"Yes, it is true. I witnessed the murder of Charles Holroyde. On that
night I had left the Cafe de la Regence, and crossing the road overtook,
in the Avenue de la Gare, Nelly Bridson, Captain Brooker's adopted
daughter. We had met before on several occasions, and after she had
told me that she had been to a chemist's to obtain something for Liane,
who was not well, I offered, as it was late, to accompany her as far as
her house in the Rue Dalpozzo. To this she made no objection, and we
walked together along the Rue de France as far as the corner of the
street wherein she lived. The moon, however, was bright upon the sea,
and at my suggestion she consented to accompany me for a stroll along
the Promenade. To reach the latter we had to pass through a narrow
lane, which we had just entered, when we saw straight before us figures
of men struggling together. Instantly I dragged Nelly back into the
deep shadow where we could see without being observed. Suddenly I heard
one of the men cry in English `My God! I'm stabbed!' and he staggered
back and fell. Then, discerning for the first time that the man had
been attacked by two assailants, I rushed forward, but already they had
bent and secured the contents of their victim's pocket, and as I
approached one of them threw the knife away. That man I recognised in
the moonlight as Captain Brooker!"
A low groan escaped the lips of the pale-faced, agitated man who had
been thus denounced, and he stood paralysed by fear, clutching the back
of a chair for support.
"The man, however, who threw away the knife he had snatched up, was not
the murderer," Richards continued, in a clear, calm voice. "Both Nelly
and myself were afterwards in complete accord that it was his companion
who had, in the melee, struck the fatal blow. The murderer was the man
there--Zertho d'Auzac."
"It's a lie!" cried the man indicated, "a foul, abominable falsehood!
Brooker crept up behind him and tried to gag him with a scarf, when,
finding that he was too powerful for him, he struck him full in the
breast. In an instant he was dead."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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