Edmond began recounting his life. His voyages to India and the eastern Mediterranean, his final voyage where Captain Leclerc died and entrusted him with a package to deliver to an important government official. He described meeting that official, who gave him a letter to deliver to someone named Noirtier in Paris. He told of returning to Marseilles, reuniting with his father, his engagement to Mercedes, and their wedding celebration, until his sudden arrest and imprisonment.
When Edmond finished, the priest sat in thoughtful silence for a long time.
Finally, he spoke. "There’s a useful principle that applies here. When trying to discover who committed a crime, first ask who would benefit from that crime. So, who would have gained from your disappearance?"
"No one! I was nobody important."
"Don’t say that. Everything is relative, my young friend. A king who stands in his successor’s way is just as much an obstacle as a worker who blocks his rival’s promotion. Everyone has their place in society’s hierarchy, and everyone faces competition and conflicting interests. Now, let’s apply this to your situation. You said you were about to become captain of your ship?"
"And you were engaged to a beautiful young woman?"
"Could anyone have wanted to prevent either of these things from happening? Let’s start with the ship. Who might not have wanted you to become captain?"
"I can’t believe anyone cared that much. The crew liked me. If they could have chosen their own captain, I think they would have picked me. There was only one person who disliked me. We’d had an argument, and I even challenged him to a fight, but he refused."
"Now we’re getting somewhere. What was his name?"
"What was his job on the ship?"
"He handled the cargo and supplies."
"If you’d become captain, would you have kept him in that position?"
"Not if I’d had a choice. I’d noticed "errors" in his financial records several times."
"Perfect! Now tell me, was anyone else present during your last conversation with Captain Leclerc?"
"Could anyone have overheard you?"
"Possibly. The cabin door was open, and... wait. Now I remember, Danglars walked past just as Captain Leclerc was giving me the package."
"Even better! Did you take anyone with you when you stopped at the island to deliver the package?"
"And someone there gave you a letter in return?"
"Yes, the government official."
"What did you do with that letter?"
"Put it in my document case."
"You had a document case with you? How would a sailor carry something that large?"
"You’re right, I left it on the ship."
"So you didn’t put the letter in the case until you returned to the ship?"
"What did you do with the letter while traveling back to the ship?"
"I carried it in my hand."
"So when you boarded your ship, everyone could see you holding a letter?"
"Including Danglars?"
"Yes, including Danglars."
"Now, try to remember every detail about your arrest. Do you recall the exact wording of the accusation against you?"
"I read it three times. It’s burned into my memory."
Edmond paused, then recited, "The prosecutor is informed by a loyal citizen that one Edmond Dantès, officer aboard the ship Pharaon, recently arrived from Smyrna after stopping at Naples and the island, has been entrusted by the exiled leader with a package for the usurper. Furthermore, the usurper gave him a letter for political conspirators in Paris. Proof can be obtained by immediate arrest, as the letter will be found on his person, at his father’s house, or in his cabin aboard the Pharaon."
The priest shook his head. "It’s obvious. You must have been very trusting not to see through this conspiracy."
"You really think so? That would be horrible."
"What kind of handwriting did Danglars usually have?"
"And how was the anonymous accusation written?"
"Backwards, like someone writing with their wrong hand."
The priest smiled grimly. "Disguised, obviously."
"It was very bold writing for a disguise."
"Wait," the priest said, picking up his makeshift pen. He dipped it in ink and wrote the first few words of the accusation using his left hand on a piece of prepared fabric.
Edmond stared in shock. "That’s incredible! Your writing looks exactly like the accusation!"
"Simply because the accusation was written left-handed. I’ve noticed that while everyone’s right-handed writing is unique, left-handed writing tends to look similar."
"You see everything clearly."
"Let’s continue. Now for the second question."
"Was there anyone who wanted to prevent your marriage to Mercedes?"
"Yes. A young man who loved her."
"That sounds Spanish."
"He was from Catalonia."
"Do you think he could have written the letter?"
"No way. He would have just stabbed me instead."
"That fits the Spanish character, they’ll commit murder without hesitation, but they won’t stoop to cowardly schemes."
"Besides," Edmond added, "he didn’t know about the details mentioned in the letter."
"You never told anyone about your mission?"
"Not even your fiancée?"
"Then it had to be Danglars."
"I’m certain of it now."
"Wait. Did Danglars know Fernand?"
"No... actually, yes. Now I remember, I saw them sitting together at a tavern the evening before my wedding. They were deep in conversation. Danglars seemed to be joking around, but Fernand looked pale and upset."
"There was a third man with them, someone I knew well. A tailor named Caderousse, but he was very drunk. Wait! How strange that I never thought of this before! There were pens, ink, and paper on their table!"
"Is there anything else I can help you discover about your so-called friends’ betrayal?" the priest asked with bitter humor. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel·fıre·net
"Yes!" Edmond said eagerly. "You see so clearly into everything. Please explain how I never got a second hearing, was never put on trial, and was condemned without ever receiving an official sentence?"
"That’s a much more serious and complex matter," the priest replied gravely. "What we’ve discussed so far was child’s play compared to this. If you want me to investigate the judicial conspiracy, you’ll need to give me every detail you can remember."