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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/76919-0.txt b/76919-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d5bbc5 --- /dev/null +++ b/76919-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8797 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76919 *** + + + + + + THE + MAGIC CASKET + + BY + R. AUSTIN FREEMAN + + + + + HODDER AND STOUGHTON + LIMITED LONDON + + + + + CONTENTS + + I. THE MAGIC CASKET + II. THE CONTENTS OF A MARE’S NEST + III. THE STALKING HORSE + IV. THE NATURALIST AT LAW + V. MR. PONTING’S ALIBI + VI. PANDORA’S BOX + VII. THE TRAIL OF BEHEMOTH + VIII. THE PATHOLOGIST TO THE RESCUE + IX. GLEANINGS FROM THE WRECKAGE + + + + + I. + THE MAGIC CASKET + +It was in the near neighbourhood of King’s Road, Chelsea, that +chance, aided by Thorndyke’s sharp and observant eyes, introduced us +to the dramatic story of the Magic Casket. Not that there was anything +strikingly dramatic in the opening phase of the affair, nor even in +the story of the casket itself. It was Thorndyke who added the +dramatic touch, and most of the magic, too; and I record the affair +principally as an illustration of his extraordinary capacity for +producing odd items of out-of-the-way knowledge and instantly applying +them in the most unexpected manner. + +Eight o’clock had struck on a misty November night when we turned out +of the main road, and, leaving behind the glare of the shop windows, +plunged into the maze of dark and narrow streets to the north. The +abrupt change impressed us both, and Thorndyke proceeded to moralize +on it in his pleasant, reflective fashion. + +“London is an inexhaustible place,” he mused. “Its variety is +infinite. A minute ago we walked in a glare of light, jostled by a +multitude. And now look at this little street. It is as dim as a +tunnel, and we have got it absolutely to ourselves. Anything might +happen in a place like this.” + +Suddenly he stopped. We were, at the moment, passing a small church or +chapel, the west door of which was enclosed in an open porch; and as +my observant friend stepped into the latter and stooped, I perceived, +in the deep shadow against the wall, the object which had evidently +caught his eye. + +“What is it?” I asked, following him in. + +“It is a handbag,” he replied; “and the question is, what is it doing +here?” + +He tried the church door, which was obviously locked, and coming out, +looked at the windows. + +“There are no lights in the church,” said he; “the place is locked up, +and there is nobody in sight. Apparently the bag is derelict. Shall we +have a look at it?” + +Without waiting for an answer, he picked it up and brought it out into +the mitigated darkness of the street, where we proceeded to inspect +it. But at the first glance it told its own tale; for it had evidently +been locked, and it bore unmistakable traces of having been forced +open. + +“It isn’t empty,” said Thorndyke. “I think we had better see what is +in it. Just catch hold while I get a light.” + +He handed me the bag while he felt in his pocket for the tiny electric +lamp which he made a habit of carrying--and an excellent habit it is. +I held the mouth of the bag open while he illuminated the interior, +which we then saw to be occupied by several objects neatly wrapped in +brown paper. One of these Thorndyke lifted out, and untying the string +and removing the paper, displayed a Chinese stoneware jar. Attached to +it was a label, bearing the stamp of the Victoria and Albert Museum, +on which was written: + + + “Miss Mabel Bonney, + 168 Willow Walk, Fulham Road, W.” + + +“That tells us all that we want to know,” said Thorndyke, re-wrapping +the jar and tenderly replacing it in the bag. “We can’t do wrong in +delivering the things to their owner, especially as the bag itself is +evidently her property, too,” and he pointed to the gilt initials, +“M.B.”, stamped on the morocco. + +It took us but a few minutes to reach the Fulham Road, but we then had +to walk nearly a mile along that thoroughfare before we arrived at +Willow Walk--to which an obliging shopkeeper had directed us; and, +naturally, No. 168 was at the farther end. + +As we turned into the quiet street we almost collided with two men, +who were walking at a rapid pace, but both looking back over their +shoulders. I noticed that they were both Japanese--well-dressed, +gentlemanly-looking men--but I gave them little attention, being +interested, rather, in what they were looking at. This was a taxi-cab +which was dimly visible by the light of a street lamp at the farther +end of the “Walk,” and from which four persons had just alighted. Two +of these had hurried ahead to knock at a door, while the other two +walked very slowly across the pavement and up the steps to the +threshold. Almost immediately the door was opened; two of the shadowy +figures entered, and the other two returned slowly to the cab; and as +we came nearer, I could see that these latter were policemen in +uniform. I had just time to note this fact when they both got into the +cab and were forthwith spirited away. + +“Looks like a street accident of some kind,” I remarked; and then, as +I glanced at the number of the house we were passing, I added: “Now, I +wonder if that house happens to be--yes, by Jove! it is. It is 168! +Things have been happening, and this bag of ours is one of the +dramatis personæ.” + +The response to our knock was by no means prompt. I was, in fact, in +the act of raising my hand to the knocker to repeat the summons when +the door opened and revealed an elderly servant-maid, who regarded us +inquiringly, and, as I thought, with something approaching alarm. + +“Does Miss Mabel Bonney live here?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Yes, sir,” was the reply; “but I am afraid you can’t see her just +now, unless it is something urgent. She is rather upset, and +particularly engaged at present.” + +“There is no occasion whatever to disturb her,” said Thorndyke. “We +have merely called to restore this bag, which seemed to have been +lost;” and with this he held it out towards her. She grasped it +eagerly, with a cry of surprise, and as the mouth fell open, she +peered into it. + +“Why,” she exclaimed, “they don’t seem to have taken anything, after +all. Where did you find it, sir?” + +“In the porch of a church in Spelton Street,” Thorndyke replied, and +was turning away when the servant said earnestly: + +“Would you kindly give me your name and address, sir? Miss Bonney will +wish to write and thank you.” + +“There is really no need,” said he; but she interrupted anxiously: + +“If you would be so kind, sir. Miss Bonney will be so vexed if she is +unable to thank you; and besides, she may want to ask you some +questions about it.” + +“That is true,” said Thorndyke (who was restrained only by good +manners from asking one or two questions, himself). He produced his +card-case, and having handed one of his cards to the maid, wished her +“good evening” and retired. + +“That bag had evidently been pinched,” I remarked, as we walked back +towards the Fulham Road. + +“Evidently,” he agreed, and was about to enlarge on the matter when +our attention was attracted to a taxi, which was approaching from the +direction of the main road. A man’s head was thrust out of the window, +and as the vehicle passed a street lamp, I observed that the head +appertained to an elderly gentleman with very white hair and a very +fresh-coloured face. + +“Did you see who that was?” Thorndyke asked. + +“It looked like old Brodribb,” I replied. + +“It did; very much. I wonder where he is off to.” + +He turned and followed, with a speculative eye, the receding taxi, +which presently swept alongside the kerb and stopped, apparently +opposite the house from which we had just come. As the vehicle came to +rest, the door flew open and the passenger shot out like an elderly, +but agile, Jack-in-the-box, and bounced up the steps. + +“That is Brodribb’s knock, sure enough,” said I, as the old-fashioned +flourish reverberated up the quiet street. “I have heard it too often +on our own knocker to mistake it. But we had better not let him see us +watching him.” + +As we went once more on our way, I took a sly glance, now and again, +at my friend, noting with a certain malicious enjoyment his profoundly +cogitative air. I knew quite well what was happening in his mind; for +his mind reacted to observed facts in an invariable manner. And here +was a group of related facts: the bag, stolen, but deposited intact; +the museum label; the injured or sick person--probably Miss Bonney, +herself--brought home under police escort; and the arrival, +post-haste, of the old lawyer; a significant group of facts. And there +was Thorndyke, under my amused and attentive observation, fitting them +together in various combinations to see what general conclusion +emerged. Apparently my own mental state was equally clear to him, for +he remarked, presently, as if replying to an unspoken comment: + +“Well, I expect we shall know all about it before many days have +passed if Brodribb sees my card, as he most probably will. Here comes +an omnibus that will suit us. Shall we hop on?” + +He stood at the kerb and raised his stick; and as the accommodation on +the omnibus was such that our seats were separated, there was no +opportunity to pursue the subject further, even if there had been +anything to discuss. + +But Thorndyke’s prediction was justified sooner than I had expected. +For we had not long finished our supper, and had not yet closed the +“oak,” when there was heard a mighty flourish on the knocker of our +inner door. + +“Brodribb, by Jingo!” I exclaimed, and hurried across the room to let +him in. + +“No, Jervis,” he said as I invited him to enter, “I am not coming in. +Don’t want to disturb you at this time of night. I’ve just called to +make an appointment for to-morrow with a client.” + +“Is the client’s name Bonney?” I asked. + +He started and gazed at me in astonishment. “Gad, Jervis!” he +exclaimed, “you are getting as bad as Thorndyke. How the deuce did you +know that she was my client?” + +“Never mind how I know. It is our business to know everything in these +chambers. But if your appointment concerns Miss Mabel Bonney, for the +Lord’s sake come in and give Thorndyke a chance of a night’s rest. At +present, he is on broken bottles, as Mr. Bumble would express it.” + +On this persuasion, Mr. Brodribb entered, nothing loath--very much the +reverse, in fact--and having bestowed a jovial greeting on Thorndyke, +glanced approvingly round the room. + +“Ha!” said he, “you look very cosy. If you are really sure I am +not----” + +I cut him short by propelling him gently towards the fire, beside +which I deposited him in an easy chair, while Thorndyke pressed the +electric bell which rang up in the laboratory. + +“Well,” said Brodribb, spreading himself out comfortably before the +fire like a handsome old Tom-cat, “if you are going to let me give you +a few particulars--but perhaps you would rather that I should not talk +shop.” + +“Now you know perfectly well, Brodribb,” said Thorndyke, “that ‘shop’ +is the breath of life to us all. Let us have those particulars.” + +Brodribb sighed contentedly and placed his toes on the fender (and at +this moment the door opened softly and Polton looked into the room. He +took a single, understanding glance at our visitor and withdrew, +shutting the door without a sound.) + +“I am glad,” pursued Brodribb, “to have this opportunity of a +preliminary chat, because there are certain things that one can say +better when the client is not present; and I am deeply interested in +Miss Bonney’s affairs. The crisis in those affairs which has brought +me here is of quite recent date--in fact, it dates from this evening. +But I know your partiality for having events related in their proper +sequence, so I will leave to-day’s happenings for the moment and tell +you the story--the whole of which is material to the case--from the +beginning.” + +Here there was a slight interruption, due to Polton’s noiseless entry +with a tray on which was a decanter, a biscuit box, and three port +glasses. This he deposited on a small table, which he placed within +convenient reach of our guest. Then, with a glance of altruistic +satisfaction at our old friend, he stole out like a benevolent ghost. + +“Dear, dear!” exclaimed Brodribb, beaming on the decanter, “this is +really too bad. You ought not to indulge me in this way.” + +“My dear Brodribb,” replied Thorndyke, “you are a benefactor to us. +You give us a pretext for taking a glass of port. We can’t drink +alone, you know.” + +“I should, if I had a cellar like yours,” chuckled Brodribb, sniffing +ecstatically at his glass. He took a sip, with his eyes closed, +savoured it solemnly, shook his head, and set the glass down on the +table. + +“To return to our case,” he resumed; “Miss Bonney is the daughter of a +solicitor, Harold Bonney--you may remember him. He had offices in +Bedford Row; and there, one morning, a client came to him and asked +him to take care of some property while he, the said client, ran over +to Paris, where he had some urgent business. The property in question +was a collection of pearls of most unusual size and value, forming a +great necklace, which had been unstrung for the sake of portability. +It is not clear where they came from, but as the transaction occurred +soon after the Russian Revolution, we may make a guess. At any rate, +there they were, packed loosely in a leather bag, the string of which +was sealed with the owner’s seal. + +“Bonney seems to have been rather casual about the affair. He gave the +client a receipt for the bag, stating the nature of the contents, +which he had not seen, and deposited it, in the client’s presence, in +the safe in his private office. Perhaps he intended to take it to the +bank or transfer it to his strong-room, but it is evident that he did +neither; for his managing clerk, who kept the second key of the +strong-room--without which the room could not be opened--knew nothing +of the transaction. When he went home at about seven o’clock, he left +Bonney hard at work in his office, and there is no doubt that the +pearls were still in the safe. + +“That night, at about a quarter to nine, it happened that a couple of +C.I.D. officers were walking up Bedford Row when they saw three men +come out of one of the houses. Two of them turned up towards +Theobald’s Road, but the third came south, towards them. As he passed +them, they both recognized him as a Japanese named Uyenishi, who was +believed to be a member of a cosmopolitan gang and whom the police +were keeping under observation. Naturally, their suspicions were +aroused. The first two men had hurried round the corner and were out +of sight; and when they turned to look after Uyenishi, he had mended +his pace considerably and was looking back at them. Thereupon one of +the officers, named Barker, decided to follow the Jap, while the +other, Holt, reconnoitred the premises. + +“Now, as soon as Barker turned, the Japanese broke into a run. It was +just such a night as this: dark and slightly foggy. In order to keep +his man in sight, Barker had to run, too; and he found that he had a +sprinter to deal with. From the bottom of Bedford Row, Uyenishi darted +across and shot down Hand Court like a lamplighter. Barker followed, +but at the Holborn end his man was nowhere to be seen. However, he +presently learned from a man at a shop door that the fugitive had run +past and turned up Brownlow Street, so off he went again in pursuit. +But when he got to the top of the street, back in Bedford Row, he was +done. There was no sign of the man, and no one about from whom he +could make inquiries. All he could do was to cross the road and walk +up Bedford Row to see if Holt had made any discoveries. + +“As he was trying to identify the house, his colleague came out on to +the doorstep and beckoned him in; and this was the story that he told. +He had recognized the house by the big lamp-standard; and as the place +was all dark, he had gone into the entry and tried the office door. +Finding it unlocked, he had entered the clerks’ office, lit the gas, +and tried the door of the private office, but found it locked. He +knocked at it, but getting no answer, had a good look round the +clerks’ office; and there, presently, on the floor in a dark corner, +he found a key. This he tried in the door of the private office, and +finding that it fitted, turned it and opened the door. As he did so, +the light from the outer office fell on the body of a man lying on the +floor just inside. + +“A moment’s inspection showed that the man had been murdered--first +knocked on the head and then finished with a knife. Examination of the +pockets showed that the dead man was Harold Bonney, and also that no +robbery from the person seemed to have been committed. Nor was there +any sign of any other kind of robbery. Nothing seemed to have been +disturbed, and the safe had not been broken into, though that was not +very conclusive, as the safe key was in the dead man’s pocket. +However, a murder had been committed, and obviously Uyenishi was +either the murderer or an accessory; so Holt had, at once, rung up +Scotland Yard on the office telephone, giving all the particulars. + +“I may say at once that Uyenishi disappeared completely and at once. +He never went to his lodgings at Limehouse, for the police were there +before he could have arrived. A lively hue and cry was kept up. +Photographs of the wanted man were posted outside every +police-station, and a watch was set at all the ports. But he was never +found. He must have got away at once on some outward-bound tramp from +the Thames. And there we will leave him for the moment. + +“At first it was thought that nothing had been stolen, since the +managing clerk could not discover that anything was missing. But a few +days later the client returned from Paris, and presenting his receipt, +asked for his pearls. But the pearls had vanished. Clearly they had +been the object of the crime. The robbers must have known about them +and traced them to the office. Of course the safe had been opened with +its own key, which was then replaced in the dead man’s pocket. + +“Now, I was poor Bonney’s executor, and in that capacity I denied his +liability in respect of the pearls on the ground that he was a +gratuitous bailee--there being no evidence that any consideration had +been demanded--and that being murdered cannot be construed as +negligence. But Miss Mabel, who was practically the sole legatee, +insisted on accepting liability. She said that the pearls could have +been secured in the bank or the strong-room, and that she was morally, +if not legally, liable for their loss; and she insisted on handing to +the owner the full amount at which he valued them. It was a wildly +foolish proceeding, for he would certainly have accepted half the sum. +But still, I take my hat off to a person--man or woman--who can accept +poverty in preference to a broken covenant”; and here Brodribb, being +in fact, that sort of person himself, had to be consoled with a +replenished glass. + +“And mind you,” he resumed, “when I speak of poverty, I wish to be +taken literally. The estimated value of those pearls was fifty +thousand pounds--if you can imagine anyone out of Bedlam giving such a +sum for a parcel of trash like that; and when poor Mabel Bonney had +paid it, she was left with the prospect of having to spread her butter +mighty thin for the rest of her life. As a matter of fact, she has had +to sell one after another of her little treasures to pay just her +current expenses, and I’m hanged if I can see how she is going to +carry on when she has sold the last of them. But there, I mustn’t take +up your time with her private troubles. Let us return to our muttons. + +“First, as to the pearls. They were never traced, and it seems +probable that they were never disposed of. For, you see, pearls are +different from any other kind of gems. You can cut up a big diamond, +but you can’t cut up a big pearl. And the great value of this necklace +was due not only to the size, the perfect shape and ‘orient’ of the +separate pearls, but to the fact that the whole set was perfectly +matched. To break up the necklace was to destroy a good part of its +value. + +“And now as to our friend Uyenishi. He disappeared, as I have said; +but he reappeared at Los Angeles, in custody of the police, charged +with robbery and murder. He was taken red-handed and was duly +convicted and sentenced to death; but for some reason--or more +probably, for no reason, as we should think--the sentence was commuted +to imprisonment for life. Under these circumstances, the English +police naturally took no action, especially as they really had no +evidence against him. + +“Now Uyenishi was, by trade, a metal-worker; a maker of those pretty +trifles that are so dear to the artistic Japanese, and when he was in +prison he was allowed to set up a little workshop and practise his +trade on a small scale. Among other things that he made was a little +casket in the form of a seated figure, which he said he wanted to give +to his brother as a keepsake. I don’t know whether any permission was +granted for him to make this gift, but that is of no consequence; for +Uyenishi got influenza and was carried off in a few days by pneumonia; +and the prison authorities learned that his brother had been killed, a +week or two previously, in a shooting affair at San Francisco. So the +casket remained on their hands. + +“About this time, Miss Bonney was invited to accompany an American +lady on a visit to California, and accepted gratefully. While she was +there she paid a visit to the prison to inquire whether Uyenishi had +ever made any kind of statement concerning the missing pearls. Here +she heard of Uyenishi’s recent death; and the governor of the prison, +as he could not give her any information, handed over to her the +casket as a sort of memento. This transaction came to the knowledge of +the press, and--well, you know what the Californian press is like. +There were ‘some comments,’ as they would say, and quite an assortment +of Japanese, of shady antecedents, applied at the prison to have the +casket ‘restored’ to them as Uyenishi’s heirs. Then Miss Bonney’s +rooms at the hotel were raided by burglars--but the casket was in the +hotel strong-room--and Miss Bonney and her hostess were shadowed by +various undesirables in such a disturbing fashion that the two ladies +became alarmed and secretly made their way to New York. But there +another burglary occurred, with the same unsuccessful result, and the +shadowing began again. Finally, Miss Bonney, feeling that her presence +was a danger to her friend, decided to return to England, and managed +to get on board the ship without letting her departure be known in +advance. + +“But even in England she has not been left in peace. She has had an +uncomfortable feeling of being watched and attended, and has seemed to +be constantly meeting Japanese men in the streets, especially in the +vicinity of her house. Of course, all the fuss is about this infernal +casket; and when she told me what was happening, I promptly popped the +thing in my pocket and took it to my office, where I stowed it in the +strong-room. And there, of course, it ought to have remained. But it +didn’t. One day Miss Bonney told me that she was sending some small +things to a loan exhibition of oriental works of art at the South +Kensington Museum, and she wished to include the casket. I urged her +strongly to do nothing of the kind, but she persisted; and the end of +it was that we went to the museum together, with her pottery and stuff +in a handbag and the casket in my pocket. + +“It was a most imprudent thing to do, for there the beastly casket +was, for several months, exposed in a glass case for anyone to see, +with her name on the label; and what was worse, full particulars of +the origin of the thing. However, nothing happened while it was +there--the museum is not an easy place to steal from--and all went +well until it was time to remove the things after the close of the +exhibition. Now, to-day was the appointed day, and, as on the previous +occasion, she and I went to the museum together. But the unfortunate +thing is that we didn’t come away together. Her other exhibits were +all pottery, and these were dealt with first, so that she had her +handbag packed and was ready to go before they had begun on the +metal-work cases. As we were not going the same way, it didn’t seem +necessary for her to wait; so she went off with her bag and I stayed +behind until the casket was released, when I put it in my pocket and +went home, where I locked the thing up again in the strong-room. + +“It was about seven when I got home. A little after eight I heard the +telephone ring down in the office, and down I went, cursing the +untimely ringer, who turned out to be a policeman at St. George’s +Hospital. He said he had found Miss Bonney lying unconscious in the +street and had taken her to the hospital, where she had been detained +for a while, but she was now recovered and he was taking her home. She +would like me, if possible, to go and see her at once. Well, of +course, I set off forthwith and got to her house a few minutes after +her arrival, and just after you had left. + +“She was a good deal upset, so I didn’t worry her with many questions, +but she gave me a short account of her misadventure, which amounted to +this: She had started to walk home from the museum along the Brompton +Road, and she was passing down a quiet street between that and Fulham +Road when she heard soft footsteps behind her. The next moment, a +scarf or shawl was thrown over her head and drawn tightly round her +neck. At the same moment, the bag was snatched from her hand. That is +all that she remembers, for she was half-suffocated and so terrified +that she fainted, and knew no more until she found herself in a cab +with two policemen, who were taking her to the hospital. + +“Now it is obvious that her assailants were in search of that damned +casket, for the bag had been broken open and searched, but nothing +taken or damaged; which suggests the Japanese again, for a British +thief would have smashed the crockery. I found your card there, and I +put it to Miss Bonney that we had better ask you to help us--I told +her all about you--and she agreed emphatically. So that is why I am +here, drinking your port and robbing you of your night’s rest.” + +“And what do you want me to do?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Whatever you think best,” was the cheerful reply. “In the first +place, this nuisance must be put a stop to--this shadowing and hanging +about. But apart from that, you must see that there is something queer +about this accursed casket. The beastly thing is of no intrinsic +value. The museum man turned up his nose at it. But it evidently has +some extrinsic value, and no small value either. If it is good enough +for these devils to follow it all the way from the States, as they +seem to have done, it is good enough for us to try to find out what +its value is. That is where you come in. I propose to bring Miss +Bonney to see you to-morrow, and I will bring the infernal casket, +too. Then you will ask her a few questions, take a look at the +casket--through the microscope, if necessary--and tell us all about it +in your usual necromantic way.” + +Thorndyke laughed as he refilled our friend’s glass. “If faith will +move mountains, Brodribb,” said he, “you ought to have been a civil +engineer. But it is certainly a rather intriguing problem.” + +“Ha!” exclaimed the old solicitor; “then it’s all right. I’ve known +you a good many years, but I’ve never known you to be stumped; and you +are not going to be stumped now. What time shall I bring her? +Afternoon or evening would suit her best.” + +“Very well,” replied Thorndyke; “bring her to tea--say, five o’clock. +How will that do?” + +“Excellently; and here’s good luck to the adventure.” He drained his +glass, and the decanter being now empty, he rose, shook our hands +warmly, and took his departure in high spirits. + +It was with a very lively interest that I looked forward to the +prospective visit. Like Thorndyke, I found the case rather intriguing. +For it was quite clear, as our shrewd old friend had said, that there +was something more than met the eye in the matter of this casket. +Hence, on the following afternoon, when, on the stroke of five, +footsteps became audible on our stairs, I awaited the arrival of our +new client with keen curiosity, both as to herself and her mysterious +property. + +To tell the truth, the lady was better worth looking at than the +casket. At the first glance, I was strongly prepossessed in her +favour, and so, I think, was Thorndyke. Not that she was a beauty, +though comely enough. But she was an example of a type that seems to +be growing rarer; quiet, gentle, soft-spoken, and a lady to her +finger-tips; a little sad-faced and care-worn, with a streak or two of +white in her prettily-disposed black hair, though she could not have +been much over thirty-five. Altogether a very gracious and winning +personality. + +When we had been presented to her by Brodribb--who treated her as if +she had been a royal personage--and had enthroned her in the most +comfortable easy-chair, we inquired as to her health, and were duly +thanked for the salvage of the bag. Then Polton brought in the tray, +with an air that seemed to demand an escort of choristers; the tea was +poured out, and the informal proceedings began. + +She had not, however, much to tell; for she had not seen her +assailants, and the essential facts of the case had been fully +presented in Brodribb’s excellent summary. After a very few questions, +therefore, we came to the next stage; which was introduced by +Brodribb’s taking from his pocket a small parcel which he proceeded to +open. + +“There,” said he, “that is the _fons et origo mali_. Not much to look +at, I think you will agree.” He set the object down on the table and +glared at it malevolently, while Thorndyke and I regarded it with a +more impersonal interest. It was not much to look at. Just an ordinary +Japanese casket in the form of a squat, shapeless figure with a silly +little grinning face, of which the head and shoulders opened on a +hinge; a pleasant enough object, with its quiet, warm colouring, but +certainly not a masterpiece of art. + +Thorndyke picked it up and turned it over slowly for a preliminary +inspection; then he went on to examine it detail by detail, watched +closely, in his turn, by Brodribb and me. Slowly and methodically, his +eye--fortified by a watchmaker’s eyeglass--travelled over every part +of the exterior. Then he opened it, and having examined the inside of +the lid, scrutinized the bottom from within, long and attentively. +Finally, he turned the casket upside down and examined the bottom from +without, giving to it the longest and most rigorous inspection of +all--which puzzled me somewhat, for the bottom was absolutely plain. +At length, he passed the casket and the eyeglass to me without +comment. + +“Well,” said Brodribb, “what is the verdict?” + +“It is of no value as a work of art,” replied Thorndyke. “The body and +lid are just castings of common white metal--an antimony alloy, I +should say. The bronze colour is lacquer.” + +“So the museum man remarked,” said Brodribb. + +“But,” continued Thorndyke, “there is one very odd thing about it. The +only piece of fine metal in it is in the part which matters least. The +bottom is a separate plate of the alloy known to the Japanese as +Shakudo--an alloy of copper and gold.” + +“Yes,” said Brodribb, “the museum man noted that, too, and couldn’t +make out why it had been put there.” + +“Then,” Thorndyke continued, “there is another anomalous feature; the +inside of the bottom is covered with elaborate decoration--just the +place where decoration is most inappropriate, since it would be +covered up by the contents of the casket. And, again, this decoration +is etched; not engraved or chased. But etching is a very unusual +process for this purpose, if it is ever used at all by Japanese +metal-workers. My impression is that it is not; for it is most +unsuitable for decorative purposes. That is all that I observe, so +far.” + +“And what do you infer from your observations?” Brodribb asked. + +“I should like to think the matter over,” was the reply. “There is an +obvious anomaly, which must have some significance. But I won’t embark +on speculative opinions at this stage. I should like, however, to take +one or two photographs of the casket, for reference; but that will +occupy some time. You will hardly want to wait so long.” + +“No,” said Brodribb. “But Miss Bonney is coming with me to my office +to go over some documents and discuss a little business. When we have +finished, I will come back and fetch the confounded thing.” + +“There is no need for that,” replied Thorndyke. “As soon as I have +done what is necessary, I will bring it up to your place.” + +To this arrangement Brodribb agreed readily, and he and his client +prepared to depart. I rose, too, and as I happened to have a call to +make in Old Square, Lincoln’s Inn, I asked permission to walk with +them. + +As we came out into King’s Bench Walk I noticed a smallish, +gentlemanly-looking man who had just passed our entry and now turned +in at the one next door; and by the light of the lamp in the entry he +looked to me like a Japanese. I thought Miss Bonney had observed him, +too, but she made no remark, and neither did I. But, passing up Inner +Temple Lane, we nearly overtook two other men, who--though I got but a +back view of them and the light was feeble enough--aroused my +suspicions by their neat, small figures. As we approached, they +quickened their pace, and one of them looked back over his shoulder; +and then my suspicions were confirmed, for it was an unmistakable +Japanese face that looked round at us. Miss Bonney saw that I had +observed the men, for she remarked, as they turned sharply at the +Cloisters and entered Pump Court: + +“You see, I am still haunted by Japanese.” + +“I noticed them,” said Brodribb. “They are probably law students. But +we may as well be companionable;” and with this, he, too, headed for +Pump Court. + +We followed our oriental friends across the Lane into Fountain Court, +and through that and Devereux Court out to Temple Bar, where we parted +from them; they turning westward and we crossing to Bell Yard, up +which we walked, entering New Square by the Carey Street gate. At +Brodribb’s doorway we halted and looked back, but no one was in sight. +I accordingly went my way, promising to return anon to hear +Thorndyke’s report, and the lawyer and his client disappeared through +the portal. + +My business occupied me longer than I had expected, but nevertheless, +when I arrived at Brodribb’s premises--where he lived in chambers over +his office--Thorndyke had not yet made his appearance. A quarter of an +hour later, however, we heard his brisk steps on the stairs, and as +Brodribb threw the door open, he entered and produced the casket from +his pocket. + +“Well,” said Brodribb, taking it from him and locking it, for the time +being, in a drawer, “has the oracle spoken; and if so, what did he +say?” + +“Oracles,” replied Thorndyke, “have a way of being more concise than +explicit. Before I attempt to interpret the message, I should like to +view the scene of the escape; to see if there was any intelligible +reason why this man, Uyenishi, should have returned up Brownlow Street +into what must have been the danger zone. I think that is a material +question.” + +“Then,” said Brodribb, with evident eagerness, “let us all walk up and +have a look at the confounded place. It is quite close by.” + +We all agreed instantly, two of us, at least, being on the tip-toe of +expectation. For Thorndyke, who habitually understated his results, +had virtually admitted that the casket had told him something; and as +we walked up the Square to the gate in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, I watched +him furtively, trying to gather from his impassive face a hint as to +what the something amounted to, and wondering how the movements of the +fugitive bore on the solution of the mystery. Brodribb was similarly +occupied, and as we crossed from Great Turnstile and took our way up +Brownlow Street, I could see that his excitement was approaching +bursting-point. + +At the top of the street Thorndyke paused and looked up and down the +rather dismal thoroughfare which forms a continuation of Bedford Row +and bears its name. Then he crossed to the paved island surrounding +the pump which stands in the middle of the road, and from thence +surveyed the entrances to Brownlow Street and Hand Court; and then he +turned and looked thoughtfully at the pump. + +“A quaint old survivor, this,” he remarked, tapping the iron shell +with his knuckles. “There is a similar one, you may remember, in Queen +Square, and another at Aldgate. But that is still in use.” + +“Yes,” Brodribb assented, almost dancing with impatience and inwardly +damning the pump, as I could see, “I’ve noticed it.” + +“I suppose,” Thorndyke proceeded, in a reflective tone, “they had to +remove the handle. But it was rather a pity.” + +“Perhaps it was,” growled Brodribb, whose complexion was rapidly +developing affinities to that of a pickled cabbage, “but what the +d----” + +Here he broke off short and glared silently at Thorndyke, who had +raised his arm and squeezed his hand into the opening once occupied by +the handle. He groped in the interior with an expression of placid +interest, and presently reported: “The barrel is still there, and so, +apparently, is the plunger--” (Here I heard Brodribb mutter huskily, +“Damn the barrel and the plunger too!”) “but my hand is rather large +for the exploration. Would you, Miss Bonney, mind slipping your hand +in and telling me if I am right?” + +We all gazed at Thorndyke in dismay, but in a moment Miss Bonney +recovered from her astonishment, and with a deprecating smile, half +shy, half amused, she slipped off her glove, and reaching up--it was +rather high for her--inserted her hand into the narrow slit. Brodribb +glared at her and gobbled like a turkey-cock, and I watched her with a +sudden suspicion that something was going to happen. Nor was I +mistaken. For, as I looked, the shy, puzzled smile faded from her face +and was succeeded by an expression of incredulous astonishment. Slowly +she withdrew her hand, and as it came out of the slit it dragged +something after it. I started forward, and by the light of the lamp +above the pump I could see that the object was a leather bag secured +by a string from which hung a broken seal. + +“It can’t be!” she gasped as, with trembling fingers, she untied the +string. Then, as she peered into the open mouth, she uttered a little +cry. + +“It is! It is! It is the necklace!” + +Brodribb was speechless with amazement. So was I; and I was still +gazing open-mouthed at the bag in Miss Bonney’s hands when I felt +Thorndyke touch my arm. I turned quickly and found him offering me an +automatic pistol. + +“Stand by, Jervis,” he said quietly, looking towards Gray’s Inn. + +I looked in the same direction, and then perceived three men stealing +round the corner from Jockey’s Fields. Brodribb saw them, too, and +snatching the bag of pearls from his client’s hands, buttoned it into +his breast pocket and placed himself before its owner, grasping his +stick with a war-like air. The three men filed along the pavement +until they were opposite us, when they turned simultaneously and bore +down on the pump, each man, as I noticed, holding his right hand +behind him. In a moment, Thorndyke’s hand, grasping a pistol, flew +up--as did mine, also--and he called out sharply: + +“Stop! If any man moves a hand, I fire.” + +The challenge brought them up short, evidently unprepared for this +kind of reception. What would have happened next it is impossible to +guess. But at this moment a police whistle sounded and two constables +ran out from Hand Court. The whistle was instantly echoed from the +direction of Warwick Court, whence two more constabulary figures +appeared through the postern gate of Gray’s Inn. Our three attendants +hesitated but for an instant. Then, with one accord, they turned tail +and flew like the wind round into Jockey’s Fields, with the whole +posse of constables close on their heels. + +“Remarkable coincidence,” said Brodribb, “that those policemen should +happen to be on the look-out. Or isn’t it a coincidence?” + +“I telephoned to the station superintendent before I started,” replied +Thorndyke, “warning him of a possible breach of the peace at this +spot.” + +Brodribb chuckled. “You’re a wonderful man, Thorndyke. You think of +everything. I wonder if the police will catch those fellows.” + +“It is no concern of ours,” replied Thorndyke. “We’ve got the pearls, +and that finishes the business. There will be no more shadowing, in +any case.” + +Miss Bonney heaved a comfortable little sigh and glanced gratefully at +Thorndyke. “You can have no idea what a relief that is!” she +exclaimed; “to say nothing of the treasure-trove.” + +We waited some time, but as neither the fugitives nor the constables +reappeared, we presently made our way back down Brownlow Street. And +there it was that Brodribb had an inspiration. + +“I’ll tell you what,” said he. “I will just pop these things in my +strong-room--they will be perfectly safe there until the bank opens +to-morrow--and then we’ll go and have a nice little dinner. I’ll pay +the piper.” + +“Indeed you won’t!” exclaimed Miss Bonney. “This is my thanksgiving +festival, and the benevolent wizard shall be the guest of the +evening.” + +“Very well, my dear,” agreed Brodribb. “I will pay and charge it to +the estate. But I stipulate that the benevolent wizard shall tell us +exactly what the oracle said. That is essential to the preservation of +my sanity.” + +“You shall have his _ipsissima verba_,” Thorndyke promised; and the +resolution was carried, _nem. con._ + +An hour and a half later we were seated around a table in a private +room of a café to which Mr. Brodribb had conducted us. I may not +divulge its whereabouts, though I may, perhaps, hint that we +approached it by way of Wardour Street. At any rate, we had dined, +even to the fulfilment of Brodribb’s ideal, and coffee and liqueurs +furnished a sort of gastronomic doxology. Brodribb had lighted a cigar +and Thorndyke had produced a vicious-looking little black cheroot, +which he regarded fondly and then returned to its abiding-place as +unsuited to the present company. + +“Now,” said Brodribb, watching Thorndyke fill his pipe (as understudy +of the cheroot aforesaid), “we are waiting to hear the words of the +oracle.” + +“You shall hear them,” Thorndyke replied. “There were only five of +them. But first, there are certain introductory matters to be disposed +of. The solution of this problem is based on two well-known physical +facts, one metallurgical and the other optical.” + +“Ha!” said Brodribb. “But you must temper the wind to the shorn lamb, +you know, Thorndyke. Miss Bonney and I are not scientists.” + +“I will put the matter quite simply, but you must have the facts. The +first relates to the properties of malleable metals--excepting iron +and