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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/76116-0.txt b/76116-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aceddc6 --- /dev/null +++ b/76116-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7804 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76116 *** + + + + + + THE BLUE + SCARAB + + BY + R. AUSTIN FREEMAN + AUTHOR OF + “THE SINGING BONE,” ETC. + + + + + NEW YORK + DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY + 1924 + + + + + [COPYRIGHT] + + Copyright, 1923, + By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc. + + Published, January, 1924 + Second Printing, January, 1924 + + + + + CONTENTS + + I. The Blue Scarab + II. The Case of the White Foot-Prints + III. The New Jersey Sphinx + IV. The Touchstone + V. A Fisher of Men + VI. The Stolen Ingots + VII. The Funeral Pyre + + + + + THE BLUE SCARAB + + I. + THE BLUE SCARAB + +Medico-legal practice is largely concerned with crimes against the +person, the details of which are often sordid, gruesome and +unpleasant. Hence the curious and romantic case of the Blue Scarab +(though really outside our specialty) came as somewhat of a relief. +But to me it is of interest principally as illustrating two of those +remarkable gifts which made my friend, Thorndyke, unique as an +investigator: his uncanny power of picking out the one essential fact +at a glance, and his capacity to produce, when required, inexhaustible +stores of unexpected knowledge of the most out-of-the-way subjects. + +It was late in the afternoon when Mr. James Blowgrave arrived, by +appointment, at our chambers, accompanied by his daughter, a rather +strikingly pretty girl of about twenty-two; and when we had mutually +introduced ourselves, the consultation began without preamble. + +“I didn’t give any details in my letter to you,” said Mr. Blowgrave. +“I thought it better not to, for fear you might decline the case. It +is really a matter of a robbery, but not quite an ordinary robbery. +There are some unusual and rather mysterious features in the case. And +as the police hold out very little hope, I have come to ask if you +will give me your opinion on the case and perhaps look into it for me. +But first I had better tell you how the affair happened. + +“The robbery occurred just a fortnight ago, about half-past nine +o’clock in the evening. I was sitting in my study with my daughter, +looking over some things that I had taken from a small deed-box, when +a servant rushed in to tell us that one of the outbuildings was on +fire. Now my study opens by a French window on the garden at the back, +and, as the outbuilding was in a meadow at the side of the garden, I +went out that way, leaving the French window open; but before going I +hastily put the things back in the deed-box and locked it. + +“The building--which I used partly as a lumber store and partly as a +workshop--was well alight and the whole household was already on the +spot, the boy working the pump and the two maids carrying the buckets +and throwing water on the fire. My daughter and I joined the party and +helped to carry the buckets and take out what goods we could reach +from the burning building. But it was nearly half an hour before we +got the fire completely extinguished, and then my daughter and I went +to our rooms to wash and tidy ourselves up. We returned to the study +together, and when I had shut the French window my daughter proposed +that we should resume our interrupted occupation. Thereupon I took out +of my pocket the key of the deed-box and turned to the cabinet on +which the box always stood. + +“But there was no deed-box there! + +“For a moment I thought I must have moved it, and cast my eyes round +the room in search of it. But it was nowhere to be seen, and a +moment’s reflection reminded me that I had left it in its usual place. +The only possible conclusion was that during our absence at the fire, +somebody must have come in by the window and taken it. And it looked +as if that somebody had deliberately set fire to the outbuilding for +the express purpose of luring us all out of the house.” + +“That is what the appearances suggest,” Thorndyke agreed. “Is the +study window furnished with a blind or curtains?” + +“Curtains,” replied Mr. Blowgrave. “But they were not drawn. Any one +in the garden could have seen into the room; and the garden is easily +accessible to an active person who could climb over a low wall.” + +“So far, then,” said Thorndyke, “the robbery might be the work of a +casual prowler who had got into the garden and watched you through the +window, and assuming that the things you had taken from the box were +of value, seized an easy opportunity to make off with them. Were the +things of any considerable value?” + +“To a thief they were of no value at all. There were a number of share +certificates, a lease, one or two agreements, some family photographs +and a small box containing an old letter and a scarab. Nothing worth +stealing, you see, for the certificates were made out in my name and +were therefore unnegotiable.” + +“And the scarab?” + +“That may have been lapis lazuli, but more probably it was a blue +glass imitation. In any case it was of no considerable value. It was +about an inch and a half long. But before you come to any conclusion, +I had better finish the story. The robbery was on Tuesday, the 7th of +June. I gave information to the police, with a description of the +missing property, but nothing happened until Wednesday, the 15th, when +I received a registered parcel bearing the Southampton postmark. On +opening it I found, to my astonishment, the entire contents of the +deed-box, with the exception of the scarab, and this rather mysterious +communication.” + +He took from his pocket-book and handed to Thorndyke an ordinary +envelope addressed in typewritten characters, and sealed with a large, +elliptical seal, the face of which was covered with minute +hieroglyphics. + +“This,” said Thorndyke, “I take to be an impression of the scarab; and +an excellent impression it is.” + +“Yes,” replied Mr. Blowgrave, “I have no doubt that it is the scarab. +It is about the same size.” + +Thorndyke looked quickly at our client with an expression of surprise. +“But,” he asked, “don’t you recognize the hieroglyphics on it?” + +Mr. Blowgrave smiled deprecatingly. “The fact is,” said he, “I don’t +know anything about hieroglyphics, but I should say, as far as I can +judge, these look the same. What do you think, Nellie?” + +Miss Blowgrave looked at the seal--rather vaguely--and replied, “I am +in the same position. Hieroglyphics are to me just funny-looking +things that don’t mean anything. But these look the same to me as +those on our scarab, though I expect any other hieroglyphics would, +for that matter.” + +Thorndyke made no comment on this statement, but examined the seal +attentively through his lens. Then he drew out the contents of the +envelope, consisting of two letters, one typewritten and the other in +a faded brown handwriting. The former he read through and then +inspected the paper closely, holding it up to the light to observe the +watermark. + +“The paper appears to be of Belgian manufacture,” he remarked, passing +it to me. I confirmed this observation and then read the letter, which +was headed “Southampton” and ran thus:-- + + + _Dear old pal,_ + + _I am sending you back some trifles removed in error. The ancient + document is enclosed with this, but the curio is at present in the + custody of my respected uncle. Hope its temporary loss will not + inconvenience you, and that I may be able to return it to you later. + Meanwhile, believe me,_ + + _Your ever affectionate, + Rudolpho._ + + +“Who is Rudolpho?” I asked. + +“The Lord knows,” replied Mr. Blowgrave. “A pseudonym of our absent +friend, I presume. He seems to be a facetious sort of person.” + +“He does,” agreed Thorndyke. “This letter and the seal appear to be +what the schoolboys would call a leg-pull. But still, this is all +quite normal. He has returned you the worthless things and has kept +the one thing that has any sort of negotiable value. Are you quite +clear that the scarab is not more valuable than you have assumed?” + +“Well,” said Mr. Blowgrave, “I have had an expert opinion on it. I +showed it to M. Fouquet, the Egyptologist, when he was over here from +Brussels a few months ago, and his opinion was that it was a worthless +imitation. Not only was it not a genuine scarab, but the inscription +was a sham, too; just a collection of hieroglyphic characters jumbled +together without sense or meaning.” + +“Then,” said Thorndyke, taking another look at the seal through his +lens, “it would seem that Rudolpho, or Rudolpho’s uncle, has got a bad +bargain. Which doesn’t throw much light on the affair.” + +At this point Miss Blowgrave intervened. “I think, father,” said she, +“you have not given Dr. Thorndyke quite all the facts about the +scarab. He ought to be told about its connection with Uncle Reuben.” + +As the girl spoke Thorndyke looked at her with a curious expression of +suddenly awakened interest. Later I understood the meaning of that +look, but at the time there seemed to me nothing particularly +arresting in her words. + +“It is just a family tradition,” Mr. Blowgrave said deprecatingly. +“Probably it is all nonsense.” + +“Well, let us have it, at any rate,” said Thorndyke. “We may get some +light from it.” + +Thus urged, Mr. Blowgrave hemmed a little shyly and began: + +“The story concerns my great-grandfather, Silas Blowgrave, and his +doings during the war with France. It seems that he commanded a +privateer, of which he and his brother Reuben were the joint owners, +and that in the course of their last cruise, they acquired a very +remarkable and valuable collection of jewels. Goodness knows how they +got them; not very honestly, I suspect, for they appear to have been a +pair of precious rascals. Something has been said about the loot from +a South American church or cathedral, but there is really nothing +known about the affair. There are no documents. It is mere oral +tradition and very vague and sketchy. The story goes that when they +had sold off the ship, they came down to live at Shawstead in +Hertfordshire, Silas occupying the manor house--in which I live at +present--and Reuben a farm-house adjoining. The bulk of the loot they +shared out at the end of the cruise, but the jewels were kept apart to +be dealt with later--perhaps when the circumstances under which they +had been acquired had been forgotten. However, both men were +inveterate gamblers, and it seems--according to the testimony of a +servant of Reuben’s who overheard them--that on a certain night when +they had been playing heavily, they decided to finish up by playing +for the whole collection of jewels as a single stake. Silas, who had +the jewels in his custody, was seen to go to the manor house and +return to Reuben’s house carrying a small, iron-bound chest. + +“Apparently they played late into the night, after every one else but +the servant had gone to bed, and the luck was with Reuben, though it +seems probable that he gave luck some assistance. At any rate, when +the play was finished and the chest handed over, Silas roundly accused +him of cheating, and we may assume that a pretty serious quarrel took +place. Exactly what happened is not clear, for when the quarrel began +Reuben dismissed the servant, who retired to her bedroom in a distant +part of the house. But in the morning it was discovered that Reuben +and the chest of jewels had both disappeared, and there were distinct +traces of blood in the room in which the two men had been playing. +Silas professed to know nothing about the disappearance; but a +strong--and probably just--suspicion arose that he had murdered his +brother and made away with the jewels. The result was that Silas also +disappeared, and for a long time his whereabouts was not known even by +his wife. Later it transpired that he had taken up his abode, under an +assumed name, in Egypt, and that he had developed an enthusiastic +interest in the then new science of Egyptology--the Rosetta Stone had +been deciphered only a few years previously. After a time he resumed +communication with his wife, but never made any statement as to the +mystery of his brother’s disappearance. A few months before his death +he visited his home in disguise and he then handed to his wife a +little sealed packet which was to be delivered to his only son, +William, on his attaining the age of twenty-one. That packet contained +the scarab and the letter which you have taken from the envelope.” + +“Am I to read it?” asked Thorndyke. + +“Certainly, if you think it worth while,” was the reply. + +Thorndyke opened the yellow sheet of paper and, glancing through the +brown and faded writing, read aloud: + + + _Cairo_, 4_th March_, 1833. + + _My dear Son,_ + + _I am sending you, as my last gift, a valuable scarab, and a few words + of counsel on which I would bid you meditate. Believe me, there is + much wisdom in the lore of Old Egypt. Make it your own. Treasure the + scarab as a precious inheritance. Handle it often but show it to none. + Give your Uncle Reuben Christian burial. It is your duty, and you will + have your reward. He robbed your father, but he shall make + restitution._ + + _Farewell!_ + + _Your affectionate father, + Silas Blowgrave._ + + +As Thorndyke laid down the letter he looked inquiringly at our client. + +“Well,” he said, “here are some plain instructions. How have they been +carried out?” + +“They haven’t been carried out at all,” replied Mr. Blowgrave. “As to +his son William, my grandfather, he was not disposed to meddle in the +matter. This seemed to be a frank admission that Silas killed his +brother and concealed the body, and William didn’t choose to reopen +the scandal. Besides, the instructions are not so very plain. It is +all very well to say, ‘Give your Uncle Reuben Christian burial,’ but +where the deuce is Uncle Reuben?” + +“It is plainly hinted,” said Thorndyke, “that whoever gives the body +Christian burial will stand to benefit, and the word ‘restitution’ +seems to suggest a clue to the whereabouts of the jewels. Has no one +thought it worth while to find out where the body is deposited?” + +“But how could they?” demanded Blowgrave. “He doesn’t give the +faintest clue. He talks as if his son knew where the body was. And +then, you know, even supposing Silas did not take the jewels with him, +there was the question, whose property were they? To begin with, they +were pretty certainly stolen property, though no one knows where they +came from. Then Reuben apparently got them from Silas by fraud, and +Silas got them back by robbery and murder. If William had discovered +them he would have had to give them up to Reuben’s sons, and yet they +weren’t strictly Reuben’s property. No one had an undeniable claim to +them, even if they could have found them.” + +“But that is not the case now,” said Miss Blowgrave. + +“No,” said Mr. Blowgrave, in answer to Thorndyke’s look of inquiry. +“The position is quite clear now. Reuben’s grandson, my cousin Arthur, +has died recently, and as he had no children, he has dispersed his +property. The old farm-house and the bulk of his estate he has left to +a nephew, but he made a small bequest to my daughter and named her as +the residuary legatee. So that whatever rights Reuben had to the +jewels are now vested in her, and on my death she will be Silas’s +heir, too. As a matter of fact,” Mr. Blowgrave continued, “we were +discussing this very question on the night of the robbery. I may as +well tell you that my girl will be left pretty poorly off when I go, +for there is a heavy mortgage on our property and mighty little +capital. Uncle Reuben’s jewels would have made the old home secure for +her if we could have laid our hands on them. However, I mustn’t take +up your time with our domestic affairs.” + +“Your domestic affairs are not entirely irrelevant,” said Thorndyke. +“But what is it that you want me to do in the matter?” + +“Well,” said Blowgrave, “my house has been robbed and my premises set +fire to. The police can apparently do nothing. They say there is no +clue at all unless the robbery was committed by somebody in the house, +which is absurd, seeing that the servants were all engaged in putting +out the fire. But I want the robber traced and punished, and I want to +get the scarab back. It may be intrinsically valueless, as M. Fouquet +said, but Silas’s testamentary letter seems to indicate that it had +some value. At any rate, it is an heirloom, and I am loath to lose it. +It seems a presumptuous thing to ask you to investigate a trumpery +robbery, but I should take it as a great kindness if you would look +into the matter.” + +“Cases of robbery pure and simple,” replied Thorndyke, “are rather +alien to my ordinary practice, but in this one there are certain +curious features that seem to make an investigation worth while. Yes, +Mr. Blowgrave, I will look into the case, and I have some hope that we +may be able to lay our hands on the robber, in spite of the apparent +absence of clues. I will ask you to leave both these letters for me to +examine more minutely, and I shall probably want to make an inspection +of the premises--perhaps to-morrow.” + +“Whenever you like,” said Blowgrave. “I am delighted that you are +willing to undertake the inquiry. I have heard so much about you from +my friend Stalker, of the Griffin Life Assurance Company, for whom you +have acted on several occasions.” + +“Before you go,” said Thorndyke, “there is one point that we must +clear up. Who is there besides yourselves that knows of the existence +of the scarab and this letter and the history attaching to them?” + +“I really can’t say,” replied Blowgrave. “No one has seen them but my +cousin Arthur. I once showed them to him, and he may have talked about +them in the family. I didn’t treat the matter as a secret.” + + * * * * * * * + +When our visitors had gone we discussed the bearings of the case. + +“It is quite a romantic story,” said I, “and the robbery has its +points of interest, but I am rather inclined to agree with the +police--there is mighty little to go on.” + +“There would have been less,” said Thorndyke, “if our sporting friend +hadn’t been so pleased with himself. That typewritten letter was a +piece of gratuitous impudence. Our gentleman overrated his security +and crowed too loud.” + +“I don’t see that there is much to be gleaned from the letter, all the +same,” said I. + +“I am sorry to hear you say that, Jervis,” he exclaimed, “because I +was proposing to hand the letter over to you to examine and report +on.” + +“I was only referring to the superficial appearances,” I said hastily. +“No doubt a detailed examination will bring something more distinctive +into view.” + +“I have no doubt it will,” he said, “and as there are reasons for +pushing on the investigation as quickly as possible, I suggest that +you get to work at once. I shall occupy myself with the old letter and +the envelope.” + +On this I began my examination without delay, and as a preliminary I +proceeded to take a facsimile photograph of the letter by putting it +in a large printing-frame with a sensitive plate and a plate of clear +glass. The resulting negative showed not only the typewritten +lettering, but also the watermark and wire lines of the paper, and a +faint grease spot. Next I turned my attention to the lettering itself, +and here I soon began to accumulate quite a number of identifiable +peculiarities. The machine was apparently a Corona, fitted with the +small “Elite” type, and the alignment was markedly defective. The +“lower case”--or small--“a” was well below the line, although the +capital “A” appeared to be correctly placed; the “u” was slightly +above the line, and the small “m” was partly clogged with dirt. + +Up to this point I had been careful to manipulate the letter with +forceps (although it had been handled by at least three persons, to my +knowledge), and I now proceeded to examine it for finger-prints. As I +could detect none by mere inspection, I dusted the back of the paper +with finely-powdered fuchsin, and distributed the powder by tapping +the paper lightly. This brought into view quite a number of +finger-prints, especially round the edges of the letter, and though +most of them were very faint and shadowy, it was possible to make out +the ridge pattern well enough for our purpose. Having blown off the +excess of powder, I took the letter to the room where the large +copying camera was set up, to photograph it before developing the +finger-prints on the front. But here I found our laboratory assistant, +Polton, in possession, with the sealed envelope fixed to the copying +easel. + +“I shan’t be a minute, sir,” said he. “The doctor wants an enlarged +photograph of this seal. I’ve got the plate in.” + +I waited while he made his exposure and then proceeded to take the +photograph of the letter, or rather of the finger-prints on the back +of it. When I had developed the negative I powdered the front of the +letter and brought out several more finger-prints--mostly thumbs this +time. They were a little difficult to see where they were imposed on +the lettering, but, as the latter was bright blue and the fuchsin +powder was red, this confusion disappeared in the photograph, in which +the lettering was almost invisible while the finger-prints were more +distinct than they had appeared to the eye. This completed my +examination, and when I had verified the make of typewriter by +reference to our album of specimens of typewriting, I left the +negatives for Polton to dry and print and went down to the +sitting-room to draw up my little report. I had just finished this and +was speculating on what had become of Thorndyke, when I heard his +quick step on the stair and a few moments later he entered with a roll +of paper in his hand. This he unrolled on the table, fixing it open +with one or two lead paper-weights, and I came round to inspect it, +when I found it to be a sheet of the Ordnance map on the scale of +twenty-five inches to the mile. + +“Here is the Blowgraves’ place,” said Thorndyke, “nearly in the middle +of the sheet. This is his house--Shawstead Manor--and that will +probably be the outbuilding that was on fire. I take it that the house +marked Dingle Farm is the one that Uncle Reuben occupied.” + +“Probably,” I agreed. “But I don’t see why you wanted this map if you +are going down to the place itself to-morrow.” + +“The advantage of a map,” said Thorndyke, “is that you can see all +over it at once and get the lie of the land well into your mind; and +you can measure all distances accurately and quickly with a scale and +a pair of dividers. When we go down to-morrow, we shall know our way +about as well as Blowgrave himself.” + +“And what use will that be?” I asked. “Where does the topography come +into the case?” + +“Well, Jervis,” he replied, “there is the robber, for instance; he +came from somewhere and he went somewhere. A study of the map may give +us a hint as to his movements. But here comes Polton ‘with the +documents,’ as poor Miss Flite would say. What have you got for us, +Polton?” + +“They aren’t quite dry, sir,” said Polton, laying four large bromide +prints on the table. “There’s the + + + image: img_017 + caption: + Thorndyke’s tracing of the impression of the Scarab + + +enlargement of the seal--ten by eight, mounted--and three unmounted +prints of Dr. Jervis’s.” + +Thorndyke looked at my photographs critically. “They’re excellent, +Jervis,” said he. “The finger-prints are perfectly legible, though +faint. I only hope some of them are the right ones. That is my left +thumb. I don’t see yours. The small one is presumably Miss +Blowgrave’s. We must take her finger-prints to-morrow, and her +father’s, too. Then we shall know if we have got any of the robber’s.” +He ran his eye over my report and nodded approvingly. “There is plenty +there to enable us to identify the typewriter if we can get hold of +it, and the paper is very distinctive. What do you think of the seal?” +he added, laying the enlarged photograph before me. + +“It is magnificent,” I replied, with a grin. “Perfectly monumental.” + +“What are you grinning at?” he demanded. + +“I was thinking that you seem to be counting your chickens in pretty +good time,” said I. “You are making elaborate preparations to identify +the scarab, but you are rather disregarding the classical advice of +the prudent Mrs. Glasse.” + +“I have a presentiment that we shall get that scarab,” said he. “At +any rate we ought to be in a position to identify it instantly and +certainly if we are able to get a sight of it.” + +“We are not likely to,” said I. “Still, there is no harm in providing +for the improbable.” + +This was evidently Thorndyke’s view, and he certainly made ample +provision for this most improbable contingency; for, having furnished +himself with a drawing-board and a sheet of tracing-paper, he pinned +the latter over the photograph on the board and proceeded, with a fine +pen and hectograph ink, to make a careful and minute tracing of the +intricate and bewildering hieroglyphic inscription on the seal. When +he had finished it he transferred it to a clay duplicator and took off +half a dozen copies, one of which he handed to me. I looked at it +dubiously and remarked: “You have said that the medical jurist must +make all knowledge his province. Has he got to be an Egyptologist, +too?” + +“He will be the better medical jurist if he is,” was the reply, of +which I made a mental note for my future guidance. But meanwhile +Thorndyke’s proceedings were, to me, perfectly incomprehensible. What +was his object in making this minute tracing? The seal itself was +sufficient for identification. I lingered awhile hoping that some +fresh development might throw a light on the mystery. But his next +proceeding was like to have reduced me to stupefaction. I saw him go +to the bookshelves and take down a book. As he laid it on the table I +glanced at the title, and when I saw that it was Raper’s “Navigation +Tables” I stole softly out into the lobby, put on my hat and went for +a walk. + +When I returned the investigation was apparently concluded, for +Thorndyke was seated in his easy chair, placidly reading “The Compleat +Angler.” On the table lay a large circular protractor, a +straight-edge, an architect’s scale and a sheet of tracing-paper on +which was a tracing in hectograph ink of Shawstead Manor. + +“Why did you make this tracing?” I asked. “Why not take the map +itself?” + +“We don’t want the whole of it,” he replied, “and I dislike cutting up +maps.” + + +By taking an informal lunch in the train, we arrived at Shawstead +Manor by half-past two. Our approach up the drive had evidently been +observed, for Blowgrave and his daughter were waiting at the porch to +receive us. The former came forward with outstretched hand, but a +distinctly woebegone expression, and exclaimed: “It is most kind of +you to come down; but alas! you are too late.” + +“Too late for what?” demanded Thorndyke. + +“I will show you,” replied Blowgrave, and seizing my colleague by the +arm, he strode off excitedly to a little wicket at the side of the +house, and, passing through it, hurried along a narrow alley that +skirted the garden wall and ended in a large meadow, at one end of +which stood a dilapidated windmill. Across this meadow he bustled, +dragging my colleague with him, until he reached a heap of +freshly-turned earth, where he halted and pointed tragically to a spot +where the turf had evidently been raised and untidily replaced. + +“There!” he exclaimed, stooping to pull up the loose turfs and thereby +exposing what was evidently a large hole, recently and hastily filled +in. “That was done last night or early this morning, for I walked over +this meadow only yesterday evening and there was no sign of disturbed +ground then.” + +Thorndyke stood looking down at the hole with a faint smile. “And what +do you infer from that?” he asked. + +“Infer!” shrieked Blowgrave. “Why, I infer that whoever dug this hole +was searching for Uncle Reuben and the lost jewels!” + +“I am inclined to agree with you,” Thorndyke said calmly. “He happened +to search in the wrong place, but that is his affair.” + +“The wrong place!” Blowgrave and his daughter exclaimed in unison. +“How do you know it is the wrong place?” + +“Because,” replied Thorndyke, “I believe I know the right place, and +this is not it. But we can put the matter to the test, and we had +better do so. Can you get a couple of men with picks and shovels? Or +shall we handle the tools ourselves?” + +“I think that would be better,” said Blowgrave, who was quivering with +excitement. “We don’t want to take any one into our confidence if we +can help it.” + +“No,” Thorndyke agreed. “Then I suggest that you fetch the tools while +I locate the spot.” + +Blowgrave assented eagerly and went off at a brisk trot, while the +young lady remained with us and watched Thorndyke with intense +curiosity. + +“I mustn’t interrupt you with questions,” said she, “but I can’t +imagine how you found out where Uncle Reuben was buried.” + +“We will go into that later,” he replied; “but first we have got to +find Uncle Reuben.” He laid his research-case down on the ground, and +opening it, took out three sheets of paper, each bearing a duplicate +of his tracing of the map; and on each was marked a spot on this +meadow from which a number of lines radiated like the spokes of a +wheel. + +“You see, Jervis,” he said, exhibiting them to me, “the advantage of a +map. I have been able to rule off these sets of bearings regardless of +obstructions, such as those young trees, which have arisen since +Silas’s day, and mark the spot in its correct place. If the recent +obstructions prevent us from taking the bearings, we can still find +the spot by measurements with the land-chain or tape.” + +“Why have you got three plans?” I asked. + +“Because there are three imaginable places. No. 1 is the most likely; +No. 2 less likely, but possible; No. 3 is impossible. That is the one +that our friend tried last night. No. 1 is among those young trees, +and we will now see if we can pick up the bearings in spite of them.” + +We moved on to the clump of young trees, where Thorndyke took from the +research-case a tall, folding camera-tripod and a large prismatic +compass with an aluminium dial. With the latter he took one or two +trial bearings and then, setting up the tripod, fixed the compass on +it. For some minutes Miss Blowgrave and I watched him as he shifted +the tripod from spot to spot, peering through the sight-vane of the +compass and glancing occasionally at the map. At length he turned to +us and said: + +“We are in luck. None of these trees interferes with our bearings.” He +took from the research-case a surveyor’s arrow, and sticking it in the +ground under the tripod, added: “That is the spot. But we may have to +dig a good way round it, for a compass is only a rough instrument.” + +At this moment Mr. Blowgrave staggered up, breathing hard, and flung +down on the ground three picks, two shovels and a spade. “I won’t +hinder you, Doctor, by asking for explanations,” said he, “but I am +utterly mystified. You must tell us what it all means when we have +finished our work.” + +This Thorndyke promised to do, but meanwhile he took off his coat, and +rolling up his shirt sleeves, seized the spade and began cutting out a +large square of turf. As the soil was uncovered, Blowgrave and I +attacked it with picks and Miss Blowgrave shovelled away the loose +earth. + +“Do you know how far down we have to go?” I asked. + +“The body lies six feet below the surface,” Thorndyke replied; and as +he spoke he laid down his spade, and taking a telescope from the +research-case, swept it round the margin of the meadow and finally +pointed it at a farm-house some six hundred yards distant, of which he +made a somewhat prolonged inspection, after which he took the +remaining pick and fell to work on the opposite corner of the exposed +square of earth. + +For nearly half an hour we worked on steadily, gradually eating our +way downwards, plying pick and shovel alternately, while Miss +Blowgrave cleared the loose earth away from the edges of the deepening +pit. Then a halt was called and we came to the surface, wiping our +faces. + +“I think, Nellie,” said Blowgrave, divesting himself of his waistcoat, +“a jug of lemonade and four tumblers would be useful, unless our +visitors would prefer beer.” + +We both gave our votes for lemonade, and Miss Nellie tripped away +towards the house, while Thorndyke, taking up his telescope, once more +inspected the farm-house. + +“You seem greatly interested in that house,” I remarked. + +“I am,” he replied, handing me the telescope. “Just take a look at the +window in the right hand gable, but keep under the tree.” + +I pointed the telescope at the gable and there observed an open window +at which a man was seated. He held a binocular glass to his eyes and +the instrument appeared to be directed at us. + +“We are being spied on, I fancy,” said I, passing the telescope to +Blowgrave, “but I suppose it doesn’t matter. This is your land, isn’t +it?” + +“Yes,” replied Blowgrave, “but still, we didn’t want any spectators. +That is Harold Bowker,” he added, steadying the telescope against a +tree, “my cousin Arthur’s nephew, whom I told you about as having +inherited the farm-house. He seems mighty interested in us; but small +things interest one in the country.” + +Here the appearance of Miss Nellie, advancing across the meadow with +an inviting looking basket, diverted our attention from our +inquisitive watcher. Six thirsty eyes were riveted on that basket +until it drew near and presently disgorged a great glass jug and four +tumblers, when we each took off a long and delicious draught and then +jumped down into the pit to resume our labours. + +Another half-hour passed. We had excavated in some places to nearly +the full depth and were just discussing the advisability of another +short rest when Blowgrave, who was working in one corner, uttered a +loud cry and stood up suddenly, holding something in his fingers. A +glance at the object showed it to be a bone, brown and earth-stained, +but evidently a bone. Evidently, too, a human bone, as Thorndyke +decided when Blowgrave handed it to him triumphantly. + +“We have been very fortunate,” said he, “to get so near at the first +trial. This is from the right great toe, so we may assume that the +skeleton lies just outside this pit, but we had better excavate +carefully in your corner and see exactly how the bones lie.” This he +proceeded to do himself, probing cautiously with the spade and +clearing the earth away from the corner. Very soon the remaining bones +of the right foot came into view and then the ends of the two +leg-bones and a portion of the left foot. + +“We can see now,” said he, “how the skeleton lies, and all we have to +do is to extend the excavation in that direction. But there is only +room for one to work down here. I think you and Mr. Blowgrave had +better dig down from the surface.” + +On this, I climbed out of the pit, followed reluctantly by Blowgrave, +who still held the little brown bone in his hand and was in a state of +wild excitement and exultation that somewhat scandalized his daughter. + +“It seems rather ghoulish,” she remarked, “to be gloating over poor +Uncle Reuben’s body in this way.” + +“I know,” said Blowgrave, “it isn’t reverent. But I didn’t kill Uncle +Reuben, you know, whereas--well it was a long time ago.” With this +rather inconsequent conclusion he took a draught of lemonade, seized +his pick and fell to work with a will. I, too, indulged in a draught +and passed a full tumbler down to Thorndyke. But before resuming my +labours I picked up the telescope and once more inspected the +farm-house. The window was still open, but the watcher had apparently +become bored with the not very thrilling spectacle. At any rate he had +disappeared. + +From this time onward every few minutes brought some discovery. First, +a pair of deeply rusted steel shoe buckles; then one or two buttons, +and presently a fine gold watch with a fob-chain and a bunch of seals, +looking uncannily new and fresh and seeming more fraught with tragedy +than even the bones themselves. In his cautious digging, Thorndyke was +careful not to disturb the skeleton; and looking down into the narrow +trench that was growing from the corner of the pit, I could see both +legs, with only the right foot missing, projecting from the miniature +cliff. Meanwhile our part of the trench was deepening rapidly, so that +Thorndyke presently warned us to stop digging and bade us come down +and shovel away the earth as he disengaged it. + +At length the whole skeleton, excepting the head, was uncovered, +though it lay undisturbed as it might have lain in its coffin. And +now, as Thorndyke picked away the earth around the head, we could see +that the skull was propped forward as if it rested on a high pillow. A +little more careful probing with the pick-point served to explain this +appearance. For as the earth fell away and disclosed the grinning +skull, there came into view the edge and iron-bound corners of a small +chest. + +It was an impressive spectacle; weird, solemn and rather dreadful. +There for over a century the ill-fated gambler had lain, his +mouldering head pillowed on the booty of unrecorded villainy, booty +that had been won by fraud, retrieved by violence, and hidden at last +by the final winner with the witness of his crime. + +“Here is a fine text for a moralist who would preach on the vanity of +riches,” said Thorndyke. + +We all stood silent for a while, gazing, not without awe, at the stark +figure that lay guarding the ill-gotten treasure. Miss Blowgrave--who +had been helped down when we descended--crept closer to her father and +murmured that it was “rather awful”; while Blowgrave himself displayed +a queer mixture of exultation and shuddering distaste. + +Suddenly the silence was broken by a voice from above, and we all +looked up with a start. A youngish man was standing on the brink of +the pit, looking down on us with very evident disapproval. + +“It seems that I have come just in the nick of time,” observed the +new-comer. “I shall have to take possession of that chest, you know, +and of the remains, too, I suppose. That is my ancestor, Reuben +Blowgrave.” + +“Well, Harold,” said Blowgrave, “you can have Uncle Reuben if you want +him. But the chest belongs to Nellie.” + +Here Mr. Harold Bowker--I recognized him now as the watcher from the +window--dropped down into the pit and advanced with something of a +swagger. + +“I am Reuben’s heir,” said he, “through my Uncle Arthur, and I take +possession of this property and the remains.” + +“Pardon me, Harold,” said Blowgrave, “but Nellie is Arthur’s residuary +legatee, and this is the residue of the estate.” + +“Rubbish!” exclaimed Bowker. “By the way, how did you find out where +he was buried?” + +“Oh, that was quite simple,” replied Thorndyke with unexpected +geniality. “I’ll show you the plan.” He climbed up to the surface and +returned in a few moments with the three tracings and his letter-case. +“This is how we located the spot.” He handed the plan marked No. 3 to +Bowker, who took it from him and stood looking at it with a puzzled +frown. + +“But this isn’t the place,” he said at length. + +“Isn’t it?” queried Thorndyke. “No, of course; I’ve given you the +wrong one. This is the plan.” He handed Bowker the plan marked No. 1, +and took the other from him, laying it down on a heap of earth. Then, +as Bowker pored gloomily over No. 1, he took a knife and a pencil from +his pocket, and with his back to our visitor, scraped the lead of the +pencil, letting the black powder fall on the plan that he had just +laid down. I watched him with some curiosity; and when I observed that +the black scrapings fell on two spots near the edges of the paper, a +sudden suspicion flashed into my mind, which was confirmed when I saw +him tap the paper lightly with his pencil, gently blow away the +powder, and quickly producing my photograph of the typewritten letter +from his case, hold it for a moment beside the plan. + +“This is all very well,” said Bowker, looking up from the plan, “but +how did you find out about these bearings?” + +Thorndyke swiftly replaced the letter in his case, and turning round, +replied, “I am afraid I can’t give you any further information.” + +“Can’t you, indeed!” Bowker exclaimed insolently. “Perhaps I shall +compel you to. But, at any rate, I forbid any of you to lay hands on +my property.” + +Thorndyke looked at him steadily and said in an ominously quiet tone: + +“Now, listen to me, Mr. Bowker. Let us have an end of this nonsense. +You have played a risky game and you have lost. How much you have lost +I can’t say until I know whether Mr. Blowgrave intends to prosecute.” + +“To prosecute!” shouted Bowker. “What the deuce do you mean by +prosecute?” + +“I mean,” said Thorndyke, “that on the 7th of June, after nine o’clock +at night, you entered the dwelling-house of Mr. Blowgrave and stole +and carried away certain of his goods and chattels. A part of them you +have restored, but you are still in possession of some of the stolen +property, to wit, a scarab and a deed-box.” + +As Thorndyke made this statement in his calm, level tones, Bowker’s +face blanched to a tallowy white, and he stood staring at my +colleague, the very picture of astonishment and dismay. But he fired a +last shot. + +“This is sheer midsummer madness,” he exclaimed huskily; “and you know +it.” + +Thorndyke turned to our host. “It is for you to settle, Mr. +Blowgrave,” said he. “I hold conclusive evidence that Mr. Bowker stole +your deed-box. If you decide to prosecute I shall produce that +evidence in court and he will certainly be convicted.” + +Blowgrave and his daughter looked at the accused man with an +embarrassment almost equal to his own. + +“I am astounded,” the former said at length; “but I don’t want to be +vindictive. Look here, Harold, hand over the scarab and we’ll say no +more about it.” + +“You can’t do that,” said Thorndyke. “The law doesn’t allow you to +compound a robbery. He can return the property if he pleases and you +can do as you think best about prosecuting. But you can’t make +conditions.” + +There was silence for some seconds; then, without another word, the +crestfallen adventurer turned, and scrambling up out of the pit, took +a hasty departure. + + +It was nearly a couple of hours later that, after a leisurely wash and +a hasty, nondescript meal, we carried the little chest from the +dining-room to the study. Here, when he had closed the French window +and drawn the curtains, Mr. Blowgrave produced a set of tools and we +fell to work on the iron fastenings of the chest. It was no light +task, though a century’s rust had thinned the stout bands, but at +length the lid yielded to the thrust of a long case-opener and rose +with a protesting creak. The chest was lined with a double thickness +of canvas, apparently part of a sail, and contained a number of small +leathern bags, which, as we lifted them out, one by one, felt as if +they were filled with pebbles. But when we untied the thongs of one +and emptied its contents into a wooden bowl, Blowgrave heaved a sigh +of ecstasy and Miss Nellie uttered a little scream of delight. They +were all cut stones, and most of them of exceptional size; rubies, +emeralds, sapphires, and a few diamonds. As to their value, we could +form but the vaguest guess; but Thorndyke, who was a fair judge of +gem-stones, gave it as his opinion that they were fine specimens of +their kind, though roughly cut, and that they had probably formed the +enrichment of some shrine. + +“The question is,” said Blowgrave, gazing gloatingly on the bowl of +sparkling gems, “what are we to do with them?” + +“I suggest,” said Thorndyke, “that Dr. Jervis stays here to-night to +help you to guard them and that in the morning you take them up to +London and deposit them at your bank.” + +Blowgrave fell in eagerly with this suggestion, which I seconded. +“But,” said he, “that chest is a queer-looking package to be carrying +abroad. Now, if we only had that confounded deed-box----” + +“There’s a deed-box on the cabinet behind you,” said Thorndyke. + +Blowgrave turned round sharply. “God bless us!” he exclaimed. “It has +come back the way it went. Harold must have slipped in at the window +while we were at tea. Well, I’m glad he has made restitution. When I +look at that bowl and think what he must have narrowly missed, I don’t +feel inclined to be hard on him. I suppose the scarab is inside--not +that it matters much now.” + +The scarab was inside in an envelope; and as Thorndyke turned it over +in his hand and examined the hieroglyphics on it through his lens, +Miss Blowgrave asked: “Is it of any value, Dr. Thorndyke? It can’t +have any connection with the secret of the hiding-place, because you +found the jewels without it. + +“By the way, Doctor, I don’t know whether it is permissible for me to +ask, but how on earth _did_ you find out where the jewels were hidden? +To me it looks like black magic.” + +Thorndyke laughed in a quiet, inward fashion. “There is nothing +magical about it,” said he. “It was a perfectly simple, +straightforward problem. But Miss Nellie is wrong. We had the scarab; +that is to say we had the wax impression of it, which is the same +thing. And the scarab was the key to the riddle. You see,” he +continued, “Silas’s letter and the scarab formed together a sort of +intelligence test.” + +“Did they?” said Blowgrave. “Then he drew a blank every time.” + +Thorndyke chuckled. “His descendants were certainly a little lacking +in enterprise,” he admitted. “Silas’s instructions were perfectly +plain and explicit. Whoever would find the treasure must first acquire +some knowledge of Egyptian lore and must study the scarab attentively. +It was the broadest of hints, but no one--excepting Harold Bowker, who +must have heard about the scarab from his Uncle Arthur--seems to have +paid any attention to it. + +“Now it happens that I have just enough elementary knowledge of the +hieroglyphic characters to enable me to spell them out when they are +used alphabetically; and as soon as I saw the seal, I could see that +these hieroglyphics formed English words. My attention was first +attracted by the second group of signs, which spelled the word +‘Reuben,’ and then I saw that the first group spelled ‘Uncle.’ Of +course, the instant I heard Miss Nellie speak of the connection +between the scarab and Uncle Reuben, the murder was out. I saw at a +glance that the scarab contained all the required information. Last +night I made a careful tracing of the hieroglyphics and then rendered +them into our own alphabet. This is the result.” + +He took from his letter-case and spread out on the table a duplicate +of the tracing which I had seen him make, and of which he had given me +a copy. But since I had last seen it, it had received an addition; +under each group of signs the equivalents in modern Roman lettering +had been written, and these made the following words: + + + “UNKL RUBN IS IN TH MILL FIELD SKS FT DOWN CHURCH SPIR NORTH TEN + THIRTY EAST DINGL SOUTH GABL NORTH ATY FORTY FIF WST GOD SAF KING + JORJ.” + + + image: img_035 + caption: + The transliteration of the hieroglyphics. + + +Our two friends gazed at Thorndyke’s transliteration in blank +astonishment. At length Blowgrave remarked: “But this translation must +have demanded a very profound knowledge of the Egyptian writing.” + +“Not at all,” replied Thorndyke. “Any intelligent person could master +the Egyptian alphabet in an hour. The language, of course, is quite +another matter. The spelling of this is a little crude, but it is +quite intelligible and does Silas great credit, considering how little +was known in his time.” + +“How do you suppose M. Fouquet came to overlook this?” Blowgrave +asked. + +“Naturally enough,” was the reply. “He was looking for an Egyptian +inscription. But this is not an Egyptian inscription. Does he speak +English?” + +“Very little. Practically not at all.” + +“Then, as the words are English words and imperfectly spelt, the +hieroglyphics must have appeared to him mere nonsense. And he was +right as to the scarab being an imitation.” + +“There is another point,” said Blowgrave. “How was it that Harold made +that extraordinary mistake about the place? The directions are clear +enough. All you had to do was to go out there with a compass and take +the bearings just as they were given.” + +“But,” said Thorndyke, “that is exactly what he did, and hence the +mistake. He was apparently unaware of the phenomenon known as the +Secular Variation of the Compass. As you know, the compass does +not--usually--point to true north, but to the Magnetic North; and the +Magnetic North is continually changing its position. When Reuben was +buried--about 1810--it was twenty-four degrees, twenty-six minutes +west of true north; at the present time it is fourteen degrees, +forty-eight minutes west of true north. So Harold’s bearings would be +no less than ten degrees out, which, of course, gave him a totally +wrong position. But Silas was a ship-master, a navigator, and of +course, knew all about the vagaries of the compass; and, as his +directions were intended for use at some date unknown to him, I +assumed that the bearings that he gave were true bearings--that when +he said ‘north’ he meant true north, which is always the same; and +this turned out to be the case. But I also prepared a plan with +magnetic bearings corrected up to date. Here are the three plans: No. +1--the one we used--showing true bearings; No. 2, showing corrected +magnetic bearings which might have given us the correct spot; and No. +3, with uncorrected magnetic bearings, giving us the spot where Harold +dug, and which could not possibly have been the right spot.” + + +On the following morning I escorted the deed-box, filled with the +booty and tied up and sealed with the scarab, to Mr. Blowgrave’s bank. +And that ended our connection with the case; excepting that, a month +or two later, we attended by request the unveiling in Shawstead +churchyard of a fine monument to Reuben Blowgrave. This took the +slightly inappropriate form of an obelisk, on which were cut the name +and approximate dates, with the added inscription: “Cast thy bread +upon the waters and it shall return after many days”; concerning which +Thorndyke remarked dryly that he supposed the exhortation applied +equally even if the bread happened to belong to some one else. + + + + + II. + THE CASE OF THE WHITE FOOT-PRINTS + +“Well,” said my friend Foxton, pursuing a familiar and apparently +inexhaustible topic, “I’d sooner have your job than my own.” + +“I’ve no doubt you would,” was my unsympathetic reply. “I never met a +man who wouldn’t. We all tend to consider other men’s jobs in terms of +their advantages and our own in terms of their drawbacks. It is human +nature.” + +“Oh, it’s all very well for you to be so beastly philosophical,” +retorted Foxton. “You wouldn’t be if you were in my place. Here, in +Margate, it’s measles, chicken-pox and scarlatina all the summer, and +bronchitis, colds and rheumatism all the winter. A deadly monotony. +Whereas you and Thorndyke sit there in your chambers and let your +clients feed you up with the raw material of romance. Why, your life +is a sort of everlasting Adelphi drama.” + +“You exaggerate, Foxton,” said I. “We, like you, have our routine +work, only it is never heard of outside the Law Courts; and you, like +every other doctor, must run up against mystery and romance from time +to time.” + +Foxton shook his head as he held out his hand for my cup. “I don’t,” +said he. “My practice yields nothing but an endless round of dull +routine.” + +And then, as if in commentary on this last statement, the housemaid +burst into the room and, with hardly dissembled agitation, exclaimed: + +“If you please, sir, the page from Beddingfield’s Boarding House says +that a lady has been found dead in her bed and would you go round +there immediately.” + +“Very well, Jane,” said Foxton, and as the maid retired, he +deliberately helped himself to another fried egg and, looking across +the table at me, exclaimed: “Isn’t that always the way? Come +immediately--now--this very instant, although the patient may have +been considering for a day or two whether he’ll send for you or not. +But directly he decides, you must spring out of bed, or jump up from +your breakfast, and run.” + +“That’s quite true,” I agreed; “but this really does seem to be an +urgent case.” + +“What’s the urgency?” demanded Foxton. “The woman is already dead. Any +one would think she was in imminent danger of coming to life again and +that my instant arrival was the only thing that could prevent such a +catastrophe.” + +“You’ve only a third-hand statement that she is dead,” said I. “It is +just possible that she isn’t; and even if she is, as you will have to +give evidence at the inquest, you don’t want the police to get there +first and turn out the room before you’ve made your inspection.” + +“Gad!” exclaimed Foxton. “I hadn’t thought of that. Yes. You’re right. +I’ll hop round at once.” + +He swallowed the remainder of the egg at a single gulp and rose from +the table. Then he paused and stood for a few moments looking down at +me irresolutely. + +“I wonder, Jervis,” he said, “if you would mind coming round with me. +You know all the medico-legal ropes, and I don’t. What do you say?” + +I agreed instantly, having, in fact, been restrained only by delicacy +from making the suggestion myself; and when I had fetched from my room +my pocket camera and telescopic tripod, we set forth together without +further delay. + +Beddingfield’s Boarding House was but a few minutes’ walk from +Foxton’s residence, being situated near the middle of Ethelred Road, +Cliftonville, a quiet, suburban street which abounded in similar +establishments, many of which, I noticed, were undergoing a +spring-cleaning and renovation to prepare them for the approaching +season. + +“That’s the house,” said Foxton, “where that woman is standing at the +front door. Look at the boarders, collected at the dining-room window. +There’s a rare commotion in that house, I’ll warrant.” + +Here, arriving at the house, he ran up the steps and accosted in +sympathetic tones the elderly woman who stood by the open street door. + +“What a dreadful thing this is, Mrs. Beddingfield! Terrible! Most +distressing for you!” + +“Ah, you’re right, Dr. Foxton,” she replied. “It’s an awful affair. +Shocking. So bad for business, too. I do hope and trust there won’t be +any scandal.” + +“I’m sure I hope not,” said Foxton. “There shan’t be if I can help it. +And as my friend, Dr. Jervis, who is staying with me for a few days, +is a lawyer as well as a doctor, we shall have the best advice. When +was the affair discovered?” + +“Just before I sent for you, Dr. Foxton. The maid noticed that Mrs. +Toussaint--that is the poor creature’s name--had not taken in her hot +water, so she knocked at the door. As she couldn’t get any answer, she +tried the door and found it bolted on the inside, and then she came +and told me. I went up and knocked loudly, and then, as I couldn’t get +any reply, I told our boy, James, to force the door open with a +case-opener, which he did quite easily as the bolt was only a small +one. Then I went in, all of a tremble, for I had a presentiment that +there was something wrong; and there she was, lying stone dead, with a +most ’orrible stare on her face and an empty bottle in her hand.” + +“A bottle, eh!” said Foxton. + +“Yes. She’d made away with herself, poor thing; and all on account of +some silly love affair--and it was hardly even that.” + +“Ah,” said Foxton. “The usual thing. You must tell us about that +later. Now we’d better go up and see the patient--at least +the--er--perhaps you’ll show us the room, Mrs. Beddingfield.” + +The landlady turned and preceded us up the stairs to the first-floor +back, where she paused, and softly opening a door, peered nervously +into the room. As we stepped past her and entered, she seemed inclined +to follow, but, at a significant glance from me, Foxton persuasively +ejected her and closed the door. Then we stood silent for a while and +looked about us. + +In the aspect of the room there was something strangely incongruous +with the tragedy that had been enacted within its walls; a mingling of +the commonplace and the terrible that almost amounted to anticlimax. +Through the wide-open window the bright spring sunshine streamed in on +the garish wall-paper and cheap furniture; from the street below, the +periodic shouts of a man selling “sole and mack-ro!” broke into the +brisk staccato of a barrel-organ and both sounds mingled with a +raucous voice close at hand, cheerfully trolling a popular song, and +accounted for by a linen-clad elbow that bobbed in front of the window +and evidently appertained to a house painter on an adjacent ladder. + +It was all very commonplace and familiar and discordantly out of +character with the stark figure that lay on the bed like a waxen +effigy symbolic of tragedy. Here was none of that gracious somnolence +in which death often presents itself with a suggestion of eternal +repose. This woman was dead; horribly, aggressively dead. The thin, +sallow face was rigid as stone, the dark eyes stared into infinite +space with a horrid fixity that was quite disturbing to look on. And +yet the posture of the corpse was not uneasy, being, in fact, rather +curiously symmetrical, with both arms outside the bed-clothes and both +hands closed, the right grasping, as Mrs. Beddingfield had said, an +empty bottle. + +“Well,” said Foxton, as he stood looking down on the dead woman, “it +seems a pretty clear case. She appears to have laid herself out and +kept hold of the bottle so that there should be no mistake. How long +do you suppose this woman has been dead, Jervis?” + +I felt the rigid limbs and tested the temperature of the body surface. + +“Not less than six hours,” I replied. “Probably more. I should say +that she died about two o’clock this morning.” + +“And that is about all we can say,” said Foxton, “until the +post-mortem has been made. Everything looks quite straightforward. No +signs of a struggle or marks of violence. That blood on the mouth is +probably due to her biting her lip when she drank from the bottle. +Yes; here’s a little cut on the inside of the lip, corresponding to +the upper incisors. By the way, I wonder if there is anything left in +the bottle.” + +As he spoke, he drew the small, unlabelled, green glass phial from the +closed hand--out of which it slipped quite easily--and held it up to +the light. + +“Yes,” he exclaimed, “there’s more than a drachm left; quite enough +for an analysis. But I don’t recognize the smell. Do you?” + +I sniffed at the bottle and was aware of a faint unfamiliar vegetable +odour. + +“No,” I answered. “It appears to be a watery solution of some kind, +but I can’t give it a name. Where is the cork?” + +“I haven’t seen it,” he replied. “Probably it is on the floor +somewhere.” + +We both stooped to look for the missing cork and presently found it in +the shadow, under the little bedside table. But, in the course of that +brief search, I found something else, which had indeed been lying in +full view all the time--a wax match. Now a wax match is a perfectly +innocent and very commonplace object, but yet the presence of this one +gave me pause. In the first place, women do not, as a rule, use wax +matches, though there was not much in that. What was more to the point +was that the candlestick by the bedside contained a box of safety +matches, and that, as the burned remains of one lay in the tray, it +appeared to have been used to light the candle. Then why the wax +match? + +While I was turning over this problem Foxton had corked the bottle, +wrapped it carefully in a piece of paper which he took from the +dressing table and bestowed it in his pocket. + +“Well, Jervis,” said he, “I think we’ve seen everything. The analysis +and the post-mortem will complete the case. Shall we go down and hear +what Mrs. Beddingfield has to say?” + +But that wax match, slight as was its significance, taken alone, had +presented itself to me as the last of a succession of phenomena each +of which was susceptible of a sinister interpretation, and the +cumulative effect of these slight suggestions began to impress me +somewhat strongly. + +“One moment, Foxton,” said I. “Don’t let us take anything for granted. +We are here to collect evidence, and we must go warily. There is such +a thing as homicidal poisoning, you know.” + +“Yes, of course,” he replied, “but there is nothing to suggest it in +this case; at least, I see nothing. Do you?” + +“Nothing very positive,” said I; “but there are some facts that seem +to call for consideration. Let us go over what we have seen. In the +first place, there is a distinct discrepancy in the appearance of the +body. The general easy, symmetrical posture, like that of a figure on +a tomb, suggests the effect of a slow, painless poison. But look at +the face. There is nothing reposeful about that. It is very strongly +suggestive of pain or terror or both.” + +“Yes,” said Foxton, “that is so. But you can’t draw any satisfactory +conclusions from the facial expression of dead bodies. Why, men who +have been hanged, or even stabbed, often look as peaceful as babes.” + +“Still,” I urged, “it is a fact to be noted. Then there is that cut on +the lip. It may have been produced in the way you suggest; but it may +equally well be the result of pressure on the mouth.” + +Foxton made no comment on this beyond a slight shrug of the shoulders, +and I continued: + +“Then there is the state of the hand. It was closed, but it did not +really grasp the object it contained. You drew the bottle out without +any resistance. It simply lay in the closed hand. But that is not a +normal state of affairs. As you know, when a person dies grasping any +object, either the hand relaxes and lets it drop, or the muscular +action passes into cadaveric spasm and grasps the object firmly. And +lastly, there is this wax match. Where did it come from? The dead +woman apparently lit her candle with a safety match from the box. It +is a small matter, but it wants explaining.” + +Foxton raised his eyebrows protestingly. “You’re like all specialists, +Jervis,” said he. “You see your specialty in everything. And while you +are straining these flimsy suggestions to turn a simple suicide into +murder, you ignore the really conclusive fact that the door was bolted +and had to be broken open before any one could get in.” + +“You are not forgetting, I suppose,” said I, “that the window was wide +open and that there were house painters about and possibly a ladder +left standing against the house.” + +“As to the ladder,” said Foxton, “that is a pure assumption; but we +can easily settle the question by asking that fellow out there if it +was or was not left standing last night.” + +Simultaneously we moved towards the window; but half-way we both +stopped short. For the question of the ladder had in a moment become +negligible. Staring up at us from the dull red linoleum which covered +the floor were the impressions of a pair of bare feet, imprinted in +white paint with the distinctness of a woodcut. There was no need to +ask if they had been made by the dead woman: they were unmistakably +the feet of a man, and large feet at that. Nor could there be any +doubt as to whence those feet had come. Beginning with startling +distinctness under the window, the tracks diminished rapidly in +intensity until they reached the carpeted portion of the room, where +they vanished abruptly; and only by the closest scrutiny was it +possible to detect the faint traces of the retiring tracks. + +Foxton and I stood for some moments gazing in silence at the sinister +white shapes; then we looked at one another. + +“You’ve saved me from a most horrible blunder, Jervis,” said Foxton. +“Ladder or no ladder, that fellow came in at the window; and he came +in last night, for I saw them painting these window-sills yesterday +afternoon. Which side did he come from, I wonder?” + +We moved to the window and looked out on the sill. A set of distinct, +though smeared impressions on the new paint gave unneeded confirmation +and showed that the intruder had approached from the left side, close +to which was a cast-iron stack-pipe, now covered with fresh green +paint. + +“So,” said Foxton, “the presence or absence of the ladder is of no +significance. The man got into the window somehow, and that’s all that +matters.” + +“On the contrary,” said I, “the point may be of considerable +importance in identification. It isn’t every one who could climb up a +stack-pipe, whereas most people could make shift to climb a ladder, +even if it were guarded by a plank. But the fact that the man took off +his boots and socks suggests that he came up by the pipe. If he had +merely aimed at silencing his foot-falls, he would probably have +removed his boots only.” + +From the window we turned to examine more closely the footprints on +the floor, and, while I took a series of measurements with my spring +tape, Foxton entered them in my notebook. + +“Doesn’t it strike you as rather odd, Jervis,” said he, “that neither +of the little toes has made any mark?” + +“It does indeed,” I replied. “The appearances suggest that the little +toes were absent, but I have never met with such a condition. Have +you?” + +“Never. Of course one is acquainted with the supernumerary toe +deformity, but I have never heard of congenitally deficient little +toes.” + +Once more we scrutinized the footprints, and even examined those on +the window-sill, obscurely marked on the fresh paint; but, exquisitely +distinct as were those on the linoleum, showing every wrinkle and +minute skin-marking, not the faintest hint of a little toe was to be +seen on either foot. + +“It’s very extraordinary,” said Foxton. “He has certainly lost his +little toes, if he ever had any. They couldn’t have failed to make +some mark. But it’s a queer affair. Quite a windfall for the police, +by the way; I mean for purposes of identification.” + +“Yes,” I agreed, “and having regard to the importance of the +footprints, I think it would be wise to get a photograph of them.” + +“Oh, the police will see to that,” said Foxton. “Besides, we haven’t +got a camera, unless you thought of using that little toy snapshotter +of yours.” + +As Foxton was no photographer I did not trouble to explain that my +camera, though small, had been specially made for scientific purposes. + +“Any photograph is better than none,” I said, and with this I opened +the tripod and set it over one of the most distinct of the footprints, +screwed the camera to the goose-neck, carefully framed the footprint +in the finder and adjusted the focus, finally making the exposure by +means of an Antinous release. This process I repeated four times, +twice on a right footprint and twice on a left. + +“Well,” Foxton remarked, “with all those photographs the police ought +to be able to pick up the scent.” + +“Yes, they’ve got something to go on; but they’ll have to catch their +hare before they can cook him. He won’t be walking about barefooted, +you know.” + +“No. It’s a poor clue in that respect. And now we may as well be off +as we’ve seen all there is to see. I think we won’t have much to say +to Mrs. Beddingfield. This is a police case, and the less I’m mixed up +in it the better it will be for my practice.” + +I was faintly amused at Foxton’s caution when considered by the light +of his utterances at the breakfast table. Apparently his appetite for +mystery and romance was easily satisfied. But that was no affair of +mine. I waited on the doorstep while he said a few--probably +evasive--words to the landlady and then, as we started off together in +the direction of the police station, I began to turn over in my mind +the salient features of the case. For some time we walked on in +silence, and must have been pursuing a parallel train of thought for, +when he at length spoke, he almost put my reflections into words. + +“You know, Jervis,” said he, “there ought to be a clue in those +footprints. I realize that you can’t tell how many toes a man has by +looking at his booted feet. But those unusual footprints ought to give +an expert a hint as to what sort of man to look for. Don’t they convey +any hint to you?” + +I felt that Foxton was right; that if my brilliant colleague, +Thorndyke, had been in my place, he would have extracted from those +footprints some leading fact that would have given the police a start +along some definite line of inquiry; and that belief, coupled with +Foxton’s challenge, put me on my mettle. + +“They offer no particular suggestions to me at this moment,” said I, +“but I think that, if we consider them systematically, we may be able +to draw some useful deductions.” + +“Very well,” said Foxton, “then let us consider them systematically. +Fire away. I should like to hear how you work these things out.” + +Foxton’s frankly spectatorial attitude was a little disconcerting, +especially as it seemed to commit me to a result that I was by no +means confident of attaining. I therefore began a little diffidently. + +“We are assuming that both the feet that made those prints were from +some cause devoid of little toes. That assumption--which is almost +certainly correct--we treat as a fact, and, taking it as our starting +point, the first step in the inquiry is to find some explanation of +it. Now there are three possibilities, and only three: deformity, +injury and disease. The toes may have been absent from birth, they may +have been lost as a result of mechanical injury, or they may have been +lost by disease. Let us take those possibilities in order. + +“Deformity we exclude since such a malformation is unknown to us. + +“Mechanical injury seems to be excluded by the fact that the two +little toes are on opposite sides of the body and could not +conceivably be affected by any violence which left the intervening +feet uninjured. This seems to narrow the possibilities down to +disease; and the question that arises is, What diseases are there +which might result in the loss of both little toes?” + +I looked inquiringly at Foxton, but he merely nodded encouragingly. +His rôle was that of listener. + +“Well,” I pursued, “the loss of both toes seems to exclude local +disease, just as it excluded local injury; and as to general diseases, +I can think only of three which might produce this +condition--Raynaud’s disease, ergotism, and frost-bite.” + +“You don’t call frost-bite a general disease, do you?” objected +Foxton. + +“For our present purpose, I do. The effects are local, but the +cause--low external temperature--affects the whole body and is a +general cause. Well, now, taking the diseases in order, I think we can +exclude Raynaud’s disease. It does, it is true, occasionally cause the +fingers or toes to die and drop off, and the little toes would be +especially liable to be affected as being most remote from the heart. +But in such a severe case the other toes would be affected. They would +be shrivelled and tapered, whereas, if you remember, the toes of these +feet were quite plump and full, to judge by the large impressions they +made. So I think we may safely reject Raynaud’s disease. There remain +ergotism and frost-bite; and the choice between them is just a +question of relative frequency. Frost-bite is more common; therefore +frost-bite is more probable.” + +“Do they tend equally to affect the little toes?” asked Foxton. + +“As a matter of probability, yes. The poison of ergot acting from +within, and intense cold acting from without, contract the small +blood-vessels and arrest the circulation. The feet, being the most +distant parts of the body from the heart, are the first to feel the +effects; and the little toes, which are the most distant parts of the +feet, are the most susceptible of all.” + +Foxton reflected awhile, and then remarked: + +“This is all very well, Jervis, but I don’t see that you are much +forrarder. This man has lost both his little toes, and on your +showing, the probabilities are that the loss was due either to chronic +ergot poisoning or to frost-bite, with a balance of probability in +favour of frost-bite. That’s all. No proof, no verification. Just the +law of probability applied to a particular case, which is always +unsatisfactory. He may have lost his toes in some totally different +way. But even if the probabilities work out correctly, I don’t see +what use your conclusions would be to the police. They wouldn’t tell +them what sort of man to look for.” + +There was a good deal of truth in Foxton’s objection. A man who has +suffered from ergotism or frost-bite is not externally different from +any other man. Still, we had not exhausted the case, as I ventured to +point out. + +“Don’t be premature, Foxton,” said I. “Let us pursue our argument a +little farther. We have established a probability that this unknown +man has suffered either from ergotism or frost-bite. That, as you say, +is of no use by itself; but supposing we can show that these +conditions tend to affect a particular class of persons, we shall have +established a fact that will indicate a line of investigation. And I +think we can. Let us take the case of ergotism first. + +“Now how is chronic ergot poisoning caused? Not by the medicinal use +of the drug, but by the consumption of the diseased rye in which ergot +occurs. It is therefore peculiar to countries in which rye is used +extensively as food. Those countries, broadly speaking, are the +countries of North Eastern Europe, and especially Russia and Poland. + +“Then take the case of frost-bite. Obviously the most likely person to +get frost-bitten is the inhabitant of a country with a cold climate. +The most rigorous climates inhabited by white people are North America +and North Eastern Europe, especially Russia and Poland. So you see, +the areas associated with ergotism and frost-bite overlap to some +extent. In fact they do more than overlap; for a person even slightly +affected by ergot would be specially liable to frost-bite, owing to +the impaired circulation. The conclusion is that, racially, in both +ergotism and frost-bite, the balance of probability is in favour of a +Russian, a Pole, or a Scandinavian. + +“Then in the case of frost-bite there is the occupation factor. What +class of men tend most to become frost-bitten? Well, beyond all doubt, +the greatest sufferers from frost-bite are sailors, especially those +on sailing ships, and, naturally, on ships trading to arctic and +sub-arctic countries. But the bulk of such sailing ships are those +engaged in the Baltic and Archangel trade; and the crews of those +ships are almost exclusively Scandinavians, Finns, Russians and Poles. +So that, again, the probabilities point to a native of North Eastern +Europe, and, taken as a whole, by the overlapping of factors, to a +Russian, a Pole, or a Scandinavian.” + +Foxton smiled sardonically. “Very ingenious, Jervis,” said he. “Most +ingenious. As an academic statement of probabilities, quite excellent. +But for practical purposes absolutely useless. However, here we are at +the police station. I’ll just run in and give them the facts and then +go on to the coroner’s office.” + +“I suppose I’d better not come in with you?” I said. + +“Well, no,” he replied. “You see, you have no official connection with +the case, and they mightn’t like it. You’d better go and amuse +yourself while I get the morning’s visits done. We can talk things +over at lunch.” + +With this he disappeared into the police station, and I turned away +with a smile of grim amusement. Experience is apt to make us a trifle +uncharitable, and experience had taught me that those who are the most +scornful of academic reasoning are often not above retailing it with +some reticence as to its original authorship. I had a shrewd suspicion +that Foxton was at this very moment disgorging my despised “academic +statement of probabilities” to an admiring police-inspector. + +My way towards the sea lay through Ethelred Road, and I had traversed +about half its length and was approaching the house of the tragedy +when I observed Mrs. Beddingfield at the bay window. Evidently she +recognized me, for a few moments later she appeared in outdoor clothes +on the doorstep and advanced to meet me. + +“Have you seen the police?” she asked as we met. I replied that Dr. +Foxton was even now at the police station. + +“Ah!” she said, “it’s a dreadful affair; most unfortunate, too, just +at the beginning of the season. A scandal is absolute ruin to a +boarding-house. What do you think of the case? Will it be possible to +hush it up? Dr. Foxton said you were a lawyer, I think, Dr. Jervis?” + +“Yes, I am a lawyer, but really I know nothing of the circumstances of +this case. Did I understand that there had been something in the +nature of a love affair?” + +“Yes--at least--well, perhaps I oughtn’t to have said that. But hadn’t +I better tell you the whole story?--that is, if I am not taking up too +much of your time.” + +“I should be interested to hear what led to the disaster,” said I. + +“Then,” she said, “I will tell you all about it. Will you come +indoors, or shall I walk a little way with you?” + +As I suspected that the police were at that moment on their way to the +house, I chose the latter alternative and led her away seawards at a +pretty brisk pace. + +“Was this poor lady a widow?” I asked as we started up the street. + +“No, she wasn’t,” replied Mrs. Beddingfield, “and that was the +trouble. Her husband was abroad--at least, he had been, and he was +just coming home. A pretty home-coming it will be for him, poor man. +He is an officer in the civil police at Sierra Leone, but he hasn’t +been there long. He went there for his health.” + +“What! To Sierra Leone!” I exclaimed, for the “White Man’s Grave” +seemed a queer health resort. + +“Yes. You see, Mr. Toussaint is a French Canadian, and it seems that +he has always been somewhat of a rolling stone. For some time he was +in the Klondike, but he suffered so much from the cold that he had to +come away. It injured his health very severely; I don’t quite know in +what way, but I do know that he was quite a cripple for a time. When +he got better he looked out for a post in a warm climate and +eventually obtained the appointment of Inspector of Civil Police at +Sierra Leone. That was about ten months ago, and when he sailed for +Africa his wife came to stay with me, and has been here ever since.” + +“And this love affair that you spoke of?” + +“Yes, but I oughtn’t to have called it that. Let me explain what +happened. About three months ago a Swedish gentleman--a Mr. +Bergson--came to stay here, and he seemed to be very much smitten with +Mrs. Toussaint.” + +“And she?” + +“Oh, she liked him well enough. He is a tall, good-looking man--though +for that matter he is no taller than her husband, nor any better +looking. Both men are over six feet. But there was no harm so far as +she was concerned, excepting that she didn’t see the position quite +soon enough. She wasn’t very discreet, in fact I thought it necessary +to give her a little advice. However, Mr. Bergson left here and went +to live at Ramsgate to superintend the unloading of the ice ships (he +came from Sweden in one), and I thought the trouble was at an end. But +it wasn’t, for he took to coming over to see Mrs. Toussaint, and of +course I couldn’t have that. So at last I had to tell him that he +mustn’t come to the house again. It was very unfortunate, for on that +occasion I think he had been ‘tasting,’ as they say in Scotland. He +wasn’t drunk, but he was excitable and noisy, and when I told him he +mustn’t come again he made such a disturbance that two of the +gentlemen boarders--Mr. Wardale and Mr. Macauley--had to interfere. +And then he was most insulting to them, especially to Mr. Macauley, +who is a coloured gentleman; called him a ‘buck nigger’ and all sorts +of offensive names.” + +“And how did the coloured gentleman take it?” + +“Not very well, I am sorry to say, considering that he is a +gentleman--a law student with chambers in the Temple. In fact, his +language was so objectionable that Mr. Wardale insisted on my giving +him notice on the spot. But I managed to get him taken in next door +but one; you see, Mr. Wardale had been a Commissioner at Sierra +Leone--it was through him that Mr. Toussaint got his appointment--so I +suppose he was rather on his dignity with coloured people.” + +“And was that the last you heard of Mr. Bergson?” + +“He never came here again, but he wrote several times to Mrs. +Toussaint, asking her to meet him. At last, only a few days ago, she +wrote to him and told him that the acquaintance must cease.” + +“And has it ceased?” + +“As far as I know, it has.” + +“Then, Mrs. Beddingfield,” said I, “what makes you connect the affair +with--with what has happened?” + +“Well, you see,” she explained, “there is the husband. He was coming +home, and is probably in England already.” + +“Indeed!” said I. + +“Yes,” she continued. “He went up into the bush to arrest some natives +belonging to one of these gangs of murderers--Leopard Societies, I +think they are called--and he got seriously wounded. He wrote to his +wife from hospital, saying that he would be sent home as soon as he +was fit to travel, and about ten days ago she got a letter from him +saying that he was coming by the next ship. + +“I noticed that she seemed very nervous and upset when she got the +letters from hospital, and still more so when the last letter came. Of +course, I don’t know what he said to her in those letters. It may be +that he had heard something about Mr. Bergson, and threatened to take +some action. Of course, I can’t say. I only know that she was very +nervous and restless, and when we saw in the paper four days ago that +the ship he would be coming by had arrived in Liverpool, she seemed +dreadfully upset. And she got worse and worse until--well, until last +night.” + +“Has anything been heard of the husband since the ship arrived?” I +asked. + +“Nothing whatever,” replied Mrs. Beddingfield, with a meaning look at +me which I had no difficulty in interpreting. “No letter, no telegram, +not a word. And you see, if he hadn’t come by that ship he would +almost certainly have sent a letter by her. He must have arrived in +England, but why hasn’t he turned up, or at least sent a wire? What is +he doing? Why is he staying away? Can he have heard something? And +what does he mean to do? That’s what kept the poor thing on wires, and +that, I feel certain, is what drove her to make away with herself.” + +It was not my business to contest Mrs. Beddingfield’s erroneous +deductions. I was seeking information--it seemed that I had nearly +exhausted the present source. But one point required amplifying. + +“To return to Mr. Bergson, Mrs. Beddingfield,” said I. “Do I +understand that he is a seafaring man?” + +“He was,” she replied. “At present he is settled at Ramsgate as +manager of a company in the ice trade, but formerly he was a sailor. I +have heard him say that he was one of the crew of an exploring ship +that went in search of the North Pole and that he was locked up in the +ice for months and months. I should have thought he would have had +enough of ice after that.” + +With this view I expressed warm agreement, and having now obtained all +the information that appeared to be available, I proceeded to bring +the interview to an end. + +“Well, Mrs. Beddingfield,” I said, “it is a rather mysterious affair. +Perhaps more light may be thrown on it at the inquest. Meanwhile, I +should think that it will be wise of you to keep your own counsel as +far as outsiders are concerned.” + +The remainder of the morning I spent pacing the smooth stretch of sand +that lies to the east of the jetty, and reflecting on the evidence +that I had acquired in respect of this singular crime. Evidently there +was no lack of clues in this case. On the contrary, there were two +quite obvious lines of inquiry, for both the Swede and the missing +husband presented the characters of the hypothetical murderer. Both +had been exposed to the conditions which tend to produce frost-bite; +one of them had probably been a consumer of rye meal, and both might +be said to have a motive--though, to be sure, it was a very +insufficient one--for committing the crime. Still, in both cases the +evidence was merely speculative; it suggested a line of investigation, +but it did nothing more. + +When I met Foxton at lunch I was sensible of a curious change in his +manner. His previous expansiveness had given place to marked reticence +and a certain official secretiveness. + +“I don’t think, you know, Jervis,” he said, when I opened the subject, +“that we had better discuss this affair. You see, I am the principal +witness, and while the case is _sub judice_--well, in fact the police +don’t want the case talked about.” + +“But surely I am a witness, too, and an expert witness, moreover----” + +“That isn’t the view of the police. They look on you as more or less +of an amateur, and as you have no official connection with the case, I +don’t think they propose to subpœna you. Superintendent Platt, who is +in charge of the case, wasn’t very pleased at my having taken you to +the house. Said it was quite irregular. Oh, and by the way, he says +you must hand over those photographs.” + +“But isn’t Platt going to have the footprints photographed on his own +account?” I objected. + +“Of course he is. He is going to have a set of proper photographs +taken by an expert photographer;--he was mightily amused when he heard +about your little snapshot affair. Oh, you can trust Platt. He is a +great man. He has had a course of instruction at the Finger Print +Department in London.” + +“I don’t see how that is going to help him, as there aren’t any finger +prints in this case.” This was a mere fly-cast on my part, but Foxton +rose at once at the rather clumsy bait. + +“Oh, aren’t there?” he exclaimed. “You didn’t happen to spot them, but +they were there. Platt has got the prints of a complete right hand. +This is in strict confidence, you know,” he added, with somewhat +belated caution. + +Foxton’s sudden reticence restrained me from uttering the obvious +comment on the superintendent’s achievement. I returned to the subject +of the photographs. + +“Supposing I decline to hand over my film?” said I. + +“But I hope you won’t--and in fact you mustn’t. I am officially +connected with the case, and I’ve got to live with these people. As +the police-surgeon, I am responsible for the medical evidence, and +Platt expects me to get those photographs from you. Obviously you +can’t keep them. It would be most irregular.” + +It was useless to argue. Evidently the police did not want me to be +introduced into the case, and after all, the superintendent was within +his rights, if he chose to regard me as a private individual and to +demand the surrender of the film. + +Nevertheless I was loath to give up the photographs, at least, until I +had carefully studied them. The case was within my own specialty of +practice, and was a strange and interesting one. Moreover, it appeared +to be in unskilful hands, judging from the finger-print episode, and +then experience had taught me to treasure up small scraps of chance +evidence, since one never knew when one might be drawn into a case in +a professional capacity. In effect, I decided not to give up the +photographs, though that decision committed me to a ruse that I was +not very willing to adopt. I would rather have acted quite +straightforwardly. + +“Well, if you insist, Foxton,” I said, “I will hand over the film or, +if you like, I will destroy it in your presence.” + +“I think Platt would rather have the film uninjured,” said Foxton. +“Then he’ll know, you know,” he added, with a sly grin. + +In my heart, I thanked Foxton for that grin. It made my own guileful +proceedings so much easier; for a suspicious man invites you to get +the better of him if you can. + +After lunch I went up to my room, locked the door and took the little +camera from my pocket. Having fully wound up the film, I extracted it, +wrapped it up carefully and bestowed it in my inside breast-pocket. +Then I inserted a fresh film, and going to the open window, took four +successive snapshots of the sky. This done, I closed the camera, +slipped it into my pocket, and went downstairs. Foxton was in the +hall, brushing his hat, as I descended, and at once renewed his +demand. + +“About those photographs, Jervis,” said he, “I shall be looking in at +the police station presently, so if you wouldn’t mind----” + +“To be sure,” said I. “I will give you the film now, if you like.” + +Taking the camera from my pocket, I solemnly wound up the remainder of +the film, extracted it, stuck down the loose end with ostentatious +care, and handed it to him. + +“Better not expose it to the light,” I said, going the whole hog of +deception, “or you may fog the exposures.” + +Foxton took the spool from me as if it were hot--he was not a +photographer--and thrust it into his hand-bag. He was still thanking +me quite profusely when the front-door bell rang. + +The visitor who stood revealed when Foxton opened the door was a +small, spare gentleman with a complexion of the peculiar brown-papery +quality that suggests long residence in the Tropics. He stepped in +briskly and introduced himself and his business without preamble. + +“My name is Wardale--boarder at Beddingfield’s. I’ve called with +reference to the tragic event which----” + +Here Foxton interposed in his frostiest official tone. “I am afraid, +Mr. Wardale, I can’t give you any information about the case at +present.” + +“I saw you two gentlemen at the house this morning,” Mr. Wardale +continued, but Foxton again cut him short. + +“You did. We were there--or at least, I was--as the representative of +the Law, and while the case is _sub judice_----” + +“It isn’t yet,” interrupted Wardale. + +“Well, I can’t enter into any discussion of it----” + +“I am not asking you to,” said Wardale, a little impatiently. “But I +understand that one of you is Dr. Jervis.” + +“I am,” said I. + +“I must really warn you,” Foxton began again; but Mr. Wardale +interrupted testily: + +“My dear sir, I am a lawyer and a magistrate and understand perfectly +well what is and what is not permissible. I have come simply to make a +professional engagement with Dr. Jervis.” + +“In what way can I be of service to you?” I asked. + +“I will tell you,” said Mr. Wardale. “This poor lady, whose death has +occurred in so mysterious a manner, was the wife of a man who was, +like myself, a servant of the Government of Sierra Leone. I was the +friend of both of them; and in the absence of the husband, I should +like to have the inquiry into the circumstances of this lady’s death +watched by a competent lawyer with the necessary special knowledge of +medical evidence. Will you or your colleague, Dr. Thorndyke, undertake +to watch the case for me?” + +Of course I was willing to undertake the case and said so. + +“Then,” said Mr. Wardale, “I will instruct my solicitor to write to +you and formally retain you in the case. Here is my card. You will +find my name in the Colonial Office List, and you know my address +here.” + +He handed me his card, wished us both good afternoon, and then, with a +stiff little bow, turned and took his departure. + +“I think I had better run up to town and confer with Thorndyke,” said +I. “How do the trains run?” + +“There is a good train in about three-quarters of an hour,” replied +Foxton. + +“Then I will go by it, but I shall come down again to-morrow or the +next day, and probably Thorndyke will come down with me.” + +“Very well,” said Foxton. “Bring him in to lunch or dinner, but I +can’t put him up, I am afraid.” + +“It would be better not,” said I. “Your friend, Platt, wouldn’t like +it. He won’t want Thorndyke--or me either for that matter. And what +about those photographs? Thorndyke will want them, you know.” + +“He can’t have them,” said Foxton doggedly, “unless Platt is willing +to hand them back; which I don’t suppose he will be.” + +I had private reasons for thinking otherwise, but I kept them to +myself; and as Foxton went forth on his afternoon round, I returned +upstairs to pack my suit-case and write the telegram to Thorndyke +informing him of my movements. + + +It was only a quarter past five when I let myself into our chambers in +King’s Bench Walk. To my relief I found my colleague at home and our +laboratory assistant, Polton, in the act of laying tea for two. + +“I gather,” said Thorndyke, as we shook hands, “that my learned +brother brings grist to the mill?” + +“Yes,” I replied. “Nominally a watching brief, but I think you will +agree with me that it is a case for independent investigation.” + +“Will there be anything in my line, sir?” inquired Polton, who was +always agog at the word “investigation.” + +“There is a film to be developed. Four exposures of white footprints +on a dark ground.” + +“Ah!” said Polton, “you’ll want good strong negatives and they ought +to be enlarged if they are from the little camera. Can you give me the +dimensions?” + +I wrote out the measurements from my notebook and handed him the paper +together with the spool of film, with which he retired gleefully to +the laboratory. + +“And now, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, “while Polton is operating on the +film and we are discussing our tea, let us have a sketch of the case.” + +I gave him more than a sketch, for the events were recent and I had +carefully sorted out the facts during my journey to town, making rough +notes which I now consulted. To my rather lengthy recital he listened +in his usual attentive manner, without any comment, excepting in +regard to my manœuvre to retain possession of the exposed film. + +“It’s almost a pity you didn’t refuse,” said he. “They could hardly +have enforced their demand, and my feeling is that it is more +convenient as well as more dignified to avoid direct deception unless +one is driven to it. But perhaps you considered that you were.” + +As a matter of fact I had at the time, but I had since come to +Thorndyke’s opinion. My little manœuvre was going to be a source of +inconvenience presently. + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, when I had finished my recital, “I think we +may take it that the police theory is, in the main, your own theory +derived from Foxton.” + +“I think so, excepting that I learned from Foxton that Superintendent +Platt has obtained the complete finger-prints of a right hand.” + +Thorndyke raised his eyebrows. “Finger-prints!” he exclaimed. “Why the +fellow must be a mere simpleton. But there,” he added, +“everybody--police, lawyers, judges, even Galton himself--seems to +lose every vestige of common sense as soon as the subject of +finger-prints is raised. But it would be interesting to know how he +got them and what they are like. We must try to find that out. +However, to return to your case, since your theory and the police +theory are probably the same, we may as well consider the value of +your inferences. + +“At present we are dealing with the case in the abstract. Our data are +largely assumptions, and our inferences are largely derived from an +application of the mathematical laws of probability. Thus we assume +that a murder has been committed, whereas it may turn out to have been +suicide. We assume the murder to have been committed by the person who +made the footprints, and we assume that that person has no little +toes, whereas he may have retracted little toes which do not touch the +ground and so leave no impression. Assuming the little toes to be +absent, we account for their absence by considering known causes in +the order of their probability. Excluding--quite properly, I +think--Raynaud’s disease, we arrive at frost-bite and ergotism. But +two persons, both of whom are of a stature corresponding to the size +of the footprints, may have had a motive--though a very inadequate +one--for committing the crime, and both have been exposed to the +conditions which tend to produce frost-bite, while one of them has +probably been exposed to the conditions which tend to produce +ergotism. The laws of probability point to both of these two men; and +the chances in favour of the Swede being the murderer rather than the +Canadian would be represented by the common +factor--frost-bite--multiplied by the additional factor, ergotism. But +this is purely speculative at present. There is no evidence that +either man has ever been frost-bitten or has ever eaten spurred rye. +Nevertheless, it is a perfectly sound method at this stage. It +indicates a line of investigation. If it should transpire that either +man has suffered from frost-bite or ergotism, a definite advance would +have been made. But here is Polton with a couple of finished prints. +How on earth did you manage it in the time, Polton?” + +“Why, you see, sir, I just dried the film with spirit,” replied +Polton. “It saves a lot of time. I will let you have a pair of +enlargements in about a quarter of an hour.” + +Handing us the two wet prints, each stuck on a glass plate, he retired +to the laboratory, and Thorndyke and I proceeded to scrutinize the +photographs with the aid of our pocket lenses. The promised +enlargements were really hardly necessary excepting for the purpose of +comparative measurements, for the image of the white footprint, fully +two inches long, was so microscopically sharp that, with the +assistance of the lens, the minutest detail could be clearly seen. + +“There is certainly not a vestige of little toe,” remarked Thorndyke, +“and the plump appearance of the other toes supports your rejection of +Raynaud’s disease. Does the character of the footprint convey any +other suggestion to you, Jervis?” + +“It gives me the impression that the man had been accustomed to go +bare-footed in early life and had only taken to boots comparatively +recently. The position of the great toe suggests this, and the +presence of a number of small scars on the toes and ball of the foot +seems to confirm it. A person walking barefoot would sustain +innumerable small wounds from treading on small, sharp objects.” + +Thorndyke looked dissatisfied. “I agree with you,” he said, “as to the +suggestion offered by the undeformed state of the great toes; but +those little pits do not convey to me the impression of scars +produced, as you suggest. Still, you may be right.” + +Here our conversation was interrupted by a knock on the outer oak. +Thorndyke stepped out through the lobby and I heard him open the door. +A moment or two later he re-entered, accompanied by a short, +brown-faced gentleman whom I instantly recognized as Mr. Wardale. + +“I must have come up by the same train as you,” he remarked, as we +shook hands, “and to a certain extent, I suspect, on the same errand. +I thought I would like to put our arrangement on a business footing, +as I am a stranger to both of you.” + +“What do you want us to do?” asked Thorndyke. + +“I want you to watch the case, and, if necessary, to look into the +facts independently.” + +“Can you give us any information that may help us?” + +Mr. Wardale reflected. “I don’t think I can,” he said at length. “I +have no facts that you have not, and any surmises of mine might be +misleading. I had rather you kept an open mind. But perhaps we might +go into the question of costs.” + +This, of course, was somewhat difficult, but Thorndyke contrived to +indicate the probable liabilities involved to Mr. Wardale’s +satisfaction. + +“There is one other little matter,” said Wardale as he rose to depart. +“I have got a suit-case here which Mrs. Beddingfield lent me to bring +some things up to town. It is one that Mr. Macauley left behind when +he went away from the boarding-house. Mrs. Beddingfield suggested that +I might leave it at his chambers when I had finished with it; but I +don’t know his address, excepting that it is somewhere in the Temple, +and I don’t want to meet the fellow if he should happen to have come +up to town.” + +“Is it empty?” asked Thorndyke. + +“Excepting for a suit of pyjamas and a pair of shocking old slippers.” +He opened the suit-case as he spoke and exhibited its contents with a +grin. + +“Characteristic of a negro, isn’t it? Pink silk pyjamas and slippers +about three sizes too small.” + +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “I will get my man to find out the +address and leave it there.” + +As Mr. Wardale went out, Polton entered with the enlarged photographs, +which showed the footprints the natural size. Thorndyke handed them to +me, and as I sat down to examine them he followed his assistant to the +laboratory. He returned in a few minutes, and after a brief inspection +of the photographs, remarked: + +“They show us nothing more than we have seen, though they may be +useful later. So your stock of facts is all we have to go on at +present. Are you going home to-night?” + +“Yes, I shall go back to Margate to-morrow.” + +“Then, as I have to call at Scotland Yard, we may as well walk to +Charing Cross together.” + +As we walked down the Strand we gossiped on general topics, but before +we separated at Charing Cross, Thorndyke reverted to the case. + +“Let me know the date of the inquest,” said he, “and try to find out +what the poison was--if it was really a poison.” + +“The liquid that was left in the bottle seemed to be a watery solution +of some kind,” said I, “as I think I mentioned.” + +“Yes,” said Thorndyke. “Possibly a watery infusion of strophanthus.” + +“Why strophanthus?” I asked. + +“Why not?” demanded Thorndyke. And with this and an inscrutable smile, +he turned and walked down Whitehall. + + +Three days later I found myself at Margate sitting beside Thorndyke in +a room adjoining the Town Hall, in which the