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The new arrival appeared to be around sixty, with short grey hair and old-fashioned side whiskers. Dressed in all black with black gloves and carrying his hat, he seemed quite agitated, scanning us as if trying to figure out who we were. Hume recognized him immediately and approached him.

“Morley, come with me. You’re here to talk to me, not this gentleman.”

I stepped in. “He asked for Mr. Ferguson, and that’s me. So it seems he wants to speak with me.”

“Don’t be absurd! You’re a stranger to him; it’s a mix-up. Morley, you know me, right?”

Morley looked at Hume with a dazed expression. “Yes, Dr. Hume, I know you very well.”

“You see? Step aside!”

“I won’t. And Hume, don’t try to stop my visitor from speaking. Got it?”

“I hear, but I won’t listen. Morley, don’t discuss your master’s private matters in front of strangers. I’ll protect his interests. Loose talk can cause serious trouble.”

“Fine, Hume. Talking to you is pointless. I’ll try a different approach.” I lifted Morley and carried him to the door. “You need a lesson in manners. Out you go!”

He landed in the corridor, and I locked the door as he protested outside.

“You’ll regret this!”

“Send me the bill; I’ll pay.”

“Morley, don’t speak to him or suffer the consequences.”

I turned to Morley. “Please, have a seat. Ignore our excitable friend. He’s a bit unhinged right now, as you can see. I’m John Ferguson, friend of Edwin Lawrence. You work for his brother, Philip, correct?”

Mr. Morley didn’t seem much calmer after the incident with Hume. He appeared torn between following the doctor’s orders to stay silent and being influenced by my handling of Hume’s behavior. It was like he couldn’t decide which side to lean on.

“Yes, I work for Mr. Philip, but maybe Dr. Hume is right. I shouldn’t talk about my master.”

“Maybe, Mr. Morley, but you’ve already spoken. You accused him of murder.”

“No, sir, not that!”

“Just now, in front of Dr. Hume and me, you said you believed Mr. Philip had killed Mr. Edwin.”

“Oh no, sir, I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean it at all.”

“Regardless of what you meant, that’s what you said. I don’t share your opinion, Mr. Morley. I don’t think Mr. Philip had anything to do with his brother’s death.”

“No, sir? I’m glad to hear it.”

“Soon, you’ll hear from Mr. Philip himself and get an explanation that clears everything up. Can you take me to him?”

Mr. Morley looked startled. “Take you to him? But—I don’t know where he is. Isn’t he here?”

He glanced around, half expecting to find Philip Lawrence hiding nearby.

“Are you saying your master hasn’t returned all night?”

“Yes, sir, that’s what I mean, and that’s why I’m so worried. He’s very punctual—never stays out all night without letting me know.”

He seemed genuinely concerned about Philip’s unusual absence.

“Where does Mr. Philip Lawrence live?”

“In Arlington Street; that’s his London address.”

“When did he leave?”

“After midnight, in a furious temper.”

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“Furious with whom?”

“Well, sir,”—Mr. Morley leaned closer, looking around cautiously—“I don’t usually gossip, but I need to tell someone. Maybe, since you’re Mr. Edwin’s friend, you’re Mr. Philip’s too.”

“Mr. Morley, whatever you share with me will stay with me. I assure you, I’m as trustworthy as Dr. Hume. I firmly believe your master is innocent. To prove it, we need the truth. If you have something to say that can shed light on this situation, please do so before it’s too late.”

“You won’t twist my words or harm him because of what I say?”

“I won’t do either.”

“Well, sir, I trust your judgment. You seem like someone I can trust, and I pride myself on being a good judge of character. And the way you handled Dr. Hume was”—he coughed—“impressive. I’ll tell you everything.”

His hesitation had a slightly comical side; it was clear something unusual had thrown him off balance.

“Good, Mr. Morley. Let’s be honest with each other. Please, take a seat.”

He sat on the edge of a chair, placing his hat beside him on the floor.

“Now, sir”—he stroked his chin thoughtfully—“Mr. Edwin had some issues, especially with money. Mr. Philip lent him a lot of money, but Mr. Edwin’s spending was a mystery. They had terrible fights.”

“Brothers often have disagreements.”

“But Mr. Edwin was usually at fault. Mr. Philip is hot-headed, but Mr. Edwin was in the wrong most of the time.”