steel--and especially of copper and its alloys. If a plate of such +metal or alloy--say, bronze, for instance--is made red-hot and +quenched in water, it becomes quite soft and flexible--the reverse of +what happens in the case of iron. Now, if such a plate of softened +metal be placed on a steel anvil and hammered, it becomes extremely +hard and brittle.” + +“I follow that,” said Brodribb. + +“Then see what follows. If, instead of hammering the soft plate, you +put on it the edge of a blunt chisel and strike on that chisel a sharp +blow, you produce an indented line. Now the plate remains soft; but +the metal forming the indented line has been hammered and has become +hard. There is now a line of hard metal on the soft plate. Is that +clear?” + +“Perfectly,” replied Brodribb; and Thorndyke accordingly continued: + +“The second fact is this: If a beam of light falls on a polished +surface which reflects it, and if that surface is turned through a +given angle, the beam of light is deflected through double that +angle.” + +“H’m!” grunted Brodribb. “Yes. No doubt. I hope we are not going to +get into any deeper waters, Thorndyke.” + +“We are not,” replied the latter, smiling urbanely. “We are now going +to consider the application of these facts. Have you ever seen a +Japanese magic mirror?” + +“Never; nor even heard of such a thing.” + +“They are bronze mirrors, just like the ancient Greek or Etruscan +mirrors--which are probably ‘magic’ mirrors, too. A typical specimen +consists of a circular or oval plate of bronze, highly polished on the +face and decorated on the back with chased ornament--commonly a dragon +or some such device--and furnished with a handle. The ornament is, as +I have said, chased; that is to say, it is executed in indented lines +made with chasing tools, which are, in effect, small chisels, more or +less blunt, which are struck with a chasing-hammer. + +“Now these mirrors have a very singular property. Although the face is +perfectly plain, as a mirror should be, yet, if a beam of sunlight is +caught on it and reflected, say, on to a white wall, the round or oval +patch of light on the wall is not a plain light patch. It shows quite +clearly the ornament on the back of the mirror.” + +“But how extraordinary!” exclaimed Miss Bonney. “It sounds quite +incredible.” + +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed. “And yet the explanation is quite simple. +Professor Sylvanus Thompson pointed it out years ago. It is based on +the facts which I have just stated to you. The artist who makes one of +these mirrors begins, naturally, by annealing the metal until it is +quite soft. Then he chases the design on the back, and this design +then shows slightly on the face. But he now grinds the face perfectly +flat with fine emery and water so that the traces of the design are +completely obliterated. Finally, he polishes the face with rouge on a +soft buff. + +“But now observe that wherever the chasing-tool has made a line, the +metal is hardened right through, so that the design is in hard metal +on a soft matrix. But the hardened metal resists the wear of the +polishing buff more than the soft metal does. The result is that the +act of polishing causes the design to appear in faint relief on the +face. Its projection is infinitesimal--less than the +hundred-thousandth of an inch--and totally invisible to the eye. But, +minute as it is, owing to the optical law which I mentioned--which, in +effect, doubles the projection--it is enough to influence the +reflection of light. As a consequence, every chased line appears on +the patch of light as a dark line with a bright border, and so the +whole design is visible. I think that is quite clear.” + +“Perfectly clear,” Miss Bonney and Brodribb agreed. + +“But now,” pursued Thorndyke, “before we come to the casket, there is +a very curious corollary which I must mention. Supposing our artist, +having finished the mirror, should proceed with a scraper to erase the +design from the back; and on the blank, scraped surface to etch a new +design. The process of etching does not harden the metal, so the new +design does not appear on the reflection. But the old design would. +For although it was invisible on the face and had been erased from the +back, it would still exist in the substance of the metal and continue +to influence the reflection. The odd result would be that the design +which would be visible in the patch of light on the wall would be a +different one from that on the back of the mirror. + +“No doubt, you see what I am leading up to. But I will take the +investigation of the casket as it actually occurred. It was obvious, +at once, that the value of the thing was extrinsic. It had no +intrinsic value, either in material or workmanship. What could that +value be? The clear suggestion was that the casket was the vehicle of +some secret message or information. It had been made by Uyenishi, who +had almost certainly had possession of the missing pearls, and who had +been so closely pursued that he never had an opportunity to +communicate with his confederates. It was to be given to a man who was +almost certainly one of those confederates; and, since the pearls had +never been traced, there was a distinct probability that the +(presumed) message referred to some hiding-place in which Uyenishi had +concealed them during his flight, and where they were probably still +hidden. + +“With these considerations in my mind, I examined the casket, and this +was what I found. The thing, itself, was a common white-metal casting, +made presentable by means of lacquer. But the white metal bottom had +been cut out and replaced by a plate of fine bronze--Shakudo. The +inside of this was covered with an etched design, which immediately +aroused my suspicions. Turning it over, I saw that the outside of the +bottom was not only smooth and polished; it was a true mirror. It gave +a perfectly undistorted reflection of my face. At once, I suspected +that the mirror held the secret; that the message, whatever it was, +had been chased on the back, had then been scraped away and an etched +design worked on it to hide the traces of the scraper. + +“As soon as you were gone, I took the casket up to the laboratory and +threw a strong beam of parallel light from a condenser on the bottom, +catching the reflection on a sheet of white paper. The result was just +what I had expected. On the bright oval patch on the paper could be +seen the shadowy, but quite distinct, forms of five words in the +Japanese character. + +“I was in somewhat of a dilemma, for I have no knowledge of Japanese, +whereas the circumstances were such as to make it rather unsafe to +employ a translator. However, as I do just know the Japanese +characters and possess a Japanese dictionary, I determined to make an +attempt to fudge out the words myself. If I failed, I could then look +for a discreet translator. + +“However, it proved to be easier than I had expected, for the words +were detached; they did not form a sentence, and so involved no +questions of grammar. I spelt out the first word and then looked it up +in the dictionary. The translation was ‘pearls.’ This looked hopeful, +and I went on to the next, of which the translation was ‘pump.’ The +third word floored me. It seemed to be ‘jokkis,’ or ‘jokkish,’ but +there was no such word in the dictionary; so I turned to the next +word, hoping that it would explain its predecessor. And it did. The +fourth word was ‘fields,’ and the last word was evidently ‘London.’ So +the entire group read: ‘Pearls, Pump, Jokkis, Fields, London.’ + +“Now, there is no pump, so far as I know, in Jockey’s Fields, but +there is one in Bedford Row close to the corner of the Fields, and +exactly opposite the end of Brownlow Street. And by Mr. Brodribb’s +account, Uyenishi, in his flight, ran down Hand Court and returned up +Brownlow Street, as if he were making for the pump. As the latter is +disused and the handle-hole is high up, well out of the way of +children, it offers quite a good temporary hiding-place, and I had no +doubt that the bag of pearls had been poked into it and was probably +there still. I was tempted to go at once and explore; but I was +anxious that the discovery should be made by Miss Bonney, herself, and +I did not dare to make a preliminary exploration for fear of being +shadowed. If I had found the treasure I should have had to take it and +give it to her; which would have been a flat ending to the adventure. +So I had to dissemble and be the occasion of much smothered +objurgation on the part of my friend, Brodribb. And that is the whole +story of my interview with the oracle.” + + +Our mantelpiece is becoming a veritable museum of trophies of victory, +the gifts of grateful clients. Among them is a squat, shapeless figure +of a Japanese gentleman of the old school, with a silly, grinning +little face--The Magic Casket. But its possession is no longer a +menace. Its sting has been drawn; its magic is exploded; its secret is +exposed, and its glory departed. + + + + + II. + THE CONTENTS OF A MARE’S NEST + +“It is very unsatisfactory,” said Mr. Stalker, of the ‘Griffin’ Life +Assurance Company, at the close of a consultation on a doubtful claim. +“I suppose we shall have to pay up.” + +“I am sure you will,” said Thorndyke. “The death was properly +certified, the deceased is buried, and you have not a single fact with +which to support an application for further inquiry.” + +“No,” Stalker agreed. “But I am not satisfied. I don’t believe that +doctor really knew what she died from. I wish cremation were more +usual.” + +“So, I have no doubt, has many a poisoner,” Thorndyke remarked dryly. + +Stalker laughed, but stuck to his point. “I know you don’t agree,” +said he, “but from our point of view it is much more satisfactory to +know that the extra precautions have been taken. In a cremation case, +you have not to depend on the mere death certificate; you have the +cause of death verified by an independent authority, and it is +difficult to see how any miscarriage can occur.” + +Thorndyke shook his head. “It is a delusion, Stalker. You can’t +provide in advance for unknown contingencies. In practice, your +special precautions degenerate into mere formalities. If the +circumstances of a death appear normal, the independent authority will +certify; if they appear abnormal, you won’t get a certificate at all. +And if suspicion arises only after the cremation has taken place, it +can neither be confirmed nor rebutted.” + +“My point is,” said Stalker, “that the searching examination would +lead to discovery of a crime before cremation.” + +“That is the intention,” Thorndyke admitted. “But no examination, +short of an exhaustive post-mortem, would make it safe to destroy a +body so that no reconsideration of the cause of death would be +possible.” + +Stalker smiled as he picked up his hat. “Well,” he said, “to a cobbler +there is nothing like leather, and I suppose that to a toxicologist +there is nothing like an exhumation,” and with this parting shot he +took his leave. + +We had not seen the last of him, however. In the course of the same +week he looked in to consult us on a fresh matter. + +“A rather queer case has turned up,” said he. “I don’t know that we +are deeply concerned in it, but we should like to have your opinion as +to how we stand. The position is this: Eighteen months ago, a man +named Ingle insured with us for fifteen hundred pounds, and he was +then accepted as a first-class life. He has recently died--apparently +from heart failure, the heart being described as fatty and +dilated--and his wife, Sibyl, who is the sole legatee and executrix, +has claimed payment. But just as we were making arrangements to pay, a +caveat has been entered by a certain Margaret Ingle, who declares that +she is the wife of the deceased and claims the estate as next-of-kin. +She states that the alleged wife, Sibyl, is a widow named Huggard who +contracted a bigamous marriage with the deceased, knowing that he had +a wife living.” + +“An interesting situation,” commented Thorndyke, “but, as you say, it +doesn’t particularly concern you. It is a matter for the Probate +Court.” + +“Yes,” agreed Stalker. “But that is not all. Margaret Ingle not only +charges the other woman with bigamy; she accuses her of having made +away with the deceased.” + +“On what grounds?” + +“Well, the reasons she gives are rather shadowy. She states that +Sibyl’s husband, James Huggard, died under suspicious +circumstances--there seems to have been some suspicion that he had +been poisoned--and she asserts that Ingle was a healthy, sound man and +could not have died from the causes alleged.” + +“There is some reason in that,” said Thorndyke, “if he was really a +first-class life only eighteen months ago. As to the first husband, +Huggard, we should want some particulars: as to whether there was an +inquest, what was the alleged cause of death, and what grounds there +were for suspecting that he had been poisoned. If there really were +any suspicious circumstances, it would be advisable to apply to the +Home Office for an order to exhume the body of Ingle and verify the +cause of death.” + +Stalker smiled somewhat sheepishly. “Unfortunately,” said he, “that is +not possible. Ingle was cremated.” + +“Ah!” said Thorndyke, “that is, as you say, unfortunate. It clearly +increases the suspicion of poisoning, but destroys the means of +verifying that suspicion.” + +“I should tell you,” said Stalker, “that the cremation was in +accordance with the provisions of the will.” + +“That is not very material,” replied Thorndyke. “In fact, it rather +accentuates the suspicious aspect of the case; for the knowledge that +the death of the deceased would be followed by cremation might act as +a further inducement to get rid of him by poison. There were two death +certificates, of course?” + +“Yes. The confirmatory certificate was given by Dr. Halbury, of +Wimpole Street. The medical attendant was a Dr. Barber, of Howland +Street. The deceased lived in Stock-Orchard Crescent, Holloway.” + +“A good distance from Howland Street,” Thorndyke remarked. “Do you +know if Halbury made a post-mortem? I don’t suppose he did.” + +“No, he didn’t,” replied Stalker. + +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “his certificate is worthless. You can’t tell +whether a man has died from heart failure by looking at his dead body. +He must have just accepted the opinion of the medical attendant. Do I +understand that you want me to look into this case?” + +“If you will. It is not really our concern whether or not the man was +poisoned, though I suppose we should have a claim on the estate of the +murderer. But we should like you to investigate the case; though how +the deuce you are going to do it I don’t quite see.” + +“Neither do I,” said Thorndyke. “However, we must get into touch with +the doctors who signed the certificates, and possibly they may be able +to clear the whole matter up.” + +“Of course,” said I, “there is the other body--that of Huggard--which +might be exhumed--unless he was cremated, too.” + +“Yes,” agreed Thorndyke; “and for the purposes of the criminal law, +evidence of poisoning in that case would be sufficient. But it would +hardly help the Griffin Company, which is concerned exclusively with +Ingle deceased. Can you let us have a précis of the facts relating to +this case, Stalker?” + +“I have brought one with me,” was the reply; “a short statement, +giving names, addresses, dates, and other particulars. Here it is”; +and he handed Thorndyke a sheet of paper bearing a tabulated +statement. + +When Stalker had gone Thorndyke glanced rapidly through the précis +and then looked at his watch. “If we make our way to Wimpole Street at +once,” said he, “we ought to catch Halbury. That is obviously the +first thing to do. He signed the ‘C’ certificate, and we shall be able +to judge from what he tells us whether there is any possibility of +foul play. Shall we start now?” + +As I assented, he slipped the précis in his pocket and we set forth. +At the top of Middle Temple Lane we chartered a taxi by which we were +shortly deposited at Dr. Halbury’s door, and a few minutes later were +ushered into his consulting room, and found him shovelling a pile of +letters into the waste-paper basket. + +“How d’ye do?” he said briskly, holding out his hand. “I’m up to my +eyes in arrears, you see. Just back from my holiday. What can I do for +you?” + +“We have called,” said Thorndyke, “about a man named Ingle.” + +“Ingle--Ingle,” repeated Halbury. “Now, let me see----” + +“Stock-Orchard Crescent, Holloway,” Thorndyke explained. + +“Oh, yes. I remember him. Well, how is he?” + +“He’s dead,” replied Thorndyke. + +“Is he really?” exclaimed Halbury. “Now that shows how careful one +should be in one’s judgments. I half suspected that fellow of +malingering. He was supposed to have a dilated heart, but I couldn’t +make out any appreciable dilatation. There was excited, irregular +action. That was all. I had a suspicion that he had been dosing +himself with trinitrine. Reminded me of the cases of cordite chewing +that I used to meet with in South Africa. So he’s dead, after all. +Well, it’s queer. Do you know what the exact cause of death was?” + +“Failure of a dilated heart is the cause stated on the +certificates--the body was cremated; and the ‘C’ Certificate was +signed by you.” + +“By me!” exclaimed the physician. “Nonsense! It’s a mistake. I signed +a certificate for a Friendly Society--Mrs. Ingle brought it here for +me to sign--but I didn’t even know he was dead. Besides, I went away +for my holiday a few days after I saw the man, and only came back +yesterday. What makes you think I signed the death certificate?” + +Thorndyke produced Stalker’s précis and handed it to Halbury, who +read out his own name and address with a puzzled frown. “This is an +extraordinary affair,” said he. “It will have to be looked into.” + +“It will, indeed,” assented Thorndyke; “especially as a suspicion of +poisoning has been raised.” + +“Ha!” exclaimed Halbury. “Then it was trinitrine, you may depend. But +I suspected him unjustly. It was somebody else who was dosing him; +perhaps that sly-looking baggage of a wife of his. Is anyone in +particular suspected?” + +“Yes. The accusation, such as it is, is against the wife.” + +“H’m. Probably a true bill. But she’s done us. Artful devil. You can’t +get much evidence out of an urnful of ashes. Still, somebody has +forged my signature. I suppose that is what the hussy wanted that +certificate for--to get a specimen of my handwriting. I see the ‘B’ +certificate was signed by a man named Meeking. Who’s he? It was Barber +who called me in for an opinion.” + +“I must find out who he is,” replied Thorndyke. “Possibly Dr. Barber +will know. I shall go and call on him now.” + +“Yes,” said Dr. Halbury, shaking hands as we rose to depart, “you +ought to see Barber. He knows the history of the case, at any rate.” + +From Wimpole Street we steered a course for Howland Street, and here +we had the good fortune to arrive just as Dr. Barber’s car drew up at +the door. Thorndyke introduced himself and me, and then introduced the +subject of his visit, but said nothing, at first, about our call on +Dr. Halbury. + +“Ingle,” repeated Dr. Barber. “Oh, yes, I remember him. And you say he +is dead. Well, I’m rather surprised. I didn’t regard his condition as +serious.” + +“Was his heart dilated?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Not appreciably. I found nothing organic; no valvular disease. It was +more like a tobacco heart. But it’s odd that Meeking didn’t mention +the matter to me--he was my locum, you know. I handed the case over to +him when I went on my holiday. And you say he signed the death +certificate?” + +“Yes; and the ‘B’ certificate for cremation, too.” + +“Very odd,” said Dr. Barber. “Just come in and let us have a look at +the day book.” + +We followed him into the consulting room, and there, while he was +turning over the leaves of the day book, I ran my eye along the shelf +over the writing-table from which he had taken it; on which I observed +the usual collection of case books and books of certificates and +notification forms, including the book of death certificates. + +“Yes,” said Dr. Barber, “here we are; ‘Ingle, Mr., Stock-Orchard +Crescent.’ The last visit was on the 4th of September, and Meeking +seems to have given some sort of certificate. Wonder if he used a +printed form.” He took down two of the books and turned over the +counterfoils. + +“Here we are,” he said presently; “‘Ingle, Jonathan, 4th September. +Now recovered and able to resume duties.’ That doesn’t look like +dying, does it? Still, we may as well make sure.” + +He reached down the book of death certificates and began to glance +through the most recent entries. + +“No,” he said, turning over the leaves, “there doesn’t seem to be---- +Hullo! What’s this? Two blank counterfoils; and about the date, too; +between the 2nd and 13th of September. Extraordinary! Meeking is such +a careful, reliable man.” + +He turned back to the day book and read through the fortnight’s +entries. Then he looked up with an anxious frown. + +“I can’t make this out,” he said. “There is no record of any patient +having died in that period.” + +“Where is Dr. Meeking at present?” I asked. + +“Somewhere in the South Atlantic,” replied Barber. “He left here three +weeks ago to take up a post on a Royal Mail Boat. So he couldn’t have +signed the certificate in any case.” + +That was all that Dr. Barber had to tell us, and a few minutes later +we took our departure. + +“This case looks pretty fishy,” I remarked, as we turned down +Tottenham Court Road. + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “There is evidently something radically +wrong. And what strikes me especially is the cleverness of the fraud; +the knowledge and judgment and foresight that are displayed.” + +“She took pretty considerable risks,” I observed. + +“Yes, but only the risks that were unavoidable. Everything that could +be foreseen has been provided for. All the formalities have been +complied with--in appearance. And you must notice, Jervis, that the +scheme did actually succeed. The cremation has taken place. Nothing +but the incalculable accident of the appearance of the real Mrs. Ingle +and her vague and apparently groundless suspicions, prevented the +success from being final. If she had not come on the scene, no +questions would ever have been asked.” + +“No,” I agreed. “The discovery of the plot is a matter of sheer bad +luck. But what do you suppose has really happened?” + +Thorndyke shook his head. + +“It is very difficult to say. The mechanism of the affair is obvious +enough, but the motives and purpose are rather incomprehensible. The +illness was apparently a sham, the symptoms being produced by +nitro-glycerine or some similar heart poison. The doctors were called +in, partly for the sake of appearances and partly to get specimens of +their handwriting. The fact that both the doctors happened to be away +from home and one of them at sea at the time when verbal questions +might have been asked--by the undertaker, for instance--suggests that +this had been ascertained in advance. The death certificate forms were +pretty certainly stolen by the woman when she was left alone in +Barber’s consulting room, and, of course, the cremation certificates +could be obtained on application to the crematorium authorities. That +is all plain sailing. The mystery is, what is it all about? Barber or +Meeking would almost certainly have given a death certificate, +although the death was unexpected, and I don’t suppose Halbury would +have refused to confirm it. They would have assumed that their +diagnosis had been at fault.” + +“Do you think it could have been suicide, or an inadvertent overdose +of trinitrine?” + +“Hardly. If it was suicide, it was deliberate, for the purpose of +getting the insurance money for the woman, unless there was some +further motive behind. And the cremation, with all its fuss and +formalities, is against suicide; while the careful preparation seems +to exclude inadvertent poisoning. Then, what was the motive for the +sham illness except as a preparation for an abnormal death?” + +“That is true,” said I. “But if you reject suicide, isn’t it rather +remarkable that the victim should have provided for his own +cremation?” + +“We don’t know that he did,” replied Thorndyke. “There is a suggestion +of a capable forger in this business. It is quite possible that the +will itself is a forgery.” + +“So it is!” I exclaimed. “I hadn’t thought of that.” + +“You see,” continued Thorndyke, “the appearances suggest that +cremation was a necessary part of the programme; otherwise these +extraordinary risks would not have been taken. The woman was sole +executrix and could have ignored the cremation clause. But if the +cremation was necessary, why was it necessary? The suggestion is that +there was something suspicious in the appearance of the body; +something that the doctors would certainly have observed or that would +have been discovered if an exhumation had taken place.” + +“You mean some injury or visible signs of poisoning?” + +“I mean something discoverable by examination even after burial.” + +“But what about the undertaker? Wouldn’t he have noticed anything +palpably abnormal?” + +“An excellent suggestion, Jervis. We must see the undertaker. We have +his address: Kentish Town Road--a long way from deceased’s house, by +the way. We had better get on a bus and go there now.” + +A yellow omnibus was approaching as he spoke. We hailed it and sprang +on, continuing our discussion as we were borne northward. + +Mr. Burrell, the undertaker, was a pensive-looking, profoundly civil +man who was evidently in a small way, for he combined with his +funereal functions general carpentry and cabinet making. He was +perfectly willing to give any required information, but he seemed to +have very little to give. + +“I never really saw the deceased gentleman,” he said in reply to +Thorndyke’s cautious inquiries. “When I took the measurements, the +corpse was covered with a sheet; and as Mrs. Ingle was in the room, I +made the business as short as possible.” + +“You didn’t put the body in the coffin, then?” + +“No. I left the coffin at the house, but Mrs. Ingle said that she and +the deceased gentleman’s brother would lay the body in it.” + +“But didn’t you see the corpse when you screwed the coffin-lid down?” + +“I didn’t screw it down. When I got there it was screwed down already. +Mrs. Ingle said they had to close up the coffin, and I dare say it was +necessary. The weather was rather warm; and I noticed a strong smell +of formalin.” + +“Well,” I said, as we walked back down the Kentish Town Road, “we +haven’t got much more forward.” + +“I wouldn’t say that,” replied Thorndyke. “We have a further instance +of the extraordinary adroitness with which this scheme was carried +out; and we have confirmation of our suspicion that there was +something unusual in the appearance of the body. It is evident that +this woman did not dare to let even the undertaker see it. But one can +hardly help admiring the combination of daring and caution, the +boldness with which these risks were taken, and the care and judgment +with which they were provided against. And again I point out that the +risks were justified by the result. The secret of that man’s death +appears to have been made secure for all time.” + +It certainly looked as if the mystery with which we were concerned +were beyond the reach of investigation. Of course, the woman could be +prosecuted for having forged the death certificates, to say nothing of +the charge of bigamy. But that was no concern of ours or Stalker’s. +Jonathan Ingle was dead, and no one could say how he died. + +On our arrival at our chambers we found a telegram that had just +arrived, announcing that Stalker would call on us in the evening; and +as this seemed to suggest that he had some fresh information we looked +forward to his visit with considerable interest. Punctually at six +o’clock he made his appearance and at once opened the subject. + +“There are some new developments in this Ingle case,” said he. “In the +first place, the woman, Huggard, has bolted. I went to the house to +make a few inquiries and found the police in possession. They had come +to arrest her on the bigamy charge, but she had got wind of their +intentions and cleared out. They made a search of the premises, but I +don’t think they found anything of interest except a number of rifle +cartridges; and I don’t know that they are of much interest either, +for she could hardly have shot him with a rifle.” + +“What kind of cartridges were they?” Thorndyke asked. + +Stalker put his hand in his pocket. + +“The inspector let me have one to show you,” said he; and he laid on +the table a military cartridge of the pattern of some twenty years +ago. Thorndyke picked it up, and taking from a drawer a pair of pliers +drew the bullet out of the case and inserted into the latter a pair of +dissecting forceps. When he withdrew the forceps, their points grasped +one or two short strings of what looked like cat-gut. + +“Cordite!” said I. “So Halbury was probably right, and this is how she +got her supply.” Then, as Stalker looked at me inquiringly, I gave him +a short account of the results of our investigations. + +“Ha!” he exclaimed, “the plot thickens. This juggling with the death +certificates seems to connect itself with another kind of juggling +that I came to tell you about. You know that Ingle was Secretary and +Treasurer to a company that bought and sold land for building estates. +Well, I called at their office after I left you and had a little talk +with the chairman. From him I learned that Ingle had practically +complete control of the financial affairs of the company, that he +received and paid all moneys and kept the books. Of late, however, +some of the directors have had a suspicion that all was not well with +the finances, and at last it was decided to have the affairs of the +company thoroughly overhauled by a firm of chartered accountants. This +decision was communicated to Ingle, and a couple of days later a +letter arrived from his wife saying that he had had a severe heart +attack and asking that the audit of the books might be postponed until +he recovered and was able to attend at the office.” + +“And was it postponed?” I asked. + +“No,” replied Stalker. “The accountants were asked to get to work at +once, which they did; with the result that they discovered a number of +discrepancies in the books and a sum of about three thousand pounds +unaccounted for. It isn’t quite obvious how the frauds were carried +out, but it is suspected that some of the returned cheques are fakes +with forged endorsements.” + +“Did the company communicate with Ingle on the subject?” asked +Thorndyke. + +“No. They had a further letter from Mrs. Ingle--that is, +Huggard--saying that Ingle’s condition was very serious; so they +decided to wait until he had recovered. Then, of course, came the +announcement of his death, on which the matter was postponed pending +the probate of the will. I suppose a claim will be made on the estate, +but as the executrix has absconded, the affair has become rather +complicated.” + +“You were saying,” said Thorndyke, “that the fraudulent death +certificates seem to be connected with these frauds on the company. +What kind of connexion do you assume?” + +“I assume--or, at least, suggest,” replied Stalker, “that this was a +case of suicide. The man, Ingle, saw that his frauds were discovered, +or were going to be, and that he was in for a long term of penal +servitude, so he just made away with himself. And I think that if the +murder charge could be dropped, Mrs. Huggard might be induced to come +forward and give evidence as to the suicide.” + +Thorndyke shook his head. + +“The murder charge couldn’t be dropped,” said he. “If it was suicide, +Huggard was certainly an accessory; and in law, an accessory to +suicide is an accessory to murder. But, in fact, no official charge of +murder has been made, and at present there are no means of sustaining +such a charge. The identity of the ashes might be assumed to be that +stated in the cremation order, but the difficulty is the cause of +death. Ingle was admittedly ill. He was attended for heart disease by +three doctors. There is no evidence that he did not die from that +illness.” + +“But the illness was due to cordite poisoning,” said I. + +“That is what we believe. But no one could swear to it. And we +certainly could not swear that he died from cordite poisoning.” + +“Then,” said Stalker, “apparently there is no means of finding out +whether his death was due to natural causes, suicide, or murder?” + +“There is only one chance,” replied Thorndyke. “It is just barely +possible that the cause of death might be ascertainable by an +examination of the ashes.” + +“That doesn’t seem very hopeful,” said I. “Cordite poisoning would +certainly leave no trace.” + +“We mustn’t assume that he died from cordite poisoning,” said +Thorndyke. “Probably he did not. That may have masked the action of a +less obvious poison, or death might have been produced by some new +agent.” + +“But,” I objected, “how many poisons are there that could be detected +in the ashes? No organic poison would leave any traces, nor would +metallic poisons such as mercury, antimony, or arsenic.” + +“No,” Thorndyke agreed. “But there are other metallic poisons which +could be easily recovered from the ashes; lead, tin, gold, and silver, +for instance. But it is useless to discuss speculative probabilities. +The only chance that we have of obtaining any new facts is by an +examination of the ashes. It seems infinitely improbable that we shall +learn anything from it, but there is the bare possibility and we ought +not to leave it untried.” + +Neither Stalker nor I made any further remark, but I could see that +the same thought was in both our minds. It was not often that +Thorndyke was “gravelled”; but apparently the resourceful Mrs. Huggard +had set him a problem that was beyond even his powers. When an +investigator of crime is reduced to the necessity of examining a +potful of ashes in the wild hope of ascertaining from them how the +deceased met his death, one may assume that he is at the very end of +his tether. It is a forlorn hope indeed. + +Nevertheless, Thorndyke seemed to view the matter quite cheerfully, +his only anxiety being lest the Home Secretary should refuse to make +the order authorizing the examination. And this anxiety was dispelled +a day or two later by the arrival of a letter giving the necessary +authority, and informing him that a Dr. Hemming--known to us both as +an expert pathologist--had been deputed to be present at the +examination and to confer with him as to the necessity for a chemical +analysis. + +On the appointed day Dr. Hemming called at our chambers and we set +forth together for Liverpool Street; and as we drove thither it became +evident to me that his view of our mission was very similar to my own. +For, though he talked freely enough, and on professional topics, he +maintained a most discreet silence on the subject of the forthcoming +inspection; indeed, the first reference to the subject was made by +Thorndyke himself just as the train was approaching Corfield, where +the crematorium was situated. + +“I presume,” said he, “you have made all necessary arrangements, +Hemming?” + +“Yes,” was the reply. “The superintendent will meet us and will +conduct us to the catacombs, and there, in our presence, will take the +casket from its niche in the columbarium, and have it conveyed to the +office, where the examination will be made. I thought it best to use +these formalities, though, as the casket is sealed and bears the name +of the deceased, there is not much point in them.” + +“No,” said Thorndyke, “but I think you were right. It would be easy to +challenge the identity of a mass of ashes if all precautions were not +taken, seeing that the ashes themselves are unidentifiable.” + +“That was what I felt,” said Hemming; and then, as the train slowed +down, he added: “This is our station, and that gentleman on the +platform, I suspect, is the superintendent.” + +The surmise turned out to be correct; but the cemetery official was +not the only one present bearing that title; for as we were mutually +introducing ourselves, a familiar tall figure approached up the +platform from the rear of the train--our old friend Superintendent +Miller of the Criminal Investigation Department. + +“I don’t wish to intrude,” said he, as he joined the group and was +presented by Thorndyke to the strangers, “but we were notified by the +Home Office that an investigation was to be made, so I thought I would +be on the spot to pick up any crumbs of information that you may drop. +Of course, I am not asking to be present at the examination.” + +“You may as well be present as an additional witness to the removal of +the urn,” said Thorndyke; and Miller accordingly joined the party, +which now made its way from the station to the cemetery. + +The catacombs were in a long, low arcaded building at the end of the +pleasantly-wooded grounds, and on our way thither we passed the +crematorium, a smallish, church-like edifice with a perforated +chimney-shaft partly concealed by the low spire. Entering the +catacombs, we were conducted to the “columbarium,” the walls of which +were occupied by a multitude of niches or pigeon-holes, each niche +accommodating a terra-cotta urn or casket. The superintendent +proceeded to near the end of the gallery, where he halted, and opening +the register, which he had brought with him, read out a number and the +name “Jonathan Ingle,” and then led us to a niche bearing that number +and name, in which reposed a square casket, on which was inscribed the +name and date of death. When we had verified these particulars, the +casket was tenderly lifted from its place by two attendants, who +carried it to a well-lighted room at the end of the building, where a +large table by a window had been covered with white paper. Having +placed the casket on the table, the attendants retired, and the +superintendent then broke the seals and removed the cover. + +For a while we all stood looking in at the contents of the casket +without speaking; and I found myself contrasting them with what would +have been revealed by the lifting of a coffin-lid. Truly corruption +had put on incorruption. The mass of snow-white, coral-like fragments, +delicate, fragile, and lace-like in texture, so far from being +repulsive in aspect, were almost attractive. I ran my eye, with an +anatomist’s curiosity, over these dazzling remnants of what had lately +been a man, half-unconsciously seeking to identify and give a name to +particular fragments, and a little surprised at the difficulty of +determining that this or that irregularly-shaped white object was a +part of any one of the bones with which I had thought myself so +familiar. + +Presently Hemming looked up at Thorndyke and asked: “Do you observe +anything abnormal in the appearance of these ashes? I don’t.” + +“Perhaps,” replied Thorndyke, “we had better turn them out on to the +table, so that we can see the whole of them.” + +This was done very gently, and then Thorndyke proceeded to spread out +the heap, touching the fragments with the utmost delicacy--for they +were extremely fragile and brittle--until the whole collection was +visible. + +“Well,” said Hemming, when we had once more looked them over +critically, “what do you say? I can see no trace of any foreign +substance. Can you?” + +“No,” replied Thorndyke. “And there are some other things that I can’t +see. For instance, the medical referee reported that the proposer had +a good set of sound teeth. Where are they? I have not seen a single +fragment of a tooth. Yet teeth are far more resistant to fire than +bones, especially the enamel caps.” + +Hemming ran a searching glance over the mass of fragments and looked +up with a perplexed frown. + +“I certainly can’t see any sign of teeth,” he admitted; “and it _is_ +rather curious, as you say. Does the fact suggest any particular +significance to you?” + +By way of reply, Thorndyke delicately picked up a flat fragment and +silently held it out towards us. I looked at it and said nothing; for +a very strange suspicion was beginning to creep into my mind. + +“A piece of a rib,” said Hemming. “Very odd that it should have broken +across so cleanly. It might have been cut with a saw.” + +Thorndyke laid it down and picked up another, larger fragment, which I +had already noticed. + +“Here is another example,” said he, handing it to our colleague. + +“Yes,” agreed Hemming. “It is really rather extraordinary. It looks +exactly as if it had been sawn across.” + +“It does,” agreed Thorndyke. “What bone should you say it is?” + +“That is what I was just asking myself,” replied Hemming, looking at +the fragment with a sort of half-vexed smile. “It seems ridiculous +that a competent anatomist should be in any doubt with as large a +portion as this, but really I can’t confidently give it a name. The +shape seems to me to suggest a tibia, but of course it is much too +small. Is it the upper end of the ulna?” + +“I should say no,” answered Thorndyke. Then he picked out another of +the larger fragments, and handing it to Hemming, asked him to name it. + +Our friend began to look somewhat worried. + +“It is an extraordinary thing, you know,” said he, “but I can’t tell +you what bone it is part of. It is clearly the shaft of a long bone, +but I’m hanged if I can say which. It is too big for a metatarsal and +too small for any of the main limb bones. It reminds one of a +diminutive thigh bone.” + +“It does,” agreed Thorndyke; “very strongly.” While Hemming had been +speaking he had picked out four more large fragments, and these he now +laid in a row with the one that had seemed to resemble a tibia in +shape. Placed thus together, the five fragments bore an obvious +resemblance. + +“Now,” said he, “look at these. There are five of them. They are parts +of limb bones, and the bones of which they are parts were evidently +exactly alike, excepting that three were apparently from the left side +and two from the right. Now, you know, Hemming, a man has only four +limbs, and of those only two contain similar bones. Then two of them +show distinct traces of what looks like a saw-cut.” + +Hemming gazed at the row of fragments with a frown of deep cogitation. + +“It is very mysterious,” he said. “And looking at them in a row they +strike me as curiously like tibiæ--in shape; not in size.” + +“The size,” said Thorndyke, “is about that of a sheep’s tibia.” + +“A sheep’s!” exclaimed Hemming, staring in amazement, first at the +calcined bones and then at my colleague. + +“Yes; the upper half, sawn across in the middle of the shank.” + +Hemming was thunderstruck. + +“It is an astounding affair!” he exclaimed. “You mean to suggest----” + +“I suggest,” said Thorndyke, “that there is not a sign of a human bone +in the whole collection. But there are very evident traces of at least +five legs of mutton.” + +For a few moments there was a profound silence, broken only by a +murmur of astonishment from the cemetery official and a low chuckle +from Superintendent Miller, who had been listening with absorbed +interest. At length Hemming spoke. + +“Then, apparently, there was no corpse in the