inquest on the death of +Mrs. Toussaint was to be held. Already the coroner was in his chair, +the jury were in their seats and the witnesses assembled in a group of +chairs apart. These included Foxton, a stranger who sat by +him--presumably the other medical witness--Mrs. Beddingfield, Mr. +Wardale, the police superintendent and a well-dressed coloured man, +whom I correctly assumed to be Mr. Macauley. + +As I sat by my rather sphinx-like colleague my mind recurred for the +hundredth time to his extraordinary powers of mental synthesis. That +parting remark of his as to the possible nature of the poison had +brought home to me in a flash the fact that he already had a definite +theory of this crime, and that his theory was not mine nor that of the +police. True, the poison might not be strophanthus, after all, but +that would not alter the position. He had a theory of the crime, but +yet he was in possession of no facts excepting those with which I had +supplied him. Therefore those facts contained the material for a +theory, whereas I had deduced from them nothing but the bald, +ambiguous mathematical probabilities. + +The first witness called was naturally Dr. Foxton, who described the +circumstances already known to me. He further stated that he had been +present at the autopsy, that he had found on the throat and limbs of +the deceased, bruises that suggested a struggle and violent restraint. +The immediate cause of death was heart failure, but whether that +failure was due to shock, terror, or the action of a poison he could +not positively say. + +The next witness was a Dr. Prescott, an expert pathologist and +toxicologist. He had made the autopsy and agreed with Dr. Foxton as to +the cause of death. He had examined the liquid contained in the bottle +taken from the hand of the deceased and found it to be a watery +infusion or decoction of strophanthus seeds. He had analyzed the fluid +contained in the stomach and found it to consist largely of the same +infusion. + +“Is infusion of strophanthus seeds used in medicine?” the coroner +asked. + +“No,” was the reply. “The tincture is the form in which strophanthus +is administered unless it is given in the form of strophanthin.” + +“Do you consider that the strophanthus caused, or contributed to +death?” + +“It is difficult to say,” replied Dr. Prescott. “Strophanthus is a +heart poison, and there was a very large poisonous dose. But very +little had been absorbed, and the appearances were not inconsistent +with death from shock.” + +“Could death have been self-produced by the voluntary taking of the +poison?” asked the coroner. + +“I should say, decidedly not. Dr. Foxton’s evidence shows that the +bottle was almost certainly placed in the hands of the deceased after +death, and this is in complete agreement with the enormous dose and +small absorption.” + +“Would you say that appearances point to suicidal or homicidal +poisoning?” + +“I should say that they point to homicidal poisoning, but that death +was probably due mainly to shock.” + +This concluded the expert’s evidence. It was followed by that of Mrs. +Beddingfield, which brought out nothing new to me but the fact that a +trunk had been broken open and a small attaché case belonging to the +deceased abstracted and taken away. + +“Do you know what the deceased kept in that case?” the coroner asked. + +“I have seen her put her husband’s letters into it. She had quite a +number of them. I don’t know what else she kept in it except, of +course, her cheque book.” + +“Had she any considerable balance at the bank?” + +“I believe she had. Her husband used to send most of his pay home and +she used to pay it in and leave it with the bank. She might have two +or three hundred pounds to her credit.” + +As Mrs. Beddingfield concluded, Mr. Wardale was called, and he was +followed by Mr. Macauley. The evidence of both was quite brief and +concerned entirely with the disturbance made by Bergson, whose absence +from the court I had already noted. + +The last witness was the police superintendent, and he, as I had +expected, was decidedly reticent. He did refer to the footprints but, +like Foxton--who presumably had his instructions--he abstained from +describing their peculiarities. Nor did he say anything about +finger-prints. As to the identity of the criminal, that had to be +further inquired into. Suspicion had at first fastened upon Bergson, +but it had since transpired that the Swede sailed from Ramsgate on an +ice-ship two days before the occurrence of the tragedy. Then suspicion +had pointed to the husband, who was known to have landed at Liverpool +four days before the death of his wife and who had mysteriously +disappeared. But he (the superintendent) had only that morning +received a telegram from the Liverpool police informing him that the +body of Toussaint had been found floating in the Mersey, and that it +bore a number of wounds of an apparently homicidal character. +Apparently he had been murdered and his corpse thrown into the river. + +“This is very terrible,” said the coroner. “Does this second murder +throw any light on the case which we are investigating?” + +“I think it does,” replied the officer, without any great conviction, +however, “but it is not advisable to go into details.” + +“Quite so,” agreed the coroner. “Most inexpedient. But are we to +understand that you have a clue to the perpetrator of this +crime--assuming a crime to have been committed?” + +“Yes,” replied Platt. “We have several important clues.” + +“And do they point to any particular individual?” + +The superintendent hesitated. “Well--” he began, with some +embarrassment, but the coroner interrupted him. + +“Perhaps the question is indiscreet. We mustn’t hamper the police, +gentlemen, and the point is not really material to our inquiry. You +would rather we waived that question, Superintendent?” + +“If you please, sir,” was the emphatic reply. + +“Have any cheques from the deceased woman’s cheque-book been presented +at the bank?” + +“Not since her death. I inquired at the bank only this morning.” + +This concluded the evidence, and after a brief but capable summing-up +by the coroner, the jury returned a verdict of “wilful murder against +some person unknown.” + +As the proceedings terminated, Thorndyke rose and turned round, and +then to my surprise I perceived Superintendent Miller, of the Criminal +Investigation Department, who had come in unperceived by me and was +sitting immediately behind us. + +“I have followed your instructions, sir,” said he, addressing +Thorndyke, “but before we take any definite action I should like to +have a few words with you.” + +He led the way to an adjoining room and, as we entered, we were +followed by Superintendent Platt and Dr. Foxton. + +“Now, Doctor,” said Miller, carefully closing the door, “I have +carried out your suggestions. Mr. Macauley is being detained, but +before we commit ourselves to an arrest, we must have something to go +upon. I shall want you to make out a prima facie case.” + +“Very well,” said Thorndyke, laying upon the table the small, green +suit-case that was his almost invariable companion. + +“I’ve seen that prima facie case before,” Miller remarked with a grin, +as Thorndyke unlocked it and drew out a large envelope. “Now, what +have you got there?” + +As Thorndyke extracted from the envelope Polton’s enlargements of my +small photographs, Platt’s eyes appeared to bulge, while Foxton gave +me a quick glance of reproach. + +“These,” said Thorndyke, “are the full-sized photographs of the +footprints of the suspected murderer. Superintendent Platt can +probably verify them.” + +Rather reluctantly Platt produced from his pocket a pair of +whole-plate photographs, which he laid beside the enlargements. + +“Yes,” said Miller, after comparing them, “they are the same +footprints. But you say, Doctor, that they are Macauley’s footprints. +Now, what evidence have you?” + +Thorndyke again had recourse to the green case, from which he produced +two copper plates mounted on wood and coated with printing ink. + +“I propose,” said he, lifting the plates out of their protecting +frame, “that we take prints of Macauley’s feet and compare them with +the photographs.” + +“Yes,” said Platt. “And then there are the finger-prints that we’ve +got. We can test those, too.” + +“You don’t want finger-prints if you’ve got a set of toe-prints,” +objected Miller. + +“With regard to those finger-prints,” said Thorndyke. “May I ask if +they were obtained from the bottle?” + +“They were,” Platt admitted. + +“And were there any other finger-prints?” + +“No,” replied Platt. “These were the only ones.” + +As he spoke he laid on the table a photograph showing the prints of +the thumb and fingers of a right hand. + +Thorndyke glanced at the photograph and, turning to Miller, said: + +“I suggest that those are Dr. Foxton’s finger-prints.” + +“Impossible!” exclaimed Platt, and then suddenly fell silent. + +“We can soon see,” said Thorndyke, producing from the case a pad of +white paper. “If Dr. Foxton will lay the finger-tips of his right hand +first on this inked plate and then on the paper, we can compare the +prints with the photograph.” + +Foxton placed his fingers on the blackened plate and then pressed them +on the paper pad, leaving on the latter four beautifully clear, black +finger-prints. These Superintendent Platt scrutinized eagerly, and as +his glance travelled from the prints to the photographs, he broke into +a sheepish grin. + +“Sold again!” he muttered. “They are the same prints.” + +“Well,” said Miller in a tone of disgust, “you must have been a mug +not to have thought of that when you knew that Dr. Foxton had handled +the bottle.” + +“The fact, however, is important,” said Thorndyke. “The absence of any +finger-prints but Dr. Foxton’s not only suggests that the murderer +took the precaution to wear gloves, but especially it proves that the +bottle was not handled by the deceased during life. A suicide’s hands +will usually be pretty moist and would leave conspicuous, if not very +clear, impressions.” + +“Yes,” agreed Miller, “that is quite true. But with regard to these +footprints. We can’t compel this man to let us examine his feet +without arresting him. Don’t think, Dr. Thorndyke, that I suspect you +of guessing. I’ve known you too long for that. You’ve got your facts +all right, I don’t doubt, but you must let us have enough to justify +our arrest.” + +Thorndyke’s answer was to plunge once more into the inexhaustible +green case, from which he now produced two objects wrapped in tissue +paper. The paper being removed, there was revealed what looked like a +model of an excessively shabby pair of brown shoes. + +“These,” said Thorndyke, exhibiting the “models” to Superintendent +Miller--who viewed them with an undisguised grin--“are plaster casts +of the interiors of a pair of slippers--very old and much too +tight--belonging to Mr. Macauley. His name was written inside them. +The casts have been waxed and painted with raw umber, which has been +lightly rubbed off, thus accentuating the prominences and depressions. +You will notice that the impressions of the toes on the soles and of +the ‘knuckles’ on the uppers appear as prominences; in fact we have in +these casts a sketchy reproduction of the actual feet. + +“Now, first as to dimensions. Dr. Jervis’s measurements of the +footprints give us ten inches and three-quarters as the extreme length +and four inches and five-eighths as the extreme width at the heads of +the metatarsus. On these casts, as you see, the extreme length is ten +inches and five-eighths--the loss of one-eighth being accounted for by +the curve of the sole--and the extreme width is four inches and a +quarter--three-eighths being accounted for by the lateral compression +of a tight slipper. The agreement of the dimensions is remarkable, +considering the unusual size. And now as to the peculiarities of the +feet. You notice that each toe has made a perfectly distinct +impression on the sole, excepting the little toe, of which there is no +trace in either cast. And, turning to the uppers, you notice that the +knuckles of the toes appear quite distinct and prominent--again +excepting the little toes, which have made no impression at all. Thus +it is not a case of retracted little toes, for they would appear as an +extra prominence. Then, looking at the feet as a whole, it is evident +that the little toes are absent; there is a distinct hollow where +there should be a prominence.” + +“M’yes,” said Miller dubiously, “it’s all very neat. But isn’t it just +a bit speculative?” + +“Oh, come, Miller,” protested Thorndyke; “just consider the facts. +Here is a suspected murderer known to have feet of an unusual size and +presenting a very rare deformity; and here are a pair of feet of that +same unusual size and presenting that same rare deformity; and they +are the feet of a man who had actually lived in the same house as the +murdered woman and who, at the date of the crime, was living only two +doors away. What more would you have?” + +“Well, there is the question of motive,” objected Miller. + +“That hardly belongs to a prima facie case,” said Thorndyke. “But even +if it did, is there not ample matter for suspicion? Remember who the +murdered woman was, what her husband was, and who this Sierra Leone +gentleman is.” + +“Yes, yes; that’s true,” said Miller somewhat hastily, either +perceiving the drift of Thorndyke’s argument (which I did not), or +being unwilling to admit that he was still in the dark. “Yes, we’ll +have the fellow in and get his actual footprints.” + +He went to the door and, putting his head out, made some sign, which +was almost immediately followed by a trampling of feet, and Macauley +entered the room, followed by two large plain-clothes policemen. The +negro was evidently alarmed, for he looked about him with the wild +expression of a hunted animal. But his manner was aggressive and +truculent. + +“Why am I being interfered with in this impertinent manner?” he +demanded in the deep, buzzing voice characteristic of the male negro. + +“We want to have a look at your feet, Mr. Macauley,” said Miller. +“Will you kindly take off your shoes and socks?” + +“No,” roared Macauley. “I’ll see you damned first.” + +“Then,” said Miller, “I arrest you on a charge of having murdered----” + +The rest of the sentence was drowned in a sudden uproar. The tall, +powerful negro, bellowing like an angry bull, had whipped out a large, +strangely shaped knife and charged furiously at the Superintendent. +But the two plain-clothes men had been watching him from behind and +now sprang upon him, each seizing an arm. Two sharp, metallic clicks +in quick succession, a thunderous crash and an ear-splitting yell, and +the formidable barbarian lay prostrate on the floor with one massive +constable sitting astride his chest and the other seated on his knees. + +“Now’s your chance, Doctor,” said Miller. “I’ll get his shoes and +socks off.” + +As Thorndyke re-inked his plates, Miller and the local superintendent +expertly removed the smart patent shoes and the green silk socks from +the feet of the writhing, bellowing negro. Then Thorndyke rapidly and +skilfully applied the inked plates to the soles of the feet--which I +steadied for the purpose--and followed up with a dexterous pressure of +the paper pad, first to one foot and then--having torn off the printed +sheet--to the other. In spite of the difficulties occasioned by +Macauley’s struggles, each sheet presented a perfectly clear and sharp +print of the sole of the foot, even the ridge-patterns of the toes and +ball of the foot being quite distinct. Thorndyke laid each of the new +prints on the table beside the corresponding large photograph, and +invited the two superintendents to compare them. + +“Yes,” said Miller--and Superintendent Platt nodded his +acquiescence--“there can’t be a shadow of a doubt. The ink-prints and +the photographs are identical, to every line and skin-marking. You’ve +made out your case, Doctor, as you always do.” + + +“So you see,” said Thorndyke, as we smoked our evening pipes on the +old stone pier, “your method was a perfectly sound one, only you +didn’t apply it properly. Like too many mathematicians, you started on +your calculations before you had secured your data. If you had applied +the simple laws of probability to the real data, they would have +pointed straight to Macauley.” + +“How do you suppose he lost his little toes?” I asked. + +“I don’t suppose at all. Obviously it was a case of double ainhum.” + +“Ainhum!” I exclaimed with a sudden flash of recollection. + +“Yes; that was what you overlooked. You compared the probabilities of +three diseases either of which only very rarely causes the loss of +even one little toe and infinitely rarely causes the loss of both, and +none of which conditions is confined to any definite class of persons; +and you ignored ainhum, a disease which attacks almost exclusively the +little toe, causing it to drop off, and quite commonly destroys both +little toes--a disease, moreover, which is confined to the +black-skinned races. In European practice ainhum is unknown, but in +Africa, and to a less extent, in India, it is quite common. If you +were to assemble all the men in the world who have lost both little +toes, more than nine-tenths of them would be suffering from ainhum; so +that, by the laws of probability, your footprints were, by nine +chances to one, those of a man who had suffered from ainhum, and +therefore a black-skinned man. But as soon as you had established a +black man as the probable criminal, you opened up a new field of +corroborative evidence. There was a black man on the spot. That man +was a native of Sierra Leone and almost certainly a man of importance +there. But the victim’s husband had deadly enemies in the native +secret societies of Sierra Leone. The letters of the husband to the +wife probably contained matter incriminating certain natives of Sierra +Leone. The evidence became cumulative, you see. Taken as a whole, it +pointed plainly to Macauley, apart from the new fact of the murder of +Toussaint in Liverpool, a city with a considerable floating population +of West Africans.” + +“And I gather from your reference to the African poison, strophanthus, +that you fixed on Macauley at once when I gave you my sketch of the +case?” + +“Yes; especially when I saw your photographs of the footprints with +the absent little toes and those characteristic chigger-scars on the +toes that remained. But it was sheer luck that enabled me to fit the +key-stone into its place and turn mere probability into virtual +certainty. I could have embraced the magician Wardale when he brought +us the magic slippers. Still, it isn’t an absolute certainty, even +now, though I expect it will be by to-morrow.” + +And Thorndyke was right. That very evening the police entered +Macauley’s chambers in Tanfield Court, where they discovered the dead +woman’s attaché case. It still contained Toussaint’s letters to his +wife, and one of those letters mentioned by name, as members of a +dangerous secret society, several prominent Sierra Leone men, +including the accused David Macauley. + + + + + III. + THE NEW JERSEY SPHINX + +“A rather curious neighbourhood this, Jervis,” my friend Thorndyke +remarked as we turned into Upper Bedford Place; “a sort of temporary +aviary for cosmopolitan birds of passage, especially those of the +Oriental variety. The Asiatic and African faces that one sees at the +windows of these Bloomsbury boarding-houses almost suggest an overflow +from the ethnographical galleries of the adjacent British Museum.” + +“Yes,” I agreed, “there must be quite a considerable population of +Africans, Japanese and Hindus in Bloomsbury; particularly Hindus.” + +As I spoke, and as if in illustration of my statement, a dark-skinned +man rushed out of one of the houses farther down the street and began +to advance towards us in a rapid, bewildered fashion, stopping to look +at each street door as he came to it. His hatless condition--though he +was exceedingly well dressed--and his agitated manner immediately +attracted my attention, and Thorndyke’s too, for the latter remarked, +“Our friend seems to be in trouble. An accident, perhaps, or a case of +sudden illness.” + +Here the stranger, observing our approach, ran forward to meet us and +asked in an agitated tone, “Can you tell me, please, where I can find +a doctor?” + +“I am a medical man,” replied Thorndyke, “and so is my friend.” + +Our acquaintance grasped Thorndyke’s sleeve and exclaimed eagerly: + +“Come with me, then, quickly if you please. A most dreadful thing has +happened.” + +He hurried us along at something between a trot and a quick walk, and +as we proceeded he continued excitedly, “I am quite confused and +terrified; it is all so strange and sudden and terrible.” + +“Try,” said Thorndyke, “to calm yourself a little and tell us what has +happened.” + +“I will,” was the agitated reply. “It is my cousin, Dinanath +Byramji--his surname is the same as mine. Just now I went to his room +and was horrified to find him lying on the floor, staring at the +ceiling and blowing--like this,” and he puffed out his cheeks with a +soft blowing noise. “I spoke to him and shook his hand, but he was +like a dead man. This is the house.” + +He darted up the steps to an open door at which a rather scared +page-boy was on guard, and running along the hall, rapidly ascended +the stairs. Following him closely, we reached a rather dark +first-floor landing where, at a half-open door, a servant-maid stood +listening with an expression of awe to a rhythmical snoring sound that +issued from the room. + +The unconscious man lay as Mr. Byramji had said, staring fixedly at +the ceiling with wide-open, glazy eyes, puffing out his cheeks +slightly at each breath. But the breathing was shallow and slow, and +it grew perceptibly slower, with lengthening pauses. And even as I was +timing it with my watch while Thorndyke examined the pupils with the +aid of a wax match, it stopped. I laid my finger on the wrist and +caught one or two slow, flickering beats. Then the pulse stopped too. + +“He is gone,” said I. “He must have burst one of the large arteries.” + +“Apparently,” said Thorndyke, “though one would not have expected it +at his age. But wait! What is this?” + +He pointed to the right ear, in the hollow of which a few drops of +blood had collected, and as he spoke he drew his hand gently over the +dead man’s head and moved it slightly from side to side. + +“There is a fracture of the base of the skull,” said he, “and quite +distinct signs of contusion of the scalp.” He turned to Mr. Byramji, +who stood wringing his hands and gazing incredulously at the dead man, +and asked: + +“Can you throw any light on this?” + +The Indian looked at him vacantly. The sudden tragedy seemed to have +paralyzed his brain. “I don’t understand,” said he. “What does it +mean?” + +“It means,” replied Thorndyke, “that he has received a heavy blow on +the head.” + +For a few moments Mr. Byramji continued to stare vacantly at my +colleague. Then he seemed suddenly to realize the import of +Thorndyke’s reply, for he started up excitedly and turned to the door, +outside which the two servants were hovering. + +“Where is the person gone who came in with my cousin?” he demanded. + +“You saw him go out, Albert,” said the maid. “Tell Mr. Byramji where +he went to.” + +The page tiptoed into the room with a fearful eye fixed on the corpse, +and replied falteringly, “I only see the back of him as he went out, +and all I know is that he turned to the left. P’raps he’s gone for a +doctor.” + +“Can you give us any description of him?” asked Thorndyke. + +“I only see the back of him,” repeated the page. “He was a shortish +gentleman and he had on a dark suit of clothes and a hard felt hat. +That’s all I know.” + +“Thank you,” said Thorndyke. “We may want to ask you some more +questions presently,” and having conducted the page to the door, he +shut it and turned to Mr. Byramji. + +“Have you any idea who it was that was with your cousin?” he asked. + +“None at all,” was the reply. “I was sitting in my room opposite, +writing, when I heard my cousin come up the stairs with another +person, to whom he was talking. I could not hear what he was saying. +They went into his room--this room--and I could occasionally catch the +sound of their voices. In about a quarter of an hour I heard the door +open and shut, and then some one went downstairs, softly and rather +quickly. I finished the letter that I was writing, and when I had +addressed it I came in here to ask my cousin who the visitor was. I +thought it might be some one who had come to negotiate for the ruby.” + +“The ruby!” exclaimed Thorndyke. “What ruby do you refer to?” + +“The great ruby,” replied Byramji. “But of course you have not----” He +broke off suddenly and stood for a few moments staring at Thorndyke +with parted lips and wide-open eyes; then abruptly he turned, and +kneeling beside the dead man he began, in a curious, caressing, +half-apologetic manner, first to pass his hand gently over the body at +the waist and then to unfasten the clothes. This brought into view a +handsome, soft leather belt, evidently of native workmanship, worn +next to the skin and furnished with three pockets. Mr. Byramji +unbuttoned and explored them in quick succession, and it was evident +that they were all empty. + +“It is gone!” he exclaimed in low, intense tones. “Gone! Ah! But how +little would it signify! But thou, dear Dinanath, my brother, my +friend, thou art gone, too!” + +He lifted the dead man’s hand and pressed it to his cheek, murmuring +endearments in his own tongue. Presently he laid it down reverently, +and sprang up, and I was startled at the change in his aspect. The +delicate, gentle, refined face had suddenly become the face of a +Fury--fierce, sinister, vindictive. + +“This wretch must die!” he exclaimed huskily. “This sordid brute who, +without compunction, has crushed out a precious life as one would +carelessly crush a fly, for the sake of a paltry crystal--he must die, +if I have to follow him and strangle him with my own hands!” + +Thorndyke laid his hand on Byramji’s shoulder. “I sympathize with you +most cordially,” said he. “If it is as you think, and appearances +suggest, that your cousin has been murdered as a mere incident of +robbery, the murderer’s life is forfeit, and Justice cries aloud for +retribution. The fact of murder will be determined, for or against, by +a proper inquiry. Meanwhile we have to ascertain who this unknown man +is and what happened while he was with your cousin.” + +Byramji made a gesture of despair. “But the man has disappeared, and +nobody has seen him! What can we do?” + +“Let us look around us,” replied Thorndyke, “and see if we can judge +what has happened in this room. What, for instance, is this?” + +He picked up from a corner near the door a small leather object, which +he handed to Mr. Byramji. The Indian seized it eagerly, exclaiming: + +“Ah! It is the little bag in which my cousin used to carry the ruby. +So he had taken it from his belt.” + +“It hasn’t been dropped, by any chance?” I suggested. + +In an instant Mr. Byramji was down on his knees, peering and groping +about the floor, and Thorndyke and I joined in the search. But, as +might have been expected, there was no sign of the ruby, nor, indeed, +of anything else, excepting a hat which I picked up from under the +table. + +“No,” said Mr. Byramji, rising with a dejected air. “It is gone--of +course it is gone, and the murderous villain----” + +Here his glance fell on the hat, which I had laid on the table, and he +bent forward to look at it. + +“Whose hat is this?” he demanded, glancing at the chair on which +Thorndyke’s hat and mine had been placed. + +“Is it not your cousin’s?” asked Thorndyke. + +“No, certainly not. His hat was like mine--we bought them both +together. It had a white silk lining with his initials, D.B., in gold. +This has no lining and is a much older hat. It must be the murderer’s +hat.” + +“If it is,” said Thorndyke, “that is a most important fact--important +in two respects. Could you let us see your hat?” + +“Certainly,” replied Byramji, walking quickly, but with a soft tread, +to the door. As he went out, shutting the door silently behind him, +Thorndyke picked up the derelict hat and swiftly tried it on the head +of the dead man. As far as I could judge, it appeared to fit, and this +Thorndyke confirmed as he replaced it on the table. + +“As you see,” said he, “it is at least a practicable fit, which is a +fact of some significance.” + +Here Mr. Byramji returned with his own hat, which he placed on the +table by the side of the other, and thus placed, crown uppermost, the +two hats were closely similar. Both were black, hard felts of the +prevalent “bowler” shape, and of good quality, and the difference in +their age and state of preservation was not striking; but when Byramji +turned them over and exhibited their interiors it was seen that +whereas the strange hat was unlined save for the leather headband, +Byramji’s had a white silk lining and bore the owner’s initials in +embossed gilt letters. + +“What happened,” said Thorndyke, when he had carefully compared the +two hats, “seems fairly obvious. The two men, on entering, placed +their hats crown upwards on the table. In some way--perhaps during a +struggle--the visitor’s hat was knocked down and rolled under the +table. Then the stranger, on leaving, picked up the only visible +hat--almost identically similar to his own--and put it on.” + +“Is it not rather singular,” I asked, “that he should not have noticed +the different feel of a strange hat?” + +“I think not,” Thorndyke replied. “If he noticed anything unusual he +would probably assume that he had put it on the wrong way round. +Remember that he would be extremely hurried and agitated. And when +once he had left the house he would not dare to take the risk of +returning, though he would doubtless realize the gravity of the +mistake. And now,” he continued, “would you mind giving us a few +particulars? You have spoken of a great ruby, which your cousin had, +and which seems to be missing.” + +“Yes. You shall come to my room and I will tell you about it; but +first let us lay my poor cousin decently on his bed.” + +“I think,” said Thorndyke, “the body ought not to be moved until the +police have seen it.” + +“Perhaps you are right,” Byramji agreed reluctantly, “though it seems +callous to leave him lying there.” With a sigh he turned to the door, +and Thorndyke followed, carrying the two hats. + +“My cousin and I,” said our host, when we were seated in his own large +bed-sitting room, “were both interested in gem-stones. I deal in all +kinds of stones that are found in the East, but Dinanath dealt almost +exclusively in rubies. He was a very fine judge of those beautiful +gems, and he used to make periodical tours in Burma in search of uncut +rubies of unusual size or quality. About four months ago he acquired +at Mogok, in Upper Burma, a magnificent specimen over twenty-eight +carats in weight, perfectly flawless and of the most gorgeous colour. +It had been roughly cut, but my cousin was intending to have it recut +unless he should receive an advantageous offer for it in the +meantime.” + +“What would be the value of such a stone?” I asked. + +“It is impossible to say. A really fine large ruby of perfect colour +is far, far more valuable than the finest diamond of the same size. It +is the most precious of all gems, with the possible exception of the +emerald. A fine ruby of five carats is worth about three thousand +pounds, but, of course, the value rises out of all proportion with +increasing size. Fifty thousand pounds would be a moderate price for +Dinanath’s ruby.” + +During this recital I noticed that Thorndyke, while listening +attentively, was turning the stranger’s hat over in his hands, +narrowly scrutinizing it both inside and outside. As Byramji +concluded, he remarked: + +“We shall have to let the police know what has happened, but, as my +friend and I will be called as witnesses, I should like to examine +this hat a little more closely before you hand it over to them. Could +you let me have a small, hard brush? A dry nail-brush would do.” + +Our host complied readily--in fact eagerly. Thorndyke’s authoritative, +purposeful manner had clearly impressed him, for he said as he handed +my colleague a new nail-brush: “I thank you for your help and value +it. We must not depend on the police only.” + +Accustomed as I was to Thorndyke’s methods, his procedure was not +unexpected, but Mr. Byramji watched him with breathless interest and +no little surprise as, laying a sheet of note-paper on the table, he +brought the hat close to it and brushed firmly but slowly, so that the +dust dislodged should fall on it. As it was not a very well-kept hat, +the yield was considerable, especially when the brush was drawn under +the curl of the brim, and very soon the paper held quite a little +heap. Then Thorndyke folded the paper into a small packet and having +written “outside” on it, put it in his pocket-book. + +“Why do you do that?” Mr. Byramji asked. “What will the dust tell +you?” + +“Probably nothing,” Thorndyke replied. “But this hat is our only +direct clue to the identity of the man who was with your cousin, and +we must make the most of it. Dust, you know, is only a mass of +fragments detached from surrounding objects. If the objects are +unusual the dust may be quite distinctive. You could easily identify +the hat of a miller or a cement worker.” As he was speaking he +reversed the hat and turned down the leather head-lining, whereupon a +number of strips of folded paper fell down into the crown. + +“Ah!” exclaimed Byramji, “perhaps we shall learn something now.” + +He picked out the folded slips and began eagerly to open them out, and +we examined them systematically, one by one. But they were singularly +disappointing and uninforming. Mostly they consisted of strips of +newspaper, with one or two circulars, a leaf from a price list of gas +stoves, a portion of a large envelope on which were the remains of an +address which read “--n--don, W.C.,” and a piece of paper, evidently +cut down vertically and bearing the right-hand half of some kind of +list. This read: + + + “--el 3 oz. 5 dwts. + --eep 9½ oz.” + + +“Can you make anything of this?” I asked, handing the paper to +Thorndyke. + +He looked at it reflectively, and answered, as he copied it into his +notebook: “It has, at least, some character. If we consider it with +the other data we should get some sort of hint from it. But these +scraps of paper don’t tell us much. Perhaps their most suggestive +feature is their quantity and the way in which, as you have no doubt +noticed, they were arranged at the sides of the hat. We had better +replace them as we found them for the benefit of the police.” + +The nature of the suggestion to which he referred was not very obvious +to me, but the presence of Mr. Byramji rendered discussion +inadvisable; nor was there any opportunity, for we had hardly +reconstituted the hat when we became aware of a number of persons +ascending the stairs, and then we heard the sound of rather peremptory +rapping at the door of the dead man’s room. + +Mr. Byramji opened the door and went out on to the landing, where +several persons had collected, including the two servants and a +constable. + +“I understand,” said the policeman, “that there is something wrong +here. Is that so?” + +“A very terrible thing has happened,” replied Byramji. “But the +doctors can tell you better than I can.” Here he looked appealingly at +Thorndyke, and we both went out and joined him. + +“A gentleman--Mr. Dinanath Byramji--has met with his death under +somewhat suspicious circumstances,” said Thorndyke, and, glancing at +the knot of naturally curious persons on the landing, he continued: +“If you will come into the room where the death occurred, I will give +you the facts so far as they are known to us.” + +With this he opened the door and entered the room with Mr. Byramji, +the constable, and me. As the door opened, the bystanders craned +forward and a middle-aged woman uttered a cry of horror and followed +us into the room. + +“This is dreadful!” she exclaimed, with a shuddering glance at the +corpse. “The servants told me about it when I came in just now and I +sent Albert for the police at once. But what does it mean? You don’t +think poor Mr. Dinanath has been murdered?” + +“We had better get the facts, ma’am,” said the constable, drawing out +a large black notebook and laying his helmet on the table. He turned +to Mr. Byramji, who had sunk into a chair and sat, the picture of +grief, gazing at his dead cousin. “Would you kindly tell me what you +know about how it happened?” + +Byramji repeated the substance of what he had told us, and when the +constable had taken down his statement, Thorndyke and I gave the few +medical particulars that we could furnish and handed the constable our +cards. Then, having helped to lay the corpse on the bed and cover it +with a sheet, we turned to take our leave. + +“You have been very kind,” Mr. Byramji said as he shook our hands +warmly. “I am more than grateful. Perhaps I may be permitted to call +on you and hear if--if you have learned anything fresh,” he concluded +discreetly. + +“We shall be pleased to see you,” Thorndyke replied, “and to give you +any help that we can”; and with this we took our departure, watched +inquisitively down the stairs by the boarders and the servants who +still lurked in the vicinity of the chamber of death. + +“If the police have no more information than we have,” I remarked as +we walked homeward, “they won’t have much to go on.” + +“No,” said Thorndyke. “But you must remember that this crime--as we +are justified in assuming it to be--is not an isolated one. It is the +fourth of practically the same kind within the last six months. I +understand that the police have some kind of information respecting +the presumed criminal, though it can’t be worth much, seeing that no +arrest has been made. But there is some new evidence this time. The +exchange of hats may help the police considerably.” + +“In what way? What evidence does it furnish?” + +“In the first place it suggests a hurried departure, which seems to +connect the missing man with the crime. Then, he is wearing the dead +man’s hat, and though he is not likely to continue wearing it, it may +be seen and furnish a clue. We know that that hat fits him fairly and +we know its size, so that we know the size of his head. Finally, we +have the man’s own hat.” + +“I don’t fancy the police will get much information from that,” said +I. + +“Probably not,” he agreed. “Yet it offered one or two interesting +suggestions, as you probably observed.” + +“It made no suggestions whatever to me,” said I. + +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “I can only recommend you to recall our simple +inspection and consider the significance of what we found.” + +This I had to accept as closing the discussion for the time being, and +as I had to make a call at my bookseller’s concerning some reports +that I had left to be bound, I parted from Thorndyke at the corner of +Chichester Rents and left him to pursue his way alone. + +My business with the bookseller took me longer than I had expected, +for I had to wait while the lettering on the backs was completed, and +when I arrived at our chambers in King’s Bench Walk, I found Thorndyke +apparently at the final stage of some experiment evidently connected +with our late adventure. The microscope stood on the table with one +slide on the stage and a second one beside it; but Thorndyke had +apparently finished his microscopical researches, for as I entered he +held in his hand a test-tube filled with a smoky-coloured fluid. + +“I see that you have been examining the dust from the hat,” said I. +“Does it throw any fresh light on the case?” + +“Very little,” he replied. “It is just common dust--assorted fibres +and miscellaneous organic and mineral particles. But there are a +couple of hairs from the inside of the hat--both lightish brown, and +one of the atrophic, note-of-exclamation type that one finds at the +margin of bald patches; and the outside dust shows minute traces of +lead, apparently in the form of oxide. What do you make of that?” + +“Perhaps the man is a plumber or a painter,” I suggested. + +“Either is possible and worth considering,” he replied; but his tone +made clear to me that this was not his own inference; and a row of +five consecutive Post Office Directories, which I had already noticed +ranged along the end of the table, told me that he had not only formed +a hypothesis on the subject, but had probably either confirmed or +disproved it. For the Post Office Directory was one of Thorndyke’s +favourite books of reference; and the amount of curious and recondite +information that he succeeded in extracting from its matter-of-fact +pages would have surprised no one more than it would the compilers of +the work. + +At this moment the sound of footsteps ascending our stairs became +audible. It was late for business callers, but we were not +unaccustomed to late visitors; and a familiar rat-tat of our little +brass knocker seemed to explain the untimely visit. + +“That sounds like Superintendent Miller’s knock,” said Thorndyke, as +he strode across the room to open the door. And the Superintendent it +turned out to be. But not alone. + +As the door opened, the officer entered with two gentlemen, both +natives of India, and one of whom was our friend Mr. Byramji. + +“Perhaps,” said Miller, “I had better look in a little later.” + +“Not on my account,” said Byramji. “I have only a few words to say and +there is nothing secret about my business. May I introduce my kinsman, +Mr. Khambata, a student of the Inner Temple?” + +Byramji’s companion bowed ceremoniously. “Byramji came to my chambers +just now,” he explained, “to consult me about this dreadful affair, +and he chanced to show me your card. He had not heard of you, but +supposed you to be an ordinary medical practitioner. He did not +realize that he had entertained an angel unawares. But I, who knew of +your great reputation, advised him to put his affairs in your +hands--without prejudice to the official investigations,” Mr. Khambata +added hastily, bowing to the Superintendent. + +“And I,” said Mr. Byramji, “instantly decided to act on my kinsman’s +advice. I have come to beg you to leave no stone unturned to secure +the punishment of my cousin’s murderer. Spare no expense. I am a rich +man and my poor cousin’s property will come to me. As to the ruby, +recover it if you can, but it is of no consequence. Vengeance--justice +is what I seek. Deliver this wretch into my hands, or into the hands +of justice, and I give you the ruby or its value, freely--gladly.” + +“There is no need,” said Thorndyke, “of such extraordinary inducement. +If you wish me to investigate this case, I will do so and will use +every means at my disposal, without prejudice, as your friend says, to +the proper claims of the officers of the law. But you understand that +I can make no promises. I cannot guarantee success.” + +“We understand that,” said Mr. Khambata. “But we know that if you +undertake the case, everything that is possible will be done. And now +we must leave you to your consultation.” + +As soon as our clients had gone, Miller rose from his chair with his +hand in his breast pocket. “I dare say, Doctor,” said he, “you can +guess what I have come about. I was sent for to look into this Byramji +case, and I heard from Mr. Byramji that you had been there and that +you had made a minute examination of the missing man’s hat. So have I; +and I don’t mind telling you that I could learn nothing from it.” + +“I haven’t learnt much myself,” said Thorndyke. + +“But you’ve picked up something,” urged Miller, “if it is only a hint; +and we have just a little clue. There is very small doubt that this is +the same man--‘The New Jersey Sphinx,’ as the papers call him--that +committed those other robberies; and a very difficult type of criminal +he is to get hold of. He is bold, he is wary, he plays a lone hand, +and he sticks at nothing. He has no confederates, and he kills every +time. The American police never got near him but once; and that once +gives us the only clues we have.” + +“Finger-prints?” inquired Thorndyke. + +“Yes, and very poor ones, too. So rough that you can hardly make out +the pattern. And even those are not absolutely guaranteed to be his; +but in any case, finger-prints are not much use until you’ve got the +man. And there is a photograph of the fellow himself. But it is only a +snapshot, and a poor one at that. All it shows is that he has a mop of +hair and a pointed beard--or at least he had when the photograph was +taken. But for identification purposes it is practically worthless. +Still, there it is; and what I propose is this: we want this man and +so do you; we’ve worked together before and can trust one another. I +am going to lay my cards on the table and ask you to do the same.” + +“But, my dear Miller,” said Thorndyke, “I haven’t any cards. I haven’t +a single solid fact.” + +The detective was visibly disappointed. Nevertheless, he laid two +photographs on the table and pushed them towards Thorndyke, who +inspected them through his lens and passed them to me. + +“The pattern is very indistinct and broken up,” he remarked. + +“Yes,” said Miller; “the prints must have been made on a very rough +surface, though you get prints something like those from fitters or +other men who use files and handle rough metal. And now, Doctor, can’t +you give us a lead of any kind?” + +Thorndyke reflected a few moments. “I really have not a single real +fact,” said he, “and I am unwilling to make merely speculative +suggestions.” + +“Oh, that’s all right,” Miller replied cheerfully. “Give us a start. I +shan’t complain if it comes to nothing.” + +“Well,” Thorndyke said reluctantly, “I was thinking of getting a few +particulars as to the various tenants of No. 51, Clifford’s Inn. +Perhaps you could do it more easily and it might be worth your while.” + +“Good!” Miller exclaimed gleefully. “He ‘gives to airy nothing a local +habitation and a name.’” + +“It is probably the wrong name,” Thorndyke reminded him. + +“I don’t care,” said Miller. “But why shouldn’t we go together? It’s +too late to-night, and I can’t manage to-morrow morning. But say +to-morrow afternoon. Two heads are better than one, you know, +especially when the second one is yours. Or perhaps,” he added, with a +glance at me, “three would be better still.” + +Thorndyke considered for a moment or two and then looked at me. + +“What do you say, Jervis?” he asked. + +As my afternoon was unoccupied, I agreed with enthusiasm, being as +curious as the Superintendent to know how Thorndyke had connected this +particular locality with the vanished criminal; and Miller departed in +high spirits with an appointment for the morrow at three o’clock in +the afternoon. + +For some time after the Superintendent’s departure I sat wrapped in +profound meditation. In some mysterious way the address, 51, +Clifford’s Inn, had emerged from the formless data yielded by the +derelict hat. But what had been the connection? Apparently the +fragment of the addressed envelope had furnished the clue. But how had +Thorndyke extended “----n” into “51, Clifford’s Inn”? It was to me a +complete mystery. + +Meanwhile, Thorndyke had seated himself at the writing table, and I +noticed that of the two letters which he wrote, one was written on our +headed paper and the other on ordinary plain notepaper. I was +speculating on the reason for this when he rose, and as he stuck on +the stamps, said to me, “I am just going out to post these two +letters. Do you care for a short stroll through the leafy shades of +Fleet Street? The evening is still young.” + +“The rural solitudes of Fleet Street attract me at all hours,” I +replied, fetching my hat from the adjoining office; and we accordingly +sallied forth together, strolling up King’s Bench Walk and emerging +into Fleet Street by way of Mitre Court. When Thorndyke had dropped +his letters into the post office box he stood awhile gazing up at the +tower of St. Dunstan’s Church. + +“Have you ever been in Clifford’s Inn, Jervis?” he inquired. + +“Never,” I replied (we passed through it together on an average a +dozen times a week), “but it is not too late for an exploratory +visit.” + +We crossed the road, and entering Clifford’s Inn Passage, passed +through the still half-open gate, crossed the outer court and threaded +the tunnel-like entry by the hall to the inner court, near the middle +of which Thorndyke halted, and looking up at one of the ancient +houses, remarked, “No. 51.” + +“So that is where our friend hangs out his flag,” said I. + +“Oh, come, Jervis,” he protested, “I am surprised at you; you are as +bad as Miller. I have merely suggested a possible connection between +these premises and the hat that was left at Bedford Place. As to the +nature of that connection I have no idea, and there may be no +connection at all. I assure you, Jervis, that I am on the thinnest +possible ice. I am working on a hypothesis which is in the highest +degree speculative, and I should not have given Miller a hint, but +that he was so eager and so willing to help--and also that I wanted +his finger-prints. But we are really only at the beginning, and may +never get any farther.” + +I looked up at the old house. It was all in darkness excepting the top +floor, where a couple of lighted windows showed the shadow of a man +moving rapidly about the room. We crossed to the entry and inspected +the names painted on the door-posts. The ground floor was occupied by +a firm of photoengravers, the first floor by a Mr. Carrington, whose +name stood out conspicuously on its oblong of comparatively fresh +white paint, while the tenants of the second floor--old residents, to +judge by the faded and discoloured paint in which their names were +announced--were Messrs. Burt & Highley, metallurgists. + +“Burt has departed,” said Thorndyke, as I read out the names; and he +pointed to two red lines of erasure which I had not noticed in the dim +light, “so the active gentleman above is presumably Mr. Highley, and +we may take it that he has residential as well as business premises. I +wonder who and what Mr. Carrington is--but I dare say we shall find +out to-morrow.” + +With this he dismissed the professional aspects of Clifford’s Inn, and +changing the subject to its history and associations, chatted in his +inimitable, picturesque manner until our leisurely perambulations +brought us at length to the Inner Temple Gate. + +On the following morning we bustled through our work in order to leave +the afternoon free, making several joint visits to solicitors from +whom we were taking instructions. Returning from the last of these--a +City lawyer--Thorndyke turned into St. Helen’s Place and halted at a +doorway bearing the brass plate of a firm of assayists and refiners. I +followed him into the outer office where, on his mentioning his name, +an elderly man came to the counter. + +“Mr. Grayson has put out some specimens for you, sir,” said he. “They +are about thirty grains to the ton--you said that the content was of +no importance--and I am to tell you that you need not return them. +They are not worth treating.” He went to a large safe from which he +took a canvas bag, and returning to the counter, turned out on it the +contents of the bag, consisting of about a dozen good-sized lumps of +quartz and a glittering yellow fragment, which Thorndyke picked out +and dropped in his pocket. + +“Will that collection do?” our friend inquired. + +“It will answer my purpose perfectly,” Thorndyke replied, and when the +specimens had been replaced in the bag, and the latter deposited in +Thorndyke’s handbag, my colleague thanked the assistant and we went on +our way. + +“We extend our activities into the domain of mineralogy,” I remarked. + +Thorndyke smiled an inscrutable smile. “We also employ the suction +pump as an instrument of research,” he observed. “However, the +strategic uses of chunks of quartz--otherwise than as missiles--will +develop themselves in due course, and the interval may be used for +reflection.” + +It was. But my reflections brought no solution. I noticed, however, +that when at three o’clock we set forth in company with the +Superintendent, the bag went with us; and having offered to carry it +and having had my offer accepted with a sly twinkle, its weight +assured me that the quartz was still inside. + +“Chambers and Offices to let,” Thorndyke read aloud as we approached +the porter’s lodge. “That lets us in, I think. And the porter knows +Dr. Jervis and me by sight, so he will talk more freely.” + +“He doesn’t know me,” said the Superintendent, “but I’ll keep in the +background, all the same.” + +A pull at the bell brought out a clerical-looking man in a tall hat +and a frock coat, who regarded Thorndyke and me through his spectacles +with an amiable air of recognition. + +“Good afternoon, Mr. Larkin,” said Thorndyke. “I am asked to get +particulars of vacant chambers. What have you got to let?” + +Mr. Larkin reflected. “Let me see. There’s a ground floor at No. +5--rather dark--and a small second-pair set at No. 12. And then there +is--oh, yes, there is a good first floor set at No. 51. They wouldn’t +have been vacant until Michaelmas, but Mr. Carrington, the tenant, has +had to go abroad suddenly. I had a letter from him this morning, +enclosing the key. Funny letter, too.” He dived into his pocket, and +hauling out a bundle of letters, selected one and handed it to +Thorndyke with a broad smile. + +Thorndyke glanced at the postmark (“London, E.”), and having taken out +the key, extracted the letter, which he opened and held so that Miller +and I could see it. The paper bore the printed heading, “Baltic +Shipping Company, Wapping,” and the further written heading, “S.S. +_Gothenburg_,” and the letter was brief and to the point: + + + _Dear Sir,_ + + _I am giving up my chambers at No._ 51, _as I have been suddenly + called abroad. I enclose the key, but am not troubling you with the + rent. The sale of my costly furniture will more than cover it, and the + surplus can be expended on painting the garden railings._ + + _Yours sincerely, + A. Carrington._ + + +Thorndyke smilingly replaced the letter and the key in the envelope +and asked: + +“What is the furniture like?” + +“You’ll see,” chuckled the porter, “if you care to look at the rooms. +And I think they might suit. They’re a good set.” + +“Quiet?” + +“Yes, pretty quiet. There’s a metallurgist overhead--Highley--used to +be Burt & Highley, but Burt has gone to the City, and I don’t think +Highley does much business now.” + +“Let me see,” said Thorndyke, “I think I used to meet Highley +sometimes--a tall, dark man, isn’t he?” + +“No, that would be Burt. Highley is a little, fairish man, rather +bald, with a pretty rich complexion”--here Mr. Larkin tapped his nose +knowingly and raised his little finger--“which may account for the +falling off of business.” + +“Hadn’t we better have a look at the rooms?” Miller interrupted a +little impatiently. + +“Can we see them, Mr. Larkin?” asked Thorndyke. + +“Certainly,” was the reply. “You’ve got the key. Let me have it when +you’ve seen the rooms; and whatever you do,” he added with a broad +grin, “be careful of the furniture.” + +“It looks,” the Superintendent remarked as we crossed the inner court, +“as if Mr. Carrington had done a mizzle. That’s hopeful. And I see,” +he continued, glancing at the fresh paint on the door-post as we +passed through the entry, “that he hasn’t been here long. That’s +hopeful, too.” + +We ascended to the first floor, and as Thorndyke unlocked and threw +open the door, Miller laughed aloud. The “costly furniture” consisted +of a small kitchen table, a Windsor chair and a dilapidated +deck-chair. The kitchen contained a gas ring, a small saucepan and a +frying-pan, and the bedroom was furnished with a camp-bed devoid of +bed-clothes, a washhand basin on a packing case, and a water can. + +“Hallo!” exclaimed the Superintendent. “He’s left a hat behind. Quite +a good hat, too.” He took it down from the peg, glanced at its +exterior and then, turning it over, looked inside. And then his mouth +opened with a jerk. + +“Great Solomon Eagle!” he gasped. “Do you see, Doctor? It’s _the_ +hat.” + +He held it out to us, and sure enough on the white silk lining of the +crown were the embossed, gilt letters, D.B., just as Mr. Byramji had +described them. + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, as the Superintendent snatched up a +greengrocer’s paper bag from the kitchen floor and persuaded the hat +into it, “it is undoubtedly the missing link. But what are you going +to do now?” + +“Do!” exclaimed Miller. “Why, I am going to collar the man. These +Baltic boats put in at Hull and Newcastle--perhaps he didn’t know +that--and they are pretty slow boats, too. I shall wire to Newcastle +to have the ship detained and take Inspector Badger down to make the +arrest. I’ll leave you to explain to the porter, and I owe you a +thousand thanks for your valuable tip.” + +With this he bustled away, clasping the precious hat, and from the +window we saw him hurry across the court and dart out through the +postern into Fetter Lane. + +“I think Miller was rather precipitate,” said Thorndyke. “He should +have got a description of the man and some further particulars.” + +“Yes,” said I. “Miller had much better have waited until you had +finished with Mr. Larkin. But you can get some more particulars when +we take back the key.” + +“We shall get more information from the gentleman who lives on the +floor above, and I think we will go up and interview him now. I wrote +to him last night and made a metallurgical appointment, signing myself +W. Polton. Your name, if he should ask, is Stevenson.” + +As we ascended the stairs to the next floor, I meditated on the rather +tortuous proceedings of my usually straightforward colleague. The use +of the lumps of quartz was now obvious; but why these mysterious +tactics? And why, before knocking at the door, did Thorndyke carefully +take the reading of the gas meter on the landing? + +The door was opened in response to our knock by a shortish, +alert-looking, clean-shaved man in a white overall, who looked at us +keenly and rather forbiddingly. But Thorndyke was geniality +personified. + +“How do you do, Mr. Highley?” said he, holding out his hand, which the +metallurgist shook coolly. “You got my letter, I suppose?” + +“Yes. But I am not Mr. Highley. He’s away and I am carrying on. I +think of taking over his business, if there is any to take over. My +name is Sherwood. Have you got the samples?” + +Thorndyke produced the canvas bag, which Mr. Sherwood took from him +and emptied out on a bench, picking up the lumps of quartz one by one +and examining them closely. Meanwhile Thorndyke took a rapid survey of +the premises. Against the wall were two cupel furnaces and a third +larger furnace like a small pottery kiln. On a set of narrow shelves +were several rows of bone-ash cupels, looking like little white +flower-pots, and near them was the cupel-press--an appliance into +which powdered bone-ash was fed and compressed by a plunger to form +the cupels--while by the side of the press was a tub of bone-ash--a +good deal coarser, I noticed, than the usual fine powder. This +coarseness was also observed by Thorndyke, who edged up to the tub and +dipped his hand into the ash and then wiped his fingers on his +handkerchief. + +“This stuff doesn’t seem to contain much gold,” said Mr. Sherwood. +“But we shall see when we make the assay.” + +“What do you think of this?” asked Thorndyke, taking from his pocket +the small lump of glittering, golden-looking mineral that he had +picked out at the assayist’s. Mr. Sherwood took it from him and +examined it closely. “This looks more hopeful,” said he; “rather rich, +in fact.” + +Thorndyke received this statement with an unmoved countenance; but as +for me, I stared at Mr. Sherwood in amazement. For this lump of +glittering mineral was simply a fragment of common iron pyrites! It +would not have deceived a schoolboy, much less a metallurgist. + +Still holding the specimen, and taking a watchmaker’s lens from a +shelf, Mr. Sherwood moved over to the window. Simultaneously, +Thorndyke stepped softly to the cupel shelves and quickly ran his eye +along the rows of cupels. Presently he paused at one, examined it more +closely, and then, taking it from the shelf, began to pick at it with +his finger-nail. + +At this moment Mr. Sherwood turned and observed him; and instantly +there flashed into the metallurgist’s face an expression of mingled +anger and alarm. + +“Put that down!” he commanded peremptorily, and then, as Thorndyke +continued to scrape with his finger-nail, he shouted furiously, “Do +you hear? Drop it!” + +Thorndyke took him literally at his word and let the cupel fall on the +floor, when it shattered into innumerable fragments, of which one of +the largest separated itself from the rest. Thorndyke pounced upon it +and in an instantaneous glance as he picked it up, I recognized it as +a calcined tooth. + +Then followed a few moments of weird, dramatic silence. Thorndyke, +holding the tooth between his finger and thumb, looked steadily into +the eyes of the metallurgist; and the latter, pallid as a corpse, +glared at Thorndyke and furtively unbuttoned his overall. + +Suddenly the silence broke into a tumult as bewildering as the crash +of a railway collision. Sherwood’s right hand darted under his +overall. Instantly, Thorndyke snatched up another cupel and hurled it +with such truth of aim that it shattered on the metallurgist’s +forehead. And as he flung the missile, he sprang forward, and +delivered a swift upper-cut. There was a thunderous crash, a cloud of +white dust, and an automatic pistol clattered along the floor. + +I snatched up the pistol and rushed to my friend’s assistance. But +there was no need. With his great strength and his uncanny skill--to +say nothing of the effects of the knock-out blow--Thorndyke had the +man pinned down immovably. + +“See if you can find some cord, Jervis,” he said in a calm, quiet tone +that seemed almost ridiculously out of character with the +circumstances. + +There was no difficulty about this, for several corded boxes stood in +a corner of the laboratory. I cut off two lengths, with one of which I +secured the prostrate man’s arms and with the other fastened his knees +and ankles. + +“Now,” said Thorndyke, “if you will take charge of his hands, we will +make a preliminary inspection. Let us first see if he wears a belt.” + +Unbuttoning the man’s waistcoat, he drew up the shirt, disclosing a +broad, webbing belt furnished with several leather pockets, the +buttoned flaps of which he felt carefully, regardless of the stream of +threats and imprecations that poured from our victim’s swollen lips. +From the front pockets he proceeded to the back, passing an +exploratory hand under the writhing body. + +“Ah!” he exclaimed suddenly, “just turn him over, and look out for his +heels.” + +We rolled our captive over, and as Thorndyke “skinned the rabbit,” a +central pocket came into view, into which, when he had unbuttoned it, +he inserted his fingers. “Yes,” he continued, “I think this is what we +are looking for.” He withdrew his fingers, between which he held a +small packet of Japanese paper, and with feverish excitement I watched +him open out layer after layer of the soft wrapping. As he turned back +the last fold a wonderful crimson sparkle told me that the “great +ruby” was found. + +“There, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, holding the magnificent gem towards +me in the palm of his hand, “look on this beautiful, sinister thing, +charged with untold potentialities of evil--and thank the gods that it +is not yours.” + +He wrapped it up again carefully and, having bestowed it in an inner +pocket, said, “And now give me the pistol and run down to the +telegraph office and see if you can stop Miller. I should like him to +have the credit for this.” + +I handed him the pistol and made my way out into Fetter Lane and so +down to Fleet Street, where at the post office my urgent message was +sent off to Scotland Yard immediately. In a few minutes the reply came +that Superintendent Miller had not yet left and that he was starting +immediately for Clifford’s Inn. A quarter of an hour later he drove up +in a hansom to the Fetter Lane gate and I conducted him up to the +second floor, where Thorndyke introduced him to his prisoner and +witnessed the official arrest. + + +“You don’t see how I arrived at it,” said Thorndyke as we walked +homeward after returning the key. “Well, I am not surprised. The +initial evidence was of the weakest; it acquired significance only by +cumulative effect. Let us reconstruct it as it developed. + +“The derelict hat was, of course, the starting point. Now the first +thing one noticed was that it appeared to have had more than one +owner. No man would buy a new hat that fitted so badly as to need all +that packing; and the arrangement of the packing suggested a +long-headed man wearing a hat that had belonged to a man with a short +head. Then there were the suggestions offered by the slips of paper. +The fragmentary address referred to a place the name of which ended in +‘n’ and the remainder was evidently ‘London, W.C.’ Now what West +Central place names end in ‘n’? It was not a street, a square or a +court, and Barbican is not in the W.C. district. It was almost +certainly one of the half-dozen surviving Inns of Court or Chancery. +But, of course, it was not necessarily the address of the owner of the +hat. + +“The other slip of paper bore the end of a word ending in ‘el,’ and +another word ending in ‘eep,’ and connected with these were quantities +stated in ounces and pennyweights troy weight. But the only persons +who use troy weight are those who deal in precious metals. I inferred +therefore that the ‘el’ was part of ‘lemel,’ and that the ‘eep’ was +part of ‘floor-sweep,’ an inference that was supported by the +respective quantities, three ounces five pennyweights of lemel and +nine and a half ounces of floor-sweep.” + +“What is lemel?” I asked. + +“It is the trade name for the gold or silver filings that collect in +the ‘skin’ of a jeweller’s bench. Floor-sweep is, of course, the dust +swept up on the floor of a jeweller’s or goldsmith’s workshop. The +lemel is actual metal, though not of uniform fineness, but the ‘sweep’ +is a mixture of dirt and metal. Both are saved and sent to the +refiners to have the gold and silver extracted. + +“This paper, then, was connected either with a goldsmith or a gold +refiner--who might call himself an assayist or a metallurgist. The +connection was supported by the leaf of a price list of gas stoves. A +metallurgist would be kept well supplied with lists of gas stoves and +furnaces. The traces of lead in the dust from the hat gave us another +straw blowing in the same direction, for gold assayed by the dry +process is fused in the cupel furnace with lead; and as the lead +oxidizes and the oxide is volatile, traces of lead would tend to +appear in the dust deposited in the laboratory. + +“The next thing to do was to consult the directory; and when I did so, +I found that there were no goldsmiths in any of the Inns and only one +assayist--Mr. Highley, of Clifford’s Inn. The probabilities, +therefore, slender as they were, pointed to some connection between +this stray hat and Mr. Highley. And this was positively all the +information that we had when we came out this afternoon. + +“As soon as we got to Clifford’s Inn, however, the evidence began to +grow like a rolling snowball. First there was Larkin’s contribution; +and then there was the discovery of the missing hat. Now, as soon as I +saw that hat my suspicions fell upon the man upstairs. I felt a +conviction that the hat had been left there purposely and that the +letter to Larkin was just a red herring to create a false trail. +Nevertheless, the presence of that hat completely confirmed the other +evidence. It showed that the apparent connection was a real +connection.” + +“But,” I asked, “what made you suspect the man upstairs?” + +“My dear Jervis!” he exclaimed. “Consider the facts. That hat was +enough to hang the man who left it there. Can you imagine this astute, +wary villain making such an idiot’s mistake--going away and leaving +the means of his conviction for any one to find? But you are +forgetting that whereas the missing hat was found on the first floor, +the murderer’s hat was connected with the second floor. The evidence +suggested that it was Highley’s hat. And now, before we go on to the +next stage, let me remind you of those finger-prints. Miller thought +that their rough appearance was due to the surface on which they had +been made. But it was not. They were the prints of a person who was +suffering from ichthyosis, palmar psoriasis or some dry dermatitis. + +“There is one other point. The man we were looking for was a murderer. +His life was already forfeit. To such a man another murder more or +less is of no consequence. If this man, having laid the false trail, +had determined to take sanctuary in Highley’s rooms, it was probable +that he had already got rid of Highley. And remember that a +metallurgist has unrivalled means of disposing of a body; for not only +is each of his muffle furnaces a miniature crematorium, but the very +residue of a cremated body--bone-ash--is one of the materials of his +trade. + +“When we went upstairs, I first took the reading of the gas meter and +ascertained that a large amount of gas had been used recently. Then, +when we entered I took the opportunity to shake hands with Mr. +Sherwood, and immediately I became aware that he suffered from a +rather extreme form of ichthyosis. That was the first point of +verification. Then we discovered that he actually could not +distinguish between iron pyrites and auriferous quartz. He was not a +metallurgist at all. He was a masquerader. Then the bone-ash in the +tub was mixed with fragments of calcined bone, and the cupels all +showed similar fragments. In one of them I could see part of the crown +of a tooth. That was pure luck. But observe that by that time I had +enough evidence to justify an arrest. The tooth served only to bring +the affair to a crisis; and his response to my unspoken accusation +saved us the trouble of further search for confirmatory evidence.” + +“What is not quite clear to me,” said I, “is when and why he made away +with Highley. As the body has been completely reduced to bone-ash, +Highley must have been dead at least some days.” + +“Undoubtedly,” Thorndyke agreed. “I take it that the course of events +was somewhat like this: The police have been searching eagerly for +this man, and every new crime must have made his position more +unsafe--for a criminal can never be sure that he has not dropped some +clue. It began to be necessary for him to make some arrangements for +leaving the country and meanwhile to have a retreat in case his +whereabouts should chance to be discovered. Highley’s chambers were +admirable for both purposes. Here was a solitary man who seldom had a +visitor, and who would probably not be missed for some considerable +time; and in those chambers were the means of rapidly and completely +disposing of the body. The mere murder would be a negligible detail to +this ruffian. + +“I imagine that Highley was done to death at least a week ago, and +that the murderer did not take up his new tenancy until the body was +reduced to ash. With that large furnace in addition to the small ones, +this would not take long. When the new premises were ready, he could +make a sham disappearance to cover his actual flight later; and you +must see how perfectly misleading that sham disappearance was. If the +police had discovered that hat in the empty room only a week later, +they would have been certain that he had escaped to one of the Baltic +ports; and while they were following his supposed tracks, he could +have gone off comfortably via Folkestone or Southampton.” + +“Then you think he had only just moved into Highley’s rooms?” + +“I should say he moved in last night. The murder of Byramji was +probably planned on some information that the murderer had picked up, +and as soon as it was accomplished he began forthwith to lay down the +false tracks. When he reached his rooms yesterday afternoon, he must +have written the letter to Larkin and gone off at once to the East End +to post it. Then he probably had his bushy hair cut short and shaved +off his beard and moustache--which would render him quite +unrecognizable by Larkin--and moved into Highley’s chambers, from +which he would have quietly sallied forth in a few days’ time to take +his passage to the Continent. It was quite a good plan and but for the +accident of taking the wrong hat, would almost certainly have +succeeded.” + +Once every year, on the second of August, there is delivered with +unfailing regularity at No. 5a, King’s Bench Walk, a large box of +carved sandal-wood filled with the choicest Trichinopoly cheroots and +accompanied by an affectionate letter from our late client, Mr. +Byramji. For the second of August is the anniversary of the death (in +the execution shed at Newgate) of Cornelius Barnett, otherwise known +as the “New Jersey Sphinx.” + + + + + IV. + THE TOUCHSTONE + +It happened not uncommonly that the exigencies of practice committed +my friend Thorndyke to investigations that lay more properly within +the province of the police. For problems that had arisen as secondary +consequences of a criminal act could usually not be solved until the +circumstances of that act were fully elucidated, and, incidentally, +the identity of the actor established. Such a problem was that of the +disappearance of James Harewood’s will, a problem that was propounded +to us by our old friend, Mr. Marchmont, when he called on us, by +appointment, with the client of whom he had spoken in his note. + +It was just four o’clock when the solicitor arrived at our chambers, +and as I admitted him he ushered in a gentlemanly-looking man of about +thirty-five, whom he introduced as Mr. William Crowhurst. + +“I will just stay,” said he, with an approving glance at the +tea-service on the table, “and have a cup of tea with you, and give +you an outline of the case. Then I must run away and leave Mr. +Crowhurst to fill in the details.” + +He seated himself in an easy chair within comfortable reach of the +table, and as Thorndyke poured out the tea, he glanced over a few +notes scribbled on a sheet of paper. + +“I may say,” he began, stirring his tea thoughtfully, “that this is a +forlorn hope. I have brought the case to you, but I have not the +slightest expectation that you will be able to help us.” + +“A very wholesome frame of mind,” Thorndyke commented with a smile. “I +hope it is that of your client also.” + +“It is indeed,” said Mr. Crowhurst; “in fact, it seems to me a waste +of your time to go into the matter. Probably you will think so too, +when you have heard the particulars.” + +“Well, let us hear the particulars,” said Thorndyke. “A forlorn hope +has, at least, the stimulating quality of difficulty. Let us have your +outline sketch, Marchmont.” + +The solicitor, having emptied his cup and pushed it towards the tray +for replenishment, glanced at his notes and began: + +“The simplest way in which to present the problem is to give a brief +recital of the events that have given rise to it, which are these: The +day before yesterday--that is last Monday--at a quarter to two in the +afternoon, Mr. James Harewood executed a will at his house at +Merbridge, which is about two miles from Welsbury. There were present +four persons: two of his servants, who signed as witnesses, and the +two principal beneficiaries--Mr. Arthur Baxfield, a nephew of the +testator, and our friend here, Mr. William Crowhurst. The will was a +holograph written on the two pages of a sheet of letter-paper. When +the witnesses signed, the will was covered by another sheet of paper +so that only the space for the signatures was exposed. Neither of the +witnesses read the will, nor did either of the beneficiaries; and so +far as I am aware, no one but the testator knew what were its actual +provisions, though, after the servants had left the room, Mr. Harewood +explained its general purport to the beneficiaries.” + +“And what was its general purport?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Broadly speaking,” replied Marchmont, “it divided the estate in two +very unequal portions between Mr. Baxfield and Mr. Crowhurst. There +were certain small legacies of which neither the amounts nor the names +of the legatees are known. Then, to Baxfield was given a thousand +pounds to enable him either to buy a partnership or to start a small +factory--he is a felt hat manufacturer by trade--and the remainder to +Crowhurst, who was made executor and residuary legatee. But, of +course, the residue of the estate is an unknown quantity, since we +don’t know either the number or the amounts of the legacies. + +“Shortly after the signing of the will, the parties separated. Mr. +Harewood folded up the will and put it in a leather wallet which he +slipped into his pocket, stating his intention of taking the will +forthwith to deposit with his lawyer at Welsbury. A few minutes after +his guests had departed, he was seen by one of the servants to leave +the house, and afterwards was seen by a neighbour walking along a +footpath which, after passing through a small wood, joins the main +road about a mile and a quarter from Welsbury. From that time, he was +never again seen alive. He never visited the lawyer, nor did any one +see him at or near Welsbury or elsewhere. + +“As he did not return home that night, his housekeeper (he was a +widower and childless) became extremely alarmed, and in the morning +she communicated with the police. A search party was organized, and, +following the path on which he was last seen, explored the wood--which +is known locally as Gilbert’s Copse--and here, at the bottom of an old +chalk-pit, they found him lying dead with a fractured skull and a +dislocated neck. How he came by these injuries is not at present +known; but as the body had been robbed of all valuables, including his +watch, purse, diamond ring and the wallet containing the will, there +is naturally a strong suspicion that he had been murdered. That, +however, is not our immediate concern--at least not mine. I am +concerned with the will, which, as you see, has disappeared, and as it +has presumably been carried away by a thief who is under suspicion of +murder, it is not likely to be returned.” + +“It is almost certainly destroyed by this time,” said Mr. Crowhurst. + +“That certainly seems probable,” Thorndyke agreed. “But what do you +want me to do? You haven’t come for counsel’s opinion?” + +“No,” replied Marchmont. “I am pretty clear about the legal position. +I shall claim, as the will has presumably been destroyed, to have the +testator’s wishes carried out in so far as they are known. But I am +doubtful as to the view the Court may take. It may decide that the +testator’s wishes are not known; that the provisions of the will are +too uncertain to admit of administration.” + +“And what would be the effect of that decision?” asked Thorndyke. + +“In that case,” said Marchmont, “the entire estate would go to +Baxfield as he is the next of kin, and there was no previous will.” + +“And what is it that you want me to do?” + +Marchmont chuckled deprecatingly. “You have to pay the penalty of +being a prodigy, Thorndyke. We are asking you to do an +impossibility--but we don’t really expect you to bring it off. We ask +you to help us to recover the will.” + +“If the will has been completely destroyed, it can’t be recovered,” +said Thorndyke. “But we don’t know that it has been destroyed. The +matter is, at least, worth investigating; and if you wish me to look +into it, I will.” + +The solicitor rose with an air of evident relief. “Thank you, +Thorndyke,” said he. “I expect nothing--at least, I tell myself that I +do--but I can now feel that everything that is possible will be done. +And now I must be off. Crowhurst can give you any details that you +want.” + +When Marchmont had gone, Thorndyke turned to our client and asked, +“What do you suppose Baxfield will do, if the will is irretrievably +lost? Will he press his claim as next of kin?” + +“I should say yes,” replied Crowhurst. “He is a business man and his +natural claims are greater than mine. He is not likely to refuse what +the law assigns to him as his right. As a matter of fact, I think he +felt that his uncle had treated him unfairly in alienating the +property.” + +“Was there any reason for this diversion of the estate?” + +“Well,” replied Crowhurst, “Harewood and I had been very good friends +and he was under some obligations to me; and then Baxfield had not +made himself very acceptable to his uncle. But the principal factor, I +think, was a strong tendency of Baxfield’s to gamble. He had lost +quite a lot of money by backing horses, and a careful, thrifty man +like James Harewood doesn’t care to leave his savings to a gambler. +The thousand pounds that he did leave to Baxfield was expressly for +the purpose of investment in a business.” + +“Is Baxfield in business now?” + +“Not on his own account. He is a sort of foreman or shop-manager in a +factory just outside Welsbury, and I believe he is a good worker and +knows his trade thoroughly.” + +“And now,” said Thorndyke, “with regard to Mr. Harewood’s death. The +injuries might, apparently, have been either accidental or homicidal. +What are the probabilities of accident--disregarding the robbery?” + +“Very considerable, I should say. It is a most dangerous place. The +footpath runs close beside the edge of a disused chalk-pit with +perpendicular or overhanging sides, and the edge is masked by bushes +and brambles. A careless walker might easily fall over--or be pushed +over, for that matter.” + +“Do you know when the inquest is to take place?” + +“Yes. The day after to-morrow. I had the subpœna this morning for +Friday afternoon at 2.30, at the Welsbury Town Hall.” + +At this moment footsteps were heard hurriedly ascending the stairs and +then came a loud and peremptory rat-tat at our door. I sprang across +to see who our visitor was, and as I flung open the door, Mr. +Marchmont rushed in, breathing heavily and flourishing a newspaper. + +“Here is a new development,” he exclaimed. “It doesn’t seem to help us +much, but I thought you had better know about it at once.” He sat +down, and putting on his spectacles, read aloud as follows: “A new and +curious light has been thrown on the mystery of the death of Mr. James +Harewood, whose body was found yesterday in a disused chalk-pit near +Merbridge. It appears that on Monday--the day on which Mr. Harewood +almost certainly was killed--a passenger alighting from a train at +Barwood Junction before it had stopped, slipped and fell between the +train and the platform. He was quickly extricated, and as he had +evidently sustained internal injuries, he was taken to the local +hospital, where he was found to be suffering from a fractured pelvis. +He gave his name as Thomas Fletcher, but refused to give any address, +saying that he had no relatives. This morning he died, and on his +clothes being searched for an address, a parcel, formed of two +handkerchiefs tied up with string, was found in his pocket. When it +was opened it was found to contain five watches, three watch-chains, a +tie-pin and a number of bank-notes. Other pockets contained a quantity +of loose money--gold and silver mixed--and a card of the Welsbury +Races, which were held on Monday. Of the five watches, one has been +identified as the one taken from Mr. Harewood; and the bank-notes have +been identified as a batch handed to him by the cashier of his bank at +Welsbury last Thursday and presumably carried in the leather wallet +which was stolen from his pocket. This wallet, by the way, has also +been found. It was picked up--empty--last night on the railway +embankment just outside Welsbury Station. Appearances thus suggest +that the man, Fletcher, when on his way to the races, encountered Mr. +Harewood in the lonely copse, and murdered and robbed him; or perhaps +found him dead in the chalk-pit and robbed the body--a question that +is now never likely to be solved.” + +As Marchmont finished reading, he looked up at Thorndyke. “It doesn’t +help us much, does it?” said he. “As the wallet was found empty, it is +pretty certain that the will has been destroyed.” + +“Or perhaps merely thrown away,” said Thorndyke. “In which case an +advertisement offering a substantial reward may bring it to light.” + +The solicitor shrugged his shoulders sceptically, but agreed to +publish the advertisement. Then, once more he turned to go; and as Mr. +Crowhurst had no further information to give, he departed with his +lawyer. + +For some time after they had gone, Thorndyke sat with his brief notes +before him, silent and deeply reflective. I, too, maintained a +discreet silence, for I knew from long experience that the motionless +pose and quiet, impassive face were the outward signs of a mind in +swift and strenuous action. Instinctively, I gathered that this +apparently chaotic case was being quietly sorted out and arranged in a +logical order; that Thorndyke, like a skilful chess-player, was +“trying over the moves” before he should lay his hand upon the pieces. + +Presently he looked up. “Well?” he asked. “What do you think, Jervis? +Is it worth while?” + +“That,” I replied, “depends on whether the will is or is not in +existence. If it has been destroyed, an investigation would be a waste +of our time and our client’s money.” + +“Yes,” he agreed. “But there is quite a good chance that it has not +been destroyed. It was probably dropped loose into the wallet, and +then might have been picked out and thrown away before the wallet was +examined. But we mustn’t concentrate too much on the will. If we take +up the case--which I am inclined to do--we must ascertain the actual +sequence of events. We have one clear day before the inquest. If we +run down to Merbridge to-morrow and go thoroughly over the ground, and +then go on to Barwood and find out all that we can about the man +Fletcher, we may get some new light from the evidence at the inquest.” + +I agreed readily to Thorndyke’s proposal, not that I could see any way +into the case, but I felt a conviction that my colleague had isolated +some leading fact and had a definite line of research in his mind. And +this conviction deepened when, later in the evening, he laid his +research case on the table and rearranged its contents with evident +purpose. I watched curiously the apparatus that he was packing in it +and tried--not very successfully--to infer the nature of the proposed +investigation. The box of powdered paraffin wax and the spirit +blowpipe were obvious enough; but the “dust-aspirator”--a sort of +miniature vacuum cleaner--the portable microscope, the coil of Manila +line, with an eye spliced into one end, and especially the abundance +of blank-labelled microscope slides, all of which I saw him pack in +the case with deliberate care, defeated me utterly. + + +About ten o’clock on the following morning we stepped from the train +in Welsbury Station, and having recovered our bicycles from the +luggage van, wheeled them through the barrier and mounted. During the +train journey we had both studied the one-inch Ordnance map to such +purpose that we were virtually in familiar surroundings and immune +from the necessity of seeking directions from the natives. As we +cleared the town we glanced up the broad by-road to the left which led +to the race-course; then we rode on briskly for a mile, which brought +us to the spot where the footpath to Merbridge joined the road. Here +we dismounted and, lifting our bicycles over the stile, followed the +path towards a small wood which we could see ahead, crowning a low +hill. + +“For such a good path,” Thorndyke remarked as we approached the wood, +“it is singularly unfrequented. I haven’t seen a soul since we left +the road.” He glanced at the map as the path entered the wood, and +when we had walked on a couple of hundred yards, he halted and stood +his bicycle against a tree. “The chalk-pit should be about here,” said +he, “though it is impossible to see.” He grasped a stem of one of the +small bushes that crowded on to the path and pulled it aside. Then he +uttered an exclamation. + +“Just look at that, Jervis. It is a positive scandal that a public +path should be left in this condition.” + +Certainly Mr. Crowhurst had not exaggerated. It was a most dangerous +place. The parted branches revealed a chasm some thirty feet deep, the +brink of which, masked by the bushes, was but a matter of inches from +the edge of the path. + +“We had better go back,” said Thorndyke, “and find the entrance to the +pit, which seems to be to the right. The first thing is to ascertain +exactly where Harewood fell. Then we can come back and examine the +place from above.” + +We turned back, and presently found a faint track, which we followed +until, descending steeply, it brought us out into the middle of the +pit. It was evidently an ancient pit, for the sides were blackened by +age, and the floor was occupied by a number of trees, some of +considerable size. Against one of these we leaned our bicycles and +then walked slowly round at the foot of the frowning cliff. + +“This seems to be below the path,” said Thorndyke, glancing up at the +grey wall which jutted out above in stages like an inverted flight of +steps. “Somewhere hereabouts we should find some traces of the +tragedy.” + +Even as he spoke my eye caught a spot of white on a block of chalk, +and on the freshly fractured surface a significant brownish-red stain. +The block lay opposite the mouth of an artificial cave--an old +wagon-shelter, but now empty--and immediately under a markedly +overhanging part of the cliff. + +“This is undoubtedly the place where he fell,” said Thorndyke. “You +can see where the stretcher was placed--an old-pattern stretcher with +wheel-runners--and there is a little spot of broken soil at the top +where he came over. Well, apart from the robbery, a clear fall of over +thirty feet is enough to account for a fractured skull. Will you stay +here, Jervis, while I run up and look at the path?” + +He went off towards the entrance, and presently I heard him above, +pulling aside the bushes, and after one or two trials, he appeared +directly overhead. + +“There are plenty of footprints on the path,” said he, “but nothing +abnormal. No trampling or signs of a struggle. I am going on a little +farther.” + +He withdrew behind the bushes, and I proceeded to inspect the interior +of the cave, noting the smoke-blackened roof and the remains of a +recent fire, which, with a number of rabbit bones and a discarded +tea-boiler of the kind used by the professional tramp, seemed not +without a possible bearing on our investigation. I was thus engaged +when I heard Thorndyke hail me from above, and coming out of the cave, +I saw his head thrust between the branches. He seemed to be lying +down, for his face was nearly on a level with the top of the cliff. + +“I want to take an impression,” he called out. “Will you bring up the +paraffin and the blower? And you might bring the coil of line, too.” + +I hurried away to the place where our bicycles were standing, and +opening the research case, took out the coil of line, the tin of +paraffin wax and the spirit blowpipe, and having ascertained that the +container of the latter was full, I ran up the incline and made my way +along the path. Some distance along, I found my colleague nearly +hidden in the bushes, lying prone, with his head over the edge of the +cliff. + +“You see, Jervis,” he said as I crawled alongside and looked over, +“this is a possible way down, and some one has used it quite recently. +He climbed down with his face to the cliff--you can see the clear +impression of the toe of a boot in the loam on that projection, and +you can even make out the shape of an iron toe-tip. Now the problem is +how to get down to take the impression without dislodging the earth +above it. I think I will secure myself with the line.” + +“It is hardly worth the risk of a broken neck,” said I. “Probably the +print is that of some schoolboy.” + +“It is a man’s foot,” he replied. “Most likely it has no connection +with our case. But it may have, and as a shower of rain would +obliterate it we ought to secure it.” As he spoke, he passed the end +of the cord through the eye and slipped the loop over his shoulders, +drawing it tight under his arms. Then, having made the line fast to +the butt of a small tree, he cautiously lowered himself over the edge +and climbed down to the projection. As soon as he had a secure +footing, I passed the spare cord through the ring on the lid of the +wax tin and lowered it to him, and when he had unfastened it, I drew +up the cord and in the same way let down the blowpipe. Then I watched +his neat, methodical procedure. First he took out a spoonful of the +powdered, or grated, wax and very delicately sprinkled it on the +toe-print until the latter was evenly but very thinly covered. Next he +lit the blow-lamp, and as soon as the blue flame began to roar from +the pipe, he directed it on to the toe-print. Almost instantly the +powder melted, glazing the impression like a coat of varnish. Then the +flame was removed and the film of wax at once solidified and became +dull and opaque. A second, heavier sprinkling with the powder, +followed by another application of the flame, thickened the film of +wax, and this process, repeated four or five times, eventually +produced a solid cake. Then Thorndyke extinguished the blow-lamp, and +securing it and the tin to the cord, directed me to pull them up. “And +you might send me down the field-glasses,” he added. “There is +something farther down that I can’t quite make out.” + +I slipped the glasses from my shoulder, and opening the case, tied the +cord to the leather sling and lowered it down the cliff; and then I +watched with some curiosity as Thorndyke stood on his insecure perch +steadily gazing through the glasses (they were Zeiss 8-prismatics) at +a clump of wallflowers that grew from a boss of chalk about half-way +down. Presently he lowered the glasses and, slinging them round his +neck by their lanyard, turned his attention to the cake of wax. It was +by this time quite solid, and when he had tested it, he lifted it +carefully and placed it in the empty binocular case, when I drew it +up. + +“I want you, Jervis,” Thorndyke called up, “to steady the line. I am +going down to that wallflower clump.” + +It looked extremely unsafe, but I knew it was useless to protest, so I +hitched the line around a massive stump and took a firm grip of the +“fall.” + +“Ready,” I sang out; and forthwith Thorndyke began to creep across the +face of the cliff with feet and hands clinging to almost invisible +projections. Fortunately, there was at this part no overhang, and +though my heart was in my mouth as I watched, I saw him cross the +perilous space in safety. Arrived at the clump, he drew an envelope +from his pocket, stooped and picked up some small object, which he +placed in the envelope, returning the latter to his pocket. Then he +gave me another bad five minutes while he recrossed the nearly +vertical surface to his starting-point; but at length this, too, was +safely accomplished, and when he finally climbed up over the edge and +stood beside me on solid earth, I drew a deep breath and turned to +revile him. + +“Well,” I demanded sarcastically, “what have you gathered at the risk +of your neck? Is it samphire or edelweiss?” + +He drew the envelope from his pocket, and dipping into it, produced a +cigarette-holder--a cheap bone affair, black and clammy with long +service and still holding the butt of a hand-made cigarette--and +handed it to me. I turned it over, smelled it and hastily handed it +back. “For my part,” said I, “I wouldn’t have risked the cervical +vertebrae of a yellow cat for it. What do you expect to learn from +it?” + +“Of course, I expect nothing. We are just collecting facts on the +chance that they may turn out to be relevant. Here, for instance, we +find that a man has descended, within a few yards of where Harewood +fell, by this very inconvenient route, instead of going round to the +entrance to the pit. He must have had some reason for adopting this +undesirable mode of descent. Possibly, he was in a hurry, and probably +he belonged to the district, since a stranger would not know of the +existence of this short cut. Then it seems likely that this was his +cigarette tube. If you look over, you will see by those vertical +scrapes on the chalk that he slipped and must have nearly fallen. At +that moment he probably dropped the tube, for you notice that the +wallflower clump is directly under the marks of his toes.” + +“Why do you suppose he did not recover the tube?” + +“Because the descent slopes away from the position of the clump, and +he had no trusty Jervis with a stout cord to help him to cross the +space. And if he went down this way because he was hurried, he would +not have time to search for the tube. But if the tube was not his, +still it belonged to somebody who has been here recently.” + +“Is there anything that leads you to connect this man with the crime?” + +“Nothing but time and place,” he replied. “The man has been down into +the pit close to where Harewood was robbed and possibly murdered, and +as the traces are quite recent, he must have been there near about the +time of the robbery. That is all. I am considering the traces of this +man in particular because there are no traces of any other. But we may +as well have a look at the path, which, as you see, yields good +impressions.” + +We walked slowly along the path towards Merbridge, keeping at the +edges and scrutinizing the surface closely. In the shady hollows, the +soft loam bore prints of many feet, and among them we could +distinguish one with an iron toe-tip, but it was nearly obliterated by +another studded with hob-nails. + +“We shan’t get much information here,” said Thorndyke as he turned +about. “The search party have trodden out the important prints. Let us +see if we can find out where the man with the toe-tips went to.” + +We searched the path on the Welsbury side of the chalk-pit, but found +no trace of him. Then we went into the pit, and having located the +place where he descended, sought for some other exit than the track +leading to the path. Presently, half-way up the slope, we found a +second track, bearing away in the direction of Merbridge. Following +this for some distance, we came to a small hollow at the bottom of +which was a muddy space. And here we both halted abruptly, for in the +damp ground were the clear imprints of a pair of boots which we could +see had, in addition to the toe-tips, half-tips to the heels. + +“We had better have wax casts of these,” said Thorndyke, “to compare +with the boots of the man Fletcher. I will do them while you go back +for the bicycles.” + +By the time that I returned with the machines two of the footprints +were covered with a cake each of wax, and Thorndyke had left the track +and was peering among the bushes. I inquired what he was looking for. + +“It is a forlorn hope, as Marchmont would say,” he replied, “but I am +looking to see if the will has been thrown away here. It was quite +probably jettisoned at once, and this is the most probable route for +the robber to have taken, if he knew of it. You see by the map that it +must lead nearly directly to the race-course, and it avoids both the +path and the main road. While the wax is setting we might as well look +round.” + +It seemed a hopeless enough proceeding and I agreed to it without +enthusiasm. Leaving the track on the opposite side to that which +Thorndyke was searching, I wandered among the bushes and the little +open spaces, peering about me and reminding myself of that “aged, aged +man” who + + + “Sometimes searched the grassy knolls, + For wheels of hansom cabs.” + + +I had worked my way nearly back to where I could see Thorndyke, also +returning, when my glance fell on a small, brown object caught among +the branches of a bush. It was a man’s pigskin purse; and as I picked +it out of the bush I saw that it was open and empty. + +With my prize in my hand, I hastened to the spot where Thorndyke was +lifting the wax casts. He looked up and asked, “No luck, I suppose?” + +I held out the purse, on which he pounced eagerly. “But this is most +important, Jervis,” he exclaimed. “It is almost certainly Harewood’s +purse. You see the initials, ‘J.H.,’ stamped on the flap. Then we were +right as to the direction that the robber took. And it would pay to +search this place exhaustively for the will, though we can’t do that +now, as we have to go on to Barwood. I wrote to say we were coming. We +had better get back to the path now and make for the road. Barwood is +only half an hour’s run.” + +We packed the casts in the research case (which was strapped to +Thorndyke’s bicycle), and turning back, made our way to the path. As +it was still deserted, we ventured to mount, and soon reached the +road, along which we started at a good pace towards Barwood. + +Half an hour’s ride brought us into the main street of the little +town, and when we dismounted at the police station we found the Chief +Constable himself waiting to receive us, courteously eager to assist +us, but possessed by a devouring curiosity which was somewhat +inconvenient. + +“I have done as you asked me in your letter, sir,” he said. +“Fletcher’s body is, of course, in the mortuary, but I have had all +his clothes