Leaning closer, Mr. Morley whispered, “Once, Mr. Philip even hit him with a stick, broke it on his back. Mr. Edwin must’ve been bruised badly. Mr. Philip regretted it deeply afterward. He apologized, and Mr. Edwin forgave him, probably because he got more money out of it. Mr. Edwin was unforgiving unless there was something in it for him; he’d wait years to pay back what he thought was an injury, with interest.”

The look on Mr. Morley’s face didn’t exactly reflect forgiveness.

“This went on, with more fights. Lately, it got worse.”

He glanced around, whispering again, “There’s been trouble with bills. Mr. Edwin used Mr. Philip’s name without permission to get money. It’s not right.”

“Are you absolutely certain about this? I must echo Dr. Hume’s caution and urge you to proceed with care.”

“I’m certain, sir. I have every reason to be. Forgery, plain and simple. Mr. Philip let it all out in his anger, so it’s not a secret anymore. He’s been in a terrible state since he found out. Sometimes I wonder if he’s losing his mind.

“Yesterday afternoon, Mr. Edwin came to Arlington Street; there was a huge confrontation. I was there; I didn’t think they’d come to blows right in front of me. Then Mr. Philip turned on me. ‘Morley,’ he shouted, ‘my brother’s a thief! This isn’t news; you’ve heard it before. But he’s been stealing from me again, in new ways, and he’ll keep doing it until he ruins our family name. But before that happens, Morley, I’ll kill him. If he’s found dead, you’ll know who did it.’

“Then he faced Mr. Edwin. ‘You’ve been warned. Get out of this house before I throw you through the window, you scoundrel.’ And out he went, just in time, or I think Mr. Philip would have thrown him through the window.”

Mr. Morley wiped his brow with a red silk handkerchief. I thought back to the previous evening with Edwin Lawrence. He hadn’t shown any signs of trouble then; he was usually cynical, but he seemed carefree. The man described by Mr. Morley was a surprise to me.

Mr. Morley continued, “Later that night, around nine, a well-dressed man, likely Jewish, came to see Mr. Philip. He didn’t give his name and left a letter for him. When Mr. Philip came back around midnight, I gave him the letter. He flew into a rage and stormed out, saying he’d kill his brother. I stayed up all night, waiting for him. My wife and I were on edge, wondering if he was capable of murder.”

Mr. Morley wiped his brow again. “I was worried. Mr. Philip was in a terrible mood, likely from drinking and the letter. When he’s angry, he’s not himself—he’s like a madman capable of anything.”

“When morning came, and he still hadn’t returned, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I came here, and as soon as I arrived, they told me he had been murdered. Murdered! Murdered!” Mr. Morley kept repeating the word, as if finding some strange satisfaction in its horror.

I paced back and forth, trying to make sense of the story he had told. From his perspective, things looked grim for his master. Yet, deep down, I believed there was more to the story, something we hadn’t grasped yet. Once we uncovered that, it would show his deductions were off.

“Do you really think Philip did it?”

“No, Morley, I don’t. But if you’re not careful, your words might condemn him.”

“Condemn Philip? Me? No way, not even if he did harm Edwin.”

“Actually, if you’re not cautious, your words could hang him, even if he’s innocent. If you end up in court and say what you just told me, it wouldn’t take much to send him to the gallows.”

“Mr. Ferguson!”

“Morley, you shouldn’t have told me what you did. Luckily, I won’t misuse your information. But I advise you to keep quiet about it. Go home and forget all about it.”

“But—where’s Philip, sir?”

“That’s not your concern. Philip can handle himself. Just keep this to yourself if you care about his reputation.”

A loud knock interrupted us.

“Who’s there?”

“Inspector Symonds, from CID. Open up, Mr. Ferguson.”

“Well, Morley, here’s someone eager to hear your story. But if you value your master’s reputation and neck, keep silent until I say otherwise.”

I handed Morley a glass of brandy. He drank it quickly, coughing as it went down. Another knock came.

“Open up, Ferguson!”

“Coming. You seem in a rush, sir. These are private rooms; I don’t open for just anyone.”

As I opened the door, Hume and Symonds appeared. Hume tried to barge in, but I stopped him.

“Let’s keep the ‘edged tools’ outside.”

I closed the door on Hume, surprising him. Symonds turned to Morley.

“Your name’s Morley, right? What do you know about Edwin Lawrence’s murder?”

“Morley has nothing to say.”

“That’s for Morley to decide.”

“These are private premises, Inspector. Show me your warrant before you start interrogating my guest.”

Symonds hesitated, eyeing me uncertainly.