coffin at all?” + +“No,” answered Thorndyke. “The weight was made up, and the ashes +furnished, by joints of butcher’s meat. I dare say, if we go over the +ashes carefully, we shall be able to judge what they were. But it is +hardly necessary. The presence of five legs of mutton and the absence +of a single recognizable fragment of a human skeleton, together with +the forged certificates, gives us a pretty conclusive case. The rest, +I think we can leave to Superintendent Miller.” + + +“I take it, Thorndyke,” said I, as the train moved out of the station, +“that you came here expecting to find what you did find?” + +“Yes,” he replied. “It seemed to me the only possibility, having +regard to all the known facts.” + +“When did it first occur to you?” + +“It occurred to me as a possibility as soon as we discovered that the +cremation certificates had been forged; but it was the undertaker’s +statement that seemed to clench the matter.” + +“But he distinctly stated that he measured the body.” + +“True. But there was nothing to show that it was a dead body. What was +perfectly clear was that there was something that must on no account +be seen; and when Stalker told us of the embezzlement we had a body of +evidence that could point to only one conclusion. Just consider that +evidence. + +“Here we had a death, preceded by an obviously sham illness and +followed by cremation with forged certificates. Now, what was it that +had happened? There were four possible hypotheses. Normal death, +suicide, murder, and fictitious death. Which of these hypotheses +fitted the facts? + +“Normal death was apparently excluded by the forged certificates. + +“The theory of suicide did not account for the facts. It did not agree +with the careful, elaborate preparation. And why the forged +certificates? If Ingle had really died, Meeking would have certified +the death. And why the cremation? There was no purpose in taking those +enormous risks. + +“The theory of murder was unthinkable. These certificates were almost +certainly forged by Ingle himself, who we know was a practised forger. +But the idea of the victim arranging for his own cremation is an +absurdity. + +“There remained only the theory of fictitious death; and that theory +fitted all the facts perfectly. First, as to the motive. Ingle had +committed a felony. He had to disappear. But what kind of +disappearance could be so effectual as death and cremation? Both the +prosecutors and the police would forthwith write him off and forget +him. Then there was the bigamy--a criminal offence in itself. But +death would not only wipe that off; after ‘death’ he could marry +Huggard regularly under another name, and he would have shaken off his +deserted wife for ever. And he stood to gain fifteen hundred pounds +from the Insurance Company. Then see how this theory explained the +other facts. A fictitious death made necessary a fictitious illness. +It necessitated the forged certificates, since there was no corpse. It +made cremation highly desirable; for suspicion might easily have +arisen, and then the exhumation of a coffin containing a dummy would +have exploded the fraud. But successful cremation would cover up the +fraud for ever. It explained the concealment of the corpse from the +undertaker, and it even explained the smell of formalin which he +noticed.” + +“How did it?” I asked. + +“Consider, Jervis,” he replied. “The dummy in this coffin had to be a +dummy of flesh and bone which would yield the correct kind of ash. +Joints of butcher’s meat would fulfil the conditions. But the quantity +required would be from a hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds. Now +Ingle could not go to the butcher and order a whole sheep to be sent +the day before the funeral. The joints would have to be bought +gradually and stored. But the storage of meat in warm weather calls +for some kind of preservative; and formalin is highly effective, as it +leaves no trace after burning. + +“So you see that the theory of fictitious death agreed with all the +known circumstances, whereas the alternative theories presented +inexplicable discrepancies and contradictions. Logically, it was the +only possible theory, and as you have seen, experiment proved it to be +the true one.” + +As Thorndyke concluded, Dr. Hemming took his pipe from his mouth and +laughed softly. + +“When I came down to-day,” said he, “I had all the facts which you had +communicated to the Home Office, and I was absolutely convinced that +we were coming to examine a mare’s nest. And yet, now I have heard +your exposition, the whole thing looks perfectly obvious.” + +“That is usually the case with Thorndyke’s conclusions,” said I. “They +are perfectly obvious--when you have heard the explanation.” + +Within a week of our expedition, Ingle was in the hands of the police. +The apparent success of the cremation adventure had misled him to a +sense of such complete security that he had neglected to cover his +tracks, and he had accordingly fallen an easy prey to our friend +Superintendent Miller. The police were highly gratified, and so were +the directors of the Griffin Life Assurance Company. + + + + + III. + THE STALKING HORSE + +As Thorndyke and I descended the stairs of the footbridge at +Densford Junction we became aware that something unusual had happened. +The platform was nearly deserted save at one point, where a small but +dense crowd had collected around the open door of a first-class +compartment of the down train; heads were thrust out of the windows of +the other coaches, and at intervals doors opened and inquisitive +passengers ran along to join the crowd, from which an excited porter +detached himself just as we reached the platform. + +“You’d better go for Dr. Pooke first,” the station-master called after +him. + +On this, Thorndyke stepped forward. + +“My friend and I,” said he, “are medical men. Can we be of any service +until the local doctor arrives?” + +“I’m very much afraid not, sir,” was the reply, “but you’ll see.” He +cleared a way for us and we approached the open door. + +At the first glance there appeared to be nothing to account for the +awe-stricken expression with which the bystanders peered into the +carriage and gazed at its solitary occupant. For the motionless figure +that sat huddled in the corner seat, chin on breast, might have been a +sleeping man. But it was not. The waxen pallor of the face and the +strange, image-like immobility forbade the hope of any awakening. + +“It looks almost as if he had passed away in his sleep,” said the +station-master when we had concluded our brief examination and +ascertained certainly that the man was dead. “Do you think it was a +heart attack, sir?” + +Thorndyke shook his head and touched with his finger a depressed spot +on the dead man’s waistcoat. When he withdrew his finger it was +smeared with blood. + +“Good God!” the official gasped, in a horrified whisper. “The man has +been murdered!” He stared incredulously at the corpse for a few +moments and then turned and sprang out of the compartment, shutting +the door behind him, and we heard him giving orders for the coach to +be separated and shunted into the siding. + +“This is a gruesome affair, Jervis,” my colleague said as he sat down +on the seat opposite the dead man and cast a searching glance round +the compartment. “I wonder who this poor fellow was and what was the +object of the murder? It looks almost too determined for a common +robbery; and, in fact, the body does not appear to have been robbed.” +Here he stooped suddenly to pick up one or two minute fragments of +glass which seemed to have been trodden into the carpet, and which he +examined closely in the palm of his hand. I leaned over and looked at +the fragments, and we agreed that they were portions of the bulb of an +electric torch or flash-lamp. + +“The significance of these--if they have any,” said Thorndyke, “we can +consider later. But if they are recent, it would appear that the metal +part of the bulb has been picked up and taken away. That might be an +important fact. But, on the other hand, the fragments may have been +here some time and have no connexion with the tragedy; though you +notice that they were lying opposite the body and opposite the seat +which the murderer must have occupied when the crime was committed.” + +As he was speaking, the uncoupled coach began slowly to move towards +the siding, and we both stooped to make a further search for the +remainder of the lamp-bulb. And then, almost at the same moment, we +perceived two objects lying under the opposite seat--the seat occupied +by the dead man. One was a small pocket-handkerchief, the other a +sheet of notepaper. + +“This,” said I, as I picked up the former, “accounts for the strong +smell of scent in the compartment.” + +“Possibly,” Thorndyke agreed, “though you will notice that the odour +does not come principally from the handkerchief, but from the back +cushion of the corner seat. But here is something more distinctive--a +most incriminating piece of evidence, unless it can be answered by an +undeniable alibi.” He held out to me a sheet of letter paper, both +pages of which were covered with writing in bright blue ink, done with +a Hectograph or some similar duplicator. It was evidently a circular +letter, for it bore the printed heading, “Women’s Emancipation League, +16 Barnabas Square, S.W.,” and the contents appeared to refer to a +“militant demonstration” planned for the near future. + +“It is dated the day before yesterday,” commented Thorndyke, “so that +it might have been lying here for twenty-four hours, though that is +obviously improbable; and as this is neither the first sheet nor the +last, there are--or have been--at least two more sheets. The police +will have something to start on, at any rate.” + +He laid the letter on the seat and explored both of the hat-racks, +taking down the dead man’s hat, gloves, and umbrella, and noting in +the hat the initials “F.B.” He had just replaced them when voices +became audible outside, and the station-master climbed up on the +foot-board and opened the door to admit two men, one of whom I assumed +to be a doctor, the other being a police inspector. + +“The station-master tells me that this is a case of homicide,” said +the former, addressing us jointly. + +“That is what the appearances suggest,” replied Thorndyke. “There is a +bullet wound, inflicted apparently at quite short range--the waistcoat +is perceptibly singed--and we have found no weapon in the +compartment.” + +The doctor stepped past us and proceeded to make a rapid examination +of the body. + +“Yes,” he said, “I agree with you. The position of the wound and the +posture of the body both suggest that death was practically +instantaneous. If it had been suicide, the pistol would have been in +the hand or on the floor. There is no clue to the identity of the +murderer, I suppose?” + +“We found these on the floor under the dead man’s seat,” replied +Thorndyke, indicating the letter and the handkerchief; “and there is +some glass trodden into the carpet--apparently the remains of an +electric flash-lamp.” + +The inspector pounced on the handkerchief and the letter, and having +scrutinized the former vainly in search of name or initials, turned to +the letter. + +“Why, this is a suffragist’s letter!” he exclaimed. “But it can’t have +anything to do with this affair. They are mischievous beggars, but +they don’t do this sort of thing.” Nevertheless, he carefully bestowed +both articles in a massive wallet, and approaching the corpse, +remarked: “We may as well see who he is while we are waiting for the +stretcher.” + +With a matter-of-fact air, which seemed somewhat to shock the +station-master, he unbuttoned the coat of the passive figure in the +corner and thrust his hand into the breast pocket, drawing out a +letter-case which he opened, and from which he extracted a visiting +card. As he glanced at it, his face suddenly took on an expression of +amazement. + +“God!” he exclaimed in a startled tone. “Who do you think he is, +doctor? He is Mr. Francis Burnham!” + +The doctor looked at him with an interrogative frown. +“Burnham--Burnham,” he repeated. “Let me see, now----” + +“Don’t you know? The anti-suffrage man. Surely----” + +“Yes, yes,” interrupted the doctor. “Of course I remember him. The +arch-enemy of the suffrage movement and--yes, of course.” The doctor’s +brisk speech changed abruptly into a hesitating mumble. Like the +inspector, he had suddenly “seen a great light”; and again, like the +officer, his perception had begotten a sudden reticence. + +Thorndyke glanced at his watch. “Our train is a minute overdue,” said +he. “We ought to get back to the platform.” Taking a card from his +case, he handed it to the inspector, who looked at it and slightly +raised his eyebrows. + +“I don’t think my evidence will be of much value,” said he; “but, of +course, I am at your service if you want it.” With this and a bow to +the doctor and the station-master, he climbed down to the ground; and +when I had given the inspector my card, I followed, and we made our +way to the platform. + + +The case was not long in developing. That very evening, as Thorndyke +and I were smoking our after-dinner pipes by the fire, a hurried step +was heard on the stair and was followed by a peremptory knock on our +door. The visitor was a man of about thirty, with a clean-shaved face, +an intense and rather neurotic expression, and a restless, excited +manner. He introduced himself by the name of Cadmus Bawley, and +thereby, in effect, indicated the purpose of his visit. + +“You know me by name, I expect,” he said, speaking rapidly and with a +sharp, emphatic manner, “and probably you can guess what I have come +about. You have seen the evening paper, of course?” + +“I have not,” replied Thorndyke. + +“Well,” said Mr. Bawley, “you know about the murder of the man +Burnham, because I see that you were present at the discovery; and you +know that part of a circular letter from our League was found in the +compartment. Perhaps you will not be surprised to learn that Miss +Isabel Dalby has been arrested and charged with the murder.” + +“Indeed!” said Thorndyke. + +“Yes. It’s an infamous affair! A national disgrace!” exclaimed Bawley, +banging the table with his fist. “A manifest plot of the enemies of +social reform to get rid of a high-minded, noble-hearted lady whose +championship of this great Cause they are unable to combat by fair +means in the open. And it is a wild absurdity, too. As to the fellow, +Burnham, I can’t pretend to feel any regret----” + +“May I suggest”--Thorndyke interrupted somewhat stiffly--“that the +expression of personal sentiments is neither helpful nor discreet? My +methods of defence--if that is what you have come about--are based on +demonstration rather than rhetoric. Could you give us the plain +facts?” + +Mr. Cadmus Bawley looked unmistakably sulky, but after a short pause, +he began his recital in a somewhat lower key. + +“The bald facts,” he said, “are these: This afternoon, at half-past +two, Miss Dalby took the train from King’s Cross to Holmwood. This is +the train that stops at Densford Junction and is the one in which +Burnham travelled. She took a first-class ticket and occupied a +compartment for ladies only, of which she was the only occupant. She +got out at Holmwood and went straight to the house of our +Vice-President, Miss Carleigh--who has been confined to her room for +some days--and stayed there about an hour. She came back by the +four-fifteen train, and I met her at the station--King’s Cross--at a +quarter to five. We had tea at a restaurant opposite the station, and +over our tea we discussed the plans for the next demonstration, and +arranged the rendezvous and the most convenient routes for retreat and +dispersal when the police should arrive. This involved the making of +sketch plans, and these Miss Dalby drew on a sheet of paper that she +took from her pocket, and which happened to be part of the circular +letter referring to the raid. After tea we walked together down Gray’s +Inn Road and parted at Theobald’s Road, I going on to the +head-quarters and she to her rooms in Queen Square. On her arrival +home, she found two detectives waiting outside her house, and +then--and then, in short, she was arrested, like a common criminal, +and taken to the police station, where she was searched and the +remainder of the circular letter found in her pocket. Then she was +formally charged with the murder of the man Burnham, and she was +graciously permitted to send a telegram to head-quarters. It arrived +just after I got there, and, of course, I at once went to the police +station. The police refused to accept bail, but they allowed me to see +her to make arrangements for the defence.” + +“Does Miss Dalby offer any suggestion,” asked Thorndyke, “as to how a +sheet of her letter came to be in the compartment with the murdered +man?” + +“Oh, yes!” replied Mr. Bawley. “I had forgotten that. It wasn’t her +letter at all. She destroyed her copy of the letter as soon as she had +read it.” + +“Then,” inquired Thorndyke, “how came the letter to be in her pocket?” + +“Ah,” replied Bawley, “that is the mystery. She thinks someone must +have slipped it into her pocket to throw suspicion on her.” + +“Did she seem surprised to find it in her pocket when you were having +tea together?” + +“No. She had forgotten having destroyed her copy. She only remembered +it when I told her that the sheet had been found in Burnham’s +carriage.” + +“Can she produce the fragments of the destroyed letter?” + +“No, she can’t. Unfortunately she burned it.” + +“Do these circular letters bear any distinguishing mark? Are they +addressed to members by name?” + +“Only on the envelopes. The letters are all alike. They are run off a +duplicator. Of course, if you don’t believe the story----” + +“I am not judging the case,” interrupted Thorndyke; “I am simply +collecting the facts. What do you want me to do?” + +“If you feel that you could undertake the defence, I should like you +to do so. We shall employ the solicitors to the League, Bird & +Marshall, but I know they will be willing and glad to act with you.” + +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “I will investigate the case and consult +with your solicitors. By the way, do the police know about the sheet +of the letter on which the plans were drawn?” + +“No. I thought it best to say nothing about that, and I have told Miss +Dalby not to mention it.” + +“That is just as well,” said Thorndyke. “Have you the sheet with the +plan on it?” + +“I haven’t it about me,” was the reply. “It is in my desk at my +chambers.” + +“You had better let me have it to look at,” said Thorndyke. + +“You can have it if you want it, of course,” said Bawley, “but it +won’t help you. The letters are all alike, as I have told you.” + +“I should like to see it, nevertheless,” said Thorndyke; “and perhaps +you could give me some account of Mr. Burnham. What do you know about +him?” + +Mr. Bawley shut his lips tightly, and his face took on an expression +of vindictiveness verging on malignity. + +“All I know about Burnham,” he said, “is that he was a fool and a +ruffian. He was not only an enemy of the great reform that our League +stands for; he was a treacherous enemy--violent, crafty, and +indefatigably active. I can only regard his death as a blessing to +mankind.” + +“May I ask,” said Thorndyke, “if any members of your League have ever +publicly threatened to take personal measures against him?” + +“Yes,” snapped Bawley. “Several of us--including myself--have +threatened to give him the hiding that he deserved. But a hiding is a +different thing from murder, you know.” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed somewhat dryly; then he asked: “Do you know +anything about Mr. Burnham’s occupation and habits?” + +“He was a sort of manager of the London and Suburban Bank. His job was +to supervise the suburban branches, and his habit was to visit them in +rotation. He was probably going to the branch at Holmwood when he was +killed. That is all I can tell you about him.” + +“Thank you,” said Thorndyke; and as our visitor rose to depart he +continued: “Then I will look into the case and arrange with your +solicitors to have Miss Dalby properly represented at the inquest; and +I shall be glad to have that sheet of the letter as soon as you can +send or leave it.” + +“Very well,” said Bawley, “though, as I have told you, it won’t be of +any use to you. It is only a duplicated circular.” + +“Possibly,” Thorndyke assented. “But the other sheets will be produced +in Court, so I may as well have an opportunity of examining it +beforehand.” + +For some minutes after our client had gone Thorndyke remained silent +and reflective, copying his rough notes into his pocket-book and +apparently amplifying and arranging them. Presently he looked up at me +with an unspoken question in his eyes. + +“It is a queer case,” said I. “The circumstantial evidence seems to be +strongly against Miss Dalby, but it is manifestly improbable that she +murdered the man.” + +“It seems so,” he agreed. “But the case will be decided on the +evidence; and the evidence will be considered by a judge, not by a +Home Secretary. You notice the importance of Burnham’s destination?” + +“Yes. He was evidently dead when the train arrived at Holmwood. But it +isn’t clear how long he had been dead.” + +“The evidence,” said Thorndyke, “points strongly to the tunnel between +Cawden and Holmwood as the place where the murder was committed. You +will remember that the up-express passed our train in the tunnel. If +the adjoining compartments were empty, the sound of a pistol shot +would be completely drowned by the noise of the express thundering +past. Then you will remember the fragments of the electric bulb that +we picked up, and that there was no light on in the carriage. That is +rather significant. It not only suggests that the crime was committed +in the dark, but there is a distinct suggestion of +preparation--arrangement and premeditation. It suggests that the +murderer knew what the circumstances would be and provided for them.” + +“Yes; and that is rather a point against our client. But I don’t quite +see what you expect to get out of that sheet of the letter. It is the +presence of the letter, rather than its matter, that constitutes the +evidence against Miss Dalby.” + +“I don’t expect to learn anything from it,” replied Thorndyke; “but +the letter will be the prosecution’s trump card, and it is always well +to know in advance exactly what cards your opponent holds. It is a +mere matter of routine to examine everything, relevant or irrelevant.” + + +The inquest was to be held at Densford on the third day after the +discovery of the body. But in the interval certain new facts had come +to light. One was that the deceased was conveying to the Holmwood +branch of the bank a sum of three thousand pounds, of which one +thousand was in gold and the remainder in Bank of England notes, the +whole being contained in a leather handbag. This bag had been found, +empty, in a ditch by the side of the road which led from the station +to the house of Miss Carleigh, the Vice-President of the Women’s +Emancipation League. It was further stated that the ticket-collector +at Holmwood had noticed that Miss Dalby--whom he knew by sight--was +carrying a bag of the kind described when she passed the barrier, and +that when she returned, about an hour later, she had no bag with her. +On the other hand, Miss Carleigh had stated that the bag which Miss +Dalby brought to her house was her (Miss Carleigh’s) property, and she +had produced it for the inspection of the police. So that already +there was some conflict of evidence, with a balance distinctly against +Miss Dalby. + +“There is no denying,” said Thorndyke, as we discussed the case at the +breakfast table on the morning of the inquest, “that the +circumstantial evidence is formidably complete and consistent, while +the rebutting evidence is of the feeblest. Miss Dalby’s statement that +the letter had been put into her pocket by some unknown person will +hardly be taken seriously, and even Miss Carleigh’s statement with +reference to the bag will not carry much weight unless she can furnish +corroboration.” + +“Nevertheless,” said I, “the general probabilities are entirely in +favour of the accused. It is grossly improbable that a lady like Miss +Dalby would commit a robbery with murder of this cold-blooded, +deliberate type.” + +“That may be,” Thorndyke retorted, “but a jury has to find in +accordance with the evidence.” + +“By the way,” said I, “did Bawley ever send you that sheet of the +letter that you asked for?” + +“No, confound him! But I have sent Polton round to get it from him, so +that I can look it over carefully in the train. Which reminds me that +I can’t get down in time for the opening of the inquest. You had +better travel with the solicitors and see the shorthand writers +started. I shall have to come down by a later train.” + +Half an hour later, just as I was about to start, a familiar step was +heard on the stair, and then our laboratory assistant, Polton, let +himself in with his key. + +“Just caught him, sir, as he was starting for the station,” he said, +with a satisfied, crinkly smile, laying an envelope on the table, and +added, “Lord! how he did swear!” + +Thorndyke chuckled, and having thanked his assistant, opened the +envelope and handed it to me. It contained a single sheet of +letter-paper, exactly similar to the one that we had found in the +railway carriage, excepting that the writing filled one side and a +quarter only, and, since it concluded with the signature “Letitia +Humboe, President,” it was evidently the last sheet. There was no +water-mark nor anything, so far as I could see, to distinguish it from +the dozens of other impressions that had been run off the duplicator +with it, excepting the roughly-pencilled plan on the blank side of the +sheet. + +“Well,” I said as I put on my hat and walked towards the door, “I +suspect that Bawley was right. You won’t get much help from this to +support Miss Dalby’s rather improbable statement.” And Thorndyke +agreed that appearances were not very promising. + + +The scene in the coffee-room of “The Plough” Inn at Densford was one +with which I was familiar enough. The quiet, business-like coroner, +the half-embarrassed jurors, the local police and witnesses and the +spectators, penned up at one end of the room, were all well-known +characters. The unusual feature was the handsome, +distinguished-looking young lady who sat on a plain Windsor chair +between two inscrutable policemen, watched intently by Mr. Cadmus +Bawley. Miss Dalby was pale and obviously agitated, but quiet, +resolute, and somewhat defiant in manner. She greeted me with a +pleasant smile when I introduced myself, and hoped that I and my +colleague would have no difficulty in disposing of “this grotesque and +horrible accusation.” + +I need not describe the proceedings in detail. Evidence of the +identity of the deceased having been taken, Dr. Pooke deposed that +death was due to a wound of the heart produced by a spherical bullet, +apparently fired from a small, smooth-bore pistol at very short range. +The wound was in his opinion not self-inflicted. The coroner then +produced the sheet of the circular letter found in the carriage, and I +was called to testify to the finding of it. The next witness was +Superintendent Miller of the Criminal Investigation Department, who +produced the two sheets of the letter which were taken from Miss +Dalby’s pocket when she was arrested. These he handed to the coroner +for comparison with the one found in the carriage with the body of +deceased. + +“There appears,” said the coroner, after placing the three sheets +together, “to be one or more sheets missing. The two you have handed +me are sheets one and three, and the one found in the railway carriage +is sheet two.” + +“Yes,” the witness agreed, “sheet four is missing, but I have a +photograph of it. Here is a set of the complete letter,” and he laid +four unmounted prints on the table. + +The coroner examined them with a puzzled frown. “May I ask,” he said, +“how you obtained these photographs?” + +“They are not photographs of the copy that you have,” the witness +explained, “but of another copy of the same letter which we +intercepted in the post. That letter was addressed to a stationer’s +shop to be called for. We have considered it necessary to keep +ourselves informed of the contents of these circulars, so that we can +take the necessary precautions; and as the envelopes are marked with +the badge and are invariably addressed in blue ink, it is not +difficult to identify them.” + +“I see,” said the coroner, glaring stonily at Mr. Bawley, who had +accompanied the Superintendent’s statement with audible and +unfavourable comments. “Is that the whole of your evidence? Thank you. +Then, if there is no cross-examination, I will call the next witness. +Mr. Bernard Parsons.” + +Mr. Parsons was the general manager of the London and Suburban Bank, +and he deposed that deceased was, on the day when he met his death, +travelling to Holmwood to visit and inspect the new local branch of +the bank, and that he was taking thither the sum of three thousand +pounds, of which one thousand was in gold and the remainder in Bank of +England notes--mostly five-pound notes. He carried the notes and +specie in a strong leather handbag. + +“Can you say if either of these is the bag that he carried?” the +coroner asked, indicating two largish, black leather bags that his +officer had placed on the table. + +Mr. Parsons promptly pointed to the larger of the two, which was +smeared externally with mud. The coroner noted the answer and then +asked: + +“Did anyone besides yourself know that deceased was making this +visit?” + +“Many persons must have known,” was the reply. “Deceased visited the +various branches in a fixed order. He came to Holmwood on the second +Tuesday in the month.” + +“And would it be known that he had this great sum of money with him?” + +“The actual amount would not be generally known, but he usually took +with him supplies of specie and notes--sometimes very large sums--and +this would be known to many of the bank staff, and probably to a good +many persons outside. The Holmwood Branch consumes a good deal of +specie, as most of the customers pay in cheques and draw out cash for +local use.” + +This was the substance of Mr. Parsons’ evidence, and when he sat down +the ticket-collector was called. That official identified Miss Dalby +as one of the passengers by the train in which the body of deceased +was found. She was carrying a bag when she passed the barrier. He +could not identify either of the bags, but both were similar to the +one that she was carrying. She returned about an hour later and caught +an up-train, and he noticed that she was then not carrying a bag. He +could not say whether any of the other passengers was carrying a bag. +There were very few first-class passengers by that train, but a large +number of third-class--mostly fruit-pickers--and they made a dense +crowd at the barrier, so that he did not notice individual passengers +particularly. He noticed Miss Dalby because he knew her by sight, as +she often came to Holmwood with other suffragist ladies. He did not +see which carriage Miss Dalby came from, and he did not see any +first-class compartment with an open door. + +The coroner noted down this evidence with thoughtful deliberation, and +I was considering whether there were any questions that it would be +advisable to ask the witness when I felt a light touch on my shoulder, +and looking up perceived a constable holding out a telegram. Observing +that it was addressed to “Dr. Jervis, Plough Inn, Densford,” I nodded +to the constable, and taking the envelope from him, opened it and +unfolded the paper. The telegram was from Thorndyke, in the simple +code that he had devised for our private use. I was able to decode it +without referring to the key--which each of us always carried in his +pocket--and it then read: + + + “I am starting for Folkestone _in re_ Burnham deceased. Follow + immediately and bring Miller if you can for possible arrest. Meet me + on pier near Ostend boat. Thorndyke.” + + +Accustomed as I was to my colleague’s inveterate habit of acting in +the least expected manner, I must confess that I gazed at the decoded +message in absolute stupefaction. I had been totally unaware of the +faintest clue beyond the obvious evidence to which I had been +listening, and behold! here was Thorndyke with an entirely fresh case, +apparently cut-and-dried, and the unsuspected criminal in the hollow +of his hand. It was astounding. + +Unconsciously I raised my eyes--and met those of Superintendent +Miller, fixed on me with devouring curiosity. I held up the telegram +and beckoned, and immediately he tip-toed across and took a seat by my +side. I laid the decoded telegram before him, and when he had glanced +through it, I asked in a whisper: “Well, what do you say?” + +By way of reply, he whisked out a time-table, conned it eagerly for a +few minutes, and then held it towards me with his thumb-nail on the +words “Densford Junction.” + +“There’s a fast train up in seven minutes,” he whispered hoarsely. +“Get the coroner to excuse us and let your solicitors carry on for +you.” + +A brief, and rather vague, explanation secured the assent of the +coroner--since we had both given our evidence--and the less willing +agreement of my clients. In another minute the superintendent and I +were heading for the station, which we reached just as the train swept +up alongside the platform. + +“This is a queer start,” said Miller, as the train moved out of the +station; “but, Lord! there is never any calculating Dr. Thorndyke’s +moves. Did you know that he had anything up his sleeve?” + +“No; but then one never does know. He is as close as an oyster. He +never shows his hand until he can play a trump card. But it is +possible that he has struck a fresh clue since I left.” + +“Well,” rejoined Miller, “we shall know when we get to the other end. +And I don’t mind telling you that it will be a great relief to me if +we can drop this charge against Miss Dalby.” + +From time to time during the journey to London, and from thence to +Folkestone, the superintendent reverted to Thorndyke’s mysterious +proceedings. But it was useless to speculate. We had not a single fact +to guide us; and when, at last, the train ran into Folkestone Central +Station, we were as much in the dark as when we started. + +Assuming that Thorndyke would have made any necessary arrangements for +assistance from the local police, we chartered a cab and proceeded +direct to the end of Rendez-vous Street--a curiously appropriate +destination, by the way. Here we alighted in order that we might make +our appearance at the meeting place as inconspicuously as possible, +and, walking towards the harbour, perceived Thorndyke waiting on the +quay, ostensibly watching the loading of a barge, and putting in their +case a pair of prismatic binoculars with which he had apparently +observed our arrival. + +“I am glad you have come, Miller,” he said, shaking the +superintendent’s hand. “I can’t make any promises, but I have no doubt +that it is a case for you even if it doesn’t turn out all that I hope +and expect. The _Cornflower_ is our ship, and we had better go on +board separately in case our friends are keeping a look-out. I have +arranged matters with the captain, and the local superintendent has +got some plain-clothes men on the pier.” + +With this we separated. Thorndyke went on in advance, and Miller and I +followed at a discreet interval. + +As I descended the gangway a minute or so after Miller, a steward +approached me, and having asked my name, requested me to follow him, +when he conducted me to the purser’s office, in which I found +Thorndyke and Miller in conversation with the purser. + +“The gentlemen you are inquiring for,” said the latter, “are in the +smoking-room playing cards with another passenger. I have put a +tarpaulin over one of the ports, in case you want to have a look at +them without being seen.” + +“Perhaps you had better make a preliminary inspection, Miller,” said +Thorndyke. “You may know some of them.” + +To this suggestion the superintendent agreed, and forthwith went off +with the purser, leaving me and Thorndyke alone. I at once took the +opportunity to demand an explanation. + +“I take it that you struck some new evidence after I left you?” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “And none too soon, as you see. I don’t +quite know what it will amount to, but I think we have secured the +defence, at any rate; and that is really all that we are concerned +with. The positive aspects of the case are the business of the police. +But here comes Miller, looking very pleased with himself, and with the +purser.” + +The superintendent, however, was not only pleased; he was also not a +little puzzled. + +“Well!” he exclaimed, “this is a quaint affair. We have got two of the +leading lights of the suffrage movement in there. One is Jameson, the +secretary of the Women’s Emancipation League, the other is Pinder, +their chief bobbery-monger. Then there are two men named Dorman and +Spiller, both of them swell crooks, I am certain, though we have never +been able to fix anything on them. The fifth man I don’t know.” + +“Neither do I,” said Thorndyke. “My repertoire includes only four. And +now we will proceed to sort them out. Could we have a few words with +Mr. Thorpe--in here, if you don’t mind.” + +“Certainly,” replied the purser. “I’ll go and fetch him.” He bustled +away in the direction of the smoking-room, whence he presently +reappeared, accompanied by a tall, lean man who wore large bi-focal +spectacles of the old-fashioned, split-lens type, and was smoking a +cigar. As the new-comer approached down the alley-way, it was evident +that he was nervous and uneasy, though he maintained a certain jaunty +swagger that accorded ill with a pronounced, habitual stoop. As he +entered the cabin, however, and became aware of the portentous group +of strangers, the swagger broke down completely; suddenly his face +became ashen and haggard, and he peered through his great spectacles +from one to the others with an expression of undisguisable terror. + +“Mr. Thorpe?” queried Thorndyke; and the superintendent murmured: +“Alias Pinder.” + +“Yes,” was the reply, in a husky undertone. “What can I do for you?” + +Thorndyke turned to the superintendent. + +“I charge this man,” said he, “with having murdered Francis Burnham in +the train between London and Holmwood.” + +The superintendent was visibly astonished, but not more so than the +accused, on whom Thorndyke’s statement produced the most singular +effect. In a moment, his terror seemed to drop from him; the colour +returned to his face, the haggard expression of which gave place to +one of obvious relief. + +Miller stood up, and addressing the accused, began: + +“It is my duty to caution you--” but the other interrupted: + +“Caution your grandmother! You are talking a parcel of dam’ nonsense. +I was in Birmingham when the murder was committed. I can prove it, +easily.” + +The superintendent was somewhat taken aback, for the accused spoke +with a confidence that carried conviction. + +“In that case,” said Thorndyke, “you can probably explain how a letter +belonging to you came to be found in the carriage with the murdered +man.” + +“Belonging to me!” exclaimed Thorpe. “What the deuce do you mean? That +letter belonged to Miss Dalby. The rest of it was found in her +pocket.” + +“Precisely,” said Thorndyke. “One sheet had been placed in the railway +carriage and the remainder in Miss Dalby’s pocket to fix suspicion on +her. But it was your letter, and the inference is that you disposed of +it in that manner for the purpose that I have stated.” + +“But,” persisted Thorpe, with visibly-growing uneasiness, “this was a +duplicated circular. You couldn’t tell one copy from another.” + +“Mr. Pinder,” said Thorndyke, in an impressively quiet tone, “if I +tell you that I ascertained from that letter that you had taken a +passage on this ship in the name of Thorpe, you will probably +understand what I mean.” + +Apparently he did understand, for, once more, the colour faded from +his face and he sat down heavily on a locker, fixing on Thorndyke a +look of undisguised dismay. Thus he sat for some moments, motionless +and silent, apparently thinking hard. + +Suddenly he started up. “My God!” he exclaimed, “I see now what has +happened. The infernal scoundrel! First he put it on to Miss Dalby, +and now he has put it on to me. Now I understand why he looked so +startled when I ran against him.” + +“What do you mean?” asked Thorndyke. + +“I’ll tell you,” replied Pinder. “As I move about a good deal--and for +other reasons--I used to have my suffrage letters sent to a +stationer’s shop in Barlow Street----” + +“I know,” interrupted the superintendent; “Bedall’s. I used to look +them over and take photographs of them.” He grinned craftily as he +made this statement, and, rather to my surprise, the accused grinned +too. A little later I understood that grin. + +“Well,” continued Pinder, “I used to collect these letters pretty +regularly. But this last letter was delivered while I was away at +Birmingham. Before I came back I met a man who gave me +certain--er--instructions--you know what they were,” he added, +addressing Thorndyke--“so I did not need the letter. But, of course, I +couldn’t leave it there uncollected, so when I got back to London, I +called for it. That was two days ago. To my astonishment Miss Bedall +declared that I had collected it three days previously. I assured her +that I was not in London on that day, but she was positive that I had +called. ‘I remember clearly,’ she said, ‘giving you the letter +myself.’ Well, there was no arguing. Evidently she had given the +letter to the wrong person--she is very nearsighted, I should say, +judging by the way she holds things against her nose--but how it +happened I couldn’t understand. But I think I understand now. There is +one person only in the world who knew that I had my letters addressed +there: a sort of pal of mine named Payne. He happened to be with me +one evening when I called to collect my letters. Now, Payne chanced to +be a good deal like me--at least, he is tall and thin and stoops a +bit; but he does not wear spectacles. He tried on my spectacles once +for a joke, and then he really looked extremely like me. He looked in +a mirror and remarked on the resemblance himself. Now, Payne did not +belong to the Women’s League, and I suggest that he took advantage of +this resemblance to get possession of this letter. He got a pair of +spectacles like mine and personated me at the shop.” + +“Why should he want to get possession of that letter?” Miller +demanded. + +“To plant it as he has planted it,” replied Pinder, “and set the +police on a false trail.” + +“This sounds pretty thin,” said Miller. “You are accusing this man of +having murdered Mr. Burnham. What grounds have you for this +accusation?” + +“My grounds,” replied Pinder, “are, first, that he stole this letter +which has been found, obviously planted; and, second, that he had a +grudge against Burnham and knew all about his movements.” + +“Indeed!” said Miller, with suddenly increased interest. “Then who and +what is this man Payne?” + +“Why,” replied Pinder, “until a month ago, he was assistant cashier at +the Streatham branch of the bank. Then Burnham came down and hoofed +him out without an hour’s notice. I don’t know what for, but I can +guess.” + +“Do you happen to know where Payne is at this moment?” + +“Yes, I do. He is on this ship, in the smoking-room--only he is Mr. +Shenstone now. And mighty sick he was when he found me on board.” + +The superintendent looked at Thorndyke. + +“What do you think about it, doctor?” he asked. + +“I think,” said Thorndyke, “that we had better have Mr. Shenstone in +here and ask him a few questions. Would you see if you can get him to +come here?” he added, addressing the purser, who had been listening +with ecstatic enjoyment. + +“I’ll get him to come along all right,” replied the purser, evidently +scenting a new act in this enthralling drama; and away he bustled, all +agog. In less than a minute we saw him returning down the alley-way, +with a tall, thin man, who, at a distance, was certainly a good deal +like Pinder, though the resemblance diminished as he approached. He, +too, was obviously agitated, and seemed to be plying the purser with +questions. But when he came opposite the door of the cabin he stopped +dead and seemed disposed to shrink back. + +“Is that the man?” Thorndyke demanded sharply and rather loudly, +springing to his feet as he spoke. + +The effect of the question was electrical. As Thorndyke rose, the +new-comer turned, and, violently thrusting the purser aside, raced +madly down the alley-way and out on to the deck. + +“Stop that man!” roared Miller, darting out in pursuit; and at the +shout a couple of loitering deck-hands headed the fugitive off from +the gangway. Following, I saw the terrified man swerving this way and +that across the littered deck to avoid the seamen, who joined in the +pursuit; I saw him make a sudden frantic burst for a baggage-slide +springing from a bollard up to the bulwark-rail. Then his foot must +have tripped on a lashing, for he staggered for a moment, flung out +his arms with a wild shriek, and plunged headlong into the space +between the ship’s side and the quay wall. + +In an instant the whole ship was in an uproar. An officer and two +hands sprang to the rail with ropes and a boathook, while others +manned the cargo derrick and lowered a rope with a running bowline +between the ship and the quay. + +“He’s gone under,” a hoarse voice proclaimed from below; “but I can +see him jammed against the side.” + +There were a couple of minutes of sickening suspense. Then the voice +from below was heard again. + +“Heave up!” + +The derrick-engine rattled, the taut rope came up slowly, and at +length out of that horrid gulf arose a limp and dripping shape that, +as it cleared the bulwark, was swung inboard and let down gently on +the deck. Thorndyke and I stooped over him. But it was a dead man’s +face that we looked into; and a tinge of blood on the lips told the +rest of the tale. + +“Cover him up,” said the superintendent. “He’s out of our jurisdiction +now. But what’s going on there?” + +Following his look, I perceived a small, scattered crowd of men all +running furiously along the quay towards the town. Some of them I +judged to be the late inmates of the smoking-room and some +plain-clothes men. The only figure that I recognized was that of Mr. +Pinder, and he was already growing small in the distance. + +“The local police will have to deal with them,” said Miller. Then +turning to the purser, he asked: “What baggage had this man?” + +“Only two cabin trunks,” was the reply. “They are both in his +state-room.” + +To the state-room we followed the purser, when Miller had possessed +himself of the dead man’s keys, and the two trunks were hoisted on to +the bunk and opened. Each trunk contained a large cash-box, and each +cash-box contained five hundred pounds in gold and a big bundle of +notes. The latter Miller examined closely, checking their numbers by a +column of entries in his pocket-book. + +“Yes,” he reported at length; “it’s a true bill. These are the notes +that were stolen from Mr. Burnham. And now I will have a look at the +baggage of those other four sportsmen.” + +This being no affair of ours, Thorndyke and I went ashore and slowly +made our way towards the town. But presently the superintendent +overtook us in high glee, with the news that he had discovered what +appeared to be the accumulated “swag” of a gang of swell burglars for +whom he had been for some months vainly on the look-out. + + +“How was it done?” repeated Thorndyke in reply to Miller’s question, +as we sat at a retired table in the “Lord Warden” Hotel. “Well, it was +really very simple. I am afraid I shall disappoint you if you expect +anything ingenious and recondite. Of course, it was obvious that Miss +Dalby had not committed this atrocious murder and robbery; and it was +profoundly improbable that this extremely incriminating letter had +been dropped accidentally. That being so, it was almost certain that +the letter had been ‘planted,’ as Pinder expressed it. But that was a +mere opinion that helped us not at all. The actual solution turned +upon a simple chemical fact with which I happened to be acquainted; +which is this: that all the basic coal-tar dyes, and especially +methylene blue, dye oxycellulose without requiring a mordant, but do +not react in this way on cellulose. Now, good paper is practically +pure cellulose; and if you dip a sheet of such paper into certain +oxidizing liquids, such as a solution of potassium chlorate with a +slight excess of hydrochloric acid, the paper is converted into +oxycellulose. But if instead of immersing the paper, you write on it +with a quill or glass pen dipped in the solution, only the part which +has been touched by the pen is changed into oxycellulose. No change is +visible to the eye: but if a sheet of paper written on with this +colourless fluid is dipped in a solution of, say, methylene blue, the +invisible writing immediately becomes visible. The oxycellulose takes +up the blue dye. + +“Now, when I picked up that sheet of the letter in the railway +carriage and noted that the ink used appeared to be methylene blue, +this fact was recalled to my mind. Then, on looking at it closely, I +seemed to detect a certain slight spottiness in the writing. There +were points on some of the letters that were a little deeper in colour +than the rest; and it occurred to me that it was possible that these +circulars might be used to transmit secret messages of a less innocent +kind than those that met the unaided eye, just as these political +societies might form an excellent cover for the operations of criminal +associations. But if the circulars had been so used, it is evident +that the secret writing would not be on all the circulars. The +prepared sheets would be used only for the circulars that were to be +sent to particular persons, and in those cases the secret writing +would probably be in the nature of a personal communication, either to +a particular individual or to a small group. The possible presence of +a secret message thus became of vital evidential importance; for if it +could be shown that this letter was addressed to some person other +than Miss Dalby, that would dispose of the only evidence connecting +her with the crime. + +“It happened, most fortunately, that I was able to get possession of +the final sheet of this letter----” + +“Of course it did,” growled Miller, with a sour smile. + +“It reached me,” continued Thorndyke, “only after Dr. Jervis had +started for Densford. The greater part of one side was blank, +excepting for a rough plan drawn in pencil, and this blank side I laid +down on a sheet of glass and wetted the written side with a small wad +of cotton-wool dipped in distilled water. Of course, the blue writing +began to run and dissolve out; and then, very faintly, some other +writing began to show through in reverse. I turned the paper over, and +now the new writing, though faint, was quite legible, and became more +so when I wiped the blue-stained cotton-wool over it a few times. A +solution of methylene blue would have made it still plainer, but I +used water only, as I judged that the blue writing was intended to +furnish the dye for development. Here is the final result.” + +He drew from his pocket a letter-case, from which he extracted a +folded paper which he opened and laid on the table. It was stained a +faint blue, through which the original writing could be seen, dim and +blurred, while the secret message, though very pale, was quite sharp +and clear. And this was the message: + + + “… so although we are not actually blown on, the position is getting + risky and it’s time for us to hop. I have booked passages for the four + of us to Ostend by the _Cornflower_, which sails on Friday evening + next (20th). The names of the four illustrious passengers are, Walsh + (that’s me), Grubb (Dorman), Jenkins (Spiller), and Thorpe (that’s + you). Get those names well into your canister--better make a note of + them--and turn up in good time on Friday.” + + +“Well,” said Miller, as he handed back the letter, “we can’t know +everything--unless we are Dr. Thorndyke. But there’s one thing I do +know.” + +“What is that?” I asked. + +“I know why that fellow, Pinder, grinned when I told him that I had +photographed his confounded letters.” + + + + + IV. + THE NATURALIST AT LAW + +A hush had fallen on the court as the coroner concluded his brief +introductory statement and the first witness took up his position by +the long table. The usual preliminary questions elicited that Simon +Moffet, the witness aforesaid, was fifty-eight years of age, that he +followed the calling of a shepherd and that he was engaged in +supervising the flocks that fed upon the low-lying meadows adjoining +the little town of Bantree in Buckinghamshire. + +“Tell us how you came to discover the body,” said the coroner. + +“’Twas on Wednesday morning, about half-past five,” Moffet began. “I +was getting the sheep through the gate into the big meadow by Reed’s +farm, when I happened to look down the dyke, and then I noticed a boot +sticking up out of the water. Seemed to me as if there was a foot in +it by the way it stuck up, so as soon as all the sheep was in, I shut +the gate and walked down the dyke to have a look at un. When I got +close I see the toe of another boot just alongside. Looks a bit queer, +I thinks, but I couldn’t see anything more, ’cause the duck-weed is +that thick as it looks as if you could walk on it. Howsever, I clears +away the weed with my stick, and then I see ’twas a dead man. Give me +a rare turn, it did. He was a-layin’ at the bottom of the ditch with +his head near the middle and his feet up close to the bank. Just then +young Harry Walker comes along the cart-track on his way to work, so I +shows him the body and sends him back to the town for to give notice +at the police station.” + +“And is that all you know about the affair?” + +“Ay. Later on I see the sergeant come along with a man wheelin’ the +stretcher, and I showed him where the body was and helped to pull it +out and load it on the stretcher. And that’s all I know about it.” + +On this the witness was dismissed and his place taken by a +shrewd-looking, business-like police sergeant, who deposed as follows: + +“Last Wednesday, the 8th of May, at 6.15 a.m., I received information +from Henry Walker that a dead body was lying in the ditch by the +cart-track leading from Ponder’s Road to Reed’s farm. I proceeded +there forthwith, accompanied by Police-Constable Ketchum, and taking +with us a wheeled stretcher. On the track I was met by the last +witness, who conducted me to the place where the body was lying and +where I found it in the position that he has described; but we had to +clear away the duck-weed before we could see it distinctly. I examined +the bank carefully, but could see no trace of footprints, as the grass +grows thickly right down to the water’s edge. There were no signs of a +struggle or any disturbance on the bank. With the aid of Moffet and +Ketchum, I drew the body out and placed it on the stretcher. I could +not see any injuries or marks of violence on the body or anything +unusual about it. I conveyed it to the mortuary, and with Constable +Ketchum’s assistance removed the clothing and emptied the pockets, +putting the contents of each pocket in a separate envelope and writing +the description on each. In a letter-case from the coat pocket were +some visiting cards bearing the name and address of Mr. Cyrus Pedley, +of 21 Hawtrey Mansions, Kensington, and a letter signed Wilfred +Pedley, apparently from deceased’s brother. Acting on instructions, I +communicated with him and served a summons to attend this inquest.” + +“With regard to the ditch in which you found the body,” said the +coroner, “can you tell us how deep it is?” + +“Yes; I measured it with Moffet’s crook and a tape measure. In the +deepest part, where the body was lying, it is four feet two inches +deep. From there it slopes up pretty sharply to the bank.” + +“So far as you can judge, if a grown man fell into the ditch by +accident, would he have any difficulty in getting out?” + +“None at all, I should say, if he were sober and in ordinary health. A +man of medium height, standing in the middle at the deepest part would +have his head and shoulders out of water; and the sides are not too +steep to climb up easily, especially with the grass and rushes on the +bank to lay hold of.” + +“You say there were no signs of disturbance on the bank. Were there +any in the ditch itself?” + +“None that I could see. But, of course, signs of disturbance soon +disappear in water. The duck-weed drifts about as the wind drives it, +and there are creatures moving about on the bottom. I noticed that +deceased had some weed grasped in one hand.” + +This concluded the sergeant’s evidence, and as he retired, the name of +Dr. Albert Parton was called. The new witness was a young man of grave +and professional aspect, who gave his evidence with an extreme regard +for clearness and accuracy. + +“I have made an examination of the body of the deceased,” he began, +after the usual preliminaries. “It is that of a healthy man of about +forty-five. I first saw it about two hours after it was found. It had +then been dead from twelve to fifteen hours. Later I made a complete +examination. I found no injuries, marks of violence or any definite +bruises, and no signs of disease.” + +“Did you ascertain the cause of death?” the coroner asked. + +“Yes. The cause of death was drowning.” + +“You are quite sure of that?” + +“Quite sure. The lungs contained a quantity of water and duck-weed, +and there was more than a quart of water mixed with duck-weed and +water-weed in the stomach. That is a clear proof of death by drowning. +The water in the lungs was the immediate cause of death, by making +breathing impossible, and as the water and weed in the stomach must +have been swallowed, they furnish conclusive evidence that deceased +was alive when he fell into the water.” + +“The water and weed could not have got into the stomach after death?” + +“No, that is quite impossible. They must have been swallowed when the +head of the deceased was just below the surface; and the water must +have been drawn into the lungs by spasmodic efforts to breathe when +the mouth was under water.” + +“Did you find any signs indicating that deceased might have been +intoxicated?” + +“No. I examined the water from the stomach very carefully with that +question in view, but there was no trace of alcohol--or, indeed, of +anything else. It was simple ditch-water. As the point is important I +have preserved it, and----” here the witness produced a paper parcel +which he unfastened, revealing a large glass jar containing about a +quart of water plentifully sprinkled with duck-weed. This he presented +to the coroner, who waved it away hastily and indicated the jury; to +whom it was then offered and summarily rejected with emphatic +head-shakes. Finally it came to rest on the table by the place where I +was sitting with my colleague, Dr. Thorndyke, and our client, Mr. +Wilfred Pedley. I glanced at it with faint interest, noting how the +duck-weed plants had risen to the surface and floated, each with its +tassel of roots hanging down into the water, and how a couple of tiny, +flat shells, like miniature ammonites, had sunk and lay on the bottom +of the jar. Thorndyke also glanced at it; indeed, he did more than +glance, for he drew the jar towards him and examined its contents in +the systematic way in which it was his habit to examine everything. +Meanwhile the coroner asked: + +“Did you find anything abnormal or unusual, or anything that could +throw light on how deceased came to be in the water?” + +“Nothing whatever,” was the reply. “I found simply that deceased met +his death by drowning.” + +Here, as the witness seemed to have finished his evidence, Thorndyke +interposed. + +“The witness states, sir, there were no definite bruises. Does he mean +that there were any marks that might have been bruises?” + +The coroner glanced at Dr. Parton, who replied: + +“There was a faint mark on the outside of the right arm, just above +the elbow, which had somewhat the appearance of a bruise, as if the +deceased had been struck with a stick. But it was very indistinct. I +shouldn’t like to swear that it was a bruise at all.” + +This concluded the doctor’s evidence, and when he had retired, the +name of our client, Wilfred Pedley, was called. He rose, and having +taken the oath and given his name and address, deposed: + +“I have viewed the body of deceased. It is that of my brother, Cyrus +Pedley, who is forty-three years of age. The last time I saw deceased +alive was on Tuesday morning, the day before the body was found.” + +“Did you notice anything unusual in his manner or state of mind?” + +The witness hesitated but at length replied: + +“Yes. He seemed anxious and depressed. He had been in low spirits for +some time past, but on this occasion he seemed more so than usual.” + +“Had you any reason to suspect that he might contemplate taking his +life?” + +“No,” the witness replied, emphatically, “and I do not believe that he +would, under any circumstances, have contemplated suicide.” + +“Have you any special reason for that belief?” + +“Yes. Deceased was a highly conscientious man and he was in my debt. +He had occasion to borrow two thousand pounds from me, and the debt +was secured by an insurance on his life. If he had committed suicide +that insurance would be invalidated and the debt would remain unpaid. +From my knowledge of him, I feel certain that he would not have done +such a thing.” + +The coroner nodded gravely, and then asked: + +“What was deceased’s occupation?” + +“He was employed in some way by the Foreign Office, I don’t know in +what capacity. I know very little about his affairs.” + +“Do you know if he had any money worries or any troubles or +embarrassments of any kind?” + +“I have never heard of any; but deceased was a very reticent man. He +lived alone in his flat, taking his meals at his club, and no one +knew--at least, I did not--how he spent his time or what was the state +of his finances. He was not married, and I am his only near relative.” + +“And as to deceased’s habits. Was he ever addicted to taking more +stimulants than was good for him?” + +“Never,” the witness replied emphatically. “He was a most temperate +and abstemious man.” + +“Was he subject to fits of any kind, or fainting attacks?” + +“I have never heard that he was.” + +“Can you account for his being in this solitary place at this +time--apparently about eight o’clock at night?” + +“I cannot. It is a complete mystery to me. I know of no one with whom +either of us was acquainted in this district. I had never heard of the +place until I got the summons to the inquest.” + +This was the sum of our client’s evidence, and, so far, things did not +look very favourable from our point of view--we were retained on the +insurance question, to rebut, if possible, the suggestion of suicide. +However, the coroner was a discreet man, and having regard to the +obscurity of the case--and perhaps to the interests involved--summed +up in favour of an open verdict; and the jury, taking a similar view, +found that deceased met his death by drowning, but under what +circumstances there was no evidence to show. + +“Well,” I said, as the court rose, “that leaves it to the insurance +people to make out a case of suicide if they can. I think you are +fairly safe, Mr. Pedley. There is no positive evidence.” + +“No,” our client replied. “But it isn’t only the money I am thinking +of. It would be some consolation to me for the loss of my poor brother +if I had some idea how he met with his death, and could feel sure that +it was an unavoidable misadventure. And for my own +satisfaction--leaving the insurance out of the question--I should like +to have definite proof that it was not suicide.” + +He looked half-questioningly at Thorndyke, who nodded gravely. + +“Yes,” the latter agreed, “the suggestion of suicide ought to be +disposed of if possible, both for legal and sentimental reasons. How +far away is the mortuary?” + +“A couple of minutes’ walk,” replied Mr. Pedley. “Did you wish to +inspect the body?” + +“If it is permissible,” replied Thorndyke; “and then I propose to have +a look at the place where the body was found.” + +“In that case,” our client said, “I will go down to the Station Hotel +and wait for you. We may as well travel up to town together, and you +can then tell me if you have seen any further light on the mystery.” + +As soon as he was gone, Dr. Parton advanced, tying the string of the +parcel which once more enclosed the jar of ditch-water. + +“I heard you say, sir, that you would like to inspect the body,” said +he. “If you like, I will show you the way to the mortuary. The +sergeant will let us in, won’t you, sergeant? This gentleman is a +doctor as well as a lawyer.” + +“Bless you, sir,” said the sergeant, “I know who Dr. Thorndyke is, and +I shall feel it an honour to show him anything he wishes to see.” + +Accordingly we set forth together, Dr. Parton and Thorndyke leading +the way. + +“The coroner and the jury didn’t seem to appreciate my exhibit,” the +former remarked with a faint grin, tapping the parcel as he spoke. + +“No,” Thorndyke agreed; “and it is hardly reasonable to expect a +layman to share our own matter-of-fact outlook. But you were quite +right to produce the specimen. That ditch-water furnishes conclusive +evidence on a vitally material question. Further, I would advise you +to preserve that jar for the present, well covered and under lock and +key.” + +Parton looked surprised. + +“Why?” he asked. “The inquest is over and the verdict pronounced.” + +“Yes, but it was an open verdict, and an open verdict leaves the case +in the air. The inquest has thrown no light on the question as to how +Cyrus Pedley came by his death.” + +“There doesn’t seem to me much mystery about it,” said the doctor. +“Here is a man found drowned in a shallow ditch which he could easily +have got out of if he had fallen in by accident. He was not drunk. +Apparently he was not in a fit of any kind. There are no marks of +violence and no signs of a struggle, and the man is known to have been +in an extremely depressed state of mind. It looks like a clear case of +suicide, though I admit that the jury were quite right, in the absence +of direct evidence.” + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “it will be my duty to contest that view if +the insurance company dispute the claim on those grounds.” + +“I can’t think what you will have to offer in answer to the suggestion +of suicide,” said Parton. + +“Neither can I, at present,” replied Thorndyke. “But the case doesn’t +look to me quite so simple as it does to you.” + +“You think it possible that an analysis of the contents of this jar +may be called for?” + +“That is a possibility,” replied Thorndyke. “But I mean that the case +is obscure, and that some further inquiry into the circumstances of +this man’s death is by no means unlikely.” + +“Then,” said Parton, “I will certainly follow your advice and lock up +this precious jar. But here we are at the mortuary. Is there anything +in particular that you want to see?” + +“I want to see all that there is to see,” Thorndyke replied. “The +evidence has been vague enough so far. Shall we begin with that bruise +or mark that you mentioned?” + +Dr. Parton advanced to the grim, shrouded figure that lay on the +slate-topped table, like some solemn effigy on an altar tomb, and drew +back the sheet that covered it. We all approached, stepping softly, +and stood beside the table, looking down with a certain awesome +curiosity at the still, waxen figure that, but a few hours since, had +been a living man like ourselves. The body was that of a good-looking, +middle-aged man with a refined, intelligent face--slightly disfigured +by a scar on the cheek--now set in the calm, reposeful expression that +one so usually finds on the faces of the drowned; with drowsy, +half-closed eyes and slightly parted lips that revealed a considerable +gap in the upper front teeth. + +Thorndyke stood awhile looking down on the dead man with a curious +questioning expression. Then his eye travelled over the body, from the +placid face to the marble-like torso and the hand which, though now +relaxed, still lightly grasped a tuft of water-weed. The latter +Thorndyke gently disengaged from the limp hand, and, after a glance at +the dark green, feathery fronds, laid it down and stooped to examine +the right arm at the spot above the elbow that Parton had spoken of. + +“Yes,” he said, “I think I should call it a bruise, though it is very +faint. As you say, it might have been produced by a blow with a stick +or rod. I notice that there are some teeth missing. Presumably he wore +a plate?” + +“Yes,” replied Parton; “a smallish gold plate with four teeth on +it--at least, so his brother told me. Of course, it fell out when he +was in the water, but it hasn’t been found; in fact, it hasn’t been +looked for.” + +Thorndyke nodded and then turned to the sergeant. + +“Could I see what you found in the pockets?” he asked. + +The sergeant complied readily, and my colleague watched his orderly +procedure with evident approval. The collection of envelopes was +produced from an attaché-case and conveyed to a side table, where the +sergeant emptied out the contents of each into a little heap, opposite +which he placed the appropriate envelope with its written description. +Thorndyke ran his eye over the collection--which was commonplace +enough--until he came to the tobacco pouch, from which protruded the +corner of a scrap of crumpled paper. This he drew forth and smoothed +out the creases, when it was seen to be a railway receipt for an +excess fare. + +“Seems to have lost his ticket or travelled without one,” the sergeant +remarked. “But not on this line.” + +“No,” agreed Thorndyke. “It is the Tilbury and Southend line. But you +notice the date. It is the 18th; and the body was found on the morning +of Wednesday, the 19th. So it would appear that he must have come into +this neighbourhood in the evening; and that he must have come either +by way of London or by a very complicated cross-country route. I +wonder what brought him here.” + +He produced his note-book and was beginning to copy the receipt when +the sergeant said: + +“You had better take the paper, sir. It is of no use to us now, and it +isn’t very easy to make out.” + +Thorndyke thanked the officer, and, handing me the paper, asked: + +“What do you make of it, Jervis?” + +I scrutinized the little crumpled scrap and deciphered with difficulty +the hurried scrawl, scribbled with a hard, ill-sharpened pencil. + +“It seems to read Ldn to ‘C.B. or S.B., Hlt’--that is some ‘Halt,’ I +presume. But the amount, 4/9, is clear enough, and that will give us a +clue if we want one.” I returned the paper to Thorndyke, who bestowed +it in his pocket-book and then remarked: + +“I don’t see any keys.” + +“No, sir,” replied the sergeant, “there aren’t any. Rather queer, +that, for he must have had at least a latch-key. They must have fallen +out into the water.” + +“That is possible,” said Thorndyke, “but it would be worth while to +make sure. Is there anyone who could show us the place where the body +was found?” + +“I will walk up there with you myself, sir, with pleasure,” said the +sergeant, hastily repacking the envelopes. “It is only a quarter of an +hour’s walk from here.” + +“That is very good of you, sergeant,” my colleague responded; “and as +we seem to have seen everything here, I propose that we start at once. +You are not coming with us, Parton?” + +“No,” the doctor replied. “I have finished with the case and I have +got my work to do.” He shook hands with us heartily and watched +us--with some curiosity, I think--as we set forth in company with the +sergeant. + +His curiosity did not seem to me to be unjustified. In fact, I shared +it. The presence of the police officer precluded discussion, but as we +took our way out of the town I found myself speculating curiously on +my colleague’s proceedings. To me, suicide was written plainly on +every detail of the case. Of course, we did not wish to take that +view, but what other was possible? Had Thorndyke some alternative +theory? Or was he merely, according to his invariable custom, making +an impartial survey of everything, no matter how apparently trivial, +in the hope of lighting on some new and informative fact? + +The temporary absence of the sergeant, who had stopped to speak to a +constable on duty, enabled me to put the question. + +“Is this expedition intended to clear up anything in particular?” + +“No,” he replied, “excepting the keys, which ought to be found. But +you must see for yourself that this is not a straightforward case. +That man did not come all this way merely to drown himself in a ditch. +I am quite in the dark at present, so there is nothing for it but to +examine everything with our own eyes and see if there is anything that +has been overlooked that may throw some light on either the motive or +the circumstances. It is always desirable to examine the scene of a +crime or a tragedy.” + +Here the return of the sergeant put a stop to the discussion and we +proceeded on our way in silence. Already we had passed out of the +town, and we now turned out of the main road into a lane or by-road, +bordered by meadows and orchards and enclosed by rather high +hedgerows. + +“This is Ponder’s Road,” said the sergeant. “It leads to Renham, a +couple of miles farther on, where it joins the Aylesbury Road. The +cart track is on the left a little way along.” + +A few minutes later we came to our turning, a narrow and rather muddy +lane, the entrance to which was shaded by a grove of tall elms. +Passing through this shady avenue, we came out on a grass-covered +track, broken by deep wagon-ruts and bordered on each side by a ditch, +beyond which was a wide expanse of marshy meadows. + +“This is the place,” said the sergeant, halting by the side of the +right-hand ditch and indicating a spot where the rushes had been +flattened down. “It was just as you see it now, only the feet were +just visible sticking out of the duck-weed, which had drifted back +after Moffet had disturbed it.” + +We stood awhile looking at the ditch, with its thick mantle of bright +green, spotted with innumerable small dark objects and showing here +and there a faint track where a water-vole had swum across. + +“Those little dark objects are water-snails, I suppose,” said I, by +way of making some kind of remark. + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke; “the common Amber shell, I think--_Succinea +putris_.” He reached out his stick and fished up a sample of the +duck-weed, on which one or two of the snails were crawling. “Yes,” he +repeated. “_Succinea putris_ it is; a queer little left-handed shell, +with the spire, as you see, all lop-sided. They have a habit of +swarming in this extraordinary way. You notice that the ditch is +covered with them.” + +I had already observed this, but it hardly seemed to be worth +commenting on under the present circumstances--which was apparently +the sergeant’s view also, for he looked at Thorndyke with some +surprise, which developed into impatience when my colleague proceeded +further to expand on the subject of natural history. + +“These water-weeds,” he observed, “are very remarkable plants in their +various ways. Look at this duck-weed, for instance. Just a little +green oval disc with a single root hanging down into the water, like a +tiny umbrella with a long handle; and yet it is a complete plant, and +a flowering plant, too.” He picked a specimen off the end of his stick +and held it up by its root to exhibit its umbrella-like form; and as +he did so, he looked in my face with an expression that I felt to be +somehow significant; but of which I could not extract the meaning. But +there was no difficulty in interpreting the expression on the +sergeant’s face. He had come here on business and he wanted to “cut +the cackle and get to the hosses.” + +“Well, sergeant,” said Thorndyke, “there isn’t much to see, but I +think we ought to have a look for those keys. He must have had keys of +some kind, if only a latch-key; and they must be in this ditch.” + +The sergeant was not enthusiastic. “I’ve no doubt you are right, sir,” +said he; “but I don’t see that we should be much forrarder if we found +them. However, we may as well have a look, only I can’t stay more than +a few minutes. I’ve got my work to do at the station.” + +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “let us get to work at once. We had better +hook out the weed and look it over; and if the keys are not in that, +we must try to expose the bottom where the body was lying. You must +tell us if we are working in the right place.” + +With this he began, with the crooked handle of his stick, to rake up +the tangle of weed that covered the bottom of the ditch and drag the +detached masses ashore, piling them on the bank and carefully looking +them through to see if the keys should chance to be entangled in their +meshes. In this work I took my part under the sergeant’s direction, +raking in load after load of the delicate, stringy weed, on the pale +green ribbon-like leaves of which multitudes of the water-snails were +creeping; and sorting over each batch in hopeless and fruitless search +for the missing keys. In about ten minutes we had removed the entire +weedy covering from the bottom of the ditch over an area of from eight +to nine feet--the place which, according to the sergeant, the body had +occupied; and as the duck-weed had been caught by the tangled masses +of water-weed that we had dragged ashore, we now had an uninterrupted +view of the cleared space save for the clouds of mud that we had +stirred up. + +“We must give the mud a few minutes to settle,” said Thorndyke. + +“Yes,” the sergeant agreed, “it will take some time; and as it doesn’t +really concern me now that the inquest is over, I think I will get +back to the station if you will excuse me.” + +Thorndyke excused him very willingly, I think, though politely and +with many thanks for his help. When he had gone I remarked: + +“I am inclined to agree with the sergeant. If we find the keys we +shan’t be much forrarder.” + +“We shall know that he had them with him,” he replied. “Though, of +course, if we don’t find them, that will not prove that they are not +here. Still, I think we should try to settle the question.” + +His answer left me quite unconvinced; but the care with which he +searched the ditch and sorted out the weed left me in no doubt that, +to him, the matter seemed to be of some importance. However, nothing +came of the search. If the keys were there they were buried in the +mud, and eventually we had to give up the search and make our way back +towards the station. + +As we passed out of the lane into Ponder’s Road, Thorndyke stopped at +the entrance, under the trees, by a little triangle of turf which +marked the beginning of the lane, and looked down at the muddy ground. + +“Here is quite an interesting thing, Jervis,” he remarked, “which +shows us how standardized objects tend to develop an individual +character. These are the tracks of a car, or more probably a +tradesman’s van, which was fitted with Barlow tyres. Now there must be +thousands of vans fitted with these tyres; they are the favourite type +for light covered vans, and when new they are all alike and +indistinguishable. Yet this tyre--of the off hind-wheel--has acquired +a character which would enable one to pick it out with certainty from +ten thousand others. First, you see, there is a deep cut in the tyre +at an angle of forty-five, then a kidney-shaped ‘Blakey’ has stuck in +the outer tyre without puncturing the inner; and finally some adhesive +object--perhaps a lump of pitch from a newly-mended road--has become +fixed on just behind the ‘Blakey.’ Now, if we make a rough sketch of +those three marks and indicate their distance apart, thus”--here he +made a rapid sketch in his note-book, and wrote in the intervals in +inches--“we have the means of swearing to the identity of a vehicle +which we have never seen.” + +“And which,” I added, “had for some reason swerved over to the wrong +side of the road. Yes, I should say that tyre is certainly unique. But +surely most tyres are identifiable when they have been in use for some +time.” + +“Exactly,” he replied. “That was my point. The standardized thing is +devoid of character only when it is new.” + +It was not a very subtle point, and as it was fairly obvious I made no +comment, but presently reverted to the case of Pedley deceased. + +“I don’t quite see why you are taking all this trouble. The insurance +claim is not likely to be contested. No one can prove that it was a +case of suicide, though I should think no one will feel any doubt that +it was, at least that is my own feeling.” + +Thorndyke looked at me with an expression of reproach. + +“I am afraid that my learned friend has not been making very good use +of his eyes,” said he. “He has allowed his attention to be distracted +by superficial appearances.” + +“You don’t think that it was suicide, then?” I asked, considerably +taken aback. + +“It isn’t a question of thinking,” he replied. “It was certainly not +suicide. There are the plainest indications of homicide; and, of +course, in the particular circumstances, homicide means murder.” + +I was thunderstruck. In my own mind I had dismissed the case somewhat +contemptuously as a mere commonplace suicide. As my friend had truly +said, I had accepted the obvious appearances and let them mislead me, +whereas Thorndyke had followed his golden rule of accepting nothing +and observing everything. But what was it that he had observed? I knew +that it was useless to ask, but still I ventured on a tentative +question. + +“When did you come to the conclusion that it was a case of homicide?” + +“As soon as I had had a good look at the place where the body was +found,” he replied promptly. + +This did not help me much, for I had given very little attention to +anything but the search for the keys. The absence of those keys was, +of course, a suspicious fact, if it was a fact. But we had not proved +their absence; we had only failed to find them. + +“What do you propose to do next?” I asked. + +“Evidently,” he answered, “there are two things to be done. One is to +test the murder theory--to look for more evidence for or against it; +the other is to identify the murderer, if possible. But really the two +problems are one, since they involve the questions, Who had a motive +for killing Cyrus Pedley? and Who had the opportunity and the means?” + +Our discussion brought us to the station, where, outside the hotel, we +found Mr. Pedley waiting for us. + +“I am glad you have come,” said he. “I was beginning to fear that we +should lose this train. I suppose there is no new light on this +mysterious affair?” + +“No,” Thorndyke replied. “Rather there is a new problem. No keys were +found in your brother’s pockets, and we have failed to find them in +the ditch; though, of course, they may be there.” + +“They must be,” said Pedley. “They must have fallen out of his pocket +and got buried in the mud, unless he lost them previously, which is +most unlikely. It is a pity, though. We shall have to break open his +cabinets and drawers, which he would have hated. He was very +fastidious about his furniture.” + +“You will have to break into his flat, too,” said I. + +“No,” he replied, “I shan’t have to do that. I have a duplicate of his +latch-key. He had a spare bedroom which he let me use if I wanted to +stay in town.” As he spoke, he produced his key-bunch and exhibited a +small Chubb latch-key. “I wish we had the others, though,” he added. + +Here the up-train was heard approaching and we hurried on to the +platform, selecting an empty first-class compartment as it drew up. As +soon as the train had started, Thorndyke began his inquiries, to which +I listened attentively. + +“You said that your brother had been anxious and depressed lately. Was +there anything more than this? Any nervousness or foreboding?” + +“Well, yes,” replied Pedley. “Looking back, I seem to see that the +possibility of death was in his mind. A week or two ago he brought his +will to me to see if it was quite satisfactory to me as the principal +beneficiary; and he handed to me his last receipt for the insurance +premium. That looks a little suggestive.” + +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed. “And as to his occupation and his +associates, what do you know about them?” + +“His private friends are mostly my own, but of his official associates +I know nothing. He was connected with the Foreign Office; but in what +capacity I don’t know at all. He was extremely reticent on the +subject. I only know that he travelled about a good deal, presumably +on official business.” + +This was not very illuminating, but it was all our client had to tell; +and the conversation languished somewhat until the train drew up at +Marylebone, when Thorndyke said, as if by an after-thought: + +“You have your brother’s latch-key. How would it be if we just took a +glance at the flat? Have you time now?” + +“I will make time,” was the reply, “if you want to see the flat. I +don’t see what you could learn from inspecting it; but that is your +affair. I am in your hands.” + +“I should like to look round the rooms,” Thorndyke answered; and as +our client assented, we approached a taxi-cab and entered while Pedley +gave the driver the necessary directions. A quarter of an hour later +we drew up opposite a tall block of buildings, and Mr. Pedley, having +paid off the cab, led the way to the lift. + +The dead man’s flat was on the third floor, and, like the others, was +distinguished only by the number on the door. Mr. Pedley inserted the +key into the latch, and having opened the door, preceded us across the +small lobby into the sitting-room. + +“Ha!” he exclaimed, as he entered, “this solves your problem.” As he +spoke, he pointed to the table, on which lay a small bunch of keys, +including a latch-key similar to the one that he had shown us. + +“But,” he continued, “it is rather extraordinary. It just shows what a +very disturbed state his mind must have been in.” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, looking critically about the room; “and as +the latch-key is there, it raises the question whether the keys may +have been out of his possession. Do you know what the various locked +receptacles contain?” + +“I know pretty well what is in the bureau; but as to the cupboard +above it, I have never seen it open and don’t know what he kept in it. +I always assumed that he reserved it for his official papers. I will +just see if anything seems to have been disturbed.” + +He unlocked and opened the flap of the old-fashioned bureau and pulled +out the small drawers one after the other, examining the contents of +each. Then he opened each of the larger drawers and turned over the +various articles in them. As he closed the last one, he reported: +“Everything seems to be in order--cheque-book, insurance policy, a few +share certificates, and so on. Nothing seems to have been touched. Now +we will try the cupboard, though I don’t suppose its contents would be +of much interest to anyone but himself. I wonder which is the key.” + +He looked at the keyhole and made a selection from the bunch, but it +was evidently the wrong key. He tried another and yet another with a +like result, until he had exhausted the resources of the bunch. + +“It is very remarkable,” he said. “None of these keys seems to fit. I +wonder if he kept this particular key locked up or hidden. It wasn’t +in the bureau. Will you try what you can do?” + +He handed the bunch to Thorndyke, who tried all the keys in succession +with the same result. None of them was the key belonging to the lock. +At length, having tried them all, he inserted one and turned it as far +as it would go. Then he gave a sharp pull; and immediately the door +came open. + +“Why, it was unlocked after all!” exclaimed Mr. Pedley. “And there is +nothing in it. That is why there was no key on the bunch. Apparently +he didn’t use the cupboard.” + +Thorndyke looked critically at the single vacant shelf, drawing his +finger along it in two places and inspecting his finger-tips. Then he +turned his attention to the lock, which was of the kind that is +screwed on the inside of the door, leaving the bolt partly exposed. He +took the bolt in his fingers and pushed it out and then in again; and +by the way it moved I could see that the spring was broken. On this he +made no comment, but remarked: + +“The cupboard has been in use pretty lately. You can see the trace of +a largish volume--possibly a box-file--on the shelf. There is hardly +any dust there, whereas the rest of the shelf is fairly thickly +coated. However, that does not carry us very far; and the appearance +of the rooms is otherwise quite normal.” + +“Quite,” agreed Pedley. “But why shouldn’t it be? You didn’t +suspect----” + +“I was merely testing the suggestion offered by the absence of the +keys,” said Thorndyke. “By the way, have you communicated with the +Foreign Office?” + +“No,” was the reply, “but I suppose I ought to. What had I better say +to them?” + +“I should merely state the facts in the first instance. But you can, +if you like, say that I definitely reject the idea of suicide.” + +“I am glad to hear you say that,” said Pedley. “Can I give any reasons +for your opinion?” + +“Not in the first place,” replied Thorndyke. “I will consider the case +and let you have a reasoned report in a day or two, which you can show +to the Foreign Office and also to the insurance company.” + +Mr. Pedley looked as if he would have liked to ask some further +questions, but as Thorndyke now made his way to the door, he followed +in silence, pocketing the keys as we went out. He accompanied us down +to the entry and there we left him, setting forth in the direction of +South Kensington Station. + +“It looked to me,” said I, as soon as we were out of ear-shot, “as if +that lock had been forced. What do you think?” + +“Well,” he answered, “locks get broken in ordinary use, but taking all +the facts together, I think you are right. There are too many +coincidences for reasonable probability. First, this man leaves his +keys, including his latch-key, on the table, which is an extraordinary +thing to do. On that very occasion, he is found dead under +inexplicable circumstances. Then, of all the locks in his rooms, the +one which happens to be broken is the one of which the key is not on +the bunch. That is a very suspicious group of facts.” + +“It is,” I agreed. “And if there is, as you say--though I can’t +imagine on what grounds--evidence of foul play, that makes it still +more suspicious. But what is the next move? Have you anything in +view?” + +“The next move,” he replied, “is to clear up the mystery of the dead +man’s movements on the day of his death. The railway receipt shows +that on that day he travelled down somewhere into Essex. From that +place, he took a long, cross-country journey of which the destination +was a ditch by a lonely meadow in Buckinghamshire. The questions that +we have to answer are, What was he doing in Essex? Why did he make +that strange journey? Did he make it alone? and, if not, Who +accompanied him? + +“Now, obviously, the first thing to do is to locate that place in +Essex; and when we have done that, to go down there and see if we can +pick up any traces of the dead man.” + +“That sounds like a pretty vague quest,” said I; “but if we fail, the +police may be able to find out something. By the way, we want a new +_Bradshaw_.” + +“An excellent suggestion, Jervis,” said he. “I will get one as we go +into the station.” + +A few minutes later, as we sat on a bench waiting for our train, he +passed to me the open copy of _Bradshaw_, with the crumpled railway +receipt. + +“You see,” said he, “it was apparently ‘G.B.Hlt.’ and the fare from +London was four and ninepence. Here is Great Buntingfield Halt, the +fare to which is four and ninepence. That must be the place. At any +rate, we will give it a trial. May I take it that you are coming to +lend a hand? I shall start in good time to-morrow morning.” + +I assented emphatically. Never had I been more completely in the dark +than I was in this case, and seldom had I known Thorndyke to be more +positive and confident. Obviously, he had something up his sleeve; and +I was racked with curiosity as to what that something was. + + +On the following morning we made a fairly early start, and half-past +ten found us seated in the train, looking out across a dreary waste of +marshes, with the estuary of the Thames a mile or so distant. For the +first time in my recollection Thorndyke had come unprovided with his +inevitable “research case,” but I noted that he had furnished himself +with a botanist’s vasculum--or tin collecting-case--and that his +pocket bulged as if he had some other appliances concealed about his +person. Also that he carried a walking-stick that was strange to me. + +“This will be our destination, I think,” he said, as the train slowed +down; and sure enough it presently came to rest beside a little +makeshift platform on which was displayed the name “Great Buntingfield +Halt.” We were the only passengers to alight, and the guard, having +noted the fact, blew his whistle and dismissed the little station with +a contemptuous wave of his flag. + +Thorndyke lingered on the platform after the train had gone, taking a +general survey of the country. Half a mile away to the north a small +village was visible; while to the south the marshes stretched away to +the river, their bare expanse unbroken save by a solitary building +whose unredeemed hideousness proclaimed it a factory of some kind. +Presently the station-master approached deferentially, and as we +proffered our tickets, Thorndyke remarked: + +“You don’t seem overburdened with traffic here.” + +“No, sir. You’re right,” was the emphatic reply. “’Tis a dead-alive +place. Excepting the people at the Golomite Works and one now and then +from the village, no one uses the halt. You’re the first strangers +I’ve seen for more than a month.” + +“Indeed,” said Thorndyke. “But I think you are forgetting one. An +acquaintance of mine came here last Tuesday--and by the same token, he +hadn’t got a ticket and had to pay his fare.” + +“Oh, I remember,” the station-master replied. “You mean a gentleman +with a scar on his cheek. But I don’t count him as a stranger. He has +been here before; I think he is connected with the works, as he always +goes up their road.” + +“Do you happen to remember what time he came back?” Thorndyke asked. + +“He didn’t come back at all,” was the reply. “I am sure of that, +because I work the halt and level crossing by myself. I remember +thinking it queer that he didn’t come back, because the ticket that he +had lost was a return. He must have gone back in the van belonging to +the works--that one that you see coming towards the crossing.” + +As he spoke, he pointed to a van that was approaching down the factory +road--a small covered van with the name “Golomite Works” painted, not +on the cover, but on a board that was attached to it. The +station-master walked towards the crossing to open the gates, and we +followed; and when the van had passed, Thorndyke wished our friend +“Good morning,” and led the way along the road, looking about him with +lively interest and rather with the air of one looking for something +in particular. + +We had covered about two-thirds of the distance to the factory when +the road approached a wide ditch; and from the attention with which my +friend regarded it, I suspected that this was the something for which +he had been looking. It was, however, quite unapproachable, for it was +bordered by a wide expanse of soft mud thickly covered with rushes and +trodden deeply by cattle. Nevertheless, Thorndyke followed its margin, +still looking about him keenly, until, about a couple of hundred yards +from the factory, I observed a small decayed wooden staging or quay, +apparently the remains of a vanished footbridge. Here Thorndyke +halted, and unbuttoning his coat, began to empty out his pockets, +producing first the vasculum, then a small case containing three +wide-mouthed bottles--both of which he deposited on the ground--and +finally a sort of miniature landing-net, which he proceeded to screw +on to the ferrule of his stick. + +“I take it,” said I, “that these proceedings are a blind to cover some +sort of observations.” + +“Not at all,” he replied. “We are engaged in the study of pond and +ditch natural history, and a most fascinating and instructive study it +is. The variety of forms is endless. This ditch, you observe, like the +one at Bantree, is covered with a dense growth of duck-weed: but +whereas that ditch was swarming with succineæ, here there is not a +single succinea to be seen.” + +I grunted a sulky assent, and watched suspiciously as he filled the +bottles with water from the ditch and then made a preliminary sweep +with his net. + +“Here is a trial sample,” said he, holding the loaded net towards me. +“Duck-weed, horn-weed, Planorbis nautileus, but no succineæ. What do +you think of it, Jervis?” + +I looked distastefully at the repulsive mess, but yet with attention, +for I realized that there was a meaning in his question. And then, +suddenly, my attention sharpened. I picked out of the net a strand of +dark green, plumy weed and examined it. + +“So this is horn-weed,” I said. “Then it was a piece of horn-weed that +Cyrus Pedley held grasped in his hand; and now I come to think of it, +I don’t remember seeing any horn-weed in the ditch at Bantree.” + +He nodded approvingly. “There wasn’t any,” said he. + +“And these little ammonite-like shells are just like those that I +noticed at the bottom of Dr. Parton’s jar. But I don’t remember seeing +any in the Bantree ditch.” + +“There were none there,” said he. “And the duck-weed?” + +“Oh, well,” I replied, “duck-weed is duck-weed, and there’s an end of +it.” + +He chuckled aloud at my answer, and quoting: + + + “_A primrose by the river’s brim_ + _A yellow primrose was to him_,” + + +bestowed a part of the catch in the vasculum, then turned once more to +the ditch and began to ply his net vigorously, emptying out each +netful on the grass, looking it over quickly and then making a fresh +sweep, dragging the net each time through the mud at the bottom. I +watched him now with a new and very lively interest; for enlightenment +was dawning, mingled with some self-contempt and much speculation as +to how Thorndyke had got his start in this case. + +But I was not the only interested watcher. At one of the windows of +the factory I presently observed a man who seemed to be looking our +way. After a few seconds’ inspection he disappeared, to reappear +almost immediately with a pair of field-glasses, through which he took +a long look at us. Then he disappeared again, but in less than a +minute I saw him emerge from a side door and advance hurriedly towards +us. + +“We are going to have a notice of ejectment served on us, I fancy,” +said I. + +Thorndyke glanced quickly at the approaching stranger but continued to +ply his net, working, as I noticed, methodically from left to right. +When the man came within fifty yards he hailed us with a brusque +inquiry as to what our business was. I went forward to meet him and, +if possible, to detain him in conversation; but this plan failed, for +he ignored me and bore straight down on Thorndyke. + +“Now, then,” said he, “what’s the game? What are you doing here?” + +Thorndyke was in the act of raising his net from the water, but he now +suddenly let it fall to the bottom of the ditch while he turned to +confront the stranger. + +“I take it that you have some reason for asking,” said he. + +“Yes, I have,” the other replied angrily and with a slight foreign +accent that agreed with his appearance--he looked like a Slav of some +sort. “This is private land. It belongs to the factory. I am the +manager.” + +“The land is not enclosed,” Thorndyke remarked. + +“I tell you the land is private land,” the fellow retorted excitedly. +“You have no business here. I want to know what you are doing.” + +“My good sir,” said Thorndyke, “there is no need to excite yourself. +My friend and I are just collecting botanical and other specimens.” + +“How do I know that?” the manager demanded. He looked round +suspiciously and his eye lighted on the vasculum. “What have you got +in that thing?” he asked. + +“Let him see what is in it,” said Thorndyke, with a significant look +at me. + +Interpreting this as an instruction to occupy the man’s attention for +a few moments, I picked up the vasculum and placed myself so that he +must turn his back to Thorndyke to look into it. I fumbled awhile with +the catch, but at length opened the case and began to pick out the +weed strand by strand. As soon as the stranger’s back was turned +Thorndyke raised his net and quickly picked out of it something which +he slipped into his pocket. Then he advanced towards us, sorting out +the contents of his net as he came. + +“Well,” he said, “you see we are just harmless naturalists. By the +way, what did you think we were looking for?” + +“Never mind what I thought,” the other replied fiercely. “This is +private land. You have no business here, and you have got to clear +out.” + +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “As you please. There are plenty of other +ditches.” He took the vasculum and the case of bottles, and having put +them in his pocket, unscrewed his net, wished the stranger “Good +morning,” and turned back towards the station. The man stood watching +us until we were near the level crossing, when he, too, turned back +and retired to the factory. + +“I saw you take something out of the net,” said I. “What was it?” + +He glanced back to make sure that the manager was out of sight. Then +he put his hand in his pocket, drew it out closed, and suddenly opened +it. In his palm lay a small gold dental plate with four teeth on it. + +“My word!” I exclaimed; “this clenches the matter with a vengeance. +That is certainly Cyrus Pedley’s plate. It corresponds exactly to the +description.” + +“Yes,” he replied, “it is practically a certainty. Of course, it will +have to be identified by the dentist who made it. But it is a foregone +conclusion.” + +I reflected as we walked towards the station on the singular sureness +with which Thorndyke had followed what was to me an invisible trail. +Presently I said: + +“What is puzzling me is how you got your start in this case. What gave +you the first hint that it was homicide and not suicide or +misadventure?” + +“It was the old story, Jervis,” he replied; “just a matter of +observing and remembering apparently trivial details. Here, by the +way, is a case in point.” + +He stopped and looked down at a set of tracks in the soft, earth +road--apparently those of the van which we had seen cross the line. I +followed the direction of his glance and saw the clear impression of a +Blakey’s protector, preceded by that of a gash in the tyre and +followed by that of a projecting lump. + +“But this is astounding!” I exclaimed. “It is almost certainly the +same track that we saw in Ponder’s Road.” + +“Yes,” he agreed. “I noticed it as we came along.” He brought out his +spring-tape and note-book, and handing the latter to me, stooped and +measured the distances between the three impressions. I wrote them +down as he called them out, and then we compared them with the note +made in Ponder’s Road. The measurements were identical, as were the +relative positions of the impressions. + +“This is an important piece of evidence,” said he. “I wish we were +able to take casts, but the notes will be pretty conclusive. And now,” +he continued as we resumed our progress towards the station, “to +return to your question. Parton’s evidence at the inquest proved that +Cyrus Pedley was drowned in water which contained duck-weed. He +produced a specimen and we both saw it. We saw the duck-weed in it and +also two Planorbis shells. The presence of those two shells proved +that the water in which he was drowned must have swarmed with them. We +saw the body, and observed that one hand grasped a wisp of horn-weed. +Then we went to view the ditch and we examined it. That was when I +got, not a mere hint, but a crucial and conclusive fact. The ditch was +covered with duck-weed, as we expected. _But it was the wrong +duck-weed._” + +“The wrong duck-weed!” I exclaimed. “Why, how many kinds of duck-weed +are there?” + +“There are four British species,” he replied. “The Greater Duck-weed, +the Lesser Duck-weed, the Thick Duck-weed, and the Ivy-leaved +Duck-weed. Now the specimens in Parton’s jar I noticed were the +Greater Duck-weed, which is easily distinguished by its roots, which +are multiple and form a sort of tassel. But the duck-weed on the +Bantree ditch was the Lesser Duck-weed, which is smaller than the +other, but is especially distinguished by having only a single root. +It is impossible to mistake one for the other. + +“Here, then, was practically conclusive evidence of murder. Cyrus +Pedley had been drowned in a pond or ditch. But not in the ditch in +which his body was found. Therefore his dead body had been conveyed +from some other place and put into this ditch. Such a proceeding +furnishes _prima facie_ evidence of murder. But as soon as the +question was raised, there was an abundance of confirmatory evidence. +There was no horn-weed or Planorbis shells in the ditch, but there +were swarms of succineæ, some of which would inevitably have been +swallowed with the water. There was an obscure linear pressure mark on +the arm of the dead man, just above the elbow: such a mark as might be +made by a cord if a man were pinioned to render him helpless. Then the +body would have had to be conveyed to this place in some kind of +vehicle; and we found the traces of what appeared to be a motor-van, +which had approached the cart-track on the wrong side of the road, as +if to pull up there. It was a very conclusive mass of evidence; but it +would have been useless but for the extraordinarily lucky chance that +poor Pedley had lost his railway ticket and preserved the receipt; by +which we were able to ascertain where he was on the day of his death +and in what locality the murder was probably committed. But that is +not the only way in which Fortune has favoured us. The +station-master’s information was, and will be, invaluable. Then it was +most fortunate for us that there was only one ditch on the factory +land; and that that ditch was accessible at only one point, which must +have been the place where Pedley was drowned.” + +“The duck-weed in this ditch is, of course, the Greater Duck-weed?” + +“Yes. I have taken some specimens as well as the horn-weed and +shells.” + +He opened the vasculum and picked out one of the tiny plants, +exhibiting the characteristic tassel of roots. + +“I shall write to Parton and tell him to preserve the jar and the +horn-weed if it has not been thrown away. But the duck-weed alone, +produced in evidence, would be proof enough that Pedley was not +drowned in the Bantree ditch; and the dental plate will show where he +was drowned.” + +“Are you going to pursue the case any farther?” I asked. + +“No,” he replied. “I shall call at Scotland Yard on my way home and +report what I have learned and what I can prove in court. Then I shall +have finished with the case. The rest is for the police, and I imagine +they won’t have much difficulty. The circumstances seem to tell their +own story. Pedley was employed by the Foreign Office, probably on some +kind of secret service. I imagine that he discovered the existence of +a gang of evil-doers--probably foreign revolutionaries, of whom we may +assume that our friend the manager of the factory is one; that he +contrived to associate himself with them and to visit the factory +occasionally to ascertain what was made there besides Golomite--if +Golomite is not itself an illicit product. Then I assume that he was +discovered to be a spy, that he was lured down here; that he was +pinioned and drowned some time on Tuesday night and his body put into +the van and conveyed to a place miles away from the scene of his +death, where it was deposited in a ditch apparently identical in +character with that in which he was drowned. It was an extremely +ingenious and well-thought-out plan. It seemed to have provided for +every kind of inquiry, and it very narrowly missed being successful.” + +“Yes,” I agreed. “But it didn’t provide for Dr. John Thorndyke.” + +“It didn’t provide for a searching examination of all the details,” he +replied; “and no criminal plan that I have ever met has done so. The +completeness of the scheme is limited by the knowledge of the +schemers, and, in practice, there is always something overlooked. In +this case, the criminals were unlearned in the natural history of +ditches.” + + +Thorndyke’s theory of the crime turned out to be substantially +correct. The Golomite Works proved to be a factory where high +explosives were made by a gang of cosmopolitan revolutionaries who +were all known to the police. But the work of the latter was +simplified by a detailed report which the dead man had deposited at +his bank and which was discovered in time to enable the police to raid +the factory and secure the whole gang. When once they were under lock +and key, further information was forthcoming; for a charge of murder +against them jointly soon produced King’s Evidence sufficient to +procure a conviction of the three actual perpetrators of the murder. + + + + + V. + MR. PONTING’S ALIBI + +Thorndyke looked doubtfully at the pleasant-faced, athletic-looking +clergyman who had just come in, bearing Mr. Brodribb’s card as an +explanatory credential. + +“I don’t quite see,” said he, “why Mr. Brodribb sent you to me. It +seems to be a purely legal matter which he could have dealt with +himself, at least as well as I can.” + +“He appeared to think otherwise,” said the clergyman. (“The Revd. +Charles Meade” was written on the card.) “At any rate,” he added with +a persuasive smile, “here I am, and I hope you are not going to send +me away.” + +“I shouldn’t offer that affront to my old friend Brodribb,” replied +Thorndyke, smiling in return; “so we may as well get to business, +which, in the first place, involves the setting out of all the +particulars. Let us begin with the lady who is the subject of the +threats of which you spoke.” + +“Her name,” said Mr. Meade, “is Miss Millicent Fawcett. She is a +person of independent means, which she employs in works of charity. +She was formerly a hospital sister, and she does a certain amount of +voluntary work in the parish as a sort of district nurse. She has been +a very valuable help to me and we have been close friends for several +years; and I may add, as a very material fact, that she has consented +to marry me in about two months’ time. So that, you see, I am properly +entitled to act on her behalf.” + +“Yes,” agreed Thorndyke. “You are an interested party. And now, as to +the threats. What do they amount to?” + +“That,” replied Meade, “I can’t tell you. I gathered quite by chance +from some words that she dropped, that she had been threatened. But +she was unwilling to say more on the subject, as she did not take the +matter seriously. She is not at all nervous. However, I told her I was +taking advice; and I hope you will be able to extract more details +from her. For my own part, I am decidedly uneasy.” + +“And as to the person or persons who have uttered the threats. Who are +they? and out of what circumstances have the threats arisen?” + +“The person is a certain William Ponting, who is Miss Fawcett’s +step-brother--if that is the right term. Her father married, as his +second wife, a Mrs. Ponting, a widow with one son. This is the son. +His mother died before Mr. Fawcett, and the latter, when he died, left +his daughter, Millicent, sole heir to his property. That has always +been a grievance to Ponting. But now he has another. Miss Fawcett made +a will some years ago by which the bulk of her rather considerable +property is left to two cousins, Frederick and James Barnett, the sons +of her father’s sister. A comparatively small amount goes to Ponting. +When he heard this he was furious. He demanded a portion at least +equal to the others, and has continued to make this demand from time +to time. In fact, he has been extremely troublesome, and appears to be +getting still more so. I gathered that the threats were due to her +refusal to alter the will.” + +“But,” said I, “doesn’t he realize that her marriage will render that +will null and void?” + +“Apparently not,” replied Meade; “nor, to tell the truth, did I +realize it myself. Will she have to make a new will?” + +“Certainly,” I replied. “And as that new will may be expected to be +still less favourable to him, that will presumably be a further +grievance.” + +“One doesn’t understand,” said Thorndyke, “why he should excite +himself so much about her will. What are their respective ages?” + +“Miss Fawcett is thirty-six and Ponting is about forty.” + +“And what kind of man is he?” Thorndyke asked. + +“A very unpleasant kind of man, I am sorry to say. Morose, rude, and +violent-tempered. A spendthrift and a cadger. He has had quite a lot +of money from Miss Fawcett--loans, which, of course, are never repaid. +And he is none too industrious, though he has a regular job on the +staff of a weekly paper. But he seems to be always in debt.” + +“We may as well note his address,” said Thorndyke. + +“He lives in a small flat in Bloomsbury--alone, now, since he +quarrelled with the man who used to share it with him. The address is +12 Borneo House, Devonshire Street.” + +“What sort of terms is he on with the cousins, his rivals?” + +“No sort of terms now,” replied Meade. “They used to be great friends. +So much so that he took his present flat to be near them--they live in +the adjoining flat, number 12 Sumatra House. But since the trouble +about the will, he is hardly on speaking terms with them.” + +“They live together, then?” + +“Yes, Frederick and his wife and James, who is unmarried. They are +rather a queer lot, too. Frederick is a singer on the variety stage, +and James accompanies him on various instruments. But they are both +sporting characters of a kind, especially James, who does a bit on the +turf and engages in other odd activities. Of course, their musical +habits are a grievance to Ponting. He is constantly making complaints +of their disturbing him at his work.” + +Mr. Meade paused and looked wistfully at Thorndyke, who was making +full notes of the conversation. + +“Well,” said the latter, “we seem to have got all the facts excepting +the most important--the nature of the threats. What do you want us to +do?” + +“I want you to see Miss Fawcett--with me, if possible--and induce her +to give you such details as would enable you to put a stop to the +nuisance. You couldn’t come to-night, I suppose? It is a beast of a +night, but I would take you there in a taxi--it is only to Tooting +Bec. What do you say?” he added eagerly, as Thorndyke made no +objection. “We are sure to find her in, because her maid is away on a +visit to her home and she is alone in the house.” + +Thorndyke looked reflectively at his watch. + +“Half-past eight,” he remarked, “and half an hour to get there. These +threats are probably nothing but ill-temper. But we don’t know. There +may be something more serious behind them; and, in law as in medicine, +prevention is better than a post-mortem. What do you say, Jervis?” + +What could I say? I would much sooner have sat by the fire with a book +than turn out into the murk of a November night. But I felt it +necessary, especially as Thorndyke had evidently made up his mind. +Accordingly I made a virtue of necessity; and a couple of minutes +later we had exchanged the cosy room for the chilly darkness of Inner +Temple Lane, up which the gratified parson was speeding ahead to +capture a taxi. At the top of the Lane we perceived him giving +elaborate instructions to a taxi-driver as he held the door of the cab +open; and Thorndyke, having carefully disposed of his +research-case--which, to my secret amusement, he had caught up, from +mere force of habit, as we started--took his seat, and Meade and I +followed. + +As the taxi trundled smoothly along the dark streets, Mr. Meade filled +in the details of his previous sketch, and, in a simple, manly, +unaffected way dilated upon his good fortune and the pleasant future +that lay before him. It was not, perhaps, a romantic marriage, he +admitted; but Miss Fawcett and he had been faithful friends for years, +and faithful friends they would remain till death did them part. So he +ran on, now gleefully, now with a note of anxiety, and we listened by +no means unsympathetically, until at last the cab drew up at a small, +unpretentious house, standing in its own little grounds in a quiet +suburban road. + +“She is at home, you see,” observed Meade, pointing to a lighted +ground-floor window. He directed the taxi-driver to wait for the +return journey, and striding up the path, delivered a characteristic +knock at the door. As this brought no response, he knocked again and +rang the bell. But still there was no answer, though twice I thought I +heard the sound of a bolt being either drawn or shot softly. Again Mr. +Meade plied the knocker more vigorously, and pressed the push of the +bell, which we could hear ringing loudly within. + +“This is very strange,” said Meade, in an anxious tone, keeping his +thumb pressed on the bell-push. “She can’t have gone out and left the +electric light on. What had we better do?” + +“We had better enter without more delay,” Thorndyke replied. “There +were certainly sounds from within. Is there a side gate?” + +Meade ran off towards the side of the house, and Thorndyke and I +glanced at the lighted window, which was slightly open at the top. + +“Looks a bit queer,” I remarked, listening at the letter-box. + +Thorndyke assented gravely, and at this moment Meade returned, +breathing hard. + +“The side gate is bolted inside,” said he; and at this I recalled the +stealthy sound of the bolt that I had heard. “What is to be done?” + +Without replying, Thorndyke handed me his research-case, stepped +across to the window, sprang up on the sill, drew down the upper sash +and disappeared between the curtains into the room. A moment later the +street door opened and Meade and I entered the hall. We glanced +through the open doorway into the lighted room, and I noticed a heap +of needlework thrown hastily on the dining table. Then Meade switched +on the hall light, and Thorndyke walked quickly past him to the +half-open door of the next room. Before entering, he reached in and +switched on the light; and as he stepped into the room he partly +closed the door behind him. + +“Don’t come in here, Meade!” he called out. But the parson’s eye, like +my own, had seen something before the door closed: a great, dark stain +on the carpet just within the threshold. Regardless of the admonition, +he pushed the door open and darted into the room. Following him, I saw +him rush forward, fling his arms up wildly, and with a dreadful, +strangled cry, sink upon his knees beside a low couch on which a woman +was lying. + +“Merciful God!” he gasped. “She is dead! Is she dead, doctor? Can +nothing be done?” + +Thorndyke shook his head. “Nothing,” he said in a low voice. “She is +dead.” + +Poor Meade knelt by the couch, his hands clutching at his hair and his +eyes riveted on the dead face, the very embodiment of horror and +despair. + +“God Almighty!” he exclaimed in the same strangled undertone. “How +frightful! Poor, poor Millie! Dear, sweet friend!” Then +suddenly--almost savagely--he turned to Thorndyke. “But it can’t be, +doctor! It is impossible--unbelievable. That, I mean!” and he pointed +to the dead woman’s right hand, which held an open razor. + +Our poor friend had spoken my own thought. It was incredible that this +refined, pious lady should have inflicted those savage wounds that +gaped scarlet beneath the waxen face. There, indeed, was the razor +lying in her hand. But what was its testimony worth? My heart rejected +it; but yet, unwillingly, I noted that the wounds seemed to support +it; for they had been made from left to right, as they would have been +if self-inflicted. + +“It is hard to believe,” said Thorndyke, “but there is only one +alternative. Someone should acquaint the police at once.” + +“I will go,” exclaimed Meade, starting up. “I know the way and the cab +is there.” He looked once more with infinite pity and affection at the +dead woman. “Poor, sweet girl!” he murmured. “If we can do no more for +you, we can defend your memory from calumny and call upon the God of +Justice to right the innocent and punish the guilty.” + +With these words and a mute farewell to his dead friend, he hurried +from the room, and immediately afterwards we heard the street door +close. + +As he went out, Thorndyke’s manner changed abruptly. He had been +deeply moved--as who would not have been--by this awful tragedy that +had in a moment shattered the happiness of the genial, kindly parson. +Now he turned to me with a face set and stern. + +“This is an abominable affair, Jervis,” he said in an ominously quiet +voice. + +“You reject the suggestion of suicide, then?” said I, with a feeling +of relief that surprised me. + +“Absolutely,” he replied. “Murder shouts at us from everything that +meets our eye. Look at this poor woman, in her trim nurse’s dress, +with her unfinished needlework lying on the table in the next room and +that preposterous razor loose in her limp hand. Look at the savage +wounds. Four of them, and the first one mortal. The great bloodstain +by the door, the great blood-stain on her dress from the neck to the +feet. The gashed collar, the cap-string cut right through. Note that +the bleeding had practically ceased when she lay down. That is a group +of visible facts that is utterly inconsistent with the idea of +suicide. But we are wasting time. Let us search the premises +thoroughly. The murderer has pretty certainly got away, but as he was +in the house when we arrived, any traces will be quite fresh.” + +As he spoke he took his electric lamp from the research-case and +walked to the door. + +“We can examine this room later,” he said, “but we had better look +over the house. If you will stay by the stairs and watch the front and +back doors, I will look through the upper rooms.” + +He ran lightly up the stairs while I kept watch below, but he was +absent less than a couple of minutes. + +“There is no one there,” he reported, “and as there is no basement we +will just look at this floor and then examine the grounds.” + +After a rapid inspection of the ground-floor rooms, including the +kitchen, we went out by the back door, which was unbolted, and +inspected the grounds. These consisted of a largish garden with a +small orchard at the side. In the former we could discover no traces +of any kind, but at the end of the path that crossed the orchard we +came on a possible clue. The orchard was enclosed by a five-foot +fence, the top of which bristled with hooked nails; and at the point +opposite to the path, Thorndyke’s lantern brought into view one or two +wisps of cloth caught on the hooks. + +“Someone has been over here,” said Thorndyke, “but as this is an +orchard, there is nothing remarkable in the fact. However, there is no +fruit on the trees now, and the cloth looks fairly fresh. There are +two kinds, you notice: a dark blue and a black and white mixture of +some kind.” + +“Corresponding, probably, to the coat and trousers,” I suggested. + +“Possibly,” he agreed, taking from his pocket a couple of the little +seed-envelopes of which he always carried a supply. Very delicately he +picked the tiny wisps of cloth from the hooks and bestowed each kind +in a separate envelope. Having pocketed these, he leaned over the +fence and threw the light of his lamp along the narrow lane or alley +that divided the orchard from the adjoining premises. It was +ungravelled and covered with a growth of rank grass, which suggested +that it was little frequented. But immediately below was a small patch +of bare earth, and on this was a very distinct impression of a foot, +covering several less distinct prints. + +“Several people have been over here at different times,” I remarked. + +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “But that sharp footprint belongs to the last +one over, and he is our concern. We had better not confuse the issues +by getting over ourselves. We will mark the spot and explore from the +other end.” He laid his handkerchief over the top of the fence and we +then went back to the house. + +“You are going to take a plaster cast, I suppose?” said I; and as he +assented, I fetched the research-case from the drawing-room. Then we +fixed the catch of the front-door latch and went out, drawing the door +to after us. + +We found the entrance to the alley about sixty yards from the gate, +and entering it, walked slowly forwards, scanning the ground as we +went. But the bright lamp-light showed nothing more than the vague +marks of trampling feet on the grass until we came to the spot marked +by the handkerchief on the fence. + +“It is a pity,” I remarked, “that this footprint has obliterated the +others.” + +“On the other hand,” he replied, “this one, which is the one that +interests us, is remarkably clear and characteristic: a circular heel +and a rubber sole of a recognizable pattern mended with a patch of +cement paste. It is a footprint that could be identified beyond a +doubt.” + +As he was speaking, he took from the research-case the water-bottle, +plaster-tin, rubber mixing-bowl and spoon, and a piece of canvas with +which to “reinforce” the cast. Rapidly, he mixed a bowlful--extra +thick, so that it should set quickly and hard--dipped the canvas into +it, poured the remainder into the footprint, and laid the canvas on +it. + +“I will get you to stay here, Jervis,” said he, “until the plaster has +set. I want to examine the body rather more thoroughly before the +police arrive, particularly the back.” + +“Why the back?” I asked. + +“Did not the appearance of the body suggest to you the advisability of +examining the back?” he asked, and then, without waiting for a reply, +he went off, leaving the inspection-lamp with me. + +His words gave me matter for profound thought during my short vigil. I +recalled the appearance of the dead woman very vividly--indeed, I am +not likely ever to forget it--and I strove to connect that appearance +with his desire to examine the back of the corpse. But there seemed to +be no connexion at all. The visible injuries were in front, and I had +seen nothing to suggest the existence of any others. From time to time +I tested the condition of the plaster, impatient to rejoin my +colleague but fearful of cracking the thin cast by raising it +prematurely. At length the plaster seemed to be hard enough, and +trusting to the strength of the canvas, I prised cautiously at the +edge, when, to my relief, the brittle plate came up safely and I +lifted it clear. Wrapping it carefully in some spare rag, I packed it +in the research-case, and then, taking this and the lantern, made my +way back to the house. + +When I had let down the catch and closed the front door, I went into +the drawing-room, where I found Thorndyke stooping over the dark stain +at the threshold and scanning the floor as if in search of something. +I reported the completion of the cast and then asked him what he was +looking for. + +“I am looking for a button,” he replied. “There is one missing from +the back; the one to which the collar was fastened.” + +“Is it of any importance?” I asked. + +“It is important to ascertain when and where it became detached,” he +replied. “Let us have the inspection-lamp.” + +I gave him the lamp, which he placed on the floor, turning it so that +its beam of light travelled along the surface. Stooping to follow the +light, I scrutinized the floor minutely but in vain. + +“It may not be here at all,” said I; but at that moment the bright +gleam, penetrating the darkness under a cabinet, struck a small object +close to the wall. In a moment I had thrown myself prone on the +carpet, and reaching under the cabinet, brought forth a largish +mother-of-pearl button. + +“You notice,” said Thorndyke, as he examined it, “that the cabinet is +near the window, at the opposite end of the room to the couch. But we +had better see that it is the right button.” + +He walked slowly towards the couch, still stooping and searching the +floor with the light. The corpse, I noticed, had been turned on its +side, exposing the back and the displaced collar. Through the strained +button-hole of the latter Thorndyke passed the button without +difficulty. + +“Yes,” he said, “that is where it came from. You will notice that +there is a similar one in front. By the way,” he continued, bringing +the lamp close to the surface of the grey serge dress, “I picked off +one or two hairs--animal hairs; cat and dog they looked like. Here are +one or two more. Will you hold the lamp while I take them off?” + +“They are probably from some pets of hers,” I remarked, as he picked +them off with his forceps and deposited them in one of the invaluable +seed-envelopes. “Spinsters are a good deal addicted to pets, +especially cats and dogs.” + +“Possibly,” he replied. “But I could see none in front, where you +would expect to find them, and there seem to be none on the