and effects brought here; and I have had them put in my +private office, so that you can look them over in comfort.” + +“It is exceedingly good of you,” said Thorndyke, “and most helpful.” +He unstrapped the research case, and following the officer into his +sanctum, looked round with deep approval. A large table had been +cleared for the examination, and the dead pickpocket’s clothes and +effects neatly arranged at one end. + +Thorndyke’s first proceeding was to pick up the dead man’s boots--a +smart but flimsy pair of light brown leather, rather down at heel and +in need of re-soling. Neither toes nor heels bore any tips or even +nails excepting the small fastening brads. Having exhibited them to me +without remark, Thorndyke placed them on a sheet of white paper and +made a careful tracing of the soles, a proceeding that seemed to +surprise the Chief Constable, for he remarked, “I should hardly have +thought that the question of footprints would arise in this case. You +can’t charge a dead man.” + +Thorndyke agreed that this seemed to be true; and then he proceeded to +an operation that fairly made the officer’s eyes bulge. Opening the +research case--into which the officer cast an inquisitive glance--he +took out the dust-aspirator, the nozzle of which he inserted into one +after another of the dead thief’s pockets while I worked the pump. +When he had gone through them all, he opened the receiver and +extracted quite a considerable ball of dusty fluff. Placing this on a +glass slide, he tore it in halves with a pair of mounted needles and +passed one half to me, when we both fell to work “teasing” it out into +an open mesh, portions of which we separated and laid--each in a tiny +pool of glycerine--on blank-labelled glass slides, applying to each +slide its cover-glass and writing on the label, “Dust from Fletcher’s +pockets.” + +When the series was complete, Thorndyke brought out the microscope, +and fitting on a one-inch objective, quickly examined the slides, one +after another, and then pushed the microscope to me. So far as I could +see, the dust was just ordinary dust--principally made up of broken +cotton fibres with a few fibres of wool, linen, wood, jute, and others +that I could not name and some undistinguishable mineral particles. +But I made no comment, and resigning the microscope to the Chief +Constable--who glared through it, breathing hard, and remarked that +the dust was “rummy-looking stuff”--watched Thorndyke’s further +proceedings. And very odd proceedings they were. + +First he laid the five stolen watches in a row, and with a Coddington +lens minutely examined the dial of each. Then he opened the back of +each in turn and copied into his notebook the watch-repairers’ +scratched inscriptions. Next he produced from the case a number of +little vulcanite rods, and laying out five labelled slides, dropped a +tiny drop of glycerine on each, covering it at once with a watch-glass +to protect it from falling dust. Then he stuck a little label on each +watch, wrote a number on it and similarly numbered the five slides. +His next proceeding was to take out the glass of watch No. 1 and pick +up one of the vulcanite rods, which he rubbed briskly on a silk +handkerchief and passed slowly across and around the dial of the +watch, after which he held the rod close to the glycerine on slide No. +1 and tapped it sharply with the blade of his pocket-knife. Then he +dropped a cover-glass on to the glycerine and made a rapid inspection +of the specimen through the microscope. + +This operation he repeated on the other four watches, using a fresh +rod for each, and when he had finished he turned to the open-mouthed +officer. “I take it,” said he, “that the watch which has the chain +attached to it is Mr. Harewood’s watch?” + +“Yes, sir. That helped us to identify it.” + +Thorndyke looked at the watch reflectively. Attached to the bow by a +short length of green tape was a small, rather elaborate key. This my +friend picked up, and taking a fresh mounted needle, inserted it into +the barrel of the key, from which he then withdrew it with a tiny ball +of fluff on its point. I hastily prepared a slide and handed it to +him, when, with a pair of dissecting scissors, he cut off a piece of +the fluff and let it fall into the glycerine. He repeated this +manœuvre with two more slides and then labelled the three, “Key, +outside,” “middle” and “inside,” and in that order examined them under +the microscope. + +My own examination of the specimens yielded very little. They all +seemed to be common dust, though that from the face of watch No. 3 +contained a few broken fragments of what looked like animal +hairs--possibly cat’s--as also did the key-fluff marked “outside.” But +if this had any significance, I could not guess what it was. As to the +Chief Constable, he clearly looked on the whole proceeding as a sort +of legerdemain with no obvious purpose, for he remarked, as we were +packing up to go, “I am glad I’ve seen how you do it, sir. But all the +same, I think you are flogging a dead horse. We know who committed the +crime and we know he’s beyond the reach of the law.” + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “one must earn one’s fee, you know. I shall +put Fletcher’s boots and the five watches in evidence at the inquest +to-morrow, and I will ask you to leave the labels on the watches.” + +With renewed thanks and a hearty handshake he bade the courteous +officer adieu, and we rode off to catch the train to London. + +That evening, after dinner, we brought out the specimens and went over +them at our leisure; and Thorndyke added a further specimen by drawing +a knotted piece of twine through the cigarette-holder that he had +salved from the chalk-pit, and teasing out the unsavoury, black +substance that came out on the string in glycerine on a slide. When he +had examined it, he passed it to me. The dark, tarry liquid somewhat +obscured the detail, but I could make out fragments of the same animal +hairs that I had noted in the other specimens, only here they were +much more numerous. I mentioned my observation to Thorndyke. “They are +certainly parts of mammalian hairs,” I said, “and they look like the +hairs of a cat. Are they from a cat?” + +“Rabbit,” Thorndyke replied curtly; and even then, I am ashamed to +admit, I did not perceive the drift of the investigation. + + +The room in the Welsbury Town Hall had filled up some minutes before +the time fixed for the opening of the inquest, and in the interval, +when the jury had retired to view the body in the adjacent mortuary, I +looked round the assembly. Mr. Marchmont and Mr. Crowhurst were +present, and a youngish, horsey-looking man in cord breeches and +leggings, whom I correctly guessed to be Arthur Baxfield. Our friend +the Chief Constable of Barwood was also there, and with him Thorndyke +exchanged a few words in a retired corner. The rest of the company +were strangers. + +As soon as the coroner and the jury had taken their places the medical +witness was called. The cause of death, he stated, was dislocation of +the neck, accompanied by a depressed fracture of the skull. The +fracture might have been produced by a blow with a heavy, blunt +weapon, or by the deceased falling on his head. The witness adopted +the latter view, as the dislocation showed that deceased had fallen in +that manner. + +The next witness was Mr. Crowhurst, who repeated to the Court what he +had told us, and further stated that on leaving deceased’s house he +went straight home, as he had an appointment with a friend. He was +followed by Baxfield, who gave evidence to the same effect, and stated +that on leaving the house of deceased he went to his place of business +at Welsbury. He was about to retire when Thorndyke rose to +cross-examine. + +“At what time did you reach your place of business?” he asked. + +The witness hesitated for a few moments and then replied, “Half-past +four.” + +“And what time did you leave deceased’s house?” + +“Two o’clock,” was the reply. + +“What is the distance?” + +“In a direct line, about two miles. But I didn’t go direct. I took a +round in the country by Lenfield.” + +“That would take you near the race-course on the way back. Did you go +to the races?” + +“No. The races were just over when I returned.” + +There was a slight pause and then Thorndyke asked, “Do you smoke much, +Mr. Baxfield?” + +The witness looked surprised, and so did the jury, but the former +replied, “A fair amount. About fifteen cigarettes a day.” + +“What brand of cigarettes do you smoke, and what kind of tobacco is +it?” + +“I make my own cigarettes. I make them of shag.” + +Here protesting murmurs arose from the jury, and the coroner remarked +stiffly, “These questions do not appear to have much connection with +the subject of this inquiry.” + +“You may take it, sir,” replied Thorndyke, “that they have a very +direct bearing on it.” Then, turning to the witness he asked, “Do you +use a cigarette-tube?” + +“Sometimes I do,” was the reply. + +“Have you lost a cigarette-tube lately?” + +The witness directed a startled glance at Thorndyke and replied after +some hesitation, “I believe I mislaid one a little time ago.” + +“When and where did you lose that tube?” Thorndyke asked. + +“I--I really couldn’t say,” replied Baxfield, turning perceptibly +pale. + +Thorndyke opened his dispatch box, and taking out the tube that he had +salved at so much risk, handed it to the witness. “Is that the tube +that you lost?” he asked. + +At this question Baxfield turned pale as death, and the hand in which +he received the tube shook as if with a palsy. “It may be,” he +faltered. “I wouldn’t swear to it. It is like the one I lost.” + +Thorndyke took it from him and passed it to the coroner. “I am putting +this tube in evidence, sir,” said he. Then, addressing the witness, he +said, “You stated that you did not go to the races. Did you go on the +course or inside the grounds at all?” + +Baxfield moistened his lips and replied, “I just went in for a minute +or two, but I didn’t stay. The races were over, and there was a very +rough crowd.” + +“While you were in that crowd, Mr. Baxfield, did you have your pocket +picked?” + +There was an expectant silence in the Court as Baxfield replied in a +low voice: + +“Yes. I lost my watch.” + +Again Thorndyke opened the dispatch box, and taking out a watch (it +was the one that had been labelled 3), handed it to the witness. “Is +that the watch that you lost?” he asked. + +Baxfield held the watch in his trembling hand and replied +hesitatingly, “I believe it is, but I won’t swear to it.” + +There was a pause. Then, in grave, impressive tones, Thorndyke said, +“Now, Mr. Baxfield, I am going to ask you a question which you need +not answer if you consider that by doing so you would prejudice your +position in any way. That question is, When your pocket was picked, +were any articles besides this watch taken from your person? Don’t +hurry. Consider your answer carefully.” + +For some moments Baxfield remained silent, regarding Thorndyke with a +wild, affrighted stare. At length he began falteringly, “I don’t +remember missing anything----” and then stopped. + +“Could the witness be allowed to sit down, sir?” Thorndyke asked. And +when the permission had been given and a chair placed, Baxfield sat +down heavily and cast a bewildered glance round the Court. “I think,” +he said, addressing Thorndyke, “I had better tell you exactly what +happened and take my chance of the consequences. When I left my +uncle’s house on Monday, I took a circuit through the fields and then +entered Gilbert’s Copse to wait for my uncle and tell him what I +thought of his conduct in leaving the bulk of his property to a +stranger. I struck the path that I knew my uncle would take and walked +along it slowly to meet him. I did meet him--on the path, just above +where he was found--and I began to say what was in my mind. But he +wouldn’t listen. He flew into a rage, and as I was standing in the +middle of the path, he tried to push past me. In doing so he caught +his foot in a bramble and staggered back, then he disappeared through +the bushes and a few seconds after I heard a thud down below. I pulled +the bushes aside and looked down into the chalk-pit, and there I saw +him lying with his head all on one side. Now, I happened to know of a +short cut down into the pit. It was rather a dangerous climb, but I +took it to get down as quickly as possible. It was there that I +dropped the cigarette-tube. When I got to my uncle I could see that he +was dead. His skull was battered and his neck was broken. Then the +devil put into my head the idea of making away with the will. But I +knew that if I took the will only, suspicion would fall on me. So I +took most of his valuables--the wallet, his watch and chain, his purse +and his ring. The purse I emptied and threw away, and flung the ring +after it. I took the will out of the wallet--it had just been dropped +in loose--and put it in an inner pocket. Then I dropped the wallet and +the watch and chain into my outside coat pocket. + +“I struck across country, intending to make for the race-course and +drop the things among the crowd, so that they might be picked up and +safely carried away. But when I got there a gang of pickpockets saved +me the trouble; they mobbed and hustled me and cleared my pockets of +everything but my keys and the will.” + +“And what has become of the will?” asked Thorndyke. + +“I have it here.” He dipped into his breast pocket and produced a +folded paper, which he handed to Thorndyke, who opened it, and having +glanced at it, passed it to the coroner. + +That was practically the end of the inquest. The jury decided to +accept Baxfield’s statement and recorded a verdict of “Death by +Misadventure,” leaving Baxfield to be dealt with by the proper +authorities. + + +“An interesting and eminently satisfactory case,” remarked Thorndyke, +as we sat over a rather late dinner. “Essentially simple, too. The +elucidation turned, as you probably noticed, on a single illuminating +fact.” + +“I judged that it was so,” said I, “though the illumination of that +fact has not yet reached me.” + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “let us first take the general aspect of the +case as it was presented by Marchmont. The first thing, of course, +that struck one was that the loss of the will might easily have +converted Baxfield from a minor beneficiary to the sole heir. But even +if the Court agreed to recognize the will, it would have to be guided +by the statements of the only two men to whom its provisions were even +approximately known, and Baxfield could have made any statement he +pleased. It was impossible to ignore the fact that the loss of the +will was very greatly to Baxfield’s advantage. + +“When the stolen property was discovered in Fletcher’s possession it +looked, at the first glance, as if the mystery of the crime was +solved. But there were several serious inconsistencies. First, how +came Fletcher to be in this solitary wood, remote from any railway or +even road? He appeared to be a London pickpocket. When he was killed +he was travelling to London by train. It seemed probable that he had +come from London by train to ply his trade at the races. Then, as you +know, criminological experience shows that the habitual criminal is a +rigid specialist. The burglar, the coiner, the pickpocket, each keeps +strictly to his own special line. Now, Fletcher was a pickpocket, and +had evidently been picking pockets on the race-course. The +probabilities were against his being the original robber and in favour +of his having picked the pocket of the person who robbed Harewood. But +if this were so, who was that person? Once more the probabilities +suggested Baxfield. There was the motive, as I have said, and further, +the pocket-picking had apparently taken place on the race-course, and +Baxfield was known to be a frequenter of race-courses. But again, if +Baxfield were the person robbed by Fletcher, then one of the five +watches was probably Baxfield’s watch. Whether it was so or not might +have been very difficult to prove, but here came in the single +illuminating fact that I have spoken of. + +“You remember that when Marchmont opened the case he mentioned that +Baxfield was a manufacturer of felt hats, and Crowhurst told us that +he was a sort of foreman or manager of the factory.” + +“Yes, I remember, now you speak of it. But what is the bearing of the +fact?” + +“My dear Jervis!” exclaimed Thorndyke. “Don’t you see that it gave us +a touchstone? Consider, now. What is a felt hat? It is just a mass of +agglutinated rabbits’ hair. The process of manufacture consists in +blowing a jet of the more or less disintegrated hair on to a revolving +steel cone which is moistened by a spray of an alcoholic solution of +shellac. But, of course, a quantity of the finer and more minute +particles of the broken hairs miss the cone and float about in the +air. The air of the factory is thus charged with the dust of broken +rabbit hairs; and this dust settles on and penetrates the clothing of +the workers. But when clothing becomes charged with dust, that dust +tends to accumulate in the pockets and find its way into the hollows +and interstices of any objects carried in those pockets. Thus, if one +of the five watches was Baxfield’s it would almost certainly show +traces where this characteristic dust had crept under the bezel and +settled on the dial. And so it turned out to be. When I inspected +those five watches through the Coddington lens, on the dial of No. 3 +I saw a quantity of dust of this character. The electrified vulcanite +rod picked it all up neatly and transferred it to the slide, and under +the microscope its nature was obvious. The owner of this watch was +therefore, almost certainly, employed in a felt hat factory. But, of +course, it was necessary to show not only the presence of rabbit hair +in this watch, but its absence in the others and in Fletcher’s +pockets, which I did. + +“Then with regard to Harewood’s watch. There was no rabbit hair on the +dial, but there was a small quantity on the fluff from the key barrel. +Now, if that rabbit-hair had come from Harewood’s pocket it would have +been uniformly distributed through the fluff. But it was not. It was +confined exclusively to the part of the fluff that was exposed. Thus +it had come from some pocket other than Harewood’s, and the owner of +that pocket was almost certainly employed in a felt hat factory, and +was most probably the owner of watch No. 3. + +“Then there was the cigarette-tube. Its bore was loaded with rabbit +hair. But its owner had unquestionably been at the scene of the crime. +There was a clear suggestion that his was the pocket in which the +stolen watch had been carried and that he was the owner of watch No. +3. The problem was to piece this evidence together and prove +definitely who this person was. And that I was able to do by means of +a fresh item of evidence, which I acquired when I saw Baxfield at the +inquest. I suppose you noticed his boots?” + +“I am afraid I didn’t,” I had to admit. + +“Well, I did. I watched his feet constantly, and when he crossed his +legs I could see that he had iron toe-tips on his boots. That was what +gave me confidence to push the cross-examination.” + +“It was certainly a rather daring cross-examination--and rather +irregular, too,” said I. + +“It was extremely irregular,” Thorndyke agreed. “The coroner ought not +to have permitted it. But it was all for the best. If the coroner had +disallowed my questions we should have had to take criminal +proceedings against Baxfield, whereas now that we have recovered the +will, it is possible that no one will trouble to prosecute him.” + +Which, I subsequently ascertained, is what actually happened. + + + + + V. + A FISHER OF MEN + +“The man,” observed Thorndyke, “who would successfully practice the +scientific detection of crime must take all knowledge for his +province. There is no single fact which may not, in particular +circumstances, acquire a high degree of evidential value; and in such +circumstances, success or failure is determined by the possession or +non-possession of the knowledge wherewith to interpret the +significance of that fact.” + +This _obiter dictum_ was thrown off apropos of our investigation of +the case rather magniloquently referred to in the press as “The Blue +Diamond Mystery”; and more particularly of an incident which occurred +in the office of our old friend, Superintendent Miller, at Scotland +Yard. Thorndyke had called to verify the few facts which had been +communicated to him, and having put away his notebook and picked up +his green canvas-covered research case, had risen to take his leave, +when his glance fell on a couple of objects on a side-table--a leather +handbag and a walking-stick, lashed together with string, to which was +attached a descriptive label. + +He regarded them for a few moments reflectively and then glanced at +the Superintendent. + +“Derelicts?” he inquired, “or jetsam?” + +“Jetsam,” the Superintendent replied, “literally jetsam--thrown +overboard to lighten the ship.” + +Here Inspector Badger, who had been a party to the conference, looked +up eagerly. + +“Yes,” he broke in. “Perhaps the doctor wouldn’t mind having a look at +them. It’s quite a nice little problem, Doctor, and entirely in your +line.” + +“What is the problem?” asked Thorndyke. + +“It’s just this,” said Badger. “Here is a bag. Now the question is, +Whose bag is it? What sort of person is the owner? Where did he come +from and where has he gone to?” + +Thorndyke chuckled. “That seems quite simple,” said he. “A cursory +inspection ought to dispose of trivial details like those. But how did +you come by the bag?” + +“The history of the derelicts,” said Miller, “is this: About four +o’clock this morning, a constable on duty in King’s Road, Chelsea, saw +a man walking on the opposite side of the road, carrying a hand-bag. +There was nothing particularly suspicious in this, but still the +constable thought he would cross and have a closer look at him. As he +did so the man quickened his pace and, of course, the constable +quickened his. Then the man broke into a run, and so did the +constable, and a fine, stern chase started. Suddenly the man shot down +a by-street, and as the constable turned the corner he saw his quarry +turn into a sort of alley. Following him into this, and gaining on him +perceptibly, he saw that the alley ended in a rather high wall. When +the fugitive reached the wall he dropped his bag and stick and went +over like a harlequin. The constable went over after him, but not like +a harlequin--he wasn’t dressed for the part. By the time he got over, +into a large garden with a lot of fruit trees in it, my nabs had +disappeared. He traced him by his footprints across the garden to +another wall, and when he climbed over that he found himself in +another by-street. But there was no sign of our agile friend. The +constable ran up and down the street to the next crossings, blowing +his whistle, but of course it was no go. So he went back across the +garden and secured the bag and stick, which were at once sent here for +examination.” + +“And no arrest has been made?” + +“Well,” replied Miller with a faint grin, “a constable in Oakley +Street who had heard the whistle arrested a man who was carrying a +suspicious-looking object. But he turned out to be a cornet player +coming home from the theatre.” + +“Good,” said Thorndyke. “And now let us have a look at the bag, which +I take it has already been examined?” + +“Yes, we’ve been through it,” replied Miller, “but everything has been +put back as we found it.” + +Thorndyke picked up the bag and proceeded to make a systematic +inspection of its exterior. + +“A good bag,” he commented; “quite an expensive one originally, though +it has seen a good deal of service. You noticed the muddy marks on the +bottom?” + +“Yes,” said Miller. “Those were probably made when he dropped the bag +to jump over the wall.” + +“Possibly,” said Thorndyke, “though they don’t look like street mud. +But we shall probably get more information from the contents.” He +opened the bag, and after a glance at its interior, spread out on the +table a couple of sheets of foolscap from the stationery rack, on +which he began methodically to deposit the contents of the bag, +accompanying the process with a sort of running commentary on their +obvious characteristics. + +“Item one: a small leather dressing wallet. Rather shabby, but +originally of excellent quality. It contains two Swedish razors, a +little Washita hone, a diminutive strop, a folding shaving-brush, +which is slightly damp to the fingers and has a scent similar to that +of the stick of shaving soap. You notice that the hone is distinctly +concave in the middle and that the inscription on the razors, +‘Arensburg, Eskilstuna, Sweden,’ is partly ground away. Then there is +a box containing a very dry cake of soap, a little manicure set, a +well-worn toothbrush, a nailbrush, dental-brush, button-hook, +corn-razor, a small clothes-brush and a pair of small hairbrushes. It +seems to me, Badger, that this wallet suggests--mind, I only say +‘suggests’--a pretty complete answer to one of your questions.” + +“I don’t see how,” said the Inspector. “Tell us what it suggests to +you.” + +“It suggests to me,” replied Thorndyke, laying down the lens through +which he had been inspecting the hairbrushes, “a middle-aged or +elderly man with a shaven upper lip and a beard; a well-preserved, +healthy man, neat, orderly, provident and careful as to his +appearance; a man long habituated to travelling, and--though I don’t +insist on this, but the appearances suggest that he had been living +for some time in a particular household, and that at the time when he +lost the bag, he was changing his residence.” + +“He was that,” cackled the Inspector, “if the constable’s account of +the way he went over that wall is to be trusted. But still, I don’t +see how you have arrived at all those facts.” + +“Not facts, Badger,” Thorndyke corrected. “I said suggestions. And +those suggestions may be quite misleading. There may be some factor, +such as change of ownership of the wallet, which we have not allowed +for. But, taking the appearances at their face value, that is what +they suggest. There is the wallet itself, for instance--strong, +durable, but shabby with years of wear. And observe that it is a +travelling wallet and would be subjected to wear only during travel. +Then further, as to the time factor, there are the hone and the +razors. It takes a good many years to wear a Washita hone hollow or to +wear away the blade of a Swedish razor until the maker’s mark is +encroached on. The state of health, and to some extent the age, are +suggested by the toothbrush and the dental-brush. He has lost some +teeth, since he wears a plate, but not many; and he is free from +pyorrhea and alveolar absorption. You don’t wear a toothbrush down +like this on half a dozen rickety survivors. But a man whose teeth +will bear hard brushing is probably well-preserved and healthy.” + +“You say that he shaves his upper lip but wears a beard,” said the +Inspector. “How do you arrive at that?” + +“It is fairly obvious,” replied Thorndyke. “We see that he has razors +and uses them, and we also see that he has a beard.” + +“Do we?” exclaimed Badger. “How do we?” + +Thorndyke delicately picked a hair from one of the hairbrushes and +held it up. “That is not a scalp hair,” said he. “I should say that it +came from the side of the chin.” + +Badger regarded the hair with evident disfavour. “Looks to me,” he +remarked, “as if a small-tooth comb might have been useful.” + +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed, “but the appearance is deceptive. This is +what is called a moniliform hair--like a string of beads. But the +bead-like swellings are really parts of the hair. It is a diseased, or +perhaps we should say an abnormal, condition.” He handed me the hair +together with his lens, through which I examined it and easily +recognized the characteristic swellings. + +“Yes,” said I, “it is an early case of _trichorrexis nodosa_.” + +“Good Lord!” murmured the Inspector. “Sounds like a Russian nobleman. +Is it a common complaint?” + +“It is not a rare disease--if you can call it a disease,” I replied, +“but it is a rare condition, taking the population as a whole.” + +“It is rather a remarkable coincidence that it should happen to occur +in this particular case,” the Superintendent observed. + +“My dear Miller,” exclaimed Thorndyke, “surely your experience must +have impressed on you the astonishing frequency of the unusual and the +utter failure of the mathematical laws of probability in practice. +Believe me, Miller, the Bread-and-butterfly was right. It is the +exceptional that always happens.” + +Having discharged this paradox, he once more dived into the bag, and +this time handed out a singular and rather unsavoury-looking parcel, +the outer investment of which was formed by what looked like an +excessively dirty towel, but which, as Thorndyke delicately unrolled +it, was seen to be only half a towel which was supplemented by a still +dirtier and excessively ragged coloured handkerchief. This, too, being +opened out, disclosed an extremely soiled and frayed collar (which, +like the other articles, bore no name or mark), and a mass of grass, +evidently used as packing material. + +The Inspector picked up the collar and quoted reflectively, “He is a +man, neat, orderly and careful as to his appearance,” after which he +dropped the collar and ostentatiously wiped his fingers. + +Thorndyke smiled grimly but refrained from repartee as he carefully +separated the grass from the contained objects, which turned out to be +a small telescopic jemmy, a jointed auger, a screwdriver and a bunch +of skeleton keys. + +“One understands his unwillingness to encounter the constable with +these rather significant objects in his possession,” Thorndyke +remarked. “They would have been difficult to explain away.” He took up +the heap of grass between his hands and gently compressed it to test +its freshness. As he did so a tiny, cigar-shaped object dropped on the +paper. + +“What is that?” asked the Superintendent. “It looks like a chrysalis.” + +“It isn’t,” said Thorndyke. “It is a shell, a species of Clausilia, I +think.” He picked up the little shell and closely examined its mouth +through his lens. “Yes,” he continued, “it is a Clausilia. Do you +study our British mollusca, Badger?” + +“No, I don’t,” the Inspector replied with emphasis. + +“Pity,” murmured Thorndyke. “If you did, you would be interested to +learn that the name of this little shell is _Clausilia biplicata_.” + +“I don’t care what its beastly name is,” said Badger. “I want to know +whose bag this is; what the owner is like; and where he came from and +where he has gone to. Can you tell us that?” + +Thorndyke regarded the Inspector with wooden gravity. “It is all very +obvious,” said he, “very obvious. But still, I think I should like to +fill in a few details before making a definite statement. Yes, I think +I will reserve my judgment until I have considered the matter a little +further.” + +The Inspector received this statement with a dubious grin. He was in +somewhat of a dilemma. My colleague was addicted to a certain dry +facetiousness, and was probably “pulling” the Inspector’s “leg.” But, +on the other hand, I knew, and so did both the detectives, that it was +perfectly conceivable that he had actually solved Badger’s problem, +impossible as it seemed, and was holding back his knowledge until he +had seen whither it led. + +“Shall we take a glance at the stick?” said he, picking it up as he +spoke and running his eye over its not very distinctive features. It +was a common ash stick, with a crooked handle polished and darkened by +prolonged contact with an apparently ungloved hand, and it was smeared +for about three inches from the tip with a yellowish mud. The iron +shoe of the ferrule was completely worn away and the deficiency had +been made good by driving a steel boot-stud into the exposed end. + +“A thrifty gentleman, this,” Thorndyke remarked, pointing to the stud +as he measured the diameter of the ferrule with his pocket +calliper-gauge. “Twenty-three thirty-seconds is the diameter,” he +added, looking gravely at the Inspector. “You had better make a note +of that, Badger.” + +The Inspector smiled sourly as Thorndyke laid down the stick, and once +more picking up the little green canvas case that contained his +research outfit, prepared to depart. + +“You will hear from us, Miller,” he said, “if we pick up anything that +will be useful to you. And now, Jervis, we must really take ourselves +off.” + +As the tinkling hansom bore us down Whitehall towards Waterloo, I +remarked, “Badger half suspects you of having withheld from him some +valuable information in respect of that bag.” + +“He does,” Thorndyke agreed with a mischievous smile; “and he doesn’t +in the least suspect me of having given him a most illuminating hint.” + +“But did you?” I asked, rapidly reviewing the conversation and +deciding that the facts elicited from the dressing wallet could hardly +be described as hints. + +“My learned friend,” he replied, “is pleased to counterfeit +obtuseness. It won’t do, Jervis. I’ve known you too long.” + +I grinned with vexation. Evidently I had missed the point of a subtle +demonstration, and I knew that it was useless to ask further +questions; and for the remainder of our journey in the cab I struggled +vainly to recover the “illuminating hint” that the detectives--and +I--had failed to note. Indeed, so preoccupied was I with this problem +that I rather overlooked the fact that the jettisoned bag was really +no concern of ours, and that we were actually engaged in the +investigation of a crime of which, at present, I knew practically +nothing. It was not until we had secured an empty compartment and the +train had begun to move that this suddenly dawned on me; whereupon I +dismissed the bag problem and applied to Thorndyke for details of the +“Brentford Train Mystery.” + +“To call it a mystery,” said he, “is a misuse of words. It appears to +be a simple train robbery. The identity of the robber is unknown, but +there is nothing very mysterious in that; and the crime otherwise is +quite commonplace. The circumstances are these: Some time ago, Mr. +Lionel Montague, of the firm, Lyons, Montague & Salaman, art dealers, +bought from a Russian nobleman a very valuable diamond necklace and +pendant. The peculiarity of this necklace was that the stones were all +of a pale blue colour and pretty accurately matched, so that in +addition to the aggregate value of the stones--which were all of large +size and some very large--there was the value of the piece as a whole +due to this uniformity of colour. Mr. Montague gave £70,000 for it, +and considered that he had made an excellent bargain. I should mention +that Montague was the chief buyer for the firm, and that he spent most +of his time travelling about the Continent in search of works of art +and other objects suitable for the purposes of his firm, and that, +naturally, he was an excellent judge of such things. Now, it seems +that he was not satisfied with the settings of this necklace, and as +soon as he had purchased it he handed it over to Messrs. Binks, of Old +Bond Street, to have the settings replaced by others of better design. +Yesterday morning he was notified by Binks that the resetting was +completed, and in the afternoon he called to inspect the work and take +the necklace away if it was satisfactory. The interview between Binks +and Montague took place in a room behind the shop, but it appears that +Montague came out into the shop to get a better light for his +inspection; and Mr. Binks states that as his customer stood facing the +door, examining the new settings, he, Binks, noticed a man standing by +the doorway furtively watching Mr. Montague.” + +“There is nothing very remarkable in that,” said I. “If a man stands +at a shop door with a necklace of blue diamonds in his hand, he is +rather likely to attract attention.” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “But the significance of an antecedent is apt +to be more appreciated after the consequences have developed. Binks is +now very emphatic about the furtive watcher. However, to continue: Mr. +Montague, being satisfied with the new settings, replaced the necklace +in its case, put the latter into his bag--which he had brought with +him from the inner room--and a minute or so later left the shop. That +was about 5 p.m.; and he seems to have gone direct to the flat of his +partner, Mr. Salaman, with whom he had been staying for a fortnight, +at Queen’s Gate. There he remained until about half-past eight, when +he came out accompanied by Mr. Salaman. The latter carried a small +suit-case, while Montague carried a handbag in which was the necklace. +It is not known whether it contained anything else. + +“From Queen’s Gate the two men proceeded to Waterloo, walking part of +the way and covering the remainder by omnibus.” + +“By omnibus!” I exclaimed, “with seventy thousand pounds worth of +diamonds about them!” + +“Yes, it sounds odd. But people who habitually handle portable +property of great value seem to resemble those who habitually handle +explosives. They gradually become unconscious of the risks. At any +rate, that is how they went, and they arrived safely at Waterloo in +time to catch the 9.15 train for Isleworth. Mr. Salaman saw his +partner established in an empty first-class compartment and stayed +with him, chatting, until the train started. + +“Mr. Montague’s destination was Isleworth, in which rather unlikely +neighbourhood Mr. Jacob Lowenstein, late of Chicago, and now Berkeley +Square, has a sort of river-side villa with a motor boat-house +attached. Lowenstein had secured the option of purchasing the blue +diamond necklace, and Montague was taking it down to exhibit it and +carry out the deal. He was proposing to stay a few days with +Lowenstein, and then he was proceeding to Brussels on one of his +periodic tours. But he never reached Isleworth. When the train stopped +at Brentford, a porter noticed a suit-case on the luggage-rack of an +apparently empty first-class compartment. He immediately entered to +take possession of it, and was in the act of reaching up to the rack +when his foot came in contact with something soft under the seat. +Considerably startled, he stooped and peered under, when, to his +horror, he perceived the body of a man, quite motionless and +apparently dead. Instantly he darted out and rushed up the platform in +a state of wild panic until he, fortunately, ran against the station +master, with whom and another porter he returned to the compartment. +When they drew the body out from under the seat it was found to be +still breathing, and they proceeded at once to apply such restoratives +as cold water and fresh air, pending the arrival of the police and the +doctor, who had been sent for. + +“In a few minutes the police arrived accompanied by the police +surgeon, and the latter, after a brief examination, decided that the +unconscious man was suffering from the effects of a large dose of +chloroform, violently and unskilfully administered, and ordered him to +be carefully removed to a local nursing home. Meanwhile, the police +had been able, by inspecting the contents of his pockets, to identify +him as Mr. Lionel Montague.” + +“The diamonds had vanished, of course?” said I. + +“Yes. The handbag was not in the compartment, and later an empty +handbag was picked up on the permanent way between Barnes and +Chiswick, which seems to indicate the locality where the robbery took +place.” + +“And what is our present objective?” + +“We are going, on instructions from Mr. Salaman, to the nursing home +to see what information we can pick up. If Montague has recovered +sufficiently to give an account of the robbery, the police will have +a description of the robber, and there may not be much for us to do. +But you will have noticed that they do not seem to have any +information at Scotland Yard at present, beyond what I have given you. +So there is a chance yet that we may earn our fees.” + +Thorndyke’s narrative of this somewhat commonplace crime, with the +discussion which followed it, occupied us until the train stopped at +Brentford Station. A few minutes later we halted in one of the quiet +by-streets of this old-world town, at a soberly painted door on which +was a brass plate inscribed “St. Agnes Nursing Home.” Our arrival had +apparently been observed, for the door was opened by a middle-aged +lady in a nurse’s uniform. + +“Dr. Thorndyke?” she inquired; and as my colleague bowed assent she +continued: “Mr. Salaman told me you would probably call. I am afraid I +haven’t very good news for you. The patient is still quite +unconscious.” + +“That is rather remarkable,” said Thorndyke. + +“It is. Dr. Kingston, who is in charge of the case, is somewhat +puzzled by this prolonged stupor. He is inclined to suspect a +narcotic--possibly a large dose of morphine--in addition to the +effects of the chloroform and the shock.” + +“He is probably right,” said I; “and the marvel is that the man is +alive at all after such outrageous treatment.” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “He must be pretty tough. Shall we be able to +see him?” + +“Oh, yes,” the matron replied. “I am instructed to give you every +assistance. Dr. Kingston would like to have your opinion on the case.” + +With this she conducted us to a pleasant room on the first floor +where, in a bed placed opposite a large window--purposely left +uncurtained--with the strong light falling full on his face, a man lay +with closed eyes, breathing quietly and showing no sign of +consciousness when we somewhat noisily entered the room. For some time +Thorndyke stood by the bedside, looking down at the unconscious man, +listening to the breathing and noting its frequency by his watch. Then +he felt the pulse, and raising both eyelids, compared the two pupils. + +“His condition doesn’t appear alarming,” was his conclusion. “The +breathing is rather shallow, but it is quite regular, and the pulse is +not bad though slow. The contracted pupils strongly suggest opium, or +more probably morphine. But that could easily be settled by a chemical +test. Do you notice the state of the face, Jervis?” + +“You mean the chloroform burns? Yes, the handkerchief or pad must have +been saturated. But I was also noticing that he corresponds quite +remarkably with the description you were giving Badger of the owner of +the dressing wallet. He is about the age you mentioned--roughly about +fifty--and he has the same old-fashioned treatment of the beard, the +shaven upper lip and the monkey-fringe under the chin. It is rather an +odd coincidence.” + +Thorndyke looked at me keenly. “The coincidence is closer than that, +Jervis. Look at the beard itself.” + +He handed me his lens, and, stooping down, I brought it to bear on the +patient’s beard. And then I started back in astonishment; for by the +bright light I could see plainly that a considerable proportion of the +hairs were distinctly moniliform. This man’s beard, too, was affected +by an early stage of _trichorrexis nodosa!_ + +“Well!” I exclaimed, “this is really an amazing coincidence. I wonder +if it is anything more.” + +“I wonder,” said Thorndyke. “Are those Mr. Montague’s things, Matron?” + +“Yes,” she replied, turning to the side table on which the patient’s +effects were neatly arranged. “Those are his clothes and the things +which were taken from his pockets, and that is his bag. It was found +on the line and sent on here a couple of hours ago. There is nothing +in it.” + +Thorndyke looked over the various objects--keys, card-case, +pocket-book, etc.--that had been turned out of the patient’s pockets, +and then picked up the bag, which he turned over curiously and then +opened to inspect the interior. There was nothing distinctive about +it. It was just a plain, imitation leather bag, fairly new, though +rather the worse for its late vicissitudes, lined with coarse linen to +which two large, wash-leather pockets had been roughly stitched. As he +laid the bag down and picked up his own canvas case, he asked: “What +time did Mr. Salaman come to see the patient?” + +“He came here about ten o’clock this morning, and he was not able to +stay more than half an hour as he had an appointment. But he said he +would look in again this evening. You can’t stay to see him, I +suppose?” + +“I’m afraid not,” Thorndyke replied; “in fact, we must be off now for +both Dr. Jervis and I have some other matters to attend to.” + +“Are you going straight back to the chambers, Jervis?” Thorndyke +asked, as we walked down the main street towards the station. + +“Yes,” I replied in some surprise. “Aren’t you?” + +“No. I have a little expedition in view.” + +“Oh, have you?” I exclaimed, and as I spoke it began to dawn on me +that I had overestimated the importance of my other business. + +“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “the fact is that--ha! excuse me one moment, +Jervis.” He had halted abruptly outside a fishing tackle shop and now, +after a brief glance in through the window, entered with an air of +business. I immediately bolted in after him, and was just in time to +hear him demand a fishing rod of a light and inexpensive character. +When this had been supplied he asked for a line and one or two hooks; +and I was a little surprised--and the vendor was positively +scandalized--at his indifference to the quality or character of these +appliances. I believe he would have accepted cod-line and a shark-hook +if they had been offered. + +“And now I want a float,” said he. + +The shopkeeper produced a tray containing a varied assortment of +floats over which Thorndyke ran a critical eye, and finally reduced +the shopman to stupefaction by selecting a gigantic, pot-bellied, +scarlet-and-green atrocity that looked like a juvenile telegraph buoy. + +I could not let this outrage pass without comment. “You must excuse +me, Thorndyke,” I said, “if I venture to point out that the Greenland +whale no longer frequents the upper reaches of the Thames.” + +“You mind your own business,” he retorted, stolidly pocketing the +telegraph buoy when he had paid for his purchases. “I like a float +that you can see.” + +Here the shopman, recovering somewhat from the shock of surprise, +remarked deferentially that it was a long time since a really large +pike had been caught in the neighbourhood; whereupon Thorndyke +finished him off by replying: “Yes, I’ve no doubt. They don’t use the +right sort of floats, you know. Now, when the pike see my float, they +will just come tumbling over one another to get on the hook.” With +this he tucked the rod under his arm and strolled out, leaving the +shopman breathing hard and staring harder. + +“But what on earth,” I asked, as we walked down the street (watched by +the shopman, who had come out on the pavement to see the last of us), +“do you want with such an enormous float? Why, it will be visible a +quarter of a mile away.” + +“Exactly,” said Thorndyke. “And what more could a fisher of men +require?” + +This rejoinder gave me pause. Evidently Thorndyke had something in +hand of more than common interest; and again it occurred to me that my +own business engagements were of no special urgency. I was about to +mention this fact when Thorndyke again halted--at an oilshop this +time. + +“I think I will step in here and get a little burnt umber,” said he. + +I followed him into the shop, and while the powder-colour was being +weighed and made up into a little packet I reflected profoundly. +Fishing tackle and burnt umber had no obvious associations. I began to +be mystified and correspondingly inquisitive. + +“What do you want the burnt umber for?” I asked as soon as we were +outside. + +“To mix with plaster,” he replied readily. + +“But why do you want to colour the plaster? And what are you going to +do with it?” + +“Now, Jervis,” he admonished with mock severity, “you are not doing +yourself justice. An investigator of your experience shouldn’t ask for +explanations of the obvious.” + +“And why,” I continued, “did you want to know if I was going straight +back to the chambers?” + +“Because I may want some assistance later. Probably Polton will be +able to do all that I want, but I wished to know that you would both +be within reach of a telegram.” + +“But,” I exclaimed, “what nonsense it is to talk of sending a telegram +to me when I’m here!” + +“But I may not want any assistance, after all.” + +“Well,” I said doggedly, “you are going to have it whether you want it +or not. You’ve got something on and I’m going to be in it.” + +“I like your enthusiasm, Jervis,” he chuckled; “but it is quite +possible that I shall merely find a mare’s nest.” + +“Very well,” said I. “Then I’ll help you to find it. I’ve had plenty +of experience in that line, to say nothing of my natural gifts. So +lead on.” + +He led on, with a resigned smile, to the station, where we were +fortunate enough to find a train just ready to start. But our journey +was not a long one, for at Chiswick Thorndyke got out of the train, +and on leaving the station struck out eastward with a very evident air +of business. As we entered the outskirts of Hammersmith he turned into +a by-street which presently brought us out into Bridge Road. Here he +turned sharply to the right and, at the same brisk pace, crossed +Hammersmith Bridge and made his way to the towing path. As he now +slowed down perceptibly, I ventured to inquire whether this was the +spot on which he proposed to exhibit his super-float. + +“This, I think, will be our fishing-ground,” he replied; “but we will +look over it carefully and select a suitable pitch.” + +He continued to advance at an easy pace, and I noticed that, according +to his constant habit, he was studying the peculiarities of the +various feet that had trodden the path within the last day or two, +keeping, for this purpose, on the right-hand side, where the shade of +a few pollard willows overhanging an indistinct dry ditch had kept the +ground soft. We had walked on for nearly half a mile when he halted +and looked round. + +“I think we had better turn back a little way,” said he. “We seem to +have overshot our mark.” + +I made no comment on this rather mysterious observation, and we +retraced our steps for a couple of hundred yards, Thorndyke still +walking on the side farthest from the river and still keeping his eyes +fixed on the ground. Presently he again halted, and looking up and +down the path, of which we were at the moment the only occupants, +placed the canvas case on the ground and unfastened its clasps. + +“This, I think, will be our pitch,” said he. + +“What are you going to do?” I asked. + +“I am going to make one or two casts. And meanwhile you had better get +the fishing rod fixed together so as to divert the attention of any +passers by.” + +I proceeded to make ready the fishing tackle, but at the same time +kept a close watch on my colleague’s proceedings. And very curious +proceedings they were. First he dipped up a little water from the +river in the rubber mixing bowl with which he mixed a bowlful of +plaster, and into this he stirred a few pinches of burnt umber, +whereby its dazzling white was changed to a muddy buff. Then, having +looked up and down the path, he stooped and carefully poured the +plaster into a couple of impressions of a walking-stick that were +visible at the edge of the path and finished up by filling a deep +impression of the same stick, at the margin of the ditch, where it had +apparently been stuck in the soft, clayey ground. + +As I watched this operation, a sudden suspicion flashed into my mind. +Dropping the fishing rod, I walked quickly along the path until I was +able to pick up another impression of the stick. A very brief +examination of it confirmed my suspicion. At the centre of the little +shallow pit was a semicircular impression--clearly that of a half-worn +boot-stud. + +“Why!” I exclaimed, “this is the stick that we saw at Scotland Yard!” + +“I should expect it to be and I believe it is,” said Thorndyke. “But +we shall be better able to judge from the casts. Pick up your rod. +There are two men coming down the path.” + +He closed his “research case” and drawing the fishing-line from his +pocket, began meditatively to unwind it. + +“I could wish,” said I, “that our appearance was more in character +with the part of the rustic angler; and for the Lord’s sake keep that +float out of sight, or we shall collect a crowd.” + +Thorndyke laughed softly. “The float,” said he, “was intended for +Polton. He would have loved it. And the crowd would have been rather +an advantage--as you will appreciate when you come to use it.” + +The two men--builder’s labourers, apparently--now passed us with a +glance of faint interest at the fishing-tackle; and as they strolled +by, I appreciated the value of the burnt umber. If the casts had been +made of the snow-white plaster they would have stared conspicuously +from the ground and these men would almost certainly have stopped to +examine them and see what we were doing. But the tinted plaster was +practically invisible. + +“You are a wonderful man, Thorndyke,” I said, as I announced my +discovery. “You foresee everything.” + +He bowed his acknowledgments, and having tenderly felt one of the +casts and ascertained that the plaster had set hard, he lifted it with +infinite care, exhibiting a perfect facsimile of the end of the stick, +on which the worn boot-stud was plainly visible, even to the remains +of the pattern. Any doubt that might have remained as to the identity +of the stick was removed when Thorndyke produced his calliper-gauge. + +“Twenty-three thirty-seconds was the diameter, I think,” said he as he +opened the jaws of the gauge and consulted his notes. He placed the +cast between the jaws, and as they were gently slid into contact, the +index marked twenty-three thirty-seconds. + +“Good,” said Thorndyke, picking up the other two casts and +establishing their identity with the one which we had examined. “This +completes the first act.” Dropping one cast into his case and throwing +the other two into the river, he continued: “Now we proceed to the +next and hope for a like success. You notice that he stuck his stick +into the ground. Why do you suppose he did that?” + +“Presumably to leave his hands free.” + +“Yes. And now let us sit down here and consider why he wanted his +hands free. Just look around and tell me what you see.” + +I gazed rather hopelessly at the very undistinctive surroundings and +began a bald catalogue. “I see a shabby-looking pollard willow, an +assortment of suburban vegetation, an obsolete tin +saucepan--unserviceable--and a bald spot where somebody seems to have +pulled up a small patch of turf.” + +“Yes,” said Thorndyke. “You will also notice a certain amount of dry, +powdered earth distributed rather evenly over the bottom of the ditch. +And your patch of turf was cut round with a large knife before it was +pulled up. Why do you suppose it was pulled up?” + +I shook my head. “It’s of no use making mere guesses.” + +“Perhaps not,” said he, “though the suggestion is fairly obvious when +considered with the other appearances. Between the roots of the willow +you notice a patch of grass that looks denser than one would expect +from its position. I wonder----” + +As he spoke, he reached forward with his stick and prized vigorously +at the edge of the patch, with the result that the clump of grass +lifted bodily; and when I picked it up and tried it on the bald spot, +the nicety with which it fitted left no doubt as to its origin. + +“Ha!” I exclaimed, looking at the obviously disturbed earth between +the roots of the willow, which the little patch of turf had covered; +“the plot thickens. Something seems to have been either buried or dug +up there; more probably buried.” + +“I hope and believe that my learned friend is correct,” said +Thorndyke, opening his case to abstract a large, powerful spatula. + +“What do you expect to find there?” I asked. + +“I have a faint hope of finding something wrapped in the half of a +very dirty towel,” was the reply. + +“Then you had better find it quickly,” said I, “for there is a man +coming along the path from the Putney direction.” + +He looked round at the still distant figure, and driving the spatula +into the loose earth stirred it up vigorously. + +“I can feel something,” he said, digging away with powerful thrusts +and scooping the earth out with his hands. Once more he looked round +at the approaching stranger--who seemed now to have quickened his pace +but was still four or five hundred yards distant. Then, thrusting his +hands into the hole, he gave a smart pull. Slowly there came forth a +package, about ten inches by six, enveloped in a portion of a +peculiarly filthy towel and loosely secured with string. Thorndyke +rapidly cast off the string and opened out the towel, disclosing a +handsome morocco case with an engraved gold plate. + +I pounced on the case and, pressing the catch, raised the lid; and +though I had expected no less, it was with something like a shock of +surprise that I looked on the glittering row and the dazzling cluster +of steely-blue diamonds. + +As I closed the casket and deposited it in the green canvas case, +Thorndyke, after a single glance at the treasure and another along the +path, crammed the towel into the hole and began to sweep the loose +earth in on top of it. The approaching stranger was for the moment +hidden from us by a bend of the path and a near clump of bushes, and +Thorndyke was evidently working to hide all traces before he should +appear. Having filled the hole, he carefully replaced the sod of turf +and then, moving over to the little bare patch from whence the turf +had been removed, he began swiftly to dig it up. + +“There,” said he, flinging on the path a worm which he had just +disinterred, “that will explain our activities. You had better +continue the excavation with your pocket-knife, and then proceed to +the capture of the leviathans. I must run up to the police station and +you must keep possession of this pitch. Don’t move away from here on +any account until I come back or send somebody to relieve you. I will +hand you over the float; you’ll want that.” With a malicious smile he +dropped the gaudy monstrosity on the path and having wiped the spatula +and replaced it in the case, picked up the latter and moved away +towards Putney. + +At this moment the stranger reappeared, walking as if for a wager, and +I began to peck up the earth with my pocket-knife. + +As the man approached he slowed down by degrees until he came up at +something like a saunter. He was followed at a little distance by +Thorndyke, who had turned as if he had changed his mind, and now +passed me with the remark that “Perhaps Hammersmith would be better.” +The stranger cast a suspicious glance at him and then turned his +attention to me. + +“Lookin’ for worms?” he inquired, halting and surveying me +inquisitively. + +I replied by picking one up (with secret distaste) and holding it +aloft, and he continued, looking wistfully at Thorndyke’s retreating +figure: + +“Your pal seems to have had enough.” + +“He hadn’t got a rod,” said I; “but he’ll be back presently.” + +“Ah!” said he, looking steadily over my shoulder in the direction of +the willow. “Well, you won’t do any good here. The place where they +rises is a quarter of a mile farther down--just round the bend there. +That’s a prime pitch. You just come along with me and I’ll show you.” + +“I must stay here until my friend comes back,” said I. “But I’ll tell +him what you say.” + +With this I seated myself stolidly on the bank and, having flung the +baited hook into the stream, sat and glared fixedly at the +preposterous float. My acquaintance fidgeted about me uneasily, +endeavouring from time to time to lure me away to the “prime pitch” +round the bend. And so the time dragged on until three-quarters of an +hour had passed. + +Suddenly I observed two taxicabs crossing the bridge, followed by +three cyclists. A minute or two later Thorndyke reappeared, +accompanied by two other men, and then the cyclists came into view, +approaching at a rapid pace. + +“Seems to be a regular procession,” my friend remarked, viewing the +new arrivals with evident uneasiness. As he spoke, one of the cyclists +halted and dismounted to examine his tyre, while the other two +approached and shot past us. Then they, too, halted and dismounted, +and having deposited their machines in the ditch, came back towards +us. By this time I was able--with a good deal of surprise--to identify +Thorndyke’s two companions as Inspector Badger and Superintendent +Miller. Perhaps my acquaintance also recognized them, or possibly the +proceedings of the third cyclist--who had also laid down his machine +and was approaching on foot--disturbed him. At any rate he glanced +quickly from the one group to the other, and, selecting the smaller +one, sprang suddenly between the two cyclists and sped away along the +path like a hare. + +In a moment there was a wild stampede. The three cyclists, remounting +their machines, pedalled furiously after the fugitive, followed by +Badger and Miller on foot. Then the fugitive, the cyclists, and +finally the two officers disappeared round the bend of the path. + +“How did you know that he was the man?” I asked, when my colleague and +I were left alone. + +“I didn’t, though I had pretty strong grounds for suspicion. But I +merely brought the police to set a watch on the place and arrange an +ambush. Their encircling movement was just an experimental bluff; they +might have been chary of arresting the fellow if he hadn’t taken +fright and bolted. We have been fortunate all round, for, by a lucky +chance, Badger and Miller were at Chiswick making enquiries and I was +able to telephone to them to meet me at the bridge.” + +At this moment the procession reappeared, advancing briskly; and my +late adviser marched at the centre securely handcuffed. As he was +conducted past me he glared savagely and made some impolite references +to a “blooming nark.” + +“You can take him in one of the taxis,” said Miller, “and put your +bicycles on top.” Then, as the procession moved on towards the bridge +he turned to Thorndyke. “I suppose he’s the right man, Doctor, but he +hasn’t got any of the stuff on him.” + +“Of course he hasn’t,” said Thorndyke. + +“Well, do you know where it is?” + +Thorndyke opened his case and taking out the casket, handed it to the +Superintendent. “I shall want a receipt for it,” said he. + +Miller opened the casket, and at the sight of the glittering jewels +both the detectives uttered an exclamation of amazement, and the +Superintendent demanded: “Where did you get this, sir?” + +“I dug it up at the foot of that willow.” + +“But how did you know it was there?” + +“I didn’t,” replied Thorndyke; “but I thought I might as well look, +you know,” and he bestowed a smile of exasperating blandness on the +astonished officer. + +The two detectives gazed at Thorndyke, then they looked at one another +and then they looked at me; and Badger observed, with profound +conviction, that it was a “knock-out.” “I believe the doctor keeps a +tame clairvoyant,” he added. + +“And may I take it, sir,” said Miller, “that you can establish a +_prima facie_ case against this man, so that we can get a remand until +Mr. Montague is well enough to identify him?” + +“You may,” Thorndyke replied. “Let me know when and where he is to be +charged and I will attend and give evidence.” + +On this Miller wrote out a receipt for the jewels and the two officers +hurried off to their taxicab, leaving us, as Badger put it, “to our +fishing.” + +As soon as they were out of sight, Thorndyke opened his case and mixed +another bowlful of plaster. “We want two more casts,” said he; “one of +the right foot of the man who buried the jewels and one of the right +foot of the prisoner. They are obviously identical, as you can see by +the arrangement of the nails and the shape of the new patch on the +sole. I shall put the casts in evidence and compare them with the +prisoner’s right boot.” + +I understood now why Thorndyke had walked away towards Putney and then +returned in rear of the stranger. He had suspected the man and had +wanted to get a look at his footprints. But there was a good deal in +this case that I did not understand at all. + + +“There,” said Thorndyke, as he deposited the casts, each with its +pencilled identification, in his canvas case, “that is the end of the +Blue Diamond Mystery.” + +“I beg your pardon,” said I, “but it isn’t. I want a full explanation. +It is evident that from the house at Brentford you made a bee line to +that willow. You knew then pretty exactly where the necklace was +hidden. For all I know, you may have had that knowledge when we left +Scotland Yard.” + +“As a matter of fact, I had,” he replied. “I went to Brentford +principally to verify the ownership of the wallet and the bag.” + +“But what was it that directed you with such certainty to the +Hammersmith towing-path?” + +It was then that he made the observation that I have quoted at the +beginning of this narrative. + +“In this case,” he continued, “a curious fact, well known to +naturalists, acquired vital evidential importance. It associated a +bag, found in one locality, with another apparently unrelated +locality. It was the link that joined up the two ends of a broken +chain. I offered that fact to Inspector Badger, who, lacking the +knowledge wherewith to interpret it, rejected it with scorn.” + +“I remember that you gave him the name of that little shell that +dropped out of the handful of grass.” + +“Exactly,” said Thorndyke. “That was the crucial fact. It told us +where the handful of grass had been gathered.” + +“I can’t imagine how,” said I. “Surely you find shells all over the +country?” + +“That is, in general, quite true,” he replied, “but _Clausilia +biplicata_ is one of the rare exceptions. There are four British +species of these queer little univalves (which are so named from the +little spring door with which the entrance of the shell is furnished); +_Clausilia laminata_, _Rolphii_, _rugosa_ and _biplicata_. The first +three species have what we may call a normal distribution, whereas the +distribution of _biplicata_ is abnormal. This seems to be a dying +species. It is in process of becoming extinct in this island. But when +a species of animal or plant becomes extinct, it does not fade away +evenly over the whole of its _habitat_, but it disappears in patches, +which gradually extend, leaving, as it were, islands of survival. This +is what has happened to _Clausilia biplicata_. It has disappeared from +this country with the exception of two localities; one of these is in +Wiltshire, and the other is the right bank of the Thames at +Hammersmith. And this latter locality is extraordinarily restricted. +Walk down a few hundred yards towards Putney, and you have walked out +of its domain; walk up a few hundred yards towards the bridge, and +again you have walked out of its territory. Yet within that little +area it is fairly plentiful. If you know where to look--it lives on +the bark or at the roots of willow trees--you can usually find one or +two specimens. Thus, you see, the presence of that shell associated +the handful of grass with a certain willow tree, and that willow was +either in Wiltshire or by the Hammersmith towing-path. But there was +nothing otherwise to connect it with Wiltshire, whereas there was +something to connect it with Hammersmith. Let us for a moment dismiss +the shell and consider the other suggestions offered by the bag and +stick. + +“The bag, as you saw, contained traces of two very different persons. +One was apparently a middle-class man, probably middle-aged or +elderly, cleanly, careful as to his appearance and of orderly habits; +the other, uncleanly, slovenly and apparently a professional criminal. +The bag itself seemed to appertain to the former person. It was an +expensive bag and showed signs of years of careful use. This, and the +circumstances in which it was found, led us to suspect that it was a +stolen bag. Now, we knew that the contents of a bag had been stolen. +We knew that an empty bag had been picked up on the line between +Barnes and Chiswick, and it was probable that the thief had left the +train at the latter station. The empty bag had been assumed to be Mr. +Montague’s, whereas the probabilities--as, for instance, the fact of +its having been thrown out on the line--suggested that it was the +thief’s bag, and that Mr. Montague’s had been taken away with its +contents. + +“The point, then, that we had to settle when we left Scotland Yard, +was whether this apparently stolen bag had any connection with the +train robbery. But as soon as we saw Mr. Montague it was evident that +he corresponded exactly with the owner of the dressing-wallet; and +when we saw the bag that had been found on the line--a shoddy, +imitation leather bag--it was practically certain that it was not his, +while the roughly-stitched leather pockets exactly suited to the +dimensions of house-breaking tools, strongly suggested that it was a +burglar’s bag. But if this were so, then Mr. Montague’s bag had been +stolen, and the robber’s effects stuffed into it. + +“With this working hypothesis we were now able to take up the case +from the other end. The Scotland Yard bag was Montague’s bag. It had +been taken from Chiswick to the Hammersmith towpath, where--judging +from the clay smears on the bottom--it had been laid on the ground, +presumably close to a willow tree. The use of the grass as packing +suggested that something had been removed from the bag at this +place--something that had wedged the tools together and prevented them +from rattling; and there appeared to be half a towel missing. Clearly, +the towpath was our next field of exploration. + +“But, small as this area was geographically, it would have taken a +long time to examine in detail. Here, however, the stick gave us +invaluable aid. It had a perfectly distinctive tip, and it showed +traces of having been stuck about three inches into earth similar to +that on the bag. What we had thus to look for was a hole in the ground +about three inches deep, and having at the bottom the impression of a +half-worn boot-stud. This hole would probably be close to a willow. + +“The search turned out even easier than I had hoped. Directly we +reached the towpath I picked up the track of the stick, and not one +track only, but a double track, showing that our friend had returned +to the bridge. All that remained was to follow the track until it came +to an end and there we were pretty certain to find the hole in the +ground, as, in fact, we did.” + +“And why,” I asked, “do you suppose he buried the stuff?” + +“Probably as a precaution, in case he had been seen and described. +This morning’s papers will have told him that he had not been. +Probably, also, he wanted to make arrangements with a fence and didn’t +want to have the booty about him.” + + +There is little more to tell. When the case was heard on the following +morning, Thorndyke’s uncannily precise and detailed description of the +course of events, coupled with the production of the stolen property, +so unnerved the prisoner that he pleaded guilty forthwith. + +As to Mr. Montague, he recovered completely in a few days, and a +handsome pair of Georgian silver candlesticks may even to this day be +seen on our mantel-piece testifying to his gratitude and appreciation +of Thorndyke’s brilliant conduct of the case. + + + + + VI. + THE STOLEN INGOTS + +“In medico-legal practice,” Thorndyke remarked, “one must be +constantly on one’s guard against the effects of suggestion, whether +intentional or unconscious. When the facts of a case are set forth by +an informant, they are nearly always presented, consciously or +unconsciously, in terms of inference. Certain facts, which appear to +the narrator to be the leading facts, are given with emphasis and in +detail, while other facts, which appear to be subordinate or trivial, +are partially suppressed. But this assessment of evidential value must +never be accepted. The whole case must be considered and each fact +weighed separately, and then it will commonly happen that the leading +fact turns out to be the one that had been passed over as negligible.” + +The remark was made apropos of a case, the facts of which had just +been stated to us by Mr. Halethorpe, of the Sphinx Assurance Company. +I did not quite perceive its bearing at the time, but looking back +when the case was concluded, I realized that I had fallen into the +very error against which Thorndyke’s warning should have guarded me. + +“I trust,” said Mr. Halethorpe, “that I have not come at an +inconvenient time. You are so tolerant of unusual hours----” + +“My practice,” interrupted Thorndyke, “is my recreation, and I welcome +you as one who comes to furnish entertainment. Draw your chair up to +the fire, light a cigar and tell us your story.” + +Mr. Halethorpe laughed, but adopted the procedure suggested, and +having settled his toes upon the kerb and selected a cigar from the +box, he opened the subject of his call. + +“I don’t quite know what you can do for us,” he began, “as it is +hardly your business to trace lost property, but I thought I would +come and let you know about our difficulty. The fact is that our +company looks like dropping some four thousand pounds, which the +directors won’t like. What has happened is this: + +“About two months ago the London House of the Akropong Gold Fields +Company applied to us to insure a parcel of gold bars that were to be +consigned to Minton and Borwell, the big manufacturing jewellers. The +bars were to be shipped at Accra and landed at Bellhaven, which is the +nearest port to Minton and Borwell’s works. Well, we agreed to +underwrite the risk--we have done business with the Akropong people +before--and the matter was settled. The bars were put on board the +_Labadi_ at Accra, and in due course were landed at Bellhaven, where +they were delivered to Minton’s agents. So far, so good. Then came the +catastrophe. The case of bars was put on the train at Bellhaven, +consigned to Anchester, where Mintons have their factory. But the line +doesn’t go to Anchester direct. The junction is at Garbridge, a small +country station close to the river Crouch, and here the case was put +out and locked up in the station-master’s office to wait for the +Anchester train. It seems that the station-master was called away and +detained longer than he had expected, and when the train was signalled +he hurried back in a mighty twitter. However, the case was there all +right, and he personally superintended its removal to the guard’s van +and put it in the guard’s charge. All went well for the rest of the +journey. A member of the firm was waiting at Anchester station with a +closed van. The case was put into it and taken direct to the factory, +where it was opened in the private office--and found to be full of +lead pipe.” + +“I presume,” said Thorndyke, “that it was not the original case.” + +“No,” replied Halethorpe, “but it was a very fair imitation. The label +and the marks were correct, but the seals were just plain wax. +Evidently the exchange had been made in the station-master’s office, +and it transpires that although the door was securely locked, there +was an unfastened window which opened on to the garden, and there were +plain marks of feet on the flower-bed outside.” + +“What time did this happen?” asked Thorndyke. + +“The Anchester train came in at a quarter past seven, by which time, +of course, it was quite dark.” + +“And when did it happen?” + +“The day before yesterday. We heard of it yesterday morning.” + +“Are you contesting the claim?” + +“We don’t want to. Of course, we could plead negligence, but in that +case I think we should make a claim on the railway company. But, +naturally, we should much rather recover the property. After all, it +can’t be so very far away.” + +“I wouldn’t say that,” said Thorndyke. “This was no impromptu theft. +The dummy case was prepared in advance, and evidently by somebody who +knew what the real case was like, and how and when it was to be +despatched from Bellhaven. We must assume that the disposal of the +stolen case has been provided for with similar completeness. How far +is Garbridge from the river?” + +“Less than half a mile across the marshes. The +detective-inspector--Badger, I think you know him--asked the same +question.” + +“Naturally,” said Thorndyke. “A heavy object like this case is much +more easily and inconspicuously conveyed by water than on land. And +then, see what facilities for concealment a navigable river offers. +The case could be easily stowed away on a small craft, or even in a +boat; or the bars could be taken out and stowed amongst the ballast, +or even, at a pinch, dropped overboard at a marked spot and left until +the hue and cry was over.” + +“You are not very encouraging,” Halethorpe remarked gloomily. “I take +it that you don’t much expect that we shall recover those bars.” + +“We needn’t despair,” was the reply, “but I want you to understand the +difficulties. The thieves have got away with the booty, and that booty +is an imperishable material which retains its value even if broken up +into unrecognizable fragments. Melted down into small ingots, it would +be impossible to identify.” + +“Well,” said Halethorpe, “the police have the matter in +hand--Inspector Badger, of the C.I.D., is in charge of the case--but +our directors would be more satisfied if you would look into it. Of +course we would give you any help we could. What do you say?” + +“I am willing to look into the case,” said Thorndyke, “though I don’t +hold out much hope. Could you give me a note to the shipping company +and another to the consignees, Minton and Borwell?” + +“Of course I will. I’ll write them now. I have some of our stationery +in my attaché case. But, if you will pardon my saying so, you seem to +be starting your inquiry just where there is nothing to be learned. +The case was stolen after it left the ship and before it reached the +consignees--although their agent had received it from the ship.” + +“The point is,” said Thorndyke, “that this was a preconcerted robbery, +and that the thieves possessed special information. That information +must have come either from the ship or from the factory. So, while we +must try to pick up the track of the case itself, we must seek the +beginning of the clue at the two ends--the ship and the factory--from +one of which it must have started.” + +“Yes, that’s true,” said Halethorpe. “Well, I’ll write those two notes +and then I must run away; and we’ll hope for the best.” + +He wrote the two letters, asking for facilities from the respective +parties, and then took his departure in a somewhat chastened frame of +mind. + +“Quite an interesting little problem,” Thorndyke remarked, as +Halethorpe’s footsteps died away on the stairs, “but not much in our +line. It is really a police case--a case for patient and intelligent +inquiry. And that is what we shall have to do--make some careful +inquiries on the spot.” + +“Where do you propose to begin?” I asked. + +“At the beginning,” he replied. “Bellhaven. I propose that we go down +there to-morrow morning and pick up the thread at that end.” + +“What thread?” I demanded. “We know that the package started from +there. What else do you expect to learn?” + +“There are several curious possibilities in this case, as you must +have noticed,” he replied. “The question is, whether any of them are +probabilities. That is what I want to settle before we begin a +detailed investigation.” + +“For my part,” said I, “I should have supposed that the investigation +would start from the scene of the robbery. But I presume that you have +seen some possibilities that I have overlooked.” + +Which eventually turned out to be the case. + + +“I think,” said Thorndyke as we alighted at Bellhaven on the following +morning, “we had better go first to the Customs and make quite +certain, if we can, that the bars were really in the case when it was +delivered to the consignees’ agents. It won’t do to take it for +granted that the substitution took place at Garbridge, although that +is by far the most probable theory.” Accordingly we made our way to +the harbour, where an obliging mariner directed us to our destination. + +At the Custom House we were received by a genial officer, who, when +Thorndyke had explained his connection with the robbery, entered into +the matter with complete sympathy and a quick grasp of the situation. + +“I see,” said he. “You want clear evidence that the bars were in the +case when it left here. Well, I think we can satisfy you on that +point. Bullion is not a customable commodity, but it has to be +examined and reported. If it is consigned to the Bank of England or +the Mint, the case is passed through with the seals unbroken, but as +this was a private consignment, the seals will have been broken and +the contents of the case examined. Jeffson, show these gentlemen the +report on the case of gold bars from the _Labadi_.” + +“Would it be possible,” Thorndyke asked, “for us to have a few words +with the officer who opened the case? You know the legal partiality +for personal testimony.” + +“Of course it would. Jeffson, when these gentlemen have seen the +report, find the officer who signed it and let them have a talk with +him.” + +We followed Mr. Jeffson into an adjoining office where he produced the +report and handed it to Thorndyke. The particulars that it gave were +in effect those that would be furnished by the ship’s manifest and the +bill of lading. The case was thirteen inches long by twelve wide and +nine inches deep, outside measurement; and its gross weight was one +hundred and seventeen pounds three ounces, and it contained four bars +of the aggregate weight of one hundred and thirteen pounds two ounces. + +“Thank you,” said Thorndyke, handing back the report. “And now can we +see the officer--Mr. Byrne, I think--just to fill in the details?” + +“If you will come with me,” replied Mr. Jeffson, “I’ll find him for +you. I expect he is on the wharf.” + +We followed our conductor out on to the quay among a litter of cases, +crates and barrels, and eventually, amidst a battalion of Madeira wine +casks, found the officer deep in problems of “content and ullage,” and +other customs mysteries. As Jeffson introduced us, and then discreetly +retired, Mr. Byrne confronted us with a mahogany face and a truculent +blue eye. + +“With reference to this bullion,” said Thorndyke, “I understand that +you weighed the bars separately from the case?” + +“Oi did,” replied Mr. Byrne. + +“Did you weigh each bar separately?” + +“Oi did not,” was the concise reply. + +“What was the appearance of the bars--I mean as to shape and size? +Were they of the usual type?” + +“Oi’ve not had a great deal to do with bullion,” said Mr. Byrne, “but +Oi should say that they were just ordinary gold bars, about nine +inches long by four wide and about two inches deep.” + +“Was there much packing material in the case?” + +“Very little. The bars were wrapped in thick canvas and jammed into +the case. There wouldn’t be more than about half an inch clearance all +round to allow for the canvas. The case was inch and a half stuff +strengthened with iron bands.” + +“Did you seal the case after you had closed it up?” + +“Oi did. ’Twas all shipshape when it was passed back to the mate. And +Oi saw him hand it over to the consignees’ agents; so ’twas all in +order when it left the wharf.” + +“That was what I wanted to make sure of,” said Thorndyke; and, having +pocketed his notebook and thanked the officer, he turned away among +the wilderness of merchandise. + +“So much for the Customs,” said he. “I am glad we went there first. As +you have no doubt observed, we have picked up some useful +information.” + +“We have ascertained,” I replied, “that the case was intact when it +was handed over to the consignees’ agents, so that our investigations +at Garbridge will start from a solid basis. And that, I take it, is +all you wanted to know.” + +“Not quite all,” he rejoined. “There are one or two little details +that I should like to fill in. I think we will look in on the shipping +agents and present Halethorpe’s note. We may as well learn all we can +before we make our start from the scene of the robbery.” + +“Well,” I said. “I don’t see what more there is to learn here. But +apparently you do. That seems to be the office, past those sheds.” + +The manager of the shipping agent’s office looked us up and down as he +sat at his littered desk with Halethorpe’s letter in his hand. + +“You’ve come about that bullion that was stolen,” he said brusquely. +“Well, it wasn’t stolen here. Hadn’t you better inquire at Garbridge, +where it was?” + +“Undoubtedly,” replied Thorndyke. “But I am making certain preliminary +inquiries. Now, first, as to the bill of lading. Who has that--the +original, I mean?” + +“The captain has it at present, but I have a copy.” + +“Could I see it?” Thorndyke asked. + +The manager raised his eyebrows protestingly, but produced the +document from a file and handed it to Thorndyke, watching him +inquisitively as he copied the particulars of the package into his +notebook. + +“I suppose,” said Thorndyke as he returned the document, “you have a +copy of the ship’s manifest?” + +“Yes,” replied the manager, “but the entry in the manifest is merely a +copy of the particulars given in the bill of lading.” + +“I should like to see the manifest, if it is not troubling you too +much.” + +“But,” the other protested impatiently, “the manifest contains no +information respecting this parcel of bullion excepting the one entry, +which, as I have told you, has been copied from the bill of lading.” + +“I realize that,” said Thorndyke; “but I should like to look over it, +all the same.” + +Our friend bounced into an inner office and presently returned with a +voluminous document, which he slapped down on a side-table. + +“There, sir,” he said. “That is the manifest. This is the entry +relating to the bullion that you are enquiring about. The rest of the +document is concerned with the cargo, in which I presume you are not +interested.” + +In this, however, he was mistaken; for Thorndyke, having verified the +bullion entry, turned the leaves over and began systematically, though +rapidly, to run his eye over the long list from the beginning, a +proceeding that the manager viewed with frenzied impatience. + +“If you are going to read it right through, sir,” the latter observed, +“I shall ask you to excuse me. Art is long but life is short,” he +added with a sour smile. + +Nevertheless he hovered about uneasily, and when Thorndyke proceeded +to copy some of the entries into his notebook, he craned over and read +them without the least disguise, though not without comment. + +“Good God, sir!” he exclaimed. “What possible bearing on this robbery +can that parcel of scrivelloes have? And do you realize that they are +still in the ship’s hold?” + +“I inferred that they were, as they are consigned to London,” +Thorndyke replied, drawing his finger down the “description” column +and rapidly scanning the entries in it. The manager watched that +finger, and as it stopped successively at a bag of gum copal, a case +of quartz specimens, a case of six-inch brass screw-bolts, a bag of +beni-seed and a package of kola nuts, he breathed hard and muttered +like an angry parrot. But Thorndyke was quite unmoved. With calm +deliberation he copied out each entry, conscientiously noting the +marks, descriptions of packages and contents, gross and net weight, +dimensions, names of consignors and consignees, ports of shipment and +discharge, and, in fact, the entire particulars. It was certainly an +amazing proceeding, and I could make no more of it than could our +impatient friend. + +At last Thorndyke closed and pocketed his note-book, and the manager +heaved a slightly obtrusive sigh. “Is there nothing more, sir?” he +asked. “You don’t want to examine the ship, for instance?” The next +moment, I think, he regretted his sarcasm, for Thorndyke inquired with +evident interest: “Is the ship still here?” + +“Yes,” was the unwilling admission. “She finishes unloading here at +midday to-day and will probably haul into the London Docks to-morrow +morning.” + +“I don’t think I need go on board,” said Thorndyke, “but you might +give me a card in case I find that I want to.” + +The card was somewhat grudgingly produced, and when Thorndyke had +thanked our entertainer for his help, we took our leave and made our +way towards the station. + +“Well,” I said, “you have collected a vast amount of curious +information, but I am hanged if I can see that any of it has the +slightest bearing on our inquiry.” + +Thorndyke cast on me a look of deep reproach. “Jervis!” he exclaimed, +“you astonish me; you do, indeed. Why, my dear fellow, it stares you +in the face!” + +“When you say ‘it,’” I said a little irritably, “you mean----?” + +“I mean the leading fact from which we may deduce the _modus operandi_ +of this robbery. You shall look over my notes in the train and sort +out the data that we have collected. I think you will find them +extremely illuminating.” + +“I doubt it,” said I. “But, meanwhile, aren’t we wasting a good deal +of time? Halethorpe wants to get the gold back; he doesn’t want to +know how the thieves contrived to steal it.” + +“That is a very just remark,” answered Thorndyke. “My learned friend +displays his customary robust common sense. Nevertheless, I think that +a clear understanding of the mechanism of this robbery will prove very +helpful to us, though I agree with you that we have spent enough time +on securing our preliminary data. The important thing now is to pick +up a trail from Garbridge. But I see our train is signalled. We had +better hurry.” + +As the train rumbled into the station, we looked out for an empty +smoking compartment, and having been fortunate enough to secure one, +we settled ourselves in opposite corners and lighted our pipes. Then +Thorndyke handed me his notebook and as I studied, with wrinkled +brows, the apparently disconnected entries, he sat and observed me +thoughtfully and with the faintest suspicion of a smile. Again and +again I read through those notes with ever-dwindling hopes of +extracting the meaning that “stared me in the face.” Vainly did I +endeavour to connect gum copal, scrivelloes or beni-seed with the +methods of the unknown robbers. The entries in the notebook persisted +obstinately in remaining totally disconnected and hopelessly +irrelevant. At last I shut the book with a savage snap and handed it +back to its owner. + +“It’s no use, Thorndyke,” I said. “I can’t see the faintest glimmer of +light.” + +“Well,” said he, “it isn’t of much consequence. The practical part of +our task is before us, and it may turn out a pretty difficult part. +But we have got to recover those bars if it is humanly possible. And +here we are at our jumping-off place. This is Garbridge Station--and +I see an old acquaintance of ours on the platform.” + +I looked out, as the train slowed down, and there, sure enough, was no +less a person than Inspector Badger of the Criminal Investigation +Department. + +“We could have done very well without Badger,” I remarked. + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, “but we shall have to take him into +partnership, I expect. After all, we are on his territory and on the +same errand. How do you do, Inspector?” he continued, as the officer, +having observed our descent from the carriage, hurried forward with +unwonted cordiality. + +“I rather expected to see you here, sir,” said he. “We heard that Mr. +Halethorpe had consulted you. But this isn’t the London train.” + +“No,” said Thorndyke. “We’ve been to Bellhaven, just to make sure that +the bullion was in the case when it started.” + +“I could have told you that two days ago,” said Badger. “We got on to +the Customs people at once. That was all plain sailing; but the rest +of it isn’t.” + +“No clue as to how the case was taken away?” + +“Oh, yes; that is pretty clear. It was hoisted out, and the dummy +hoisted in, through the window of the station-master’s office. And the +same night, two men were seen carrying a heavy package, about the size +of the bullion-case, towards the marshes. But there the clue ends. The +stuff seems to have vanished into thin air. Of course our people are +on the look-out for it in various likely directions, but I am staying +here with a couple of plain-clothes men. I’ve a conviction that it is +still somewhere in this neighbourhood, and I mean to stick here in the +hope that I may spot somebody trying to move it.” + +As the inspector was speaking we had been walking slowly from the +station towards the village, which was on the opposite side of the +river. On the bridge Thorndyke halted and looked down the river and +over the wide expanse of marshy country. + +“This is an ideal place for a bullion robbery,” he remarked. “A tidal +river near to the sea and a network of creeks, in any one of which one +could hide a boat or sink the booty below tide-marks. Have you heard +of any strange craft having put in here?” + +“Yes. There’s a little ramshackle bawley from Leigh--but her crew of +two ragamuffins are not Leigh men. And they’ve made a mess of their +visit--got their craft on the mud on the top of the spring tide. There +she is, on that spit; and there she’ll be till next spring tide. But +I’ve been over her carefully and I’ll swear the stuff isn’t aboard +her. I had all the ballast out and emptied the lazarette and the chain +locker.” + +“And what about the barge?” + +“She’s a regular trader here. Her crew--the skipper and his son--are +quite respectable men and they belong here. There they go in that +boat; I expect they are off on this tide. But they seem to be making +for the bawley.” + +As he spoke the inspector produced a pair of glasses, through which he +watched the movements of the barge’s jolly-boat, and a couple of +elderly fishermen, who were crossing the bridge, halted to look on. +The barge’s boat ran alongside the stranded bawley, and one of the +rowers hailed; whereupon two men tumbled up from the cabin and dropped +into the boat, which immediately pushed off and headed for the barge. + +“Them bawley blokes seems to be taking a passage along of old Bill +Somers,” one of the fishermen remarked, levelling a small telescope at +the barge as the boat drew alongside and the four men climbed on +board. “Going to work their passage, too,” he added as the two +passengers proceeded immediately to man the windlass while the crew +let go the brails and hooked the main-sheet block to the traveller. + +“Rum go,” commented Badger, glaring at the barge through his glasses; +“but they haven’t taken anything aboard with them. I could see that.” + +“You have overhauled the barge, I suppose?” said Thorndyke. + +“Yes. Went right through her. Nothing there. She’s light. There was no +place aboard her where you could hide a split-pea.” + +“Did you get her anchor up?” + +“No,” replied Badger. “I didn’t. I suppose I ought to have done so. +However, they’re getting it up themselves now.” As he spoke, the rapid +clink of a windlass-pawl was borne across the water, and through my +prismatic glasses I could see the two passengers working for all they +were worth at the cranks. Presently the clink of the pawl began to +slow down somewhat and the two bargemen, having got the sails set, +joined the toilers at the windlass, but even then there was no great +increase of speed. + +“Anchor seems to come up uncommon heavy,” one of the fishermen +remarked. + +“Aye,” the other agreed. “Got foul of an old mooring maybe.” + +“Look out for the anchor, Badger,” Thorndyke said in a low voice, +gazing steadily through his binocular. “It is out of the ground. The +cable is up and down and the barge is drifting off on the tide.” + +Even as he spoke the ring and stock of the anchor rose slowly out of +the water, and now I could see that a second chain was shackled +loosely to the cable, down which it had slid until it was stopped by +the ring of the anchor. Badger had evidently seen it too, for he +ejaculated, “Hallo!” and added a few verbal flourishes which I need +not repeat. A few more turns of the windlass brought the flukes of the +anchor clear of the water, and dangling against them was an undeniable +wooden case, securely slung with lashings of stout chain. Badger +cursed volubly, and, turning to the fishermen, exclaimed in a rather +offensively peremptory tone: + +“I want a boat. Now. This instant.” + +The elder piscator regarded him doggedly and replied: “All right. I +ain’t got no objection.” + +“Where can I get a boat?” the inspector demanded, nearly purple with +excitement and anxiety. + +“Where do you think?” the mariner responded, evidently nettled by the +inspector’s masterful tone. “Pastrycook’s? Or livery stables?” + +“Look here,” said Badger. “I’m a police officer and I want to board +that barge, and I am prepared to pay handsomely. Now where can I get a +boat?” + +“We’ll put you aboard of her,” replied the fisherman, “that is, if we +can catch her. But I doubt it. She’s off, that’s what she is. And +there’s something queer a-going on aboard of her,” he added in a +somewhat different tone. + +There was. I had been observing it. The case had been, with some +difficulty, hoisted on board, and then suddenly there had broken out +an altercation between the two bargees and their passengers, and this +had now developed into what looked like a free fight. It was difficult +to see exactly what was happening, for the barge was drifting rapidly +down the river, and her sails, blowing out first on one side and then +on the other, rather obscured the view. Presently, however, the sails +filled and a man appeared at the wheel; then the barge jibed round, +and with a strong ebb tide and a fresh breeze, very soon began to grow +small in the distance. + +Meanwhile the fishermen had bustled off in search of a boat, and the +inspector had raced to the bridgehead, where he stood gesticulating +frantically and blowing his whistle, while Thorndyke continued +placidly to watch the receding barge through his binocular. + +“What are we going to do?” I asked, a little surprised at my +colleague’s inaction. + +“What can we do?” he asked in reply. “Badger will follow the barge. He +probably won’t overtake her, but he will prevent her from making a +landing until they get out into the estuary, and then he may possibly +get assistance. The chase is in his hands.” + +“Are we going with him?” + +“I am not. This looks like being an all-night expedition, and I must +be at our chambers to-morrow morning. Besides, the chase is not our +affair. But if you would like to join Badger there is no reason why +you shouldn’t. I can look after the practice.” + +“Well,” I said, “I think I should rather like to be in at the death, +if it won’t inconvenience you. But it is possible that they may get +away with the booty.” + +“Quite,” he agreed; “and then it would be useful to know exactly how +and where it disappears. Yes, go with them, by all means, and keep a +sharp look-out.” + +At this moment Badger returned with the two plain-clothes men whom his +whistle had called from their posts, and simultaneously a boat was +seen approaching the steps by the bridge, rowed by the two fishermen. +The inspector looked at us inquiringly. “Are you coming to see the +sport?” he asked. + +“Doctor Jervis would like to come with you,” Thorndyke replied. “I +have to get back to London. But you will be a fair boat-load without +me.” + +This appeared to be also the view of the two fishermen, as they +brought up at the steps and observed the four passengers; but they +made no demur beyond inquiring if there were not any more; and when we +had taken our places in the stern sheets, they pushed off and pulled +through the bridge and away down stream. Gradually, the village +receded and the houses and the bridge grew small and more distant, +though they remained visible for a long time over the marshy levels; +and still, as I looked back through my glasses, I could see Thorndyke +on the bridge, watching the pursuit with his binocular to his eyes. + +Meanwhile the fugitive barge, having got some two miles start, seemed +to be drawing ahead. But it was only at intervals that we could see +her, for the tide was falling fast and we were mostly hemmed in by the +high, muddy banks. Only when we entered a straight reach of the river +could we see her sails over the land; and every time that she came +into view, she appeared perceptibly smaller. + +When the river grew wider, the mast was stepped and a good-sized +lug-sail hoisted, though one of the fishermen continued to ply his oar +on the weather side, while the other took the tiller. This improved +our pace appreciably; but still, whenever we caught a glimpse of the +barge, it was evident that she was still gaining. + +On one of these occasions the man at the tiller, standing up to get a +better view, surveyed our quarry intently for nearly a minute and then +addressed the inspector. + +“She’s a-going to give us the go-by, mister,” he observed with +conviction. + +“Still gaining?” asked Badger. + +“Aye. She’s a-going to slip across the tail of Foulness Sand into the +deep channel. And that’s the last we shall see of her.” + +“But can’t we get into the channel the same way?” demanded Badger. + +“Well, d’ye see,” replied the fisherman, “’tis like this. Tide’s +a-running out, but there’ll be enough for her. It’ll just carry her +out through the Whitaker Channel and across the spit. Then it’ll turn, +and up she’ll go, London way, on the flood. But we shall catch the +flood-tide in the Whitaker Channel, and a rare old job we’ll have to +get out; and when we do get out, that barge’ll be miles away.” + +The inspector swore long and earnestly. He even alluded to himself as +a “blithering idiot.” But that helped matters not at all. The +fisherman’s dismal prophecy was fulfilled in every horrid detail. When +we were approaching the Whitaker Channel the barge was just crossing +the spit, and the last of the ebb-tide was trickling out. By the time +we were fairly in the Channel the tide had turned and was already +flowing in with a speed that increased every minute; while over the +sand we could see the barge, already out in the open estuary, heading +to the west on the flood-tide at a good six knots. + +Poor Badger was frantic. With yearning eyes fixed on the dwindling +barge, he cursed, entreated, encouraged and made extravagant offers. +He even took an oar and pulled with such desperate energy that he +caught a crab and turned a neat back somersault into the fisherman’s +lap. The two mariners pulled until their oars bent like canes; but +still the sandy banks crept by, inch by inch, and ever the turbid +water seemed to pour up the channel more and yet more swiftly. It was +a fearful struggle and seemed to last for hours; and when, at last, +the boat crawled out across the spit and the exhausted rowers rested +on their oars, the sun was just setting and the barge had disappeared +into the west. + +I was really sorry for Badger. His oversight in respect of the anchor +was a very natural one for a landsman, and he had evidently taken +infinite pains over the case and shown excellent judgment in keeping +a close watch on the neighbourhood of Garbridge; and now, after all +his care, it looked as if both the robbers and their booty had slipped +through his fingers. It was desperately bad luck. + +“Well,” said the elder fisherman, “they’ve give us a run for our +money; but they’ve got clear away. What’s to be done now, mister?” + +Badger had nothing to suggest excepting that we should pull or sail up +the river in the hope of getting some assistance on the way. He was in +the lowest depths of despair and dejection. But now, when Fortune +seemed to have deserted us utterly, and failure appeared to be an +accomplished fact, Providence intervened. + +A small steam vessel that had been approaching from the direction of +the East Swin suddenly altered her course and bore down as if to speak +us. The fisherman who had last spoken looked at her attentively for a +few moments and then slapped his thigh. “Saved, by gum!” he exclaimed. +“This’ll do your trick, mister. Here comes a Customs cruiser.” + +Instantly the two fishermen bent to their oars to meet the oncoming +craft, and in a few minutes we were alongside, Badger hailing like a +bull of Bashan. A brief explanation to the officer in charge secured a +highly sympathetic promise of help. We all scrambled up on deck; the +boat was dropped astern at the scope of her painter; the engine-room +bell jangled merrily, and the smart, yacht-like vessel began to forge +ahead. + +“Now then,” said the officer, as his craft gathered way, “give us a +description of this barge. What is she like?” + +“She’s a small stumpy,” the senior fisherman explained, “flying light; +wants paint badly; steers with a wheel; green transom with _Bluebell, +Maldon_, cut in and gilded. Seemed to be keeping along the north +shore.” + +With these particulars in his mind, the officer explored the western +horizon with a pair of night-glasses, although it was still broad +daylight. Presently he reported: “There’s a stumpy in a line with the +Blacktail Spit buoy. Just take a look at her.” He handed his glasses +to the fisherman, who, after a careful inspection of the stranger, +gave it as his opinion that she was our quarry. “Probably makin’ for +Southend or Leigh,” said he, and added: “I’ll bet she’s bound for +Benfleet Creek. Nice quiet place, that, to land the stuff.” + +Our recent painful experience was now reversed, for as our swift +little vessel devoured the miles of water, the barge, which we were +all watching eagerly, loomed up larger every minute. By the time we +were abreast of the Mouse Lightship, she was but a few hundred yards +ahead, and even through my glasses, the name _Bluebell_ was clearly +legible. Badger nearly wept with delight; the officer in charge smiled +an anticipatory smile; the deck-hands girded up their loins for the +coming capture and the plain-clothes men each furtively polished a +pair of handcuffs. + +At length the little cruiser came fairly abreast of the barge--not +unobserved by the two men on her deck. Then she sheered in suddenly +and swept alongside. One hand neatly hooked a shroud with a grappling +iron and made fast while a couple of preventive officers, the +plain-clothes men and the inspector jumped down simultaneously on to +the barge’s deck. For a moment, the two bawley men were inclined to +show fight; but the odds were too great. After a perfunctory scuffle +they both submitted to be handcuffed and were at once hauled up on +board the cruiser and lodged in the fore-peak under guard. Then the +chief officer, the two fishermen and I jumped on board the barge and +followed Badger down the companion hatch to the cabin. + +It was a curious scene that was revealed in that little cupboard-like +apartment by the light of Badger’s electric torch. On each of the two +lockers was stretched a man, securely lashed with lead-line and having +drawn over his face a knitted stocking cap, while on the little +triangular fixed table rested an iron-bound box which I instantly +identified by my recollection of the description of the bullion case +in the ship’s manifest. It was but the work of a minute to liberate +the skipper and his son and send them up, wrathful but substantially +uninjured, to refresh on the cruiser; and then the ponderous +treasure-chest was borne in triumph by two muscular deck-hands, up the +narrow steps, to be hoisted to the Government vessel. + +“Well, well,” said the inspector, mopping his face with his +handkerchief, “all’s well that ends well; but I thought I had lost the +men and the stuff that time. What are you going to do? I shall stay on +board as this boat is going right up to the Custom House in London; +but if you want to get home sooner, I dare say the chief officer will +put you ashore at Southend.” + +I decided to adopt this course, and I was accordingly landed at +Southend Pier with a telegram from Badger to his head-quarters; and at +Southend I was fortunate enough to catch an express train which +brought me to Fenchurch Street while the night was still young. + +When I reached our chambers, I found Thorndyke seated by the fire, +serenely studying a brief. He stood up as I entered and, laying aside +the brief, remarked: + +“You are back sooner than I expected. How sped the chase? Did you +catch the barge?” + +“Yes. We’ve got the men and we’ve got the bullion. But we very nearly +lost both;” and here I gave him an account of the pursuit and the +capture, to which he listened with the liveliest interest. “That +Customs cruiser was a piece of sheer luck,” said he, when I had +concluded. “I am delighted. This capture simplifies the case for us +enormously.” + +“It seems to me to dispose of the case altogether,” said I. “The +property is recovered and the thieves are in custody. But I think most +of the credit belongs to Badger.” + +Thorndyke smiled enigmatically. “I should let him have it all, +Jervis,” he said; and then, after a reflective pause, he continued: +“We will go round to Scotland Yard in the morning to verify the +capture. If the package agrees with the description in the bill of +lading, the case, as you say, is disposed of.” + +“It is hardly necessary,” said I. “The marks were all correct and the +Customs seals were unbroken--but still, I know you won’t be satisfied +until you have verified everything for yourself. And I suppose you are +right.” + + +It was past eleven in the following forenoon when we invaded +Superintendent Miller’s office at Scotland Yard. That genial officer +looked up from his desk as we entered and laughed joyously. “I told +you so, Badger,” he chuckled, turning to the inspector, who had also +looked up and was regarding us with a foxy smile. “I knew the doctor +wouldn’t be satisfied until he had seen it with his own eyes. I +suppose that is what you have come for, sir?” + +“Yes,” was the reply. “It is a mere formality, of course, but, if you +don’t mind----” + +“Not in the least,” replied Miller. “Come along, Badger, and show the +doctor your prize.” + +The two officers conducted us to a room, which the superintendent +unlocked, and which contained a small table, a measuring standard, a +weighing machine, a set of Snellen’s test-types, and the now historic +case of bullion. The latter Thorndyke inspected closely, checking the +marks and dimensions by his notes. + +“I see you haven’t opened it,” he remarked. + +“No,” replied Miller. “Why should we? The Customs seals are intact.” + +“I thought you might like to know what was inside,” Thorndyke +explained. + +The two officers looked at him quickly and the inspector exclaimed: +“But we do know. It was opened and checked at the Customs.” + +“What do you suppose is inside?” Thorndyke asked. + +“I don’t suppose,” Badger replied testily. “I know. There are four +bars of gold inside.” + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “as the representative of the Assurance +Company, I should like to see the contents of that case.” + +The two officers stared at him in amazement, as also, I must admit, +did I. The implied doubt seemed utterly contrary to reason. + +“This is scepticism with a vengeance!” said Miller. “How on earth is +it possible--but there, I suppose if you are not satisfied, we should +be justified----” + +He glanced at his subordinate, who snorted impatiently: “Oh, open it +and let him see the bars. And then, I suppose, he will want us to make +an assay of the metal.” + +The superintendent retired with wrinkled brows and presently returned +with a screwdriver, a hammer and a case-opener. Very deftly he broke +the seals, extracted the screws and prized up the lid of the case, +inside which were one or two folds of thick canvas. Lifting these with +something of a flourish, he displayed the upper pair of dull, yellow +bars. + +“Are you satisfied now, sir?” demanded Badger. “Or do you want to see +the other two?” + +Thorndyke looked reflectively at the two bars, and the two officers +looked inquiringly at him (but one might as profitably have watched +the expression on the face of a ship’s figurehead). Then he took from +his pocket a folding foot-rule and quickly measured the three +dimensions of one of the bars. + +“Is that weighing machine reliable?” he asked. + +“It is correct to an ounce,” the superintendent replied, gazing at my +colleague with a slightly uneasy expression. “Why?” + +By way of reply Thorndyke lifted out the bar that he had measured and +carrying it across to the machine, laid it on the platform and +carefully adjusted the weights. + +“Well?” the superintendent queried anxiously, as Thorndyke took the +reading from the scale. + +“Twenty-nine pounds, three ounces,” replied Thorndyke. + +“Well?” repeated the superintendent. “What about it?” + +Thorndyke looked at him impassively for a moment, and then, in the +same quiet tone, answered: “Lead.” + +“What!” the two officers shrieked in unison, darting across to the +scale and glaring at the bar of metal. Then Badger recovered himself +and expostulated, not without temper, “Nonsense, sir. Look at it. +Can’t you see that it is gold?” + +“I can see that it is gilded,” replied Thorndyke. + +“But,” protested Miller, “the thing is impossible! What makes you +think it is lead?” + +“It is just a question of specific gravity,” was the reply. “This bar +contains seventy-two cubic inches of metal and it weighs twenty-nine +pounds three ounces. Therefore it is a bar of lead. But if you are +still doubtful, it is quite easy to settle the matter. May I cut a +small piece off the bar?” + +The superintendent gasped and looked at his subordinate. “I suppose,” +said he, “under the circumstances--eh, Badger? Yes. Very well, +Doctor.” + +Thorndyke produced a strong pocket-knife, and, having lifted the bar +to the table, applied the knife to one corner and tapped it smartly +with the hammer. The blade passed easily through the soft metal, and +as the detached piece fell to the floor, the two officers and I craned +forward eagerly. And then all possible doubts were set at rest. There +was no mistaking the white, silvery lustre of the freshly-cut surface. + +“Snakes!” exclaimed the superintendent. “This is a fair knock-out! +Why, the blighters have got away with the stuff, after all! Unless,” +he added, with a quizzical look at Thorndyke, “you know where it is, +Doctor. I expect you do.” + +“I believe I do,” said Thorndyke, “and if you care to come down with +me to the London Docks, I think I can hand it over to you.” + +The superintendent’s face brightened appreciably. Not so Badger’s. +That afflicted officer flung down the chip of metal that he had been +examining, and, turning to Thorndyke, demanded sourly: “Why didn’t you +tell us this before, sir? You let me go off chivvying that damn barge, +and you knew all the time that the stuff wasn’t on board.” + +“My dear Badger,” Thorndyke expostulated, “don’t you see that these +lead bars are essential to our case? They prove that the gold bars +were never landed and that they are consequently still on the ship. +Which empowers us to detain any gold that we may find on her.” + +“There, now, Badger,” said the superintendent, “it’s no use for you to +argue with the doctor. He’s like a giraffe. He can see all round him +at once. Let us get on to the Docks.” + +Having locked the room, we all sallied forth, and, taking a train at +Charing Cross Station, made our way by Mark Lane and Fenchurch Street +to Wapping, where, following Thorndyke, we entered the Docks and +proceeded straight to a wharf near the Wapping entrance. Here +Thorndyke exchanged a few words with a Customs official, who hurried +away and presently returned accompanied by an officer of higher rank. +The latter, having saluted Thorndyke and cast a slightly amused glance +at our little party, said: “They’ve landed that package that you spoke +about. I’ve had it put in my office for the present. Will you come and +have a look at it?” + +We followed him to his office behind a long row of sheds, where, on a +table, was a strong wooden case, somewhat larger than the “bullion” +case, while, on the desk a large, many-leaved document lay open. + +“This is your case, I think,” said the official; “but you had better +check it by the manifest. Here is the entry: ‘One case containing +seventeen and three-quarter dozen brass six-inch by three-eighths +screw-bolts with nuts. Dimensions, sixteen inches by thirteen by nine. +Gross weight a hundred and nineteen pounds; net weight a hundred and +thirteen pounds.’ Consigned to ‘Jackson and Walker, 593, Great Alie +Street, London, E.’ Is that the one?” + +“That is the one,” Thorndyke replied. + +“Then,” said our friend, “we’ll get it open and have a look at those +brass screw-bolts.” + +With a dexterity surprising in an official of such high degree, he had +the screws out in a twinkling, and prizing up the lid, displayed a +fold of coarse canvas. As he lifted this the two police officers +peered eagerly into the case; and suddenly the eager expression on +Badger’s face changed to one of bitter disappointment. + +“You’ve missed fire this time, sir,” he snapped. “This is just a case +of brass bolts.” + +“Gold bolts, Inspector,” Thorndyke corrected, placidly. He picked out +one and handed it to the astonished detective. “Did you ever feel a +brass bolt of that weight?” he asked. + +“Well, it certainly is devilish heavy,” the inspector admitted, +weighing it in his hand and passing it on to Miller. + +“Its weight, as stated on the manifest,” said Thorndyke, “works out at +well over eight and a half ounces, but we may as well check it.” He +produced from his pocket a little spring balance, to which he slung +the bolt. “You see,” he said, “it weighs eight ounces and two-thirds. +But a brass bolt of the same size would weigh only three ounces and +four-fifths. There is not the least doubt that these bolts are gold; +and as you see that their aggregate weight is a hundred and thirteen +while the weight of the four missing bars is a hundred and thirteen +pounds, two ounces, it is a reasonable inference that these bolts +represent those bars; and an uncommonly good job they made of the +melting to lose only two ounces. Has the consignee’s agent turned up +yet?” + +“He is waiting outside,” replied the officer, with a pleased smile, +“hopping about like a pea in a frying-pan. I’ll call him in.” + +He did so, and a small, seedy man of strongly Semitic aspect +approached the door with nervous caution and a rather pale face. But +when his beady eye fell on the open case and the portentous assembly +in the office, he turned about and fled along the wharf as if the +hosts of the Philistines were at his heels. + +“Of course it is all perfectly simple, as you say,” I replied to +Thorndyke as we strolled back up Nightingale Lane, “but I don’t see +where you got your start. What made you think that the stolen case was +a dummy?” + +“At first,” Thorndyke replied, “it was just a matter of alternative +hypotheses. It was purely speculative. The robbery described by +Halethorpe was a very crude affair. It was planned in quite the wrong +way. Noting this, I naturally asked myself: What is the right way to +steal a case of gold ingots? Now, the outstanding difficulty in such a +robbery arises from the ponderous nature of the thing stolen, and the +way to overcome that difficulty is to get away with the booty at +leisure before the robbery is discovered--the longer the better. It is +also obvious that if you can delude some one into stealing your dummy +you will have covered up your tracks most completely; for if that some +one is caught, the issues are extremely confused, and if he is not +caught, all the tracks lead away from you. Of course, he will discover +the fraud when he tries to dispose of the swag, but his lips are +sealed by the fact that he has, himself, committed a felony. So that +is the proper strategical plan; and, though it was wildly improbable, +and there was nothing whatever to suggest it, still the possibility +that this crude robbery might cover a more subtle one, had to be borne +in mind. It was necessary to make absolutely certain that the gold +bars were really in the case when it left Bellhaven. I had practically +no doubt that they were. Our visit to the Custom House was little more +than a formality, just to give us an undeniable datum from which to +make our start. We had to find somebody who had actually seen the case +open and verified the contents; and when we found that man--Mr. +Byrne--it instantly became obvious that the wildly improbable thing +had really happened. The gold bars had already disappeared. I had +calculated the approximate size of the real bars. They would contain +forty-two cubic inches, and would be about seven inches by three by +two. The dimensions given by Byrne--evidently correct, as shown by +those of the case, which the bars fitted pretty closely--were +impossible. If those bars had been gold, they would have weighed two +hundred pounds, instead of the hundred and thirteen pounds shown on +his report. The astonishing thing is that Byrne did not observe the +discrepancy. There are not many Customs officers who would have let it +pass.” + +“Isn’t it rather odd,” I asked, “that the thieves should have gambled +on such a remote chance?” + +“It is pretty certain,” he replied, “that they were unaware of the +risk they were taking. Probably they assumed--as most persons would +have done--that a case of bullion would be merely inspected and +passed. Few persons realize the rigorous methods of the Customs +officers. But to resume: It was obvious that the ‘gold’ bars that +Byrne had examined were dummies. The next question was, where were the +real bars? Had they been made away with, or were they still on the +ship? To settle this question I decided to go through the manifest and +especially through the column of net weights. And there, presently, I +came upon a package the net weight of which was within two ounces of +the weight of the stolen bars. And that package was a parcel of brass +screw-bolts--on a homeward-bound ship! But who on earth sends brass +bolts from Africa to London? The anomaly was so striking that I +examined the entry more closely, and then I found--by dividing the net +weight by the number of bolts--that each of these little bolts weighed +over half a pound. But, if this were so, those bolts could be of no +other metal than gold or platinum, and were almost certainly gold. +Also, their aggregate weight was exactly that of the stolen bars, less +two ounces, which probably represented loss in melting.” + +“And the scrivelloes,” said I, “and the gum copal and the kola nuts; +what was their bearing on the inquiry? I can’t, even now, trace any +connection.” + +Thorndyke cast an astonished glance at me, and then replied with a +quiet chuckle: “There wasn’t any. Those notes were for the benefit of +the shipping gentleman. As he would look over my shoulder, I had to +give him something to read and think about. If I had noted only the +brass bolts, I should have virtually informed him of the nature of my +suspicions.” + +“Then, really, you had the case complete when we left Bellhaven?” + +“Theoretically, yes. But we had to recover the stolen case, for, +without those lead ingots we could not prove that the gold bolts were +stolen property, any more than one could prove a murder without +evidence of the death of the victim.” + +“And how do you suppose the robbery was carried out? How was the gold +got out of the ship’s strong-room?” + +“I should say it was never there. The robbers, I suspect, are the +ship’s mate, the chief engineer and possibly the purser. The mate +controls the stowage of cargo, and the chief engineer controls the +repair shop and has the necessary skill and knowledge to deal with the +metal. On receiving the advice of the bullion consignment, I imagine +they prepared the dummy case in agreement with the description. When +the bullion arrived, the dummy case would be concealed on deck and the +exchange made as soon as the bullion was put on board. The dummy would +be sent to the strong-room and the real case carried to a prepared +hiding-place. Then the engineer would cut up the bars, melt them +piecemeal and cast them into bolts in an ordinary casting-flask, using +an iron bolt as a model, and touching up the screw-threads with a die. +The mate could enter the case on the manifest when he pleased, and +send the bill of lading by post to the nominal consignee. That is what +I imagine to have been the procedure.” + +Thorndyke’s solution turned out to be literally correct. The +consignee, pursued by Inspector Badger along the quay, was arrested at +the dock gates and immediately volunteered King’s evidence. Thereupon +the mate, the chief engineer and the purser of the steamship _Labadi_ +were arrested and brought to trial; when they severally entered a plea +of guilty and described the method of the robbery almost in +Thorndyke’s words. + + + + + VII. + THE FUNERAL PYRE + +Thorndyke did not often indulge in an evening paper, and was even +disposed to view that modern institution with some disfavour; whence +it happened that when I entered our chambers shortly before dinner +time with a copy of the _Evening Gazette_ in my hand, he fixed upon +the folded news-sheet an inquiring and slightly disapproving eye. + +“’Orrible discovery near Dartford,” I announced, quoting the juvenile +vendor. + +The disapproval faded from his face, but the inquiring expression +remained. + +“What is it?” he asked. + +“I don’t know,” I replied; “but it seems to be something in our line.” + +“My learned friend does us an injustice,” he rejoined, with his eye +riveted on the paper. “Still, if you are going to make my flesh creep, +I will try to endure it.” + +Thus invited, I opened the paper and read out as follows: + +“A shocking tragedy has come to light in a meadow about a mile from +Dartford. About two o’clock this morning, a rural constable observed a +rick on fire out on the marshes near the creek. By the time he reached +it the upper half of the rick was burning fiercely in the strong wind +and, as he could do nothing alone, he went to the adjacent farm-house +and gave the alarm. The farmer and two of his sons accompanied the +constable to the scene of the conflagration, but the rick was now a +blazing mass, roaring in the wind and giving out an intense heat. As +it was obviously impossible to save any part of it, and as there were +no other ricks near, the farmer decided to abandon it to its fate and +went home. + +“At eight o’clock he returned to the spot and found the rick still +burning, though reduced to a heap of glowing cinders and ashes, and +approaching it, he was horrified to perceive a human skull grinning +out from the cindery mass. Closer examination showed other bones--all +calcined white and chalky--and close to the skull a stumpy clay pipe. +The explanation of this dreadful occurrence seems quite simple. The +rick was not quite finished, and when the farm hands knocked off work +they left the ladder in position. It is assumed that some tramp, in +search of a night’s lodging, observed the ladder, and climbing up it, +made himself comfortable in the loose hay at the top of the rick, +where he fell asleep with his lighted pipe in his mouth. This ignited +the hay and the man must have been suffocated by the fumes without +awakening from his sleep.” + +“A reasonable explanation,” was Thorndyke’s comment, “and quite +probable; but of course it is pure hypothesis. As a matter of fact, +any one of the three conceivable causes of violent death is possible +in this case--accident, suicide or homicide.” + +“I should have supposed,” said I, “that we could almost exclude +suicide. It is difficult to imagine a man electing to roast himself to +death.” + +“I cannot agree with my learned friend,” Thorndyke rejoined. “I can +imagine a case--and one of great medico-legal interest--that would +exactly fit the present circumstances. Let us suppose a man, +hopelessly insolvent, desperate and disgusted with life, who decides +to provide for his family by investing the few pounds that he has left +in insuring his life heavily and then making away with himself. How +would he proceed? If he should commit suicide by any of the orthodox +methods he would simply invalidate his policy. But now, suppose he +knows of a likely rick; that he provides himself with some +rapidly-acting poison, such as potassium cyanide--he could even use +prussic acid if he carried it in a rubber or celluloid bottle, which +would be consumed in the fire; that he climbs on to the rick; sets +fire to it, and as soon as it is fairly alight, takes his dose of +poison and falls back dead among the hay. Who is to contest his +family’s claim? The fire will have destroyed all traces of the poison, +even if they should be sought for. But it is practically certain that +the question would never be raised. The claim would be paid without +demur.” + +I could not help smiling at this calm exposition of a practicable +crime. “It is a mercy, Thorndyke,” I remarked, “that you are an honest +man. If you were not----” + +“I think,” he retorted, “that I should find some better means of +livelihood than suicide. But with regard to this case: it will be +worth watching. The tramp hypothesis is certainly the most probable; +but its very probability makes an alternative hypothesis at least +possible. No one is likely to suspect fraudulent suicide; but that +immunity from suspicion is a factor that increases the probability of +fraudulent suicide. And so, to a less extent, with homicide. We must +watch the case and see if there are any further developments.” + +Further developments were not very long in appearing. The report in +the morning paper disposed effectually of the tramp theory without +offering any other. “The tragedy of the burning rick,” it said, “is +taking a somewhat mysterious turn. It is now clear that the unknown +man, who was assumed to have been a tramp, must have been a person of +some social position, for careful examination of the ashes by the +police have brought to light various articles which would have been +carried only by a man of fair means. The clay pipe was evidently one +of a pair--of which the second one has been recovered--probably silver +mounted and carried in a case, the steel frame of which has been +found. Both pipes are of the ‘Burns Cutty’ pattern and have neatly +scratched on the bowls the initials ‘R.R.’ The following articles have +also been found:--Remains of a watch, probably gold, and a rather +singular watch-chain, having alternate links of platinum and gold. The +gold links have partly disappeared, but numerous beads of gold have +been found, derived apparently from the watch and chain. The platinum +links are intact and are fashioned of twisted square wire. A bunch of +keys, partly fused; a rock crystal seal, apparently from a ring; a +little porcelain mascot figure, with a hole for suspension--possibly +from the watch-chain--and a number of artificial teeth. In connection +with the latter, a puzzling and slightly sinister aspect has been +given to the case by the finding of an upper dental plate by a ditch +some two hundred yards from the rick. The plate has two gaps and, on +comparison with the skull of the unknown man, these have been found by +the police surgeon to correspond with two groups of remaining teeth. +Moreover, the artificial teeth found in the ashes all seem to belong +to a lower plate. The presence of this plate, so far from the scene of +the man’s death, is extremely difficult to account for.” + +As Thorndyke finished reading the extract he looked at me as if +inviting some comment. + +“It is a most remarkable and mysterious affair,” said I, “and +naturally recalls to my mind the hypothetical case that you suggested +yesterday. If that case was possible then, it is actually probable +now. It fits these new facts perfectly, not only in respect of the +abundant means of identification, but even to this dental plate--if we +assume that he took the poison as he was approaching the rick, and +that the poison was of an acrid or irritating character which caused +him to cough or retch. And I can think of no other plausible +explanation.” + +“There _are_ other possibilities,” said Thorndyke, “but fraudulent +suicide is certainly the most probable theory on the known facts. But +we shall see. As you say, the body can hardly fail to be identified at +a pretty early date.” + +As a matter of fact it was identified in the course of that same day. +Both Thorndyke and I were busily engaged until evening in the courts +and elsewhere and had not had time to give this curious case any +consideration. But as we walked home together, we encountered Mr. +Stalker of the Griffin Life Assurance Company pacing up and down +King’s Bench Walk near the entry of our chambers. + +“Ha!” he exclaimed, striding forward to meet us near the Mitre Court +gateway, “you are just the very men I wanted to see. There is a little +matter that I want to consult you about. I shan’t detain you long.” + +“It won’t matter much if you do,” said Thorndyke. “We have finished +our routine work for the day and our time is now our own.” He led the +way up to our chambers, where, having given the fire a stir, he drew +up three arm-chairs. + +“Now, Stalker,” said he. “Warm your toes and tell us your troubles.” + +Mr. Stalker spread out his hands to the blaze and began reflectively: +“It will be enough, I think, if I give you the facts--and most of them +you probably know already. You have heard about this man whose remains +were found in the ashes of a burnt rick? Well, it turns out that he +was a certain Mr. Reginald Reed, an outside broker, as I understand; +but what is of more interest to us is that he was a client of ours. We +have issued a policy on his life for three thousand pounds. I thought +I remembered the name when I saw it in the paper this afternoon, so I +looked up our books, and there it was, sure enough.” + +“When was the policy issued?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Ah!” exclaimed Stalker. “That’s the exasperating feature of the case. +The policy was issued less than a year ago. He has only paid a single +premium. So we stand to drop practically the whole three thousand. Of +course, we have to take the fat with the lean, but we don’t like to +take it in such precious large lumps.” + +“Of course you don’t,” agreed Thorndyke. “But now: you have come to +consult me--about what?” + +“Well,” replied Stalker, “I put it to you: isn’t there something +obviously fishy about the case? Are the circumstances normal? For +instance, how the devil came a respectable city gentleman to be +smoking his pipe in a haystack out in a lonely meadow at two o’clock +in the morning, or thereabouts?” + +“I agree,” said Thorndyke, “that the circumstances are highly +abnormal. But there is no doubt that the man is dead. Extremely dead, +if I may use the expression. What is the point that you wish to +raise?” + +“I am not raising any point,” replied Stalker. “We should like you to +attend the inquest and watch the case for us. Of course, in our +policies, as you know, suicide is expressly ruled out; and if this +should turn out to have been a case of suicide----” + +“What is there to suggest that it was?” asked Thorndyke. + +“What is there to suggest that it wasn’t?” retorted Stalker. + +“Nothing,” rejoined Thorndyke. “But a negative plea is of no use to +you. You will have to furnish positive proof of suicide, or else pay +the claim.” + +“Yes, I realize that,” said Stalker, “and I am not suggesting--but +there, it is of no use discussing the matter while we know so little. +I leave the case in your hands. Can you attend the inquest?” + +“I shall make it my business to do so,” replied Thorndyke. + +“Very well,” said Stalker, rising and putting on his gloves, “then we +will leave it at that; and we couldn’t leave it in better case.” + +When our visitor had gone I remarked to Thorndyke: “Stalker seems to +have conceived the same idea as my learned senior--fraudulent +suicide.” + +“It is not surprising,” he replied. “Stalker is a shrewd man and he +perceives that when an abnormal thing has happened we may look for an +abnormal explanation. Fraudulent suicide was a speculative possibility +yesterday: to-day, in the light of these new facts, it is the most +probable theory. But mere probabilities won’t help Stalker. If there +is no direct evidence of suicide--and there is not likely to be +any--the verdict will be Death by Misadventure, and the Griffin +Company will have to pay.” + +“I suppose you won’t do anything until you have heard what transpires +at the inquest?” + +“Yes,” he replied. “I think we should do well to go down and just go +over the ground. At present we have the facts at third hand, and we +don’t know what may have been overlooked. As to-morrow is fairly free +I propose that we make an early start and see the place ourselves.” + +“Is there any particular point that you want to clear up?” + +“No; I have nothing definite in view. The circumstances are compatible +with either accident, suicide or homicide, with an undoubted leaning +towards suicide. But, at present, I have a completely open mind. I am, +in fact, going down to Dartford in the hope of getting a lead in some +definite direction.” + + +When we alighted at Dartford Station on the following morning, +Thorndyke looked enquiringly up and down the platform until he espied +an inspector, when he approached the official and asked for a +direction to the site of the burnt rick. + +The official glanced at Thorndyke’s canvas-covered research-case and +at my binocular and camera as he replied with a smile: “You are not +the first, by a long way, that has asked that question. There has been +a regular procession of Press gentlemen that way this morning. The +place is about a mile from here. You take the foot-path to Joyce Green +and turn off towards the creek opposite Temple Farm. This is about +where the rick stood,” he added, as Thorndyke produced his one-inch +ordnance map and a pencil, “a few yards from that dyke.” + +With this direction and the open map we set forth from the station, +and taking our way along the unfrequented path soon left the town +behind. As we crossed the second stile, where the path rejoined the +road, Thorndyke paused to survey the prospect. “Stalker’s question,” +he remarked, “was not unreasonable. This road leads nowhere but to the +river, and one does rather wonder what a city man can have been doing +out on these marshes in the small hours of the morning. I think that +will be our objective, where you see those men at work by the +shepherd’s hut, or whatever it is.” + +We struck off across the level meadows, out of which arose the red +sails of a couple of barges, creeping down the invisible creek; and as +we approached our objective the shepherd’s hut resolved itself into a +contractor’s office van, and the men were seen to be working with +shovels and sieves on the ashes of the rick. A police inspector was +superintending the operations, and when we drew near he accosted us +with a civil inquiry as to our business. + +Thorndyke presented his card and explained that he was watching the +case in the interests of the Griffin Assurance Company. “I suppose,” +he added, “I shall be given the necessary facilities?” + +“Certainly,” replied the officer, glancing at my colleague with an odd +mixture of respect and suspicion; “and if you can spot anything that +we’ve overlooked, you are very welcome. It’s all for the public good. +Is there anything in particular that you want to see?” + +“I should like to see everything that has been recovered so far. The +remains of the body have been removed, I suppose?” + +“Yes, sir. To the mortuary. But I have got all the effects here.” + +He led the way to the office--a wooden hut on low wheels--and +unlocking the door, invited us to enter. “Here are the things that we +have salved,” he said, indicating a table covered with white paper on +which the various articles were neatly set out, “and I think it’s +about the lot. We haven’t come on anything fresh for the last hour or +so.” + +Thorndyke looked over the collection thoughtfully; picked up and +examined successively the two clay pipes--each with the initials +“R.R.” neatly incised on the bowl--the absurd little mascot figure, so +incongruous with its grim surroundings and the tragic circumstances, +the distorted keys, the platinum chain-links to several of which +shapeless blobs of gold adhered, and the crystal seal; and then, +collecting the artificial teeth, arranged them in what appeared to be +their correct order, and compared them with the dental plate. + +“I think,” said he, holding the latter in his fingers, “that as the +body is not here, I should like to secure the means of comparison of +these teeth with the skull. There will be no objection to that, I +presume?” + +“What did you wish to do?” the inspector asked. + +“I should like to take a cast of the plate and a wax impression of the +loose teeth. No damage will be done to the originals, of course.” + +The inspector hesitated, his natural, official tendency to refuse +permission apparently contending with a desire to see with his own +eyes how the famous expert carried out his mysterious methods of +research. In the end the latter prevailed and the official sanction +was given, subject to a proviso. “You won’t mind my looking on while +you do it?” + +“Of course not,” replied Thorndyke. “Why should I?” + +“I thought that perhaps your methods were a sort of trade secret.” + +Thorndyke laughed softly as he opened the research-case. “My dear +Inspector,” said he, “the people who have trade secrets are those who +make a profound mystery of simple processes that any schoolboy could +carry out with once showing. That is the necessity for the secrecy.” + +As he was speaking he half-filled a tiny aluminium saucepan with +water, and having dropped into it a couple of cakes of dentist’s +moulding composition, put it to heat over a spirit-lamp. While it was +heating he greased the dental plate and the loose teeth, and prepared +the little rubber basin and the other appliances for mixing the +plaster. + +The inspector was deeply interested. With almost ravenous attention he +followed these proceedings, and eagerly watched Thorndyke roll the +softened composition into the semblance of a small sausage and press +it firmly on the teeth of the plate; peered into the plaster tin, and +when the liquid plaster was mixed and applied, first to the top and +then to the lower surface of the plate, not only observed the process +closely but put a number of very pertinent questions. + +While the plaster and composition were setting Thorndyke renewed his +inspection of the salvage from the rick, picking out a number of iron +boot protectors which he placed apart in a little heap. + +Then he proceeded to roll out two flat strips of softened composition, +into one of which he pressed the loose teeth in what appeared to be +their proper order, and into the other the boot protectors--eight in +number--after first dusting the surface with powdered French chalk. By +this time the plaster had set hard enough to allow of the mould being +opened and the dental plate taken out. Then Thorndyke, having painted +the surfaces of the plaster pieces with knotting, put the mould +together again and tied it firmly with string, mixed a fresh bowl of +plaster and poured it into the mould. + +While this was setting Thorndyke made a careful inventory, with my +assistance, of the articles found in the ashes and put a few discreet +questions to the inspector. But the latter knew very little about the +case. His duty was merely to examine and report on the rick for the +information of the coroner. The investigation of the case was +evidently being conducted from head-quarters. There being no +information to be gleaned from the officer we went out and inspected +the site of the rick. But here, also, there was nothing to be learned; +the surface of the ground was now laid bare and the men who were +working with the sieves reported no further discoveries. We +accordingly returned to the hut, and as the plaster had now set hard +Thorndyke proceeded with infinite care to open the mould. The +operation was a complete success, and as my colleague extracted the +cast--a perfect replica, in plaster, of the dental plate--the +inspector’s admiration was unbounded. “Why,” he exclaimed, “excepting +for the colour you couldn’t tell one from the other; but all the same, +I don’t quite see what you want it for.” + +“I want it to compare with the skull,” replied Thorndyke, “if I have +time to call at the mortuary. As I can’t take the original plate with +me, I shall need this copy to make the comparison. Obviously, it is +most important to make sure that this is Reed’s plate and not that of +some other person. By the way, can you show us the spot where the +plate was picked up?” + +“Yes,” replied the inspector. “You can see the place from here. It was +just by that gate at the crossing of the ditch.” + +“Thank you, Inspector,” said Thorndyke. “I think we will walk down and +have a look at the place.” He wrapped the new cast in a soft cloth, +and having repacked his research case, shook hands with the officer +and prepared to depart. + +“You will notice, Jervis,” he remarked as we walked towards the gate, +“that this denture was picked up at a spot beyond the rick--farther +from the town, I mean. Consequently, if the plate is Reed’s, he must +have dropped it while he was approaching the rick from the direction +of the river. It will be worth while to see if we can find out whence +he came.” + +“Yes,” I agreed. “But the dropping of the plate is a rather mysterious +affair. It must have happened when he took the poison--assuming that +he really did poison himself; but one would have expected that he +would wait until he got to the rick to take his dose.” + +“We had better not make too many assumptions while we have so few +facts,” said Thorndyke. He put down his case beside the gate, which +guarded a bridge across a broad ditch, or drainage dyke, and opened +his map. + +“The question is,” said he, “did he come through this gate or was he +only passing it. This dyke, you see, opens into the creek about +three-quarters of a mile farther down. The probability is, therefore, +that if he came up from the river across the marshes he would be on +this side of the ditch and would pass the gate. But we had better try +both sides. Let us leave our things by the gate and explore the ground +for a few hundred yards, one on either side of the ditch. Which side +will you take?” + +I elected to take the side nearer the creek and, having put my camera +down by the research case, climbed over the padlocked gate and began +to walk slowly along by the side of the ditch, scanning the ground for +footprints showing the impression of boot-protectors. At first the +surface was far from favourable for imprints of any kind, being, like +that immediately around the gate, covered with thick turf. About a +hundred and fifty yards down, however, I came upon a heap of +worm-casts on which was plainly visible the print of a heel with a +clear impression of a kidney-shaped protector such as I had seen in +the hut. Thereupon I hailed Thorndyke and, having stuck my stick in +the ground beside the heel-print, went back to meet him at the gate. + +“This is rather interesting, Jervis,” he remarked, when I had +described my find. “The inference seems to be that he came from the +creek--unless there is another gate farther down. We had better have +our compo impressions handy for comparison.” He opened his case and +taking from it the strip of composition--now as hard as bone--on which +were the impressions of the boot-protectors, slipped it into his outer +pocket. We then took up the case and the camera and proceeded to the +spot marked by my stick. + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “it is not very conclusive, seeing that so +many people use boot-protectors, but it is probably Reed’s footprint. +Let us hope that we shall find something more distinctive farther on.” + +We resumed our march, keeping a few yards apart and examining the +ground closely as we went. For a full quarter of a mile we went on +without detecting any trace of a footprint on the thick turf. Suddenly +we perceived ahead of us a stretch of yellow mud occupying a slight +hollow, across which the creek had apparently overflowed at the last +spring tide. When we reached it we found that the mud was nearly dry, +but still soft enough to take an impression; and the surface was +covered with a maze of footprints. + +We halted at the edge of the patch and surveyed the complicated +pattern; and then it became evident that the whole group of prints had +been produced by two pairs of feet, with the addition of a row of +sheep-tracks. + +“This seems to raise an entirely new issue,” I remarked. + +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed. “I think we now begin to see a definite +light on the case. But we must go cautiously. Here are two sets of +footprints, of which one is apparently Reed’s--to judge by the +boot-protectors--while the other prints have been made by a man, whom +we will call X, who wore boots or shoes with rubber soles and heels. +We had better begin by verifying Reed’s.” He produced the composition +strip from his pocket, and, stooping over one pair of footprints, +continued: “I think we may assume that these are Reed’s feet. We have +on the compo strip impressions of eight protectors from the rick, and +on each footprint there are four protectors. Moreover, the individual +protectors are the same on the compo and on the footprints. Thus the +compo shows two pairs of half-protectors, two single edge-pieces, and +two kidney-shaped protectors; while each footprint shows a pair of +half-protectors on the outside of the sole, a single one on the inside +and a kidney-shaped piece on the heel. Furthermore, in both cases the +protectors are nearly new and show no appreciable signs of wear. The +agreement is complete.” + +“Don’t you think,” said I, “that we ought to take plaster records of +them?” + +“I do,” he replied, “seeing that a heavy shower or a high tide would +obliterate them. If you will make the casts I will, meanwhile, make a +careful drawing of the whole group to show the order of imposition.” + +We fell to work forthwith upon our respective tasks, and by the time I +had filled four of the clearest of the footprints with plaster, +Thorndyke had completed his drawing with the aid of a set of coloured +pencils from the research case. While the plaster was setting he +exhibited and explained the drawing. + +“You see, Jervis, that there are four lines of prints and a set of +sheep-tracks. The first in order of time are these prints of X, drawn +in blue. Then come the sheep, which trod on X’s footprints. Next comes +Reed, alone and after some interval, for he has trodden both on the +sheep-tracks and on the tracks of X. Both men were going towards the +river. Then we have the tracks of the two men coming back. This time +they were together, for their tracks are parallel and neither treads +into the prints of the other. Both tracks are rather sinuous as if the +men were walking unsteadily, and both have trodden on the sheep-tracks +and on the preceding tracks. Next, we have the tracks of X going alone +towards the river and treading on all the others excepting number +four, which are the tracks of X coming from the river and turning off +towards that gate, which opens on to the road. The sequence of events +is therefore pretty clear. + +“First, X came along here alone to some destination which we have yet +to discover. Later--how much later we cannot judge--came Reed, alone. +The two men seem to have met, and later returned together, apparently +the worse for drink. That is the last we see of Reed. Next comes X, +walking back--quite steadily, you notice--towards the river. Later, he +returns; but this time, for some reason--perhaps to avoid the +neighbourhood of the rick--he crosses the ditch at that gate, +apparently to get on the road, though you see by the map that the road +is much the longer route to the town. And now we had better get on and +see if we can discover the rendezvous to and from which these two men +went and came.” + +As the plaster had now set quite hard I picked up the casts, and when +I had carefully packed them in the case we resumed our progress +riverwards. I had already noticed, some distance ahead, the mast of +what looked like a small cutter yacht standing up above the marshes, +and I now drew Thorndyke’s attention to it. But he had already +observed it and, like me, had marked it as the probable rendezvous of +the two men. In a few minutes the probability became a certainty, for +a bend in the creek showed us the little vessel--with the name +_Moonbeam_ newly painted on the bow--made fast alongside a small +wooden staging; and when we reached this the bare earth opposite the +gangway was seen to be covered with the footprints of both men. + +“I wonder,” said I, “which of them was the owner of the yacht.” + +“It is pretty obvious, I think,” said Thorndyke, “that X was the owner +if either of them was. He came to the yacht alone, and he wore +rubber-soled shoes such as yachtsmen favour; whereas Reed came when +the other man was there, and he wore iron boot-protectors, which no +yacht owner would do if he had any respect for his deck-planks. But +they may have had a joint interest; appearances suggest that they were +painting the woodwork when they were here together, as some of the +paint is fresh and some of it old and shabby.” He gazed at the yacht +reflectively for some time and then remarked: “It would be +interesting--and perhaps instructive--to have a look at the inside.” + +“It would be a flagrant trespass, to put it mildly,” said I. + +“It would be more than trespass if that padlock is locked,” he +rejoined. “But we need not take a pedantic view of the legal position. +My learned friend has a serviceable pair of glasses and commands an +unobstructed view of a mile or so; and if he maintains an observant +attitude while I make an inspection of the premises any trifling +irregularity will be of no consequence.” As he spoke he felt in his +pocket and produced an instrument which our laboratory assistant, +Polton, had made from a few pieces of stiff steel wire, and which was +euphemistically known as a smoker’s companion. With this appliance in +his hand he dropped down on to the yacht’s deck, and after a quick +look round, tried the padlock. Finding it locked he proceeded to +operate on it with the smoker’s companion, and in a few moments it +fell open, when he pushed back the sliding hatch and stepped down into +the little cabin. + +His exploration did not take long. In a few minutes he reappeared and +climbed the short ladder to the staging. “There isn’t much to see,” he +reported, “but what there is is highly suggestive. If you slip down +and have a look round, I think you will have no difficulty in forming +a plausible reconstruction of the recent events. You had better take +the camera. There is light enough for a time exposure.” + +I handed him the glasses, and dropping on to the deck, stepped down +through the open hatch into the cabin. It was an absurd little cave, +barely four feet high from the floor to the coach-roof, open to the +forepeak and lighted by a little skylight and two port-holes. Of the +two sleeping berths, one had evidently been used as a seat, while the +other appeared to have been slept in, to judge by the indented pillow +and the tumbled blankets, left just as the occupant had crawled out of +them. But the whole interior was in a state of squalid disorder. +Paint-pots and unwashed brushes lay about the floor, in company with a +couple of whisky-bottles--one empty and one half-full--two tumblers, a +pair of empty siphons and a litter of playing cards scattered +broadcast and evidently derived from two packs. It was, as Thorndyke +had said, easy to reconstruct the scene of sordid debauchery that the +light of the two candles--each in its congealed pool of grease--must +have displayed on that night of horror whose dreadful secret had been +disclosed by the ashes of the rick. But I could see nothing that would +enable me to give a name to the dead man’s mysterious companion. + +When I had completed my inspection and taken a photograph of the +interior, I rejoined Thorndyke, who then descended and replaced the +padlock on the closed hatch, relocking it with the invaluable smoker’s +companion. + +“Well, Jervis,” said he, as we turned our faces towards the town, “it +seems as if we had accomplished our task, so far as Stalker is +concerned. It is still possible that this was a case of suicide, but +it is no longer probable. All the appearances point to homicide. I +think my learned friend will agree with me in that.” + +“Undoubtedly,” I replied. “And to me there is a strong suggestion of +premeditation. I take it that X, the owner of the yacht, enticed Reed +out here, possibly to prepare for a cruise; that the two men worked at +the repainting while the daylight lasted and then spent the evening +drinking and gambling. The fact that they used two packs of cards +suggests that they played for pretty heavy stakes. Then, I think, Reed +became drunk and X offered to see him safely off the marshes. It is +evident that X was not drunk, because, although both tracks appear +unsteady when the men were walking together, the tracks of X, +returning to the yacht are quite steady and straight. I should say +that the actual murder took place just after they had got over the +gate; that Reed’s false teeth fell out while his body was being +dragged to the rick, and that this was unnoticed by X owing to the +darkness. Then X dragged the body up the ladder and laid it in the +middle of the rick at the top, set fire to the rick--probably on the +lee side--and at once made off back to the yacht. There he passed the +night, and in the morning he returned to the town along the road, +giving the neighbourhood of the rick a wide berth. That is my reading +of the evidence.” + +“Yes,” said Thorndyke, “that seems to be the interpretation of the +facts. And now all that remains is to give a name to the mysterious X, +and I should think that will present no difficulties.” + +“Are you proposing to inspect the remains at the mortuary?” I asked. + +“No,” he replied. “It would be interesting, but it is not necessary. +We have all the available data for identification, and our concern is +now not with Reed but with X. We had better get back to London.” + +On our arrival at the station, we found the book-stall keeper in the +act of sticking up a placard of the evening paper on which was the +legend: + +“_Rick tragedy; Sensational development._” + +We immediately provided ourselves each with a copy of the paper, and +sitting down on a seat, proceeded to read the heavily-leaded report. + +“A new and startling aspect has been given to the rick tragedy by some +further inquiries that the police have made. It seems that the dead +man, Reed, was a member of the firm of Reed and Jarman, outside +brokers, and it now transpires that his partner, Walter Jarman, is +also missing. There has been no one at the office this week, but the +caretaker states that on Monday evening at about eight o’clock, he saw +Mr. Jarman let himself into the office with his key (the rick was +first seen to be on fire at two o’clock on Monday morning). It appears +that three cheques, payable to the firm and endorsed by Jarman, were +paid into the bank--Patmore’s--by the first post on Tuesday morning, +and that, also on Tuesday morning, Jarman purchased a parcel of +diamonds of just over a thousand pounds in value from a diamond +merchant in Hatton Garden, who accepted a cheque in payment after +telephoning to the bank. It further appears that on the previous +Saturday morning, Reed and Jarman visited the bank together and drew +out in cash practically their whole balance, leaving only thirty-two +pounds. The diamond merchant’s cheque was met by the cheques that had +just been paid in. It is premature to make any comments, but we may +expect some strange disclosures at the inquest, which will be held at +Dartford the day after to-morrow.” + +“I assume,” said I, “that the identity of X is no longer a mystery. It +looks as if these two men had agreed to realize their assets and +abscond, and had then spent the night gambling for the swag, and oddly +enough, Reed appears to have been the winner, for otherwise there +would have been no need to murder him.” + +“That is so,” Thorndyke agreed, “assuming that X is Jarman, which is +probable, though not certain. But we mustn’t go beyond our facts, and +we mustn’t construct theories from newspaper reports. I think we had +better call at Scotland Yard on our way home and verify those +particulars.” + +The report and our own observations occupied us during the journey to +London, though our discussion produced no further conclusions. As soon +as we arrived at Charing Cross, Thorndyke sprang out of the train, and +emerging from the station, walked swiftly towards Whitehall. + +Our visit was fortunately timed, for as we approached the entrance to +the headquarters, our old friend, Superintendent Miller, came out. He +smiled as he saw us and halted to utter the laconic query: “Rick +Case?” + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “We have come to verify the particulars +given in the evening paper. Have you seen the report?” + +“Yes; and you may take it as correct. Anything else?” + +“I should have liked to look over a series of the cheques drawn by the +firm. The last two, I suppose, are inaccessible?” + +“Yes. They will be at the bank, and we couldn’t inspect them without +an order of the Court. But, as to the others, if they are at the +office, I think you could see them. I’ll come along with you now if +you like, and have a look round myself. Our people are in possession.” + +We at once closed with the superintendent’s offer and proceeded with +him by the Underground Railway to the Mansion House, from whence we +made our way to Queen Victoria Street, where Reed and Jarman had their +offices. A sergeant was in charge at the moment, and to him the +superintendent addressed himself. + +“Have you found any returned cheques?” + +“Yes, sir,” replied the sergeant; “lots of ’em. We’ve been through +them all.” + +As he spoke he produced several bundles of cheques and laid them on a +desk, the drawers of which all stood open. + +“Well,” said Miller, “there they are, Doctor. I don’t know what you +want to find out, but I expect you do.” He placed a chair by the desk, +and as Thorndyke sat down and proceeded to turn the cheques over, he +watched him with politely-suppressed curiosity. + +“It appears,” said Thorndyke, “as if these two men had mixed up their +private affairs with the business account. Here, for instance, is a +cheque drawn by Reed for the Picardy Wine Company. But that company +could hardly have been a client. And this one of Jarman’s for the +Secretary of the St. John’s Nursing Home must be a private cheque, and +so I should say are these two for F. Waller, Esq., F.R.C.S., and for +Andrew Darton, Esq., L.D.S. They are drawn for professional men and +both are--like the Nursing Home cheque--stated in even amounts of +guineas, whereas the business cheques are in uneven amounts of pounds, +shillings and pence.” + +“I think you are right, sir,” said Miller. “The business seems to have +been conducted in a very casual manner. And just look at those +signatures! Never twice alike. The banks hate that sort of thing, +naturally. When a customer signs in the signature book he has given a +specimen for reference and he ought to keep to it strictly. A man who +varies his signature is asking for trouble.” + +“He is,” Thorndyke agreed, as he rapidly entered a few particulars of +the cheques in his note-book; “particularly in the case of a firm with +a staff of clerks.” + +He stood up, and having pocketed his notebook, held out his hand. + +“I am very much obliged to you, Superintendent,” he said. + +“Seen all that you wanted to see?” Miller asked. + +“Thank you, yes,” Thorndyke replied. + +“I should very much like to know what you _have_ seen,” Miller +rejoined; to which my colleague replied by waving his hand towards the +cheques, as he turned to go. + +“I don’t quite see the bearing of those cheques on our inquiry,” I +said, as we took our way homeward along Cheapside. + +“It is not very direct,” Thorndyke replied; “but the cheques help us +to understand the characters of these two men and their relations with +one another; which may be very necessary when we come to the inquest.” + +During the following day I saw very little of Thorndyke, for our +excursion to Dartford had put our work somewhat in arrear and we had +to secure a free day for the inquest on the morrow. We met at dinner +after the day’s work, but, beyond settling the programme for the next +day, nothing of importance passed with reference to the “Rick Case.” + + +The opening phases of the inquest, though of thrilling interest to the +numerous spectators and Press men, did not particularly concern us. +The evidence of the rural constable, the farmer and the police +inspector--with whom Thorndyke had a little confidential talk and +apparently surprised the officer considerably--merely amplified what +we knew already. Of more interest was that of a local dentist who +testified to having examined the dental plate and to having compared +it with the skull of the dead man. “The plate and the jaw of +deceased,” he said, “agree completely. The jaw contains five natural +teeth in two groups, and the plate has two spaces which exactly +correspond to those two groups of teeth. I have tried the plate on the +jaw and have no doubt whatever that it belonged to deceased.” + +“That is a very important fact,” Thorndyke remarked to me as the +witness retired. “It is the indispensable link in the chain.” + +“But surely it was obvious?” said I. + +“No doubt,” he replied. “But now it is proved and in evidence.” + +I was somewhat puzzled by Thorndyke’s remark, but the appearance of a +new witness forbade discussion. Mr. Arthur Gerrard was an +alert-looking, rather tall man, with bushy, Mephistophelian eyebrows +and a small, dark moustache, who wore a pair of large bifocal +spectacles, and to whom a small mole at the corner of the mouth +imparted the effect of a permanent one-sided smile. + +“It was on your information,” said the coroner, “that the identity of +the deceased was established.” + +“Yes,” replied the witness, who spoke with a slight, but perceptible, +Irish accent. “I saw the description in the papers of the things that +had been found in the rick and at once recognized them as Reed’s. I +knew deceased intimately and had often noticed his peculiar +watch-chain and the little china mascot and seen him smoking the clay +pipe with his initials scratched on it; and I knew that he wore false +teeth.” + +“Did you meet him frequently?” + +“Oh, yes. For more than a year he was my partner in business, and we +remained friends after I had dissolved the partnership.” + +“Why did you dissolve the partnership?” + +“I had to. Reed was impossible in a business sense. He gambled +incessantly in stocks and I had to pay his losses. I lent him, for +this purpose, at one time and another, over two thousand pounds. He +gave me bills for the loans, but he was never able to meet them, and +in the end, when we dissolved, I got him to insure his life for three +thousand pounds and to draw up a document making his debt to me the +first charge on his estate in the event of his death.” + +“Had you ever any reason to suppose that he contemplated suicide?” + +“None whatever. After he left me, he entered into partnership with a +Mr. Walter Jarman, and whenever I met him, he seemed to be quite happy +and contented, though I gathered that he was still gambling a good +deal. I saw him a week ago to-day and he then told me that he proposed +to take a short yachting holiday with his partner, who owned a small +cutter. That was the last time that I saw him alive.” + +As the witness was about to retire, Thorndyke rose, and having +obtained the coroner’s permission to cross-examine, asked: + +“You have spoken of a yacht. Do you know what her name is and where +she has been kept lately?” + +“Her name is the _Moonbeam_, and I believe Jarman kept her somewhere +in the Thames, but I don’t know where.” + +“And as to Jarman himself: what do you know about him, as to his +character, for instance?” + +“I knew him very slightly. He appeared to be rather a dissipated man. +Drank a good deal, I should say, and I think he was a bit of a +gambler.” + +“Do you know if he was a heavy smoker?” + +“He didn’t smoke at all, but he was an inveterate snuff-taker.” + +At this point the foreman of the jury interposed with the audible +remark that “he didn’t see what this had to do with the inquiry,” and +the coroner looked dubiously at Thorndyke; but as my colleague sat +down, the objection was not pursued. + +The next witness was the caretaker of the building in which Reed and +Jarman’s office was situated. His evidence was to the effect that on +the previous Monday evening at about eight o’clock, he saw Mr. Jarman +let himself into the office with his key. “I don’t know how long he +stayed there,” he continued, in reply to the coroner’s question. “I +had finished my work and was going up to my rooms at the top of the +building. I didn’t see him again.” + +“Did you notice anything unusual in his appearance?” asked Thorndyke, +rising to cross-examine. “Was his face at all flushed, for instance?” + +“I couldn’t say. I was going up the stairs and I just looked back over +my shoulder when I heard him. His face was turned away from me.” + +“But you had no difficulty in recognizing him?” + +“No: I should have known him a mile off. He had his overcoat on, and +it is a very peculiar overcoat--light brown with a sort of greenish +check. You couldn’t possibly mistake it.” + +“What should you say was Mr. Jarman’s height?” + +“About five feet nine or ten, I should say.” + +Here the foreman of the jury again interposed. “Aren’t we wasting +time, sir?” he inquired impatiently. “These details about Jarman may +be very important to the police, but they don’t concern us. We are +inquiring into the death of Mr. Reginald Reed.” + +The coroner looked deprecatingly at Thorndyke and remarked: “There is +some truth in what the foreman says.” + +“I submit, sir,” replied Thorndyke, “that there is no truth in it at +all. We are not inquiring into the death of Reginald Reed, but into +that of a man whose remains were found in a burned rick.” + +“But the body has been identified as that of Reginald Reed.” + +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “I submit that it has been wrongly identified. +I suggest that the body is that of Walter Jarman and I am prepared to +produce witnesses who will prove that it is.” + +“But,” exclaimed the coroner, “we have just heard the evidence of a +witness who states that he saw Jarman alive eighteen hours after the +rick was fired.” + +“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Thorndyke. “We have heard the witness +say that he saw Jarman’s overcoat. He expressly stated that he did not +see the man’s face.” + +The coroner hastily conferred with the jury--who openly scoffed at +Thorndyke’s suggestion--and then said: “I find what you say perfectly +incredible and so do the jury. It is utterly irreconcilable with the +facts. You had better call your witnesses and let us dispose of this +extraordinary suggestion.” + +Thorndyke bowed to the coroner and called Mr. Andrew Darton; whereupon +a middle-aged man of markedly professional aspect came forward and, +having been sworn, gave evidence as follows: + +“I am a dental surgeon. A little over two years ago, Mr. Walter Jarman +was under my care. I extracted some loose teeth from both jaws and +made him two plates--an upper and a lower.” + +“Could you identify those plates?” + +“Yes. I have with me the plaster model on which those plates were +made.” He opened a bag and produced a plaster cast of a pair of jaws +fitted with a brass hinge so that the jaws could be opened and shut. +On the upper jaw were two groups of teeth separated by a space of bare +gums, while the lower jaw bore a single group of four front teeth. + +“This model,” the witness explained, “is an exact replica of the +patient’s jaws, and the two plates were actually moulded on it.” He +picked up the dental plate from the table, and amidst a hush of +breathless expectancy, opened the mouth of the model and applied the +plate to the upper jaw. At a glance, it was obvious that it fitted +perfectly. The two groups of the plaster teeth slipped exactly into +the spaces on the plate, making a complete row of teeth. Then the +witness covered the lower gums with strips of plastic wax and taking +the loose teeth from the table, attached them to the wax; and again +the correspondence was evident. The teeth thus applied exactly filled +the vacant spaces. + +“Can you now identify that plate?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Yes,” was the reply. “I am quite certain that this is the plate I +made for Mr. Jarman and that those loose teeth are from his lower +plate.” + +Thorndyke looked at the coroner, who nodded emphatically. “This +evidence seems perfectly conclusive,” he admitted. “What do you say, +gentlemen?” he added, turning to the jury. + +There was no doubt as to their sentiments. With one voice they +declared their complete conviction. Had they not seen the +demonstration with their own eyes? + +“And now, sir,” said the coroner, “as you appear to know more than any +one else about this case, and as it is perfectly incomprehensible to +me, and probably also to the jury, I suggest that you give us an +explanation. And you had better make it a sworn statement, so that it +can go into the depositions.” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, “especially as I have some evidence to give.” +He was accordingly sworn and then proceeded to make the following +statement: + +“The first thing that struck me on reading the report of this case, +was the very remarkable character of the objects found in the ashes of +the rick. They included objects composed of platinum, of pipe-clay, of +iron and of porcelain--all substances practically indestructible by +fire. And these imperishable objects were all highly distinctive and +easily identifiable, and two of them actually bore the initials of +their owner. There was almost a suggestion of the body having been +prepared for identification after burning. This mere suggestion, +however, gave place to definite suspicion when I saw the dental plate. +That plate presented a most striking discrepancy. Here it is, sir, and +you see that it is a clean polished plate of red vulcanite, with not a +trace of stain or discoloration. But associated with that plate were +two clay pipes. Now the man who smokes a clay pipe is not only--as a +rule--a heavy smoker, but he smokes strong and dark-coloured tobacco. +And if he wears a dental plate, that plate becomes encrusted with a +black deposit which is very difficult to remove. There is, as you see, +no trace of any such deposit or of any tobacco stain in the +interstices of the teeth. It appeared to be almost certainly the plate +of a non-smoker. But if that were so, it could not be Reed’s. But it +had been ascertained by the police surgeon that it fitted the jaw of +the skull and undoubtedly belonged to the burned body. Consequently if +the plate was not Reed’s plate, the skull was not Reed’s skull, and +the body was not Reed’s body. But the watch-chain was Reed’s, the +pipes were his and the mascot was his. That is to say that the very +identifiable and fireproof property of Reed was associated with the +burned body of some other person; that, in other words, the body of +some unknown person had been deliberately prepared to counterfeit the +body of Reed. This offered a further suggestion and raised a question. +The suggestion was that the unknown person had been +murdered--presumably somewhere near the spot where the dental plate +was found. The question was--What was the object of causing the body +to counterfeit that of Reed? + +“Now, I knew, from the assurance company, that Reed had insured his +life for three thousand pounds. Therefore, somebody stood to gain +three thousand pounds by his death. The question was--Who was that +somebody? I proceeded to make certain investigations on the spot;” and +here Thorndyke gave a summary of our discoveries on the marsh and on +the yacht. “It thus appeared,” he continued, “that there were two men +on the marshes that night, going towards the rick. One of them was the +person whose body was found in the ashes; the other, who went back +alone to the yacht, was presumably the person who stood to gain three +thousand pounds by Reed’s death.” + +“Have you formed any opinion as to who that person was?” the coroner +asked. + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “I have very little doubt that he was +Reginald Reed.” + +“But,” exclaimed the coroner, “we have heard in evidence that it was +Mr. Arthur Gerrard who stood to gain the three thousand pounds!” + +“Precisely,” said Thorndyke; and for awhile he and the coroner looked +at one another without speaking. + +Suddenly the latter cast a searching look around the court. “Where +_is_ Mr. Gerrard?” he demanded. + +“He left the court about ten minutes ago,” said Thorndyke; “and the +police inspector left immediately afterwards. I had advised him not to +lose sight of Mr. Gerrard.” + +“Then I take it that you suspect Gerrard of being in collusion with +Reed?” + +“I suspect that Arthur Gerrard and Reginald Reed are one and the same +person.” + +As Thorndyke made this statement, a murmur of astonishment arose from +the jurymen and the spectators. The coroner, after a few moments’ +puzzled reflection, remarked: “You are not forgetting that Reed’s +caretaker was present while Gerrard was giving his evidence?” Then, +turning to the caretaker, he asked: “What do you say? Was that Mr. +Reed who gave evidence under the name of Gerrard?” + +The caretaker, who had evidently been thinking furiously, was by no +means confident. “I should say not,” he replied, “unless he was made +up a good deal. He was certainly about the same height and build and +colour; but he had a moustache, whereas Mr. Reed was clean-shaved; he +had a mole on his face, which Mr. Reed hadn’t; he had bushy eyebrows, +whereas Mr. Reed had hardly any eyebrows to speak of; and he wore +spectacles, which Mr. Reed didn’t, and he spoke like an Irishman, +whereas Mr. Reed was English. Still it is possible----” + +Before he could finish, the door rattled to a heavy concussion. Then +it flew open, and Mr. Gerrard staggered into the room, thrust forward +by the police inspector. His appearance was marvellously changed, for +he had lost his spectacles, and one of his eyebrows had disappeared, +as had also the mole and a portion of the built-up moustache. The +caretaker started up with an exclamation, but at this moment Gerrard, +with a violent effort, wrenched himself free. The inspector sprang +forward to recapture him. But he was too late. The prisoner’s hand +flew upwards; there was a ringing report; and Arthur Gerrard--or +Reginald Reed--fell back across a bench with a trickle of blood on his +temple and a pistol still clutched in his hand. + +“And so,” said Stalker, when he called on us the next day for details, +“it was a suicide after all. Very lucky, too, seeing that there was no +provision in the policy for death by judicial hanging.” + + THE END + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + +This book was published as _Dr. Thorndyke’s Case-Book_ in the UK. + +Minor spelling inconsistencies (_e.g._ footpath/foot-path, finger +prints/finger-prints, etc.) have been preserved. + +Alterations to the text: + +Abandon the use of drop-caps. + +Adjust some quotation mark pairings/nestings. + +Capitalize several instances of _doctor_ and _superintendent_ when +used in direct addresses. + +[Chapter I] + +Change “That may have been lapis _luzuli_, but more probably” to +_lazuli_. + +“_As_ any rate, it is an heirloom, and I am loath to lose it” to _At_. + +(“Here is the Blowgraves’ place,” said Thorndyke. “nearly in the…”) +change the period to a comma. + +[Chapter II] + +(“I think so, excepting that I _learn_ from Foxton that…”) to +_learned_. + +[Chapter III] + +“we reached a rather dark first-_door_ landing where” to _floor_. + +“Now what West Central place names end in ‘n.’ It was not a street…” +change the period to a question mark. + +[Chapter V] + +(“who would successfully _practise_ the scientific detection…”) to +_practice_. + +“a small telescopic jemmy, a jointed _augur_, a screwdriver and…” to +_auger_. + +(“He must be pretty tough. Shall we be able to see him.”) change the +second period to a question mark. + +“He continued to advance at _any_ easy pace, and I noticed that” to +_an_. + +[Chapter VI] + +“And there’s something queer _agoing_ on aboard of her” to _a-going_. + +(“This’ll do your trick, _master_. Here comes a Customs cruiser.”) to +_mister_. + +[Chapter VII] + +“Who is to contest his family’s claim.” change the period to a +question mark. + +[End of text] + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76116 *** diff --git a/76116-h/76116-h.htm b/76116-h/76116-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d1cb77 --- /dev/null +++ b/76116-h/76116-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10818 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The blue scarab | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +/* Headers and Divisions */ + h1, h2, h3, h4 {margin:4em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} + +/* General */ + + body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} + + .nobreak {page-break-before:avoid;} + + p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:1em;} + .center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + .noindent {text-indent:0em;} + .spacer {margin:0.5em 0em 0.5em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + + hr {margin:1em auto 1em auto; text-align:center; width:20%;} + + .toc_l {font-variant:small-caps; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + .rt1 {margin:0em 1em 0em 0em; text-align:right; text-indent:0em;} + + .chap_sub {font-size:80%;} + .font80 {font-size:80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + + figure {margin:1em auto 1em auto; text-align:center;} + figcaption {font-size:80%; margin:1em 2em 1em 2em;} + +/* special formatting */ + + .stanza {margin:1em 0em 0em 0em; text-indent:0em;} + .i0 {display:inline-block; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + blockquote {margin:1em 2em 1em 2em;} + + .mt1 {margin-top:1em;} + .mt2 {margin-top:2em;} + .mt6 {margin-top:6em;} + + + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76116 ***</div> + +<h1> +THE BLUE<br> +SCARAB +</h1> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="font80">BY</span><br> +R. AUSTIN FREEMAN<br> +<span class="font80">AUTHOR OF<br> +“THE SINGING BONE,” ETC.</span> +</p> + +<p class="center mt6"> +<span class="font80">NEW YORK</span><br> +DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY<br> +1924 +</p> + + +<h2> +[COPYRIGHT] +</h2> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="sc">Copyright, 1923,<br> +By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc.</span> +</p> + +<p class="center mt2"> +Published, January, 1924<br> +Second Printing, January, 1924 +</p> + + +<h2> +CONTENTS +</h2> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch01">I. The Blue Scarab</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch02">II. The Case of the White Foot-Prints</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch03">III. The New Jersey Sphinx</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch04">IV. The Touchstone</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch05">V. A Fisher of Men</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch06">VI. The Stolen Ingots</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch07">VII. The Funeral Pyre</a> +</p> + + +<h2> +THE BLUE SCARAB +</h2> + +<h3 class="nobreak" id="ch01"> +I.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE BLUE SCARAB</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Medico-legal</span> practice is largely concerned with crimes against the +person, the details of which are often sordid, gruesome and +unpleasant. Hence the curious and romantic case of the Blue Scarab +(though really outside our specialty) came as somewhat of a relief. +But to me it is of interest principally as illustrating two of those +remarkable gifts which made my friend, Thorndyke, unique as an +investigator: his uncanny power of picking out the one essential fact +at a glance, and his capacity to produce, when required, inexhaustible +stores of unexpected knowledge of the most out-of-the-way subjects. +</p> + +<p> +It was late in the afternoon when Mr. James Blowgrave arrived, by +appointment, at our chambers, accompanied by his daughter, a rather +strikingly pretty girl of about twenty-two; and when we had mutually +introduced ourselves, the consultation began without preamble. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t give any details in my letter to you,” said Mr. Blowgrave. +“I thought it better not to, for fear you might decline the case. It +is really a matter of a robbery, but not quite an ordinary robbery. +There are some unusual and rather mysterious features in the case. And +as the police hold out very little hope, I have come to ask if you +will give me your opinion on the case and perhaps look into it for me. +But first I had better tell you how the affair happened. +</p> + +<p> +“The robbery occurred just a fortnight ago, about half-past nine +o’clock in the evening. I was sitting in my study with my daughter, +looking over some things that I had taken from a small deed-box, when +a servant rushed in to tell us that one of the outbuildings was on +fire. Now my study opens by a French window on the garden at the back, +and, as the outbuilding was in a meadow at the side of the garden, I +went out that way, leaving the French window open; but before going I +hastily put the things back in the deed-box and locked it. +</p> + +<p> +“The building—which I used partly as a lumber store and partly as a +workshop—was well alight and the whole household was already on the +spot, the boy working the pump and the two maids carrying the buckets +and throwing water on the fire. My daughter and I joined the party and +helped to carry the buckets and take out what goods we could reach +from the burning building. But it was nearly half an hour before we +got the fire completely extinguished, and then my daughter and I went +to our rooms to wash and tidy ourselves up. We returned to the study +together, and when I had shut the French window my daughter proposed +that we should resume our interrupted occupation. Thereupon I took out +of my pocket the key of the deed-box and turned to the cabinet on +which the box always stood. +</p> + +<p> +“But there was no deed-box there! +</p> + +<p> +“For a moment I thought I must have moved it, and cast my eyes round +the room in search of it. But it was nowhere to be seen, and a +moment’s reflection reminded me that I had left it in its usual place. +The only possible conclusion was that during our absence at the fire, +somebody must have come in by the window and taken it. And it looked +as if that somebody had deliberately set fire to the outbuilding for +the express purpose of luring us all out of the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what the appearances suggest,” Thorndyke agreed. “Is the +study window furnished with a blind or curtains?” +</p> + +<p> +“Curtains,” replied Mr. Blowgrave. “But they were not drawn. Any one +in the garden could have seen into the room; and the garden is easily +accessible to an active person who could climb over a low wall.” +</p> + +<p> +“So far, then,” said Thorndyke, “the robbery might be the work of a +casual prowler who had got into the garden and watched you through the +window, and assuming that the things you had taken from the box were +of value, seized an easy opportunity to make off with them. Were the +things of any considerable value?” +</p> + +<p> +“To a thief they were of no value at all. There were a number of share +certificates, a lease, one or two agreements, some family photographs +and a small box containing an old letter and a scarab. Nothing worth +stealing, you see, for the certificates were made out in my name and +were therefore unnegotiable.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the scarab?” +</p> + +<p> +“That may have been lapis lazuli, but more probably it was a blue +glass imitation. In any case it was of no considerable value. It was +about an inch and a half long. But before you come to any conclusion, +I had better finish the story. The robbery was on Tuesday, the 7th of +June. I gave information to the police, with a description of the +missing property, but nothing happened until Wednesday, the 15th, when +I received a registered parcel bearing the Southampton postmark. On +opening it I found, to my astonishment, the entire contents of the +deed-box, with the exception of the scarab, and this rather mysterious +communication.” +</p> + +<p> +He took from his pocket-book and handed to Thorndyke an ordinary +envelope addressed in typewritten characters, and sealed with a large, +elliptical seal, the face of which was covered with minute +hieroglyphics. +</p> + +<p> +“This,” said Thorndyke, “I take to be an impression of the scarab; and +an excellent impression it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Mr. Blowgrave, “I have no doubt that it is the scarab. +It is about the same size.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked quickly at our client with an expression of surprise. +“But,” he asked, “don’t you recognize the hieroglyphics on it?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Blowgrave smiled deprecatingly. “The fact is,” said he, “I don’t +know anything about hieroglyphics, but I should say, as far as I can +judge, these look the same. What do you think, Nellie?” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Blowgrave looked at the seal—rather vaguely—and replied, “I am +in the same position. Hieroglyphics are to me just funny-looking +things that don’t mean anything. But these look the same to me as +those on our scarab, though I expect any other hieroglyphics would, +for that matter.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke made no comment on this statement, but examined the seal +attentively through his lens. Then he drew out the contents of the +envelope, consisting of two letters, one typewritten and the other in +a faded brown handwriting. The former he read through and then +inspected the paper closely, holding it up to the light to observe the +watermark. +</p> + +<p> +“The paper appears to be of Belgian manufacture,” he remarked, passing +it to me. I confirmed this observation and then read the letter, which +was headed “Southampton” and ran thus:— +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="noindent"> +<i>Dear old pal,</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>I am sending you back some trifles removed in error. The ancient +document is enclosed with this, but the curio is at present in the +custody of my respected uncle. Hope its temporary loss will not +inconvenience you, and that I may be able to return it to you later. +Meanwhile, believe me,</i> +</p> + +<p class="rt1 mt1"> +<i>Your ever affectionate,<br> +Rudolpho.</i> +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“Who is Rudolpho?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“The Lord knows,” replied Mr. Blowgrave. “A pseudonym of our absent +friend, I presume. He seems to be a facetious sort of person.” +</p> + +<p> +“He does,” agreed Thorndyke. “This letter and the seal appear to be +what the schoolboys would call a leg-pull. But still, this is all +quite normal. He has returned you the worthless things and has kept +the one thing that has any sort of negotiable value. Are you quite +clear that the scarab is not more valuable than you have assumed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Mr. Blowgrave, “I have had an expert opinion on it. I +showed it to M. Fouquet, the Egyptologist, when he was over here from +Brussels a few months ago, and his opinion was that it was a worthless +imitation. Not only was it not a genuine scarab, but the inscription +was a sham, too; just a collection of hieroglyphic characters jumbled +together without sense or meaning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Thorndyke, taking another look at the seal through his +lens, “it would seem that Rudolpho, or Rudolpho’s uncle, has got a bad +bargain. Which doesn’t throw much light on the affair.” +</p> + +<p> +At this point Miss Blowgrave intervened. “I think, father,” said she, +“you have not given Dr. Thorndyke quite all the facts about the +scarab. He ought to be told about its connection with Uncle Reuben.” +</p> + +<p> +As the girl spoke Thorndyke looked at her with a curious expression of +suddenly awakened interest. Later I understood the meaning of that +look, but at the time there seemed to me nothing particularly +arresting in her words. +</p> + +<p> +“It is just a family tradition,” Mr. Blowgrave said deprecatingly. +“Probably it is all nonsense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let us have it, at any rate,” said Thorndyke. “We may get some +light from it.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus urged, Mr. Blowgrave hemmed a little shyly and began: +</p> + +<p> +“The story concerns my great-grandfather, Silas Blowgrave, and his +doings during the war with France. It seems that he commanded a +privateer, of which he and his brother Reuben were the joint owners, +and that in the course of their last cruise, they acquired a very +remarkable and valuable collection of jewels. Goodness knows how they +got them; not very honestly, I suspect, for they appear to have been a +pair of precious rascals. Something has been said about the loot from +a South American church or cathedral, but there is really nothing +known about the affair. There are no documents. It is mere oral +tradition and very vague and sketchy. The story goes that when they +had sold off the ship, they came down to live at Shawstead in +Hertfordshire, Silas occupying the manor house—in which I live at +present—and Reuben a farm-house adjoining. The bulk of the loot they +shared out at the end of the cruise, but the jewels were kept apart to +be dealt with later—perhaps when the circumstances under which they +had been acquired had been forgotten. However, both men were +inveterate gamblers, and it seems—according to the testimony of a +servant of Reuben’s who overheard them—that on a certain night when +they had been playing heavily, they decided to finish up by playing +for the whole collection of jewels as a single stake. Silas, who had +the jewels in his custody, was seen to go to the manor house and +return to Reuben’s house carrying a small, iron-bound chest. +</p> + +<p> +“Apparently they played late into the night, after every one else but +the servant had gone to bed, and the luck was with Reuben, though it +seems probable that he gave luck some assistance. At any rate, when +the play was finished and the chest handed over, Silas roundly accused +him of cheating, and we may assume that a pretty serious quarrel took +place. Exactly what happened is not clear, for when the quarrel began +Reuben dismissed the servant, who retired to her bedroom in a distant +part of the house. But in the morning it was discovered that Reuben +and the chest of jewels had both disappeared, and there were distinct +traces of blood in the room in which the two men had been playing. +Silas professed to know nothing about the disappearance; but a +strong—and probably just—suspicion arose that he had murdered his +brother and made away with the jewels. The result was that Silas also +disappeared, and for a long time his whereabouts was not known even by +his wife. Later it transpired that he had taken up his abode, under an +assumed name, in Egypt, and that he had developed an enthusiastic +interest in the then new science of Egyptology—the Rosetta Stone had +been deciphered only a few years previously. After a time he resumed +communication with his wife, but never made any statement as to the +mystery of his brother’s disappearance. A few months before his death +he visited his home in disguise and he then handed to his wife a +little sealed packet which was to be delivered to his only son, +William, on his attaining the age of twenty-one. That packet contained +the scarab and the letter which you have taken from the envelope.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I to read it?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, if you think it worth while,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke opened the yellow sheet of paper and, glancing through the +brown and faded writing, read aloud: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="rt1"> +<i>Cairo</i>, 4<i>th March</i>, 1833. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<i>My dear Son,</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>I am sending you, as my last gift, a valuable scarab, and a few words +of counsel on which I would bid you meditate. Believe me, there is +much wisdom in the lore of Old Egypt. Make it your own. Treasure the +scarab as a precious inheritance. Handle it often but show it to none. +Give your Uncle Reuben Christian burial. It is your duty, and you will +have your reward. He robbed your father, but he shall make +restitution.</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>Farewell!</i> +</p> + +<p class="rt1 mt1"> +<i>Your affectionate father,<br> +Silas Blowgrave.</i> +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +As Thorndyke laid down the letter he looked inquiringly at our client. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, “here are some plain instructions. How have they been +carried out?” +</p> + +<p> +“They haven’t been carried out at all,” replied Mr. Blowgrave. “As to +his son William, my grandfather, he was not disposed to meddle in the +matter. This seemed to be a frank admission that Silas killed his +brother and concealed the body, and William didn’t choose to reopen +the scandal. Besides, the instructions are not so very plain. It is +all very well to say, ‘Give your Uncle Reuben Christian burial,’ but +where the deuce is Uncle Reuben?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is plainly hinted,” said Thorndyke, “that whoever gives the body +Christian burial will stand to benefit, and the word ‘restitution’ +seems to suggest a clue to the whereabouts of the jewels. Has no one +thought it worth while to find out where the body is deposited?” +</p> + +<p> +“But how could they?” demanded Blowgrave. “He doesn’t give the +faintest clue. He talks as if his son knew where the body was. And +then, you know, even supposing Silas did not take the jewels with him, +there was the question, whose property were they? To begin with, they +were pretty certainly stolen property, though no one knows where they +came from. Then Reuben apparently got them from Silas by fraud, and +Silas got them back by robbery and murder. If William had discovered +them he would have had to give them up to Reuben’s sons, and yet they +weren’t strictly Reuben’s property. No one had an undeniable claim to +them, even if they could have found them.” +</p> + +<p> +“But that is not the case now,” said Miss Blowgrave. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Mr. Blowgrave, in answer to Thorndyke’s look of inquiry. +“The position is quite clear now. Reuben’s grandson, my cousin Arthur, +has died recently, and as he had no children, he has dispersed his +property. The old farm-house and the bulk of his estate he has left to +a nephew, but he made a small bequest to my daughter and named her as +the residuary legatee. So that whatever rights Reuben had to the +jewels are now vested in her, and on my death she will be Silas’s +heir, too. As a matter of fact,” Mr. Blowgrave continued, “we were +discussing this very question on the night of the robbery. I may as +well tell you that my girl will be left pretty poorly off when I go, +for there is a heavy mortgage on our property and mighty little +capital. Uncle Reuben’s jewels would have made the old home secure for +her if we could have laid our hands on them. However, I mustn’t take +up your time with our domestic affairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your domestic affairs are not entirely irrelevant,” said Thorndyke. +“But what is it that you want me to do in the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Blowgrave, “my house has been robbed and my premises set +fire to. The police can apparently do nothing. They say there is no +clue at all unless the robbery was committed by somebody in the house, +which is absurd, seeing that the servants were all engaged in putting +out the fire. But I want the robber traced and punished, and I want to +get the scarab back. It may be intrinsically valueless, as M. Fouquet +said, but Silas’s testamentary letter seems to indicate that it had +some value. At any rate, it is an heirloom, and I am loath to lose it. +It seems a presumptuous thing to ask you to investigate a trumpery +robbery, but I should take it as a great kindness if you would look +into the matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cases of robbery pure and simple,” replied Thorndyke, “are rather +alien to my ordinary practice, but in this one there are certain +curious features that seem to make an investigation worth while. Yes, +Mr. Blowgrave, I will look into the case, and I have some hope that we +may be able to lay our hands on the robber, in spite of the apparent +absence of clues. I will ask you to leave both these letters for me to +examine more minutely, and I shall probably want to make an inspection +of the premises—perhaps to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whenever you like,” said Blowgrave. “I am delighted that you are +willing to undertake the inquiry. I have heard so much about you from +my friend Stalker, of the Griffin Life Assurance Company, for whom you +have acted on several occasions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Before you go,” said Thorndyke, “there is one point that we must +clear up. Who is there besides yourselves that knows of the existence +of the scarab and this letter and the history attaching to them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I really can’t say,” replied Blowgrave. “No one has seen them but my +cousin Arthur. I once showed them to him, and he may have talked about +them in the family. I didn’t treat the matter as a secret.” +</p> + +<p class="spacer"> +* * * * * * * +</p> + +<p> +When our visitors had gone we discussed the bearings of the case. +</p> + +<p> +“It is quite a romantic story,” said I, “and the robbery has its +points of interest, but I am rather inclined to agree with the +police—there is mighty little to go on.” +</p> + +<p> +“There would have been less,” said Thorndyke, “if our sporting friend +hadn’t been so pleased with himself. That typewritten letter was a +piece of gratuitous impudence. Our gentleman overrated his security +and crowed too loud.