Chapter 1
Edinburgh
It was by all appearances an ordinary trial in the Court of Justiciary in Edinburgh.
At one table, the Lord Advocate, prosecutor for the Crown, leaned back in his chair, looking eminently satisfied. The case before the court looked very clear: a common fence from Glasgow, charged with receiving goods stolen from Edinburgh merchants over the last several months. The accused, Adam Fergusson, had been named by the admitted thieves; some of the stolen goods had been found in his home; and he looked the part, long-faced and pale with small dark eyes that darted around constantly.
Mr. Campbell, the Lord Advocate, had already presented the case against Fergusson. Every witness had been unequivocal. Campbell had been overheard telling his clerk they would have the man convicted by dinner.
Felix Duncan got to his feet and smoothed down his robe to present the case for the defense.
A very pretty young lady with a generous bosom was his first witness. She smiled, showing her dimples, at the clerk who guided her to the witness stand, and two of the judges sat up a little straighter.
“I am Magdalen Fergusson, sister of Adam Fergusson,” she said, her voice clear and sweet in the crowded courtroom. “I have known him all my life and kept house for him these last three years in Paisley, neither of us being married.
“One day this January past, I was at home with him when some gentlemen came to call. One of them was an old friend of my brother’s whom I had met before, Mr. Tom Browne.” She paused, her chin trembling. “He was a very bad influence on Adam, tempting him into gambling and drinking and such. I never liked to see him come.”
The Lord Advocate yawned. Tom Browne and Edward Stephens had been arrested as part of a ring of thieves terrorizing Edinburgh. Browne had turned on his fellow thieves in exchange for a King’s Pardon, and Stephens had already been found guilty and sentenced to hang. The ringleader of the thieves, William Fletcher, would have suffered the same, had he not fled town and washed up dead in the River Clyde.
Felix gave Campbell a reproving glance. “Pray continue, Miss Fergusson.”
She nodded solemnly. “Mr. Browne and the other fellows came to our house several times, always bringing parcels which they asked Adam to hold for them.” She turned toward the judges imploringly. “My brother is a good and decent man, and he wanted no trouble! He acted only to help an old friend, but I always knew that Tom Browne to be a bad sort. He were the one who brought the others to our house, those thieves. Adam is guilty of nothing but excessive affection for an old friend, and of trusting too much in the word of a lying traitor.”
Campbell rose. “What was in these parcels, Miss Fergusson?” So far it appeared she’d come to confirm her brother’s guilt, and he flashed a vaguely impatient glance at Felix.
“Why, I’ve no idea.” Miss Fergusson opened her big blue eyes wide, the picture of innocence. “None of them told me, sir, and Adam didn’t look. That would be betraying a confidence, and Adam’s an honest fellow.”
Felix was impressed in spite of himself. This woman should be on the stage. Campbell sat down and bent over his papers.
“I advised Adam to have nothing to do with them, but then one of the gentlemen went out of his way to win my regard. He began to bring me gifts, sir, and I—” She stopped, her chin wobbling. “I was taken in by his cruel lies, Your Honors!”
One of the gentlemen of the jury stirred. “What nature of gifts?”
Magdalen Fergusson bit her plump, pink lip. A tear hung from her long eyelashes. “Three gold rings, and a pair of shoe buckles. Some bolts of silk. I had two of them made up into dresses.”
“You claim your brother did not open the parcels these men left with him. Are you certain of that?” asked Felix.
“Of course Adam wouldn’t,” she exclaimed. “Mr. Hewitt’s not a man to cross!”
A stir rippled through the courtroom. The Lord Advocate’s head came up.
“Mr. Hewitt?” Felix furrowed his brow. “Do you not mean Edward Stephens, or William Fletcher?”
She shook her head. “No, sir. Mr. Liam Hewitt. He and Tom Browne were thick as thieves, and they were the men who brought those parcels to our home.”
Mr. Campbell was on his feet again as whispers swept the courtroom. “How did you know it was Liam Hewitt?”
“Why, he gave me his name as such, and Mr. Browne called him by it. I will describe him. He is about twenty-six years old, moderately tall, with brown hair and light brown eyes but much darker eyebrows. And—” She blushed again. “He has a crescent-shaped scar upon his chest, here.” She drew one hand down her throat to lay it on her left breast, capturing every man’s eye.
Mr. Campbell seemed stunned speechless, or perhaps was simply mesmerized by the way she touched her breast.
“Miss Fergusson, do you mean to suggest Mr. Hewitt was involved in the recent burglaries in Edinburgh?” demanded one of the judges.
“Involved! Why, he planned them,” she said, eyes wide and innocent. “He boasted of it to me, and he said we would be married so that I would never have to say a word against him in court.”
The stir became a dull roar. Campbell shot an accusing glare at Felix, who kept his somber, slightly troubled expression in place.
“How do you know Hewitt planned the robberies?” demanded someone from the jury.
“He told me how he did it. He was very proud of it.” Miss Fergusson turned a guileless gaze upon the judges. “He took the spare keys from the shops when no one was looking and made false keys from them. He’s one of the best locksmiths in Mr. Fletcher’s cabinetry shop, he said.”
“Wait, wait!” Campbell howled. “Mr. Hewitt is not on trial!”
“Perhaps he should be,” said Felix sotto voce.
The Lord Justice-Clerk held up his hands, scowling. “Miss Fergusson, confine your statement to this case.”
She nodded. “As you wish, Your Lordship. I only thought you should know who broke into all those shops and stole all those things, because it’s not right that Mr. Stephens will hang for them and Mr. Hewitt, who induced him to do it, is a free man, able to take up robbing and stealing again at any moment.”
Pandemonium broke out. Spectators were shouting, the clerk of court was calling for order, half the gentlemen of the jury were on their feet, pointing and arguing, and the judges were huddled together in furious conference. The Lord Advocate gave Felix a withering look and leaned toward him. “I do not appreciate being ambushed, Mr. Duncan.”
“I did try to speak to the Sheriff, but he refused to see me,” returned Felix. “I suspect he will now.”
Campbell snorted. “When did you approach him?”
“Yesterday.” Felix held up one hand at the Lord Advocate’s growl. “Miss Fergusson was hesitant to speak against a man not under arrest, and only decided she must when she saw the peril her brother was in.”
“So this is a woman spurned?” Campbell eyed her. Magdalen Fergusson still stood in the witness box, looking like innocence betrayed.
“A woman deceived and abused, coming virtuously to the aid of justice,” corrected Felix. “How do you think she knows what scar Hewitt has on his breast?”