carpet. +Now let us replace the body as we found it and just have a look at our +material before the police arrive. I expected them here before this.” + +We turned the body back into its original position, and taking the +research-case and the lamp, went into the dining-room. Here Thorndyke +rapidly set up the little travelling microscope, and bringing forth +the seed-envelopes, began to prepare slides from the contents of some +while I prepared the others. There was time only for a very hasty +examination, which Thorndyke made as soon as the specimens were +mounted. + +“The clothing,” he reported, with his eye at the microscope, “is +woollen in both cases. Fairly good quality. The one a blue serge, +apparently indigo dyed; the other a mixture of black and white, no +other colour. Probably a fine tabby or a small shepherd’s plaid.” + +“Serge coat and shepherd’s plaid trousers,” I suggested. “Now see what +the hairs are.” I handed him the slide, on which I had roughly mounted +the collection in oil of lavender, and he placed it on the stage. + +“There are three different kinds of hairs here,” he reported, after a +rapid inspection. “Some are obviously from a cat--a smoky Persian. +Others are long, rather fine tawny hairs from a dog. Probably a +Pekinese. But there are two that I can’t quite place. They look like +monkey’s hairs, but they are a very unusual colour. There is a +perceptible greenish tint, which is extremely uncommon in mammalian +hairs. But I hear the taxi approaching. We need not be expansive to +the local police as to what we have observed. This will probably be a +case for the C.I.D.” + +I went out into the hall and opened the door as Meade came up the +path, followed by two men; and as the latter came into the light, I +was astonished to recognize in one of them our old friend, +Detective-Superintendent Miller, the other being, apparently, the +station superintendent. + +“We have kept Mr. Meade a long time,” said Miller, “but we knew you +were here, so the time wouldn’t be wasted. Thought it best to get a +full statement before we inspected the premises. How do, doctor,” he +added, shaking hands with Thorndyke. “Glad to see you here. I suppose +you have got all the facts. I understood so from Mr. Meade.” + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke, “we have all the antecedents of the case, +and we arrived within a few minutes of the death of the deceased.” + +“Ha!” exclaimed Miller. “Did you? And I expect you have formed an +opinion on the question as to whether the injuries were +self-inflicted?” + +“I think,” said Thorndyke, “that it would be best to act on the +assumption that they were not--and to act promptly.” + +“Pre--cisely,” Miller agreed emphatically. “You mean that we had +better find out at once where a certain person was at--what time did +you arrive here?” + +“It was two minutes to nine when the taxi stopped,” replied Thorndyke; +“and, as it is now only twenty-five minutes to ten, we have good time +if Mr. Meade can spare us the taxi. I have the address.” + +“The taxi is waiting for you,” said Mr. Meade, “and the man has been +paid for both journeys. I shall stay here in case the superintendent +wants anything.” He shook our hands warmly, and as we bade him +farewell and noted the dazed, despairing expression and lines of grief +that had already eaten into the face that had been so blithe and +hopeful, we both thought bitterly of the few fatal minutes that had +made us too late to save the wreckage of his life. + +We were just turning away when Thorndyke paused and again faced the +clergyman. + +“Can you tell me,” he asked, “whether Miss Fawcett had any pets? Cats, +dogs, or other animals?” + +Meade looked at him in surprise, and Superintendent Miller seemed to +prick up his ears. But the former answered simply: “No. She was not +very fond of animals; she reserved her affections for men and women.” + +Thorndyke nodded gravely, and picking up the research-case walked +slowly out of the room, Miller and I following. + +As soon as the address had been given to the driver and we had taken +our seats in the taxi, the superintendent opened the +examination-in-chief. + +“I see you have got your box of magic with you, doctor,” he said, +cocking his eye at the research-case. “Any luck?” + +“We have secured a very distinctive footprint,” replied Thorndyke, +“but it may have no connexion with the case.” + +“I hope it has,” said Miller. “A good cast of a footprint which you +can let the jury compare with the boot is first-class evidence.” He +took the cast, which I had produced from the research-case, and +turning it over tenderly and gloatingly, exclaimed: “Beautiful! +beautiful! Absolutely distinctive! There can’t be another exactly like +it in the world. It is as good as a finger-print. For the Lord’s sake +take care of it. It means a conviction if we can find the boot.” + +The superintendent’s efforts to engage Thorndyke in discussion were +not very successful, and the conversational brunt was borne by me. For +we both knew my colleague too well to interrupt him if he was disposed +to be meditative. And such was now his disposition. Looking at him as +he sat in his corner, silent but obviously wrapped in thought, I knew +that he was mentally sorting out the data and testing the hypotheses +that they yielded. + +“Here we are,” said Miller, opening the door as the taxi stopped. “Now +what are we going to say? Shall I tell him who I am?” + +“I expect you will have to,” replied Thorndyke, “if you want him to +let us in.” + +“Very well,” said Miller. “But I shall let you do the talking, because +I don’t know what you have got up your sleeve.” + +Thorndyke’s prediction was verified literally. In response to the +third knock, with an obbligato accompaniment on the bell, wrathful +footsteps--I had no idea footsteps could be so expressive--advanced +rapidly along the lobby, the door was wrenched open--but only for a +few inches--and an angry, hairy face appeared in the opening. + +“Now then,” the hairy person demanded, “what the deuce do you want?” + +“Are you Mr. William Ponting?” the superintendent inquired. + +“What the devil is that to do with you?” was the genial answer--in the +Scottish mode. + +“We have business,” Miller began persuasively. + +“So have I,” the presumable Ponting replied, “and mine won’t wait.” + +“But our business is very important,” Miller urged. + +“So is mine,” snapped Ponting, and would have shut the door but for +Miller’s obstructing foot, at which he kicked viciously, but with +unsatisfactory results, as he was shod in light slippers, whereas the +superintendent’s boots were of constabulary solidity. + +“Now, look here,” said Miller, dropping his conciliatory manner very +completely, “you’d better stop this nonsense. I am a police officer, +and I am going to come in”; and with this he inserted a massive +shoulder and pushed the door open. + +“Police officer, are you?” said Ponting. “And what might your business +be with me?” + +“That is what I have been waiting to tell you,” said Miller. “But we +don’t want to do our talking here.” + +“Very well,” growled Ponting. “Come in. But understand that I am busy. +I’ve been interrupted enough this evening.” + +He led the way into a rather barely furnished room with a wide +bay-window in which was a table fitted with a writing-slope and +lighted by an electric standard lamp. A litter of manuscript explained +the nature of his business and his unwillingness to receive casual +visitors. He sulkily placed three chairs, and then, seating himself, +glowered at Thorndyke and me. + +“Are they police officers, too?” he demanded. + +“No,” replied Miller, “they are medical gentlemen. Perhaps you had +better explain the matter, doctor,” he added, addressing Thorndyke, +who thereupon opened the proceedings. + +“We have called,” said he, “to inform you that Miss Millicent Fawcett +died suddenly this evening.” + +“The devil!” exclaimed Ponting. “That’s sudden with a vengeance. What +time did this happen?” + +“About a quarter to nine.” + +“Extraordinary!” muttered Ponting. “I saw her only the day before +yesterday, and she seemed quite well then. What did she die of?” + +“The appearances,” replied Thorndyke, “suggest suicide.” + +“Suicide!” gasped Ponting. “Impossible! I can’t believe it. Do you +mean to tell me she poisoned herself?” + +“No,” said Thorndyke, “it was not poison. Death was caused by injuries +to the throat inflicted with a razor.” + +“Good God!” exclaimed Ponting. “What a horrible thing! But,” he added +after a pause, “I can’t believe she did it herself, and I don’t. Why +should she commit suicide? She was quite happy, and she was just going +to be married to that mealy-faced parson. And a razor, too! How do you +suppose she came by a razor? Women don’t shave. They smoke and drink +and swear, but they haven’t taken to shaving yet. I don’t believe it. +Do you?” + +He glared ferociously at the superintendent, who replied: + +“I am not sure that I do. There’s a good deal in what you’ve just +said, and the same objections had occurred to us. But, you see, if she +didn’t do it herself, someone else must have done it, and we should +like to find out who that someone is. So we begin by ascertaining +where any possible persons may have been at a quarter to nine this +evening.” + +Ponting smiled like an infuriated cat. + +“So you think me a possible person, do you?” said he. + +“Everyone is a possible person,” Miller replied blandly, “especially +when he is known to have uttered threats.” + +The reply sobered Ponting considerably. For a few moments he sat, +looking reflectively at the superintendent; then, in comparatively +quiet tones, he said: + +“I have been working here since six o’clock. You can see the stuff for +yourself, and I can prove that it has been written since six.” + +The superintendent nodded, but made no comment, and Ponting gazed at +him fixedly, evidently thinking hard. Suddenly he broke into a harsh +laugh. + +“What is the joke?” Miller inquired stolidly. + +“The joke is that I have got another alibi--a very complete one. There +are compensations in every evil. I told you I had been interrupted in +my work already this evening. It was those fools next door, the +Barnetts--cousins of mine. They are musicians, save the mark! Variety +stage, you know. Funny songs and jokes for mental defectives. Well, +they practise their infernal ditties in their rooms, and the row comes +into mine, and an accursed nuisance it is. However, they have agreed +not to practise on Thursdays and Fridays--my busy nights--and usually +they don’t. But to-night, just as I was in the thick of my writing, I +suddenly heard the most unholy din; that idiot, Fred Barnett, bawling +one of his imbecile songs--‘When the pigs their wings have folded,’ +and balderdash of that sort--and the other donkey accompanying him on +the clarinet, if you please! I stuck it for a minute or two. Then I +rushed round to their flat and raised Cain with the bell and knocker. +Mrs. Fred opened the door, and I told her what I thought of it. Of +course she was very apologetic, said they had forgotten that it was +Thursday and promised that she would make her husband stop. And I +suppose she did, for by the time I got back to my rooms the row had +ceased. I could have punched the whole lot of them into a jelly, but +it was all for the best as it turns out.” + +“What time was it when you went round there?” asked Miller. + +“About five minutes past nine,” replied Ponting. “The church bell had +struck nine when the row began.” + +“Hm!” grunted Miller, glancing at Thorndyke. “Well, that is all we +wanted to know, so we need not keep you from your work any longer.” + +He rose, and being let out with great alacrity, stumped down the +stairs, followed by Thorndyke and me. As we came out into the street, +he turned to us with a deeply disappointed expression. + +“Well,” he exclaimed, “this is a suck in. I was in hopes that we had +pounced on our quarry before he had got time to clear away the traces. +And now we’ve got it all to do. You can’t get round an alibi of that +sort.” + +I glanced at Thorndyke to see how he was taking this unexpected check. +He was evidently puzzled, and I could see by the expression of +concentration in his face that he was trying over the facts and +inferences in new combinations to meet this new position. Probably he +had noticed, as I had, that Ponting was wearing a tweed suit, and that +therefore the shreds of clothing from the fence could not be his +unless he had changed. But the alibi put him definitely out of the +picture, and, as Miller had said, we now had nothing to give us a +lead. + +Suddenly Thorndyke came out of his reverie and addressed the +superintendent. + +“We had better put this alibi on the basis of ascertained fact. It +ought to be verified at once. At present we have only Ponting’s +unsupported statement.” + +“It isn’t likely that he would risk telling a lie,” Miller replied +gloomily. + +“A man who is under suspicion of murder will risk a good deal,” +Thorndyke retorted, “especially if he is guilty. I think we ought to +see Mrs. Barnett before there is any opportunity of collusion.” + +“There has been time for collusion already,” said Miller. “Still, you +are quite right, and I see there is a light in their sitting-room, if +that is it, next to Ponting’s. Let us go up and settle the matter now. +I shall leave you to examine the witness and say what you think it +best to say.” + +We entered the building and ascended the stairs to the Barnetts’ flat, +where Miller rang the bell and executed a double knock. After a short +interval the door was opened and a woman looked out at us +inquisitively. + +“Are you Mrs. Frederick Barnett?” Thorndyke inquired. The woman +admitted her identity in a tone of some surprise, and Thorndyke +explained: “We have called to make a few inquiries concerning your +neighbour, Mr. Ponting, and also about certain matters relating to +your family. I am afraid it is a rather unseasonable hour for a visit, +but as the affair is of some importance and time is an object, I hope +you will overlook that.” + +Mrs. Barnett listened to this explanation with a puzzled and rather +suspicious air. After a few moments’ hesitation, she said: + +“I think you had better see my husband. If you will wait here a moment +I will go and tell him.” With this, she pushed the door to, without +actually closing it, and we heard her retire along the lobby, +presumably to the sitting-room. For, during the short colloquy, I had +observed a door at the end of the lobby, partly open, through which I +could see the end of a table covered with a red cloth. + +The “moment” extended to a full minute, and the superintendent began +to show signs of impatience. + +“I don’t see why you didn’t ask her the simple question straight out,” +he said, and the same question had occurred to me. But at this point +footsteps were heard approaching, the door opened, and a man +confronted us, holding the door open with his left hand, his right +being wrapped in a handkerchief. He looked suspiciously from one to +the other of us, and asked stiffly: + +“What is it that you want to know? And would you mind telling me who +you are?” + +“My name is Thorndyke,” was the reply. “I am the legal adviser of the +Reverend Charles Meade, and these two gentlemen are interested +parties. I want to know what you can tell me of Mr. Ponting’s recent +movements--to-day, for instance. When did you last see him?” + +The man appeared to be about to refuse any conversation, but suddenly +altered his mind, reflected for a few moments, and then replied: + +“I saw him from my window at his--they are bay-windows--about +half-past eight. But my wife saw him later than that. If you will come +in she can tell you the time exactly.” He led the way along the lobby +with an obviously puzzled air. But he was not more puzzled than I, or +than Miller, to judge by the bewildered glance that the superintendent +cast at me, as he followed our host along the lobby. I was still +meditating on Thorndyke’s curiously indirect methods when the +sitting-room door was opened; and then I got a minor surprise of +another kind. When I had last looked into the room, the table had been +covered by a red cloth. It was now bare; and when we entered the room +I saw that the red cover had been thrown over a side table, on which +was some bulky and angular object. Apparently it had been thought +desirable to conceal that object, whatever it was, and as we took our +seats beside the bare table, my mind was busy with conjectures as to +what that object could be. + +Mr. Barnett repeated Thorndyke’s question to his wife, adding: “I +think it must have been a little after nine when Ponting came round. +What do you say?” + +“Yes,” she replied, “it would be, for I heard it strike nine just +before you began your practice, and he came a few minutes after.” + +“You see,” Barnett explained, “I am a singer, and my brother, here, +accompanies me on various instruments, and of course we have to +practise. But we don’t practise on the nights when Ponting is +busy--Thursdays and Fridays--as he said that the music disturbed him. +To-night, however, we made a little mistake. I happen to have got a +new song that I am anxious to get ready--it has an illustrative +accompaniment on the clarinet, which my brother will play. We were so +much taken up with the new song that we all forgot what day of the +week it was, and started to have a good practise. But before we had +got through the first verse, Ponting came round, battering at the door +like a madman. My wife went out and pacified him, and of course we +shut down for the evening.” + +While Mr. Barnett was giving his explanation, I looked about the room +with vague curiosity. Somehow--I cannot tell exactly how--I was +sensible of something queer in the atmosphere of this place; of a +certain indefinite sense of tension. Mrs. Barnett looked pale and +flurried. Her husband, in spite of his volubility, seemed ill at ease, +and the brother, who sat huddled in an easy-chair, nursing a +dark-coloured Persian cat, stared into the fire, and neither moved nor +spoke. And again I looked at the red table-cloth and wondered what it +covered. + +“By the way,” said Barnett, after a brief pause, “what is the point of +these inquiries of yours? About Ponting, I mean. What does it matter +to you where he was this evening?” + +As he spoke, he produced a pipe and tobacco-pouch and proceeded to +fill the former, holding it in his bandaged right hand and filling it +with his left. The facility with which he did this suggested that he +was left-handed, an inference that was confirmed by the ease with +which he struck the match with his left hand, and by the fact that he +wore a wrist-watch on his right wrist. + +“Your question is a perfectly natural one,” said Thorndyke. “The +answer to it is that a very terrible thing has happened. Miss +Millicent Fawcett, who is, I think, a connexion of yours, met her +death this evening under circumstances of grave suspicion. She died, +either by her own hand or by the hand of a murderer, a few minutes +before nine o’clock. Hence it has become necessary to ascertain the +whereabouts at that time of any persons on whom suspicion might +reasonably fall.” + +“Good God!” exclaimed Barnett. “What a shocking thing!” + +The exclamation was followed by a deep silence, amidst which I could +hear the barking of a dog in an adjacent room, the unmistakable sharp, +treble yelp of a Pekinese. And again I seemed to be aware of a strange +sense of tension in the occupants of this room. On hearing Thorndyke’s +answer, Mrs. Barnett had turned deadly pale and let her head fall +forward on her hand. Her husband had sunk on to a chair, and he, too, +looked pale and deeply shocked, while the brother continued to stare +silently into the fire. + +At this moment Thorndyke astonished me by an exhibition of what +seemed--under the tragic circumstances--the most outrageous bad +manners and bad taste. Rising from his chair with his eyes fixed on a +print which hung on the wall above the red-covered table, he said: + +“That looks like one of Cameron’s etchings,” and forthwith stepped +across the room to examine it, resting his hand, as he leaned forward, +on the object covered by the cloth. + +“Mind where you are putting your hand, sir!” Fred Barnett called out, +springing to his feet. + +Thorndyke looked down at his hand, and deliberately raising a corner +of the cloth, looked under. “There is no harm done,” he remarked +quietly, letting the cloth drop; and with another glance at the print, +he went back to his chair. + +Once more a deep silence fell upon the room, and I had a vague feeling +that the tension had increased. Mrs. Barnett was as white as a ghost +and seemed to catch at her breath. Her husband watched her with a +wild, angry expression and smoked furiously, while the +superintendent--also conscious of something abnormal in the atmosphere +of the room--looked furtively from the woman to the man and from him +to Thorndyke. + +Yet again in the silence the shrill barking of the Pekinese dog broke +out, and somehow that sound connected itself in my mind with the +Persian cat that dozed on the knees of the immovable man by the fire. +I looked at the cat and at the man, and even as I looked, I was +startled by a most extraordinary apparition. Above the man’s shoulder, +slowly rose a little round head like the head of a diminutive, +greenish-brown man. Higher and higher the tiny monkey raised itself, +resting on its little hands to peer at the strangers. Then, with +sudden coyness, like a shy baby, it popped down out of sight. + +I was thunderstruck. The cat and the dog I had noted merely as a +curious coincidence. But the monkey--and such an unusual monkey, +too--put coincidences out of the question. I stared at the man in +positive stupefaction. Somehow that man was connected with that +unforgettable figure lying upon the couch miles away. But how? When +that deed of horror was doing, he had been here in this very room. +Yet, in some way, he had been concerned in it. And suddenly a +suspicion dawned upon me that Thorndyke was waiting for the actual +perpetrator to arrive. + +“It is a most ghastly affair,” Barnett repeated presently in a husky +voice. Then, after a pause, he asked: “Is there any sort of evidence +as to whether she killed herself or was killed by somebody else?” + +“I think that my friend, here, Detective-Superintendent Miller, has +decided that she was murdered.” He looked at the bewildered +superintendent, who replied with an inarticulate grunt. + +“And is there any clue as to who the--the murderer may be? You spoke +of suspected persons just now.” + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke, “there is an excellent clue, if it can only +be followed up. We found a most unmistakable footprint; and what is +more, we took a plaster cast of it. Would you like to see the cast?” + +Without waiting for a reply, he opened the research-case and took out +the cast, which he placed in my hands. + +“Just take it round and show it to them,” he said. + +The superintendent had witnessed Thorndyke’s amazing proceedings with +an astonishment that left him speechless. But now he sprang to his +feet, and, as I walked round the table, he pressed beside me to guard +the precious cast from possible injury. I laid it carefully down on +the table, and as the light fell on it obliquely, it presented a most +striking appearance--that of a snow-white boot-sole on which the +unshapely patch, the circular heel, and the marks of wear were clearly +visible. + +The three spectators gathered round, as near as the superintendent +would let them approach, and I observed them closely, assuming that +this incomprehensible move of Thorndyke’s was a device to catch one or +more of them off their guard. Fred Barnett looked at the cast stolidly +enough, though his face had gone several shades paler, but Mrs. +Barnett stared at it with starting eye-balls and dropped jaw--the very +picture of horror and dismay. As to James Barnett, whom I now saw +clearly for the first time, he stood behind the woman with a +singularly scared and haggard face, and his eyes riveted on the white +boot-sole. And now I could see that he wore a suit of blue serge and +that the front both of his coat and waistcoat were thickly covered +with the shed hairs of his pets. + +There was something very uncanny about this group of persons gathered +around that accusing footprint, all as still and rigid as statues and +none uttering a sound. But something still more uncanny followed. +Suddenly the deep silence of the room was shattered by the shrill +notes of a clarinet, and a brassy voice burst forth: + + + “_When the pigs their wings have folded_ + _And the cows are in their nest----_” + + +We all spun round in amazement, and at the first glance the mystery of +the crime was solved. There stood Thorndyke with the red table-cover +at his feet, and at his side, on the small table, a +massively-constructed phonograph of the kind used in offices for +dictating letters, but fitted with a convoluted metal horn in place of +the rubber ear-tubes. + +A moment of astonished silence was succeeded by a wild confusion. Mrs. +Barnett uttered a piercing shriek and fell back on to a chair, her +husband broke away and rushed at Thorndyke, who instantly gripped his +wrist and pinioned him, while the superintendent, taking in the +situation at a glance, fastened on the unresisting James and forced +him down into a chair. I ran round, and having stopped the +machine--for the preposterous song was hideously incongruous with the +tragedy that was enacting--went to Thorndyke’s assistance and helped +him to remove his prisoner from the neighbourhood of the instrument. + +“Superintendent Miller,” said Thorndyke, still maintaining a hold on +his squirming captive, “I believe you are a justice of the peace?” + +“Yes,” was the reply, “ex officio.” + +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “I accuse these three persons of being +concerned in the murder of Miss Millicent Fawcett; Frederick Barnett +as the principal who actually committed the murder, James Barnett as +having aided him by holding the arms of the deceased, and Mrs. Barnett +as an accessory before the fact in that she worked this phonograph for +the purpose of establishing a false alibi.” + +“I knew nothing about it!” Mrs. Barnett shrieked hysterically. “They +never told me why they wanted me to work the thing.” + +“We can’t go into that now,” said Miller. “You will be able to make +your defence at the proper time and place. Can one of you go for +assistance or must I blow my whistle?” + +“You had better go, Jervis,” said Thorndyke. “I can hold this man +until reinforcements arrive. Send a constable up and then go on to the +station. And leave the outer door ajar.” + +I followed these directions, and having found the police station, +presently returned to the flat with four constables and a sergeant in +two taxis. + +When the prisoners had been removed, together with the three +animals--the latter in charge of a zoophilist constable--we searched +the bedrooms. Frederick Barnett had changed his clothing completely, +but in a locked drawer--the lock of which Thorndyke picked neatly, to +the superintendent’s undisguised admiration--we found the discarded +garments, including a pair of torn shepherd’s plaid trousers, covered +with blood-stains, and a new, empty razor-case. These things, together +with the wax cylinder of the phonograph, Miller made up into a neat +parcel and took away with him. + + +“Of course,” said I, as we walked homewards, “the general drift of +this case is quite obvious. But it seemed to me that you went to the +Barnetts’ flat with a definite purpose already formed, and with a +definite suspicion in your mind. Now, I don’t see how you came to +suspect the Barnetts.” + +“I think you will,” he replied, “if you will recall the incidents in +their order from the beginning, including poor Meade’s preliminary +statement. To begin with the appearances of the body: the suggestion +of suicide was transparently false. To say nothing of its incongruity +with the character and circumstances of the deceased and the very +unlikely weapon used, there were the gashed collar and the cut +cap-string. As you know, it is a well-established rule that suicides +do not damage their clothing. A man who cuts his own throat doesn’t +cut his collar. He takes it off. He removes all obstructions. +Naturally, for he wishes to complete the act as easily and quickly as +possible, and he has time for preparation. But the murderer must take +things as he finds them and execute his purpose as best he can. + +“But further; the wounds were inflicted near the door, but the body +was on the couch at the other end of the room. We saw, from the +absence of bleeding, that she was dying--in fact, apparently +dead--when she lay down. She must therefore have been carried to the +couch after the wounds were inflicted. + +“Then there were the blood-stains. They were all in front, and the +blood had run down vertically. Then she must have been standing +upright while the blood was flowing. Now there were four wounds, and +the first one was mortal. It divided the common carotid artery and the +great veins. On receiving that wound she would ordinarily have fallen +down. But she did not fall, or there would have been a blood-stain +across the neck. Why did she not fall? The obvious suggestion was that +someone was holding her up. This suggestion was confirmed by the +absence of cuts on her hands--which would certainly have been cut if +someone had not been holding them. It was further confirmed by the +rough crumpling of the collar at the back: so rough that the button +was torn off. And we found that button near the door. + +“Further, there were the animal hairs. They were on the back only. +There were none on the front--where they would have been if derived +from the animals--or anywhere else. And we learned that she kept no +animals. All these appearances pointed to the presence of two persons, +one of whom stood behind her and held her arms while the other stood +in front and committed the murder. The cloth on the fence supported +this view, being probably derived from two different pairs of +trousers. The character of the wounds made it nearly certain that the +murderer was left-handed. + +“While we were returning in the cab, I reflected on these facts and +considered the case generally. First, what was the motive? There was +nothing to suggest robbery, nor was it in the least like a robber’s +crime. What other motive could there be? Well, here was a +comparatively rich woman who had made a will in favour of certain +persons, and she was going to be married. On her marriage the will +would automatically become void, and she was not likely to make +another will so favourable to those persons. Here, then, was a +possible motive, and that motive applied to Ponting, who had actually +uttered threats and was obviously suspect. + +“But, apart from those threats, Ponting was not the principal suspect, +for he benefited only slightly under the will. The chief beneficiaries +were the Barnetts, and Miss Fawcett’s death would benefit them, not +only by securing the validity of the will, but by setting the will +into immediate operation. And there were two of them. They therefore +fitted the circumstances better than Ponting did. And when we came to +interview Ponting, he went straight out of the picture. His manuscript +would probably have cleared him--with his editor’s confirmation. But +the other alibi was conclusive. + +“What instantly struck me, however, was that Ponting’s alibi was also +an alibi for the Barnetts. But there was this difference: Ponting had +been seen; the Barnetts had only been heard. Now, it has often +occurred to me that a very effective false alibi could be worked with +a gramophone or a phonograph--especially with one on which one can +make one’s own records. This idea now recurred to me; and at once it +was supported by the appearance of an arranged effect. Ponting was +known to be at work. It was practically certain that a blast of +‘music’ would bring him out. Then he would be available, if necessary, +as a witness to prove an alibi. It seemed to be worth while to +investigate. + +“When we came to the flat we encountered a man with an injured +hand--the right. It would have been more striking if it had been his +left. But it presently turns out that he is left-handed; which is +still more striking as a coincidence. This man is extraordinarily +ready to answer questions which most persons would have refused to +answer at all. Those answers contain the alibi. + +“Then there was the incident of the table-cover--I think you noticed +it. That cover was on the large table when we arrived, but it was +taken off and thrown over something, evidently to conceal it. But I +need not pursue the details. When I had seen the cat, heard the dog, +and then seen the monkey, I determined to see what was under the +table-cover; and finding that it was a phonograph with the cylinder +record still on the drum, I decided to ‘go Nap’ and chance making a +mistake. For until we had tried the record, the alibi remained. If it +had failed, I should have advised Miller to hold a boot parade. +Fortunately we struck the right record and completed the case.” + + +Mrs. Barnett’s defence was accepted by the magistrate and the charge +against her was dismissed. The other two were committed for trial, and +in due course paid the extreme penalty. “Yet another illustration,” +was Thorndyke’s comment, “of the folly of that kind of criminal who +won’t let well alone, and who will create false clues. If the Barnetts +had not laid down those false tracks, they would probably never have +been suspected. It was their clever alibi that led us straight to +their door.” + + + + + VI. + PANDORA’S BOX + +“I see our friend, S. Chapman, is still a defaulter,” said I, as I +ran my eye over the “personal” column of _The Times_. + +Thorndyke looked up interrogatively. + +“Chapman?” he repeated; “let me see, who is he?” + +“The man with the box. I read you the advertisement the other day. +Here it is again. ‘If the box left in the luggage-room by S. Chapman +is not claimed within a week from this date, it will be sold to defray +expenses.--Alexander Butt, “Red Lion” Hotel, Stoke Varley, Kent.’ That +sounds like an ultimatum; but it has been appearing at intervals for +the last month. As the first notice expired about three weeks ago, the +question is, why doesn’t Mr. Butt sell the box and have done with it?” + +“He may have some qualms as to the legality of the proceeding,” said +Thorndyke. “It would be interesting to know what expenses he refers to +and what is the value of the box.” + +The latter question was resolved a day or two later by the appearance +in our chambers of an agitated gentleman, who gave his name as George +Chapman. After apologizing for his unannounced visit he explained: + +“I have come to you on the advice of my solicitor and on behalf of my +brother, Samuel, who has become involved in a most extraordinary and +horrible set of complications. At present he is in custody of the +police charged with an atrocious murder.” + +“That is certainly a rather serious complication,” Thorndyke observed +dryly. “Perhaps you had better give us an account of the +circumstances--the whole set of circumstances, from the beginning.” + +“I will,” said Mr. Chapman, “without any reservations. The only +question is, which is the beginning? There are the business and the +domestic affairs. Perhaps I had better begin with the business +concerns. My brother was a sort of travelling agent for a firm of +manufacturing jewellers. He held a stock of the goods, which he used +as samples for large orders, but in the case of small retailers he +actually supplied the goods himself. When travelling, he usually +carried his stock in a small Gladstone bag, but he kept the bulk of it +in a safe in his house, and he used to go home at week-ends, or +oftener, to replenish his travelling stock. Now, about two months ago +he left home on a trip, but instead of taking a selection of his +goods, he took the entire stock in a largish wooden box, leaving the +safe empty. What he meant to do I don’t know, and that’s the fact. I +offer no opinion. The circumstances were peculiar, as you will hear +presently, and his proceedings were peculiar; for he went down to +Stoke Varley--a village not far from Folkestone--put up at the ‘Red +Lion,’ and deposited his box in the luggage-room that is kept for the +use of commercial travellers; and then, after staying there for a few +days, came up to London to make some arrangements for selling or +letting his house--which, it seems, he had decided to leave. He came +up in the evening, and the very next morning the first of his +adventures befell, and a very alarming one it was. + +“It appears that, as he was walking down a quiet street, he saw a +lady’s purse lying on the pavement. Naturally he picked it up, and as +it contained nothing to show the name or address of the owner, he put +it in his pocket, intending to hand it in at a police station. Shortly +after this, he got into an omnibus, and a well-dressed woman entered +at the same time and sat down next to him. Just as the conductor was +coming in to collect the fares, the woman began to search her pocket +excitedly, and then, turning to my brother, called on him loudly to +return her purse. Of course, he said that he knew nothing about her +purse, whereupon she roundly accused him of having picked her pocket, +declaring to the conductor that she had felt him take out her purse, +and demanding that the omnibus should be stopped and a policeman +fetched. At this moment a policeman was seen on the pavement. The +conductor stopped the omnibus and hailed the constable, who came, and +having examined the floor of the vehicle without finding the missing +purse, and taken the conductor’s name and number, took my brother into +custody and conducted him and the woman to the police station. Here +the inspector took down from the woman a description of the stolen +purse and its contents, which my brother, to his utter dismay, +recognized as that of the purse which he had picked up and which was +still in his pocket. Immediately, he gave the inspector an account of +the incident and produced the purse; but it is hardly necessary to say +that the inspector refused to take his explanation seriously. + +“Then my brother did a thing which was natural enough, but which did +not help him. Seeing that he was practically certain to be +convicted--for there was really no answer to the charge--he gave a +false name and refused his address. He was then locked up in a cell +for the night, and the next morning was brought before the magistrate, +who, having heard the evidence of the woman and the inspector and +having listened without comment to my brother’s story, committed him +for trial at the Central Criminal Court, and refused bail. He was then +removed to Brixton, where he was detained for nearly a month, pending +the opening of the sessions. + +“At length the day of his trial drew near. But it was then found that +the woman who had accused him had left her lodgings and could not be +traced. As there was no one to prosecute, and as the disappearance of +the woman put a rather new light upon my brother’s story, the case +against him was allowed to drop, and he was released. + +“He went home by train, and at the station he bought a copy of _The +Times_ to read on the way. Before opening it he chanced to run his eye +over the ‘personal’ column, and there his attention was arrested by +his own name in an advertisement----” + +“Relating to a box?” said I. + +“Precisely. Then you have seen it. Well, considering the value of the +contents of that box, he was naturally rather anxious. At once he sent +off a telegram saying that he would call on the following day before +noon to claim the box and pay what was owing. And he did so. Yesterday +morning he took an early train down to Stoke Varley and went straight +to the ‘Red Lion.’ On his arrival he was asked to step into the +coffee-room, which he did; and there he found three police officers, +who forthwith arrested him on a charge of murder. But before going +into the particulars of that charge, I had better give you an account +of his domestic affairs, on which this incredible and horrible +accusation turns. + +“My brother, I am sorry to say, was living with a woman who was not +his wife. He had originally intended to marry her, but his association +with her--which lasted over several years--did not encourage that +intention. She was a terrible woman, and she led him a terrible life. +Her temper was ungovernable; and when she had taken too much to +drink--which was a pretty frequent occurrence--she was not only noisy +and quarrelsome, but physically violent as well. Her antecedents were +disreputable--she had been connected with the seamy side of the +music-hall stage; her associations were disreputable; she brought +questionable women to my brother’s house; she consorted with men of +doubtful character, and her relations with them were equally doubtful. +Indeed, with one of them, a man named Gamble, I should say that her +relations were not doubtful at all, though I understand he was a +married man. + +“Well, my brother put up with her for years, living a life that cut +him off from all decent society. But at last his patience gave way +(and I may add that he made the acquaintance of a very desirable lady, +who was willing to condone his past and marry him if he could secure a +possible future). After a particularly outrageous scene, he ordered +the woman--Rebecca Mings was her name--out of the house and declared +their relationship at an end. + +“But she refused to be shaken off. She kept possession of the +street-door key, and she returned again and again, and made a public +scandal. The last time she created such an uproar when the door was +bolted against her that a crowd collected in the street and my brother +was forced to let her in. She stayed with him some hours, alone in the +house--for the only servant he had was a ‘daily girl’ who left at +three o’clock--and went away quite quietly about ten at night. But, +although a good many people saw her go into the house, no one but my +brother seems to have seen her leave it; a most disastrous +circumstance, for, from the moment when she left the house, no one +ever saw her again. She did not go to her lodgings that night. She +disappeared utterly--until--but I must go back now to the ‘Red Lion’ +at Stoke Varley. + +“When my brother was arrested on the charge of having murdered Rebecca +Mings, certain particulars were given to him; and when I went down +there in response to a telegram, I gathered some more. The +circumstances are these: About a fortnight after my brother had left +to come to London, some of the ‘commercials’ who used the luggage-room +complained of an unpleasant odour in it, which was presently traced to +my brother’s box. As that box appeared to have been abandoned, the +landlord became suspicious, and communicated with the police. They +telephoned to the London police, who found my brother’s house shut up +and his whereabouts unknown. Thereupon the local police broke open the +box and found in it a woman’s left arm and a quantity of blood-stained +clothing. On which they caused the advertisement to be put in _The +Times_, and meanwhile they made certain inquiries. It appeared that my +brother had spent part of his time at Stoke Varley fishing in the +little river. On learning this, the police proceeded to dredge the +river, and presently they brought up a right arm--apparently the +fellow of the one found in the box--and a leg divided into three +parts, evidently a woman’s. Now, as to the arm found in the box, there +could be no question about its identity, for it bore a very distinct +tattooed inscription consisting of the initials R.M. above a heart +transfixed by an arrow, with the initials J.B. underneath. A few +inquiries elicited the fact that the woman, Rebecca Mings, who had +disappeared, bore such a tattooed mark on her left arm; and certain +persons who had known her, having been sworn to secrecy, were shown +the arm, and recognized the mark without hesitation. Further inquiries +showed that Rebecca Mings was last seen alive entering my brother’s +house, as I have described; and on this information, the police broke +into the house and searched it.” + +“Do you know if they found anything?” Thorndyke asked. + +“I don’t,” replied Chapman, “but I infer that they did. The police at +Stoke Varley were very courteous and kind, but they declined to give +any particulars about the visit to the house. However, we shall hear +at the inquest if they made any discoveries.” + +“And is that all that you have to tell us?” asked Thorndyke. + +“Yes,” was the reply, “and enough, too. I make no comment on my +brother’s story, and I won’t ask whether you believe it. I don’t +expect you to. The question is whether you would undertake the +defence. I suppose it isn’t necessary for a lawyer to be convinced of +his client’s innocence in order to convince the jury.” + +“You are thinking of an advocate,” said Thorndyke. “I am not an +advocate, and I should not defend a man whom I believed to be guilty. +The most that I can do is to investigate the case. If the result of +the investigation is to confirm the suspicions against your brother, I +shall go no farther in the case. You will have to get an ordinary +criminal barrister to defend your brother. If, on the other hand, I +find reasonable grounds for believing him innocent, I will undertake +the defence. What do you say to that?” + +“I’ve no choice,” replied Chapman; “and I suppose, if you find all the +evidence against him, the defence won’t matter much.” + +“I am afraid that is so,” said Thorndyke. “And now there are one or +two questions to be cleared up. First, does your brother offer any +explanation of the presence of these remains in his box?” + +“He supposes that somebody at the ‘Red Lion’ must have taken the +jewellery out and put the remains in. Anyone could get access to the +luggage-room by asking for the key at the office.” + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “that is conceivable. Then, as to the person +who might have made this exchange. Is there anyone who had any reason +for wishing to make away with deceased?” + +“No,” replied Chapman. “Plenty of people disliked her, but no one but +my brother had any motive for getting rid of her.” + +“You spoke of a man with whom she was on somewhat intimate terms. +There had been no quarrel or breach there, I suppose?” + +“The man, Gamble, you mean. No, I should say they were the best of +friends. Besides, Gamble had no responsibilities in regard to her. He +could have dropped her whenever he was tired of her.” + +“Do you know anything about him?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Very little. He has been a rolling stone, and has been in all sorts +of jobs, I believe. He was in the New Zealand trade for some time and +dealt in all sorts of things--among others, in smoked human heads; +sold them to collectors and museums, I understand. So he would have +had some previous experience,” Chapman added with a faint grin. + +“Not in dismemberment,” said Thorndyke. “Those will have been ancient +Maori heads--relics of the old head hunters. There are some in the +Hunterian Museum. But, as you say, there seems to be no motive in +Gamble’s case, even if there had been the opportunity; whereas, in +your brother’s case, there seems to have been both the motive and the +opportunity. I suppose your brother never threatened the deceased?” + +“I am sorry to say he did,” replied Chapman. “On several occasions, +and before witnesses, too, he threatened to put her out of the way. Of +course he never meant it--he was really the mildest of men. But it was +a foolish thing to do and most unfortunate, as things have turned +out.” + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “I will look into the matter and let you know +what I think of it. It is unnecessary to remark that appearances are +not very encouraging.” + +“No, I can see that,” said Chapman, rising and producing his +card-case. “But we must hope for the best.” He laid his card on the +table, and having shaken hands with us gloomily, took his departure. + +“It doesn’t do to take things at their face value,” I remarked, when +he had gone; “but I don’t think we have ever had a more +hopeless-looking case. All it wants to complete it is the discovery of +remains in Chapman’s house.” + +“In that respect,” said Thorndyke, “it may already be complete. But it +hardly wants that finishing touch. On the evidence that we have, any +jury would find a verdict of ‘guilty’ without leaving the box. The +only question for us is whether the face value of the evidence is its +real value. If it is, the defence will be a mere formality.” + +“I suppose,” said I, “you will begin the investigation at Stoke +Varley?” + +“Yes,” he replied. “We begin by checking the alleged facts. If they +are really as stated, we shall probably need to go no farther. And we +had better lose no time, as the remains may be moved into the +jurisdiction of a London coroner, and we ought to see everything _in +situ_ as far as possible. I suggest that we postpone the rest of +to-day’s business and start at once, taking Scotland Yard on the way +to get authority to inspect the remains and the premises.” + +In a few minutes we were ready for the expedition. While Thorndyke +packed the “research-case” with the necessary instruments, I gave +instructions to our laboratory assistant, Polton, as to what was to be +done in our absence, and then, when we had consulted the time-table, +we set forth by way of the Embankment. + +At Scotland Yard, on inquiring for our friend, Superintendent Miller, +we received the slightly unwelcome news that he was at Stoke Varley, +inquiring into the case. However, the authorization was given readily +enough, and, armed with this, we made our way to Charing Cross +Station, arriving there in good time to catch our train. + +We had just given up our tickets and turned out into the pleasant +station approach of Stoke Varley when Thorndyke gave a soft chuckle. I +looked at him inquiringly, and he explained: “Miller has had a +telegram, and we are going to have facilities, with a little +supervision.” Following the direction of his glance, I now observed +the superintendent strolling towards us, trying to look surprised, but +achieving only a somewhat sheepish grin. + +“Well, I’m sure, gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “This is an unexpected +pleasure. You don’t mean to say you are engaged in this treasure-trove +case?” + +“Why not?” asked Thorndyke. + +“Well, I’ll tell you why not,” replied Miller. “Because it’s no go. +You’ll only waste your time and injure your reputation. I may as well +let you know, in confidence, that we’ve been through Chapman’s house +in London. It wasn’t very necessary; but still, if there was a vacancy +in his coffin for one or two more nails, we’ve knocked them in.” + +“What did you find in his house?” Thorndyke asked. + +“We found,” replied Miller, “in a cupboard in his bedroom, a +good-sized bottle of hyoscine tablets, about two-thirds +full--one-third missing. No great harm in that; he might have taken +’em himself. But when we went down into the cellar, we noticed that +the place smelt--well, a bit graveyardy, so to speak. So we had a look +round. It was a stone-floored cellar, not very even, but so far as we +could see, none of the flagstones seemed to have been disturbed. We +didn’t want the job of digging the whole of them up, so I just filled +a bucket with water and poured it over the floor. Then I watched. + +“In less than a minute one big flagstone near the middle went nearly +dry, while the water still stood on all the others. ‘What O!’ says I. +‘Loose earth underneath here.’ So we got a crow-bar and prised up that +big flag; and sure enough, underneath it we found a good-sized bundle +done up in a sheet. I won’t go into unpleasant particulars--not that +it would upset you, I suppose--but that bundle contained human +remains.” + +“Any bones?” inquired Thorndyke. + +“No. Mostly in’ards and some skin from the front of the body. We +handed them over to the Home Office experts, and they examined them +and made an analysis. Their report states that the remains are those +of a woman of about thirty-five--that was about Mings’ age--and that +the various organs contained a large quantity of hyoscine; more than +enough to have caused death. So there you are. If you are going to +conduct the defence, you won’t get much glory from it.” + +“It is very good of you, Miller,” said Thorndyke, “to have given us +this private information. It is very helpful, though I have not +undertaken the defence. I have merely come down to check the facts and +see if there is any material for a defence. And I shall go through the +routine, as I am here. Where are the remains?” + +“In the mortuary. I’ll show you the way, and as I happen to have the +key in my pocket, I can let you in.” + +We passed through the outskirts of the village--gathering a small +train of stealthy followers, who dogged us to the door of the mortuary +and hungrily watched us as the superintendent let us in and locked the +door after us. + +“There you are,” said Miller, indicating the slate table on which the +remains lay, covered by a sheet soaked in an antiseptic. “I’ve seen +all I want to see.” And he retired into a corner and lit his pipe. + +The remnants of mortality, disclosed by the removal of the sheet, were +dreadfully suggestive of crime in its most brutal and horrible form, +but they offered little information. The dismemberment had been +manifestly rude and unskilful, and the remains were clearly those of a +woman of medium size and apparently in the prime of life. The +principal interest centred in the left arm, the waxen skin of which +bore a very distinct tattoo-mark, consisting of the initials R.M. over +a very symmetrical heart, transfixed by an arrow, beneath which were +the initials J.B. The letters were Roman capitals about half an inch +high, well-formed and finished with serifs, and the heart and arrow +quite well drawn. I looked reflectively at the device, standing out in +dull blue from its ivory-like background, and speculated vaguely as to +whom J.B. might have been and how many predecessors and successors he +had had. And then my interest waned, and I joined the superintendent +in the corner. It was a sordid case, and a conviction being a foregone +conclusion, it did not seem to call for further attention. + +Thorndyke, however, seemed to think otherwise. But that was his way. +When he was engaged in an investigation he put out of his mind +everything that he had been told and began from the very beginning. +That was what he was doing now. He was inspecting these remains as if +they had been the remains of some unidentified person. He made, and +noted down, minute measurements of the limbs; he closely examined +every square inch of surface; he scrutinized each finger separately, +and then with the aid of his portable inking-plate and roller, took a +complete set of finger-prints. He measured all the dimensions of the +tattoo-marks with a delicate calliper-gauge, and then examined the +marks themselves, first with a common lens and then with the +high-power Coddington. The principles that he laid down in his +lectures at the hospital were: “Accept no statement without +verification; observe every fact independently for yourselves; and +keep an open mind.” And, certainly, no one ever carried out more +conscientiously his own precepts. + +“Do you know, Dr. Jervis,” the superintendent whispered to me as +Thorndyke brought his Coddington to bear on the tattoo-marks, “I +believe this lens business is becoming a habit with the doctor. It’s +my firm conviction that if somebody were to blow up the Houses of +Parliament, he’d go and examine the ruins through a magnifying glass. +Just look at him poring over those tattooed letters that you could +read plainly twenty feet away!” + +Meanwhile, Thorndyke, unconscious of these criticisms, placidly +continued his inspection. From the table, with its gruesome burden, he +transferred his attention to the box, which had been placed on a bench +by the window, examining it minutely inside and out; feeling with his +fingers the dark grey paint with which it was coated and the +white-painted initials, “S.C.,” on the lid, which he also measured +carefully. He even copied into his note-book the maker’s name, which +was stamped on a small brass label affixed to the inside of the lid, +and the name of the lock-maker, and inspected the screws which had +drawn from the wood when it was forced open. At length he put away his +note-book, closed the research-case and announced that he had +finished, adding the inquiry: “How do you get to the ‘Red Lion’ from +here?” + +“It’s only a few minutes’ walk,” said Miller. “I’ll show you the way. +But you’re wasting your time, doctor, you are indeed. You see,” he +continued, when he had locked up the mortuary and pocketed the key, +“that suggestion of Chapman’s is ridiculous on the face of it. Just +imagine a man bringing a portmanteau full of human remains into the +luggage-room of a commercial hotel, opening it and opening another +man’s box, and swapping the contents of the one for the other with the +chance of one of the commercials coming in at any moment. Supposing +one of ’em had, what would he have had to say? ‘Hallo!’ says the +baggy, ‘you seem to have got somebody’s arm in your box.’ ‘So I have,’ +says Chapman. ‘I expect it’s my wife’s. Careless woman! must have +dropped it in when she was packing the box.’ Bah! It’s a fool’s +explanation. Besides, how could he have got Chapman’s box open? We +couldn’t. It was a first-class lock. We had to break it open, but it +hadn’t been broken open before. No, sir, that cat won’t jump. Still, +you needn’t take my word for it. Here is the place, and here is Mr. +Butt, himself, standing at his own front door looking as pleasant as +the flowers in May, like the lump of sugar that you put in a fly-trap +to induce ’em to walk in.” + +The landlord, who had overheard--without difficulty--the concluding +passage of Miller’s peroration, smiled genially; and when the purpose +of the visit had been explained, suggested a “modest quencher” in the +private parlour as an aid to conversation. + +“I wanted,” said Thorndyke, waiving the suggestion of the “quencher,” +“to ascertain whether Chapman’s theory of an exchange of contents +could be seriously entertained.” + +“Well, sir,” said the landlord, “the fact is that it couldn’t. That +room is a public room, and people may be popping in there at any time +all day. We don’t usually keep it locked. It isn’t necessary. We know +most of our customers, and the contents of the packages that are +stowed in the room are principally travellers’ samples of no +considerable value. The thing would have been impossible in the +daytime, and we lock the room up at night.” + +“Have you had any strangers staying with you in the interval between +Chapman’s going away and the discovery of the remains?” + +“Yes. There was a Mr. Doler; he had two cabin trunks and a uniform +case which went to the luggage-room. And then there was a lady, Mrs. +Murchison. She had a lot of stuff in there: a small, flat trunk, a +hat-box, and a big dress-basket--one of these great basket +pantechnicons that ladies take about with them. And there was another +gentleman--I forget his name, but you will see it in the visitors’ +book--he had a couple of largish portmanteaux in there. Perhaps you +would like to see the book?” + +“I should,” said Thorndyke; and when the book was produced and the +names of the guests pointed out, he copied the entries into his +note-book, adding the particulars of their luggage. + +“And now, sir,” said Miller, “I suppose you won’t be happy until +you’ve seen the room itself?” + +“Your insight is really remarkable, superintendent,” my colleague +replied. “Yes, I should like to see the room.” + +There was little enough to see, however, when we arrived there. The +key was in the door, and the latter was not only unlocked but stood +ajar; and when we pushed it open and entered we saw a small room, +empty save for a collection of portmanteaux, trunks, and Gladstone +bags. The only noteworthy fact was that it was at the end of a +corridor, covered with linoleum, so that anyone inside would have a +few seconds’ notice of another person’s approach. But evidently that +would have been of little use in the alleged circumstances. For the +hypothetical criminal must have emptied Chapman’s box of the jewellery +before he could put the incriminating objects into it; so that, apart +from the latter, the arrival of an inopportune visitor would have +found him apparently in the act of committing a robbery. The +suggestion was obviously absurd. + +“By the way,” said Thorndyke, as we descended the stairs, “where is +the central character of this drama--Chapman? He is not here, I +suppose?” + +“Yes, he is,” replied Miller. “He is committed for trial, but we are +keeping him here until we know where the inquest is to be held. You +would probably like to have a few words with him? Well, I’ll take you +along to the police station and tell them who you are, and then +perhaps you would like to come back here and have some lunch or dinner +before you return to town.” + +I warmly seconded the latter proposal, and the arrangement having been +made, we set forth for the police station, which we gathered from +Miller was incorporated with a small local prison. Here we were shown +into what appeared to be a private office, and presently a sergeant +entered, ushering in a man whom we at once recognized from his +resemblance to our client, Mr. George Chapman, disguised though it was +by his pallor, his unshaven face, and his air of abject misery. The +sergeant, having announced him by name, withdrew with the +superintendent and locked the door on the outside. As soon as we were +alone, Thorndyke rapidly acquainted the prisoner with the +circumstances of his brother’s visit and then continued: + +“Now, Mr. Chapman, you want me to undertake your defence. If I do so, +I must have all the facts. If there is anything known to you that your +brother has not told me, I ask you to tell it to me without +reservation.” + +Chapman shook his head wearily. + +“I know nothing more than you know,” said he. “The whole affair is a +mystery that I can make nothing of. I don’t expect you to believe me. +Who would, with all this evidence against me? But I swear to God that +I know nothing of this abominable crime. When I brought that box down +here, it contained my stock of jewellery and nothing else; and after I +put it in the luggage-room, I never opened it.” + +“Do you know of anybody who might have had a motive for getting rid of +Rebecca Mings?” + +“Not a soul,” replied Chapman. “She led me the devil’s own life, but +she was popular enough with her own friends. And she was an attractive +woman in her way: a fine, well-built woman, rather big--she stood +five-feet-seven--with a good complexion and very handsome golden hair. +Such as her friends were--they were a shady lot--I think they were +fond of her, and I don’t believe she had any enemies.” + +“Some hyoscine was found in your house,” said Thorndyke. “Do you know +anything about it?” + +“Yes. I got it when I suffered from neuralgia. But I never took any. +My doctor heard about it and sent me to the dentist. The bottle was +never opened. It contained a hundred tablets.” + +“And with regard to the box,” said Thorndyke. “Had you had it long?” + +“Not very long. I bought it at Fletchers, in Holborn, about six months +ago.” + +“And you have nothing more to tell us?” + +“No,” he replied. “I wish I had;” and then, after a pause, he asked +with a wistful look at Thorndyke: “Are you going to undertake my +defence, sir? I can see that there is very little hope, but I should +like to be given just a chance.” + +I glanced at Thorndyke, expecting at the most a cautious and +conditional reply. To my astonishment he answered: + +“There is no need to take such a gloomy view of the case, Mr. Chapman. +I shall undertake the defence, and I think you have quite a fair +chance of an acquittal.” + +On this amazing reply I reflected, not without some self-condemnation, +during our walk to the hotel and the meal that preceded our departure. +For it was evident that I had missed something vital. Thorndyke was a +cautious man and little given to making promises or forecasts of +results. He must have picked up some evidence of a very conclusive +kind; but what that evidence could be, I found it impossible to +imagine. The superintendent, too, was puzzled, I could see, for +Thorndyke made no secret of his intention to go on with the case. But +Miller’s delicate attempts to pump him came to nothing; and when he +had escorted us to the station and our train moved off, I could see +him standing on the platform, gently scratching the back of his head +and gazing speculatively at our retreating carriage. + +As soon as we were clear of the station, I opened my attack. + +“What on earth,” I demanded, “did you mean by giving that poor devil, +Chapman, hopes of acquittal? I can’t see that he has a dog’s chance.” + +Thorndyke looked at me gravely. + +“My impression is, Jervis,” he said, “that you have not kept an open +mind in this case. You have allowed yourself to fall under the +suggestive influence of the obvious; whereas the function of the +investigator is to consider the possible alternatives of the obvious +inference. And you have not brought your usual keen attention to bear +on the facts. If you had considered George Chapman’s statement +attentively, you would have noticed that it contained some very +curious and significant suggestions; and if you had examined those +dismembered remains critically, you would have seen that they +confirmed those suggestions in a very remarkable manner.” + +“As to George Chapman’s statement,” said I, “the only suggestive point +that I recall is the reference to those Maori heads. But, as you, +yourself, pointed out, the dealers in those heads don’t do the +dismemberment.” + +Thorndyke shook his head a little impatiently. + +“Tut, tut, Jervis,” said he, “that isn’t the point at all. Any fool +can cut up a dead body as this one has been cut up. The point is that +that statement, carefully considered, yields a definite and consistent +alternative to the theory that Samuel Chapman killed this woman and +dismembered her body; and that alternative theory is supported by the +appearance of these remains. I think you will see the point if you +recall Chapman’s statement, and reflect on the possible bearing of the +various incidents that he described.” + +In this, however, Thorndyke was unduly optimistic. I recalled the +statement completely enough, and reflected on it frequently and +profoundly during the next few days; but the more I thought of it the +more conclusive did the case against the accused appear. + +Meanwhile, my colleague appeared to be taking no steps in the matter, +and I assumed that he was waiting for the inquest. It is true that, +when, on one occasion, he had accompanied me towards the City, and +leaving me in Queen Victoria Street disappeared into the premises of +Messrs. Burden Brothers, lock manufacturers, I was inclined to +associate his proceedings with his minute examination of the lock at +Stoke Varley. And, again, when our laboratory assistant, Polton, was +seen to issue forth, top-hatted and armed with an umbrella and an +attaché-case, I suspected some sort of “private inquiries,” possibly +connected with the case. But from Thorndyke I could get no information +at all. My tentative “pumpings” elicited one unvarying reply. “You +have the facts, Jervis. You heard George Chapman’s statement, and you +have seen the remains. Give me a reasonable theory and I will discuss +it with pleasure.” And that was how the matter remained. I had no +reasonable theory--other than that of the police--and there was +accordingly no discussion. + +On a certain evening, a couple of days before the inquest--which had +been postponed in the hope that some further remains might be +discovered--I observed signs of an expected visitor: a small table +placed by the supernumerary arm-chair and furnished with a tray +bearing a siphon, a whisky-decanter and a box of cigars. Thorndyke +caught my inquiring glance at these luxuries, for which neither of us +had any use, and proceeded to explain. + +“I have asked Miller to look in this evening--he is due now. I have +been working at this Chapman case, and as it is now complete, I +propose to lay my cards on the table.” + +“Is that safe?” said I. “Supposing the police still go for a +conviction and try to forestall your evidence?” + +“They won’t,” he replied. “They couldn’t. And it would be most +improper to let the case go for trial on a false theory. But here is +Miller; and a mighty twitter he is in, I have no doubt.” + +He was. Without even waiting for the customary cigar, he plumped down +into the chair, and dragging a letter from his pocket, fixed a glare +of astonishment on my placid colleague. + +“This letter of yours, sir,” said he, “is perfectly incomprehensible +to me. You say that you are prepared to put us in possession of the +facts of this Chapman case. But we are in possession of the facts +already. We are absolutely certain of a conviction. Let me remind you, +sir, of what those facts are. We have got a dead body which has been +identified beyond all doubt. Part of that body was found in a box +which is the property of Samuel Chapman, which was brought by him and +deposited by him at the ‘Red Lion’ Hotel. Another part of that body +was found in his dwelling-house. A supply of poison--an uncommon +poison, too--similar to that which killed the dead person, has also +been found in his house; and the dead body is that of a woman with +whom Chapman was known to be on terms of enmity and whom he has +threatened, in the presence of witnesses, to kill. Now, sir, what have +you got to say to those facts?” + +Thorndyke regarded the agitated detective with a quiet smile. “My +comments, Miller,” said he, “can be put in a nut-shell. You have got +the wrong man, you have got the wrong box, and you have got the wrong +body.” + +The superintendent was thunderstruck, and no wonder. So was I. As to +Miller, he drew himself forward until he was sitting on the extreme +edge of the chair, and for some moments stared at my impassive +colleague in speechless amazement. At length he burst out: + +“But, my dear sir! This is sheer nonsense--at least, that’s what it +sounds like, though I know it can’t be. Let’s begin with the body. You +say it’s the wrong one.” + +“Yes. Rebecca Mings was a biggish woman. Her height was +five-feet-seven. This woman was not more than five-feet-four.” + +“Bah!” exclaimed Miller. “You can’t judge to an inch or two from parts +of a dismembered body. You are forgetting the tattoo-mark. That +clenches the identity beyond any possible doubt.” + +“It does, indeed,” said Thorndyke. “That is the crucial evidence. +Rebecca Mings had a certain tattoo-mark on her left forearm. This +woman had not.” + +“Had not!” shrieked Miller, coming yet farther forward on his chair. +(I expected, every moment, to see him sitting on the floor.) “Why, I +saw it; and so did you.” + +“I am speaking of the woman, not of the body,” said Thorndyke. “The +mark that you saw was a post-mortem tattoo-mark. It was made after +death. But the fact that it was made after death is good evidence that +it was not there during life.” + +“Moses!” exclaimed the superintendent. “This is a facer. Are you +perfectly sure it was done after death?” + +“Quite sure. The appearance, through a powerful lens, is unmistakable. +Tattoo-marks are made, as you know, of course, by painting Indian ink +on the skin and pricking it in with fine needles. In the living skin +the needle wounds heal up at once and disappear, but in the dead skin +the needle-holes remain unclosed and can be easily seen with a lens. +In this case the skin had been well washed and the surface pressed +with some smooth object; but the holes were plainly visible and the +ink was still in them.” + +“Well, I’m sure!” said Miller. “I never heard of tattooing a dead body +before.” + +“Very few people have, I expect,” said Thorndyke. “But there is one +class of persons who know all about it: the persons who deal in Maori +heads.” + +“Indeed?” queried Miller. “How does it concern them?” + +“Those heads are usually elaborately tattooed, and the value of a head +depends on the quality of the tattooing. Now, when those heads became +objects of trade, the dealers conceived the idea of touching up +defective specimens by additional tattooing on the dead head, and from +this they proceeded to obtain heads which had no tattoo-marks, and +turn them into tattooed heads.” + +“Well, to be sure,” said the superintendent, with a grin, “what wicked +men there are in the world, aren’t there, Dr. Jervis?” + +I murmured a vague assent, but I was principally conscious of a desire +to kick myself for having failed to pick this invaluable clue out of +George Chapman’s statement. + +“And now,” said Miller, “we come to the box. How do you know it is the +wrong one?” + +“That,” replied Thorndyke, “is proved even more conclusively. The +original box was made by Fletchers, in Holborn. It was sold to +Chapman, and his initials painted on it, on the 9th of last April. I +have seen the entry in the day-book. The locks of these boxes are made +by Burden Brothers of Queen Victoria Street, and as they are quite +high-class locks each is given a registered number, which is stamped +on the lock. The number on the lock of the box that you have is 5007, +and Burden’s books show that it was made and sold to Fletchers about +the middle of July--the sale was dated the 13th. Therefore this cannot +be Chapman’s box.” + +“Apparently not,” Miller agreed. “But whose box is it? And what has +become of Chapman’s box?” + +“That,” replied Thorndyke, “was presumably taken away in Mrs. +Murchison’s dress-basket.” + +“Then who the deuce is Mrs. Murchison?” demanded the superintendent. + +“I should say,” replied Thorndyke, “that she was formerly known as +Rebecca Mings.” + +“The deceased!” exclaimed Miller, falling back in his chair with a +guffaw. “My eye! What a lark it is! But she must have some sauce, to +walk off with the jewellery and leave her own dismembered remains in +exchange! By the way, whose remains are they?” + +“We shall come to that presently,” Thorndyke answered. “Now we have to +consider the man you have in custody.” + +“Yes,” agreed Miller, “we must settle about him. Of course if it isn’t +his box, and the body isn’t Mings’ body, that puts him out of it so +far. But there are those remains that we dug up in his cellar. What +about them?” + +“That question,” replied Thorndyke, “will, I think, be answered by a +general review of the case. But I must remind you that if the box is +not Chapman’s, it is some other person’s; that is to say, that if +Chapman goes out of the case, as to the Stoke Varley incidents, +someone else comes in. So, if the body is not Mings’ body, it is some +other woman’s, and that other woman must have disappeared. And now let +us review the case as a whole. + +“You know about the pocket-picking charge. It was obviously a false +charge, deliberately prepared by ‘planting’ the purse; that is, it was +a conspiracy. Now what was the object of this conspiracy? Clearly it +was to get Chapman out of the way while the boxes were exchanged at +Stoke Varley, and the remains deposited in the river and elsewhere. +Then who were the conspirators--other than the agent who planted the +purse? + +“They--if there were more than one--must have had access to Mings, +dead or alive, in order to make the exact copy, or tracing, of her +tattoo-mark. They must have had some knowledge of the process of +post-mortem tattooing. They must have had access to Chapman’s house. +And, since they had in their possession the dead body of a woman, they +must have been associated with some woman who has disappeared. + +“Who is there who answers this description? Well, of course, Mings had +access to herself, though she could hardly have taken a tracing from +her own arm, and she had access to Chapman’s house, since she had +possession of the latch-key. Then there is a man named Gamble, with +whom Mings was on terms of great intimacy. Now Gamble was formerly a +dealer in tattoed Maori heads, so he may be assumed to know something +about post-mortem tattooing. And I have ascertained that Gamble’s wife +has disappeared from her usual places of resort. So here are two +persons who, together, agree with the description of the conspirators. +And now let us consider the train of events in connexion with the +dates. + +“On July the 29th Chapman came to town from Stoke Varley. On the 30th +he was arrested as a pickpocket. On the 31st he was committed for +trial. On the 2nd of August Mrs. Gamble went away to the country. No +one seems to have seen her go, but that is the date on which she is +reported to have gone. On August the 5th Mrs. Murchison deposited at +Stoke Varley a box which must have been purchased between the 13th of +July and the 4th of August, and which contained a woman’s arm. On the +14th of August that box was opened by the police. On the 18th human +remains were discovered in Chapman’s house. On the 27th Chapman was +released from Brixton. On the 28th he was arrested for murder at Stoke +Varley. I think, Miller, you will agree that that is a very striking +succession of dates.” + +“Yes,” Miller agreed. “It looks like a true bill. If you will give me +Mr. Gamble’s address, I’ll call on him.” + +“I’m afraid you won’t find him at home,” said Thorndyke. “He has gone +into the country, too; and I gather from his landlord, who holds a +returned cheque, that Mr. Gamble’s banking account has gone into the +country with him.” + +“Then,” said the superintendent, “I suppose I must take a trip into +the country, too.” + + +“Well, Thorndyke,” I said, as I laid down the paper containing the +report of the trial of Gamble and Mings for the murder of Theresa +Gamble, one morning about four months later, “you ought to be very +highly gratified. After sentencing Gamble to death and Mings to +fifteen years’ penal servitude, the judge took the opportunity to +compliment the police on their ingenuity in unravelling this crime, +and the Home Office experts on their skill in detecting the +counterfeit tattoo-marks. What do you think of that?” + +“I think,” replied Thorndyke, “that his lordship showed a very proper +and appreciative spirit.” + + + + + VII. + THE TRAIL OF BEHEMOTH + +Of all the minor dissipations in which temperate men indulge there +is none, I think, more alluring than the after-breakfast pipe. I had +just lit mine and was standing before the fire with the unopened paper +in my hand when my ear caught the sound of hurried footsteps ascending +the stair. Now experience has made me somewhat of a connoisseur in +footsteps. A good many are heard on our stair, heralding the advent of +a great variety of clients, and I have learned to distinguish those +which are premonitory of urgent cases. Such I judged the present ones +to be, and my judgment was confirmed by a hasty, importunate tattoo on +our small brass knocker. Regretfully taking the much-appreciated pipe +from my mouth, I crossed the room and threw the door open. + +“Good morning, Dr. Jervis,” said our visitor, a barrister whom I knew +slightly. “Is your colleague at home?” + +“No, Mr. Bidwell,” I replied. “I am sorry to say he is out of town. He +won’t be back until the day after to-morrow.” + +Mr. Bidwell was visibly disappointed. + +“Ha! Pity!” he exclaimed; and then with quick tact he added: “But +still, you are here. It comes to the same thing.” + +“I don’t know about that,” said I. “But, at any rate, I am at your +service.” + +“Thank you,” said he. “And in that case I will ask you to come round +with me at once to Tanfield Court. A most shocking thing has happened. +My old friend and neighbour, Giles Herrington, has been--well, he is +dead--died suddenly, and I think there can be no doubt that he was +killed. Can you come now? I will give you the particulars as we go.” + +I scribbled a hasty note to say where I had gone, and having laid it +on the table, got my hat and set forth with Mr. Bidwell. + +“It has only just been discovered,” said he, as we crossed King’s +Bench Walk. “The laundress who does his chambers and mine was +battering at my door when I arrived--I don’t live in the Temple, you +know. She was as pale as a ghost and in an awful state of alarm and +agitation. It seems that she had gone up to Herrington’s chambers to +get his breakfast ready as usual; but when she went into the +sitting-room she found him lying dead on the floor. Thereupon she +rushed down to my chambers--I am usually an early bird--and there I +found her, as I said, battering at my door, although she has a key. + +“Well, I went up with her to my friend’s chambers--they are on the +first floor, just over mine--and there, sure enough, was poor old +Giles lying on the floor, cold and stiff. Evidently he had been lying +there all night.” + +“Were there any marks of violence on the body?” I asked. + +“I didn’t notice any,” he replied, “but I didn’t look very closely. +What I did notice was that the place was all in disorder--a chair +overturned and things knocked off the table. It was pretty evident +that there had been a struggle and that he had not met his death by +fair means.” + +“And what do you want us to do?” I asked. + +“Well,” he replied, “I was Herrington’s friend; about the only friend +he had, for he was not an amiable or a sociable man; and I am the +executor of his will. + +“Appearances suggest very strongly that he has been murdered, and I +take it upon myself to see that his murderer is brought to account. +Our friendship seems to demand that. Of course, the police will go +into the affair, and if it turns out to be all plain sailing, there +will be nothing for you to do. But the murderer, if there is one, has +got to be secured and convicted, and if the police can’t manage it, I +want you and Thorndyke to see the case through. This is the place.” + +He hurried in through the entry and up the stairs to the first-floor +landing, where he rapped loudly at the closed “oak” of a set of +chambers above which was painted the name of “Mr. Giles Herrington.” + +After an interval, during which Mr. Bidwell repeated the summons, the +massive door opened and a familiar face looked out: the face of +Inspector Badger of the Criminal Investigation Department. The +expression that it bore was not one of welcome, and my experience of +the inspector caused me to brace myself up for the inevitable contest. + +“What is your business?” he inquired forbiddingly. + +Mr. Bidwell took the question to himself and replied: + +“I am Mr. Herrington’s executor, and in that capacity I have +instructed Dr. Jervis and his colleague, Dr. Thorndyke, to watch the +case on my behalf. I take it that you are a police officer?” + +“I am,” replied Badger, “and I can’t admit any unauthorized persons to +these chambers.” + +“We are not unauthorized persons,” said Mr. Bidwell. “We are here on +legitimate business. Do I understand that you refuse admission to the +legal representatives of the deceased man?” + +In the face of Mr. Bidwell’s firm and masterful attitude, Badger +began, as usual, to weaken. Eventually, having warned us to convey no +information to anybody, he grudgingly opened the door and admitted us. + +“I have only just arrived, myself,” he said. “I happened to be in the +porter’s lodge on other business when the laundress came and gave the +alarm.” + +As I stepped into the room and looked round, I saw at a glance the +clear indications of a crime. The place was in the utmost disorder. +The cloth had been dragged from the table, littering the floor with +broken glass, books, a tobacco jar, and various other objects. A chair +sprawled on its back, the fender was dislodged from its position, the +hearth-rug was all awry; and in the midst of the wreckage, on the +space of floor between the table and the fireplace, the body of a man +was stretched in a not uneasy posture. + +I stooped over him and looked him over searchingly; an elderly man, +clean-shaved and slightly bald, with a grim, rather forbidding +countenance, which was not, however, distorted or apparently unusual +in expression. There were no obvious injuries, but the crumpled state +of the collar caused me to look more closely at the throat and neck, +and I then saw pretty plainly a number of slightly discoloured marks, +such as would be made by fingers tightly grasping the throat. +Evidently Badger had already observed them, for he remarked: + +“There’s no need to ask you what he died of, doctor; I can see that +for myself.” + +“The actual cause of death,” said I, “is not quite evident. He doesn’t +appear to have died from suffocation, but those are very unmistakable +marks on the throat.” + +“Uncommonly,” agreed Badger; “and they are enough for my purpose +without any medical hair-splittings. How long do you think he has been +dead?” + +“From nine to twelve hours,” I replied, “but nearer nine, I should +think.” + +The inspector looked at his watch. + +“That makes it between nine o’clock and midnight, but nearer +midnight,” said he. “Well, we shall hear if the night porter has +anything to tell us. I’ve sent word for him to come over, and the +laundress, too. And here is one of ’em.” + +It was, in fact, both of them, for when the inspector opened the door, +they were discovered conversing eagerly in whispers. + +“One at a time,” said Badger. “I’ll have the porter in first;” and +having admitted the man, he unceremoniously shut the door on the +woman. The night porter saluted me as he came in--we were old +acquaintances--and then halted near the door, where he stood stiffly, +with his eyes riveted on the corpse. + +“Now,” said Badger, “I want you to try to remember if you let in any +strangers last night, and if so, what their business was.” + +“I remember quite well,” the porter replied. “I let in three strangers +while I was on duty. One was going to Mr. Bolter in Fig Tree Court, +one was going to Sir Alfred Blain’s chambers, and the third said he +had an appointment with Mr. Herrington.” + +“Ha!” exclaimed Badger, rubbing his hands. “Now, what time did you let +him in?” + +“It was just after ten-fifteen.” + +“Can you tell us what he was like and how he was dressed?” + +“Yes,” was the reply. “He didn’t know where Tanfield Court was, and I +had to walk down and show him, so I was able to have a good look at +him. He