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see that there is much to be gleaned from the letter, all the +same,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to hear you say that, Jervis,” he exclaimed, “because I +was proposing to hand the letter over to you to examine and report +on.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was only referring to the superficial appearances,” I said hastily. +“No doubt a detailed examination will bring something more distinctive +into view.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no doubt it will,” he said, “and as there are reasons for +pushing on the investigation as quickly as possible, I suggest that +you get to work at once. I shall occupy myself with the old letter and +the envelope.” +</p> + +<p> +On this I began my examination without delay, and as a preliminary I +proceeded to take a facsimile photograph of the letter by putting it +in a large printing-frame with a sensitive plate and a plate of clear +glass. The resulting negative showed not only the typewritten +lettering, but also the watermark and wire lines of the paper, and a +faint grease spot. Next I turned my attention to the lettering itself, +and here I soon began to accumulate quite a number of identifiable +peculiarities. The machine was apparently a Corona, fitted with the +small “Elite” type, and the alignment was markedly defective. The +“lower case”—or small—“a” was well below the line, although the +capital “A” appeared to be correctly placed; the “u” was slightly +above the line, and the small “m” was partly clogged with dirt. +</p> + +<p> +Up to this point I had been careful to manipulate the letter with +forceps (although it had been handled by at least three persons, to my +knowledge), and I now proceeded to examine it for finger-prints. As I +could detect none by mere inspection, I dusted the back of the paper +with finely-powdered fuchsin, and distributed the powder by tapping +the paper lightly. This brought into view quite a number of +finger-prints, especially round the edges of the letter, and though +most of them were very faint and shadowy, it was possible to make out +the ridge pattern well enough for our purpose. Having blown off the +excess of powder, I took the letter to the room where the large +copying camera was set up, to photograph it before developing the +finger-prints on the front. But here I found our laboratory assistant, +Polton, in possession, with the sealed envelope fixed to the copying +easel. +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t be a minute, sir,” said he. “The doctor wants an enlarged +photograph of this seal. I’ve got the plate in.” +</p> + +<p> +I waited while he made his exposure and then proceeded to take the +photograph of the letter, or rather of the finger-prints on the back +of it. When I had developed the negative I powdered the front of the +letter and brought out several more finger-prints—mostly thumbs this +time. They were a little difficult to see where they were imposed on +the lettering, but, as the latter was bright blue and the fuchsin +powder was red, this confusion disappeared in the photograph, in which +the lettering was almost invisible while the finger-prints were more +distinct than they had appeared to the eye. This completed my +examination, and when I had verified the make of typewriter by +reference to our album of specimens of typewriting, I left the +negatives for Polton to dry and print and went down to the +sitting-room to draw up my little report. I had just finished this and +was speculating on what had become of Thorndyke, when I heard his +quick step on the stair and a few moments later he entered with a roll +of paper in his hand. This he unrolled on the table, fixing it open +with one or two lead paper-weights, and I came round to inspect it, +when I found it to be a sheet of the Ordnance map on the scale of +twenty-five inches to the mile. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is the Blowgraves’ place,” said Thorndyke, “nearly in the middle +of the sheet. This is his house—Shawstead Manor—and that will +probably be the outbuilding that was on fire. I take it that the house +marked Dingle Farm is the one that Uncle Reuben occupied.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably,” I agreed. “But I don’t see why you wanted this map if you +are going down to the place itself to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“The advantage of a map,” said Thorndyke, “is that you can see all +over it at once and get the lie of the land well into your mind; and +you can measure all distances accurately and quickly with a scale and +a pair of dividers. When we go down to-morrow, we shall know our way +about as well as Blowgrave himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what use will that be?” I asked. “Where does the topography come +into the case?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Jervis,” he replied, “there is the robber, for instance; he +came from somewhere and he went somewhere. A study of the map may give +us a hint as to his movements. But here comes Polton ‘with the +documents,’ as poor Miss Flite would say. What have you got for us, +Polton?” +</p> + +<p> +“They aren’t quite dry, sir,” said Polton, laying four large bromide +prints on the table. “There’s the +</p> + + +<figure> +<a href="images/img_017.jpg"><img alt="img_017.jpg" id="img_017" src="images/img_017_th.jpg"></a> +<figcaption> +Thorndyke’s tracing of the impression of the Scarab +</figcaption> +</figure> + + +<p class="noindent"> +enlargement of the seal—ten by eight, mounted—and three unmounted +prints of Dr. Jervis’s.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at my photographs critically. “They’re excellent, +Jervis,” said he. “The finger-prints are perfectly legible, though +faint. I only hope some of them are the right ones. That is my left +thumb. I don’t see yours. The small one is presumably Miss +Blowgrave’s. We must take her finger-prints to-morrow, and her +father’s, too. Then we shall know if we have got any of the robber’s.” +He ran his eye over my report and nodded approvingly. “There is plenty +there to enable us to identify the typewriter if we can get hold of +it, and the paper is very distinctive. What do you think of the seal?” +he added, laying the enlarged photograph before me. +</p> + +<p> +“It is magnificent,” I replied, with a grin. “Perfectly monumental.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you grinning at?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“I was thinking that you seem to be counting your chickens in pretty +good time,” said I. “You are making elaborate preparations to identify +the scarab, but you are rather disregarding the classical advice of +the prudent Mrs. Glasse.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have a presentiment that we shall get that scarab,” said he. “At +any rate we ought to be in a position to identify it instantly and +certainly if we are able to get a sight of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are not likely to,” said I. “Still, there is no harm in providing +for the improbable.” +</p> + +<p> +This was evidently Thorndyke’s view, and he certainly made ample +provision for this most improbable contingency; for, having furnished +himself with a drawing-board and a sheet of tracing-paper, he pinned +the latter over the photograph on the board and proceeded, with a fine +pen and hectograph ink, to make a careful and minute tracing of the +intricate and bewildering hieroglyphic inscription on the seal. When +he had finished it he transferred it to a clay duplicator and took off +half a dozen copies, one of which he handed to me. I looked at it +dubiously and remarked: “You have said that the medical jurist must +make all knowledge his province. Has he got to be an Egyptologist, +too?” +</p> + +<p> +“He will be the better medical jurist if he is,” was the reply, of +which I made a mental note for my future guidance. But meanwhile +Thorndyke’s proceedings were, to me, perfectly incomprehensible. What +was his object in making this minute tracing? The seal itself was +sufficient for identification. I lingered awhile hoping that some +fresh development might throw a light on the mystery. But his next +proceeding was like to have reduced me to stupefaction. I saw him go +to the bookshelves and take down a book. As he laid it on the table I +glanced at the title, and when I saw that it was Raper’s “Navigation +Tables” I stole softly out into the lobby, put on my hat and went for +a walk. +</p> + +<p> +When I returned the investigation was apparently concluded, for +Thorndyke was seated in his easy chair, placidly reading “The Compleat +Angler.” On the table lay a large circular protractor, a +straight-edge, an architect’s scale and a sheet of tracing-paper on +which was a tracing in hectograph ink of Shawstead Manor. +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you make this tracing?” I asked. “Why not take the map +itself?” +</p> + +<p> +“We don’t want the whole of it,” he replied, “and I dislike cutting up +maps.” +</p> + +<p class="mt1"> +By taking an informal lunch in the train, we arrived at Shawstead +Manor by half-past two. Our approach up the drive had evidently been +observed, for Blowgrave and his daughter were waiting at the porch to +receive us. The former came forward with outstretched hand, but a +distinctly woebegone expression, and exclaimed: “It is most kind of +you to come down; but alas! you are too late.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too late for what?” demanded Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“I will show you,” replied Blowgrave, and seizing my colleague by the +arm, he strode off excitedly to a little wicket at the side of the +house, and, passing through it, hurried along a narrow alley that +skirted the garden wall and ended in a large meadow, at one end of +which stood a dilapidated windmill. Across this meadow he bustled, +dragging my colleague with him, until he reached a heap of +freshly-turned earth, where he halted and pointed tragically to a spot +where the turf had evidently been raised and untidily replaced. +</p> + +<p> +“There!” he exclaimed, stooping to pull up the loose turfs and thereby +exposing what was evidently a large hole, recently and hastily filled +in. “That was done last night or early this morning, for I walked over +this meadow only yesterday evening and there was no sign of disturbed +ground then.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke stood looking down at the hole with a faint smile. “And what +do you infer from that?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Infer!” shrieked Blowgrave. “Why, I infer that whoever dug this hole +was searching for Uncle Reuben and the lost jewels!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am inclined to agree with you,” Thorndyke said calmly. “He happened +to search in the wrong place, but that is his affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“The wrong place!” Blowgrave and his daughter exclaimed in unison. +“How do you know it is the wrong place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because,” replied Thorndyke, “I believe I know the right place, and +this is not it. But we can put the matter to the test, and we had +better do so. Can you get a couple of men with picks and shovels? Or +shall we handle the tools ourselves?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that would be better,” said Blowgrave, who was quivering with +excitement. “We don’t want to take any one into our confidence if we +can help it.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Thorndyke agreed. “Then I suggest that you fetch the tools while +I locate the spot.” +</p> + +<p> +Blowgrave assented eagerly and went off at a brisk trot, while the +young lady remained with us and watched Thorndyke with intense +curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“I mustn’t interrupt you with questions,” said she, “but I can’t +imagine how you found out where Uncle Reuben was buried.” +</p> + +<p> +“We will go into that later,” he replied; “but first we have got to +find Uncle Reuben.” He laid his research-case down on the ground, and +opening it, took out three sheets of paper, each bearing a duplicate +of his tracing of the map; and on each was marked a spot on this +meadow from which a number of lines radiated like the spokes of a +wheel. +</p> + +<p> +“You see, Jervis,” he said, exhibiting them to me, “the advantage of a +map. I have been able to rule off these sets of bearings regardless of +obstructions, such as those young trees, which have arisen since +Silas’s day, and mark the spot in its correct place. If the recent +obstructions prevent us from taking the bearings, we can still find +the spot by measurements with the land-chain or tape.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why have you got three plans?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Because there are three imaginable places. No. 1 is the most likely; +No. 2 less likely, but possible; No. 3 is impossible. That is the one +that our friend tried last night. No. 1 is among those young trees, +and we will now see if we can pick up the bearings in spite of them.” +</p> + +<p> +We moved on to the clump of young trees, where Thorndyke took from the +research-case a tall, folding camera-tripod and a large prismatic +compass with an aluminium dial. With the latter he took one or two +trial bearings and then, setting up the tripod, fixed the compass on +it. For some minutes Miss Blowgrave and I watched him as he shifted +the tripod from spot to spot, peering through the sight-vane of the +compass and glancing occasionally at the map. At length he turned to +us and said: +</p> + +<p> +“We are in luck. None of these trees interferes with our bearings.” He +took from the research-case a surveyor’s arrow, and sticking it in the +ground under the tripod, added: “That is the spot. But we may have to +dig a good way round it, for a compass is only a rough instrument.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment Mr. Blowgrave staggered up, breathing hard, and flung +down on the ground three picks, two shovels and a spade. “I won’t +hinder you, Doctor, by asking for explanations,” said he, “but I am +utterly mystified. You must tell us what it all means when we have +finished our work.” +</p> + +<p> +This Thorndyke promised to do, but meanwhile he took off his coat, and +rolling up his shirt sleeves, seized the spade and began cutting out a +large square of turf. As the soil was uncovered, Blowgrave and I +attacked it with picks and Miss Blowgrave shovelled away the loose +earth. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know how far down we have to go?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“The body lies six feet below the surface,” Thorndyke replied; and as +he spoke he laid down his spade, and taking a telescope from the +research-case, swept it round the margin of the meadow and finally +pointed it at a farm-house some six hundred yards distant, of which he +made a somewhat prolonged inspection, after which he took the +remaining pick and fell to work on the opposite corner of the exposed +square of earth. +</p> + +<p> +For nearly half an hour we worked on steadily, gradually eating our +way downwards, plying pick and shovel alternately, while Miss +Blowgrave cleared the loose earth away from the edges of the deepening +pit. Then a halt was called and we came to the surface, wiping our +faces. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, Nellie,” said Blowgrave, divesting himself of his waistcoat, +“a jug of lemonade and four tumblers would be useful, unless our +visitors would prefer beer.” +</p> + +<p> +We both gave our votes for lemonade, and Miss Nellie tripped away +towards the house, while Thorndyke, taking up his telescope, once more +inspected the farm-house. +</p> + +<p> +“You seem greatly interested in that house,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“I am,” he replied, handing me the telescope. “Just take a look at the +window in the right hand gable, but keep under the tree.” +</p> + +<p> +I pointed the telescope at the gable and there observed an open window +at which a man was seated. He held a binocular glass to his eyes and +the instrument appeared to be directed at us. +</p> + +<p> +“We are being spied on, I fancy,” said I, passing the telescope to +Blowgrave, “but I suppose it doesn’t matter. This is your land, isn’t +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Blowgrave, “but still, we didn’t want any spectators. +That is Harold Bowker,” he added, steadying the telescope against a +tree, “my cousin Arthur’s nephew, whom I told you about as having +inherited the farm-house. He seems mighty interested in us; but small +things interest one in the country.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the appearance of Miss Nellie, advancing across the meadow with +an inviting looking basket, diverted our attention from our +inquisitive watcher. Six thirsty eyes were riveted on that basket +until it drew near and presently disgorged a great glass jug and four +tumblers, when we each took off a long and delicious draught and then +jumped down into the pit to resume our labours. +</p> + +<p> +Another half-hour passed. We had excavated in some places to nearly +the full depth and were just discussing the advisability of another +short rest when Blowgrave, who was working in one corner, uttered a +loud cry and stood up suddenly, holding something in his fingers. A +glance at the object showed it to be a bone, brown and earth-stained, +but evidently a bone. Evidently, too, a human bone, as Thorndyke +decided when Blowgrave handed it to him triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +“We have been very fortunate,” said he, “to get so near at the first +trial. This is from the right great toe, so we may assume that the +skeleton lies just outside this pit, but we had better excavate +carefully in your corner and see exactly how the bones lie.” This he +proceeded to do himself, probing cautiously with the spade and +clearing the earth away from the corner. Very soon the remaining bones +of the right foot came into view and then the ends of the two +leg-bones and a portion of the left foot. +</p> + +<p> +“We can see now,” said he, “how the skeleton lies, and all we have to +do is to extend the excavation in that direction. But there is only +room for one to work down here. I think you and Mr. Blowgrave had +better dig down from the surface.” +</p> + +<p> +On this, I climbed out of the pit, followed reluctantly by Blowgrave, +who still held the little brown bone in his hand and was in a state of +wild excitement and exultation that somewhat scandalized his daughter. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems rather ghoulish,” she remarked, “to be gloating over poor +Uncle Reuben’s body in this way.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” said Blowgrave, “it isn’t reverent. But I didn’t kill Uncle +Reuben, you know, whereas—well it was a long time ago.” With this +rather inconsequent conclusion he took a draught of lemonade, seized +his pick and fell to work with a will. I, too, indulged in a draught +and passed a full tumbler down to Thorndyke. But before resuming my +labours I picked up the telescope and once more inspected the +farm-house. The window was still open, but the watcher had apparently +become bored with the not very thrilling spectacle. At any rate he had +disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +From this time onward every few minutes brought some discovery. First, +a pair of deeply rusted steel shoe buckles; then one or two buttons, +and presently a fine gold watch with a fob-chain and a bunch of seals, +looking uncannily new and fresh and seeming more fraught with tragedy +than even the bones themselves. In his cautious digging, Thorndyke was +careful not to disturb the skeleton; and looking down into the narrow +trench that was growing from the corner of the pit, I could see both +legs, with only the right foot missing, projecting from the miniature +cliff. Meanwhile our part of the trench was deepening rapidly, so that +Thorndyke presently warned us to stop digging and bade us come down +and shovel away the earth as he disengaged it. +</p> + +<p> +At length the whole skeleton, excepting the head, was uncovered, +though it lay undisturbed as it might have lain in its coffin. And +now, as Thorndyke picked away the earth around the head, we could see +that the skull was propped forward as if it rested on a high pillow. A +little more careful probing with the pick-point served to explain this +appearance. For as the earth fell away and disclosed the grinning +skull, there came into view the edge and iron-bound corners of a small +chest. +</p> + +<p> +It was an impressive spectacle; weird, solemn and rather dreadful. +There for over a century the ill-fated gambler had lain, his +mouldering head pillowed on the booty of unrecorded villainy, booty +that had been won by fraud, retrieved by violence, and hidden at last +by the final winner with the witness of his crime. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is a fine text for a moralist who would preach on the vanity of +riches,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +We all stood silent for a while, gazing, not without awe, at the stark +figure that lay guarding the ill-gotten treasure. Miss Blowgrave—who +had been helped down when we descended—crept closer to her father and +murmured that it was “rather awful”; while Blowgrave himself displayed +a queer mixture of exultation and shuddering distaste. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the silence was broken by a voice from above, and we all +looked up with a start. A youngish man was standing on the brink of +the pit, looking down on us with very evident disapproval. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems that I have come just in the nick of time,” observed the +new-comer. “I shall have to take possession of that chest, you know, +and of the remains, too, I suppose. That is my ancestor, Reuben +Blowgrave.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Harold,” said Blowgrave, “you can have Uncle Reuben if you want +him. But the chest belongs to Nellie.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Mr. Harold Bowker—I recognized him now as the watcher from the +window—dropped down into the pit and advanced with something of a +swagger. +</p> + +<p> +“I am Reuben’s heir,” said he, “through my Uncle Arthur, and I take +possession of this property and the remains.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, Harold,” said Blowgrave, “but Nellie is Arthur’s residuary +legatee, and this is the residue of the estate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rubbish!” exclaimed Bowker. “By the way, how did you find out where +he was buried?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that was quite simple,” replied Thorndyke with unexpected +geniality. “I’ll show you the plan.” He climbed up to the surface and +returned in a few moments with the three tracings and his letter-case. +“This is how we located the spot.” He handed the plan marked No. 3 to +Bowker, who took it from him and stood looking at it with a puzzled +frown. +</p> + +<p> +“But this isn’t the place,” he said at length. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it?” queried Thorndyke. “No, of course; I’ve given you the +wrong one. This is the plan.” He handed Bowker the plan marked No. 1, +and took the other from him, laying it down on a heap of earth. Then, +as Bowker pored gloomily over No. 1, he took a knife and a pencil from +his pocket, and with his back to our visitor, scraped the lead of the +pencil, letting the black powder fall on the plan that he had just +laid down. I watched him with some curiosity; and when I observed that +the black scrapings fell on two spots near the edges of the paper, a +sudden suspicion flashed into my mind, which was confirmed when I saw +him tap the paper lightly with his pencil, gently blow away the +powder, and quickly producing my photograph of the typewritten letter +from his case, hold it for a moment beside the plan. +</p> + +<p> +“This is all very well,” said Bowker, looking up from the plan, “but +how did you find out about these bearings?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke swiftly replaced the letter in his case, and turning round, +replied, “I am afraid I can’t give you any further information.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you, indeed!” Bowker exclaimed insolently. “Perhaps I shall +compel you to. But, at any rate, I forbid any of you to lay hands on +my property.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at him steadily and said in an ominously quiet tone: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, listen to me, Mr. Bowker. Let us have an end of this nonsense. +You have played a risky game and you have lost. How much you have lost +I can’t say until I know whether Mr. Blowgrave intends to prosecute.” +</p> + +<p> +“To prosecute!” shouted Bowker. “What the deuce do you mean by +prosecute?” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean,” said Thorndyke, “that on the 7th of June, after nine o’clock +at night, you entered the dwelling-house of Mr. Blowgrave and stole +and carried away certain of his goods and chattels. A part of them you +have restored, but you are still in possession of some of the stolen +property, to wit, a scarab and a deed-box.” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke made this statement in his calm, level tones, Bowker’s +face blanched to a tallowy white, and he stood staring at my +colleague, the very picture of astonishment and dismay. But he fired a +last shot. +</p> + +<p> +“This is sheer midsummer madness,” he exclaimed huskily; “and you know +it.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke turned to our host. “It is for you to settle, Mr. +Blowgrave,” said he. “I hold conclusive evidence that Mr. Bowker stole +your deed-box. If you decide to prosecute I shall produce that +evidence in court and he will certainly be convicted.” +</p> + +<p> +Blowgrave and his daughter looked at the accused man with an +embarrassment almost equal to his own. +</p> + +<p> +“I am astounded,” the former said at length; “but I don’t want to be +vindictive. Look here, Harold, hand over the scarab and we’ll say no +more about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t do that,” said Thorndyke. “The law doesn’t allow you to +compound a robbery. He can return the property if he pleases and you +can do as you think best about prosecuting. But you can’t make +conditions.” +</p> + +<p> +There was silence for some seconds; then, without another word, the +crestfallen adventurer turned, and scrambling up out of the pit, took +a hasty departure. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +It was nearly a couple of hours later that, after a leisurely wash and +a hasty, nondescript meal, we carried the little chest from the +dining-room to the study. Here, when he had closed the French window +and drawn the curtains, Mr. Blowgrave produced a set of tools and we +fell to work on the iron fastenings of the chest. It was no light +task, though a century’s rust had thinned the stout bands, but at +length the lid yielded to the thrust of a long case-opener and rose +with a protesting creak. The chest was lined with a double thickness +of canvas, apparently part of a sail, and contained a number of small +leathern bags, which, as we lifted them out, one by one, felt as if +they were filled with pebbles. But when we untied the thongs of one +and emptied its contents into a wooden bowl, Blowgrave heaved a sigh +of ecstasy and Miss Nellie uttered a little scream of delight. They +were all cut stones, and most of them of exceptional size; rubies, +emeralds, sapphires, and a few diamonds. As to their value, we could +form but the vaguest guess; but Thorndyke, who was a fair judge of +gem-stones, gave it as his opinion that they were fine specimens of +their kind, though roughly cut, and that they had probably formed the +enrichment of some shrine. +</p> + +<p> +“The question is,” said Blowgrave, gazing gloatingly on the bowl of +sparkling gems, “what are we to do with them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suggest,” said Thorndyke, “that Dr. Jervis stays here to-night to +help you to guard them and that in the morning you take them up to +London and deposit them at your bank.” +</p> + +<p> +Blowgrave fell in eagerly with this suggestion, which I seconded. +“But,” said he, “that chest is a queer-looking package to be carrying +abroad. Now, if we only had that confounded deed-box——” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a deed-box on the cabinet behind you,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +Blowgrave turned round sharply. “God bless us!” he exclaimed. “It has +come back the way it went. Harold must have slipped in at the window +while we were at tea. Well, I’m glad he has made restitution. When I +look at that bowl and think what he must have narrowly missed, I don’t +feel inclined to be hard on him. I suppose the scarab is inside—not +that it matters much now.” +</p> + +<p> +The scarab was inside in an envelope; and as Thorndyke turned it over +in his hand and examined the hieroglyphics on it through his lens, +Miss Blowgrave asked: “Is it of any value, Dr. Thorndyke? It can’t +have any connection with the secret of the hiding-place, because you +found the jewels without it. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way, Doctor, I don’t know whether it is permissible for me to +ask, but how on earth <i>did</i> you find out where the jewels were hidden? +To me it looks like black magic.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke laughed in a quiet, inward fashion. “There is nothing +magical about it,” said he. “It was a perfectly simple, +straightforward problem. But Miss Nellie is wrong. We had the scarab; +that is to say we had the wax impression of it, which is the same +thing. And the scarab was the key to the riddle. You see,” he +continued, “Silas’s letter and the scarab formed together a sort of +intelligence test.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did they?” said Blowgrave. “Then he drew a blank every time.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke chuckled. “His descendants were certainly a little lacking +in enterprise,” he admitted. “Silas’s instructions were perfectly +plain and explicit. Whoever would find the treasure must first acquire +some knowledge of Egyptian lore and must study the scarab attentively. +It was the broadest of hints, but no one—excepting Harold Bowker, who +must have heard about the scarab from his Uncle Arthur—seems to have +paid any attention to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Now it happens that I have just enough elementary knowledge of the +hieroglyphic characters to enable me to spell them out when they are +used alphabetically; and as soon as I saw the seal, I could see that +these hieroglyphics formed English words. My attention was first +attracted by the second group of signs, which spelled the word +‘Reuben,’ and then I saw that the first group spelled ‘Uncle.’ Of +course, the instant I heard Miss Nellie speak of the connection +between the scarab and Uncle Reuben, the murder was out. I saw at a +glance that the scarab contained all the required information. Last +night I made a careful tracing of the hieroglyphics and then rendered +them into our own alphabet. This is the result.” +</p> + +<p> +He took from his letter-case and spread out on the table a duplicate +of the tracing which I had seen him make, and of which he had given me +a copy. But since I had last seen it, it had received an addition; +under each group of signs the equivalents in modern Roman lettering +had been written, and these made the following words: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“UNKL RUBN IS IN TH MILL FIELD SKS FT DOWN CHURCH SPIR NORTH TEN +THIRTY EAST DINGL SOUTH GABL NORTH ATY FORTY FIF WST GOD SAF KING +JORJ.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + + +<figure> +<a href="images/img_035.jpg"><img alt="img_035.jpg" id="img_035" src="images/img_035_th.jpg"></a> +<figcaption> +The transliteration of the hieroglyphics. +</figcaption> +</figure> + + +<p> +Our two friends gazed at Thorndyke’s transliteration in blank +astonishment. At length Blowgrave remarked: “But this translation must +have demanded a very profound knowledge of the Egyptian writing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” replied Thorndyke. “Any intelligent person could master +the Egyptian alphabet in an hour. The language, of course, is quite +another matter. The spelling of this is a little crude, but it is +quite intelligible and does Silas great credit, considering how little +was known in his time.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you suppose M. Fouquet came to overlook this?” Blowgrave +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally enough,” was the reply. “He was looking for an Egyptian +inscription. But this is not an Egyptian inscription. Does he speak +English?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little. Practically not at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, as the words are English words and imperfectly spelt, the +hieroglyphics must have appeared to him mere nonsense. And he was +right as to the scarab being an imitation.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is another point,” said Blowgrave. “How was it that Harold made +that extraordinary mistake about the place? The directions are clear +enough. All you had to do was to go out there with a compass and take +the bearings just as they were given.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” said Thorndyke, “that is exactly what he did, and hence the +mistake. He was apparently unaware of the phenomenon known as the +Secular Variation of the Compass. As you know, the compass does +not—usually—point to true north, but to the Magnetic North; and the +Magnetic North is continually changing its position. When Reuben was +buried—about 1810—it was twenty-four degrees, twenty-six minutes +west of true north; at the present time it is fourteen degrees, +forty-eight minutes west of true north. So Harold’s bearings would be +no less than ten degrees out, which, of course, gave him a totally +wrong position. But Silas was a ship-master, a navigator, and of +course, knew all about the vagaries of the compass; and, as his +directions were intended for use at some date unknown to him, I +assumed that the bearings that he gave were true bearings—that when +he said ‘north’ he meant true north, which is always the same; and +this turned out to be the case. But I also prepared a plan with +magnetic bearings corrected up to date. Here are the three plans: No. +1—the one we used—showing true bearings; No. 2, showing corrected +magnetic bearings which might have given us the correct spot; and No. +3, with uncorrected magnetic bearings, giving us the spot where Harold +dug, and which could not possibly have been the right spot.” +</p> + +<p class="mt1"> +On the following morning I escorted the deed-box, filled with the +booty and tied up and sealed with the scarab, to Mr. Blowgrave’s bank. +And that ended our connection with the case; excepting that, a month +or two later, we attended by request the unveiling in Shawstead +churchyard of a fine monument to Reuben Blowgrave. This took the +slightly inappropriate form of an obelisk, on which were cut the name +and approximate dates, with the added inscription: “Cast thy bread +upon the waters and it shall return after many days”; concerning which +Thorndyke remarked dryly that he supposed the exhortation applied +equally even if the bread happened to belong to some one else. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch02"> +II.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE CASE OF THE WHITE FOOT-PRINTS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">Well</span>,” said my friend Foxton, pursuing a familiar and apparently +inexhaustible topic, “I’d sooner have your job than my own.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve no doubt you would,” was my unsympathetic reply. “I never met a +man who wouldn’t. We all tend to consider other men’s jobs in terms of +their advantages and our own in terms of their drawbacks. It is human +nature.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s all very well for you to be so beastly philosophical,” +retorted Foxton. “You wouldn’t be if you were in my place. Here, in +Margate, it’s measles, chicken-pox and scarlatina all the summer, and +bronchitis, colds and rheumatism all the winter. A deadly monotony. +Whereas you and Thorndyke sit there in your chambers and let your +clients feed you up with the raw material of romance. Why, your life +is a sort of everlasting Adelphi drama.” +</p> + +<p> +“You exaggerate, Foxton,” said I. “We, like you, have our routine +work, only it is never heard of outside the Law Courts; and you, like +every other doctor, must run up against mystery and romance from time +to time.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton shook his head as he held out his hand for my cup. “I don’t,” +said he. “My practice yields nothing but an endless round of dull +routine.” +</p> + +<p> +And then, as if in commentary on this last statement, the housemaid +burst into the room and, with hardly dissembled agitation, exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, sir, the page from Beddingfield’s Boarding House says +that a lady has been found dead in her bed and would you go round +there immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, Jane,” said Foxton, and as the maid retired, he +deliberately helped himself to another fried egg and, looking across +the table at me, exclaimed: “Isn’t that always the way? Come +immediately—now—this very instant, although the patient may have +been considering for a day or two whether he’ll send for you or not. +But directly he decides, you must spring out of bed, or jump up from +your breakfast, and run.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s quite true,” I agreed; “but this really does seem to be an +urgent case.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the urgency?” demanded Foxton. “The woman is already dead. Any +one would think she was in imminent danger of coming to life again and +that my instant arrival was the only thing that could prevent such a +catastrophe.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve only a third-hand statement that she is dead,” said I. “It is +just possible that she isn’t; and even if she is, as you will have to +give evidence at the inquest, you don’t want the police to get there +first and turn out the room before you’ve made your inspection.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gad!” exclaimed Foxton. “I hadn’t thought of that. Yes. You’re right. +I’ll hop round at once.” +</p> + +<p> +He swallowed the remainder of the egg at a single gulp and rose from +the table. Then he paused and stood for a few moments looking down at +me irresolutely. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder, Jervis,” he said, “if you would mind coming round with me. +You know all the medico-legal ropes, and I don’t. What do you say?” +</p> + +<p> +I agreed instantly, having, in fact, been restrained only by delicacy +from making the suggestion myself; and when I had fetched from my room +my pocket camera and telescopic tripod, we set forth together without +further delay. +</p> + +<p> +Beddingfield’s Boarding House was but a few minutes’ walk from +Foxton’s residence, being situated near the middle of Ethelred Road, +Cliftonville, a quiet, suburban street which abounded in similar +establishments, many of which, I noticed, were undergoing a +spring-cleaning and renovation to prepare them for the approaching +season. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the house,” said Foxton, “where that woman is standing at the +front door. Look at the boarders, collected at the dining-room window. +There’s a rare commotion in that house, I’ll warrant.” +</p> + +<p> +Here, arriving at the house, he ran up the steps and accosted in +sympathetic tones the elderly woman who stood by the open street door. +</p> + +<p> +“What a dreadful thing this is, Mrs. Beddingfield! Terrible! Most +distressing for you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you’re right, Dr. Foxton,” she replied. “It’s an awful affair. +Shocking. So bad for business, too. I do hope and trust there won’t be +any scandal.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I hope not,” said Foxton. “There shan’t be if I can help it. +And as my friend, Dr. Jervis, who is staying with me for a few days, +is a lawyer as well as a doctor, we shall have the best advice. When +was the affair discovered?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just before I sent for you, Dr. Foxton. The maid noticed that Mrs. +Toussaint—that is the poor creature’s name—had not taken in her hot +water, so she knocked at the door. As she couldn’t get any answer, she +tried the door and found it bolted on the inside, and then she came +and told me. I went up and knocked loudly, and then, as I couldn’t get +any reply, I told our boy, James, to force the door open with a +case-opener, which he did quite easily as the bolt was only a small +one. Then I went in, all of a tremble, for I had a presentiment that +there was something wrong; and there she was, lying stone dead, with a +most ’orrible stare on her face and an empty bottle in her hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“A bottle, eh!” said Foxton. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. She’d made away with herself, poor thing; and all on account of +some silly love affair—and it was hardly even that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” said Foxton. “The usual thing. You must tell us about that +later. Now we’d better go up and see the patient—at least +the—er—perhaps you’ll show us the room, Mrs. Beddingfield.” +</p> + +<p> +The landlady turned and preceded us up the stairs to the first-floor +back, where she paused, and softly opening a door, peered nervously +into the room. As we stepped past her and entered, she seemed inclined +to follow, but, at a significant glance from me, Foxton persuasively +ejected her and closed the door. Then we stood silent for a while and +looked about us. +</p> + +<p> +In the aspect of the room there was something strangely incongruous +with the tragedy that had been enacted within its walls; a mingling of +the commonplace and the terrible that almost amounted to anticlimax. +Through the wide-open window the bright spring sunshine streamed in on +the garish wall-paper and cheap furniture; from the street below, the +periodic shouts of a man selling “sole and mack-ro!” broke into the +brisk staccato of a barrel-organ and both sounds mingled with a +raucous voice close at hand, cheerfully trolling a popular song, and +accounted for by a linen-clad elbow that bobbed in front of the window +and evidently appertained to a house painter on an adjacent ladder. +</p> + +<p> +It was all very commonplace and familiar and discordantly out of +character with the stark figure that lay on the bed like a waxen +effigy symbolic of tragedy. Here was none of that gracious somnolence +in which death often presents itself with a suggestion of eternal +repose. This woman was dead; horribly, aggressively dead. The thin, +sallow face was rigid as stone, the dark eyes stared into infinite +space with a horrid fixity that was quite disturbing to look on. And +yet the posture of the corpse was not uneasy, being, in fact, rather +curiously symmetrical, with both arms outside the bed-clothes and both +hands closed, the right grasping, as Mrs. Beddingfield had said, an +empty bottle. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Foxton, as he stood looking down on the dead woman, “it +seems a pretty clear case. She appears to have laid herself out and +kept hold of the bottle so that there should be no mistake. How long +do you suppose this woman has been dead, Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +I felt the rigid limbs and tested the temperature of the body surface. +</p> + +<p> +“Not less than six hours,” I replied. “Probably more. I should say +that she died about two o’clock this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that is about all we can say,” said Foxton, “until the +post-mortem has been made. Everything looks quite straightforward. No +signs of a struggle or marks of violence. That blood on the mouth is +probably due to her biting her lip when she drank from the bottle. +Yes; here’s a little cut on the inside of the lip, corresponding to +the upper incisors. By the way, I wonder if there is anything left in +the bottle.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, he drew the small, unlabelled, green glass phial from the +closed hand—out of which it slipped quite easily—and held it up to +the light. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he exclaimed, “there’s more than a drachm left; quite enough +for an analysis. But I don’t recognize the smell. Do you?” +</p> + +<p> +I sniffed at the bottle and was aware of a faint unfamiliar vegetable +odour. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” I answered. “It appears to be a watery solution of some kind, +but I can’t give it a name. Where is the cork?” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t seen it,” he replied. “Probably it is on the floor +somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +We both stooped to look for the missing cork and presently found it in +the shadow, under the little bedside table. But, in the course of that +brief search, I found something else, which had indeed been lying in +full view all the time—a wax match. Now a wax match is a perfectly +innocent and very commonplace object, but yet the presence of this one +gave me pause. In the first place, women do not, as a rule, use wax +matches, though there was not much in that. What was more to the point +was that the candlestick by the bedside contained a box of safety +matches, and that, as the burned remains of one lay in the tray, it +appeared to have been used to light the candle. Then why the wax +match? +</p> + +<p> +While I was turning over this problem Foxton had corked the bottle, +wrapped it carefully in a piece of paper which he took from the +dressing table and bestowed it in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Jervis,” said he, “I think we’ve seen everything. The analysis +and the post-mortem will complete the case. Shall we go down and hear +what Mrs. Beddingfield has to say?” +</p> + +<p> +But that wax match, slight as was its significance, taken alone, had +presented itself to me as the last of a succession of phenomena each +of which was susceptible of a sinister interpretation, and the +cumulative effect of these slight suggestions began to impress me +somewhat strongly. +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, Foxton,” said I. “Don’t let us take anything for granted. +We are here to collect evidence, and we must go warily. There is such +a thing as homicidal poisoning, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course,” he replied, “but there is nothing to suggest it in +this case; at least, I see nothing. Do you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing very positive,” said I; “but there are some facts that seem +to call for consideration. Let us go over what we have seen. In the +first place, there is a distinct discrepancy in the appearance of the +body. The general easy, symmetrical posture, like that of a figure on +a tomb, suggests the effect of a slow, painless poison. But look at +the face. There is nothing reposeful about that. It is very strongly +suggestive of pain or terror or both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Foxton, “that is so. But you can’t draw any satisfactory +conclusions from the facial expression of dead bodies. Why, men who +have been hanged, or even stabbed, often look as peaceful as babes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” I urged, “it is a fact to be noted. Then there is that cut on +the lip. It may have been produced in the way you suggest; but it may +equally well be the result of pressure on the mouth.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton made no comment on this beyond a slight shrug of the shoulders, +and I continued: +</p> + +<p> +“Then there is the state of the hand. It was closed, but it did not +really grasp the object it contained. You drew the bottle out without +any resistance. It simply lay in the closed hand. But that is not a +normal state of affairs. As you know, when a person dies grasping any +object, either the hand relaxes and lets it drop, or the muscular +action passes into cadaveric spasm and grasps the object firmly. And +lastly, there is this wax match. Where did it come from? The dead +woman apparently lit her candle with a safety match from the box. It +is a small matter, but it wants explaining.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton raised his eyebrows protestingly. “You’re like all specialists, +Jervis,” said he. “You see your specialty in everything. And while you +are straining these flimsy suggestions to turn a simple suicide into +murder, you ignore the really conclusive fact that the door was bolted +and had to be broken open before any one could get in.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are not forgetting, I suppose,” said I, “that the window was wide +open and that there were house painters about and possibly a ladder +left standing against the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“As to the ladder,” said Foxton, “that is a pure assumption; but we +can easily settle the question by asking that fellow out there if it +was or was not left standing last night.” +</p> + +<p> +Simultaneously we moved towards the window; but half-way we both +stopped short. For the question of the ladder had in a moment become +negligible. Staring up at us from the dull red linoleum which covered +the floor were the impressions of a pair of bare feet, imprinted in +white paint with the distinctness of a woodcut. There was no need to +ask if they had been made by the dead woman: they were unmistakably +the feet of a man, and large feet at that. Nor could there be any +doubt as to whence those feet had come. Beginning with startling +distinctness under the window, the tracks diminished rapidly in +intensity until they reached the carpeted portion of the room, where +they vanished abruptly; and only by the closest scrutiny was it +possible to detect the faint traces of the retiring tracks. +</p> + +<p> +Foxton and I stood for some moments gazing in silence at the sinister +white shapes; then we looked at one another. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve saved me from a most horrible blunder, Jervis,” said Foxton. +“Ladder or no ladder, that fellow came in at the window; and he came +in last night, for I saw them painting these window-sills yesterday +afternoon. Which side did he come from, I wonder?” +</p> + +<p> +We moved to the window and looked out on the sill. A set of distinct, +though smeared impressions on the new paint gave unneeded confirmation +and showed that the intruder had approached from the left side, close +to which was a cast-iron stack-pipe, now covered with fresh green +paint. +</p> + +<p> +“So,” said Foxton, “the presence or absence of the ladder is of no +significance. The man got into the window somehow, and that’s all that +matters.” +</p> + +<p> +“On the contrary,” said I, “the point may be of considerable +importance in identification. It isn’t every one who could climb up a +stack-pipe, whereas most people could make shift to climb a ladder, +even if it were guarded by a plank. But the fact that the man took off +his boots and socks suggests that he came up by the pipe. If he had +merely aimed at silencing his foot-falls, he would probably have +removed his boots only.” +</p> + +<p> +From the window we turned to examine more closely the footprints on +the floor, and, while I took a series of measurements with my spring +tape, Foxton entered them in my notebook. +</p> + +<p> +“Doesn’t it strike you as rather odd, Jervis,” said he, “that neither +of the little toes has made any mark?” +</p> + +<p> +“It does indeed,” I replied. “The appearances suggest that the little +toes were absent, but I have never met with such a condition. Have +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never. Of course one is acquainted with the supernumerary toe +deformity, but I have never heard of congenitally deficient little +toes.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more we scrutinized the footprints, and even examined those on +the window-sill, obscurely marked on the fresh paint; but, exquisitely +distinct as were those on the linoleum, showing every wrinkle and +minute skin-marking, not the faintest hint of a little toe was to be +seen on either foot. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very extraordinary,” said Foxton. “He has certainly lost his +little toes, if he ever had any. They couldn’t have failed to make +some mark. But it’s a queer affair. Quite a windfall for the police, +by the way; I mean for purposes of identification.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I agreed, “and having regard to the importance of the +footprints, I think it would be wise to get a photograph of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the police will see to that,” said Foxton. “Besides, we haven’t +got a camera, unless you thought of using that little toy snapshotter +of yours.” +</p> + +<p> +As Foxton was no photographer I did not trouble to explain that my +camera, though small, had been specially made for scientific purposes. +</p> + +<p> +“Any photograph is better than none,” I said, and with this I opened +the tripod and set it over one of the most distinct of the footprints, +screwed the camera to the goose-neck, carefully framed the footprint +in the finder and adjusted the focus, finally making the exposure by +means of an Antinous release. This process I repeated four times, +twice on a right footprint and twice on a left. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” Foxton remarked, “with all those photographs the police ought +to be able to pick up the scent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, they’ve got something to go on; but they’ll have to catch their +hare before they can cook him. He won’t be walking about barefooted, +you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It’s a poor clue in that respect. And now we may as well be off +as we’ve seen all there is to see. I think we won’t have much to say +to Mrs. Beddingfield. This is a police case, and the less I’m mixed up +in it the better it will be for my practice.” +</p> + +<p> +I was faintly amused at Foxton’s caution when considered by the light +of his utterances at the breakfast table. Apparently his appetite for +mystery and romance was easily satisfied. But that was no affair of +mine. I waited on the doorstep while he said a few—probably +evasive—words to the landlady and then, as we started off together in +the direction of the police station, I began to turn over in my mind +the salient features of the case. For some time we walked on in +silence, and must have been pursuing a parallel train of thought for, +when he at length spoke, he almost put my reflections into words. +</p> + +<p> +“You know, Jervis,” said he, “there ought to be a clue in those +footprints. I realize that you can’t tell how many toes a man has by +looking at his booted feet. But those unusual footprints ought to give +an expert a hint as to what sort of man to look for. Don’t they convey +any hint to you?” +</p> + +<p> +I felt that Foxton was right; that if my brilliant colleague, +Thorndyke, had been in my place, he would have extracted from those +footprints some leading fact that would have given the police a start +along some definite line of inquiry; and that belief, coupled with +Foxton’s challenge, put me on my mettle. +</p> + +<p> +“They offer no particular suggestions to me at this moment,” said I, +“but I think that, if we consider them systematically, we may be able +to draw some useful deductions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Foxton, “then let us consider them systematically. +Fire away. I should like to hear how you work these things out.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton’s frankly spectatorial attitude was a little disconcerting, +especially as it seemed to commit me to a result that I was by no +means confident of attaining. I therefore began a little diffidently. +</p> + +<p> +“We are assuming that both the feet that made those prints were from +some cause devoid of little toes. That assumption—which is almost +certainly correct—we treat as a fact, and, taking it as our starting +point, the first step in the inquiry is to find some explanation of +it. Now there are three possibilities, and only three: deformity, +injury and disease. The toes may have been absent from birth, they may +have been lost as a result of mechanical injury, or they may have been +lost by disease. Let us take those possibilities in order. +</p> + +<p> +“Deformity we exclude since such a malformation is unknown to us. +</p> + +<p> +“Mechanical injury seems to be excluded by the fact that the two +little toes are on opposite sides of the body and could not +conceivably be affected by any violence which left the intervening +feet uninjured. This seems to narrow the possibilities down to +disease; and the question that arises is, What diseases are there +which might result in the loss of both little toes?” +</p> + +<p> +I looked inquiringly at Foxton, but he merely nodded encouragingly. +His rôle was that of listener. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I pursued, “the loss of both toes seems to exclude local +disease, just as it excluded local injury; and as to general diseases, +I can think only of three which might produce this +condition—Raynaud’s disease, ergotism, and frost-bite.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t call frost-bite a general disease, do you?” objected +Foxton. +</p> + +<p> +“For our present purpose, I do. The effects are local, but the +cause—low external temperature—affects the whole body and is a +general cause. Well, now, taking the diseases in order, I think we can +exclude Raynaud’s disease. It does, it is true, occasionally cause the +fingers or toes to die and drop off, and the little toes would be +especially liable to be affected as being most remote from the heart. +But in such a severe case the other toes would be affected. They would +be shrivelled and tapered, whereas, if you remember, the toes of these +feet were quite plump and full, to judge by the large impressions they +made. So I think we may safely reject Raynaud’s disease. There remain +ergotism and frost-bite; and the choice between them is just a +question of relative frequency. Frost-bite is more common; therefore +frost-bite is more probable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do they tend equally to affect the little toes?” asked Foxton. +</p> + +<p> +“As a matter of probability, yes. The poison of ergot acting from +within, and intense cold acting from without, contract the small +blood-vessels and arrest the circulation. The feet, being the most +distant parts of the body from the heart, are the first to feel the +effects; and the little toes, which are the most distant parts of the +feet, are the most susceptible of all.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton reflected awhile, and then remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“This is all very well, Jervis, but I don’t see that you are much +forrarder. This man has lost both his little toes, and on your +showing, the probabilities are that the loss was due either to chronic +ergot poisoning or to frost-bite, with a balance of probability in +favour of frost-bite. That’s all. No proof, no verification. Just the +law of probability applied to a particular case, which is always +unsatisfactory. He may have lost his toes in some totally different +way. But even if the probabilities work out correctly, I don’t see +what use your conclusions would be to the police. They wouldn’t tell +them what sort of man to look for.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a good deal of truth in Foxton’s objection. A man who has +suffered from ergotism or frost-bite is not externally different from +any other man. Still, we had not exhausted the case, as I ventured to +point out. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be premature, Foxton,” said I. “Let us pursue our argument a +little farther. We have established a probability that this unknown +man has suffered either from ergotism or frost-bite. That, as you say, +is of no use by itself; but supposing we can show that these +conditions tend to affect a particular class of persons, we shall have +established a fact that will indicate a line of investigation. And I +think we can. Let us take the case of ergotism first. +</p> + +<p> +“Now how is chronic ergot poisoning caused? Not by the medicinal use +of the drug, but by the consumption of the diseased rye in which ergot +occurs. It is therefore peculiar to countries in which rye is used +extensively as food. Those countries, broadly speaking, are the +countries of North Eastern Europe, and especially Russia and Poland. +</p> + +<p> +“Then take the case of frost-bite. Obviously the most likely person to +get frost-bitten is the inhabitant of a country with a cold climate. +The most rigorous climates inhabited by white people are North America +and North Eastern Europe, especially Russia and Poland. So you see, +the areas associated with ergotism and frost-bite overlap to some +extent. In fact they do more than overlap; for a person even slightly +affected by ergot would be specially liable to frost-bite, owing to +the impaired circulation. The conclusion is that, racially, in both +ergotism and frost-bite, the balance of probability is in favour of a +Russian, a Pole, or a Scandinavian. +</p> + +<p> +“Then in the case of frost-bite there is the occupation factor. What +class of men tend most to become frost-bitten? Well, beyond all doubt, +the greatest sufferers from frost-bite are sailors, especially those +on sailing ships, and, naturally, on ships trading to arctic and +sub-arctic countries. But the bulk of such sailing ships are those +engaged in the Baltic and Archangel trade; and the crews of those +ships are almost exclusively Scandinavians, Finns, Russians and Poles. +So that, again, the probabilities point to a native of North Eastern +Europe, and, taken as a whole, by the overlapping of factors, to a +Russian, a Pole, or a Scandinavian.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton smiled sardonically. “Very ingenious, Jervis,” said he. “Most +ingenious. As an academic statement of probabilities, quite excellent. +But for practical purposes absolutely useless. However, here we are at +the police station. I’ll just run in and give them the facts and then +go on to the coroner’s office.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I’d better not come in with you?” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, no,” he replied. “You see, you have no official connection with +the case, and they mightn’t like it. You’d better go and amuse +yourself while I get the morning’s visits done. We can talk things +over at lunch.” +</p> + +<p> +With this he disappeared into the police station, and I turned away +with a smile of grim amusement. Experience is apt to make us a trifle +uncharitable, and experience had taught me that those who are the most +scornful of academic reasoning are often not above retailing it with +some reticence as to its original authorship. I had a shrewd suspicion +that Foxton was at this very moment disgorging my despised “academic +statement of probabilities” to an admiring police-inspector. +</p> + +<p> +My way towards the sea lay through Ethelred Road, and I had traversed +about half its length and was approaching the house of the tragedy +when I observed Mrs. Beddingfield at the bay window. Evidently she +recognized me, for a few moments later she appeared in outdoor clothes +on the doorstep and advanced to meet me. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen the police?” she asked as we met. I replied that Dr. +Foxton was even now at the police station. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” she said, “it’s a dreadful affair; most unfortunate, too, just +at the beginning of the season. A scandal is absolute ruin to a +boarding-house. What do you think of the case? Will it be possible to +hush it up? Dr. Foxton said you were a lawyer, I think, Dr. Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I am a lawyer, but really I know nothing of the circumstances of +this case. Did I understand that there had been something in the +nature of a love affair?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—at least—well, perhaps I oughtn’t to have said that. But hadn’t +I better tell you the whole story?—that is, if I am not taking up too +much of your time.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should be interested to hear what led to the disaster,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” she said, “I will tell you all about it. Will you come +indoors, or shall I walk a little way with you?” +</p> + +<p> +As I suspected that the police were at that moment on their way to the +house, I chose the latter alternative and led her away seawards at a +pretty brisk pace. +</p> + +<p> +“Was this poor lady a widow?” I asked as we started up the street. +</p> + +<p> +“No, she wasn’t,” replied Mrs. Beddingfield, “and that was the +trouble. Her husband was abroad—at least, he had been, and he was +just coming home. A pretty home-coming it will be for him, poor man. +He is an officer in the civil police at Sierra Leone, but he hasn’t +been there long. He went there for his health.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! To Sierra Leone!” I exclaimed, for the “White Man’s Grave” +seemed a queer health resort. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. You see, Mr. Toussaint is a French Canadian, and it seems that +he has always been somewhat of a rolling stone. For some time he was +in the Klondike, but he suffered so much from the cold that he had to +come away. It injured his health very severely; I don’t quite know in +what way, but I do know that he was quite a cripple for a time. When +he got better he looked out for a post in a warm climate and +eventually obtained the appointment of Inspector of Civil Police at +Sierra Leone. That was about ten months ago, and when he sailed for +Africa his wife came to stay with me, and has been here ever since.” +</p> + +<p> +“And this love affair that you spoke of?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but I oughtn’t to have called it that. Let me explain what +happened. About three months ago a Swedish gentleman—a Mr. +Bergson—came to stay here, and he seemed to be very much smitten with +Mrs. Toussaint.” +</p> + +<p> +“And she?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, she liked him well enough. He is a tall, good-looking man—though +for that matter he is no taller than her husband, nor any better +looking. Both men are over six feet. But there was no harm so far as +she was concerned, excepting that she didn’t see the position quite +soon enough. She wasn’t very discreet, in fact I thought it necessary +to give her a little advice. However, Mr. Bergson left here and went +to live at Ramsgate to superintend the unloading of the ice ships (he +came from Sweden in one), and I thought the trouble was at an end. But +it wasn’t, for he took to coming over to see Mrs. Toussaint, and of +course I couldn’t have that. So at last I had to tell him that he +mustn’t come to the house again. It was very unfortunate, for on that +occasion I think he had been ‘tasting,’ as they say in Scotland. He +wasn’t drunk, but he was excitable and noisy, and when I told him he +mustn’t come again he made such a disturbance that two of the +gentlemen boarders—Mr. Wardale and Mr. Macauley—had to interfere. +And then he was most insulting to them, especially to Mr. Macauley, +who is a coloured gentleman; called him a ‘buck nigger’ and all sorts +of offensive names.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how did the coloured gentleman take it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not very well, I am sorry to say, considering that he is a +gentleman—a law student with chambers in the Temple. In fact, his +language was so objectionable that Mr. Wardale insisted on my giving +him notice on the spot. But I managed to get him taken in next door +but one; you see, Mr. Wardale had been a Commissioner at Sierra +Leone—it was through him that Mr. Toussaint got his appointment—so I +suppose he was rather on his dignity with coloured people.” +</p> + +<p> +“And was that the last you heard of Mr. Bergson?” +</p> + +<p> +“He never came here again, but he wrote several times to Mrs. +Toussaint, asking her to meet him. At last, only a few days ago, she +wrote to him and told him that the acquaintance must cease.” +</p> + +<p> +“And has it ceased?” +</p> + +<p> +“As far as I know, it has.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Mrs. Beddingfield,” said I, “what makes you connect the affair +with—with what has happened?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you see,” she explained, “there is the husband. He was coming +home, and is probably in England already.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she continued. “He went up into the bush to arrest some natives +belonging to one of these gangs of murderers—Leopard Societies, I +think they are called—and he got seriously wounded. He wrote to his +wife from hospital, saying that he would be sent home as soon as he +was fit to travel, and about ten days ago she got a letter from him +saying that he was coming by the next ship. +</p> + +<p> +“I noticed that she seemed very nervous and upset when she got the +letters from hospital, and still more so when the last letter came. Of +course, I don’t know what he said to her in those letters. It may be +that he had heard something about Mr. Bergson, and threatened to take +some action. Of course, I can’t say. I only know that she was very +nervous and restless, and when we saw in the paper four days ago that +the ship he would be coming by had arrived in Liverpool, she seemed +dreadfully upset. And she got worse and worse until—well, until last +night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has anything been heard of the husband since the ship arrived?” I +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing whatever,” replied Mrs. Beddingfield, with a meaning look at +me which I had no difficulty in interpreting. “No letter, no telegram, +not a word. And you see, if he hadn’t come by that ship he would +almost certainly have sent a letter by her. He must have arrived in +England, but why hasn’t he turned up, or at least sent a wire? What is +he doing? Why is he staying away? Can he have heard something? And +what does he mean to do? That’s what kept the poor thing on wires, and +that, I feel certain, is what drove her to make away with herself.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not my business to contest Mrs. Beddingfield’s erroneous +deductions. I was seeking information—it seemed that I had nearly +exhausted the present source. But one point required amplifying. +</p> + +<p> +“To return to Mr. Bergson, Mrs. Beddingfield,” said I. “Do I +understand that he is a seafaring man?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was,” she replied. “At present he is settled at Ramsgate as +manager of a company in the ice trade, but formerly he was a sailor. I +have heard him say that he was one of the crew of an exploring ship +that went in search of the North Pole and that he was locked up in the +ice for months and months. I should have thought he would have had +enough of ice after that.” +</p> + +<p> +With this view I expressed warm agreement, and having now obtained all +the information that appeared to be available, I proceeded to bring +the interview to an end. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Mrs. Beddingfield,” I said, “it is a rather mysterious affair. +Perhaps more light may be thrown on it at the inquest. Meanwhile, I +should think that it will be wise of you to keep your own counsel as +far as outsiders are concerned.” +</p> + +<p> +The remainder of the morning I spent pacing the smooth stretch of sand +that lies to the east of the jetty, and reflecting on the evidence +that I had acquired in respect of this singular crime. Evidently there +was no lack of clues in this case. On the contrary, there were two +quite obvious lines of inquiry, for both the Swede and the missing +husband presented the characters of the hypothetical murderer. Both +had been exposed to the conditions which tend to produce frost-bite; +one of them had probably been a consumer of rye meal, and both might +be said to have a motive—though, to be sure, it was a very +insufficient one—for committing the crime. Still, in both cases the +evidence was merely speculative; it suggested a line of investigation, +but it did nothing more. +</p> + +<p> +When I met Foxton at lunch I was sensible of a curious change in his +manner. His previous expansiveness had given place to marked reticence +and a certain official secretiveness. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think, you know, Jervis,” he said, when I opened the subject, +“that we had better discuss this affair. You see, I am the principal +witness, and while the case is <i>sub judice</i>—well, in fact the police +don’t want the case talked about.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely I am a witness, too, and an expert witness, moreover——” +</p> + +<p> +“That isn’t the view of the police. They look on you as more or less +of an amateur, and as you have no official connection with the case, I +don’t think they propose to subpœna you. Superintendent Platt, who is +in charge of the case, wasn’t very pleased at my having taken you to +the house. Said it was quite irregular. Oh, and by the way, he says +you must hand over those photographs.” +</p> + +<p> +“But isn’t Platt going to have the footprints photographed on his own +account?” I objected. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he is. He is going to have a set of proper photographs +taken by an expert photographer;—he was mightily amused when he heard +about your little snapshot affair. Oh, you can trust Platt. He is a +great man. He has had a course of instruction at the Finger Print +Department in London.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see how that is going to help him, as there aren’t any finger +prints in this case.” This was a mere fly-cast on my part, but Foxton +rose at once at the rather clumsy bait. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, aren’t there?” he exclaimed. “You didn’t happen to spot them, but +they were there. Platt has got the prints of a complete right hand. +This is in strict confidence, you know,” he added, with somewhat +belated caution. +</p> + +<p> +Foxton’s sudden reticence restrained me from uttering the obvious +comment on the superintendent’s achievement. I returned to the subject +of the photographs. +</p> + +<p> +“Supposing I decline to hand over my film?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“But I hope you won’t—and in fact you mustn’t. I am officially +connected with the case, and I’ve got to live with these people. As +the police-surgeon, I am responsible for the medical evidence, and +Platt expects me to get those photographs from you. Obviously you +can’t keep them. It would be most irregular.” +</p> + +<p> +It was useless to argue. Evidently the police did not want me to be +introduced into the case, and after all, the superintendent was within +his rights, if he chose to regard me as a private individual and to +demand the surrender of the film. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless I was loath to give up the photographs, at least, until I +had carefully studied them. The case was within my own specialty of +practice, and was a strange and interesting one. Moreover, it appeared +to be in unskilful hands, judging from the finger-print episode, and +then experience had taught me to treasure up small scraps of chance +evidence, since one never knew when one might be drawn into a case in +a professional capacity. In effect, I decided not to give up the +photographs, though that decision committed me to a ruse that I was +not very willing to adopt. I would rather have acted quite +straightforwardly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you insist, Foxton,” I said, “I will hand over the film or, +if you like, I will destroy it in your presence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think Platt would rather have the film uninjured,” said Foxton. +“Then he’ll know, you know,” he added, with a sly grin. +</p> + +<p> +In my heart, I thanked Foxton for that grin. It made my own guileful +proceedings so much easier; for a suspicious man invites you to get +the better of him if you can. +</p> + +<p> +After lunch I went up to my room, locked the door and took the little +camera from my pocket. Having fully wound up the film, I extracted it, +wrapped it up carefully and bestowed it in my inside breast-pocket. +Then I inserted a fresh film, and going to the open window, took four +successive snapshots of the sky. This done, I closed the camera, +slipped it into my pocket, and went downstairs. Foxton was in the +hall, brushing his hat, as I descended, and at once renewed his +demand. +</p> + +<p> +“About those photographs, Jervis,” said he, “I shall be looking in at +the police station presently, so if you wouldn’t mind——” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure,” said I. “I will give you the film now, if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +Taking the camera from my pocket, I solemnly wound up the remainder of +the film, extracted it, stuck down the loose end with ostentatious +care, and handed it to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Better not expose it to the light,” I said, going the whole hog of +deception, “or you may fog the exposures.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton took the spool from me as if it were hot—he was not a +photographer—and thrust it into his hand-bag. He was still thanking +me quite profusely when the front-door bell rang. +</p> + +<p> +The visitor who stood revealed when Foxton opened the door was a +small, spare gentleman with a complexion of the peculiar brown-papery +quality that suggests long residence in the Tropics. He stepped in +briskly and introduced himself and his business without preamble. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Wardale—boarder at Beddingfield’s. I’ve called with +reference to the tragic event which——” +</p> + +<p> +Here Foxton interposed in his frostiest official tone. “I am afraid, +Mr. Wardale, I can’t give you any information about the case at +present.” +</p> + +<p> +“I saw you two gentlemen at the house this morning,” Mr. Wardale +continued, but Foxton again cut him short. +</p> + +<p> +“You did. We were there—or at least, I was—as the representative of +the Law, and while the case is <i>sub judice</i>——” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t yet,” interrupted Wardale. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I can’t enter into any discussion of it——” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not asking you to,” said Wardale, a little impatiently. “But I +understand that one of you is Dr. Jervis.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“I must really warn you,” Foxton began again; but Mr. Wardale +interrupted testily: +</p> + +<p> +“My dear sir, I am a lawyer and a magistrate and understand perfectly +well what is and what is not permissible. I have come simply to make a +professional engagement with Dr. Jervis.” +</p> + +<p> +“In what way can I be of service to you?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you,” said Mr. Wardale. “This poor lady, whose death has +occurred in so mysterious a manner, was the wife of a man who was, +like myself, a servant of the Government of Sierra Leone. I was the +friend of both of them; and in the absence of the husband, I should +like to have the inquiry into the circumstances of this lady’s death +watched by a competent lawyer with the necessary special knowledge of +medical evidence. Will you or your colleague, Dr. Thorndyke, undertake +to watch the case for me?” +</p> + +<p> +Of course I was willing to undertake the case and said so. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Mr. Wardale, “I will instruct my solicitor to write to +you and formally retain you in the case. Here is my card. You will +find my name in the Colonial Office List, and you know my address +here.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed me his card, wished us both good afternoon, and then, with a +stiff little bow, turned and took his departure. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I had better run up to town and confer with Thorndyke,” said +I. “How do the trains run?” +</p> + +<p> +“There is a good train in about three-quarters of an hour,” replied +Foxton. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will go by it, but I shall come down again to-morrow or the +next day, and probably Thorndyke will come down with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Foxton. “Bring him in to lunch or dinner, but I +can’t put him up, I am afraid.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be better not,” said I. “Your friend, Platt, wouldn’t like +it. He won’t want Thorndyke—or me either for that matter. And what +about those photographs? Thorndyke will want them, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“He can’t have them,” said Foxton doggedly, “unless Platt is willing +to hand them back; which I don’t suppose he will be.” +</p> + +<p> +I had private reasons for thinking otherwise, but I kept them to +myself; and as Foxton went forth on his afternoon round, I returned +upstairs to pack my suit-case and write the telegram to Thorndyke +informing him of my movements. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +It was only a quarter past five when I let myself into our chambers in +King’s Bench Walk. To my relief I found my colleague at home and our +laboratory assistant, Polton, in the act of laying tea for two. +</p> + +<p> +“I gather,” said Thorndyke, as we shook hands, “that my learned +brother brings grist to the mill?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I replied. “Nominally a watching brief, but I think you will +agree with me that it is a case for independent investigation.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will there be anything in my line, sir?” inquired Polton, who was +always agog at the word “investigation.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is a film to be developed. Four exposures of white footprints +on a dark ground.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said Polton, “you’ll want good strong negatives and they ought +to be enlarged if they are from the little camera. Can you give me the +dimensions?” +</p> + +<p> +I wrote out the measurements from my notebook and handed him the paper +together with the spool of film, with which he retired gleefully to +the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, “while Polton is operating on the +film and we are discussing our tea, let us have a sketch of the case.” +</p> + +<p> +I gave him more than a sketch, for the events were recent and I had +carefully sorted out the facts during my journey to town, making rough +notes which I now consulted. To my rather lengthy recital he listened +in his usual attentive manner, without any comment, excepting in +regard to my manœuvre to retain possession of the exposed film. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s almost a pity you didn’t refuse,” said he. “They could hardly +have enforced their demand, and my feeling is that it is more +convenient as well as more dignified to avoid direct deception unless +one is driven to it. But perhaps you considered that you were.” +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact I had at the time, but I had since come to +Thorndyke’s opinion. My little manœuvre was going to be a source of +inconvenience presently. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, when I had finished my recital, “I think we +may take it that the police theory is, in the main, your own theory +derived from Foxton.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think so, excepting that I learned from Foxton that Superintendent +Platt has obtained the complete finger-prints of a right hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke raised his eyebrows. “Finger-prints!” he exclaimed. “Why the +fellow must be a mere simpleton. But there,” he added, +“everybody—police, lawyers, judges, even Galton himself—seems to +lose every vestige of common sense as soon as the subject of +finger-prints is raised. But it would be interesting to know how he +got them and what they are like. We must try to find that out. +However, to return to your case, since your theory and the police +theory are probably the same, we may as well consider the value of +your inferences. +</p> + +<p> +“At present we are dealing with the case in the abstract. Our data are +largely assumptions, and our inferences are largely derived from an +application of the mathematical laws of probability. Thus we assume +that a murder has been committed, whereas it may turn out to have been +suicide. We assume the murder to have been committed by the person who +made the footprints, and we assume that that person has no little +toes, whereas he may have retracted little toes which do not touch the +ground and so leave no impression. Assuming the little toes to be +absent, we account for their absence by considering known causes in +the order of their probability. Excluding—quite properly, I +think—Raynaud’s disease, we arrive at frost-bite and ergotism. But +two persons, both of whom are of a stature corresponding to the size +of the footprints, may have had a motive—though a very inadequate +one—for committing the crime, and both have been exposed to the +conditions which tend to produce frost-bite, while one of them has +probably been exposed to the conditions which tend to produce +ergotism. The laws of probability point to both of these two men; and +the chances in favour of the Swede being the murderer rather than the +Canadian would be represented by the common +factor—frost-bite—multiplied by the additional factor, ergotism. But +this is purely speculative at present. There is no evidence that +either man has ever been frost-bitten or has ever eaten spurred rye. +Nevertheless, it is a perfectly sound method at this stage. It +indicates a line of investigation. If it should transpire that either +man has suffered from frost-bite or ergotism, a definite advance would +have been made. But here is Polton with a couple of finished prints. +How on earth did you manage it in the time, Polton?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, you see, sir, I just dried the film with spirit,” replied +Polton. “It saves a lot of time. I will let you have a pair of +enlargements in about a quarter of an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +Handing us the two wet prints, each stuck on a glass plate, he retired +to the laboratory, and Thorndyke and I proceeded to scrutinize the +photographs with the aid of our pocket lenses. The promised +enlargements were really hardly necessary excepting for the purpose of +comparative measurements, for the image of the white footprint, fully +two inches long, was so microscopically sharp that, with the +assistance of the lens, the minutest detail could be clearly seen. +</p> + +<p> +“There is certainly not a vestige of little toe,” remarked Thorndyke, +“and the plump appearance of the other toes supports your rejection of +Raynaud’s disease. Does the character of the footprint convey any +other suggestion to you, Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +“It gives me the impression that the man had been accustomed to go +bare-footed in early life and had only taken to boots comparatively +recently. The position of the great toe suggests this, and the +presence of a number of small scars on the toes and ball of the foot +seems to confirm it. A person walking barefoot would sustain +innumerable small wounds from treading on small, sharp objects.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked dissatisfied. “I agree with you,” he said, “as to the +suggestion offered by the undeformed state of the great toes; but +those little pits do not convey to me the impression of scars +produced, as you suggest. Still, you may be right.” +</p> + +<p> +Here our conversation was interrupted by a knock on the outer oak. +Thorndyke stepped out through the lobby and I heard him open the door. +A moment or two later he re-entered, accompanied by a short, +brown-faced gentleman whom I instantly recognized as Mr. Wardale. +</p> + +<p> +“I must have come up by the same train as you,” he remarked, as we +shook hands, “and to a certain extent, I suspect, on the same errand. +I thought I would like to put our arrangement on a business footing, +as I am a stranger to both of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want us to do?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to watch the case, and, if necessary, to look into the +facts independently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you give us any information that may help us?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Wardale reflected. “I don’t think I can,” he said at length. “I +have no facts that you have not, and any surmises of mine might be +misleading. I had rather you kept an open mind. But perhaps we might +go into the question of costs.” +</p> + +<p> +This, of course, was somewhat difficult, but Thorndyke contrived to +indicate the probable liabilities involved to Mr. Wardale’s +satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“There is one other little matter,” said Wardale as he rose to depart. +“I have got a suit-case here which Mrs. Beddingfield lent me to bring +some things up to town. It is one that Mr. Macauley left behind when +he went away from the boarding-house. Mrs. Beddingfield suggested that +I might leave it at his chambers when I had finished with it; but I +don’t know his address, excepting that it is somewhere in the Temple, +and I don’t want to meet the fellow if he should happen to have come +up to town.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it empty?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Excepting for a suit of pyjamas and a pair of shocking old slippers.” +He opened the suit-case as he spoke and exhibited its contents with a +grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Characteristic of a negro, isn’t it? Pink silk pyjamas and slippers +about three sizes too small.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “I will get my man to find out the +address and leave it there.” +</p> + +<p> +As Mr. Wardale went out, Polton entered with the enlarged photographs, +which showed the footprints the natural size. Thorndyke handed them to +me, and as I sat down to examine them he followed his assistant to the +laboratory. He returned in a few minutes, and after a brief inspection +of the photographs, remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“They show us nothing more than we have seen, though they may be +useful later. So your stock of facts is all we have to go on at +present. Are you going home to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I shall go back to Margate to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, as I have to call at Scotland Yard, we may as well walk to +Charing Cross together.” +</p> + +<p> +As we walked down the Strand we gossiped on general topics, but before +we separated at Charing Cross, Thorndyke reverted to the case. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me know the date of the inquest,” said he, “and try to find out +what the poison was—if it was really a poison.” +</p> + +<p> +“The liquid that was left in the bottle seemed to be a watery solution +of some kind,” said I, “as I think I mentioned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Thorndyke. “Possibly a watery infusion of strophanthus.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why strophanthus?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” demanded Thorndyke. And with this and an inscrutable smile, +he turned and walked down Whitehall. +</p> + +<p class="mt1"> +Three days later I found myself at Margate sitting beside Thorndyke in +a room adjoining the Town Hall, in which the inquest on the death of +Mrs. Toussaint was to be held. Already the coroner was in his chair, +the jury were in their seats and the witnesses assembled in a group of +chairs apart. These included Foxton, a stranger who sat by +him—presumably the other medical witness—Mrs. Beddingfield, Mr. +Wardale, the police superintendent and a well-dressed coloured man, +whom I correctly assumed to be Mr. Macauley. +</p> + +<p> +As I sat by my rather sphinx-like colleague my mind recurred for the +hundredth time to his extraordinary powers of mental synthesis. That +parting remark of his as to the possible nature of the poison had +brought home to me in a flash the fact that he already had a definite +theory of this crime, and that his theory was not mine nor that of the +police. True, the poison might not be strophanthus, after all, but +that would not alter the position. He had a theory of the crime, but +yet he was in possession of no facts excepting those with which I had +supplied him. Therefore those facts contained the material for a +theory, whereas I had deduced from them nothing but the bald, +ambiguous mathematical probabilities. +</p> + +<p> +The first witness called was naturally Dr. Foxton, who described the +circumstances already known to me. He further stated that he had been +present at the autopsy, that he had found on the throat and limbs of +the deceased, bruises that suggested a struggle and violent restraint. +The immediate cause of death was heart failure, but whether that +failure was due to shock, terror, or the action of a poison he could +not positively say. +</p> + +<p> +The next witness was a Dr. Prescott, an expert pathologist and +toxicologist. He had made the autopsy and agreed with Dr. Foxton as to +the cause of death. He had examined the liquid contained in the bottle +taken from the hand of the deceased and found it to be a watery +infusion or decoction of strophanthus seeds. He had analyzed the fluid +contained in the stomach and found it to consist largely of the same +infusion. +</p> + +<p> +“Is infusion of strophanthus seeds used in medicine?” the coroner +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” was the reply. “The tincture is the form in which strophanthus +is administered unless it is given in the form of strophanthin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you consider that the strophanthus caused, or contributed to +death?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is difficult to say,” replied Dr. Prescott. “Strophanthus is a +heart poison, and there was a very large poisonous dose. But very +little had been absorbed, and the appearances were not inconsistent +with death from shock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could death have been self-produced by the voluntary taking of the +poison?” asked the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“I should say, decidedly not. Dr. Foxton’s evidence shows that the +bottle was almost certainly placed in the hands of the deceased after +death, and this is in complete agreement with the enormous dose and +small absorption.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you say that appearances point to suicidal or homicidal +poisoning?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say that they point to homicidal poisoning, but that death +was probably due mainly to shock.” +</p> + +<p> +This concluded the expert’s evidence. It was followed by that of Mrs. +Beddingfield, which brought out nothing new to me but the fact that a +trunk had been broken open and a small attaché case belonging to the +deceased abstracted and taken away. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know what the deceased kept in that case?” the coroner asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I have seen her put her husband’s letters into it. She had quite a +number of them. I don’t know what else she kept in it except, of +course, her cheque book.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had she any considerable balance at the bank?” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe she had. Her husband used to send most of his pay home and +she used to pay it in and leave it with the bank. She might have two +or three hundred pounds to her credit.” +</p> + +<p> +As Mrs. Beddingfield concluded, Mr. Wardale was called, and he was +followed by Mr. Macauley. The evidence of both was quite brief and +concerned entirely with the disturbance made by Bergson, whose absence +from the court I had already noted. +</p> + +<p> +The last witness was the police superintendent, and he, as I had +expected, was decidedly reticent. He did refer to the footprints but, +like Foxton—who presumably had his instructions—he abstained from +describing their peculiarities. Nor did he say anything about +finger-prints. As to the identity of the criminal, that had to be +further inquired into. Suspicion had at first fastened upon Bergson, +but it had since transpired that the Swede sailed from Ramsgate on an +ice-ship two days before the occurrence of the tragedy. Then suspicion +had pointed to the husband, who was known to have landed at Liverpool +four days before the death of his wife and who had mysteriously +disappeared. But he (the superintendent) had only that morning +received a telegram from the Liverpool police informing him that the +body of Toussaint had been found floating in the Mersey, and that it +bore a number of wounds of an apparently homicidal character. +Apparently he had been murdered and his corpse thrown into the river. +</p> + +<p> +“This is very terrible,” said the coroner. “Does this second murder +throw any light on the case which we are investigating?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think it does,” replied the officer, without any great conviction, +however, “but it is not advisable to go into details.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” agreed the coroner. “Most inexpedient. But are we to +understand that you have a clue to the perpetrator of this +crime—assuming a crime to have been committed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Platt. “We have several important clues.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do they point to any particular individual?” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent hesitated. “Well—” he began, with some +embarrassment, but the coroner interrupted him. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps the question is indiscreet. We mustn’t hamper the police, +gentlemen, and the point is not really material to our inquiry. You +would rather we waived that question, Superintendent?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you please, sir,” was the emphatic reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Have any cheques from the deceased woman’s cheque-book been presented +at the bank?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not since her death. I inquired at the bank only this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +This concluded the evidence, and after a brief but capable summing-up +by the coroner, the jury returned a verdict of “wilful murder against +some person unknown.” +</p> + +<p> +As the proceedings terminated, Thorndyke rose and turned round, and +then to my surprise I perceived Superintendent Miller, of the Criminal +Investigation Department, who had come in unperceived by me and was +sitting immediately behind us. +</p> + +<p> +“I have followed your instructions, sir,” said he, addressing +Thorndyke, “but before we take any definite action I should like to +have a few words with you.” +</p> + +<p> +He led the way to an adjoining room and, as we entered, we were +followed by Superintendent Platt and Dr. Foxton. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Doctor,” said Miller, carefully closing the door, “I have +carried out your suggestions. Mr. Macauley is being detained, but +before we commit ourselves to an arrest, we must have something to go +upon. I shall want you to make out a prima facie case.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Thorndyke, laying upon the table the small, green +suit-case that was his almost invariable companion. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve seen that prima facie case before,” Miller remarked with a grin, +as Thorndyke unlocked it and drew out a large envelope. “Now, what +have you got there?” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke extracted from the envelope Polton’s enlargements of my +small photographs, Platt’s eyes appeared to bulge, while Foxton gave +me a quick glance of reproach. +</p> + +<p> +“These,” said Thorndyke, “are the full-sized photographs of the +footprints of the suspected murderer. Superintendent Platt can +probably verify them.” +</p> + +<p> +Rather reluctantly Platt produced from his pocket a pair of +whole-plate photographs, which he laid beside the enlargements. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Miller, after comparing them, “they are the same +footprints. But you say, Doctor, that they are Macauley’s footprints. +Now, what evidence have you?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke again had recourse to the green case, from which he produced +two copper plates mounted on wood and coated with printing ink. +</p> + +<p> +“I propose,” said he, lifting the plates out of their protecting +frame, “that we take prints of Macauley’s feet and compare them with +the photographs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Platt. “And then there are the finger-prints that we’ve +got. We can test those, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t want finger-prints if you’ve got a set of toe-prints,” +objected Miller. +</p> + +<p> +“With regard to those finger-prints,” said Thorndyke. “May I ask if +they were obtained from the bottle?” +</p> + +<p> +“They were,” Platt admitted. +</p> + +<p> +“And were there any other finger-prints?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Platt. “These were the only ones.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he laid on the table a photograph showing the prints of +the thumb and fingers of a right hand. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke glanced at the photograph and, turning to Miller, said: +</p> + +<p> +“I suggest that those are Dr. Foxton’s finger-prints.” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible!” exclaimed Platt, and then suddenly fell silent. +</p> + +<p> +“We can soon see,” said Thorndyke, producing from the case a pad of +white paper. “If Dr. Foxton will lay the finger-tips of his right hand +first on this inked plate and then on the paper, we can compare the +prints with the photograph.” +</p> + +<p> +Foxton placed his fingers on the blackened plate and then pressed them +on the paper pad, leaving on the latter four beautifully clear, black +finger-prints. These Superintendent Platt scrutinized eagerly, and as +his glance travelled from the prints to the photographs, he broke into +a sheepish grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Sold again!” he muttered. “They are the same prints.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Miller in a tone of disgust, “you must have been a mug +not to have thought of that when you knew that Dr. Foxton had handled +the bottle.” +</p> + +<p> +“The fact, however, is important,” said Thorndyke. “The absence of any +finger-prints but Dr. Foxton’s not only suggests that the murderer +took the precaution to wear gloves, but especially it proves that the +bottle was not handled by the deceased during life. A suicide’s hands +will usually be pretty moist and would leave conspicuous, if not very +clear, impressions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Miller, “that is quite true. But with regard to these +footprints. We can’t compel this man to let us examine his feet +without arresting him. Don’t think, Dr. Thorndyke, that I suspect you +of guessing. I’ve known you too long for that. You’ve got your facts +all right, I don’t doubt, but you must let us have enough to justify +our arrest.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke’s answer was to plunge once more into the inexhaustible +green case, from which he now produced two objects wrapped in tissue +paper. The paper being removed, there was revealed what looked like a +model of an excessively shabby pair of brown shoes. +</p> + +<p> +“These,” said Thorndyke, exhibiting the “models” to Superintendent +Miller—who viewed them with an undisguised grin—“are plaster casts +of the interiors of a pair of slippers—very old and much too +tight—belonging to Mr. Macauley. His name was written inside them. +The casts have been waxed and painted with raw umber, which has been +lightly rubbed off, thus accentuating the prominences and depressions. +You will notice that the impressions of the toes on the soles and of +the ‘knuckles’ on the uppers appear as prominences; in fact we have in +these casts a sketchy reproduction of the actual feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, first as to dimensions. Dr. Jervis’s measurements of the +footprints give us ten inches and three-quarters as the extreme length +and four inches and five-eighths as the extreme width at the heads of +the metatarsus. On these casts, as you see, the extreme length is ten +inches and five-eighths—the loss of one-eighth being accounted for by +the curve of the sole—and the extreme width is four inches and a +quarter—three-eighths being accounted for by the lateral compression +of a tight slipper. The agreement of the dimensions is remarkable, +considering the unusual size. And now as to the peculiarities of the +feet. You notice that each toe has made a perfectly distinct +impression on the sole, excepting the little toe, of which there is no +trace in either cast. And, turning to the uppers, you notice that the +knuckles of the toes appear quite distinct and prominent—again +excepting the little toes, which have made no impression at all. Thus +it is not a case of retracted little toes, for they would appear as an +extra prominence. Then, looking at the feet as a whole, it is evident +that the little toes are absent; there is a distinct hollow where +there should be a prominence.” +</p> + +<p> +“M’yes,” said Miller dubiously, “it’s all very neat. But isn’t it just +a bit speculative?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come, Miller,” protested Thorndyke; “just consider the facts. +Here is a suspected murderer known to have feet of an unusual size and +presenting a very rare deformity; and here are a pair of feet of that +same unusual size and presenting that same rare deformity; and they +are the feet of a man who had actually lived in the same house as the +murdered woman and who, at the date of the crime, was living only two +doors away. What more would you have?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there is the question of motive,” objected Miller. +</p> + +<p> +“That hardly belongs to a prima facie case,” said Thorndyke. “But even +if it did, is there not ample matter for suspicion? Remember who the +murdered woman was, what her husband was, and who this Sierra Leone +gentleman is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes; that’s true,” said Miller somewhat hastily, either +perceiving the drift of Thorndyke’s argument (which I did not), or +being unwilling to admit that he was still in the dark. “Yes, we’ll +have the fellow in and get his actual footprints.” +</p> + +<p> +He went to the door and, putting his head out, made some sign, which +was almost immediately followed by a trampling of feet, and Macauley +entered the room, followed by two large plain-clothes policemen. The +negro was evidently alarmed, for he looked about him with the wild +expression of a hunted animal. But his manner was aggressive and +truculent. +</p> + +<p> +“Why am I being interfered with in this impertinent manner?” he +demanded in the deep, buzzing voice characteristic of the male negro. +</p> + +<p> +“We want to have a look at your feet, Mr. Macauley,” said Miller. +“Will you kindly take off your shoes and socks?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” roared Macauley. “I’ll see you damned first.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Miller, “I arrest you on a charge of having murdered——” +</p> + +<p> +The rest of the sentence was drowned in a sudden uproar. The tall, +powerful negro, bellowing like an angry bull, had whipped out a large, +strangely shaped knife and charged furiously at the Superintendent. +But the two plain-clothes men had been watching him from behind and +now sprang upon him, each seizing an arm. Two sharp, metallic clicks +in quick succession, a thunderous crash and an ear-splitting yell, and +the formidable barbarian lay prostrate on the floor with one massive +constable sitting astride his chest and the other seated on his knees. +</p> + +<p> +“Now’s your chance, Doctor,” said Miller. “I’ll get his shoes and +socks off.” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke re-inked his plates, Miller and the local superintendent +expertly removed the smart patent shoes and the green silk socks from +the feet of the writhing, bellowing negro. Then Thorndyke rapidly and +skilfully applied the inked plates to the soles of the feet—which I +steadied for the purpose—and followed up with a dexterous pressure of +the paper pad, first to one foot and then—having torn off the printed +sheet—to the other. In spite of the difficulties occasioned by +Macauley’s struggles, each sheet presented a perfectly clear and sharp +print of the sole of the foot, even the ridge-patterns of the toes and +ball of the foot being quite distinct. Thorndyke laid each of the new +prints on the table beside the corresponding large photograph, and +invited the two superintendents to compare them. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Miller—and Superintendent Platt nodded his +acquiescence—“there can’t be a shadow of a doubt. The ink-prints and +the photographs are identical, to every line and skin-marking. You’ve +made out your case, Doctor, as you always do.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“So you see,” said Thorndyke, as we smoked our evening pipes on the +old stone pier, “your method was a perfectly sound one, only you +didn’t apply it properly. Like too many mathematicians, you started on +your calculations before you had secured your data. If you had applied +the simple laws of probability to the real data, they would have +pointed straight to Macauley.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you suppose he lost his little toes?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose at all. Obviously it was a case of double ainhum.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ainhum!” I exclaimed with a sudden flash of recollection. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; that was what you overlooked. You compared the probabilities of +three diseases either of which only very rarely causes the loss of +even one little toe and infinitely rarely causes the loss of both, and +none of which conditions is confined to any definite class of persons; +and you ignored ainhum, a disease which attacks almost exclusively the +little toe, causing it to drop off, and quite commonly destroys both +little toes—a disease, moreover, which is confined to the +black-skinned races. In European practice ainhum is unknown, but in +Africa, and to a less extent, in India, it is quite common. If you +were to assemble all the men in the world who have lost both little +toes, more than nine-tenths of them would be suffering from ainhum; so +that, by the laws of probability, your footprints were, by nine +chances to one, those of a man who had suffered from ainhum, and +therefore a black-skinned man. But as soon as you had established a +black man as the probable criminal, you opened up a new field of +corroborative evidence. There was a black man on the spot. That man +was a native of Sierra Leone and almost certainly a man of importance +there. But the victim’s husband had deadly enemies in the native +secret societies of Sierra Leone. The letters of the husband to the +wife probably contained matter incriminating certain natives of Sierra +Leone. The evidence became cumulative, you see. Taken as a whole, it +pointed plainly to Macauley, apart from the new fact of the murder of +Toussaint in Liverpool, a city with a considerable floating population +of West Africans.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I gather from your reference to the African poison, strophanthus, +that you fixed on Macauley at once when I gave you my sketch of the +case?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; especially when I saw your photographs of the footprints with +the absent little toes and those characteristic chigger-scars on the +toes that remained. But it was sheer luck that enabled me to fit the +key-stone into its place and turn mere probability into virtual +certainty. I could have embraced the magician Wardale when he brought +us the magic slippers. Still, it isn’t an absolute certainty, even +now, though I expect it will be by to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +And Thorndyke was right. That very evening the police entered +Macauley’s chambers in Tanfield Court, where they discovered the dead +woman’s attaché case. It still contained Toussaint’s letters to his +wife, and one of those letters mentioned by name, as members of a +dangerous secret society, several prominent Sierra Leone men, +including the accused David Macauley. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch03"> +III.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE NEW JERSEY SPHINX</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">A rather</span> curious neighbourhood this, Jervis,” my friend Thorndyke +remarked as we turned into Upper Bedford Place; “a sort of temporary +aviary for cosmopolitan birds of passage, especially those of the +Oriental variety. The Asiatic and African faces that one sees at the +windows of these Bloomsbury boarding-houses almost suggest an overflow +from the ethnographical galleries of the adjacent British Museum.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I agreed, “there must be quite a considerable population of +Africans, Japanese and Hindus in Bloomsbury; particularly Hindus.” +</p> + +<p> +As I spoke, and as if in illustration of my statement, a dark-skinned +man rushed out of one of the houses farther down the street and began +to advance towards us in a rapid, bewildered fashion, stopping to look +at each street door as he came to it. His hatless condition—though he +was exceedingly well dressed—and his agitated manner immediately +attracted my attention, and Thorndyke’s too, for the latter remarked, +“Our friend seems to be in trouble. An accident, perhaps, or a case of +sudden illness.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the stranger, observing our approach, ran forward to meet us and +asked in an agitated tone, “Can you tell me, please, where I can find +a doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a medical man,” replied Thorndyke, “and so is my friend.” +</p> + +<p> +Our acquaintance grasped Thorndyke’s sleeve and exclaimed eagerly: +</p> + +<p> +“Come with me, then, quickly if you please. A most dreadful thing has +happened.” +</p> + +<p> +He hurried us along at something between a trot and a quick walk, and +as we proceeded he continued excitedly, “I am quite confused and +terrified; it is all so strange and sudden and terrible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Try,” said Thorndyke, “to calm yourself a little and tell us what has +happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will,” was the agitated reply. “It is my cousin, Dinanath +Byramji—his surname is the same as mine. Just now I went to his room +and was horrified to find him lying on the floor, staring at the +ceiling and blowing—like this,” and he puffed out his cheeks with a +soft blowing noise. “I spoke to him and shook his hand, but he was +like a dead man. This is the house.” +</p> + +<p> +He darted up the steps to an open door at which a rather scared +page-boy was on guard, and running along the hall, rapidly ascended +the stairs. Following him closely, we reached a rather dark +first-floor landing where, at a half-open door, a servant-maid stood +listening with an expression of awe to a rhythmical snoring sound that +issued from the room. +</p> + +<p> +The unconscious man lay as Mr. Byramji had said, staring fixedly at +the ceiling with wide-open, glazy eyes, puffing out his cheeks +slightly at each breath. But the breathing was shallow and slow, and +it grew perceptibly slower, with lengthening pauses. And even as I was +timing it with my watch while Thorndyke examined the pupils with the +aid of a wax match, it stopped. I laid my finger on the wrist and +caught one or two slow, flickering beats. Then the pulse stopped too. +</p> + +<p> +“He is gone,” said I. “He must have burst one of the large arteries.” +</p> + +<p> +“Apparently,” said Thorndyke, “though one would not have expected it +at his age. But wait! What is this?” +</p> + +<p> +He pointed to the right ear, in the hollow of which a few drops of +blood had collected, and as he spoke he drew his hand gently over the +dead man’s head and moved it slightly from side to side. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a fracture of the base of the skull,” said he, “and quite +distinct signs of contusion of the scalp.” He turned to Mr. Byramji, +who stood wringing his hands and gazing incredulously at the dead man, +and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Can you throw any light on this?” +</p> + +<p> +The Indian looked at him vacantly. The sudden tragedy seemed to have +paralyzed his brain. “I don’t understand,” said he. “What does it +mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“It means,” replied Thorndyke, “that he has received a heavy blow on +the head.” +</p> + +<p> +For a few moments Mr. Byramji continued to stare vacantly at my +colleague. Then he seemed suddenly to realize the import of +Thorndyke’s reply, for he started up excitedly and turned to the door, +outside which the two servants were hovering. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the person gone who came in with my cousin?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“You saw him go out, Albert,” said the maid. “Tell Mr. Byramji where +he went to.” +</p> + +<p> +The page tiptoed into the room with a fearful eye fixed on the corpse, +and replied falteringly, “I only see the back of him as he went out, +and all I know is that he turned to the left. P’raps he’s gone for a +doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you give us any description of him?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“I only see the back of him,” repeated the page. “He was a shortish +gentleman and he had on a dark suit of clothes and a hard felt hat. +That’s all I know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Thorndyke. “We may want to ask you some more +questions presently,” and having conducted the page to the door, he +shut it and turned to Mr. Byramji. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any idea who it was that was with your cousin?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“None at all,” was the reply. “I was sitting in my room opposite, +writing, when I heard my cousin come up the stairs with another +person, to whom he was talking. I could not hear what he was saying. +They went into his room—this room—and I could occasionally catch the +sound of their voices. In about a quarter of an hour I heard the door +open and shut, and then some one went downstairs, softly and rather +quickly. I finished the letter that I was writing, and when I had +addressed it I came in here to ask my cousin who the visitor was. I +thought it might be some one who had come to negotiate for the ruby.” +</p> + +<p> +“The ruby!” exclaimed Thorndyke. “What ruby do you refer to?” +</p> + +<p> +“The great ruby,” replied Byramji. “But of course you have not——” He +broke off suddenly and stood for a few moments staring at Thorndyke +with parted lips and wide-open eyes; then abruptly he turned, and +kneeling beside the dead man he began, in a curious, caressing, +half-apologetic manner, first to pass his hand gently over the body at +the waist and then to unfasten the clothes. This brought into view a +handsome, soft leather belt, evidently of native workmanship, worn +next to the skin and furnished with three pockets. Mr. Byramji +unbuttoned and explored them in quick succession, and it was evident +that they were all empty. +</p> + +<p> +“It is gone!” he exclaimed in low, intense tones. “Gone! Ah! But how +little would it signify! But thou, dear Dinanath, my brother, my +friend, thou art gone, too!” +</p> + +<p> +He lifted the dead man’s hand and pressed it to his cheek, murmuring +endearments in his own tongue. Presently he laid it down reverently, +and sprang up, and I was startled at the change in his aspect. The +delicate, gentle, refined face had suddenly become the face of a +Fury—fierce, sinister, vindictive. +</p> + +<p> +“This wretch must die!” he exclaimed huskily. “This sordid brute who, +without compunction, has crushed out a precious life as one would +carelessly crush a fly, for the sake of a paltry crystal—he must die, +if I have to follow him and strangle him with my own hands!” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke laid his hand on Byramji’s shoulder. “I sympathize with you +most cordially,” said he. “If it is as you think, and appearances +suggest, that your cousin has been murdered as a mere incident of +robbery, the murderer’s life is forfeit, and Justice cries aloud for +retribution. The fact of murder will be determined, for or against, by +a proper inquiry. Meanwhile we have to ascertain who this unknown man +is and what happened while he was with your cousin.” +</p> + +<p> +Byramji made a gesture of despair. “But the man has disappeared, and +nobody has seen him! What can we do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us look around us,” replied Thorndyke, “and see if we can judge +what has happened in this room. What, for instance, is this?” +</p> + +<p> +He picked up from a corner near the door a small leather object, which +he handed to Mr. Byramji. The Indian seized it eagerly, exclaiming: +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! It is the little bag in which my cousin used to carry the ruby. +So he had taken it from his belt.” +</p> + +<p> +“It hasn’t been dropped, by any chance?” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +In an instant Mr. Byramji was down on his knees, peering and groping +about the floor, and Thorndyke and I joined in the search. But, as +might have been expected, there was no sign of the ruby, nor, indeed, +of anything else, excepting a hat which I picked up from under the +table. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Mr. Byramji, rising with a dejected air. “It is gone—of +course it is gone, and the murderous villain——” +</p> + +<p> +Here his glance fell on the hat, which I had laid on the table, and he +bent forward to look at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Whose hat is this?” he demanded, glancing at the chair on which +Thorndyke’s hat and mine had been placed. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it not your cousin’s?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“No, certainly not. His hat was like mine—we bought them both +together. It had a white silk lining with his initials, D.B., in gold. +This has no lining and is a much older hat. It must be the murderer’s +hat.” +</p> + +<p> +“If it is,” said Thorndyke, “that is a most important fact—important +in two respects. Could you let us see your hat?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” replied Byramji, walking quickly, but with a soft tread, +to the door. As he went out, shutting the door silently behind him, +Thorndyke picked up the derelict hat and swiftly tried it on the head +of the dead man. As far as I could judge, it appeared to fit, and this +Thorndyke confirmed as he replaced it on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“As you see,” said he, “it is at least a practicable fit, which is a +fact of some significance.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Mr. Byramji returned with his own hat, which he placed on the +table by the side of the other, and thus placed, crown uppermost, the +two hats were closely similar. Both were black, hard felts of the +prevalent “bowler” shape, and of good quality, and the difference in +their age and state of preservation was not striking; but when Byramji +turned them over and exhibited their interiors it was seen that +whereas the strange hat was unlined save for the leather headband, +Byramji’s had a white silk lining and bore the owner’s initials in +embossed gilt letters. +</p> + +<p> +“What happened,” said Thorndyke, when he had carefully compared the +two hats, “seems fairly obvious. The two men, on entering, placed +their hats crown upwards on the table. In some way—perhaps during a +struggle—the visitor’s hat was knocked down and rolled under the +table. Then the stranger, on leaving, picked up the only visible +hat—almost identically similar to his own—and put it on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it not rather singular,” I asked, “that he should not have noticed +the different feel of a strange hat?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not,” Thorndyke replied. “If he noticed anything unusual he +would probably assume that he had put it on the wrong way round. +Remember that he would be extremely hurried and agitated. And when +once he had left the house he would not dare to take the risk of +returning, though he would doubtless realize the gravity of the +mistake. And now,” he continued, “would you mind giving us a few +particulars? You have spoken of a great ruby, which your cousin had, +and which seems to be missing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. You shall come to my room and I will tell you about it; but +first let us lay my poor cousin decently on his bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said Thorndyke, “the body ought not to be moved until the +police have seen it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you are right,” Byramji agreed reluctantly, “though it seems +callous to leave him lying there.” With a sigh he turned to the door, +and Thorndyke followed, carrying the two hats. +</p> + +<p> +“My cousin and I,” said our host, when we were seated in his own large +bed-sitting room, “were both interested in gem-stones. I deal in all +kinds of stones that are found in the East, but Dinanath dealt almost +exclusively in rubies. He was a very fine judge of those beautiful +gems, and he used to make periodical tours in Burma in search of uncut +rubies of unusual size or quality. About four months ago he acquired +at Mogok, in Upper Burma, a magnificent specimen over twenty-eight +carats in weight, perfectly flawless and of the most gorgeous colour. +It had been roughly cut, but my cousin was intending to have it recut +unless he should receive an advantageous offer for it in the +meantime.” +</p> + +<p> +“What would be the value of such a stone?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible to say. A really fine large ruby of perfect colour +is far, far more valuable than the finest diamond of the same size. It +is the most precious of all gems, with the possible exception of the +emerald. A fine ruby of five carats is worth about three thousand +pounds, but, of course, the value rises out of all proportion with +increasing size. Fifty thousand pounds would be a moderate price for +Dinanath’s ruby.” +</p> + +<p> +During this recital I noticed that Thorndyke, while listening +attentively, was turning the stranger’s hat over in his hands, +narrowly scrutinizing it both inside and outside. As Byramji +concluded, he remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“We shall have to let the police know what has happened, but, as my +friend and I will be called as witnesses, I should like to examine +this hat a little more closely before you hand it over to them. Could +you let me have a small, hard brush? A dry nail-brush would do.” +</p> + +<p> +Our host complied readily—in fact eagerly. Thorndyke’s authoritative, +purposeful manner had clearly impressed him, for he said as he handed +my colleague a new nail-brush: “I thank you for your help and value +it. We must not depend on the police only.” +</p> + +<p> +Accustomed as I was to Thorndyke’s methods, his procedure was not +unexpected, but Mr. Byramji watched him with breathless interest and +no little surprise as, laying a sheet of note-paper on the table, he +brought the hat close to it and brushed firmly but slowly, so that the +dust dislodged should fall on it. As it was not a very well-kept hat, +the yield was considerable, especially when the brush was drawn under +the curl of the brim, and very soon the paper held quite a little +heap. Then Thorndyke folded the paper into a small packet and having +written “outside” on it, put it in his pocket-book. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you do that?” Mr. Byramji asked. “What will the dust tell +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably nothing,” Thorndyke replied. “But this hat is our only +direct clue to the identity of the man who was with your cousin, and +we must make the most of it. Dust, you know, is only a mass of +fragments detached from surrounding objects. If the objects are +unusual the dust may be quite distinctive. You could easily identify +the hat of a miller or a cement worker.” As he was speaking he +reversed the hat and turned down the leather head-lining, whereupon a +number of strips of folded paper fell down into the crown. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” exclaimed Byramji, “perhaps we shall learn something now.” +</p> + +<p> +He picked out the folded slips and began eagerly to open them out, and +we examined them systematically, one by one. But they were singularly +disappointing and uninforming. Mostly they consisted of strips of +newspaper, with one or two circulars, a leaf from a price list of gas +stoves, a portion of a large envelope on which were the remains of an +address which read “—n—don, W.C.,” and a piece of paper, evidently +cut down vertically and bearing the right-hand half of some kind of +list. This read: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“—el 3 oz. 5 dwts.</span><br> +<span class="i0">—eep 9½ oz.”</span> +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“Can you make anything of this?” I asked, handing the paper to +Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at it reflectively, and answered, as he copied it into his +notebook: “It has, at least, some character. If we consider it with +the other data we should get some sort of hint from it. But these +scraps of paper don’t tell us much. Perhaps their most suggestive +feature is their quantity and the way in which, as you have no doubt +noticed, they were arranged at the sides of the hat. We had better +replace them as we found them for the benefit of the police.” +</p> + +<p> +The nature of the suggestion to which he referred was not very obvious +to me, but the presence of Mr. Byramji rendered discussion +inadvisable; nor was there any opportunity, for we had hardly +reconstituted the hat when we became aware of a number of persons +ascending the stairs, and then we heard the sound of rather peremptory +rapping at the door of the dead man’s room. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Byramji opened the door and went out on to the landing, where +several persons had collected, including the two servants and a +constable. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand,” said the policeman, “that there is something wrong +here. Is that so?” +</p> + +<p> +“A very terrible thing has happened,” replied Byramji. “But the +doctors can tell you better than I can.” Here he looked appealingly at +Thorndyke, and we both went out and joined him. +</p> + +<p> +“A gentleman—Mr. Dinanath Byramji—has met with his death under +somewhat suspicious circumstances,” said Thorndyke, and, glancing at +the knot of naturally curious persons on the landing, he continued: +“If you will come into the room where the death occurred, I will give +you the facts so far as they are known to us.” +</p> + +<p> +With this he opened the door and entered the room with Mr. Byramji, +the constable, and me. As the door opened, the bystanders craned +forward and a middle-aged woman uttered a cry of horror and followed +us into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“This is dreadful!” she exclaimed, with a shuddering glance at the +corpse. “The servants told me about it when I came in just now and I +sent Albert for the police at once. But what does it mean? You don’t +think poor Mr. Dinanath has been murdered?” +</p> + +<p> +“We had better get the facts, ma’am,” said the constable, drawing out +a large black notebook and laying his helmet on the table. He turned +to Mr. Byramji, who had sunk into a chair and sat, the picture of +grief, gazing at his dead cousin. “Would you kindly tell me what you +know about how it happened?” +</p> + +<p> +Byramji repeated the substance of what he had told us, and when the +constable had taken down his statement, Thorndyke and I gave the few +medical particulars that we could furnish and handed the constable our +cards. Then, having helped to lay the corpse on the bed and cover it +with a sheet, we turned to take our leave. +</p> + +<p> +“You have been very kind,” Mr. Byramji said as he shook our hands +warmly. “I am more than grateful. Perhaps I may be permitted to call +on you and hear if—if you have learned anything fresh,” he concluded +discreetly. +</p> + +<p> +“We shall be pleased to see you,” Thorndyke replied, “and to give you +any help that we can”; and with this we took our departure, watched +inquisitively down the stairs by the boarders and the servants who +still lurked in the vicinity of the chamber of death. +</p> + +<p> +“If the police have no more information than we have,” I remarked as +we walked homeward, “they won’t have much to go on.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Thorndyke. “But you must remember that this crime—as we +are justified in assuming it to be—is not an isolated one. It is the +fourth of practically the same kind within the last six months. I +understand that the police have some kind of information respecting +the presumed criminal, though it can’t be worth much, seeing that no +arrest has been made. But there is some new evidence this time. The +exchange of hats may help the police considerably.” +</p> + +<p> +“In what way? What evidence does it furnish?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the first place it suggests a hurried departure, which seems to +connect the missing man with the crime. Then, he is wearing the dead +man’s hat, and though he is not likely to continue wearing it, it may +be seen and furnish a clue. We know that that hat fits him fairly and +we know its size, so that we know the size of his head. Finally, we +have the man’s own hat.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t fancy the police will get much information from that,” said +I. +</p> + +<p> +“Probably not,” he agreed. “Yet it offered one or two interesting +suggestions, as you probably observed.” +</p> + +<p> +“It made no suggestions whatever to me,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “I can only recommend you to recall our simple +inspection and consider the significance of what we found.” +</p> + +<p> +This I had to accept as closing the discussion for the time being, and +as I had to make a call at my bookseller’s concerning some reports +that I had left to be bound, I parted from Thorndyke at the corner of +Chichester Rents and left him to pursue his way alone. +</p> + +<p> +My business with the bookseller took me longer than I had expected, +for I had to wait while the lettering on the backs was completed, and +when I arrived at our chambers in King’s Bench Walk, I found Thorndyke +apparently at the final stage of some experiment evidently connected +with our late adventure. The microscope stood on the table with one +slide on the stage and a second one beside it; but Thorndyke had +apparently finished his microscopical researches, for as I entered he +held in his hand a test-tube filled with a smoky-coloured fluid. +</p> + +<p> +“I see that you have been examining the dust from the hat,” said I. +“Does it throw any fresh light on the case?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little,” he replied. “It is just common dust—assorted fibres +and miscellaneous organic and mineral particles. But there are a +couple of hairs from the inside of the hat—both lightish brown, and +one of the atrophic, note-of-exclamation type that one finds at the +margin of bald patches; and the outside dust shows minute traces of +lead, apparently in the form of oxide. What do you make of that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps the man is a plumber or a painter,” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Either is possible and worth considering,” he replied; but his tone +made clear to me that this was not his own inference; and a row of +five consecutive Post Office Directories, which I had already noticed +ranged along the end of the table, told me that he had not only formed +a hypothesis on the subject, but had probably either confirmed or +disproved it. For the Post Office Directory was one of Thorndyke’s +favourite books of reference; and the amount of curious and recondite +information that he succeeded in extracting from its matter-of-fact +pages would have surprised no one more than it would the compilers of +the work. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the sound of footsteps ascending our stairs became +audible. It was late for business callers, but we were not +unaccustomed to late visitors; and a familiar rat-tat of our little +brass knocker seemed to explain the untimely visit. +</p> + +<p> +“That sounds like Superintendent Miller’s knock,” said Thorndyke, as +he strode across the room to open the door. And the Superintendent it +turned out to be. But not alone. +</p> + +<p> +As the door opened, the officer entered with two gentlemen, both +natives of India, and one of whom was our friend Mr. Byramji. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” said Miller, “I had better look in a little later.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not on my account,” said Byramji. “I have only a few words to say and +there is nothing secret about my business. May I introduce my kinsman, +Mr. Khambata, a student of the Inner Temple?” +</p> + +<p> +Byramji’s companion bowed ceremoniously. “Byramji came to my chambers +just now,” he explained, “to consult me about this dreadful affair, +and he chanced to show me your card. He had not heard of you, but +supposed you to be an ordinary medical practitioner. He did not +realize that he had entertained an angel unawares. But I, who knew of +your great reputation, advised him to put his affairs in your +hands—without prejudice to the official investigations,” Mr. Khambata +added hastily, bowing to the Superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“And I,” said Mr. Byramji, “instantly decided to act on my kinsman’s +advice. I have come to beg you to leave no stone unturned to secure +the punishment of my cousin’s murderer. Spare no expense. I am a rich +man and my poor cousin’s property will come to me. As to the ruby, +recover it if you can, but it is of no consequence. Vengeance—justice +is what I seek. Deliver this wretch into my hands, or into the hands +of justice, and I give you the ruby or its value, freely—gladly.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need,” said Thorndyke, “of such extraordinary inducement. +If you wish me to investigate this case, I will do so and will use +every means at my disposal, without prejudice, as your friend says, to +the proper claims of the officers of the law. But you understand that +I can make no promises. I cannot guarantee success.” +</p> + +<p> +“We understand that,” said Mr. Khambata. “But we know that if you +undertake the case, everything that is possible will be done. And now +we must leave you to your consultation.” +</p> + +<p> +As soon as our clients had gone, Miller rose from his chair with his +hand in his breast pocket. “I dare say, Doctor,” said he, “you can +guess what I have come about. I was sent for to look into this Byramji +case, and I heard from Mr. Byramji that you had been there and that +you had made a minute examination of the missing man’s hat. So have I; +and I don’t mind telling you that I could learn nothing from it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t learnt much myself,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“But you’ve picked up something,” urged Miller, “if it is only a hint; +and we have just a little clue. There is very small doubt that this is +the same man—‘The New Jersey Sphinx,’ as the papers call him—that +committed those other robberies; and a very difficult type of criminal +he is to get hold of. He is bold, he is wary, he plays a lone hand, +and he sticks at nothing. He has no confederates, and he kills every +time. The American police never got near him but once; and that once +gives us the only clues we have.” +</p> + +<p> +“Finger-prints?” inquired Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and very poor ones, too. So rough that you can hardly make out +the pattern. And even those are not absolutely guaranteed to be his; +but in any case, finger-prints are not much use until you’ve got the +man. And there is a photograph of the fellow himself. But it is only a +snapshot, and a poor one at that. All it shows is that he has a mop of +hair and a pointed beard—or at least he had when the photograph was +taken. But for identification purposes it is practically worthless. +Still, there it is; and what I propose is this: we want this man and +so do you; we’ve worked together before and can trust one another. I +am going to lay my cards on the table and ask you to do the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear Miller,” said Thorndyke, “I haven’t any cards. I haven’t +a single solid fact.” +</p> + +<p> +The detective was visibly disappointed. Nevertheless, he laid two +photographs on the table and pushed them towards Thorndyke, who +inspected them through his lens and passed them to me. +</p> + +<p> +“The pattern is very indistinct and broken up,” he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Miller; “the prints must have been made on a very rough +surface, though you get prints something like those from fitters or +other men who use files and handle rough metal. And now, Doctor, can’t +you give us a lead of any kind?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke reflected a few moments. “I really have not a single real +fact,” said he, “and I am unwilling to make merely speculative +suggestions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s all right,” Miller replied cheerfully. “Give us a start. I +shan’t complain if it comes to nothing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” Thorndyke said reluctantly, “I was thinking of getting a few +particulars as to the various tenants of No. 51, Clifford’s Inn. +Perhaps you could do it more easily and it might be worth your while.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” Miller exclaimed gleefully. “He ‘gives to airy nothing a local +habitation and a name.’ ” +</p> + +<p> +“It is probably the wrong name,” Thorndyke reminded him. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care,” said Miller. “But why shouldn’t we go together? It’s +too late to-night, and I can’t manage to-morrow morning. But say +to-morrow afternoon. Two heads are better than one, you know, +especially when the second one is yours. Or perhaps,” he added, with a +glance at me, “three would be better still.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke considered for a moment or two and then looked at me. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you say, Jervis?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +As my afternoon was unoccupied, I agreed with enthusiasm, being as +curious as the Superintendent to know how Thorndyke had connected this +particular locality with the vanished criminal; and Miller departed in +high spirits with an appointment for the morrow at three o’clock in +the afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +For some time after the Superintendent’s departure I sat wrapped in +profound meditation. In some mysterious way the address, 51, +Clifford’s Inn, had emerged from the formless data yielded by the +derelict hat. But what had been the connection? Apparently the +fragment of the addressed envelope had furnished the clue. But how had +Thorndyke extended “——n” into “51, Clifford’s Inn”? It was to me a +complete mystery. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, Thorndyke had seated himself at the writing table, and I +noticed that of the two letters which he wrote, one was written on our +headed paper and the other on ordinary plain notepaper. I was +speculating on the reason for this when he rose, and as he stuck on +the stamps, said to me, “I am just going out to post these two +letters. Do you care for a short stroll through the leafy shades of +Fleet Street? The evening is still young.” +</p> + +<p> +“The rural solitudes of Fleet Street attract me at all hours,” I +replied, fetching my hat from the adjoining office; and we accordingly +sallied forth together, strolling up King’s Bench Walk and emerging +into Fleet Street by way of Mitre Court. When Thorndyke had dropped +his letters into the post office box he stood awhile gazing up at the +tower of St. Dunstan’s Church. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever been in Clifford’s Inn, Jervis?” he inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Never,” I replied (we passed through it together on an average a +dozen times a week), “but it is not too late for an exploratory +visit.” +</p> + +<p> +We crossed the road, and entering Clifford’s Inn Passage, passed +through the still half-open gate, crossed the outer court and threaded +the tunnel-like entry by the hall to the inner court, near the middle +of which Thorndyke halted, and looking up at one of the ancient +houses, remarked, “No. 51.” +</p> + +<p> +“So that is where our friend hangs out his flag,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, come, Jervis,” he protested, “I am surprised at you; you are as +bad as Miller. I have merely suggested a possible connection between +these premises and the hat that was left at Bedford Place. As to the +nature of that connection I have no idea, and there may be no +connection at all. I assure you, Jervis, that I am on the thinnest +possible ice. I am working on a hypothesis which is in the highest +degree speculative, and I should not have given Miller a hint, but +that he was so eager and so willing to help—and also that I wanted +his finger-prints. But we are really only at the beginning, and may +never get any farther.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked up at the old house. It was all in darkness excepting the top +floor, where a couple of lighted windows showed the shadow of a man +moving rapidly about the room. We crossed to the entry and inspected +the names painted on the door-posts. The ground floor was occupied by +a firm of photoengravers, the first floor by a Mr. Carrington, whose +name stood out conspicuously on its oblong of comparatively fresh +white paint, while the tenants of the second floor—old residents, to +judge by the faded and discoloured paint in which their names were +announced—were Messrs. Burt & Highley, metallurgists. +</p> + +<p> +“Burt has departed,” said Thorndyke, as I read out the names; and he +pointed to two red lines of erasure which I had not noticed in the dim +light, “so the active gentleman above is presumably Mr. Highley, and +we may take it that he has residential as well as business premises. I +wonder who and what Mr. Carrington is—but I dare say we shall find +out to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +With this he dismissed the professional aspects of Clifford’s Inn, and +changing the subject to its history and associations, chatted in his +inimitable, picturesque manner until our leisurely perambulations +brought us at length to the Inner Temple Gate. +</p> + +<p> +On the following morning we bustled through our work in order to leave +the afternoon free, making several joint visits to solicitors from +whom we were taking instructions. Returning from the last of these—a +City lawyer—Thorndyke turned into St. Helen’s Place and halted at a +doorway bearing the brass plate of a firm of assayists and refiners. I +followed him into the outer office where, on his mentioning his name, +an elderly man came to the counter. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Grayson has put out some specimens for you, sir,” said he. “They +are about thirty grains to the ton—you said that the content was of +no importance—and I am to tell you that you need not return them. +They are not worth treating.” He went to a large safe from which he +took a canvas bag, and returning to the counter, turned out on it the +contents of the bag, consisting of about a dozen good-sized lumps of +quartz and a glittering yellow fragment, which Thorndyke picked out +and dropped in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Will that collection do?” our friend inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“It will answer my purpose perfectly,” Thorndyke replied, and when the +specimens had been replaced in the bag, and the latter deposited in +Thorndyke’s handbag, my colleague thanked the assistant and we went on +our way. +</p> + +<p> +“We extend our activities into the domain of mineralogy,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke smiled an inscrutable smile. “We also employ the suction +pump as an instrument of research,” he observed. “However, the +strategic uses of chunks of quartz—otherwise than as missiles—will +develop themselves in due course, and the interval may be used for +reflection.” +</p> + +<p> +It was. But my reflections brought no solution. I noticed, however, +that when at three o’clock we set forth in company with the +Superintendent, the bag went with us; and having offered to carry it +and having had my offer accepted with a sly twinkle, its weight +assured me that the quartz was still inside. +</p> + +<p> +“Chambers and Offices to let,” Thorndyke read aloud as we approached +the porter’s lodge. “That lets us in, I think. And the porter knows +Dr. Jervis and me by sight, so he will talk more freely.” +</p> + +<p> +“He doesn’t know me,” said the Superintendent, “but I’ll keep in the +background, all the same.” +</p> + +<p> +A pull at the bell brought out a clerical-looking man in a tall hat +and a frock coat, who regarded Thorndyke and me through his spectacles +with an amiable air of recognition. +</p> + +<p> +“Good afternoon, Mr. Larkin,” said Thorndyke. “I am asked to get +particulars of vacant chambers. What have you got to let?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Larkin reflected. “Let me see. There’s a ground floor at No. +5—rather dark—and a small second-pair set at No. 12. And then there +is—oh, yes, there is a good first floor set at No. 51. They wouldn’t +have been vacant until Michaelmas, but Mr. Carrington, the tenant, has +had to go abroad suddenly. I had a letter from him this morning, +enclosing the key. Funny letter, too.” He dived into his pocket, and +hauling out a bundle of letters, selected one and handed it to +Thorndyke with a broad smile. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke glanced at the postmark (“London, E.”), and having taken out +the key, extracted the letter, which he opened and held so that Miller +and I could see it. The paper bore the printed heading, “Baltic +Shipping Company, Wapping,” and the further written heading, “S.S. +<i>Gothenburg</i>,” and the letter was brief and to the point: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="noindent"> +<i>Dear Sir,</i> +</p> + +<p> +<i>I am giving up my chambers at No.</i> 51, <i>as I have been suddenly +called abroad. I enclose the key, but am not troubling you with the +rent. The sale of my costly furniture will more than cover it, and the +surplus can be expended on painting the garden railings.</i> +</p> + +<p class="rt1 mt1"> +<i>Yours sincerely,<br> +A. Carrington.</i> +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +Thorndyke smilingly replaced the letter and the key in the envelope +and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What is the furniture like?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll see,” chuckled the porter, “if you care to look at the rooms. +And I think they might suit. They’re a good set.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quiet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, pretty quiet. There’s a metallurgist overhead—Highley—used to +be Burt & Highley, but Burt has gone to the City, and I don’t think +Highley does much business now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see,” said Thorndyke, “I think I used to meet Highley +sometimes—a tall, dark man, isn’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, that would be Burt. Highley is a little, fairish man, rather +bald, with a pretty rich complexion”—here Mr. Larkin tapped his nose +knowingly and raised his little finger—“which may account for the +falling off of business.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hadn’t we better have a look at the rooms?” Miller interrupted a +little impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Can we see them, Mr. Larkin?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” was the reply. “You’ve got the key. Let me have it when +you’ve seen the rooms; and whatever you do,” he added with a broad +grin, “be careful of the furniture.” +</p> + +<p> +“It looks,” the Superintendent remarked as we crossed the inner court, +“as if Mr. Carrington had done a mizzle. That’s hopeful. And I see,” +he continued, glancing at the fresh paint on the door-post as we +passed through the entry, “that he hasn’t been here long. That’s +hopeful, too.” +</p> + +<p> +We ascended to the first floor, and as Thorndyke unlocked and threw +open the door, Miller laughed aloud. The “costly furniture” consisted +of a small kitchen table, a Windsor chair and a dilapidated +deck-chair. The kitchen contained a gas ring, a small saucepan and a +frying-pan, and the bedroom was furnished with a camp-bed devoid of +bed-clothes, a washhand basin on a packing case, and a water can. +</p> + +<p> +“Hallo!” exclaimed the Superintendent. “He’s left a hat behind. Quite +a good hat, too.” He took it down from the peg, glanced at its +exterior and then, turning it over, looked inside. And then his mouth +opened with a jerk. +</p> + +<p> +“Great Solomon Eagle!” he gasped. “Do you see, Doctor? It’s <i>the</i> +hat.” +</p> + +<p> +He held it out to us, and sure enough on the white silk lining of the +crown were the embossed, gilt letters, D.B., just as Mr. Byramji had +described them. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, as the Superintendent snatched up a +greengrocer’s paper bag from the kitchen floor and persuaded the hat +into it, “it is undoubtedly the missing link. But what are you going +to do now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do!” exclaimed Miller. “Why, I am going to collar the man. These +Baltic boats put in at Hull and Newcastle—perhaps he didn’t know +that—and they are pretty slow boats, too. I shall wire to Newcastle +to have the ship detained and take Inspector Badger down to make the +arrest. I’ll leave you to explain to the porter, and I owe you a +thousand thanks for your valuable tip.” +</p> + +<p> +With this he bustled away, clasping the precious hat, and from the +window we saw him hurry across the court and dart out through the +postern into Fetter Lane. +</p> + +<p> +“I think Miller was rather precipitate,” said Thorndyke. “He should +have got a description of the man and some further particulars.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said I. “Miller had much better have waited until you had +finished with Mr. Larkin. But you can get some more particulars when +we take back the key.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall get more information from the gentleman who lives on the +floor above, and I think we will go up and interview him now. I wrote +to him last night and made a metallurgical appointment, signing myself +W. Polton. Your name, if he should ask, is Stevenson.” +</p> + +<p> +As we ascended the stairs to the next floor, I meditated on the rather +tortuous proceedings of my usually straightforward colleague. The use +of the lumps of quartz was now obvious; but why these mysterious +tactics? And why, before knocking at the door, did Thorndyke carefully +take the reading of the gas meter on the landing? +</p> + +<p> +The door was opened in response to our knock by a shortish, +alert-looking, clean-shaved man in a white overall, who looked at us +keenly and rather forbiddingly. But Thorndyke was geniality +personified. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you do, Mr. Highley?” said he, holding out his hand, which the +metallurgist shook coolly. “You got my letter, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But I am not Mr. Highley. He’s away and I am carrying on. I +think of taking over his business, if there is any to take over. My +name is Sherwood. Have you got the samples?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke produced the canvas bag, which Mr. Sherwood took from him +and emptied out on a bench, picking up the lumps of quartz one by one +and examining them closely. Meanwhile Thorndyke took a rapid survey of +the premises. Against the wall were two cupel furnaces and a third +larger furnace like a small pottery kiln. On a set of narrow shelves +were several rows of bone-ash cupels, looking like little white +flower-pots, and near them was the cupel-press—an appliance into +which powdered bone-ash was fed and compressed by a plunger to form +the cupels—while by the side of the press was a tub of bone-ash—a +good deal coarser, I noticed, than the usual fine powder. This +coarseness was also observed by Thorndyke, who edged up to the tub and +dipped his hand into the ash and then wiped his fingers on his +handkerchief. +</p> + +<p> +“This stuff doesn’t seem to contain much gold,” said Mr. Sherwood. +“But we shall see when we make the assay.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of this?” asked Thorndyke, taking from his pocket +the small lump of glittering, golden-looking mineral that he had +picked out at the assayist’s. Mr. Sherwood took it from him and +examined it closely. “This looks more hopeful,” said he; “rather rich, +in fact.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke received this statement with an unmoved countenance; but as +for me, I stared at Mr. Sherwood in amazement. For this lump of +glittering mineral was simply a fragment of common iron pyrites! It +would not have deceived a schoolboy, much less a metallurgist. +</p> + +<p> +Still holding the specimen, and taking a watchmaker’s lens from a +shelf, Mr. Sherwood moved over to the window. Simultaneously, +Thorndyke stepped softly to the cupel shelves and quickly ran his eye +along the rows of cupels. Presently he paused at one, examined it more +closely, and then, taking it from the shelf, began to pick at it with +his finger-nail. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment Mr. Sherwood turned and observed him; and instantly +there flashed into the metallurgist’s face an expression of mingled +anger and alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“Put that down!” he commanded peremptorily, and then, as Thorndyke +continued to scrape with his finger-nail, he shouted furiously, “Do +you hear? Drop it!” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke took him literally at his word and let the cupel fall on the +floor, when it shattered into innumerable fragments, of which one of +the largest separated itself from the rest. Thorndyke pounced upon it +and in an instantaneous glance as he picked it up, I recognized it as +a calcined tooth. +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a few moments of weird, dramatic silence. Thorndyke, +holding the tooth between his finger and thumb, looked steadily into +the eyes of the metallurgist; and the latter, pallid as a corpse, +glared at Thorndyke and furtively unbuttoned his overall. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the silence broke into a tumult as bewildering as the crash +of a railway collision. Sherwood’s right hand darted under his +overall. Instantly, Thorndyke snatched up another cupel and hurled it +with such truth of aim that it shattered on the metallurgist’s +forehead. And as he flung the missile, he sprang forward, and +delivered a swift upper-cut. There was a thunderous crash, a cloud of +white dust, and an automatic pistol clattered along the floor. +</p> + +<p> +I snatched up the pistol and rushed to my friend’s assistance. But +there was no need. With his great strength and his uncanny skill—to +say nothing of the effects of the knock-out blow—Thorndyke had the +man pinned down immovably. +</p> + +<p> +“See if you can find some cord, Jervis,” he said in a calm, quiet tone +that seemed almost ridiculously out of character with the +circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +There was no difficulty about this, for several corded boxes stood in +a corner of the laboratory. I cut off two lengths, with one of which I +secured the prostrate man’s arms and with the other fastened his knees +and ankles. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Thorndyke, “if you will take charge of his hands, we will +make a preliminary inspection. Let us first see if he wears a belt.” +</p> + +<p> +Unbuttoning the man’s waistcoat, he drew up the shirt, disclosing a +broad, webbing belt furnished with several leather pockets, the +buttoned flaps of which he felt carefully, regardless of the stream of +threats and imprecations that poured from our victim’s swollen lips. +From the front pockets he proceeded to the back, passing an +exploratory hand under the writhing body. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” he exclaimed suddenly, “just turn him over, and look out for his +heels.” +</p> + +<p> +We rolled our captive over, and as Thorndyke “skinned the rabbit,” a +central pocket came into view, into which, when he had unbuttoned it, +he inserted his fingers. “Yes,” he continued, “I think this is what we +are looking for.” He withdrew his fingers, between which he held a +small packet of Japanese paper, and with feverish excitement I watched +him open out layer after layer of the soft wrapping. As he turned back +the last fold a wonderful crimson sparkle told me that the “great +ruby” was found. +</p> + +<p> +“There, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, holding the magnificent gem towards +me in the palm of his hand, “look on this beautiful, sinister thing, +charged with untold potentialities of evil—and thank the gods that it +is not yours.” +</p> + +<p> +He wrapped it up again carefully and, having bestowed it in an inner +pocket, said, “And now give me the pistol and run down to the +telegraph office and see if you can stop Miller. I should like him to +have the credit for this.” +</p> + +<p> +I handed him the pistol and made my way out into Fetter Lane and so +down to Fleet Street, where at the post office my urgent message was +sent off to Scotland Yard immediately. In a few minutes the reply came +that Superintendent Miller had not yet left and that he was starting +immediately for Clifford’s Inn. A quarter of an hour later he drove up +in a hansom to the Fetter Lane gate and I conducted him up to the +second floor, where Thorndyke introduced him to his prisoner and +witnessed the official arrest. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“You don’t see how I arrived at it,” said Thorndyke as we walked +homeward after returning the key. “Well, I am not surprised. The +initial evidence was of the weakest; it acquired significance only by +cumulative effect. Let us reconstruct it as it developed. +</p> + +<p> +“The derelict hat was, of course, the starting point. Now the first +thing one noticed was that it appeared to have had more than one +owner. No man would buy a new hat that fitted so badly as to need all +that packing; and the arrangement of the packing suggested a +long-headed man wearing a hat that had belonged to a man with a short +head. Then there were the suggestions offered by the slips of paper. +The fragmentary address referred to a place the name of which ended in +‘n’ and the remainder was evidently ‘London, W.C.’ Now what West +Central place names end in ‘n’? It was not a street, a square or a +court, and Barbican is not in the W.C. district. It was almost +certainly one of the half-dozen surviving Inns of Court or Chancery. +But, of course, it was not necessarily the address of the owner of the +hat. +</p> + +<p> +“The other slip of paper bore the end of a word ending in ‘el,’ and +another word ending in ‘eep,’ and connected with these were quantities +stated in ounces and pennyweights troy weight. But the only persons +who use troy weight are those who deal in precious metals. I inferred +therefore that the ‘el’ was part of ‘lemel,’ and that the ‘eep’ was +part of ‘floor-sweep,’ an inference that was supported by the +respective quantities, three ounces five pennyweights of lemel and +nine and a half ounces of floor-sweep.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is lemel?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It is the trade name for the gold or silver filings that collect in +the ‘skin’ of a jeweller’s bench. Floor-sweep is, of course, the dust +swept up on the floor of a jeweller’s or goldsmith’s workshop. The +lemel is actual metal, though not of uniform fineness, but the ‘sweep’ +is a mixture of dirt and metal. Both are saved and sent to the +refiners to have the gold and silver extracted. +</p> + +<p> +“This paper, then, was connected either with a goldsmith or a gold +refiner—who might call himself an assayist or a metallurgist. The +connection was supported by the leaf of a price list of gas stoves. A +metallurgist would be kept well supplied with lists of gas stoves and +furnaces. The traces of lead in the dust from the hat gave us another +straw blowing in the same direction, for gold assayed by the dry +process is fused in the cupel furnace with lead; and as the lead +oxidizes and the oxide is volatile, traces of lead would tend to +appear in the dust deposited in the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +“The next thing to do was to consult the directory; and when I did so, +I found that there were no goldsmiths in any of the Inns and only one +assayist—Mr. Highley, of Clifford’s Inn. The probabilities, +therefore, slender as they were, pointed to some connection between +this stray hat and Mr. Highley. And this was positively all the +information that we had when we came out this afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as we got to Clifford’s Inn, however, the evidence began to +grow like a rolling snowball. First there was Larkin’s contribution; +and then there was the discovery of the missing hat. Now, as soon as I +saw that hat my suspicions fell upon the man upstairs. I felt a +conviction that the hat had been left there purposely and that the +letter to Larkin was just a red herring to create a false trail. +Nevertheless, the presence of that hat completely confirmed the other +evidence. It showed that the apparent connection was a real +connection.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” I asked, “what made you suspect the man upstairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Jervis!” he exclaimed. “Consider the facts. That hat was +enough to hang the man who left it there. Can you imagine this astute, +wary villain making such an idiot’s mistake—going away and leaving +the means of his conviction for any one to find? But you are +forgetting that whereas the missing hat was found on the first floor, +the murderer’s hat was connected with the second floor. The evidence +suggested that it was Highley’s hat. And now, before we go on to the +next stage, let me remind you of those finger-prints. Miller thought +that their rough appearance was due to the surface on which they had +been made. But it was not. They were the prints of a person who was +suffering from ichthyosis, palmar psoriasis or some dry dermatitis. +</p> + +<p> +“There is one other point. The man we were looking for was a murderer. +His life was already forfeit. To such a man another murder more or +less is of no consequence. If this man, having laid the false trail, +had determined to take sanctuary in Highley’s rooms, it was probable +that he had already got rid of Highley. And remember that a +metallurgist has unrivalled means of disposing of a body; for not only +is each of his muffle furnaces a miniature crematorium, but the very +residue of a cremated body—bone-ash—is one of the materials of his +trade. +</p> + +<p> +“When we went upstairs, I first took the reading of the gas meter and +ascertained that a large amount of gas had been used recently. Then, +when we entered I took the opportunity to shake hands with Mr. +Sherwood, and immediately I became aware that he suffered from a +rather extreme form of ichthyosis. That was the first point of +verification. Then we discovered that he actually could not +distinguish between iron pyrites and auriferous quartz. He was not a +metallurgist at all. He was a masquerader. Then the bone-ash in the +tub was mixed with fragments of calcined bone, and the cupels all +showed similar fragments. In one of them I could see part of the crown +of a tooth. That was pure luck. But observe that by that time I had +enough evidence to justify an arrest. The tooth served only to bring +the affair to a crisis; and his response to my unspoken accusation +saved us the trouble of further search for confirmatory evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is not quite clear to me,” said I, “is when and why he made away +with Highley. As the body has been completely reduced to bone-ash, +Highley must have been dead at least some days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly,” Thorndyke agreed. “I take it that the course of events +was somewhat like this: The police have been searching eagerly for +this man, and every new crime must have made his position more +unsafe—for a criminal can never be sure that he has not dropped some +clue. It began to be necessary for him to make some arrangements for +leaving the country and meanwhile to have a retreat in case his +whereabouts should chance to be discovered. Highley’s chambers were +admirable for both purposes. Here was a solitary man who seldom had a +visitor, and who would probably not be missed for some considerable +time; and in those chambers were the means of rapidly and completely +disposing of the body. The mere murder would be a negligible detail to +this ruffian. +</p> + +<p> +“I imagine that Highley was done to death at least a week ago, and +that the murderer did not take up his new tenancy until the body was +reduced to ash. With that large furnace in addition to the small ones, +this would not take long. When the new premises were ready, he could +make a sham disappearance to cover his actual flight later; and you +must see how perfectly misleading that sham disappearance was. If the +police had discovered that hat in the empty room only a week later, +they would have been certain that he had escaped to one of the Baltic +ports; and while they were following his supposed tracks, he could +have gone off comfortably via Folkestone or Southampton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you think he had only just moved into Highley’s rooms?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say he moved in last night. The murder of Byramji was +probably planned on some information that the murderer had picked up, +and as soon as it was accomplished he began forthwith to lay down the +false tracks. When he reached his rooms yesterday afternoon, he must +have written the letter to Larkin and gone off at once to the East End +to post it. Then he probably had his bushy hair cut short and shaved +off his beard and moustache—which would render him quite +unrecognizable by Larkin—and moved into Highley’s chambers, from +which he would have quietly sallied forth in a few days’ time to take +his passage to the Continent. It was quite a good plan and but for the +accident of taking the wrong hat, would almost certainly have +succeeded.” +</p> + +<p> +Once every year, on the second of August, there is delivered with +unfailing regularity at No. <span class="sc">5a</span>, King’s Bench Walk, a large box of +carved sandal-wood filled with the choicest Trichinopoly cheroots and +accompanied by an affectionate letter from our late client, Mr. +Byramji. For the second of August is the anniversary of the death (in +the execution shed at Newgate) of Cornelius Barnett, otherwise known +as the “New Jersey Sphinx.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch04"> +IV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE TOUCHSTONE</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">It</span> happened not uncommonly that the exigencies of practice committed +my friend Thorndyke to investigations that lay more properly within +the province of the police. For problems that had arisen as secondary +consequences of a criminal act could usually not be solved until the +circumstances of that act were fully elucidated, and, incidentally, +the identity of the actor established. Such a problem was that of the +disappearance of James Harewood’s will, a problem that was propounded +to us by our old friend, Mr. Marchmont, when he called on us, by +appointment, with the client of whom he had spoken in his note. +</p> + +<p> +It was just four o’clock when the solicitor arrived at our chambers, +and as I admitted him he ushered in a gentlemanly-looking man of about +thirty-five, whom he introduced as Mr. William Crowhurst. +</p> + +<p> +“I will just stay,” said he, with an approving glance at the +tea-service on the table, “and have a cup of tea with you, and give +you an outline of the case. Then I must run away and leave Mr. +Crowhurst to fill in the details.” +</p> + +<p> +He seated himself in an easy chair within comfortable reach of the +table, and as Thorndyke poured out the tea, he glanced over a few +notes scribbled on a sheet of paper. +</p> + +<p> +“I may say,” he began, stirring his tea thoughtfully, “that this is a +forlorn hope. I have brought the case to you, but I have not the +slightest expectation that you will be able to help us.” +</p> + +<p> +“A very wholesome frame of mind,” Thorndyke commented with a smile. “I +hope it is that of your client also.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is indeed,” said Mr. Crowhurst; “in fact, it seems to me a waste +of your time to go into the matter. Probably you will think so too, +when you have heard the particulars.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let us hear the particulars,” said Thorndyke. “A forlorn hope +has, at least, the stimulating quality of difficulty. Let us have your +outline sketch, Marchmont.” +</p> + +<p> +The solicitor, having emptied his cup and pushed it towards the tray +for replenishment, glanced at his notes and began: +</p> + +<p> +“The simplest way in which to present the problem is to give a brief +recital of the events that have given rise to it, which are these: The +day before yesterday—that is last Monday—at a quarter to two in the +afternoon, Mr. James Harewood executed a will at his house at +Merbridge, which is about two miles from Welsbury. There were present +four persons: two of his servants, who signed as witnesses, and the +two principal beneficiaries—Mr. Arthur Baxfield, a nephew of the +testator, and our friend here, Mr. William Crowhurst. The will was a +holograph written on the two pages of a sheet of letter-paper. When +the witnesses signed, the will was covered by another sheet of paper +so that only the space for the signatures was exposed. Neither of the +witnesses read the will, nor did either of the beneficiaries; and so +far as I am aware, no one but the testator knew what were its actual +provisions, though, after the servants had left the room, Mr. Harewood +explained its general purport to the beneficiaries.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what was its general purport?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Broadly speaking,” replied Marchmont, “it divided the estate in two +very unequal portions between Mr. Baxfield and Mr. Crowhurst. There +were certain small legacies of which neither the amounts nor the names +of the legatees are known. Then, to Baxfield was given a thousand +pounds to enable him either to buy a partnership or to start a small +factory—he is a felt hat manufacturer by trade—and the remainder to +Crowhurst, who was made executor and residuary legatee. But, of +course, the residue of the estate is an unknown quantity, since we +don’t know either the number or the amounts of the legacies. +</p> + +<p> +“Shortly after the signing of the will, the parties separated. Mr. +Harewood folded up the will and put it in a leather wallet which he +slipped into his pocket, stating his intention of taking the will +forthwith to deposit with his lawyer at Welsbury. A few minutes after +his guests had departed, he was seen by one of the servants to leave +the house, and afterwards was seen by a neighbour walking along a +footpath which, after passing through a small wood, joins the main +road about a mile and a quarter from Welsbury. From that time, he was +never again seen alive. He never visited the lawyer, nor did any one +see him at or near Welsbury or elsewhere. +</p> + +<p> +“As he did not return home that night, his housekeeper (he was a +widower and childless) became extremely alarmed, and in the morning +she communicated with the police. A search party was organized, and, +following the path on which he was last seen, explored the wood—which +is known locally as Gilbert’s Copse—and here, at the bottom of an old +chalk-pit, they found him lying dead with a fractured skull and a +dislocated neck. How he came by these injuries is not at present +known; but as the body had been robbed of all valuables, including his +watch, purse, diamond ring and the wallet containing the will, there +is naturally a strong suspicion that he had been murdered. That, +however, is not our immediate concern—at least not mine. I am +concerned with the will, which, as you see, has disappeared, and as it +has presumably been carried away by a thief who is under suspicion of +murder, it is not likely to be returned.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is almost certainly destroyed by this time,” said Mr. Crowhurst. +</p> + +<p> +“That certainly seems probable,” Thorndyke agreed. “But what do you +want me to do? You haven’t come for counsel’s opinion?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Marchmont. “I am pretty clear about the legal position. +I shall claim, as the will has presumably been destroyed, to have the +testator’s wishes carried out in so far as they are known. But I am +doubtful as to the view the Court may take. It may decide that the +testator’s wishes are not known; that the provisions of the will are +too uncertain to admit of administration.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what would be the effect of that decision?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case,” said Marchmont, “the entire estate would go to +Baxfield as he is the next of kin, and there was no previous will.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what is it that you want me to do?” +</p> + +<p> +Marchmont chuckled deprecatingly. “You have to pay the penalty of +being a prodigy, Thorndyke. We are asking you to do an +impossibility—but we don’t really expect you to bring it off. We ask +you to help us to recover the will.” +</p> + +<p> +“If the will has been completely destroyed, it can’t be recovered,” +said Thorndyke. “But we don’t know that it has been destroyed. The +matter is, at least, worth investigating; and if you wish me to look +into it, I will.” +</p> + +<p> +The solicitor rose with an air of evident relief. “Thank you, +Thorndyke,” said he. “I expect nothing—at least, I tell myself that I +do—but I can now feel that everything that is possible will be done. +And now I must be off. Crowhurst can give you any details that you +want.” +</p> + +<p> +When Marchmont had gone, Thorndyke turned to our client and asked, +“What do you suppose Baxfield will do, if the will is irretrievably +lost? Will he press his claim as next of kin?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say yes,” replied Crowhurst. “He is a business man and his +natural claims are greater than mine. He is not likely to refuse what +the law assigns to him as his right. As a matter of fact, I think he +felt that his uncle had treated him unfairly in alienating the +property.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was there any reason for this diversion of the estate?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” replied Crowhurst, “Harewood and I had been very good friends +and he was under some obligations to me; and then Baxfield had not +made himself very acceptable to his uncle. But the principal factor, I +think, was a strong tendency of Baxfield’s to gamble. He had lost +quite a lot of money by backing horses, and a careful, thrifty man +like James Harewood doesn’t care to leave his savings to a gambler. +The thousand pounds that he did leave to Baxfield was expressly for +the purpose of investment in a business.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is Baxfield in business now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not on his own account. He is a sort of foreman or shop-manager in a +factory just outside Welsbury, and I believe he is a good worker and +knows his trade thoroughly.” +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” said Thorndyke, “with regard to Mr. Harewood’s death. The +injuries might, apparently, have been either accidental or homicidal. +What are the probabilities of accident—disregarding the robbery?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very considerable, I should say. It is a most dangerous place. The +footpath runs close beside the edge of a disused chalk-pit with +perpendicular or overhanging sides, and the edge is masked by bushes +and brambles. A careless walker might easily fall over—or be pushed +over, for that matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know when the inquest is to take place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The day after to-morrow. I had the subpœna this morning for +Friday afternoon at 2.30, at the Welsbury Town Hall.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment footsteps were heard hurriedly ascending the stairs and +then came a loud and peremptory rat-tat at our door. I sprang across +to see who our visitor was, and as I flung open the door, Mr. +Marchmont rushed in, breathing heavily and flourishing a newspaper. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is a new development,” he exclaimed. “It doesn’t seem to help us +much, but I thought you had better know about it at once.” He sat +down, and putting on his spectacles, read aloud as follows: “A new and +curious light has been thrown on the mystery of the death of Mr. James +Harewood, whose body was found yesterday in a disused chalk-pit near +Merbridge. It appears that on Monday—the day on which Mr. Harewood +almost certainly was killed—a passenger alighting from a train at +Barwood Junction before it had stopped, slipped and fell between the +train and the platform. He was quickly extricated, and as he had +evidently sustained internal injuries, he was taken to the local +hospital, where he was found to be suffering from a fractured pelvis. +He gave his name as Thomas Fletcher, but refused to give any address, +saying that he had no relatives. This morning he died, and on his +clothes being searched for an address, a parcel, formed of two +handkerchiefs tied up with string, was found in his pocket. When it +was opened it was found to contain five watches, three watch-chains, a +tie-pin and a number of bank-notes. Other pockets contained a quantity +of loose money—gold and silver mixed—and a card of the Welsbury +Races, which were held on Monday. Of the five watches, one has been +identified as the one taken from Mr. Harewood; and the bank-notes have +been identified as a batch handed to him by the cashier of his bank at +Welsbury last Thursday and presumably carried in the leather wallet +which was stolen from his pocket. This wallet, by the way, has also +been found. It was picked up—empty—last night on the railway +embankment just outside Welsbury Station. Appearances thus suggest +that the man, Fletcher, when on his way to the races, encountered Mr. +Harewood in the lonely copse, and murdered and robbed him; or perhaps +found him dead in the chalk-pit and robbed the body—a question that +is now never likely to be solved.” +</p> + +<p> +As Marchmont finished reading, he looked up at Thorndyke. “It doesn’t +help us much, does it?” said he. “As the wallet was found empty, it is +pretty certain that the will has been destroyed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or perhaps merely thrown away,” said Thorndyke. “In which case an +advertisement offering a substantial reward may bring it to light.” +</p> + +<p> +The solicitor shrugged his shoulders sceptically, but agreed to +publish the advertisement. Then, once more he turned to go; and as Mr. +Crowhurst had no further information to give, he departed with his +lawyer. +</p> + +<p> +For some time after they had gone, Thorndyke sat with his brief notes +before him, silent and deeply reflective. I, too, maintained a +discreet silence, for I knew from long experience that the motionless +pose and quiet, impassive face were the outward signs of a mind in +swift and strenuous action. Instinctively, I gathered that this +apparently chaotic case was being quietly sorted out and arranged in a +logical order; that Thorndyke, like a skilful chess-player, was +“trying over the moves” before he should lay his hand upon the pieces. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he looked up. “Well?” he asked. “What do you think, Jervis? +Is it worth while?” +</p> + +<p> +“That,” I replied, “depends on whether the will is or is not in +existence. If it has been destroyed, an investigation would be a waste +of our time and our client’s money.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he agreed. “But there is quite a good chance that it has not +been destroyed. It was probably dropped loose into the wallet, and +then might have been picked out and thrown away before the wallet was +examined. But we mustn’t concentrate too much on the will. If we take +up the case—which I am inclined to do—we must ascertain the actual +sequence of events. We have one clear day before the inquest. If we +run down to Merbridge to-morrow and go thoroughly over the ground, and +then go on to Barwood and find out all that we can about the man +Fletcher, we may get some new light from the evidence at the inquest.” +</p> + +<p> +I agreed readily to Thorndyke’s proposal, not that I could see any way +into the case, but I felt a conviction that my colleague had isolated +some leading fact and had a definite line of research in his mind. And +this conviction deepened when, later in the evening, he laid his +research case on the table and rearranged its contents with evident +purpose. I watched curiously the apparatus that he was packing in it +and tried—not very successfully—to infer the nature of the proposed +investigation. The box of powdered paraffin wax and the spirit +blowpipe were obvious enough; but the “dust-aspirator”—a sort of +miniature vacuum cleaner—the portable microscope, the coil of Manila +line, with an eye spliced into one end, and especially the abundance +of blank-labelled microscope slides, all of which I saw him pack in +the case with deliberate care, defeated me utterly. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +About ten o’clock on the following morning we stepped from the train +in Welsbury Station, and having recovered our bicycles from the +luggage van, wheeled them through the barrier and mounted. During the +train journey we had both studied the one-inch Ordnance map to such +purpose that we were virtually in familiar surroundings and immune +from the necessity of seeking directions from the natives. As we +cleared the town we glanced up the broad by-road to the left which led +to the race-course; then we rode on briskly for a mile, which brought +us to the spot where the footpath to Merbridge joined the road. Here +we dismounted and, lifting our bicycles over the stile, followed the +path towards a small wood which we could see ahead, crowning a low +hill. +</p> + +<p> +“For such a good path,” Thorndyke remarked as we approached the wood, +“it is singularly unfrequented. I haven’t seen a soul since we left +the road.” He glanced at the map as the path entered the wood, and +when we had walked on a couple of hundred yards, he halted and stood +his bicycle against a tree. “The chalk-pit should be about here,” said +he, “though it is impossible to see.” He grasped a stem of one of the +small bushes that crowded on to the path and pulled it aside. Then he +uttered an exclamation. +</p> + +<p> +“Just look at that, Jervis. It is a positive scandal that a public +path should be left in this condition.” +</p> + +<p> +Certainly Mr. Crowhurst had not exaggerated. It was a most dangerous +place. The parted branches revealed a chasm some thirty feet deep, the +brink of which, masked by the bushes, was but a matter of inches from +the edge of the path. +</p> + +<p> +“We had better go back,” said Thorndyke, “and find the entrance to the +pit, which seems to be to the right. The first thing is to ascertain +exactly where Harewood fell. Then we can come back and examine the +place from above.” +</p> + +<p> +We turned back, and presently found a faint track, which we followed +until, descending steeply, it brought us out into the middle of the +pit. It was evidently an ancient pit, for the sides were blackened by +age, and the floor was occupied by a number of trees, some of +considerable size. Against one of these we leaned our bicycles and +then walked slowly round at the foot of the frowning cliff. +</p> + +<p> +“This seems to be below the path,” said Thorndyke, glancing up at the +grey wall which jutted out above in stages like an inverted flight of +steps. “Somewhere hereabouts we should find some traces of the +tragedy.” +</p> + +<p> +Even as he spoke my eye caught a spot of white on a block of chalk, +and on the freshly fractured surface a significant brownish-red stain. +The block lay opposite the mouth of an artificial cave—an old +wagon-shelter, but now empty—and immediately under a markedly +overhanging part of the cliff. +</p> + +<p> +“This is undoubtedly the place where he fell,” said Thorndyke. “You +can see where the stretcher was placed—an old-pattern stretcher with +wheel-runners—and there is a little spot of broken soil at the top +where he came over. Well, apart from the robbery, a clear fall of over +thirty feet is enough to account for a fractured skull. Will you stay +here, Jervis, while I run up and look at the path?” +</p> + +<p> +He went off towards the entrance, and presently I heard him above, +pulling aside the bushes, and after one or two trials, he appeared +directly overhead. +</p> + +<p> +“There are plenty of footprints on the path,” said he, “but nothing +abnormal. No trampling or signs of a struggle. I am going on a little +farther.” +</p> + +<p> +He withdrew behind the bushes, and I proceeded to inspect the interior +of the cave, noting the smoke-blackened roof and the remains of a +recent fire, which, with a number of rabbit bones and a discarded +tea-boiler of the kind used by the professional tramp, seemed not +without a possible bearing on our investigation. I was thus engaged +when I heard Thorndyke hail me from above, and coming out of the cave, +I saw his head thrust between the branches. He seemed to be lying +down, for his face was nearly on a level with the top of the cliff. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to take an impression,” he called out. “Will you bring up the +paraffin and the blower? And you might bring the coil of line, too.” +</p> + +<p> +I hurried away to the place where our bicycles were standing, and +opening the research case, took out the coil of line, the tin of +paraffin wax and the spirit blowpipe, and having ascertained that the +container of the latter was full, I ran up the incline and made my way +along the path. Some distance along, I found my colleague nearly +hidden in the bushes, lying prone, with his head over the edge of the +cliff. +</p> + +<p> +“You see, Jervis,” he said as I crawled alongside and looked over, +“this is a possible way down, and some one has used it quite recently. +He climbed down with his face to the cliff—you can see the clear +impression of the toe of a boot in the loam on that projection, and +you can even make out the shape of an iron toe-tip. Now the problem is +how to get down to take the impression without dislodging the earth +above it. I think I will secure myself with the line.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is hardly worth the risk of a broken neck,” said I. “Probably the +print is that of some schoolboy.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a man’s foot,” he replied. “Most likely it has no connection +with our case. But it may have, and as a shower of rain would +obliterate it we ought to secure it.” As he spoke, he passed the end +of the cord through the eye and slipped the loop over his shoulders, +drawing it tight under his arms. Then, having made the line fast to +the butt of a small tree, he cautiously lowered himself over the edge +and climbed down to the projection. As soon as he had a secure +footing, I passed the spare cord through the ring on the lid of the +wax tin and lowered it to him, and when he had unfastened it, I drew +up the cord and in the same way let down the blowpipe. Then I watched +his neat, methodical procedure. First he took out a spoonful of the +powdered, or grated, wax and very delicately sprinkled it on the +toe-print until the latter was evenly but very thinly covered. Next he +lit the blow-lamp, and as soon as the blue flame began to roar from +the pipe, he directed it on to the toe-print. Almost instantly the +powder melted, glazing the impression like a coat of varnish. Then the +flame was removed and the film of wax at once solidified and became +dull and opaque. A second, heavier sprinkling with the powder, +followed by another application of the flame, thickened the film of +wax, and this process, repeated four or five times, eventually +produced a solid cake. Then Thorndyke extinguished the blow-lamp, and +securing it and the tin to the cord, directed me to pull them up. “And +you might send me down the field-glasses,” he added. “There is +something farther down that I can’t quite make out.” +</p> + +<p> +I slipped the glasses from my shoulder, and opening the case, tied the +cord to the leather sling and lowered it down the cliff; and then I +watched with some curiosity as Thorndyke stood on his insecure perch +steadily gazing through the glasses (they were Zeiss 8-prismatics) at +a clump of wallflowers that grew from a boss of chalk about half-way +down. Presently he lowered the glasses and, slinging them round his +neck by their lanyard, turned his attention to the cake of wax. It was +by this time quite solid, and when he had tested it, he lifted it +carefully and placed it in the empty binocular case, when I drew it +up. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you, Jervis,” Thorndyke called up, “to steady the line. I am +going down to that wallflower clump.” +</p> + +<p> +It looked extremely unsafe, but I knew it was useless to protest, so I +hitched the line around a massive stump and took a firm grip of the +“fall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ready,” I sang out; and forthwith Thorndyke began to creep across the +face of the cliff with feet and hands clinging to almost invisible +projections. Fortunately, there was at this part no overhang, and +though my heart was in my mouth as I watched, I saw him cross the +perilous space in safety. Arrived at the clump, he drew an envelope +from his pocket, stooped and picked up some small object, which he +placed in the envelope, returning the latter to his pocket. Then he +gave me another bad five minutes while he recrossed the nearly +vertical surface to his starting-point; but at length this, too, was +safely accomplished, and when he finally climbed up over the edge and +stood beside me on solid earth, I drew a deep breath and turned to +revile him. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I demanded sarcastically, “what have you gathered at the risk +of your neck? Is it samphire or edelweiss?” +</p> + +<p> +He drew the envelope from his pocket, and dipping into it, produced a +cigarette-holder—a cheap bone affair, black and clammy with long +service and still holding the butt of a hand-made cigarette—and +handed it to me. I turned it over, smelled it and hastily handed it +back. “For my part,” said I, “I wouldn’t have risked the cervical +vertebrae of a yellow cat for it. What do you expect to learn from +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, I expect nothing. We are just collecting facts on the +chance that they may turn out to be relevant. Here, for instance, we +find that a man has descended, within a few yards of where Harewood +fell, by this very inconvenient route, instead of going round to the +entrance to the pit. He must have had some reason for adopting this +undesirable mode of descent. Possibly, he was in a hurry, and probably +he belonged to the district, since a stranger would not know of the +existence of this short cut. Then it seems likely that this was his +cigarette tube. If you look over, you will see by those vertical +scrapes on the chalk that he slipped and must have nearly fallen. At +that moment he probably dropped the tube, for you notice that the +wallflower clump is directly under the marks of his toes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you suppose he did not recover the tube?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because the descent slopes away from the position of the clump, and +he had no trusty Jervis with a stout cord to help him to cross the +space. And if he went down this way because he was hurried, he would +not have time to search for the tube. But if the tube was not his, +still it belonged to somebody who has been here recently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there anything that leads you to connect this man with the crime?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing but time and place,” he replied. “The man has been down into +the pit close to where Harewood was robbed and possibly murdered, and +as the traces are quite recent, he must have been there near about the +time of the robbery. That is all. I am considering the traces of this +man in particular because there are no traces of any other. But we may +as well have a look at the path, which, as you see, yields good +impressions.” +</p> + +<p> +We walked slowly along the path towards Merbridge, keeping at the +edges and scrutinizing the surface closely. In the shady hollows, the +soft loam bore prints of many feet, and among them we could +distinguish one with an iron toe-tip, but it was nearly obliterated by +another studded with hob-nails. +</p> + +<p> +“We shan’t get much information here,” said Thorndyke as he turned +about. “The search party have trodden out the important prints. Let us +see if we can find out where the man with the toe-tips went to.” +</p> + +<p> +We searched the path on the Welsbury side of the chalk-pit, but found +no trace of him. Then we went into the pit, and having located the +place where he descended, sought for some other exit than the track +leading to the path. Presently, half-way up the slope, we found a +second track, bearing away in the direction of Merbridge. Following +this for some distance, we came to a small hollow at the bottom of +which was a muddy space. And here we both halted abruptly, for in the +damp ground were the clear imprints of a pair of boots which we could +see had, in addition to the toe-tips, half-tips to the heels. +</p> + +<p> +“We had better have wax casts of these,” said Thorndyke, “to compare +with the boots of the man Fletcher. I will do them while you go back +for the bicycles.” +</p> + +<p> +By the time that I returned with the machines two of the footprints +were covered with a cake each of wax, and Thorndyke had left the track +and was peering among the bushes. I inquired what he was looking for. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a forlorn hope, as Marchmont would say,” he replied, “but I am +looking to see if the will has been thrown away here. It was quite +probably jettisoned at once, and this is the most probable route for +the robber to have taken, if he knew of it. You see by the map that it +must lead nearly directly to the race-course, and it avoids both the +path and the main road. While the wax is setting we might as well look +round.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed a hopeless enough proceeding and I agreed to it without +enthusiasm. Leaving the track on the opposite side to that which +Thorndyke was searching, I wandered among the bushes and the little +open spaces, peering about me and reminding myself of that “aged, aged +man” who +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Sometimes searched the grassy knolls,</span><br> +<span class="i0">For wheels of hansom cabs.”