“But he won’t get Raeburn off this manslaughter charge,” Turnbull declared, on the day before the second hearing. “He’ll get six months or a year.”

Roger made no comment.

Before going to court, he went over every piece of evidence, and then reported to Chatworth.

“Think we’re all right?” the AC asked.

“Short of a miracle, we’ll get him committed to the Old Bailey, sir,” said Roger. “I don’t think there’ll be much difficulty after that. But I’ve drawn a blank with everything else. It’s certain that two or three people were on the Common that night, but we can’t get tabs on anyone. If we could prove that the car stopped—”

“Just get him on this charge,” Chatworth advised. “Stop worrying about any other.”

There was little choice, but Roger was uneasy when he went to court. The case had aroused a lot of interest, big crowds were gathered outside, and the public gallery was packed with friends and acquaintances of the millionaire. Roger’s disquiet increased when he saw Melville smiling confidently, and Raeburn as immaculate and self-assured as ever.

Roger was with Turnbull just before the preliminaries, when die door of the room set aside for the police burst open and Eddie Day rushed in.

“ ‘Andsome. you ‘eard?” Excitement always made Eddie falter on his aspirates.

“Heard what?” demanded Roger. “They’ve got a surprise witness, a girl named Franklin —some dame, too. No wonder Melville’s grinning all over his face!”

That sent Roger’s spirits to a record low.

CHAPTER III

SURPRISE WITNESS

MELVILLE WAS a big, round-faced man, with sleek dark hair and tufts of dark eyebrows which gave him a comical appearance. His voice was soft and seemed friendly. He sat patiently until evidence of arrest and other formalities were over; when Roger took the oath, his smile broadened and he rubbed his hands together.