Loftus made a movement across his mouth. “Code o’ silence, sir. You understand? All kinds o’ gents like their excitement a bit on the spicy side. Ruin ’alf o’ London if I were to speak out o’ turn, I could.”

“Not to mention your own future income, and that of the man behind the business, who will have to find another manager, now that Parfitt is dead. Could that be you, Mr. Loftus?”

Suddenly the courtroom was silent. All the small rustles of movement stopped. One could almost hear the rasp of breathing.

Rathbone rose to his feet. “My lord, Mr. Winchester is assuming facts that no one has proved. He keeps making suggestions as to this gray presence behind Parfitt, but no one has shown that he exists, let alone is going to pay Mr. Loftus for anything.”

“My lord, someone sent the letter of instruction to Mickey Parfitt, so that he was alone on his boat the night he was killed,” Winchester pointed out. “Someone put forward the money to buy and to furnish the boat. Someone found, watched, and then tempted the men susceptible to this kind of indulgence. Someone blackmailed them and drove at least one to suicide, and it appears, one to murder. And since Mr. Loftus has sworn that Rupert Cardew was a victim of this trade, and other witnesses have told us very graphically of his descent from bystander and gullible friend to witness of degraded and revolting scenes, it cannot have been him. One does not blackmail oneself.”

The judge considered for a moment, then lifted one heavy shoulder in a gesture of resignation.

“Mr. Winchester appears to be right, Sir Oliver. You cannot have it both ways with Mr. Cardew. Either he was the blackmailer or he was the victim who struck back.”

“My lord,” Rathbone bowed. “It seems to me beyond a reasonable doubt that Mickey Parfitt was a vile man who provided a ready path to total degradation, a depravity that must disgust all decent people. He charged his victims for it twice over: once to purchase it, and then a second time to keep themselves from the disgrace of having it known to their friends and to society in general. How he was able to target those vulnerable to such weakness we do not know. Many answers are imaginable. If there was indeed a mastermind behind it, we do not know who that is. Personally, I should like to see him hang, as I dare say so would you. But it is repulsive to me that in our disgust we should vent our anger by hanging the wrong man!”

There were smiles of approval in the gallery. One voice even cried out in agreement.

The judge looked around, but did not reprove him.