</span> +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +I had worked my way nearly back to where I could see Thorndyke, also +returning, when my glance fell on a small, brown object caught among +the branches of a bush. It was a man’s pigskin purse; and as I picked +it out of the bush I saw that it was open and empty. +</p> + +<p> +With my prize in my hand, I hastened to the spot where Thorndyke was +lifting the wax casts. He looked up and asked, “No luck, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +I held out the purse, on which he pounced eagerly. “But this is most +important, Jervis,” he exclaimed. “It is almost certainly Harewood’s +purse. You see the initials, ‘J.H.,’ stamped on the flap. Then we were +right as to the direction that the robber took. And it would pay to +search this place exhaustively for the will, though we can’t do that +now, as we have to go on to Barwood. I wrote to say we were coming. We +had better get back to the path now and make for the road. Barwood is +only half an hour’s run.” +</p> + +<p> +We packed the casts in the research case (which was strapped to +Thorndyke’s bicycle), and turning back, made our way to the path. As +it was still deserted, we ventured to mount, and soon reached the +road, along which we started at a good pace towards Barwood. +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour’s ride brought us into the main street of the little +town, and when we dismounted at the police station we found the Chief +Constable himself waiting to receive us, courteously eager to assist +us, but possessed by a devouring curiosity which was somewhat +inconvenient. +</p> + +<p> +“I have done as you asked me in your letter, sir,” he said. +“Fletcher’s body is, of course, in the mortuary, but I have had all +his clothes and effects brought here; and I have had them put in my +private office, so that you can look them over in comfort.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is exceedingly good of you,” said Thorndyke, “and most helpful.” +He unstrapped the research case, and following the officer into his +sanctum, looked round with deep approval. A large table had been +cleared for the examination, and the dead pickpocket’s clothes and +effects neatly arranged at one end. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke’s first proceeding was to pick up the dead man’s boots—a +smart but flimsy pair of light brown leather, rather down at heel and +in need of re-soling. Neither toes nor heels bore any tips or even +nails excepting the small fastening brads. Having exhibited them to me +without remark, Thorndyke placed them on a sheet of white paper and +made a careful tracing of the soles, a proceeding that seemed to +surprise the Chief Constable, for he remarked, “I should hardly have +thought that the question of footprints would arise in this case. You +can’t charge a dead man.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke agreed that this seemed to be true; and then he proceeded to +an operation that fairly made the officer’s eyes bulge. Opening the +research case—into which the officer cast an inquisitive glance—he +took out the dust-aspirator, the nozzle of which he inserted into one +after another of the dead thief’s pockets while I worked the pump. +When he had gone through them all, he opened the receiver and +extracted quite a considerable ball of dusty fluff. Placing this on a +glass slide, he tore it in halves with a pair of mounted needles and +passed one half to me, when we both fell to work “teasing” it out into +an open mesh, portions of which we separated and laid—each in a tiny +pool of glycerine—on blank-labelled glass slides, applying to each +slide its cover-glass and writing on the label, “Dust from Fletcher’s +pockets.” +</p> + +<p> +When the series was complete, Thorndyke brought out the microscope, +and fitting on a one-inch objective, quickly examined the slides, one +after another, and then pushed the microscope to me. So far as I could +see, the dust was just ordinary dust—principally made up of broken +cotton fibres with a few fibres of wool, linen, wood, jute, and others +that I could not name and some undistinguishable mineral particles. +But I made no comment, and resigning the microscope to the Chief +Constable—who glared through it, breathing hard, and remarked that +the dust was “rummy-looking stuff”—watched Thorndyke’s further +proceedings. And very odd proceedings they were. +</p> + +<p> +First he laid the five stolen watches in a row, and with a Coddington +lens minutely examined the dial of each. Then he opened the back of +each in turn and copied into his notebook the watch-repairers’ +scratched inscriptions. Next he produced from the case a number of +little vulcanite rods, and laying out five labelled slides, dropped a +tiny drop of glycerine on each, covering it at once with a watch-glass +to protect it from falling dust. Then he stuck a little label on each +watch, wrote a number on it and similarly numbered the five slides. +His next proceeding was to take out the glass of watch No. 1 and pick +up one of the vulcanite rods, which he rubbed briskly on a silk +handkerchief and passed slowly across and around the dial of the +watch, after which he held the rod close to the glycerine on slide No. +1 and tapped it sharply with the blade of his pocket-knife. Then he +dropped a cover-glass on to the glycerine and made a rapid inspection +of the specimen through the microscope. +</p> + +<p> +This operation he repeated on the other four watches, using a fresh +rod for each, and when he had finished he turned to the open-mouthed +officer. “I take it,” said he, “that the watch which has the chain +attached to it is Mr. Harewood’s watch?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. That helped us to identify it.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at the watch reflectively. Attached to the bow by a +short length of green tape was a small, rather elaborate key. This my +friend picked up, and taking a fresh mounted needle, inserted it into +the barrel of the key, from which he then withdrew it with a tiny ball +of fluff on its point. I hastily prepared a slide and handed it to +him, when, with a pair of dissecting scissors, he cut off a piece of +the fluff and let it fall into the glycerine. He repeated this +manœuvre with two more slides and then labelled the three, “Key, +outside,” “middle” and “inside,” and in that order examined them under +the microscope. +</p> + +<p> +My own examination of the specimens yielded very little. They all +seemed to be common dust, though that from the face of watch No. 3 +contained a few broken fragments of what looked like animal +hairs—possibly cat’s—as also did the key-fluff marked “outside.” But +if this had any significance, I could not guess what it was. As to the +Chief Constable, he clearly looked on the whole proceeding as a sort +of legerdemain with no obvious purpose, for he remarked, as we were +packing up to go, “I am glad I’ve seen how you do it, sir. But all the +same, I think you are flogging a dead horse. We know who committed the +crime and we know he’s beyond the reach of the law.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “one must earn one’s fee, you know. I shall +put Fletcher’s boots and the five watches in evidence at the inquest +to-morrow, and I will ask you to leave the labels on the watches.” +</p> + +<p> +With renewed thanks and a hearty handshake he bade the courteous +officer adieu, and we rode off to catch the train to London. +</p> + +<p> +That evening, after dinner, we brought out the specimens and went over +them at our leisure; and Thorndyke added a further specimen by drawing +a knotted piece of twine through the cigarette-holder that he had +salved from the chalk-pit, and teasing out the unsavoury, black +substance that came out on the string in glycerine on a slide. When he +had examined it, he passed it to me. The dark, tarry liquid somewhat +obscured the detail, but I could make out fragments of the same animal +hairs that I had noted in the other specimens, only here they were +much more numerous. I mentioned my observation to Thorndyke. “They are +certainly parts of mammalian hairs,” I said, “and they look like the +hairs of a cat. Are they from a cat?” +</p> + +<p> +“Rabbit,” Thorndyke replied curtly; and even then, I am ashamed to +admit, I did not perceive the drift of the investigation. +</p> + +<p class="mt1"> +The room in the Welsbury Town Hall had filled up some minutes before +the time fixed for the opening of the inquest, and in the interval, +when the jury had retired to view the body in the adjacent mortuary, I +looked round the assembly. Mr. Marchmont and Mr. Crowhurst were +present, and a youngish, horsey-looking man in cord breeches and +leggings, whom I correctly guessed to be Arthur Baxfield. Our friend +the Chief Constable of Barwood was also there, and with him Thorndyke +exchanged a few words in a retired corner. The rest of the company +were strangers. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the coroner and the jury had taken their places the medical +witness was called. The cause of death, he stated, was dislocation of +the neck, accompanied by a depressed fracture of the skull. The +fracture might have been produced by a blow with a heavy, blunt +weapon, or by the deceased falling on his head. The witness adopted +the latter view, as the dislocation showed that deceased had fallen in +that manner. +</p> + +<p> +The next witness was Mr. Crowhurst, who repeated to the Court what he +had told us, and further stated that on leaving deceased’s house he +went straight home, as he had an appointment with a friend. He was +followed by Baxfield, who gave evidence to the same effect, and stated +that on leaving the house of deceased he went to his place of business +at Welsbury. He was about to retire when Thorndyke rose to +cross-examine. +</p> + +<p> +“At what time did you reach your place of business?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +The witness hesitated for a few moments and then replied, “Half-past +four.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what time did you leave deceased’s house?” +</p> + +<p> +“Two o’clock,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the distance?” +</p> + +<p> +“In a direct line, about two miles. But I didn’t go direct. I took a +round in the country by Lenfield.” +</p> + +<p> +“That would take you near the race-course on the way back. Did you go +to the races?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. The races were just over when I returned.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a slight pause and then Thorndyke asked, “Do you smoke much, +Mr. Baxfield?” +</p> + +<p> +The witness looked surprised, and so did the jury, but the former +replied, “A fair amount. About fifteen cigarettes a day.” +</p> + +<p> +“What brand of cigarettes do you smoke, and what kind of tobacco is +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I make my own cigarettes. I make them of shag.” +</p> + +<p> +Here protesting murmurs arose from the jury, and the coroner remarked +stiffly, “These questions do not appear to have much connection with +the subject of this inquiry.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may take it, sir,” replied Thorndyke, “that they have a very +direct bearing on it.” Then, turning to the witness he asked, “Do you +use a cigarette-tube?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes I do,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you lost a cigarette-tube lately?” +</p> + +<p> +The witness directed a startled glance at Thorndyke and replied after +some hesitation, “I believe I mislaid one a little time ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“When and where did you lose that tube?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I—I really couldn’t say,” replied Baxfield, turning perceptibly +pale. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke opened his dispatch box, and taking out the tube that he had +salved at so much risk, handed it to the witness. “Is that the tube +that you lost?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +At this question Baxfield turned pale as death, and the hand in which +he received the tube shook as if with a palsy. “It may be,” he +faltered. “I wouldn’t swear to it. It is like the one I lost.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke took it from him and passed it to the coroner. “I am putting +this tube in evidence, sir,” said he. Then, addressing the witness, he +said, “You stated that you did not go to the races. Did you go on the +course or inside the grounds at all?” +</p> + +<p> +Baxfield moistened his lips and replied, “I just went in for a minute +or two, but I didn’t stay. The races were over, and there was a very +rough crowd.” +</p> + +<p> +“While you were in that crowd, Mr. Baxfield, did you have your pocket +picked?” +</p> + +<p> +There was an expectant silence in the Court as Baxfield replied in a +low voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I lost my watch.” +</p> + +<p> +Again Thorndyke opened the dispatch box, and taking out a watch (it +was the one that had been labelled 3), handed it to the witness. “Is +that the watch that you lost?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Baxfield held the watch in his trembling hand and replied +hesitatingly, “I believe it is, but I won’t swear to it.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a pause. Then, in grave, impressive tones, Thorndyke said, +“Now, Mr. Baxfield, I am going to ask you a question which you need +not answer if you consider that by doing so you would prejudice your +position in any way. That question is, When your pocket was picked, +were any articles besides this watch taken from your person? Don’t +hurry. Consider your answer carefully.” +</p> + +<p> +For some moments Baxfield remained silent, regarding Thorndyke with a +wild, affrighted stare. At length he began falteringly, “I don’t +remember missing anything——” and then stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Could the witness be allowed to sit down, sir?” Thorndyke asked. And +when the permission had been given and a chair placed, Baxfield sat +down heavily and cast a bewildered glance round the Court. “I think,” +he said, addressing Thorndyke, “I had better tell you exactly what +happened and take my chance of the consequences. When I left my +uncle’s house on Monday, I took a circuit through the fields and then +entered Gilbert’s Copse to wait for my uncle and tell him what I +thought of his conduct in leaving the bulk of his property to a +stranger. I struck the path that I knew my uncle would take and walked +along it slowly to meet him. I did meet him—on the path, just above +where he was found—and I began to say what was in my mind. But he +wouldn’t listen. He flew into a rage, and as I was standing in the +middle of the path, he tried to push past me. In doing so he caught +his foot in a bramble and staggered back, then he disappeared through +the bushes and a few seconds after I heard a thud down below. I pulled +the bushes aside and looked down into the chalk-pit, and there I saw +him lying with his head all on one side. Now, I happened to know of a +short cut down into the pit. It was rather a dangerous climb, but I +took it to get down as quickly as possible. It was there that I +dropped the cigarette-tube. When I got to my uncle I could see that he +was dead. His skull was battered and his neck was broken. Then the +devil put into my head the idea of making away with the will. But I +knew that if I took the will only, suspicion would fall on me. So I +took most of his valuables—the wallet, his watch and chain, his purse +and his ring. The purse I emptied and threw away, and flung the ring +after it. I took the will out of the wallet—it had just been dropped +in loose—and put it in an inner pocket. Then I dropped the wallet and +the watch and chain into my outside coat pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“I struck across country, intending to make for the race-course and +drop the things among the crowd, so that they might be picked up and +safely carried away. But when I got there a gang of pickpockets saved +me the trouble; they mobbed and hustled me and cleared my pockets of +everything but my keys and the will.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what has become of the will?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“I have it here.” He dipped into his breast pocket and produced a +folded paper, which he handed to Thorndyke, who opened it, and having +glanced at it, passed it to the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +That was practically the end of the inquest. The jury decided to +accept Baxfield’s statement and recorded a verdict of “Death by +Misadventure,” leaving Baxfield to be dealt with by the proper +authorities. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“An interesting and eminently satisfactory case,” remarked Thorndyke, +as we sat over a rather late dinner. “Essentially simple, too. The +elucidation turned, as you probably noticed, on a single illuminating +fact.” +</p> + +<p> +“I judged that it was so,” said I, “though the illumination of that +fact has not yet reached me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “let us first take the general aspect of the +case as it was presented by Marchmont. The first thing, of course, +that struck one was that the loss of the will might easily have +converted Baxfield from a minor beneficiary to the sole heir. But even +if the Court agreed to recognize the will, it would have to be guided +by the statements of the only two men to whom its provisions were even +approximately known, and Baxfield could have made any statement he +pleased. It was impossible to ignore the fact that the loss of the +will was very greatly to Baxfield’s advantage. +</p> + +<p> +“When the stolen property was discovered in Fletcher’s possession it +looked, at the first glance, as if the mystery of the crime was +solved. But there were several serious inconsistencies. First, how +came Fletcher to be in this solitary wood, remote from any railway or +even road? He appeared to be a London pickpocket. When he was killed +he was travelling to London by train. It seemed probable that he had +come from London by train to ply his trade at the races. Then, as you +know, criminological experience shows that the habitual criminal is a +rigid specialist. The burglar, the coiner, the pickpocket, each keeps +strictly to his own special line. Now, Fletcher was a pickpocket, and +had evidently been picking pockets on the race-course. The +probabilities were against his being the original robber and in favour +of his having picked the pocket of the person who robbed Harewood. But +if this were so, who was that person? Once more the probabilities +suggested Baxfield. There was the motive, as I have said, and further, +the pocket-picking had apparently taken place on the race-course, and +Baxfield was known to be a frequenter of race-courses. But again, if +Baxfield were the person robbed by Fletcher, then one of the five +watches was probably Baxfield’s watch. Whether it was so or not might +have been very difficult to prove, but here came in the single +illuminating fact that I have spoken of. +</p> + +<p> +“You remember that when Marchmont opened the case he mentioned that +Baxfield was a manufacturer of felt hats, and Crowhurst told us that +he was a sort of foreman or manager of the factory.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I remember, now you speak of it. But what is the bearing of the +fact?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Jervis!” exclaimed Thorndyke. “Don’t you see that it gave us +a touchstone? Consider, now. What is a felt hat? It is just a mass of +agglutinated rabbits’ hair. The process of manufacture consists in +blowing a jet of the more or less disintegrated hair on to a revolving +steel cone which is moistened by a spray of an alcoholic solution of +shellac. But, of course, a quantity of the finer and more minute +particles of the broken hairs miss the cone and float about in the +air. The air of the factory is thus charged with the dust of broken +rabbit hairs; and this dust settles on and penetrates the clothing of +the workers. But when clothing becomes charged with dust, that dust +tends to accumulate in the pockets and find its way into the hollows +and interstices of any objects carried in those pockets. Thus, if one +of the five watches was Baxfield’s it would almost certainly show +traces where this characteristic dust had crept under the bezel and +settled on the dial. And so it turned out to be. When I inspected +those five watches through the Coddington lens, on the dial of No. 3 +I saw a quantity of dust of this character. The electrified vulcanite +rod picked it all up neatly and transferred it to the slide, and under +the microscope its nature was obvious. The owner of this watch was +therefore, almost certainly, employed in a felt hat factory. But, of +course, it was necessary to show not only the presence of rabbit hair +in this watch, but its absence in the others and in Fletcher’s +pockets, which I did. +</p> + +<p> +“Then with regard to Harewood’s watch. There was no rabbit hair on the +dial, but there was a small quantity on the fluff from the key barrel. +Now, if that rabbit-hair had come from Harewood’s pocket it would have +been uniformly distributed through the fluff. But it was not. It was +confined exclusively to the part of the fluff that was exposed. Thus +it had come from some pocket other than Harewood’s, and the owner of +that pocket was almost certainly employed in a felt hat factory, and +was most probably the owner of watch No. 3. +</p> + +<p> +“Then there was the cigarette-tube. Its bore was loaded with rabbit +hair. But its owner had unquestionably been at the scene of the crime. +There was a clear suggestion that his was the pocket in which the +stolen watch had been carried and that he was the owner of watch No. +3. The problem was to piece this evidence together and prove +definitely who this person was. And that I was able to do by means of +a fresh item of evidence, which I acquired when I saw Baxfield at the +inquest. I suppose you noticed his boots?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid I didn’t,” I had to admit. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I did. I watched his feet constantly, and when he crossed his +legs I could see that he had iron toe-tips on his boots. That was what +gave me confidence to push the cross-examination.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was certainly a rather daring cross-examination—and rather +irregular, too,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“It was extremely irregular,” Thorndyke agreed. “The coroner ought not +to have permitted it. But it was all for the best. If the coroner had +disallowed my questions we should have had to take criminal +proceedings against Baxfield, whereas now that we have recovered the +will, it is possible that no one will trouble to prosecute him.” +</p> + +<p> +Which, I subsequently ascertained, is what actually happened. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch05"> +V.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A FISHER OF MEN</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">The</span> man,” observed Thorndyke, “who would successfully practice the +scientific detection of crime must take all knowledge for his +province. There is no single fact which may not, in particular +circumstances, acquire a high degree of evidential value; and in such +circumstances, success or failure is determined by the possession or +non-possession of the knowledge wherewith to interpret the +significance of that fact.” +</p> + +<p> +This <i>obiter dictum</i> was thrown off apropos of our investigation of +the case rather magniloquently referred to in the press as “The Blue +Diamond Mystery”; and more particularly of an incident which occurred +in the office of our old friend, Superintendent Miller, at Scotland +Yard. Thorndyke had called to verify the few facts which had been +communicated to him, and having put away his notebook and picked up +his green canvas-covered research case, had risen to take his leave, +when his glance fell on a couple of objects on a side-table—a leather +handbag and a walking-stick, lashed together with string, to which was +attached a descriptive label. +</p> + +<p> +He regarded them for a few moments reflectively and then glanced at +the Superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“Derelicts?” he inquired, “or jetsam?” +</p> + +<p> +“Jetsam,” the Superintendent replied, “literally jetsam—thrown +overboard to lighten the ship.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Inspector Badger, who had been a party to the conference, looked +up eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he broke in. “Perhaps the doctor wouldn’t mind having a look at +them. It’s quite a nice little problem, Doctor, and entirely in your +line.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the problem?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s just this,” said Badger. “Here is a bag. Now the question is, +Whose bag is it? What sort of person is the owner? Where did he come +from and where has he gone to?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke chuckled. “That seems quite simple,” said he. “A cursory +inspection ought to dispose of trivial details like those. But how did +you come by the bag?” +</p> + +<p> +“The history of the derelicts,” said Miller, “is this: About four +o’clock this morning, a constable on duty in King’s Road, Chelsea, saw +a man walking on the opposite side of the road, carrying a hand-bag. +There was nothing particularly suspicious in this, but still the +constable thought he would cross and have a closer look at him. As he +did so the man quickened his pace and, of course, the constable +quickened his. Then the man broke into a run, and so did the +constable, and a fine, stern chase started. Suddenly the man shot down +a by-street, and as the constable turned the corner he saw his quarry +turn into a sort of alley. Following him into this, and gaining on him +perceptibly, he saw that the alley ended in a rather high wall. When +the fugitive reached the wall he dropped his bag and stick and went +over like a harlequin. The constable went over after him, but not like +a harlequin—he wasn’t dressed for the part. By the time he got over, +into a large garden with a lot of fruit trees in it, my nabs had +disappeared. He traced him by his footprints across the garden to +another wall, and when he climbed over that he found himself in +another by-street. But there was no sign of our agile friend. The +constable ran up and down the street to the next crossings, blowing +his whistle, but of course it was no go. So he went back across the +garden and secured the bag and stick, which were at once sent here for +examination.” +</p> + +<p> +“And no arrest has been made?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” replied Miller with a faint grin, “a constable in Oakley +Street who had heard the whistle arrested a man who was carrying a +suspicious-looking object. But he turned out to be a cornet player +coming home from the theatre.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” said Thorndyke. “And now let us have a look at the bag, which +I take it has already been examined?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we’ve been through it,” replied Miller, “but everything has been +put back as we found it.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke picked up the bag and proceeded to make a systematic +inspection of its exterior. +</p> + +<p> +“A good bag,” he commented; “quite an expensive one originally, though +it has seen a good deal of service. You noticed the muddy marks on the +bottom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Miller. “Those were probably made when he dropped the bag +to jump over the wall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” said Thorndyke, “though they don’t look like street mud. +But we shall probably get more information from the contents.” He +opened the bag, and after a glance at its interior, spread out on the +table a couple of sheets of foolscap from the stationery rack, on +which he began methodically to deposit the contents of the bag, +accompanying the process with a sort of running commentary on their +obvious characteristics. +</p> + +<p> +“Item one: a small leather dressing wallet. Rather shabby, but +originally of excellent quality. It contains two Swedish razors, a +little Washita hone, a diminutive strop, a folding shaving-brush, +which is slightly damp to the fingers and has a scent similar to that +of the stick of shaving soap. You notice that the hone is distinctly +concave in the middle and that the inscription on the razors, +‘Arensburg, Eskilstuna, Sweden,’ is partly ground away. Then there is +a box containing a very dry cake of soap, a little manicure set, a +well-worn toothbrush, a nailbrush, dental-brush, button-hook, +corn-razor, a small clothes-brush and a pair of small hairbrushes. It +seems to me, Badger, that this wallet suggests—mind, I only say +‘suggests’—a pretty complete answer to one of your questions.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see how,” said the Inspector. “Tell us what it suggests to +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“It suggests to me,” replied Thorndyke, laying down the lens through +which he had been inspecting the hairbrushes, “a middle-aged or +elderly man with a shaven upper lip and a beard; a well-preserved, +healthy man, neat, orderly, provident and careful as to his +appearance; a man long habituated to travelling, and—though I don’t +insist on this, but the appearances suggest that he had been living +for some time in a particular household, and that at the time when he +lost the bag, he was changing his residence.” +</p> + +<p> +“He was that,” cackled the Inspector, “if the constable’s account of +the way he went over that wall is to be trusted. But still, I don’t +see how you have arrived at all those facts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not facts, Badger,” Thorndyke corrected. “I said suggestions. And +those suggestions may be quite misleading. There may be some factor, +such as change of ownership of the wallet, which we have not allowed +for. But, taking the appearances at their face value, that is what +they suggest. There is the wallet itself, for instance—strong, +durable, but shabby with years of wear. And observe that it is a +travelling wallet and would be subjected to wear only during travel. +Then further, as to the time factor, there are the hone and the +razors. It takes a good many years to wear a Washita hone hollow or to +wear away the blade of a Swedish razor until the maker’s mark is +encroached on. The state of health, and to some extent the age, are +suggested by the toothbrush and the dental-brush. He has lost some +teeth, since he wears a plate, but not many; and he is free from +pyorrhea and alveolar absorption. You don’t wear a toothbrush down +like this on half a dozen rickety survivors. But a man whose teeth +will bear hard brushing is probably well-preserved and healthy.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say that he shaves his upper lip but wears a beard,” said the +Inspector. “How do you arrive at that?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is fairly obvious,” replied Thorndyke. “We see that he has razors +and uses them, and we also see that he has a beard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do we?” exclaimed Badger. “How do we?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke delicately picked a hair from one of the hairbrushes and +held it up. “That is not a scalp hair,” said he. “I should say that it +came from the side of the chin.” +</p> + +<p> +Badger regarded the hair with evident disfavour. “Looks to me,” he +remarked, “as if a small-tooth comb might have been useful.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed, “but the appearance is deceptive. This is +what is called a moniliform hair—like a string of beads. But the +bead-like swellings are really parts of the hair. It is a diseased, or +perhaps we should say an abnormal, condition.” He handed me the hair +together with his lens, through which I examined it and easily +recognized the characteristic swellings. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said I, “it is an early case of <i>trichorrexis nodosa</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good Lord!” murmured the Inspector. “Sounds like a Russian nobleman. +Is it a common complaint?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not a rare disease—if you can call it a disease,” I replied, +“but it is a rare condition, taking the population as a whole.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is rather a remarkable coincidence that it should happen to occur +in this particular case,” the Superintendent observed. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Miller,” exclaimed Thorndyke, “surely your experience must +have impressed on you the astonishing frequency of the unusual and the +utter failure of the mathematical laws of probability in practice. +Believe me, Miller, the Bread-and-butterfly was right. It is the +exceptional that always happens.” +</p> + +<p> +Having discharged this paradox, he once more dived into the bag, and +this time handed out a singular and rather unsavoury-looking parcel, +the outer investment of which was formed by what looked like an +excessively dirty towel, but which, as Thorndyke delicately unrolled +it, was seen to be only half a towel which was supplemented by a still +dirtier and excessively ragged coloured handkerchief. This, too, being +opened out, disclosed an extremely soiled and frayed collar (which, +like the other articles, bore no name or mark), and a mass of grass, +evidently used as packing material. +</p> + +<p> +The Inspector picked up the collar and quoted reflectively, “He is a +man, neat, orderly and careful as to his appearance,” after which he +dropped the collar and ostentatiously wiped his fingers. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke smiled grimly but refrained from repartee as he carefully +separated the grass from the contained objects, which turned out to be +a small telescopic jemmy, a jointed auger, a screwdriver and a bunch +of skeleton keys. +</p> + +<p> +“One understands his unwillingness to encounter the constable with +these rather significant objects in his possession,” Thorndyke +remarked. “They would have been difficult to explain away.” He took up +the heap of grass between his hands and gently compressed it to test +its freshness. As he did so a tiny, cigar-shaped object dropped on the +paper. +</p> + +<p> +“What is that?” asked the Superintendent. “It looks like a chrysalis.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t,” said Thorndyke. “It is a shell, a species of Clausilia, I +think.” He picked up the little shell and closely examined its mouth +through his lens. “Yes,” he continued, “it is a Clausilia. Do you +study our British mollusca, Badger?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t,” the Inspector replied with emphasis. +</p> + +<p> +“Pity,” murmured Thorndyke. “If you did, you would be interested to +learn that the name of this little shell is <i>Clausilia biplicata</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care what its beastly name is,” said Badger. “I want to know +whose bag this is; what the owner is like; and where he came from and +where he has gone to. Can you tell us that?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke regarded the Inspector with wooden gravity. “It is all very +obvious,” said he, “very obvious. But still, I think I should like to +fill in a few details before making a definite statement. Yes, I think +I will reserve my judgment until I have considered the matter a little +further.” +</p> + +<p> +The Inspector received this statement with a dubious grin. He was in +somewhat of a dilemma. My colleague was addicted to a certain dry +facetiousness, and was probably “pulling” the Inspector’s “leg.” But, +on the other hand, I knew, and so did both the detectives, that it was +perfectly conceivable that he had actually solved Badger’s problem, +impossible as it seemed, and was holding back his knowledge until he +had seen whither it led. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall we take a glance at the stick?” said he, picking it up as he +spoke and running his eye over its not very distinctive features. It +was a common ash stick, with a crooked handle polished and darkened by +prolonged contact with an apparently ungloved hand, and it was smeared +for about three inches from the tip with a yellowish mud. The iron +shoe of the ferrule was completely worn away and the deficiency had +been made good by driving a steel boot-stud into the exposed end. +</p> + +<p> +“A thrifty gentleman, this,” Thorndyke remarked, pointing to the stud +as he measured the diameter of the ferrule with his pocket +calliper-gauge. “Twenty-three thirty-seconds is the diameter,” he +added, looking gravely at the Inspector. “You had better make a note +of that, Badger.” +</p> + +<p> +The Inspector smiled sourly as Thorndyke laid down the stick, and once +more picking up the little green canvas case that contained his +research outfit, prepared to depart. +</p> + +<p> +“You will hear from us, Miller,” he said, “if we pick up anything that +will be useful to you. And now, Jervis, we must really take ourselves +off.” +</p> + +<p> +As the tinkling hansom bore us down Whitehall towards Waterloo, I +remarked, “Badger half suspects you of having withheld from him some +valuable information in respect of that bag.” +</p> + +<p> +“He does,” Thorndyke agreed with a mischievous smile; “and he doesn’t +in the least suspect me of having given him a most illuminating hint.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did you?” I asked, rapidly reviewing the conversation and +deciding that the facts elicited from the dressing wallet could hardly +be described as hints. +</p> + +<p> +“My learned friend,” he replied, “is pleased to counterfeit +obtuseness. It won’t do, Jervis. I’ve known you too long.” +</p> + +<p> +I grinned with vexation. Evidently I had missed the point of a subtle +demonstration, and I knew that it was useless to ask further +questions; and for the remainder of our journey in the cab I struggled +vainly to recover the “illuminating hint” that the detectives—and +I—had failed to note. Indeed, so preoccupied was I with this problem +that I rather overlooked the fact that the jettisoned bag was really +no concern of ours, and that we were actually engaged in the +investigation of a crime of which, at present, I knew practically +nothing. It was not until we had secured an empty compartment and the +train had begun to move that this suddenly dawned on me; whereupon I +dismissed the bag problem and applied to Thorndyke for details of the +“Brentford Train Mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +“To call it a mystery,” said he, “is a misuse of words. It appears to +be a simple train robbery. The identity of the robber is unknown, but +there is nothing very mysterious in that; and the crime otherwise is +quite commonplace. The circumstances are these: Some time ago, Mr. +Lionel Montague, of the firm, Lyons, Montague & Salaman, art dealers, +bought from a Russian nobleman a very valuable diamond necklace and +pendant. The peculiarity of this necklace was that the stones were all +of a pale blue colour and pretty accurately matched, so that in +addition to the aggregate value of the stones—which were all of large +size and some very large—there was the value of the piece as a whole +due to this uniformity of colour. Mr. Montague gave £70,000 for it, +and considered that he had made an excellent bargain. I should mention +that Montague was the chief buyer for the firm, and that he spent most +of his time travelling about the Continent in search of works of art +and other objects suitable for the purposes of his firm, and that, +naturally, he was an excellent judge of such things. Now, it seems +that he was not satisfied with the settings of this necklace, and as +soon as he had purchased it he handed it over to Messrs. Binks, of Old +Bond Street, to have the settings replaced by others of better design. +Yesterday morning he was notified by Binks that the resetting was +completed, and in the afternoon he called to inspect the work and take +the necklace away if it was satisfactory. The interview between Binks +and Montague took place in a room behind the shop, but it appears that +Montague came out into the shop to get a better light for his +inspection; and Mr. Binks states that as his customer stood facing the +door, examining the new settings, he, Binks, noticed a man standing by +the doorway furtively watching Mr. Montague.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing very remarkable in that,” said I. “If a man stands +at a shop door with a necklace of blue diamonds in his hand, he is +rather likely to attract attention.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “But the significance of an antecedent is apt +to be more appreciated after the consequences have developed. Binks is +now very emphatic about the furtive watcher. However, to continue: Mr. +Montague, being satisfied with the new settings, replaced the necklace +in its case, put the latter into his bag—which he had brought with +him from the inner room—and a minute or so later left the shop. That +was about 5 p.m.; and he seems to have gone direct to the flat of his +partner, Mr. Salaman, with whom he had been staying for a fortnight, +at Queen’s Gate. There he remained until about half-past eight, when +he came out accompanied by Mr. Salaman. The latter carried a small +suit-case, while Montague carried a handbag in which was the necklace. +It is not known whether it contained anything else. +</p> + +<p> +“From Queen’s Gate the two men proceeded to Waterloo, walking part of +the way and covering the remainder by omnibus.” +</p> + +<p> +“By omnibus!” I exclaimed, “with seventy thousand pounds worth of +diamonds about them!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it sounds odd. But people who habitually handle portable +property of great value seem to resemble those who habitually handle +explosives. They gradually become unconscious of the risks. At any +rate, that is how they went, and they arrived safely at Waterloo in +time to catch the 9.15 train for Isleworth. Mr. Salaman saw his +partner established in an empty first-class compartment and stayed +with him, chatting, until the train started. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Montague’s destination was Isleworth, in which rather unlikely +neighbourhood Mr. Jacob Lowenstein, late of Chicago, and now Berkeley +Square, has a sort of river-side villa with a motor boat-house +attached. Lowenstein had secured the option of purchasing the blue +diamond necklace, and Montague was taking it down to exhibit it and +carry out the deal. He was proposing to stay a few days with +Lowenstein, and then he was proceeding to Brussels on one of his +periodic tours. But he never reached Isleworth. When the train stopped +at Brentford, a porter noticed a suit-case on the luggage-rack of an +apparently empty first-class compartment. He immediately entered to +take possession of it, and was in the act of reaching up to the rack +when his foot came in contact with something soft under the seat. +Considerably startled, he stooped and peered under, when, to his +horror, he perceived the body of a man, quite motionless and +apparently dead. Instantly he darted out and rushed up the platform in +a state of wild panic until he, fortunately, ran against the station +master, with whom and another porter he returned to the compartment. +When they drew the body out from under the seat it was found to be +still breathing, and they proceeded at once to apply such restoratives +as cold water and fresh air, pending the arrival of the police and the +doctor, who had been sent for. +</p> + +<p> +“In a few minutes the police arrived accompanied by the police +surgeon, and the latter, after a brief examination, decided that the +unconscious man was suffering from the effects of a large dose of +chloroform, violently and unskilfully administered, and ordered him to +be carefully removed to a local nursing home. Meanwhile, the police +had been able, by inspecting the contents of his pockets, to identify +him as Mr. Lionel Montague.” +</p> + +<p> +“The diamonds had vanished, of course?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The handbag was not in the compartment, and later an empty +handbag was picked up on the permanent way between Barnes and +Chiswick, which seems to indicate the locality where the robbery took +place.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what is our present objective?” +</p> + +<p> +“We are going, on instructions from Mr. Salaman, to the nursing home +to see what information we can pick up. If Montague has recovered +sufficiently to give an account of the robbery, the police will have +a description of the robber, and there may not be much for us to do. +But you will have noticed that they do not seem to have any +information at Scotland Yard at present, beyond what I have given you. +So there is a chance yet that we may earn our fees.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke’s narrative of this somewhat commonplace crime, with the +discussion which followed it, occupied us until the train stopped at +Brentford Station. A few minutes later we halted in one of the quiet +by-streets of this old-world town, at a soberly painted door on which +was a brass plate inscribed “St. Agnes Nursing Home.” Our arrival had +apparently been observed, for the door was opened by a middle-aged +lady in a nurse’s uniform. +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. Thorndyke?” she inquired; and as my colleague bowed assent she +continued: “Mr. Salaman told me you would probably call. I am afraid I +haven’t very good news for you. The patient is still quite +unconscious.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is rather remarkable,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“It is. Dr. Kingston, who is in charge of the case, is somewhat +puzzled by this prolonged stupor. He is inclined to suspect a +narcotic—possibly a large dose of morphine—in addition to the +effects of the chloroform and the shock.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is probably right,” said I; “and the marvel is that the man is +alive at all after such outrageous treatment.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “He must be pretty tough. Shall we be able to +see him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes,” the matron replied. “I am instructed to give you every +assistance. Dr. Kingston would like to have your opinion on the case.” +</p> + +<p> +With this she conducted us to a pleasant room on the first floor +where, in a bed placed opposite a large window—purposely left +uncurtained—with the strong light falling full on his face, a man lay +with closed eyes, breathing quietly and showing no sign of +consciousness when we somewhat noisily entered the room. For some time +Thorndyke stood by the bedside, looking down at the unconscious man, +listening to the breathing and noting its frequency by his watch. Then +he felt the pulse, and raising both eyelids, compared the two pupils. +</p> + +<p> +“His condition doesn’t appear alarming,” was his conclusion. “The +breathing is rather shallow, but it is quite regular, and the pulse is +not bad though slow. The contracted pupils strongly suggest opium, or +more probably morphine. But that could easily be settled by a chemical +test. Do you notice the state of the face, Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean the chloroform burns? Yes, the handkerchief or pad must have +been saturated. But I was also noticing that he corresponds quite +remarkably with the description you were giving Badger of the owner of +the dressing wallet. He is about the age you mentioned—roughly about +fifty—and he has the same old-fashioned treatment of the beard, the +shaven upper lip and the monkey-fringe under the chin. It is rather an +odd coincidence.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at me keenly. “The coincidence is closer than that, +Jervis. Look at the beard itself.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed me his lens, and, stooping down, I brought it to bear on the +patient’s beard. And then I started back in astonishment; for by the +bright light I could see plainly that a considerable proportion of the +hairs were distinctly moniliform. This man’s beard, too, was affected +by an early stage of <i>trichorrexis nodosa!</i> +</p> + +<p> +“Well!” I exclaimed, “this is really an amazing coincidence. I wonder +if it is anything more.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder,” said Thorndyke. “Are those Mr. Montague’s things, Matron?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she replied, turning to the side table on which the patient’s +effects were neatly arranged. “Those are his clothes and the things +which were taken from his pockets, and that is his bag. It was found +on the line and sent on here a couple of hours ago. There is nothing +in it.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked over the various objects—keys, card-case, +pocket-book, etc.—that had been turned out of the patient’s pockets, +and then picked up the bag, which he turned over curiously and then +opened to inspect the interior. There was nothing distinctive about +it. It was just a plain, imitation leather bag, fairly new, though +rather the worse for its late vicissitudes, lined with coarse linen to +which two large, wash-leather pockets had been roughly stitched. As he +laid the bag down and picked up his own canvas case, he asked: “What +time did Mr. Salaman come to see the patient?” +</p> + +<p> +“He came here about ten o’clock this morning, and he was not able to +stay more than half an hour as he had an appointment. But he said he +would look in again this evening. You can’t stay to see him, I +suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid not,” Thorndyke replied; “in fact, we must be off now for +both Dr. Jervis and I have some other matters to attend to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going straight back to the chambers, Jervis?” Thorndyke +asked, as we walked down the main street towards the station. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I replied in some surprise. “Aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I have a little expedition in view.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, have you?” I exclaimed, and as I spoke it began to dawn on me +that I had overestimated the importance of my other business. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Thorndyke; “the fact is that—ha! excuse me one moment, +Jervis.” He had halted abruptly outside a fishing tackle shop and now, +after a brief glance in through the window, entered with an air of +business. I immediately bolted in after him, and was just in time to +hear him demand a fishing rod of a light and inexpensive character. +When this had been supplied he asked for a line and one or two hooks; +and I was a little surprised—and the vendor was positively +scandalized—at his indifference to the quality or character of these +appliances. I believe he would have accepted cod-line and a shark-hook +if they had been offered. +</p> + +<p> +“And now I want a float,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +The shopkeeper produced a tray containing a varied assortment of +floats over which Thorndyke ran a critical eye, and finally reduced +the shopman to stupefaction by selecting a gigantic, pot-bellied, +scarlet-and-green atrocity that looked like a juvenile telegraph buoy. +</p> + +<p> +I could not let this outrage pass without comment. “You must excuse +me, Thorndyke,” I said, “if I venture to point out that the Greenland +whale no longer frequents the upper reaches of the Thames.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mind your own business,” he retorted, stolidly pocketing the +telegraph buoy when he had paid for his purchases. “I like a float +that you can see.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the shopman, recovering somewhat from the shock of surprise, +remarked deferentially that it was a long time since a really large +pike had been caught in the neighbourhood; whereupon Thorndyke +finished him off by replying: “Yes, I’ve no doubt. They don’t use the +right sort of floats, you know. Now, when the pike see my float, they +will just come tumbling over one another to get on the hook.” With +this he tucked the rod under his arm and strolled out, leaving the +shopman breathing hard and staring harder. +</p> + +<p> +“But what on earth,” I asked, as we walked down the street (watched by +the shopman, who had come out on the pavement to see the last of us), +“do you want with such an enormous float? Why, it will be visible a +quarter of a mile away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly,” said Thorndyke. “And what more could a fisher of men +require?” +</p> + +<p> +This rejoinder gave me pause. Evidently Thorndyke had something in +hand of more than common interest; and again it occurred to me that my +own business engagements were of no special urgency. I was about to +mention this fact when Thorndyke again halted—at an oilshop this +time. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I will step in here and get a little burnt umber,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +I followed him into the shop, and while the powder-colour was being +weighed and made up into a little packet I reflected profoundly. +Fishing tackle and burnt umber had no obvious associations. I began to +be mystified and correspondingly inquisitive. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want the burnt umber for?” I asked as soon as we were +outside. +</p> + +<p> +“To mix with plaster,” he replied readily. +</p> + +<p> +“But why do you want to colour the plaster? And what are you going to +do with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Jervis,” he admonished with mock severity, “you are not doing +yourself justice. An investigator of your experience shouldn’t ask for +explanations of the obvious.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why,” I continued, “did you want to know if I was going straight +back to the chambers?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I may want some assistance later. Probably Polton will be +able to do all that I want, but I wished to know that you would both +be within reach of a telegram.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” I exclaimed, “what nonsense it is to talk of sending a telegram +to me when I’m here!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I may not want any assistance, after all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said doggedly, “you are going to have it whether you want it +or not. You’ve got something on and I’m going to be in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I like your enthusiasm, Jervis,” he chuckled; “but it is quite +possible that I shall merely find a mare’s nest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said I. “Then I’ll help you to find it. I’ve had plenty +of experience in that line, to say nothing of my natural gifts. So +lead on.” +</p> + +<p> +He led on, with a resigned smile, to the station, where we were +fortunate enough to find a train just ready to start. But our journey +was not a long one, for at Chiswick Thorndyke got out of the train, +and on leaving the station struck out eastward with a very evident air +of business. As we entered the outskirts of Hammersmith he turned into +a by-street which presently brought us out into Bridge Road. Here he +turned sharply to the right and, at the same brisk pace, crossed +Hammersmith Bridge and made his way to the towing path. As he now +slowed down perceptibly, I ventured to inquire whether this was the +spot on which he proposed to exhibit his super-float. +</p> + +<p> +“This, I think, will be our fishing-ground,” he replied; “but we will +look over it carefully and select a suitable pitch.” +</p> + +<p> +He continued to advance at an easy pace, and I noticed that, according +to his constant habit, he was studying the peculiarities of the +various feet that had trodden the path within the last day or two, +keeping, for this purpose, on the right-hand side, where the shade of +a few pollard willows overhanging an indistinct dry ditch had kept the +ground soft. We had walked on for nearly half a mile when he halted +and looked round. +</p> + +<p> +“I think we had better turn back a little way,” said he. “We seem to +have overshot our mark.” +</p> + +<p> +I made no comment on this rather mysterious observation, and we +retraced our steps for a couple of hundred yards, Thorndyke still +walking on the side farthest from the river and still keeping his eyes +fixed on the ground. Presently he again halted, and looking up and +down the path, of which we were at the moment the only occupants, +placed the canvas case on the ground and unfastened its clasps. +</p> + +<p> +“This, I think, will be our pitch,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you going to do?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I am going to make one or two casts. And meanwhile you had better get +the fishing rod fixed together so as to divert the attention of any +passers by.” +</p> + +<p> +I proceeded to make ready the fishing tackle, but at the same time +kept a close watch on my colleague’s proceedings. And very curious +proceedings they were. First he dipped up a little water from the +river in the rubber mixing bowl with which he mixed a bowlful of +plaster, and into this he stirred a few pinches of burnt umber, +whereby its dazzling white was changed to a muddy buff. Then, having +looked up and down the path, he stooped and carefully poured the +plaster into a couple of impressions of a walking-stick that were +visible at the edge of the path and finished up by filling a deep +impression of the same stick, at the margin of the ditch, where it had +apparently been stuck in the soft, clayey ground. +</p> + +<p> +As I watched this operation, a sudden suspicion flashed into my mind. +Dropping the fishing rod, I walked quickly along the path until I was +able to pick up another impression of the stick. A very brief +examination of it confirmed my suspicion. At the centre of the little +shallow pit was a semicircular impression—clearly that of a half-worn +boot-stud. +</p> + +<p> +“Why!” I exclaimed, “this is the stick that we saw at Scotland Yard!” +</p> + +<p> +“I should expect it to be and I believe it is,” said Thorndyke. “But +we shall be better able to judge from the casts. Pick up your rod. +There are two men coming down the path.” +</p> + +<p> +He closed his “research case” and drawing the fishing-line from his +pocket, began meditatively to unwind it. +</p> + +<p> +“I could wish,” said I, “that our appearance was more in character +with the part of the rustic angler; and for the Lord’s sake keep that +float out of sight, or we shall collect a crowd.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke laughed softly. “The float,” said he, “was intended for +Polton. He would have loved it. And the crowd would have been rather +an advantage—as you will appreciate when you come to use it.” +</p> + +<p> +The two men—builder’s labourers, apparently—now passed us with a +glance of faint interest at the fishing-tackle; and as they strolled +by, I appreciated the value of the burnt umber. If the casts had been +made of the snow-white plaster they would have stared conspicuously +from the ground and these men would almost certainly have stopped to +examine them and see what we were doing. But the tinted plaster was +practically invisible. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a wonderful man, Thorndyke,” I said, as I announced my +discovery. “You foresee everything.” +</p> + +<p> +He bowed his acknowledgments, and having tenderly felt one of the +casts and ascertained that the plaster had set hard, he lifted it with +infinite care, exhibiting a perfect facsimile of the end of the stick, +on which the worn boot-stud was plainly visible, even to the remains +of the pattern. Any doubt that might have remained as to the identity +of the stick was removed when Thorndyke produced his calliper-gauge. +</p> + +<p> +“Twenty-three thirty-seconds was the diameter, I think,” said he as he +opened the jaws of the gauge and consulted his notes. He placed the +cast between the jaws, and as they were gently slid into contact, the +index marked twenty-three thirty-seconds. +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” said Thorndyke, picking up the other two casts and +establishing their identity with the one which we had examined. “This +completes the first act.” Dropping one cast into his case and throwing +the other two into the river, he continued: “Now we proceed to the +next and hope for a like success. You notice that he stuck his stick +into the ground. Why do you suppose he did that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Presumably to leave his hands free.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And now let us sit down here and consider why he wanted his +hands free. Just look around and tell me what you see.” +</p> + +<p> +I gazed rather hopelessly at the very undistinctive surroundings and +began a bald catalogue. “I see a shabby-looking pollard willow, an +assortment of suburban vegetation, an obsolete tin +saucepan—unserviceable—and a bald spot where somebody seems to have +pulled up a small patch of turf.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Thorndyke. “You will also notice a certain amount of dry, +powdered earth distributed rather evenly over the bottom of the ditch. +And your patch of turf was cut round with a large knife before it was +pulled up. Why do you suppose it was pulled up?” +</p> + +<p> +I shook my head. “It’s of no use making mere guesses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not,” said he, “though the suggestion is fairly obvious when +considered with the other appearances. Between the roots of the willow +you notice a patch of grass that looks denser than one would expect +from its position. I wonder——” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, he reached forward with his stick and prized vigorously +at the edge of the patch, with the result that the clump of grass +lifted bodily; and when I picked it up and tried it on the bald spot, +the nicety with which it fitted left no doubt as to its origin. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” I exclaimed, looking at the obviously disturbed earth between +the roots of the willow, which the little patch of turf had covered; +“the plot thickens. Something seems to have been either buried or dug +up there; more probably buried.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope and believe that my learned friend is correct,” said +Thorndyke, opening his case to abstract a large, powerful spatula. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you expect to find there?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a faint hope of finding something wrapped in the half of a +very dirty towel,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Then you had better find it quickly,” said I, “for there is a man +coming along the path from the Putney direction.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked round at the still distant figure, and driving the spatula +into the loose earth stirred it up vigorously. +</p> + +<p> +“I can feel something,” he said, digging away with powerful thrusts +and scooping the earth out with his hands. Once more he looked round +at the approaching stranger—who seemed now to have quickened his pace +but was still four or five hundred yards distant. Then, thrusting his +hands into the hole, he gave a smart pull. Slowly there came forth a +package, about ten inches by six, enveloped in a portion of a +peculiarly filthy towel and loosely secured with string. Thorndyke +rapidly cast off the string and opened out the towel, disclosing a +handsome morocco case with an engraved gold plate. +</p> + +<p> +I pounced on the case and, pressing the catch, raised the lid; and +though I had expected no less, it was with something like a shock of +surprise that I looked on the glittering row and the dazzling cluster +of steely-blue diamonds. +</p> + +<p> +As I closed the casket and deposited it in the green canvas case, +Thorndyke, after a single glance at the treasure and another along the +path, crammed the towel into the hole and began to sweep the loose +earth in on top of it. The approaching stranger was for the moment +hidden from us by a bend of the path and a near clump of bushes, and +Thorndyke was evidently working to hide all traces before he should +appear. Having filled the hole, he carefully replaced the sod of turf +and then, moving over to the little bare patch from whence the turf +had been removed, he began swiftly to dig it up. +</p> + +<p> +“There,” said he, flinging on the path a worm which he had just +disinterred, “that will explain our activities. You had better +continue the excavation with your pocket-knife, and then proceed to +the capture of the leviathans. I must run up to the police station and +you must keep possession of this pitch. Don’t move away from here on +any account until I come back or send somebody to relieve you. I will +hand you over the float; you’ll want that.” With a malicious smile he +dropped the gaudy monstrosity on the path and having wiped the spatula +and replaced it in the case, picked up the latter and moved away +towards Putney. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the stranger reappeared, walking as if for a wager, and +I began to peck up the earth with my pocket-knife. +</p> + +<p> +As the man approached he slowed down by degrees until he came up at +something like a saunter. He was followed at a little distance by +Thorndyke, who had turned as if he had changed his mind, and now +passed me with the remark that “Perhaps Hammersmith would be better.” +The stranger cast a suspicious glance at him and then turned his +attention to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Lookin’ for worms?” he inquired, halting and surveying me +inquisitively. +</p> + +<p> +I replied by picking one up (with secret distaste) and holding it +aloft, and he continued, looking wistfully at Thorndyke’s retreating +figure: +</p> + +<p> +“Your pal seems to have had enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“He hadn’t got a rod,” said I; “but he’ll be back presently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said he, looking steadily over my shoulder in the direction of +the willow. “Well, you won’t do any good here. The place where they +rises is a quarter of a mile farther down—just round the bend there. +That’s a prime pitch. You just come along with me and I’ll show you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I must stay here until my friend comes back,” said I. “But I’ll tell +him what you say.” +</p> + +<p> +With this I seated myself stolidly on the bank and, having flung the +baited hook into the stream, sat and glared fixedly at the +preposterous float. My acquaintance fidgeted about me uneasily, +endeavouring from time to time to lure me away to the “prime pitch” +round the bend. And so the time dragged on until three-quarters of an +hour had passed. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly I observed two taxicabs crossing the bridge, followed by +three cyclists. A minute or two later Thorndyke reappeared, +accompanied by two other men, and then the cyclists came into view, +approaching at a rapid pace. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems to be a regular procession,” my friend remarked, viewing the +new arrivals with evident uneasiness. As he spoke, one of the cyclists +halted and dismounted to examine his tyre, while the other two +approached and shot past us. Then they, too, halted and dismounted, +and having deposited their machines in the ditch, came back towards +us. By this time I was able—with a good deal of surprise—to identify +Thorndyke’s two companions as Inspector Badger and Superintendent +Miller. Perhaps my acquaintance also recognized them, or possibly the +proceedings of the third cyclist—who had also laid down his machine +and was approaching on foot—disturbed him. At any rate he glanced +quickly from the one group to the other, and, selecting the smaller +one, sprang suddenly between the two cyclists and sped away along the +path like a hare. +</p> + +<p> +In a moment there was a wild stampede. The three cyclists, remounting +their machines, pedalled furiously after the fugitive, followed by +Badger and Miller on foot. Then the fugitive, the cyclists, and +finally the two officers disappeared round the bend of the path. +</p> + +<p> +“How did you know that he was the man?” I asked, when my colleague and +I were left alone. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t, though I had pretty strong grounds for suspicion. But I +merely brought the police to set a watch on the place and arrange an +ambush. Their encircling movement was just an experimental bluff; they +might have been chary of arresting the fellow if he hadn’t taken +fright and bolted. We have been fortunate all round, for, by a lucky +chance, Badger and Miller were at Chiswick making enquiries and I was +able to telephone to them to meet me at the bridge.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the procession reappeared, advancing briskly; and my +late adviser marched at the centre securely handcuffed. As he was +conducted past me he glared savagely and made some impolite references +to a “blooming nark.” +</p> + +<p> +“You can take him in one of the taxis,” said Miller, “and put your +bicycles on top.” Then, as the procession moved on towards the bridge +he turned to Thorndyke. “I suppose he’s the right man, Doctor, but he +hasn’t got any of the stuff on him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he hasn’t,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, do you know where it is?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke opened his case and taking out the casket, handed it to the +Superintendent. “I shall want a receipt for it,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +Miller opened the casket, and at the sight of the glittering jewels +both the detectives uttered an exclamation of amazement, and the +Superintendent demanded: “Where did you get this, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“I dug it up at the foot of that willow.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how did you know it was there?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t,” replied Thorndyke; “but I thought I might as well look, +you know,” and he bestowed a smile of exasperating blandness on the +astonished officer. +</p> + +<p> +The two detectives gazed at Thorndyke, then they looked at one another +and then they looked at me; and Badger observed, with profound +conviction, that it was a “knock-out.” “I believe the doctor keeps a +tame clairvoyant,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +“And may I take it, sir,” said Miller, “that you can establish a +<i>prima facie</i> case against this man, so that we can get a remand until +Mr. Montague is well enough to identify him?” +</p> + +<p> +“You may,” Thorndyke replied. “Let me know when and where he is to be +charged and I will attend and give evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +On this Miller wrote out a receipt for the jewels and the two officers +hurried off to their taxicab, leaving us, as Badger put it, “to our +fishing.” +</p> + +<p> +As soon as they were out of sight, Thorndyke opened his case and mixed +another bowlful of plaster. “We want two more casts,” said he; “one of +the right foot of the man who buried the jewels and one of the right +foot of the prisoner. They are obviously identical, as you can see by +the arrangement of the nails and the shape of the new patch on the +sole. I shall put the casts in evidence and compare them with the +prisoner’s right boot.” +</p> + +<p> +I understood now why Thorndyke had walked away towards Putney and then +returned in rear of the stranger. He had suspected the man and had +wanted to get a look at his footprints. But there was a good deal in +this case that I did not understand at all. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“There,” said Thorndyke, as he deposited the casts, each with its +pencilled identification, in his canvas case, “that is the end of the +Blue Diamond Mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said I, “but it isn’t. I want a full explanation. +It is evident that from the house at Brentford you made a bee line to +that willow. You knew then pretty exactly where the necklace was +hidden. For all I know, you may have had that knowledge when we left +Scotland Yard.” +</p> + +<p> +“As a matter of fact, I had,” he replied. “I went to Brentford +principally to verify the ownership of the wallet and the bag.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what was it that directed you with such certainty to the +Hammersmith towing-path?” +</p> + +<p> +It was then that he made the observation that I have quoted at the +beginning of this narrative. +</p> + +<p> +“In this case,” he continued, “a curious fact, well known to +naturalists, acquired vital evidential importance. It associated a +bag, found in one locality, with another apparently unrelated +locality. It was the link that joined up the two ends of a broken +chain. I offered that fact to Inspector Badger, who, lacking the +knowledge wherewith to interpret it, rejected it with scorn.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember that you gave him the name of that little shell that +dropped out of the handful of grass.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly,” said Thorndyke. “That was the crucial fact. It told us +where the handful of grass had been gathered.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t imagine how,” said I. “Surely you find shells all over the +country?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is, in general, quite true,” he replied, “but <i>Clausilia +biplicata</i> is one of the rare exceptions. There are four British +species of these queer little univalves (which are so named from the +little spring door with which the entrance of the shell is furnished); +<i>Clausilia laminata</i>, <i>Rolphii</i>, <i>rugosa</i> and <i>biplicata</i>. The first +three species have what we may call a normal distribution, whereas the +distribution of <i>biplicata</i> is abnormal. This seems to be a dying +species. It is in process of becoming extinct in this island. But when +a species of animal or plant becomes extinct, it does not fade away +evenly over the whole of its <i>habitat</i>, but it disappears in patches, +which gradually extend, leaving, as it were, islands of survival. This +is what has happened to <i>Clausilia biplicata</i>. It has disappeared from +this country with the exception of two localities; one of these is in +Wiltshire, and the other is the right bank of the Thames at +Hammersmith. And this latter locality is extraordinarily restricted. +Walk down a few hundred yards towards Putney, and you have walked out +of its domain; walk up a few hundred yards towards the bridge, and +again you have walked out of its territory. Yet within that little +area it is fairly plentiful. If you know where to look—it lives on +the bark or at the roots of willow trees—you can usually find one or +two specimens. Thus, you see, the presence of that shell associated +the handful of grass with a certain willow tree, and that willow was +either in Wiltshire or by the Hammersmith towing-path. But there was +nothing otherwise to connect it with Wiltshire, whereas there was +something to connect it with Hammersmith. Let us for a moment dismiss +the shell and consider the other suggestions offered by the bag and +stick. +</p> + +<p> +“The bag, as you saw, contained traces of two very different persons. +One was apparently a middle-class man, probably middle-aged or +elderly, cleanly, careful as to his appearance and of orderly habits; +the other, uncleanly, slovenly and apparently a professional criminal. +The bag itself seemed to appertain to the former person. It was an +expensive bag and showed signs of years of careful use. This, and the +circumstances in which it was found, led us to suspect that it was a +stolen bag. Now, we knew that the contents of a bag had been stolen. +We knew that an empty bag had been picked up on the line between +Barnes and Chiswick, and it was probable that the thief had left the +train at the latter station. The empty bag had been assumed to be Mr. +Montague’s, whereas the probabilities—as, for instance, the fact of +its having been thrown out on the line—suggested that it was the +thief’s bag, and that Mr. Montague’s had been taken away with its +contents. +</p> + +<p> +“The point, then, that we had to settle when we left Scotland Yard, +was whether this apparently stolen bag had any connection with the +train robbery. But as soon as we saw Mr. Montague it was evident that +he corresponded exactly with the owner of the dressing-wallet; and +when we saw the bag that had been found on the line—a shoddy, +imitation leather bag—it was practically certain that it was not his, +while the roughly-stitched leather pockets exactly suited to the +dimensions of house-breaking tools, strongly suggested that it was a +burglar’s bag. But if this were so, then Mr. Montague’s bag had been +stolen, and the robber’s effects stuffed into it. +</p> + +<p> +“With this working hypothesis we were now able to take up the case +from the other end. The Scotland Yard bag was Montague’s bag. It had +been taken from Chiswick to the Hammersmith towpath, where—judging +from the clay smears on the bottom—it had been laid on the ground, +presumably close to a willow tree. The use of the grass as packing +suggested that something had been removed from the bag at this +place—something that had wedged the tools together and prevented them +from rattling; and there appeared to be half a towel missing. Clearly, +the towpath was our next field of exploration. +</p> + +<p> +“But, small as this area was geographically, it would have taken a +long time to examine in detail. Here, however, the stick gave us +invaluable aid. It had a perfectly distinctive tip, and it showed +traces of having been stuck about three inches into earth similar to +that on the bag. What we had thus to look for was a hole in the ground +about three inches deep, and having at the bottom the impression of a +half-worn boot-stud. This hole would probably be close to a willow. +</p> + +<p> +“The search turned out even easier than I had hoped. Directly we +reached the towpath I picked up the track of the stick, and not one +track only, but a double track, showing that our friend had returned +to the bridge. All that remained was to follow the track until it came +to an end and there we were pretty certain to find the hole in the +ground, as, in fact, we did.” +</p> + +<p> +“And why,” I asked, “do you suppose he buried the stuff?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably as a precaution, in case he had been seen and described. +This morning’s papers will have told him that he had not been. +Probably, also, he wanted to make arrangements with a fence and didn’t +want to have the booty about him.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +There is little more to tell. When the case was heard on the following +morning, Thorndyke’s uncannily precise and detailed description of the +course of events, coupled with the production of the stolen property, +so unnerved the prisoner that he pleaded guilty forthwith. +</p> + +<p> +As to Mr. Montague, he recovered completely in a few days, and a +handsome pair of Georgian silver candlesticks may even to this day be +seen on our mantel-piece testifying to his gratitude and appreciation +of Thorndyke’s brilliant conduct of the case. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch06"> +VI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE STOLEN INGOTS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">In</span> medico-legal practice,” Thorndyke remarked, “one must be +constantly on one’s guard against the effects of suggestion, whether +intentional or unconscious. When the facts of a case are set forth by +an informant, they are nearly always presented, consciously or +unconsciously, in terms of inference. Certain facts, which appear to +the narrator to be the leading facts, are given with emphasis and in +detail, while other facts, which appear to be subordinate or trivial, +are partially suppressed. But this assessment of evidential value must +never be accepted. The whole case must be considered and each fact +weighed separately, and then it will commonly happen that the leading +fact turns out to be the one that had been passed over as negligible.” +</p> + +<p> +The remark was made apropos of a case, the facts of which had just +been stated to us by Mr. Halethorpe, of the Sphinx Assurance Company. +I did not quite perceive its bearing at the time, but looking back +when the case was concluded, I realized that I had fallen into the +very error against which Thorndyke’s warning should have guarded me. +</p> + +<p> +“I trust,” said Mr. Halethorpe, “that I have not come at an +inconvenient time. You are so tolerant of unusual hours——” +</p> + +<p> +“My practice,” interrupted Thorndyke, “is my recreation, and I welcome +you as one who comes to furnish entertainment. Draw your chair up to +the fire, light a cigar and tell us your story.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Halethorpe laughed, but adopted the procedure suggested, and +having settled his toes upon the kerb and selected a cigar from the +box, he opened the subject of his call. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t quite know what you can do for us,” he began, “as it is +hardly your business to trace lost property, but I thought I would +come and let you know about our difficulty. The fact is that our +company looks like dropping some four thousand pounds, which the +directors won’t like. What has happened is this: +</p> + +<p> +“About two months ago the London House of the Akropong Gold Fields +Company applied to us to insure a parcel of gold bars that were to be +consigned to Minton and Borwell, the big manufacturing jewellers. The +bars were to be shipped at Accra and landed at Bellhaven, which is the +nearest port to Minton and Borwell’s works. Well, we agreed to +underwrite the risk—we have done business with the Akropong people +before—and the matter was settled. The bars were put on board the +<i>Labadi</i> at Accra, and in due course were landed at Bellhaven, where +they were delivered to Minton’s agents. So far, so good. Then came the +catastrophe. The case of bars was put on the train at Bellhaven, +consigned to Anchester, where Mintons have their factory. But the line +doesn’t go to Anchester direct. The junction is at Garbridge, a small +country station close to the river Crouch, and here the case was put +out and locked up in the station-master’s office to wait for the +Anchester train. It seems that the station-master was called away and +detained longer than he had expected, and when the train was signalled +he hurried back in a mighty twitter. However, the case was there all +right, and he personally superintended its removal to the guard’s van +and put it in the guard’s charge. All went well for the rest of the +journey. A member of the firm was waiting at Anchester station with a +closed van. The case was put into it and taken direct to the factory, +where it was opened in the private office—and found to be full of +lead pipe.” +</p> + +<p> +“I presume,” said Thorndyke, “that it was not the original case.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Halethorpe, “but it was a very fair imitation. The label +and the marks were correct, but the seals were just plain wax. +Evidently the exchange had been made in the station-master’s office, +and it transpires that although the door was securely locked, there +was an unfastened window which opened on to the garden, and there were +plain marks of feet on the flower-bed outside.” +</p> + +<p> +“What time did this happen?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“The Anchester train came in at a quarter past seven, by which time, +of course, it was quite dark.” +</p> + +<p> +“And when did it happen?” +</p> + +<p> +“The day before yesterday. We heard of it yesterday morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you contesting the claim?” +</p> + +<p> +“We don’t want to. Of course, we could plead negligence, but in that +case I think we should make a claim on the railway company. But, +naturally, we should much rather recover the property. After all, it +can’t be so very far away.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t say that,” said Thorndyke. “This was no impromptu theft. +The dummy case was prepared in advance, and evidently by somebody who +knew what the real case was like, and how and when it was to be +despatched from Bellhaven. We must assume that the disposal of the +stolen case has been provided for with similar completeness. How far +is Garbridge from the river?” +</p> + +<p> +“Less than half a mile across the marshes. The +detective-inspector—Badger, I think you know him—asked the same +question.” +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally,” said Thorndyke. “A heavy object like this case is much +more easily and inconspicuously conveyed by water than on land. And +then, see what facilities for concealment a navigable river offers. +The case could be easily stowed away on a small craft, or even in a +boat; or the bars could be taken out and stowed amongst the ballast, +or even, at a pinch, dropped overboard at a marked spot and left until +the hue and cry was over.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are not very encouraging,” Halethorpe remarked gloomily. “I take +it that you don’t much expect that we shall recover those bars.” +</p> + +<p> +“We needn’t despair,” was the reply, “but I want you to understand the +difficulties. The thieves have got away with the booty, and that booty +is an imperishable material which retains its value even if broken up +into unrecognizable fragments. Melted down into small ingots, it would +be impossible to identify.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Halethorpe, “the police have the matter in +hand—Inspector Badger, of the C.I.D., is in charge of the case—but +our directors would be more satisfied if you would look into it. Of +course we would give you any help we could. What do you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am willing to look into the case,” said Thorndyke, “though I don’t +hold out much hope. Could you give me a note to the shipping company +and another to the consignees, Minton and Borwell?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I will. I’ll write them now. I have some of our stationery +in my attaché case. But, if you will pardon my saying so, you seem to +be starting your inquiry just where there is nothing to be learned. +The case was stolen after it left the ship and before it reached the +consignees—although their agent had received it from the ship.” +</p> + +<p> +“The point is,” said Thorndyke, “that this was a preconcerted robbery, +and that the thieves possessed special information. That information +must have come either from the ship or from the factory. So, while we +must try to pick up the track of the case itself, we must seek the +beginning of the clue at the two ends—the ship and the factory—from +one of which it must have started.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that’s true,” said Halethorpe. “Well, I’ll write those two notes +and then I must run away; and we’ll hope for the best.” +</p> + +<p> +He wrote the two letters, asking for facilities from the respective +parties, and then took his departure in a somewhat chastened frame of +mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite an interesting little problem,” Thorndyke remarked, as +Halethorpe’s footsteps died away on the stairs, “but not much in our +line. It is really a police case—a case for patient and intelligent +inquiry. And that is what we shall have to do—make some careful +inquiries on the spot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where do you propose to begin?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“At the beginning,” he replied. “Bellhaven. I propose that we go down +there to-morrow morning and pick up the thread at that end.” +</p> + +<p> +“What thread?” I demanded. “We know that the package started from +there. What else do you expect to learn?” +</p> + +<p> +“There are several curious possibilities in this case, as you must +have noticed,” he replied. “The question is, whether any of them are +probabilities. That is what I want to settle before we begin a +detailed investigation.” +</p> + +<p> +“For my part,” said I, “I should have supposed that the investigation +would start from the scene of the robbery. But I presume that you have +seen some possibilities that I have overlooked.” +</p> + +<p> +Which eventually turned out to be the case. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“I think,” said Thorndyke as we alighted at Bellhaven on the following +morning, “we had better go first to the Customs and make quite +certain, if we can, that the bars were really in the case when it was +delivered to the consignees’ agents. It won’t do to take it for +granted that the substitution took place at Garbridge, although that +is by far the most probable theory.” Accordingly we made our way to +the harbour, where an obliging mariner directed us to our destination. +</p> + +<p> +At the Custom House we were received by a genial officer, who, when +Thorndyke had explained his connection with the robbery, entered into +the matter with complete sympathy and a quick grasp of the situation. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said he. “You want clear evidence that the bars were in the +case when it left here. Well, I think we can satisfy you on that +point. Bullion is not a customable commodity, but it has to be +examined and reported. If it is consigned to the Bank of England or +the Mint, the case is passed through with the seals unbroken, but as +this was a private consignment, the seals will have been broken and +the contents of the case examined. Jeffson, show these gentlemen the +report on the case of gold bars from the <i>Labadi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would it be possible,” Thorndyke asked, “for us to have a few words +with the officer who opened the case? You know the legal partiality +for personal testimony.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it would. Jeffson, when these gentlemen have seen the +report, find the officer who signed it and let them have a talk with +him.” +</p> + +<p> +We followed Mr. Jeffson into an adjoining office where he produced the +report and handed it to Thorndyke. The particulars that it gave were +in effect those that would be furnished by the ship’s manifest and the +bill of lading. The case was thirteen inches long by twelve wide and +nine inches deep, outside measurement; and its gross weight was one +hundred and seventeen pounds three ounces, and it contained four bars +of the aggregate weight of one hundred and thirteen pounds two ounces. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Thorndyke, handing back the report. “And now can we +see the officer—Mr. Byrne, I think—just to fill in the details?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you will come with me,” replied Mr. Jeffson, “I’ll find him for +you. I expect he is on the wharf.” +</p> + +<p> +We followed our conductor out on to the quay among a litter of cases, +crates and barrels, and eventually, amidst a battalion of Madeira wine +casks, found the officer deep in problems of “content and ullage,” and +other customs mysteries. As Jeffson introduced us, and then discreetly +retired, Mr. Byrne confronted us with a mahogany face and a truculent +blue eye. +</p> + +<p> +“With reference to this bullion,” said Thorndyke, “I understand that +you weighed the bars separately from the case?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oi did,” replied Mr. Byrne. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you weigh each bar separately?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oi did not,” was the concise reply. +</p> + +<p> +“What was the appearance of the bars—I mean as to shape and size? +Were they of the usual type?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oi’ve not had a great deal to do with bullion,” said Mr. Byrne, “but +Oi should say that they were just ordinary gold bars, about nine +inches long by four wide and about two inches deep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was there much packing material in the case?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little. The bars were wrapped in thick canvas and jammed into +the case. There wouldn’t be more than about half an inch clearance all +round to allow for the canvas. The case was inch and a half stuff +strengthened with iron bands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you seal the case after you had closed it up?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oi did. ’Twas all shipshape when it was passed back to the mate. And +Oi saw him hand it over to the consignees’ agents; so ’twas all in +order when it left the wharf.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was what I wanted to make sure of,” said Thorndyke; and, having +pocketed his notebook and thanked the officer, he turned away among +the wilderness of merchandise. +</p> + +<p> +“So much for the Customs,” said he. “I am glad we went there first. As +you have no doubt observed, we have picked up some useful +information.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have ascertained,” I replied, “that the case was intact when it +was handed over to the consignees’ agents, so that our investigations +at Garbridge will start from a solid basis. And that, I take it, is +all you wanted to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not quite all,” he rejoined. “There are one or two little details +that I should like to fill in. I think we will look in on the shipping +agents and present Halethorpe’s note. We may as well learn all we can +before we make our start from the scene of the robbery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said. “I don’t see what more there is to learn here. But +apparently you do. That seems to be the office, past those sheds.” +</p> + +<p> +The manager of the shipping agent’s office looked us up and down as he +sat at his littered desk with Halethorpe’s letter in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve come about that bullion that was stolen,” he said brusquely. +“Well, it wasn’t stolen here. Hadn’t you better inquire at Garbridge, +where it was?” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly,” replied Thorndyke. “But I am making certain preliminary +inquiries. Now, first, as to the bill of lading. Who has that—the +original, I mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“The captain has it at present, but I have a copy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could I see it?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +The manager raised his eyebrows protestingly, but produced the +document from a file and handed it to Thorndyke, watching him +inquisitively as he copied the particulars of the package into his +notebook. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” said Thorndyke as he returned the document, “you have a +copy of the ship’s manifest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied the manager, “but the entry in the manifest is merely a +copy of the particulars given in the bill of lading.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see the manifest, if it is not troubling you too +much.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” the other protested impatiently, “the manifest contains no +information respecting this parcel of bullion excepting the one entry, +which, as I have told you, has been copied from the bill of lading.” +</p> + +<p> +“I realize that,” said Thorndyke; “but I should like to look over it, +all the same.” +</p> + +<p> +Our friend bounced into an inner office and presently returned with a +voluminous document, which he slapped down on a side-table. +</p> + +<p> +“There, sir,” he said. “That is the manifest. This is the entry +relating to the bullion that you are enquiring about. The rest of the +document is concerned with the cargo, in which I presume you are not +interested.” +</p> + +<p> +In this, however, he was mistaken; for Thorndyke, having verified the +bullion entry, turned the leaves over and began systematically, though +rapidly, to run his eye over the long list from the beginning, a +proceeding that the manager viewed with frenzied impatience. +</p> + +<p> +“If you are going to read it right through, sir,” the latter observed, +“I shall ask you to excuse me. Art is long but life is short,” he +added with a sour smile. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless he hovered about uneasily, and when Thorndyke proceeded +to copy some of the entries into his notebook, he craned over and read +them without the least disguise, though not without comment. +</p> + +<p> +“Good God, sir!” he exclaimed. “What possible bearing on this robbery +can that parcel of scrivelloes have? And do you realize that they are +still in the ship’s hold?” +</p> + +<p> +“I inferred that they were, as they are consigned to London,” +Thorndyke replied, drawing his finger down the “description” column +and rapidly scanning the entries in it. The manager watched that +finger, and as it stopped successively at a bag of gum copal, a case +of quartz specimens, a case of six-inch brass screw-bolts, a bag of +beni-seed and a package of kola nuts, he breathed hard and muttered +like an angry parrot. But Thorndyke was quite unmoved. With calm +deliberation he copied out each entry, conscientiously noting the +marks, descriptions of packages and contents, gross and net weight, +dimensions, names of consignors and consignees, ports of shipment and +discharge, and, in fact, the entire particulars. It was certainly an +amazing proceeding, and I could make no more of it than could our +impatient friend. +</p> + +<p> +At last Thorndyke closed and pocketed his note-book, and the manager +heaved a slightly obtrusive sigh. “Is there nothing more, sir?” he +asked. “You don’t want to examine the ship, for instance?” The next +moment, I think, he regretted his sarcasm, for Thorndyke inquired with +evident interest: “Is the ship still here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the unwilling admission. “She finishes unloading here at +midday to-day and will probably haul into the London Docks to-morrow +morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I need go on board,” said Thorndyke, “but you might +give me a card in case I find that I want to.” +</p> + +<p> +The card was somewhat grudgingly produced, and when Thorndyke had +thanked our entertainer for his help, we took our leave and made our +way towards the station. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said, “you have collected a vast amount of curious +information, but I am hanged if I can see that any of it has the +slightest bearing on our inquiry.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke cast on me a look of deep reproach. “Jervis!” he exclaimed, +“you astonish me; you do, indeed. Why, my dear fellow, it stares you +in the face!” +</p> + +<p> +“When you say ‘it,’ ” I said a little irritably, “you mean——?” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean the leading fact from which we may deduce the <i>modus operandi</i> +of this robbery. You shall look over my notes in the train and sort +out the data that we have collected. I think you will find them +extremely illuminating.” +</p> + +<p> +“I doubt it,” said I. “But, meanwhile, aren’t we wasting a good deal +of time? Halethorpe wants to get the gold back; he doesn’t want to +know how the thieves contrived to steal it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a very just remark,” answered Thorndyke. “My learned friend +displays his customary robust common sense. Nevertheless, I think that +a clear understanding of the mechanism of this robbery will prove very +helpful to us, though I agree with you that we have spent enough time +on securing our preliminary data. The important thing now is to pick +up a trail from Garbridge. But I see our train is signalled. We had +better hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +As the train rumbled into the station, we looked out for an empty +smoking compartment, and having been fortunate enough to secure one, +we settled ourselves in opposite corners and lighted our pipes. Then +Thorndyke handed me his notebook and as I studied, with wrinkled +brows, the apparently disconnected entries, he sat and observed me +thoughtfully and with the faintest suspicion of a smile. Again and +again I read through those notes with ever-dwindling hopes of +extracting the meaning that “stared me in the face.” Vainly did I +endeavour to connect gum copal, scrivelloes or beni-seed with the +methods of the unknown robbers. The entries in the notebook persisted +obstinately in remaining totally disconnected and hopelessly +irrelevant. At last I shut the book with a savage snap and handed it +back to its owner. