.”

“Walter Brooklyn had not been to Liskeard House for more than a week before the murder, and the ferrule was on his stick only three days before.”

His case so far, he recognised, depended on an inference; and it would be just like a jury to turn him down.

Juries, in his view, always did the wrong thing if you gave them half a chance.

Still, in this case it was worth while, in the hope of getting further evidence, even to endure their folly.

“

Knowing is one thing, and proving a case to a jury quite another.

But that’s enough for the present. I want to sleep on this.” And with these words Superintendent Wilson went out into the garden to play with the children.

When Joan and Ellery talked the thing over afterwards, they remembered that their eyes had met at this moment, and they had much ado not to laugh outright. They discovered that the same thought had come into their heads.

This was not merely the Spaniard: it was Don Quixote himself come to life again. But where was Rocinante?

Constable Mulligan excused himself. “I mustn’t be away from the station any longer. Now you’ve been introduced you can get along without me. You know where to find me if you want me again.”

Ellery promised that his visitor’s calling should be kept a dead secret. Then he gave him a drink and showed him out, after obtaining a renewal of the promise that he would attend in the morning. The man slouched out into the night.

Love did not keep Ellery awake.

He was tired, and he slept soundly, only waking in time to snatch a hasty breakfast, and to call for Joan early enough to take her straight round with him to their appointment at Thomas’s office.

“No, my dear inspector, it does help us.” And the superintendent rubbed his hands with satisfaction.

He smiled to himself as he reflected that he could see further than most people through a brick wall.

“How do you mean?” asked the inspector.

But remember that we have really nothing against him. Even if the story about the quarrel and his engagement turns out to be true, that doesn’t carry us very far. It is not enough to prove motive.

If everybody who had a motive for murder killed his man there would be nobody left alive.

Direct evidence is what counts.”

At one moment he still said to himself that all his good labour could not have been wasted, and that Walter Brooklyn must really be guilty after all. The next he found himself assuming, with greater assurance, that Winter was the murderer.

He was one of those men who can only keep their minds open by entertaining two contrary opinions at the same time.

He shook his head over what seemed to him the weakness of his superior in letting Walter Brooklyn go without arresting someone else.

for Walter Brooklyn was not an easy man to like, especially for his social inferiors. But this evening those who were most convinced of his guilt were also anxious to take part in waiting upon him.

There is a thrill to be got by close personal contact with a real murderer.

Downstairs, Walter Brooklyn had no doubt, the dining-room and the smoking-rooms, as well as the servants’ quarters, were busy with the news of his release. Among the Club members, as among the servants, there would be differences of opinion;

Yes, there were compensations in being swindled on such terms. Walter stood a good chance of wealth for as long as he lived; and what did it matter to him who might get the money after his death?

“After me, the deluge,” said Walter Brooklyn to himself, summing up the evening’s transaction.

The superintendent sighed.

Juries are sadly lacking in appreciation of the subtleties of reasoning.

“You’re quite right there,” he said. “My divination won’t hang Carter Woodman. But it convinces you as it convinced me. We have to get faith in our own knowledge before we can make a case that will persuade others.

“ ‘Monday, Dear Woodman, Meet me in the garden.—J. P.’ How does that strike you? The note was from Prinsep to Woodman; but it was written on the day before the murders. Lord, what a pity you didn’t keep the fragment.

My dear inspector, never destroy anything.

That is the only safe course for a man like you.”

“I must say you take it very calmly, Sir John.”

“In my business, young man, we get used to taking things calmly. Murder is not an uncommon crime.”

“But I understood Carter Woodman was a friend of yours.”