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no use, Thorndyke,” I said. “I can’t see the faintest glimmer of +light.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said he, “it isn’t of much consequence. The practical part of +our task is before us, and it may turn out a pretty difficult part. +But we have got to recover those bars if it is humanly possible. And +here we are at our jumping-off place. This is Garbridge Station—and +I see an old acquaintance of ours on the platform.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked out, as the train slowed down, and there, sure enough, was no +less a person than Inspector Badger of the Criminal Investigation +Department. +</p> + +<p> +“We could have done very well without Badger,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, “but we shall have to take him into +partnership, I expect. After all, we are on his territory and on the +same errand. How do you do, Inspector?” he continued, as the officer, +having observed our descent from the carriage, hurried forward with +unwonted cordiality. +</p> + +<p> +“I rather expected to see you here, sir,” said he. “We heard that Mr. +Halethorpe had consulted you. But this isn’t the London train.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Thorndyke. “We’ve been to Bellhaven, just to make sure that +the bullion was in the case when it started.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could have told you that two days ago,” said Badger. “We got on to +the Customs people at once. That was all plain sailing; but the rest +of it isn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“No clue as to how the case was taken away?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes; that is pretty clear. It was hoisted out, and the dummy +hoisted in, through the window of the station-master’s office. And the +same night, two men were seen carrying a heavy package, about the size +of the bullion-case, towards the marshes. But there the clue ends. The +stuff seems to have vanished into thin air. Of course our people are +on the look-out for it in various likely directions, but I am staying +here with a couple of plain-clothes men. I’ve a conviction that it is +still somewhere in this neighbourhood, and I mean to stick here in the +hope that I may spot somebody trying to move it.” +</p> + +<p> +As the inspector was speaking we had been walking slowly from the +station towards the village, which was on the opposite side of the +river. On the bridge Thorndyke halted and looked down the river and +over the wide expanse of marshy country. +</p> + +<p> +“This is an ideal place for a bullion robbery,” he remarked. “A tidal +river near to the sea and a network of creeks, in any one of which one +could hide a boat or sink the booty below tide-marks. Have you heard +of any strange craft having put in here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. There’s a little ramshackle bawley from Leigh—but her crew of +two ragamuffins are not Leigh men. And they’ve made a mess of their +visit—got their craft on the mud on the top of the spring tide. There +she is, on that spit; and there she’ll be till next spring tide. But +I’ve been over her carefully and I’ll swear the stuff isn’t aboard +her. I had all the ballast out and emptied the lazarette and the chain +locker.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what about the barge?” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s a regular trader here. Her crew—the skipper and his son—are +quite respectable men and they belong here. There they go in that +boat; I expect they are off on this tide. But they seem to be making +for the bawley.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke the inspector produced a pair of glasses, through which he +watched the movements of the barge’s jolly-boat, and a couple of +elderly fishermen, who were crossing the bridge, halted to look on. +The barge’s boat ran alongside the stranded bawley, and one of the +rowers hailed; whereupon two men tumbled up from the cabin and dropped +into the boat, which immediately pushed off and headed for the barge. +</p> + +<p> +“Them bawley blokes seems to be taking a passage along of old Bill +Somers,” one of the fishermen remarked, levelling a small telescope at +the barge as the boat drew alongside and the four men climbed on +board. “Going to work their passage, too,” he added as the two +passengers proceeded immediately to man the windlass while the crew +let go the brails and hooked the main-sheet block to the traveller. +</p> + +<p> +“Rum go,” commented Badger, glaring at the barge through his glasses; +“but they haven’t taken anything aboard with them. I could see that.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have overhauled the barge, I suppose?” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Went right through her. Nothing there. She’s light. There was no +place aboard her where you could hide a split-pea.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you get her anchor up?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Badger. “I didn’t. I suppose I ought to have done so. +However, they’re getting it up themselves now.” As he spoke, the rapid +clink of a windlass-pawl was borne across the water, and through my +prismatic glasses I could see the two passengers working for all they +were worth at the cranks. Presently the clink of the pawl began to +slow down somewhat and the two bargemen, having got the sails set, +joined the toilers at the windlass, but even then there was no great +increase of speed. +</p> + +<p> +“Anchor seems to come up uncommon heavy,” one of the fishermen +remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” the other agreed. “Got foul of an old mooring maybe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Look out for the anchor, Badger,” Thorndyke said in a low voice, +gazing steadily through his binocular. “It is out of the ground. The +cable is up and down and the barge is drifting off on the tide.” +</p> + +<p> +Even as he spoke the ring and stock of the anchor rose slowly out of +the water, and now I could see that a second chain was shackled +loosely to the cable, down which it had slid until it was stopped by +the ring of the anchor. Badger had evidently seen it too, for he +ejaculated, “Hallo!” and added a few verbal flourishes which I need +not repeat. A few more turns of the windlass brought the flukes of the +anchor clear of the water, and dangling against them was an undeniable +wooden case, securely slung with lashings of stout chain. Badger +cursed volubly, and, turning to the fishermen, exclaimed in a rather +offensively peremptory tone: +</p> + +<p> +“I want a boat. Now. This instant.” +</p> + +<p> +The elder piscator regarded him doggedly and replied: “All right. I +ain’t got no objection.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where can I get a boat?” the inspector demanded, nearly purple with +excitement and anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +“Where do you think?” the mariner responded, evidently nettled by the +inspector’s masterful tone. “Pastrycook’s? Or livery stables?” +</p> + +<p> +“Look here,” said Badger. “I’m a police officer and I want to board +that barge, and I am prepared to pay handsomely. Now where can I get a +boat?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll put you aboard of her,” replied the fisherman, “that is, if we +can catch her. But I doubt it. She’s off, that’s what she is. And +there’s something queer a-going on aboard of her,” he added in a +somewhat different tone. +</p> + +<p> +There was. I had been observing it. The case had been, with some +difficulty, hoisted on board, and then suddenly there had broken out +an altercation between the two bargees and their passengers, and this +had now developed into what looked like a free fight. It was difficult +to see exactly what was happening, for the barge was drifting rapidly +down the river, and her sails, blowing out first on one side and then +on the other, rather obscured the view. Presently, however, the sails +filled and a man appeared at the wheel; then the barge jibed round, +and with a strong ebb tide and a fresh breeze, very soon began to grow +small in the distance. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the fishermen had bustled off in search of a boat, and the +inspector had raced to the bridgehead, where he stood gesticulating +frantically and blowing his whistle, while Thorndyke continued +placidly to watch the receding barge through his binocular. +</p> + +<p> +“What are we going to do?” I asked, a little surprised at my +colleague’s inaction. +</p> + +<p> +“What can we do?” he asked in reply. “Badger will follow the barge. He +probably won’t overtake her, but he will prevent her from making a +landing until they get out into the estuary, and then he may possibly +get assistance. The chase is in his hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are we going with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not. This looks like being an all-night expedition, and I must +be at our chambers to-morrow morning. Besides, the chase is not our +affair. But if you would like to join Badger there is no reason why +you shouldn’t. I can look after the practice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said, “I think I should rather like to be in at the death, +if it won’t inconvenience you. But it is possible that they may get +away with the booty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite,” he agreed; “and then it would be useful to know exactly how +and where it disappears. Yes, go with them, by all means, and keep a +sharp look-out.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment Badger returned with the two plain-clothes men whom his +whistle had called from their posts, and simultaneously a boat was +seen approaching the steps by the bridge, rowed by the two fishermen. +The inspector looked at us inquiringly. “Are you coming to see the +sport?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Jervis would like to come with you,” Thorndyke replied. “I +have to get back to London. But you will be a fair boat-load without +me.” +</p> + +<p> +This appeared to be also the view of the two fishermen, as they +brought up at the steps and observed the four passengers; but they +made no demur beyond inquiring if there were not any more; and when we +had taken our places in the stern sheets, they pushed off and pulled +through the bridge and away down stream. Gradually, the village +receded and the houses and the bridge grew small and more distant, +though they remained visible for a long time over the marshy levels; +and still, as I looked back through my glasses, I could see Thorndyke +on the bridge, watching the pursuit with his binocular to his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the fugitive barge, having got some two miles start, seemed +to be drawing ahead. But it was only at intervals that we could see +her, for the tide was falling fast and we were mostly hemmed in by the +high, muddy banks. Only when we entered a straight reach of the river +could we see her sails over the land; and every time that she came +into view, she appeared perceptibly smaller. +</p> + +<p> +When the river grew wider, the mast was stepped and a good-sized +lug-sail hoisted, though one of the fishermen continued to ply his oar +on the weather side, while the other took the tiller. This improved +our pace appreciably; but still, whenever we caught a glimpse of the +barge, it was evident that she was still gaining. +</p> + +<p> +On one of these occasions the man at the tiller, standing up to get a +better view, surveyed our quarry intently for nearly a minute and then +addressed the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s a-going to give us the go-by, mister,” he observed with +conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“Still gaining?” asked Badger. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye. She’s a-going to slip across the tail of Foulness Sand into the +deep channel. And that’s the last we shall see of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“But can’t we get into the channel the same way?” demanded Badger. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, d’ye see,” replied the fisherman, “ ’tis like this. Tide’s +a-running out, but there’ll be enough for her. It’ll just carry her +out through the Whitaker Channel and across the spit. Then it’ll turn, +and up she’ll go, London way, on the flood. But we shall catch the +flood-tide in the Whitaker Channel, and a rare old job we’ll have to +get out; and when we do get out, that barge’ll be miles away.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector swore long and earnestly. He even alluded to himself as +a “blithering idiot.” But that helped matters not at all. The +fisherman’s dismal prophecy was fulfilled in every horrid detail. When +we were approaching the Whitaker Channel the barge was just crossing +the spit, and the last of the ebb-tide was trickling out. By the time +we were fairly in the Channel the tide had turned and was already +flowing in with a speed that increased every minute; while over the +sand we could see the barge, already out in the open estuary, heading +to the west on the flood-tide at a good six knots. +</p> + +<p> +Poor Badger was frantic. With yearning eyes fixed on the dwindling +barge, he cursed, entreated, encouraged and made extravagant offers. +He even took an oar and pulled with such desperate energy that he +caught a crab and turned a neat back somersault into the fisherman’s +lap. The two mariners pulled until their oars bent like canes; but +still the sandy banks crept by, inch by inch, and ever the turbid +water seemed to pour up the channel more and yet more swiftly. It was +a fearful struggle and seemed to last for hours; and when, at last, +the boat crawled out across the spit and the exhausted rowers rested +on their oars, the sun was just setting and the barge had disappeared +into the west. +</p> + +<p> +I was really sorry for Badger. His oversight in respect of the anchor +was a very natural one for a landsman, and he had evidently taken +infinite pains over the case and shown excellent judgment in keeping +a close watch on the neighbourhood of Garbridge; and now, after all +his care, it looked as if both the robbers and their booty had slipped +through his fingers. It was desperately bad luck. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the elder fisherman, “they’ve give us a run for our +money; but they’ve got clear away. What’s to be done now, mister?” +</p> + +<p> +Badger had nothing to suggest excepting that we should pull or sail up +the river in the hope of getting some assistance on the way. He was in +the lowest depths of despair and dejection. But now, when Fortune +seemed to have deserted us utterly, and failure appeared to be an +accomplished fact, Providence intervened. +</p> + +<p> +A small steam vessel that had been approaching from the direction of +the East Swin suddenly altered her course and bore down as if to speak +us. The fisherman who had last spoken looked at her attentively for a +few moments and then slapped his thigh. “Saved, by gum!” he exclaimed. +“This’ll do your trick, mister. Here comes a Customs cruiser.” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the two fishermen bent to their oars to meet the oncoming +craft, and in a few minutes we were alongside, Badger hailing like a +bull of Bashan. A brief explanation to the officer in charge secured a +highly sympathetic promise of help. We all scrambled up on deck; the +boat was dropped astern at the scope of her painter; the engine-room +bell jangled merrily, and the smart, yacht-like vessel began to forge +ahead. +</p> + +<p> +“Now then,” said the officer, as his craft gathered way, “give us a +description of this barge. What is she like?” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s a small stumpy,” the senior fisherman explained, “flying light; +wants paint badly; steers with a wheel; green transom with <i>Bluebell, +Maldon</i>, cut in and gilded. Seemed to be keeping along the north +shore.” +</p> + +<p> +With these particulars in his mind, the officer explored the western +horizon with a pair of night-glasses, although it was still broad +daylight. Presently he reported: “There’s a stumpy in a line with the +Blacktail Spit buoy. Just take a look at her.” He handed his glasses +to the fisherman, who, after a careful inspection of the stranger, +gave it as his opinion that she was our quarry. “Probably makin’ for +Southend or Leigh,” said he, and added: “I’ll bet she’s bound for +Benfleet Creek. Nice quiet place, that, to land the stuff.” +</p> + +<p> +Our recent painful experience was now reversed, for as our swift +little vessel devoured the miles of water, the barge, which we were +all watching eagerly, loomed up larger every minute. By the time we +were abreast of the Mouse Lightship, she was but a few hundred yards +ahead, and even through my glasses, the name <i>Bluebell</i> was clearly +legible. Badger nearly wept with delight; the officer in charge smiled +an anticipatory smile; the deck-hands girded up their loins for the +coming capture and the plain-clothes men each furtively polished a +pair of handcuffs. +</p> + +<p> +At length the little cruiser came fairly abreast of the barge—not +unobserved by the two men on her deck. Then she sheered in suddenly +and swept alongside. One hand neatly hooked a shroud with a grappling +iron and made fast while a couple of preventive officers, the +plain-clothes men and the inspector jumped down simultaneously on to +the barge’s deck. For a moment, the two bawley men were inclined to +show fight; but the odds were too great. After a perfunctory scuffle +they both submitted to be handcuffed and were at once hauled up on +board the cruiser and lodged in the fore-peak under guard. Then the +chief officer, the two fishermen and I jumped on board the barge and +followed Badger down the companion hatch to the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +It was a curious scene that was revealed in that little cupboard-like +apartment by the light of Badger’s electric torch. On each of the two +lockers was stretched a man, securely lashed with lead-line and having +drawn over his face a knitted stocking cap, while on the little +triangular fixed table rested an iron-bound box which I instantly +identified by my recollection of the description of the bullion case +in the ship’s manifest. It was but the work of a minute to liberate +the skipper and his son and send them up, wrathful but substantially +uninjured, to refresh on the cruiser; and then the ponderous +treasure-chest was borne in triumph by two muscular deck-hands, up the +narrow steps, to be hoisted to the Government vessel. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” said the inspector, mopping his face with his +handkerchief, “all’s well that ends well; but I thought I had lost the +men and the stuff that time. What are you going to do? I shall stay on +board as this boat is going right up to the Custom House in London; +but if you want to get home sooner, I dare say the chief officer will +put you ashore at Southend.” +</p> + +<p> +I decided to adopt this course, and I was accordingly landed at +Southend Pier with a telegram from Badger to his head-quarters; and at +Southend I was fortunate enough to catch an express train which +brought me to Fenchurch Street while the night was still young. +</p> + +<p> +When I reached our chambers, I found Thorndyke seated by the fire, +serenely studying a brief. He stood up as I entered and, laying aside +the brief, remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“You are back sooner than I expected. How sped the chase? Did you +catch the barge?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. We’ve got the men and we’ve got the bullion. But we very nearly +lost both;” and here I gave him an account of the pursuit and the +capture, to which he listened with the liveliest interest. “That +Customs cruiser was a piece of sheer luck,” said he, when I had +concluded. “I am delighted. This capture simplifies the case for us +enormously.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me to dispose of the case altogether,” said I. “The +property is recovered and the thieves are in custody. But I think most +of the credit belongs to Badger.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke smiled enigmatically. “I should let him have it all, +Jervis,” he said; and then, after a reflective pause, he continued: +“We will go round to Scotland Yard in the morning to verify the +capture. If the package agrees with the description in the bill of +lading, the case, as you say, is disposed of.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is hardly necessary,” said I. “The marks were all correct and the +Customs seals were unbroken—but still, I know you won’t be satisfied +until you have verified everything for yourself. And I suppose you are +right.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +It was past eleven in the following forenoon when we invaded +Superintendent Miller’s office at Scotland Yard. That genial officer +looked up from his desk as we entered and laughed joyously. “I told +you so, Badger,” he chuckled, turning to the inspector, who had also +looked up and was regarding us with a foxy smile. “I knew the doctor +wouldn’t be satisfied until he had seen it with his own eyes. I +suppose that is what you have come for, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply. “It is a mere formality, of course, but, if you +don’t mind——” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the least,” replied Miller. “Come along, Badger, and show the +doctor your prize.” +</p> + +<p> +The two officers conducted us to a room, which the superintendent +unlocked, and which contained a small table, a measuring standard, a +weighing machine, a set of Snellen’s test-types, and the now historic +case of bullion. The latter Thorndyke inspected closely, checking the +marks and dimensions by his notes. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you haven’t opened it,” he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Miller. “Why should we? The Customs seals are intact.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you might like to know what was inside,” Thorndyke +explained. +</p> + +<p> +The two officers looked at him quickly and the inspector exclaimed: +“But we do know. It was opened and checked at the Customs.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you suppose is inside?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose,” Badger replied testily. “I know. There are four +bars of gold inside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “as the representative of the Assurance +Company, I should like to see the contents of that case.” +</p> + +<p> +The two officers stared at him in amazement, as also, I must admit, +did I. The implied doubt seemed utterly contrary to reason. +</p> + +<p> +“This is scepticism with a vengeance!” said Miller. “How on earth is +it possible—but there, I suppose if you are not satisfied, we should +be justified——” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced at his subordinate, who snorted impatiently: “Oh, open it +and let him see the bars. And then, I suppose, he will want us to make +an assay of the metal.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent retired with wrinkled brows and presently returned +with a screwdriver, a hammer and a case-opener. Very deftly he broke +the seals, extracted the screws and prized up the lid of the case, +inside which were one or two folds of thick canvas. Lifting these with +something of a flourish, he displayed the upper pair of dull, yellow +bars. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you satisfied now, sir?” demanded Badger. “Or do you want to see +the other two?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked reflectively at the two bars, and the two officers +looked inquiringly at him (but one might as profitably have watched +the expression on the face of a ship’s figurehead). Then he took from +his pocket a folding foot-rule and quickly measured the three +dimensions of one of the bars. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that weighing machine reliable?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It is correct to an ounce,” the superintendent replied, gazing at my +colleague with a slightly uneasy expression. “Why?” +</p> + +<p> +By way of reply Thorndyke lifted out the bar that he had measured and +carrying it across to the machine, laid it on the platform and +carefully adjusted the weights. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” the superintendent queried anxiously, as Thorndyke took the +reading from the scale. +</p> + +<p> +“Twenty-nine pounds, three ounces,” replied Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” repeated the superintendent. “What about it?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at him impassively for a moment, and then, in the +same quiet tone, answered: “Lead.” +</p> + +<p> +“What!” the two officers shrieked in unison, darting across to the +scale and glaring at the bar of metal. Then Badger recovered himself +and expostulated, not without temper, “Nonsense, sir. Look at it. +Can’t you see that it is gold?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can see that it is gilded,” replied Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” protested Miller, “the thing is impossible! What makes you +think it is lead?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is just a question of specific gravity,” was the reply. “This bar +contains seventy-two cubic inches of metal and it weighs twenty-nine +pounds three ounces. Therefore it is a bar of lead. But if you are +still doubtful, it is quite easy to settle the matter. May I cut a +small piece off the bar?” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent gasped and looked at his subordinate. “I suppose,” +said he, “under the circumstances—eh, Badger? Yes. Very well, +Doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke produced a strong pocket-knife, and, having lifted the bar +to the table, applied the knife to one corner and tapped it smartly +with the hammer. The blade passed easily through the soft metal, and +as the detached piece fell to the floor, the two officers and I craned +forward eagerly. And then all possible doubts were set at rest. There +was no mistaking the white, silvery lustre of the freshly-cut surface. +</p> + +<p> +“Snakes!” exclaimed the superintendent. “This is a fair knock-out! +Why, the blighters have got away with the stuff, after all! Unless,” +he added, with a quizzical look at Thorndyke, “you know where it is, +Doctor. I expect you do.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe I do,” said Thorndyke, “and if you care to come down with +me to the London Docks, I think I can hand it over to you.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent’s face brightened appreciably. Not so Badger’s. +That afflicted officer flung down the chip of metal that he had been +examining, and, turning to Thorndyke, demanded sourly: “Why didn’t you +tell us this before, sir? You let me go off chivvying that damn barge, +and you knew all the time that the stuff wasn’t on board.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Badger,” Thorndyke expostulated, “don’t you see that these +lead bars are essential to our case? They prove that the gold bars +were never landed and that they are consequently still on the ship. +Which empowers us to detain any gold that we may find on her.” +</p> + +<p> +“There, now, Badger,” said the superintendent, “it’s no use for you to +argue with the doctor. He’s like a giraffe. He can see all round him +at once. Let us get on to the Docks.” +</p> + +<p> +Having locked the room, we all sallied forth, and, taking a train at +Charing Cross Station, made our way by Mark Lane and Fenchurch Street +to Wapping, where, following Thorndyke, we entered the Docks and +proceeded straight to a wharf near the Wapping entrance. Here +Thorndyke exchanged a few words with a Customs official, who hurried +away and presently returned accompanied by an officer of higher rank. +The latter, having saluted Thorndyke and cast a slightly amused glance +at our little party, said: “They’ve landed that package that you spoke +about. I’ve had it put in my office for the present. Will you come and +have a look at it?” +</p> + +<p> +We followed him to his office behind a long row of sheds, where, on a +table, was a strong wooden case, somewhat larger than the “bullion” +case, while, on the desk a large, many-leaved document lay open. +</p> + +<p> +“This is your case, I think,” said the official; “but you had better +check it by the manifest. Here is the entry: ‘One case containing +seventeen and three-quarter dozen brass six-inch by three-eighths +screw-bolts with nuts. Dimensions, sixteen inches by thirteen by nine. +Gross weight a hundred and nineteen pounds; net weight a hundred and +thirteen pounds.’ Consigned to ‘Jackson and Walker, 593, Great Alie +Street, London, E.’ Is that the one?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the one,” Thorndyke replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said our friend, “we’ll get it open and have a look at those +brass screw-bolts.” +</p> + +<p> +With a dexterity surprising in an official of such high degree, he had +the screws out in a twinkling, and prizing up the lid, displayed a +fold of coarse canvas. As he lifted this the two police officers +peered eagerly into the case; and suddenly the eager expression on +Badger’s face changed to one of bitter disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve missed fire this time, sir,” he snapped. “This is just a case +of brass bolts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gold bolts, Inspector,” Thorndyke corrected, placidly. He picked out +one and handed it to the astonished detective. “Did you ever feel a +brass bolt of that weight?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it certainly is devilish heavy,” the inspector admitted, +weighing it in his hand and passing it on to Miller. +</p> + +<p> +“Its weight, as stated on the manifest,” said Thorndyke, “works out at +well over eight and a half ounces, but we may as well check it.” He +produced from his pocket a little spring balance, to which he slung +the bolt. “You see,” he said, “it weighs eight ounces and two-thirds. +But a brass bolt of the same size would weigh only three ounces and +four-fifths. There is not the least doubt that these bolts are gold; +and as you see that their aggregate weight is a hundred and thirteen +while the weight of the four missing bars is a hundred and thirteen +pounds, two ounces, it is a reasonable inference that these bolts +represent those bars; and an uncommonly good job they made of the +melting to lose only two ounces. Has the consignee’s agent turned up +yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is waiting outside,” replied the officer, with a pleased smile, +“hopping about like a pea in a frying-pan. I’ll call him in.” +</p> + +<p> +He did so, and a small, seedy man of strongly Semitic aspect +approached the door with nervous caution and a rather pale face. But +when his beady eye fell on the open case and the portentous assembly +in the office, he turned about and fled along the wharf as if the +hosts of the Philistines were at his heels. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is all perfectly simple, as you say,” I replied to +Thorndyke as we strolled back up Nightingale Lane, “but I don’t see +where you got your start. What made you think that the stolen case was +a dummy?” +</p> + +<p> +“At first,” Thorndyke replied, “it was just a matter of alternative +hypotheses. It was purely speculative. The robbery described by +Halethorpe was a very crude affair. It was planned in quite the wrong +way. Noting this, I naturally asked myself: What is the right way to +steal a case of gold ingots? Now, the outstanding difficulty in such a +robbery arises from the ponderous nature of the thing stolen, and the +way to overcome that difficulty is to get away with the booty at +leisure before the robbery is discovered—the longer the better. It is +also obvious that if you can delude some one into stealing your dummy +you will have covered up your tracks most completely; for if that some +one is caught, the issues are extremely confused, and if he is not +caught, all the tracks lead away from you. Of course, he will discover +the fraud when he tries to dispose of the swag, but his lips are +sealed by the fact that he has, himself, committed a felony. So that +is the proper strategical plan; and, though it was wildly improbable, +and there was nothing whatever to suggest it, still the possibility +that this crude robbery might cover a more subtle one, had to be borne +in mind. It was necessary to make absolutely certain that the gold +bars were really in the case when it left Bellhaven. I had practically +no doubt that they were. Our visit to the Custom House was little more +than a formality, just to give us an undeniable datum from which to +make our start. We had to find somebody who had actually seen the case +open and verified the contents; and when we found that man—Mr. +Byrne—it instantly became obvious that the wildly improbable thing +had really happened. The gold bars had already disappeared. I had +calculated the approximate size of the real bars. They would contain +forty-two cubic inches, and would be about seven inches by three by +two. The dimensions given by Byrne—evidently correct, as shown by +those of the case, which the bars fitted pretty closely—were +impossible. If those bars had been gold, they would have weighed two +hundred pounds, instead of the hundred and thirteen pounds shown on +his report. The astonishing thing is that Byrne did not observe the +discrepancy. There are not many Customs officers who would have let it +pass.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it rather odd,” I asked, “that the thieves should have gambled +on such a remote chance?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is pretty certain,” he replied, “that they were unaware of the +risk they were taking. Probably they assumed—as most persons would +have done—that a case of bullion would be merely inspected and +passed. Few persons realize the rigorous methods of the Customs +officers. But to resume: It was obvious that the ‘gold’ bars that +Byrne had examined were dummies. The next question was, where were the +real bars? Had they been made away with, or were they still on the +ship? To settle this question I decided to go through the manifest and +especially through the column of net weights. And there, presently, I +came upon a package the net weight of which was within two ounces of +the weight of the stolen bars. And that package was a parcel of brass +screw-bolts—on a homeward-bound ship! But who on earth sends brass +bolts from Africa to London? The anomaly was so striking that I +examined the entry more closely, and then I found—by dividing the net +weight by the number of bolts—that each of these little bolts weighed +over half a pound. But, if this were so, those bolts could be of no +other metal than gold or platinum, and were almost certainly gold. +Also, their aggregate weight was exactly that of the stolen bars, less +two ounces, which probably represented loss in melting.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the scrivelloes,” said I, “and the gum copal and the kola nuts; +what was their bearing on the inquiry? I can’t, even now, trace any +connection.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke cast an astonished glance at me, and then replied with a +quiet chuckle: “There wasn’t any. Those notes were for the benefit of +the shipping gentleman. As he would look over my shoulder, I had to +give him something to read and think about. If I had noted only the +brass bolts, I should have virtually informed him of the nature of my +suspicions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, really, you had the case complete when we left Bellhaven?” +</p> + +<p> +“Theoretically, yes. But we had to recover the stolen case, for, +without those lead ingots we could not prove that the gold bolts were +stolen property, any more than one could prove a murder without +evidence of the death of the victim.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how do you suppose the robbery was carried out? How was the gold +got out of the ship’s strong-room?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say it was never there. The robbers, I suspect, are the +ship’s mate, the chief engineer and possibly the purser. The mate +controls the stowage of cargo, and the chief engineer controls the +repair shop and has the necessary skill and knowledge to deal with the +metal. On receiving the advice of the bullion consignment, I imagine +they prepared the dummy case in agreement with the description. When +the bullion arrived, the dummy case would be concealed on deck and the +exchange made as soon as the bullion was put on board. The dummy would +be sent to the strong-room and the real case carried to a prepared +hiding-place. Then the engineer would cut up the bars, melt them +piecemeal and cast them into bolts in an ordinary casting-flask, using +an iron bolt as a model, and touching up the screw-threads with a die. +The mate could enter the case on the manifest when he pleased, and +send the bill of lading by post to the nominal consignee. That is what +I imagine to have been the procedure.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke’s solution turned out to be literally correct. The +consignee, pursued by Inspector Badger along the quay, was arrested at +the dock gates and immediately volunteered King’s evidence. Thereupon +the mate, the chief engineer and the purser of the steamship <i>Labadi</i> +were arrested and brought to trial; when they severally entered a plea +of guilty and described the method of the robbery almost in +Thorndyke’s words. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch07"> +VII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE FUNERAL PYRE</span> +</h3> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Thorndyke</span> did not often indulge in an evening paper, and was even +disposed to view that modern institution with some disfavour; whence +it happened that when I entered our chambers shortly before dinner +time with a copy of the <i>Evening Gazette</i> in my hand, he fixed upon +the folded news-sheet an inquiring and slightly disapproving eye. +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Orrible discovery near Dartford,” I announced, quoting the juvenile +vendor. +</p> + +<p> +The disapproval faded from his face, but the inquiring expression +remained. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” I replied; “but it seems to be something in our line.” +</p> + +<p> +“My learned friend does us an injustice,” he rejoined, with his eye +riveted on the paper. “Still, if you are going to make my flesh creep, +I will try to endure it.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus invited, I opened the paper and read out as follows: +</p> + +<p> +“A shocking tragedy has come to light in a meadow about a mile from +Dartford. About two o’clock this morning, a rural constable observed a +rick on fire out on the marshes near the creek. By the time he reached +it the upper half of the rick was burning fiercely in the strong wind +and, as he could do nothing alone, he went to the adjacent farm-house +and gave the alarm. The farmer and two of his sons accompanied the +constable to the scene of the conflagration, but the rick was now a +blazing mass, roaring in the wind and giving out an intense heat. As +it was obviously impossible to save any part of it, and as there were +no other ricks near, the farmer decided to abandon it to its fate and +went home. +</p> + +<p> +“At eight o’clock he returned to the spot and found the rick still +burning, though reduced to a heap of glowing cinders and ashes, and +approaching it, he was horrified to perceive a human skull grinning +out from the cindery mass. Closer examination showed other bones—all +calcined white and chalky—and close to the skull a stumpy clay pipe. +The explanation of this dreadful occurrence seems quite simple. The +rick was not quite finished, and when the farm hands knocked off work +they left the ladder in position. It is assumed that some tramp, in +search of a night’s lodging, observed the ladder, and climbing up it, +made himself comfortable in the loose hay at the top of the rick, +where he fell asleep with his lighted pipe in his mouth. This ignited +the hay and the man must have been suffocated by the fumes without +awakening from his sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“A reasonable explanation,” was Thorndyke’s comment, “and quite +probable; but of course it is pure hypothesis. As a matter of fact, +any one of the three conceivable causes of violent death is possible +in this case—accident, suicide or homicide.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have supposed,” said I, “that we could almost exclude +suicide. It is difficult to imagine a man electing to roast himself to +death.” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot agree with my learned friend,” Thorndyke rejoined. “I can +imagine a case—and one of great medico-legal interest—that would +exactly fit the present circumstances. Let us suppose a man, +hopelessly insolvent, desperate and disgusted with life, who decides +to provide for his family by investing the few pounds that he has left +in insuring his life heavily and then making away with himself. How +would he proceed? If he should commit suicide by any of the orthodox +methods he would simply invalidate his policy. But now, suppose he +knows of a likely rick; that he provides himself with some +rapidly-acting poison, such as potassium cyanide—he could even use +prussic acid if he carried it in a rubber or celluloid bottle, which +would be consumed in the fire; that he climbs on to the rick; sets +fire to it, and as soon as it is fairly alight, takes his dose of +poison and falls back dead among the hay. Who is to contest his +family’s claim? The fire will have destroyed all traces of the poison, +even if they should be sought for. But it is practically certain that +the question would never be raised. The claim would be paid without +demur.” +</p> + +<p> +I could not help smiling at this calm exposition of a practicable +crime. “It is a mercy, Thorndyke,” I remarked, “that you are an honest +man. If you were not——” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” he retorted, “that I should find some better means of +livelihood than suicide. But with regard to this case: it will be +worth watching. The tramp hypothesis is certainly the most probable; +but its very probability makes an alternative hypothesis at least +possible. No one is likely to suspect fraudulent suicide; but that +immunity from suspicion is a factor that increases the probability of +fraudulent suicide. And so, to a less extent, with homicide. We must +watch the case and see if there are any further developments.” +</p> + +<p> +Further developments were not very long in appearing. The report in +the morning paper disposed effectually of the tramp theory without +offering any other. “The tragedy of the burning rick,” it said, “is +taking a somewhat mysterious turn. It is now clear that the unknown +man, who was assumed to have been a tramp, must have been a person of +some social position, for careful examination of the ashes by the +police have brought to light various articles which would have been +carried only by a man of fair means. The clay pipe was evidently one +of a pair—of which the second one has been recovered—probably silver +mounted and carried in a case, the steel frame of which has been +found. Both pipes are of the ‘Burns Cutty’ pattern and have neatly +scratched on the bowls the initials ‘R.R.’ The following articles have +also been found:—Remains of a watch, probably gold, and a rather +singular watch-chain, having alternate links of platinum and gold. The +gold links have partly disappeared, but numerous beads of gold have +been found, derived apparently from the watch and chain. The platinum +links are intact and are fashioned of twisted square wire. A bunch of +keys, partly fused; a rock crystal seal, apparently from a ring; a +little porcelain mascot figure, with a hole for suspension—possibly +from the watch-chain—and a number of artificial teeth. In connection +with the latter, a puzzling and slightly sinister aspect has been +given to the case by the finding of an upper dental plate by a ditch +some two hundred yards from the rick. The plate has two gaps and, on +comparison with the skull of the unknown man, these have been found by +the police surgeon to correspond with two groups of remaining teeth. +Moreover, the artificial teeth found in the ashes all seem to belong +to a lower plate. The presence of this plate, so far from the scene of +the man’s death, is extremely difficult to account for.” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke finished reading the extract he looked at me as if +inviting some comment. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a most remarkable and mysterious affair,” said I, “and +naturally recalls to my mind the hypothetical case that you suggested +yesterday. If that case was possible then, it is actually probable +now. It fits these new facts perfectly, not only in respect of the +abundant means of identification, but even to this dental plate—if we +assume that he took the poison as he was approaching the rick, and +that the poison was of an acrid or irritating character which caused +him to cough or retch. And I can think of no other plausible +explanation.” +</p> + +<p> +“There <i>are</i> other possibilities,” said Thorndyke, “but fraudulent +suicide is certainly the most probable theory on the known facts. But +we shall see. As you say, the body can hardly fail to be identified at +a pretty early date.” +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact it was identified in the course of that same day. +Both Thorndyke and I were busily engaged until evening in the courts +and elsewhere and had not had time to give this curious case any +consideration. But as we walked home together, we encountered Mr. +Stalker of the Griffin Life Assurance Company pacing up and down +King’s Bench Walk near the entry of our chambers. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” he exclaimed, striding forward to meet us near the Mitre Court +gateway, “you are just the very men I wanted to see. There is a little +matter that I want to consult you about. I shan’t detain you long.” +</p> + +<p> +“It won’t matter much if you do,” said Thorndyke. “We have finished +our routine work for the day and our time is now our own.” He led the +way up to our chambers, where, having given the fire a stir, he drew +up three arm-chairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Stalker,” said he. “Warm your toes and tell us your troubles.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Stalker spread out his hands to the blaze and began reflectively: +“It will be enough, I think, if I give you the facts—and most of them +you probably know already. You have heard about this man whose remains +were found in the ashes of a burnt rick? Well, it turns out that he +was a certain Mr. Reginald Reed, an outside broker, as I understand; +but what is of more interest to us is that he was a client of ours. We +have issued a policy on his life for three thousand pounds. I thought +I remembered the name when I saw it in the paper this afternoon, so I +looked up our books, and there it was, sure enough.” +</p> + +<p> +“When was the policy issued?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” exclaimed Stalker. “That’s the exasperating feature of the case. +The policy was issued less than a year ago. He has only paid a single +premium. So we stand to drop practically the whole three thousand. Of +course, we have to take the fat with the lean, but we don’t like to +take it in such precious large lumps.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you don’t,” agreed Thorndyke. “But now: you have come to +consult me—about what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” replied Stalker, “I put it to you: isn’t there something +obviously fishy about the case? Are the circumstances normal? For +instance, how the devil came a respectable city gentleman to be +smoking his pipe in a haystack out in a lonely meadow at two o’clock +in the morning, or thereabouts?” +</p> + +<p> +“I agree,” said Thorndyke, “that the circumstances are highly +abnormal. But there is no doubt that the man is dead. Extremely dead, +if I may use the expression. What is the point that you wish to +raise?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not raising any point,” replied Stalker. “We should like you to +attend the inquest and watch the case for us. Of course, in our +policies, as you know, suicide is expressly ruled out; and if this +should turn out to have been a case of suicide——” +</p> + +<p> +“What is there to suggest that it was?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“What is there to suggest that it wasn’t?” retorted Stalker. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing,” rejoined Thorndyke. “But a negative plea is of no use to +you. You will have to furnish positive proof of suicide, or else pay +the claim.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I realize that,” said Stalker, “and I am not suggesting—but +there, it is of no use discussing the matter while we know so little. +I leave the case in your hands. Can you attend the inquest?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall make it my business to do so,” replied Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Stalker, rising and putting on his gloves, “then we +will leave it at that; and we couldn’t leave it in better case.” +</p> + +<p> +When our visitor had gone I remarked to Thorndyke: “Stalker seems to +have conceived the same idea as my learned senior—fraudulent +suicide.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not surprising,” he replied. “Stalker is a shrewd man and he +perceives that when an abnormal thing has happened we may look for an +abnormal explanation. Fraudulent suicide was a speculative possibility +yesterday: to-day, in the light of these new facts, it is the most +probable theory. But mere probabilities won’t help Stalker. If there +is no direct evidence of suicide—and there is not likely to be +any—the verdict will be Death by Misadventure, and the Griffin +Company will have to pay.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you won’t do anything until you have heard what transpires +at the inquest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied. “I think we should do well to go down and just go +over the ground. At present we have the facts at third hand, and we +don’t know what may have been overlooked. As to-morrow is fairly free +I propose that we make an early start and see the place ourselves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there any particular point that you want to clear up?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I have nothing definite in view. The circumstances are compatible +with either accident, suicide or homicide, with an undoubted leaning +towards suicide. But, at present, I have a completely open mind. I am, +in fact, going down to Dartford in the hope of getting a lead in some +definite direction.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +When we alighted at Dartford Station on the following morning, +Thorndyke looked enquiringly up and down the platform until he espied +an inspector, when he approached the official and asked for a +direction to the site of the burnt rick. +</p> + +<p> +The official glanced at Thorndyke’s canvas-covered research-case and +at my binocular and camera as he replied with a smile: “You are not +the first, by a long way, that has asked that question. There has been +a regular procession of Press gentlemen that way this morning. The +place is about a mile from here. You take the foot-path to Joyce Green +and turn off towards the creek opposite Temple Farm. This is about +where the rick stood,” he added, as Thorndyke produced his one-inch +ordnance map and a pencil, “a few yards from that dyke.” +</p> + +<p> +With this direction and the open map we set forth from the station, +and taking our way along the unfrequented path soon left the town +behind. As we crossed the second stile, where the path rejoined the +road, Thorndyke paused to survey the prospect. “Stalker’s question,” +he remarked, “was not unreasonable. This road leads nowhere but to the +river, and one does rather wonder what a city man can have been doing +out on these marshes in the small hours of the morning. I think that +will be our objective, where you see those men at work by the +shepherd’s hut, or whatever it is.” +</p> + +<p> +We struck off across the level meadows, out of which arose the red +sails of a couple of barges, creeping down the invisible creek; and as +we approached our objective the shepherd’s hut resolved itself into a +contractor’s office van, and the men were seen to be working with +shovels and sieves on the ashes of the rick. A police inspector was +superintending the operations, and when we drew near he accosted us +with a civil inquiry as to our business. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke presented his card and explained that he was watching the +case in the interests of the Griffin Assurance Company. “I suppose,” +he added, “I shall be given the necessary facilities?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” replied the officer, glancing at my colleague with an odd +mixture of respect and suspicion; “and if you can spot anything that +we’ve overlooked, you are very welcome. It’s all for the public good. +Is there anything in particular that you want to see?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see everything that has been recovered so far. The +remains of the body have been removed, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. To the mortuary. But I have got all the effects here.” +</p> + +<p> +He led the way to the office—a wooden hut on low wheels—and +unlocking the door, invited us to enter. “Here are the things that we +have salved,” he said, indicating a table covered with white paper on +which the various articles were neatly set out, “and I think it’s +about the lot. We haven’t come on anything fresh for the last hour or +so.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked over the collection thoughtfully; picked up and +examined successively the two clay pipes—each with the initials +“R.R.” neatly incised on the bowl—the absurd little mascot figure, so +incongruous with its grim surroundings and the tragic circumstances, +the distorted keys, the platinum chain-links to several of which +shapeless blobs of gold adhered, and the crystal seal; and then, +collecting the artificial teeth, arranged them in what appeared to be +their correct order, and compared them with the dental plate. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said he, holding the latter in his fingers, “that as the +body is not here, I should like to secure the means of comparison of +these teeth with the skull. There will be no objection to that, I +presume?” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you wish to do?” the inspector asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to take a cast of the plate and a wax impression of the +loose teeth. No damage will be done to the originals, of course.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector hesitated, his natural, official tendency to refuse +permission apparently contending with a desire to see with his own +eyes how the famous expert carried out his mysterious methods of +research. In the end the latter prevailed and the official sanction +was given, subject to a proviso. “You won’t mind my looking on while +you do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not,” replied Thorndyke. “Why should I?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought that perhaps your methods were a sort of trade secret.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke laughed softly as he opened the research-case. “My dear +Inspector,” said he, “the people who have trade secrets are those who +make a profound mystery of simple processes that any schoolboy could +carry out with once showing. That is the necessity for the secrecy.” +</p> + +<p> +As he was speaking he half-filled a tiny aluminium saucepan with +water, and having dropped into it a couple of cakes of dentist’s +moulding composition, put it to heat over a spirit-lamp. While it was +heating he greased the dental plate and the loose teeth, and prepared +the little rubber basin and the other appliances for mixing the +plaster. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector was deeply interested. With almost ravenous attention he +followed these proceedings, and eagerly watched Thorndyke roll the +softened composition into the semblance of a small sausage and press +it firmly on the teeth of the plate; peered into the plaster tin, and +when the liquid plaster was mixed and applied, first to the top and +then to the lower surface of the plate, not only observed the process +closely but put a number of very pertinent questions. +</p> + +<p> +While the plaster and composition were setting Thorndyke renewed his +inspection of the salvage from the rick, picking out a number of iron +boot protectors which he placed apart in a little heap. +</p> + +<p> +Then he proceeded to roll out two flat strips of softened composition, +into one of which he pressed the loose teeth in what appeared to be +their proper order, and into the other the boot protectors—eight in +number—after first dusting the surface with powdered French chalk. By +this time the plaster had set hard enough to allow of the mould being +opened and the dental plate taken out. Then Thorndyke, having painted +the surfaces of the plaster pieces with knotting, put the mould +together again and tied it firmly with string, mixed a fresh bowl of +plaster and poured it into the mould. +</p> + +<p> +While this was setting Thorndyke made a careful inventory, with my +assistance, of the articles found in the ashes and put a few discreet +questions to the inspector. But the latter knew very little about the +case. His duty was merely to examine and report on the rick for the +information of the coroner. The investigation of the case was +evidently being conducted from head-quarters. There being no +information to be gleaned from the officer we went out and inspected +the site of the rick. But here, also, there was nothing to be learned; +the surface of the ground was now laid bare and the men who were +working with the sieves reported no further discoveries. We +accordingly returned to the hut, and as the plaster had now set hard +Thorndyke proceeded with infinite care to open the mould. The +operation was a complete success, and as my colleague extracted the +cast—a perfect replica, in plaster, of the dental plate—the +inspector’s admiration was unbounded. “Why,” he exclaimed, “excepting +for the colour you couldn’t tell one from the other; but all the same, +I don’t quite see what you want it for.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want it to compare with the skull,” replied Thorndyke, “if I have +time to call at the mortuary. As I can’t take the original plate with +me, I shall need this copy to make the comparison. Obviously, it is +most important to make sure that this is Reed’s plate and not that of +some other person. By the way, can you show us the spot where the +plate was picked up?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied the inspector. “You can see the place from here. It was +just by that gate at the crossing of the ditch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Inspector,” said Thorndyke. “I think we will walk down and +have a look at the place.” He wrapped the new cast in a soft cloth, +and having repacked his research case, shook hands with the officer +and prepared to depart. +</p> + +<p> +“You will notice, Jervis,” he remarked as we walked towards the gate, +“that this denture was picked up at a spot beyond the rick—farther +from the town, I mean. Consequently, if the plate is Reed’s, he must +have dropped it while he was approaching the rick from the direction +of the river. It will be worth while to see if we can find out whence +he came.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I agreed. “But the dropping of the plate is a rather mysterious +affair. It must have happened when he took the poison—assuming that +he really did poison himself; but one would have expected that he +would wait until he got to the rick to take his dose.” +</p> + +<p> +“We had better not make too many assumptions while we have so few +facts,” said Thorndyke. He put down his case beside the gate, which +guarded a bridge across a broad ditch, or drainage dyke, and opened +his map. +</p> + +<p> +“The question is,” said he, “did he come through this gate or was he +only passing it. This dyke, you see, opens into the creek about +three-quarters of a mile farther down. The probability is, therefore, +that if he came up from the river across the marshes he would be on +this side of the ditch and would pass the gate. But we had better try +both sides. Let us leave our things by the gate and explore the ground +for a few hundred yards, one on either side of the ditch. Which side +will you take?” +</p> + +<p> +I elected to take the side nearer the creek and, having put my camera +down by the research case, climbed over the padlocked gate and began +to walk slowly along by the side of the ditch, scanning the ground for +footprints showing the impression of boot-protectors. At first the +surface was far from favourable for imprints of any kind, being, like +that immediately around the gate, covered with thick turf. About a +hundred and fifty yards down, however, I came upon a heap of +worm-casts on which was plainly visible the print of a heel with a +clear impression of a kidney-shaped protector such as I had seen in +the hut. Thereupon I hailed Thorndyke and, having stuck my stick in +the ground beside the heel-print, went back to meet him at the gate. +</p> + +<p> +“This is rather interesting, Jervis,” he remarked, when I had +described my find. “The inference seems to be that he came from the +creek—unless there is another gate farther down. We had better have +our compo impressions handy for comparison.” He opened his case and +taking from it the strip of composition—now as hard as bone—on which +were the impressions of the boot-protectors, slipped it into his outer +pocket. We then took up the case and the camera and proceeded to the +spot marked by my stick. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “it is not very conclusive, seeing that so +many people use boot-protectors, but it is probably Reed’s footprint. +Let us hope that we shall find something more distinctive farther on.” +</p> + +<p> +We resumed our march, keeping a few yards apart and examining the +ground closely as we went. For a full quarter of a mile we went on +without detecting any trace of a footprint on the thick turf. Suddenly +we perceived ahead of us a stretch of yellow mud occupying a slight +hollow, across which the creek had apparently overflowed at the last +spring tide. When we reached it we found that the mud was nearly dry, +but still soft enough to take an impression; and the surface was +covered with a maze of footprints. +</p> + +<p> +We halted at the edge of the patch and surveyed the complicated +pattern; and then it became evident that the whole group of prints had +been produced by two pairs of feet, with the addition of a row of +sheep-tracks. +</p> + +<p> +“This seems to raise an entirely new issue,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed. “I think we now begin to see a definite +light on the case. But we must go cautiously. Here are two sets of +footprints, of which one is apparently Reed’s—to judge by the +boot-protectors—while the other prints have been made by a man, whom +we will call X, who wore boots or shoes with rubber soles and heels. +We had better begin by verifying Reed’s.” He produced the composition +strip from his pocket, and, stooping over one pair of footprints, +continued: “I think we may assume that these are Reed’s feet. We have +on the compo strip impressions of eight protectors from the rick, and +on each footprint there are four protectors. Moreover, the individual +protectors are the same on the compo and on the footprints. Thus the +compo shows two pairs of half-protectors, two single edge-pieces, and +two kidney-shaped protectors; while each footprint shows a pair of +half-protectors on the outside of the sole, a single one on the inside +and a kidney-shaped piece on the heel. Furthermore, in both cases the +protectors are nearly new and show no appreciable signs of wear. The +agreement is complete.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you think,” said I, “that we ought to take plaster records of +them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do,” he replied, “seeing that a heavy shower or a high tide would +obliterate them. If you will make the casts I will, meanwhile, make a +careful drawing of the whole group to show the order of imposition.” +</p> + +<p> +We fell to work forthwith upon our respective tasks, and by the time I +had filled four of the clearest of the footprints with plaster, +Thorndyke had completed his drawing with the aid of a set of coloured +pencils from the research case. While the plaster was setting he +exhibited and explained the drawing. +</p> + +<p> +“You see, Jervis, that there are four lines of prints and a set of +sheep-tracks. The first in order of time are these prints of X, drawn +in blue. Then come the sheep, which trod on X’s footprints. Next comes +Reed, alone and after some interval, for he has trodden both on the +sheep-tracks and on the tracks of X. Both men were going towards the +river. Then we have the tracks of the two men coming back. This time +they were together, for their tracks are parallel and neither treads +into the prints of the other. Both tracks are rather sinuous as if the +men were walking unsteadily, and both have trodden on the sheep-tracks +and on the preceding tracks. Next, we have the tracks of X going alone +towards the river and treading on all the others excepting number +four, which are the tracks of X coming from the river and turning off +towards that gate, which opens on to the road. The sequence of events +is therefore pretty clear. +</p> + +<p> +“First, X came along here alone to some destination which we have yet +to discover. Later—how much later we cannot judge—came Reed, alone. +The two men seem to have met, and later returned together, apparently +the worse for drink. That is the last we see of Reed. Next comes X, +walking back—quite steadily, you notice—towards the river. Later, he +returns; but this time, for some reason—perhaps to avoid the +neighbourhood of the rick—he crosses the ditch at that gate, +apparently to get on the road, though you see by the map that the road +is much the longer route to the town. And now we had better get on and +see if we can discover the rendezvous to and from which these two men +went and came.” +</p> + +<p> +As the plaster had now set quite hard I picked up the casts, and when +I had carefully packed them in the case we resumed our progress +riverwards. I had already noticed, some distance ahead, the mast of +what looked like a small cutter yacht standing up above the marshes, +and I now drew Thorndyke’s attention to it. But he had already +observed it and, like me, had marked it as the probable rendezvous of +the two men. In a few minutes the probability became a certainty, for +a bend in the creek showed us the little vessel—with the name +<i>Moonbeam</i> newly painted on the bow—made fast alongside a small +wooden staging; and when we reached this the bare earth opposite the +gangway was seen to be covered with the footprints of both men. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder,” said I, “which of them was the owner of the yacht.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is pretty obvious, I think,” said Thorndyke, “that X was the owner +if either of them was. He came to the yacht alone, and he wore +rubber-soled shoes such as yachtsmen favour; whereas Reed came when +the other man was there, and he wore iron boot-protectors, which no +yacht owner would do if he had any respect for his deck-planks. But +they may have had a joint interest; appearances suggest that they were +painting the woodwork when they were here together, as some of the +paint is fresh and some of it old and shabby.” He gazed at the yacht +reflectively for some time and then remarked: “It would be +interesting—and perhaps instructive—to have a look at the inside.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be a flagrant trespass, to put it mildly,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“It would be more than trespass if that padlock is locked,” he +rejoined. “But we need not take a pedantic view of the legal position. +My learned friend has a serviceable pair of glasses and commands an +unobstructed view of a mile or so; and if he maintains an observant +attitude while I make an inspection of the premises any trifling +irregularity will be of no consequence.” As he spoke he felt in his +pocket and produced an instrument which our laboratory assistant, +Polton, had made from a few pieces of stiff steel wire, and which was +euphemistically known as a smoker’s companion. With this appliance in +his hand he dropped down on to the yacht’s deck, and after a quick +look round, tried the padlock. Finding it locked he proceeded to +operate on it with the smoker’s companion, and in a few moments it +fell open, when he pushed back the sliding hatch and stepped down into +the little cabin. +</p> + +<p> +His exploration did not take long. In a few minutes he reappeared and +climbed the short ladder to the staging. “There isn’t much to see,” he +reported, “but what there is is highly suggestive. If you slip down +and have a look round, I think you will have no difficulty in forming +a plausible reconstruction of the recent events. You had better take +the camera. There is light enough for a time exposure.” +</p> + +<p> +I handed him the glasses, and dropping on to the deck, stepped down +through the open hatch into the cabin. It was an absurd little cave, +barely four feet high from the floor to the coach-roof, open to the +forepeak and lighted by a little skylight and two port-holes. Of the +two sleeping berths, one had evidently been used as a seat, while the +other appeared to have been slept in, to judge by the indented pillow +and the tumbled blankets, left just as the occupant had crawled out of +them. But the whole interior was in a state of squalid disorder. +Paint-pots and unwashed brushes lay about the floor, in company with a +couple of whisky-bottles—one empty and one half-full—two tumblers, a +pair of empty siphons and a litter of playing cards scattered +broadcast and evidently derived from two packs. It was, as Thorndyke +had said, easy to reconstruct the scene of sordid debauchery that the +light of the two candles—each in its congealed pool of grease—must +have displayed on that night of horror whose dreadful secret had been +disclosed by the ashes of the rick. But I could see nothing that would +enable me to give a name to the dead man’s mysterious companion. +</p> + +<p> +When I had completed my inspection and taken a photograph of the +interior, I rejoined Thorndyke, who then descended and replaced the +padlock on the closed hatch, relocking it with the invaluable smoker’s +companion. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Jervis,” said he, as we turned our faces towards the town, “it +seems as if we had accomplished our task, so far as Stalker is +concerned. It is still possible that this was a case of suicide, but +it is no longer probable. All the appearances point to homicide. I +think my learned friend will agree with me in that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly,” I replied. “And to me there is a strong suggestion of +premeditation. I take it that X, the owner of the yacht, enticed Reed +out here, possibly to prepare for a cruise; that the two men worked at +the repainting while the daylight lasted and then spent the evening +drinking and gambling. The fact that they used two packs of cards +suggests that they played for pretty heavy stakes. Then, I think, Reed +became drunk and X offered to see him safely off the marshes. It is +evident that X was not drunk, because, although both tracks appear +unsteady when the men were walking together, the tracks of X, +returning to the yacht are quite steady and straight. I should say +that the actual murder took place just after they had got over the +gate; that Reed’s false teeth fell out while his body was being +dragged to the rick, and that this was unnoticed by X owing to the +darkness. Then X dragged the body up the ladder and laid it in the +middle of the rick at the top, set fire to the rick—probably on the +lee side—and at once made off back to the yacht. There he passed the +night, and in the morning he returned to the town along the road, +giving the neighbourhood of the rick a wide berth. That is my reading +of the evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Thorndyke, “that seems to be the interpretation of the +facts. And now all that remains is to give a name to the mysterious X, +and I should think that will present no difficulties.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you proposing to inspect the remains at the mortuary?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied. “It would be interesting, but it is not necessary. +We have all the available data for identification, and our concern is +now not with Reed but with X. We had better get back to London.” +</p> + +<p> +On our arrival at the station, we found the book-stall keeper in the +act of sticking up a placard of the evening paper on which was the +legend: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Rick tragedy; Sensational development.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +We immediately provided ourselves each with a copy of the paper, and +sitting down on a seat, proceeded to read the heavily-leaded report. +</p> + +<p> +“A new and startling aspect has been given to the rick tragedy by some +further inquiries that the police have made. It seems that the dead +man, Reed, was a member of the firm of Reed and Jarman, outside +brokers, and it now transpires that his partner, Walter Jarman, is +also missing. There has been no one at the office this week, but the +caretaker states that on Monday evening at about eight o’clock, he saw +Mr. Jarman let himself into the office with his key (the rick was +first seen to be on fire at two o’clock on Monday morning). It appears +that three cheques, payable to the firm and endorsed by Jarman, were +paid into the bank—Patmore’s—by the first post on Tuesday morning, +and that, also on Tuesday morning, Jarman purchased a parcel of +diamonds of just over a thousand pounds in value from a diamond +merchant in Hatton Garden, who accepted a cheque in payment after +telephoning to the bank. It further appears that on the previous +Saturday morning, Reed and Jarman visited the bank together and drew +out in cash practically their whole balance, leaving only thirty-two +pounds. The diamond merchant’s cheque was met by the cheques that had +just been paid in. It is premature to make any comments, but we may +expect some strange disclosures at the inquest, which will be held at +Dartford the day after to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“I assume,” said I, “that the identity of X is no longer a mystery. It +looks as if these two men had agreed to realize their assets and +abscond, and had then spent the night gambling for the swag, and oddly +enough, Reed appears to have been the winner, for otherwise there +would have been no need to murder him.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is so,” Thorndyke agreed, “assuming that X is Jarman, which is +probable, though not certain. But we mustn’t go beyond our facts, and +we mustn’t construct theories from newspaper reports. I think we had +better call at Scotland Yard on our way home and verify those +particulars.” +</p> + +<p> +The report and our own observations occupied us during the journey to +London, though our discussion produced no further conclusions. As soon +as we arrived at Charing Cross, Thorndyke sprang out of the train, and +emerging from the station, walked swiftly towards Whitehall. +</p> + +<p> +Our visit was fortunately timed, for as we approached the entrance to +the headquarters, our old friend, Superintendent Miller, came out. He +smiled as he saw us and halted to utter the laconic query: “Rick +Case?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “We have come to verify the particulars +given in the evening paper. Have you seen the report?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and you may take it as correct. Anything else?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have liked to look over a series of the cheques drawn by the +firm. The last two, I suppose, are inaccessible?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. They will be at the bank, and we couldn’t inspect them without +an order of the Court. But, as to the others, if they are at the +office, I think you could see them. I’ll come along with you now if +you like, and have a look round myself. Our people are in possession.” +</p> + +<p> +We at once closed with the superintendent’s offer and proceeded with +him by the Underground Railway to the Mansion House, from whence we +made our way to Queen Victoria Street, where Reed and Jarman had their +offices. A sergeant was in charge at the moment, and to him the +superintendent addressed himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you found any returned cheques?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” replied the sergeant; “lots of ’em. We’ve been through +them all.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he produced several bundles of cheques and laid them on a +desk, the drawers of which all stood open. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Miller, “there they are, Doctor. I don’t know what you +want to find out, but I expect you do.” He placed a chair by the desk, +and as Thorndyke sat down and proceeded to turn the cheques over, he +watched him with politely-suppressed curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“It appears,” said Thorndyke, “as if these two men had mixed up their +private affairs with the business account. Here, for instance, is a +cheque drawn by Reed for the Picardy Wine Company. But that company +could hardly have been a client. And this one of Jarman’s for the +Secretary of the St. John’s Nursing Home must be a private cheque, and +so I should say are these two for F. Waller, Esq., F.R.C.S., and for +Andrew Darton, Esq., L.D.S. They are drawn for professional men and +both are—like the Nursing Home cheque—stated in even amounts of +guineas, whereas the business cheques are in uneven amounts of pounds, +shillings and pence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you are right, sir,” said Miller. “The business seems to have +been conducted in a very casual manner. And just look at those +signatures! Never twice alike. The banks hate that sort of thing, +naturally. When a customer signs in the signature book he has given a +specimen for reference and he ought to keep to it strictly. A man who +varies his signature is asking for trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is,” Thorndyke agreed, as he rapidly entered a few particulars of +the cheques in his note-book; “particularly in the case of a firm with +a staff of clerks.” +</p> + +<p> +He stood up, and having pocketed his notebook, held out his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I am very much obliged to you, Superintendent,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Seen all that you wanted to see?” Miller asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, yes,” Thorndyke replied. +</p> + +<p> +“I should very much like to know what you <i>have</i> seen,” Miller +rejoined; to which my colleague replied by waving his hand towards the +cheques, as he turned to go. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t quite see the bearing of those cheques on our inquiry,” I +said, as we took our way homeward along Cheapside. +</p> + +<p> +“It is not very direct,” Thorndyke replied; “but the cheques help us +to understand the characters of these two men and their relations with +one another; which may be very necessary when we come to the inquest.” +</p> + +<p> +During the following day I saw very little of Thorndyke, for our +excursion to Dartford had put our work somewhat in arrear and we had +to secure a free day for the inquest on the morrow. We met at dinner +after the day’s work, but, beyond settling the programme for the next +day, nothing of importance passed with reference to the “Rick Case.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +The opening phases of the inquest, though of thrilling interest to the +numerous spectators and Press men, did not particularly concern us. +The evidence of the rural constable, the farmer and the police +inspector—with whom Thorndyke had a little confidential talk and +apparently surprised the officer considerably—merely amplified what +we knew already. Of more interest was that of a local dentist who +testified to having examined the dental plate and to having compared +it with the skull of the dead man. “The plate and the jaw of +deceased,” he said, “agree completely. The jaw contains five natural +teeth in two groups, and the plate has two spaces which exactly +correspond to those two groups of teeth. I have tried the plate on the +jaw and have no doubt whatever that it belonged to deceased.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a very important fact,” Thorndyke remarked to me as the +witness retired. “It is the indispensable link in the chain.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely it was obvious?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt,” he replied. “But now it is proved and in evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +I was somewhat puzzled by Thorndyke’s remark, but the appearance of a +new witness forbade discussion. Mr. Arthur Gerrard was an +alert-looking, rather tall man, with bushy, Mephistophelian eyebrows +and a small, dark moustache, who wore a pair of large bifocal +spectacles, and to whom a small mole at the corner of the mouth +imparted the effect of a permanent one-sided smile. +</p> + +<p> +“It was on your information,” said the coroner, “that the identity of +the deceased was established.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied the witness, who spoke with a slight, but perceptible, +Irish accent. “I saw the description in the papers of the things that +had been found in the rick and at once recognized them as Reed’s. I +knew deceased intimately and had often noticed his peculiar +watch-chain and the little china mascot and seen him smoking the clay +pipe with his initials scratched on it; and I knew that he wore false +teeth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you meet him frequently?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. For more than a year he was my partner in business, and we +remained friends after I had dissolved the partnership.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you dissolve the partnership?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had to. Reed was impossible in a business sense. He gambled +incessantly in stocks and I had to pay his losses. I lent him, for +this purpose, at one time and another, over two thousand pounds. He +gave me bills for the loans, but he was never able to meet them, and +in the end, when we dissolved, I got him to insure his life for three +thousand pounds and to draw up a document making his debt to me the +first charge on his estate in the event of his death.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had you ever any reason to suppose that he contemplated suicide?” +</p> + +<p> +“None whatever. After he left me, he entered into partnership with a +Mr. Walter Jarman, and whenever I met him, he seemed to be quite happy +and contented, though I gathered that he was still gambling a good +deal. I saw him a week ago to-day and he then told me that he proposed +to take a short yachting holiday with his partner, who owned a small +cutter. That was the last time that I saw him alive.” +</p> + +<p> +As the witness was about to retire, Thorndyke rose, and having +obtained the coroner’s permission to cross-examine, asked: +</p> + +<p> +“You have spoken of a yacht. Do you know what her name is and where +she has been kept lately?” +</p> + +<p> +“Her name is the <i>Moonbeam</i>, and I believe Jarman kept her somewhere +in the Thames, but I don’t know where.” +</p> + +<p> +“And as to Jarman himself: what do you know about him, as to his +character, for instance?” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew him very slightly. He appeared to be rather a dissipated man. +Drank a good deal, I should say, and I think he was a bit of a +gambler.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know if he was a heavy smoker?” +</p> + +<p> +“He didn’t smoke at all, but he was an inveterate snuff-taker.” +</p> + +<p> +At this point the foreman of the jury interposed with the audible +remark that “he didn’t see what this had to do with the inquiry,” and +the coroner looked dubiously at Thorndyke; but as my colleague sat +down, the objection was not pursued. +</p> + +<p> +The next witness was the caretaker of the building in which Reed and +Jarman’s office was situated. His evidence was to the effect that on +the previous Monday evening at about eight o’clock, he saw Mr. Jarman +let himself into the office with his key. “I don’t know how long he +stayed there,” he continued, in reply to the coroner’s question. “I +had finished my work and was going up to my rooms at the top of the +building. I didn’t see him again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you notice anything unusual in his appearance?” asked Thorndyke, +rising to cross-examine. “Was his face at all flushed, for instance?” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t say. I was going up the stairs and I just looked back over +my shoulder when I heard him. His face was turned away from me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you had no difficulty in recognizing him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No: I should have known him a mile off. He had his overcoat on, and +it is a very peculiar overcoat—light brown with a sort of greenish +check. You couldn’t possibly mistake it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What should you say was Mr. Jarman’s height?” +</p> + +<p> +“About five feet nine or ten, I should say.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the foreman of the jury again interposed. “Aren’t we wasting +time, sir?” he inquired impatiently. “These details about Jarman may +be very important to the police, but they don’t concern us. We are +inquiring into the death of Mr. Reginald Reed.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner looked deprecatingly at Thorndyke and remarked: “There is +some truth in what the foreman says.” +</p> + +<p> +“I submit, sir,” replied Thorndyke, “that there is no truth in it at +all. We are not inquiring into the death of Reginald Reed, but into +that of a man whose remains were found in a burned rick.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the body has been identified as that of Reginald Reed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “I submit that it has been wrongly identified. +I suggest that the body is that of Walter Jarman and I am prepared to +produce witnesses who will prove that it is.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” exclaimed the coroner, “we have just heard the evidence of a +witness who states that he saw Jarman alive eighteen hours after the +rick was fired.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Thorndyke. “We have heard the witness +say that he saw Jarman’s overcoat. He expressly stated that he did not +see the man’s face.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner hastily conferred with the jury—who openly scoffed at +Thorndyke’s suggestion—and then said: “I find what you say perfectly +incredible and so do the jury. It is utterly irreconcilable with the +facts. You had better call your witnesses and let us dispose of this +extraordinary suggestion.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke bowed to the coroner and called Mr. Andrew Darton; whereupon +a middle-aged man of markedly professional aspect came forward and, +having been sworn, gave evidence as follows: +</p> + +<p> +“I am a dental surgeon. A little over two years ago, Mr. Walter Jarman +was under my care. I extracted some loose teeth from both jaws and +made him two plates—an upper and a lower.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could you identify those plates?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I have with me the plaster model on which those plates were +made.” He opened a bag and produced a plaster cast of a pair of jaws +fitted with a brass hinge so that the jaws could be opened and shut. +On the upper jaw were two groups of teeth separated by a space of bare +gums, while the lower jaw bore a single group of four front teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“This model,” the witness explained, “is an exact replica of the +patient’s jaws, and the two plates were actually moulded on it.” He +picked up the dental plate from the table, and amidst a hush of +breathless expectancy, opened the mouth of the model and applied the +plate to the upper jaw. At a glance, it was obvious that it fitted +perfectly. The two groups of the plaster teeth slipped exactly into +the spaces on the plate, making a complete row of teeth. Then the +witness covered the lower gums with strips of plastic wax and taking +the loose teeth from the table, attached them to the wax; and again +the correspondence was evident. The teeth thus applied exactly filled +the vacant spaces. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you now identify that plate?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply. “I am quite certain that this is the plate I +made for Mr. Jarman and that those loose teeth are from his lower +plate.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at the coroner, who nodded emphatically. “This +evidence seems perfectly conclusive,” he admitted. “What do you say, +gentlemen?” he added, turning to the jury. +</p> + +<p> +There was no doubt as to their sentiments. With one voice they +declared their complete conviction. Had they not seen the +demonstration with their own eyes? +</p> + +<p> +“And now, sir,” said the coroner, “as you appear to know more than any +one else about this case, and as it is perfectly incomprehensible to +me, and probably also to the jury, I suggest that you give us an +explanation. And you had better make it a sworn statement, so that it +can go into the depositions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, “especially as I have some evidence to give.” +He was accordingly sworn and then proceeded to make the following +statement: +</p> + +<p> +“The first thing that struck me on reading the report of this case, +was the very remarkable character of the objects found in the ashes of +the rick. They included objects composed of platinum, of pipe-clay, of +iron and of porcelain—all substances practically indestructible by +fire. And these imperishable objects were all highly distinctive and +easily identifiable, and two of them actually bore the initials of +their owner. There was almost a suggestion of the body having been +prepared for identification after burning. This mere suggestion, +however, gave place to definite suspicion when I saw the dental plate. +That plate presented a most striking discrepancy. Here it is, sir, and +you see that it is a clean polished plate of red vulcanite, with not a +trace of stain or discoloration. But associated with that plate were +two clay pipes. Now the man who smokes a clay pipe is not only—as a +rule—a heavy smoker, but he smokes strong and dark-coloured tobacco. +And if he wears a dental plate, that plate becomes encrusted with a +black deposit which is very difficult to remove. There is, as you see, +no trace of any such deposit or of any tobacco stain in the +interstices of the teeth. It appeared to be almost certainly the plate +of a non-smoker. But if that were so, it could not be Reed’s. But it +had been ascertained by the police surgeon that it fitted the jaw of +the skull and undoubtedly belonged to the burned body. Consequently if +the plate was not Reed’s plate, the skull was not Reed’s skull, and +the body was not Reed’s body. But the watch-chain was Reed’s, the +pipes were his and the mascot was his. That is to say that the very +identifiable and fireproof property of Reed was associated with the +burned body of some other person; that, in other words, the body of +some unknown person had been deliberately prepared to counterfeit the +body of Reed. This offered a further suggestion and raised a question. +The suggestion was that the unknown person had been +murdered—presumably somewhere near the spot where the dental plate +was found. The question was—What was the object of causing the body +to counterfeit that of Reed? +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I knew, from the assurance company, that Reed had insured his +life for three thousand pounds. Therefore, somebody stood to gain +three thousand pounds by his death. The question was—Who was that +somebody? I proceeded to make certain investigations on the spot;” and +here Thorndyke gave a summary of our discoveries on the marsh and on +the yacht. “It thus appeared,” he continued, “that there were two men +on the marshes that night, going towards the rick. One of them was the +person whose body was found in the ashes; the other, who went back +alone to the yacht, was presumably the person who stood to gain three +thousand pounds by Reed’s death.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you formed any opinion as to who that person was?” the coroner +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “I have very little doubt that he was +Reginald Reed.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” exclaimed the coroner, “we have heard in evidence that it was +Mr. Arthur Gerrard who stood to gain the three thousand pounds!” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely,” said Thorndyke; and for awhile he and the coroner looked +at one another without speaking. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly the latter cast a searching look around the court. “Where +<i>is</i> Mr. Gerrard?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“He left the court about ten minutes ago,” said Thorndyke; “and the +police inspector left immediately afterwards. I had advised him not to +lose sight of Mr. Gerrard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I take it that you suspect Gerrard of being in collusion with +Reed?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suspect that Arthur Gerrard and Reginald Reed are one and the same +person.” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke made this statement, a murmur of astonishment arose from +the jurymen and the spectators. The coroner, after a few moments’ +puzzled reflection, remarked: “You are not forgetting that Reed’s +caretaker was present while Gerrard was giving his evidence?” Then, +turning to the caretaker, he asked: “What do you say? Was that Mr. +Reed who gave evidence under the name of Gerrard?” +</p> + +<p> +The caretaker, who had evidently been thinking furiously, was by no +means confident. “I should say not,” he replied, “unless he was made +up a good deal. He was certainly about the same height and build and +colour; but he had a moustache, whereas Mr. Reed was clean-shaved; he +had a mole on his face, which Mr. Reed hadn’t; he had bushy eyebrows, +whereas Mr. Reed had hardly any eyebrows to speak of; and he wore +spectacles, which Mr. Reed didn’t, and he spoke like an Irishman, +whereas Mr. Reed was English. Still it is possible——” +</p> + +<p> +Before he could finish, the door rattled to a heavy concussion. Then +it flew open, and Mr. Gerrard staggered into the room, thrust forward +by the police inspector. His appearance was marvellously changed, for +he had lost his spectacles, and one of his eyebrows had disappeared, +as had also the mole and a portion of the built-up moustache. The +caretaker started up with an exclamation, but at this moment Gerrard, +with a violent effort, wrenched himself free. The inspector sprang +forward to recapture him. But he was too late. The prisoner’s hand +flew upwards; there was a ringing report; and Arthur Gerrard—or +Reginald Reed—fell back across a bench with a trickle of blood on his +temple and a pistol still clutched in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“And so,” said Stalker, when he called on us the next day for details, +“it was a suicide after all. Very lucky, too, seeing that there was no +provision in the policy for death by judicial hanging.” +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +THE END +</p> + + +<h2> +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES +</h2> + +<p> +This book was published as <i>Dr. Thorndyke’s Case-Book</i> in the UK. +</p> + +<p> +Minor spelling inconsistencies (<i>e.g.</i> footpath/foot-path, finger +prints/finger-prints, etc.) have been preserved. +</p> + +<p class="noindent mt1"> +<b>Alterations to the text</b>: +</p> + +<p> +Abandon the use of drop-caps. +</p> + +<p> +Adjust some quotation mark pairings/nestings. +</p> + +<p> +Capitalize several instances of <i>doctor</i> and <i>superintendent</i> when +used in direct addresses. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter I] +</p> + +<p> +Change “That may have been lapis <i>luzuli</i>, but more probably” to +<i>lazuli</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>As</i> any rate, it is an heirloom, and I am loath to lose it” to <i>At</i>. +</p> + +<p> +(“Here is the Blowgraves’ place,” said Thorndyke. “nearly in the…”) +change the period to a comma. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter II] +</p> + +<p> +(“I think so, excepting that I <i>learn</i> from Foxton that…”) to +<i>learned</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter III] +</p> + +<p> +“we reached a rather dark first-<i>door</i> landing where” to <i>floor</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“Now what West Central place names end in ‘n.’ It was not a street…” +change the period to a question mark. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter V] +</p> + +<p> +(“who would successfully <i>practise</i> the scientific detection…”) to +<i>practice</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“a small telescopic jemmy, a jointed <i>augur</i>, a screwdriver and…” to +<i>auger</i>. +</p> + +<p> +(“He must be pretty tough. Shall we be able to see him.”) change the +second period to a question mark. +</p> + +<p> +“He continued to advance at <i>any</i> easy pace, and I noticed that” to +<i>an</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter VI] +</p> + +<p> +“And there’s something queer <i>agoing</i> on aboard of her” to <i>a-going</i>. +</p> + +<p> +(“This’ll do your trick, <i>master</i>. Here comes a Customs cruiser.”) to +<i>mister</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter VII] +</p> + +<p> +“Who is to contest his family’s claim.” change the period to a +question mark. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +[End of text] +</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76116 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76116-h/images/cover.jpg b/76116-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..148b272 --- /dev/null +++ b/76116-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/76116-h/images/img_017.jpg b/76116-h/images/img_017.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b0d02f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/76116-h/images/img_017.jpg diff --git a/76116-h/images/img_017_th.jpg b/76116-h/images/img_017_th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e36097b --- /dev/null +++ b/76116-h/images/img_017_th.jpg diff --git a/76116-h/images/img_035.jpg b/76116-h/images/img_035.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e699454 --- /dev/null +++ b/76116-h/images/img_035.jpg diff --git a/76116-h/images/img_035_th.jpg b/76116-h/images/img_035_th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed72ace --- /dev/null +++ b/76116-h/images/img_035_th.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5dba15 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this book outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd4b715 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +book #76116 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76116) |