was a middle-sized man, rather thin, dark hair, small +moustache, no beard, and he had a long, sharp nose with a bump on the +bridge. He wore a soft felt hat, a loose light overcoat, and he +carried a thickish rough stick.” + +“What class of man was he? Seem to be a gentleman?” + +“He was quite a gentlemanly kind of man, so far as I could judge, but +he looked a bit shabby as to his clothes.” + +“Did you let him out?” + +“Yes. He came to the gate a few minutes before eleven.” + +“And did you notice anything unusual about him then?” + +“I did,” the porter replied impressively. “I noticed that his collar +was all crumpled and his hat was dusty and dented. His face was a bit +red, and he looked rather upset, as if he had been having a tussle +with somebody. I looked at him particularly and wondered what had been +happening, seeing that Mr. Herrington was a quiet, elderly gentleman, +though he was certainly a bit peppery at times.” + +The inspector took down these particulars gleefully in a large +note-book and asked: + +“Is that all you know of the affair?” And when the porter replied that +it was, he said: “Then I will ask you to read this statement and sign +your name below it.” + +The porter read through his statement and carefully signed his name at +the foot. He was about to depart when Badger said: + +“Before you go, perhaps you had better help us to move the body into +the bedroom. It isn’t decent to leave it lying there.” + +Accordingly the four of us lifted the dead man and carried him into +the bedroom, where we laid him on the undisturbed bed and covered him +with a rug. Then the porter was dismissed, with instructions to send +in Mrs. Runt. + +The laundress’s statement was substantially a repetition of what Mr. +Bidwell had told me. She had let herself into the chambers in the +usual way, had come suddenly on the dead body of the tenant, and had +forthwith rushed downstairs to give the alarm. When she had concluded, +the inspector stood for a few moments looking thoughtfully at his +notes. + +“I suppose,” he said presently, “you haven’t looked round these +chambers this morning? Can’t say if there is anything unusual about +them, or anything missing?” + +The laundress shook her head. + +“I was too upset,” she said, with another furtive glance at the place +where the corpse had lain; “but,” she added, letting her eyes roam +vaguely round the room, “there doesn’t seem to be anything missing, so +far as I can see--wait! Yes, there is. There’s something gone from +that nail on the wall; and it was there yesterday morning, because I +remember dusting it.” + +“Ha!” exclaimed Badger. “Now what was it that was hanging on that +nail?” + +“Well,” Mrs. Runt replied hesitatingly, “I really don’t know what it +was. Seemed like a sort of sword or dagger, but I never looked at it +particularly, and I never took it off its nail. I used to dust it as +it hung.” + +“Still,” said Badger, “you can give us some sort of description of it, +I suppose?” + +“I don’t know that I can,” she replied. “It had a leather case, and +the handle was covered with leather, I think, and it had a sort of +loop, and it used to hang on that nail.” + +“Yes, you said that before,” Badger commented sourly. “When you say it +had a case, do you mean a sheath?” + +“You can call it a sheath if you like,” she retorted, evidently +ruffled by the inspector’s manner, “I call it a case.” + +“And how big was it? How long, for instance?” + +Mrs. Runt held out her hands about a yard apart, looked at them +critically, shortened the interval to a foot, extended it to two, and +still varying the distance, looked vaguely at the inspector. + +“I should say it was about that,” she said. + +“About what?” snorted Badger. “Do you mean a foot or two feet or a +yard? Can’t you give us some idea?” + +“I can’t say no clearer than what I have,” she snapped. “I don’t go +round gentlemen’s chambers measuring the things.” + +It seemed to me that Badger’s questions were rather unnecessary, for +the wall-paper below the nail gave the required information. A +coloured patch on the faded ground furnished a pretty clear silhouette +of a broad-bladed sword or large dagger, about two feet six inches +long, which had apparently hung from the nail by a loop or ring at the +end of the handle. But it was not my business to point this out. I +turned to Bidwell and asked: + +“Can you tell us what the thing was?” + +“I am afraid I can’t,” he replied. “I have very seldom been in these +chambers. Herrington and I usually met in mine and went to the club. +I have a dim recollection of something hanging on that nail, but I +have not the least idea what it was or what it was like. But do you +think it really matters? The thing was almost certainly a curio of +some kind. It couldn’t have been of any appreciable value. It is +absurd, on the face of it, to suppose that this man came to +Herrington’s chambers, apparently by appointment, and murdered him for +the sake of getting possession of an antique sword or dagger. Don’t +you think so?” + +I did, and so, apparently, did the inspector, with the qualification +that “the thing seemed to have disappeared, and its disappearance +ought to be accounted for”; which was perfectly true, though I did not +quite see how the “accounting for” was to be effected. However, as the +laundress had told all that she knew, Badger gave her her dismissal +and she retired to the landing, where I noticed that the night porter +was still lurking. Mr. Bidwell also took his departure, and happening, +a few moments later, to glance out of the window, I saw him walking +slowly across the court, apparently conferring with the laundress and +the porter. + +As soon as we were alone, Badger assumed a friendly and confidential +manner and proceeded to give advice. + +“I gather that Mr. Bidwell wants you to investigate this case, but I +don’t fancy it is in your line at all. It is just a matter of tracing +that stranger and getting hold of him. Then we shall have to find out +what property there was on these premises. The laundress says that +there is nothing missing, but of course no one supposes that the man +came here to take the furniture. It is most probable that the motive +was robbery of some kind. There’s no sign of anything broken open; but +then, there wouldn’t be, as the keys were available.” + +Nevertheless he prowled round the room, examining every receptacle +that had a lock and trying the drawers of the writing table and of +what looked like a file cabinet. + +“You will have your work cut out,” I remarked, “to trace that man. The +porter’s description was pretty vague.” + +“Yes,” he replied; “there isn’t much to go on. That’s where you come +in,” he added with a grin, “with your microscopes and air-pumps and +things. Now if Dr. Thorndyke was here he would just sweep a bit of +dust from the floor and collect any stray oddments and have a good +look at them through his magnifier, and then we should know all about +it. Can’t you do a bit in that line? There’s plenty of dust on the +floor. And here’s a pin. Wonderful significant thing is a pin. And +here’s a wax vesta; now, that ought to tell you quite a lot. And here +is the end of a leather boot-lace--at least, that is what it looks +like. That must have come out of somebody’s boot. Have a look at it, +doctor, and see if you can tell me what kind of boot it came out of +and whose boot it was.” + +He laid the fragment, and the match, and the pin, on the table and +grinned at me somewhat offensively. Inwardly I resented his +impertinence--perhaps the more so since I realized that Thorndyke +would probably not have been so completely gravelled as I undoubtedly +was. But I considered it politic to take his clumsy irony in good +part, and even to carry on his elephantine joke. Accordingly, I picked +up the three “clues,” one after the other, and examined them gravely, +noting that the supposed boot-lace appeared to be composed of +whalebone or vulcanite. + +“Well, inspector,” I said, “I can’t give you the answer off-hand. +There’s no microscope here. But I will examine these objects at my +leisure and let you have the information in due course.” + +With that I wrapped them with ostentatious care in a piece of +note-paper and bestowed them in my pocket, a proceeding which the +inspector watched with a sour smile. + +“I’m afraid you’ll be too late,” said he. “Our men will probably pick +up the tracks while you are doing the microscope stunt. However, I +mustn’t stay here any longer. We can’t do anything until we know what +valuables there were on the premises; and I must have the body removed +and examined by the police surgeon.” + +He moved towards the door, and as I had no further business in the +rooms, I followed, and leaving him to lock up, I took my way back to +our chambers. + +When Thorndyke returned to town a couple of days later, I mentioned +the case to him. But what Badger had said appeared to be true. It was +a case of ascertaining the identity of the stranger who had visited +the dead man on that fatal night, and this seemed to be a matter for +the police rather than for us. So the case remained in abeyance until +the evening following the inquest, when Mr. Bidwell called on us, +accompanied by a Mr. Carston, whom he introduced as an old friend of +his and of Herrington’s family. + +“I have called,” he said, “to bring you a full report of the evidence +at the inquest. I had a shorthand writer there, and this is a typed +transcript of his notes. Nothing fresh transpired beyond what Dr. +Jervis knows and has probably told you, but I thought you had better +have all the information in writing.” + +“There is no clue as to who the suspicious visitor was, I suppose?” +said Thorndyke. + +“Not the slightest,” replied Bidwell. “The porter’s description is all +they have to go on, and of course it would apply to hundreds of +persons. But, in connexion with that, there is a question on which I +should like to take your opinion. Poor Herrington once mentioned to me +that he was subjected to a good deal of annoyance by a certain person +who from time to time applied to him for financial help. I gathered +that some sort of claim was advanced, and that the demands for money +were more or less of the nature of blackmail. Giles didn’t say who the +person was, but I got the impression that he was a relative. Now, my +friend Carston, who attended the inquest with me, noticed that the +porter’s description of the stranger would apply fairly well to a +nephew of Giles’s, whom he knows slightly and who is a somewhat shady +character; and the question that Carston and I have been debating is +whether these facts ought to be communicated to the police. It is a +serious matter to put a man under suspicion on such very slender data; +and yet----” + +“And yet,” said Carston, “the facts certainly fit the circumstances. +This fellow--his name is Godfrey Herrington--is a typical +ne’er-do-weel. Nobody knows how he lives. He doesn’t appear to do any +work. And then there is the personality of the deceased. I didn’t know +Giles Herrington very well, but I knew his brother, Sir Gilbert, +pretty intimately, and if Giles was at all like him, a catastrophe +might easily have occurred.” + +“What was Sir Gilbert’s special characteristic?” Thorndyke asked. + +“Unamiability,” was the reply. “He was a most cantankerous, +overbearing man, and violent at times. I knew him when I was at the +Colonial Office with him, and one of his official acts will show the +sort of man he was. You may remember it, Bidwell--the Bekwè affair. +There was some trouble in Bekwè, which is one of the minor kingdoms +bordering on Ashanti, and Sir Gilbert was sent out as a special +commissioner to settle it. And settle it he did with a vengeance. He +took up an armed force, deposed the king of Bekwè, seized the royal +stool, message stick, state sword, drums, and the other insignia of +royalty, and brought them away with him. And what made it worse was +that he treated these important things as mere loot: kept some of them +himself and gave away others as presents to his friends. + +“It was an intolerably high-handed proceeding, and it caused a rare +outcry. Even the Colonial Governor protested, and in the end the +Secretary of State directed the Governor to reinstate the king and +restore the stolen insignia, as these things went with the royal title +and were necessary for the ceremonies of re-instatement or the +accession of a new king.” + +“And were they restored?” asked Bidwell. + +“Most of them were. But just about this time Gilbert died, and as the +whereabouts of one or two of them were unknown, it was impossible to +collect them then. I don’t know if they have been found since.” + +Here Thorndyke led Mr. Carston back to the point from which he had +digressed. + +“You are suggesting that certain peculiarities of temper and +temperament on the part of the deceased might have some bearing on the +circumstances of his death.” + +“Yes,” said Carston. “If Giles Herrington was at all like his +brother--I don’t know whether he was----” here he looked inquiringly +at Bidwell, who nodded emphatically. + +“I should say he was, undoubtedly,” said he. “He was my friend, and I +was greatly attached to him; but to others, I must admit, he must have +appeared a decidedly morose, cantankerous, and irascible man.” + +“Very well,” resumed Carston. “If you imagine this cadging, +blackmailing wastrel calling on him and trying to squeeze him, and +then you imagine Herrington refusing to be squeezed and becoming +abusive and even violent, you have a fair set of antecedents for--for +what, in fact, did happen.” + +“By the way,” said Thorndyke, “what exactly did happen, according to +the evidence?” + +“The medical evidence,” replied Bidwell, “showed that the immediate +cause of death was heart failure. There were marks of fingers on the +throat, as you know, and various other bruises. It was evident that +deceased had been violently assaulted, but death was not directly due +to the injuries.” + +“And the finding of the jury?” asked Thorndyke. + +“Wilful murder, committed by some person unknown.” + +“It doesn’t appear to me,” said I, “that Mr. Carston’s suggestion has +much present bearing on the case. It is really a point for the +defence. But we are concerned with the identity of the unknown man.” + +“I am inclined to agree with Dr. Jervis,” said Bidwell. “We have got +to catch the hare before we go into culinary details.” + +“My point is,” said Carston, “that Herrington’s peculiar temper +suggests a set of circumstances that would render it probable that his +visitor was his nephew Godfrey.” + +“There is some truth in that,” Thorndyke agreed. “It is highly +speculative, but a reasonable speculation cannot be disregarded when +the known facts are so few. My feeling is that the police ought to be +informed of the existence of this man and his possible relations with +the deceased. As to whether he is or is not the suspected stranger, +that could be settled at once if he were confronted with the night +porter.” + +“Yes, that is true,” said Bidwell. “I think Carston and I had better +call at Scotland Yard and give the Assistant Commissioner a hint on +the subject. It will have to be a very guarded hint, of course.” + +“Was the question of motive raised?” Thorndyke asked. “As to robbery, +for instance.” + +“There is no evidence of robbery,” replied Bidwell. “I have been +through all the receptacles in the chambers, and everything seems +intact. The keys were in poor Giles’s pocket and nothing seems to have +been disturbed; indeed, it doesn’t appear that there was any portable +property of value on the premises.” + +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “the first thing that has to be done is to +establish the identity of the nocturnal visitor. That is the business +of the police. And if you call and tell them what you have told us, +they will, at least, have something to investigate. They should have +no difficulty in proving either that he is or is not the man whom the +porter let in at the gate; and until they have settled that question, +there is no need for us to take any action.” + +“Exactly,” said Bidwell, rising and taking up his hat. “If the police +can complete the case, there is nothing for us to do. However, I will +leave you the report of the inquest to look over at your leisure, and +will keep you informed as to how the case progresses.” + +When our two friends had gone, Thorndyke sat for some time turning +over the sheets of the report and glancing through the depositions of +the witnesses. Presently he remarked: + +“If it turns out that this man, Godfrey Herrington, is not the man +whom the porter let in, the police will be left in the air. Apart from +Bidwell’s purely speculative suggestion, there seems to be no clue +whatever to the visitor’s identity.” + +“Badger would like to hear you say that,” said I. “He was very +sarcastic respecting our methods of research,” and here I gave him an +account of my interview with the inspector, including the “clues” with +which he had presented me. + +“It was like his impudence,” Thorndyke commented smilingly, “to pull +the leg of my learned junior. Still, there was a germ of sense in what +he said. A collection of dust from the floor of that room, in which +two men had engaged in a violent struggle, would certainly yield +traces of both of them.” + +“Mixed up with the traces of a good many others,” I remarked. + +“True,” he admitted. “But that would not affect the value of a +positive trace of a particular individual. Supposing, for instance, +that Godfrey Herrington were known to have dyed hair; and suppose that +one or more dyed male hairs were found in the dust from the floor of +the room. That would establish a probability that he had been in that +room, and also that he was the person who had struggled with the +deceased.” + +“Yes, I see that,” said I. “Perhaps I ought to have collected some of +the dust. But it isn’t too late now, as Bidwell has locked up the +chambers. Meanwhile, let me present you with Badger’s clues. They came +off the floor.” + +I searched in my pocket and produced the paper packet, the existence +of which I had forgotten, and having opened it, offered it to him with +an ironical bow. He looked gravely at the little collection, and, +disregarding the pin and the match, picked out the third object and +examined it curiously. + +“That is the alleged boot-lace end,” he remarked. “It doesn’t do much +credit to Badger’s powers of observation. It is as unlike leather as +it could well be.” + +“Yes,” I agreed, “it is obviously whalebone or vulcanite.” + +“It isn’t vulcanite,” said he, looking closely at the broken end and +getting out his pocket lens for a more minute inspection. + +“What do you suppose it is?” I asked, my curiosity stimulated by the +evident interest with which he was examining the object. + +“We needn’t suppose,” he replied. “I fancy that if we get Polton to +make a cross section of it, the microscope will tell us what it is. I +will take it up to him now.” + +As he went out and I heard him ascending to the laboratory where our +assistant, Polton, was at work, I was conscious of a feeling of +vexation and a sense of failure. It was always thus. I had treated +this fragment with the same levity as had the inspector, just dropping +it into my pocket and forgetting it. Probably the thing was of no +interest or importance; but whether it was or not, Thorndyke would not +be satisfied until he knew for certain what it was. And that habit of +examining everything, of letting nothing pass without the closest +scrutiny, was one of the great secrets of his success as an +investigator. + +When he came down again I re-opened the subject. + +“It has occurred to me,” I said, “that it might be as well for us to +have a look at that room. My inspection was rather perfunctory, as +Badger was there.” + +“I have just been thinking the same,” he replied. “If Godfrey is not +the man, and the police are left stranded, Bidwell will look to us to +take up the inquiry, and by that time the room may have been +disturbed. I think we will get the key from Bidwell to-morrow morning +and make a thorough examination. And we may as well adopt Badger’s +excellent suggestion respecting the dust. I will instruct Polton to +come over with us and bring a full-sized vacuum-cleaner, and we can go +over what he collects at our leisure.” + +Agreeably to this arrangement, we presented ourselves on the following +morning at Mr. Bidwell’s chambers, accompanied by Polton, who, +however, being acutely conscious of the vacuum-cleaner which was +thinly disguised in brown paper, sneaked up the stairs and got out of +sight. Bidwell opened the door himself, and Thorndyke explained our +intentions to him. + +“Of course you can have the key,” he said, “but I don’t know that it +is worth your while to go into the matter. There have been +developments since I saw you last night. When Carston and I called at +Scotland Yard we found that we were too late. Godfrey Herrington had +come forward and made a voluntary statement.” + +“That was wise of him,” said Thorndyke, “but he would have been wiser +still to have notified the porter of what had happened and sent for a +doctor. He claims that the death was a misadventure, of course?” + +“Not at all,” replied Bidwell. “He states that when he left, Giles was +perfectly well; so well that he was able to kick him--Godfrey--down +the stairs and pitch him out on to the pavement. It seems, according +to his account, that he called to try to get some financial help from +his uncle. He admits that he was rather importunate and persisted +after Giles had definitely refused. Then Giles got suddenly into a +rage, thrust him out of the chambers, ran him down the stairs, and +threw him out into Tanfield Court. It is a perfectly coherent story, +and quite probable up to a certain point, but it doesn’t account for +the bruises on Giles’s body or the finger-marks on his throat.” + +“No,” agreed Thorndyke; “either he is lying, or he is the victim of +some very inexplicable circumstances. But I gather that you have no +further interest in the case?” + +Bidwell reflected. + +“Well,” he said, “I don’t know about that. Of course I don’t believe +him, but it is just possible that he is telling the truth. My feeling +is that, if he is guilty I want him convicted; but if by any chance he +is innocent--well, he is Giles’s nephew, and I suppose it is my duty +to see that he has a fair chance. Yes, I think I would like you to +watch the case independently--with a perfectly open mind, neither for +nor against. But I don’t see that there is much that you can do.” + +“Neither do I,” said Thorndyke. “But one can observe and note the +visible facts, if there are any. Has anything been done to the rooms?” + +“Nothing whatever,” was the reply. “They are just as Dr. Jervis and I +found them the morning after the catastrophe.” + +With this he handed Thorndyke the key and we ascended to the landing, +where we found Polton on guard with the vacuum-cleaner, like a sentry +armed with some new and unorthodox weapon. + +The appearance of the room was unchanged. The half-dislodged +table-cloth, the litter of broken glass on the floor, even the +displaced fender and hearth-rug, were just as I had last seen them. +Thorndyke looked about him critically and remarked: + +“The appearances hardly support Godfrey’s statement. There was clearly +a prolonged and violent struggle, not a mere ejectment. And look at +the table-cloth. The uncovered part of the table is that nearest the +door, and most of the things have fallen off at the end nearest the +fireplace. Obviously, the body that dislodged the cloth was moving +away from the door, not towards it, which again suggests something +more than an unresisted ejectment.” + +He again looked round, and his glance fell on the nail and the +coloured silhouette on the wall-paper. + +“That, I presume,” said he, “is where the mysterious sword or dagger +hung. It is rather large for a dagger and somewhat wide for a sword, +though barbaric swords are of all shapes and sizes.” + +He produced his spring tape and carefully measured the phantom shape +on the wall. “Thirty-one inches long,” he reported, “including the +loop at the end of the handle, by which it hung; seven and a half +inches at the top of the scabbard, tapering rather irregularly to +three inches at the tip. A curious shape. I don’t remember ever having +seen a sword quite like it.” + +Meanwhile Polton, having picked up the broken glass and other objects, +had uncovered the vacuum-cleaner and now started the motor--which was +driven by an attached dry battery--and proceeded very systematically +to trundle the machine along the floor. At every two or three sweeps +he paused to empty the receiver, placing the grey, felt-like mass on a +sheet of paper, with a pencilled note of the part of the room from +whence it came. The size of these masses of felted dust and the +astonishing change in the colour of the carpet that marked the trail +of the cleaner, suggested that Mrs. Runt’s activities had been of a +somewhat perfunctory character. Polton’s dredgings apparently +represented the accumulations of years. + +“Wonderful lot of hairs in this old dust,” Polton remarked as he +deposited a fresh consignment on the paper, “especially in this lot. +It came from under that looking-glass on the wall. Perhaps that +clothes brush that hangs under the glass accounts for it.” + +“Yes,” I agreed, “they will be hairs brushed off Mr. Herrington’s +collar and shoulders. But,” I added, taking the brush from its nail +and examining it, “Mrs. Runt seems to have used the glass, too. There +are three long hairs still sticking to the brush.” + +As Thorndyke was still occupied in browsing inquisitively round the +room, I proceeded to make a preliminary inspection of the heaps of +dust, picking out the hairs and other recognizable objects with my +pocket forceps, and putting them on a separate sheet of paper. Of the +former, the bulk were pretty obviously those of the late tenant--white +or dull black male hairs--but Mrs. Runt had contributed quite +liberally, for I picked out of the various heaps over a dozen long +hairs, the mousy brown colour of which seemed to identify them as +hers. The remainder were mostly ordinary male hairs of various +colours, eyebrow hairs and eyelashes, of no special interest, with one +exception. This was a black hair which lay flat on the paper in a +close coil, like a tiny watch-spring. + +“I wonder who this negro was,” said I, inspecting it through my lens. + +“Probably some African or West Indian Law student,” Thorndyke +suggested. “There are always a good many about the Inns of Court.” + +He came round to examine my collection, and while he was viewing the +negro hair with the aid of my lens, I renewed my investigations of the +little dust-heaps. Presently I made a new discovery. + +“Why,” I exclaimed, “here is another of Badger’s boot-laces--another +piece of the same one, I think. By the way, did you ascertain what +that boot-lace really was?” + +“Yes,” he replied. “Polton made a section of it and mounted it; and +furthermore, he made a magnified photograph of it. I have the +photograph in my pocket, so you can answer your own question.” + +He produced from his letter-case a half-plate print which he handed to +me and which I examined curiously. + +“It is a singular object,” said I, “but I don’t quite make it out. It +looks rather like a bundle of hairs embedded in some transparent +substance.” + +“That, in effect,” he replied, “is what it is. It is an elephant’s +hair, probably from the tail. But, as you see, it is a compound hair; +virtually a group of hairs agglutinated into a single stem. Most very +large hairs are compound. A tiger’s whiskers, for instance, are large, +stiff hairs which, if cut across, are seen to be formed of several +largish hairs fused together; and the colossal hair which grows on the +nose of the rhinoceros--the so-called nasal horn--is made up of +thousands of subordinate hairs.” + +“It is a remarkable-looking thing,” I said, handing back the +photograph; “very distinctive--if you happen to know what it is. But +the mystery is how on earth it came here. There are no elephants in +the Temple.” + +“I certainly haven’t noticed any,” he replied; “and, as you say, the +presence of an elephant’s hair in a room in the middle of London is a +rather remarkable circumstance. And yet, perhaps, if we consider all +the other circumstances, it may not be impossible to form a conjecture +as to how it came here. I recommend the problem to my learned friend +for consideration at his leisure; and now, as we have seen all that +there is to see--which is mighty little--we may as well leave Polton +to finish the collection of data from the floor. We can take your +little selection with us.” + +He folded the paper containing the hairs that I had picked out into a +neat packet, which he slipped into his pocket; then, having handed the +key of the outer door to Polton, for return to Mr. Bidwell, he went +out and I followed. We descended the stairs slowly, both of us deeply +reflective. As to the subject of his meditations I could form no +opinion, but my own were occupied by the problem which he had +suggested; and the more I reflected on it, the less capable of +solution did it appear. + +We had nearly reached the ground floor when I became aware of quick +footsteps descending the stairs behind us. Near the entry our follower +overtook us, and as we stood aside to let him pass, I had a brief +vision of a shortish, dapper, smartly-dressed coloured man--apparently +an African or West Indian--who carried a small suit-case and a set of +golf-clubs. + +“Now,” said I, in a low tone, “I wonder if that gentleman is the late +owner of that negro hair that I picked up. It seems intrinsically +probable as he appears to live in this building, and would be a near +neighbour of Herrington’s.” I halted at the entry and read out the +only name painted on the door-post as appertaining to the second +floor--Mr. Kwaku Essien, which, I decided, seemed to fit a gentleman +of colour. + +But Thorndyke was not listening. His long legs were already carrying +him, with a deceptively leisurely air, across Tanfield Court in the +wake of Mr. Essien, and at about the same pace. I put on a spurt and +overtook him, a little mystified by his sudden air of purpose and by +the fact that he was not walking in the direction of our chambers. +Still more mystified was I when it became clear that Thorndyke was +following the African and keeping at a constant distance in rear of +him; but I made no comment until, having pursued our quarry to the top +of Middle Temple Lane, we saw him hail a taxi and drive off. Then I +demanded an explanation. + +“I wanted to see him fairly out of the precincts,” was the reply, +“because I have a particular desire to see what his chambers are like. +I only hope his door has a practicable latch.” + +I stared at him in dismay. + +“You surely don’t contemplate breaking into his chambers!” I +exclaimed. + +“Certainly not,” he replied. “If the latch won’t yield to gentle +persuasion, I shall give it up. But don’t let me involve you, Jervis. +I admit that it is a slightly irregular proceeding.” + +“Irregular!” I repeated. “It is housebreaking, pure and simple. I can +only hope that you won’t be able to get in.” + +The hope turned out to be a vain one, as I had secretly feared. When +we had reconnoitred the stairs and established the encouraging fact +that the third floor was untenanted, we inspected the door above which +our victim’s name was painted; and a glance at the yawning +key-hole--diagnostic of an old-fashioned draw-latch--told me that the +deed was as good as done. + +“Now, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, producing from his pocket the curious +instrument that he described as a “smoker’s companion”--it was an +undeniable picklock, made by Polton under his direction--“you had +better clear out and wait for me at our chambers.” + +“I shall do nothing of the kind,” I replied. “I am an accessory before +the fact already, so I may as well stay and see the crime committed.” + +“Then in that case,” said he, “you had better keep a look-out from the +landing window and call me if anyone comes to the house. That will +make us perfectly safe.” + +I accordingly took my station at the window, and Thorndyke, having +knocked several times at the “oak” without eliciting any response, set +to work with the smoker’s companion. In less than a minute the latch +clicked, the outer door opened, and Thorndyke, pushing the inner door +open, entered, leaving both doors ajar. I was devoured by curiosity as +to what his purpose was. Obviously it must be a very definite one to +justify this most extraordinary proceeding. But I dared not leave my +post for a moment seeing that we were really engaged in a very serious +breach of the law, and it was of vital importance that we should not +be surprised in the act. I was therefore unable to observe my +colleague’s proceedings, and I waited impatiently to see if anything +came of this unlawful entry. + +I had waited thus some ten minutes, keeping a close watch on the +pavement below, when I heard Thorndyke quickly cross the room and +approach the door. A moment later he came out on the landing, bearing +in his hand an object which, while it enlightened me as to the purpose +of the raid, added to my mystification. + +“That looks like the missing sword from Herrington’s room!” I +exclaimed, gazing at it in amazement. + +“Yes,” he replied. “I found it in a drawer in the bedroom. Only it +isn’t a sword.” + +“Then, what the deuce is it?” I demanded, for the thing looked like a +broad-bladed sword in a soft leather scabbard of somewhat rude native +workmanship. + +By way of reply he slowly drew the object from its sheath, and as it +came into sight, I uttered an exclamation of astonishment. To the +inexpert eye it appeared an elongated body about nine inches in length +covered with coarse, black leather, from either side of which sprang a +multitude of what looked like thick, black wires. Above, it was +furnished with a leather handle which was surmounted by a suspension +loop of plaited leather. + +“I take it,” said I, “that this is an elephant’s tail.” + +“Yes,” he replied, “and a rather remarkable specimen. The hairs are of +unusual length. Some of them, you see, are nearly eighteen inches +long.” + +“And what are you going to do now?” I asked. + +“I am going to put it back where I found it. Then I shall run down to +Scotland Yard and advise Miller to get a search warrant. He is too +discreet to ask inconvenient questions.” + +I must admit that it was a great relief to me when, a minute later, +Thorndyke came out and shut the door; but I could not deny that the +raid had been justified by the results. What had, presumably, been a +mere surmise had been converted into a definite fact on which action +could confidently be taken. + +“I suppose,” said I, as we walked down towards the Embankment en route +for Scotland Yard, “I ought to have spotted this case.” + +“You had the means,” Thorndyke replied. “At your first visit you +learned that an object of some kind had disappeared from the wall. It +seemed to be a trivial object of no value, and not likely to be +connected with the crime. So you disregarded it. But it had +disappeared. Its disappearance was not accounted for, and that +disappearance seemed to coincide in time with the death of Herrington. +It undoubtedly called for investigation. Then you found on the floor +an object the nature of which was unknown to you. Obviously, you ought +to have ascertained what it was.” + +“Yes, I ought,” I admitted, “though I am not sure that I should have +been much forrarder even then. In fact, I am not so very much +forrarder even now. I don’t see how you spotted this man Essien, and I +don’t understand why he took all this trouble and risk and even +committed a murder to get possession of this trumpery curio. Of course +I can make a vague guess. But I should like to hear how you ran the +man and the thing to earth.” + +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “Let me retrace the train of discoveries +and inferences in their order. First I learned that an object, +supposed to be a barbaric sword of some kind, had disappeared about +the time of the murder--if it _was_ a murder. Then we heard from +Carston that Sir Gilbert Herrington had appropriated the insignia and +ceremonial objects belonging to the King of Bekwè; that some had +subsequently been restored, but others had been given to friends as +curios. As I listened to that story, the possibility occurred to me +that this curio which had disappeared might be one of the missing +ceremonial objects. It was not only possible: it was quite probable. +For Giles Herrington was a very likely person to have received one of +these gifts, and his morose temper made it unlikely that he would +restore it. And then, since such an object would be of great value to +somebody, and since it was actually stolen property, there would be +good reasons why some interested person should take forcible +possession of it. This, of course, was mere hypothesis of a rather +shadowy kind. But when you produced an object which I at once +suspected, and then proved, to be an elephant’s hair, the hypothesis +became a reasonable working theory. For, among the ceremonial objects +which form what we may call the regalia of a West African king, is the +elephant’s tail which is carried before him by a special officer as a +symbol of his power and strength. An elephant’s tail had pretty +certainly been stolen from the king, and Carston said nothing about +its having been restored. + +“Well, when we went to Herrington’s chambers just now, it was clear to +me that the thing which had disappeared was certainly not a sword. The +phantom shape on the wall did not show much, but it did show plainly +that the object had hung from the nail by a large loop at the end of +the handle. But the suspension loop of a sword or dagger is always on +the scabbard, never on the hilt. But if the thing was not a sword, +what was it? The elephant’s hair that you found on the floor seemed to +answer the question. + +“Now, as we came in, I had noticed on the door-post the West African +name, Kwaku Essien. A man whose name is Kwaku is pretty certainly a +negro. But if this was an elephant’s tail, its lawful owner was a +negro, and that owner wanted to recover it and was morally entitled to +take possession of it. Here was another striking agreement. The +chambers over Herrington’s were occupied by a negro. Finally, you +found among the floor dust a negro’s hair. Then a negro had actually +been in this room. But from what we know of Herrington, that negro was +not there as an invited visitor. All the probabilities pointed to Mr. +Essien. But the probabilities were not enough to act on. Then we had a +stroke of sheer luck. We got the chance to explore Essien’s chambers +and seek the crucial fact. But here we are at Scotland Yard.” + + +That night, at about eight o’clock, a familiar tattoo on our knocker +announced the arrival of Mr. Superintendent Miller, not entirely +unexpected, as I guessed. + +“Well,” he said, as I let him in, “the coloured nobleman has come +home. I’ve just had a message from the man who was detailed to watch +the premises.” + +“Are you going to make the arrest now?” asked Thorndyke. + +“Yes, and I should be glad if you could come across with me. You know +more about the case than I do.” + +Thorndyke assented at once, and we set forth together. As we entered +Tanfield Court we passed a man who was lurking in the shadow of an +entry, and who silently indicated the lighted windows of the chambers +for which we were bound. Ascending the stairs up which I had lately +climbed with unlawful intent, we halted at Mr. Essien’s door, on which +the superintendent executed an elaborate flourish with his stick, +there being no knocker. After a short interval we heard a bolt +withdrawn, the door opened a short distance, and in the interval a +black face appeared, looking out at us suspiciously. + +“Who are you, and what do you want?” the owner of the face demanded +gruffly. + +“You are Mr. Kwaku Essien, I think?” said Miller, unostentatiously +insinuating his foot into the door opening. + +“Yes,” was the reply. “But I don’t know you. What is your business?” + +“I am a police officer,” Miller replied, edging his foot in a little +farther, “and I hold a warrant to arrest you on the charge of having +murdered Mr. Giles Herrington.” + +Before the superintendent had fairly finished his sentence, the dusky +face vanished and the door slammed violently--on to the +superintendent’s massive foot. That foot was instantly reinforced by a +shoulder and for a few moments there was a contest of forces, opposite +but not equal. Suddenly the door flew open and the superintendent +charged into the room. I had a momentary vision of a flying figure, +closely pursued, darting through into an inner room, of the slamming +of a second door--once more on an intercepting foot. And then--it all +seemed to have happened in a few seconds--a dejected figure, sitting +on the edge of a bed, clasping a pair of manacled hands and watching +Miller as he drew the elephant’s tail out of a drawer in the dressing +chest. + +“This--er--article,” said Miller, “belonged to Mr. Herrington, and was +stolen from his premises on the night of the murder.” + +Essien shook his head emphatically. + +“No,” he replied. “You are wrong. I stole nothing, and I did not +murder Mr. Herrington. Listen to me and I will tell you all about it.” + +Miller administered the usual caution and the prisoner continued: + +“This elephant-brush is one of many things stolen, years ago, from the +king of Bekwè. Some of those things--most of them--have been +restored, but this could not be traced for a long time. At last it +became known to me that Mr. Herrington had it, and I wrote to him +asking him to give it up and telling him who I was--I am the eldest +living son of the king’s sister, and therefore, according to our law, +the heir to the kingdom. But he would not give it up or even sell it. +Then, as I am a student of the Inn, I took these chambers above his, +intending, when I had an opportunity, to go in and take possession of +my uncle’s property. The opportunity came that night that you have +spoken of. I was coming up the stairs to my chambers when, as I passed +his door, I heard loud voices inside as of people quarrelling. I had +just reached my own door and opened it when I heard his door open, and +then a great uproar and the sound of a struggle. I ran down a little +way and looked over the banisters, and then I saw him thrusting a man +across the landing and down the lower stairs. As they disappeared, I +ran down, and finding his door ajar, I went in to recover my property. +It took me a little time to find it, and I had just taken it from the +nail and was going out with it when, at the door, I met Mr. Herrington +coming in. He was very excited already, and when he saw me he seemed +to go mad. I tried to get past him, but he seized me and dragged me +back into the room, wrenching the thing out of my hand. He was very +violent. I thought he wanted to kill me, and I had to struggle for my +life. Suddenly he let go his hold of me, staggered back a few paces, +and then fell on the floor. I stooped over him, thinking that he was +taken ill, and wondering what I had better do. But soon I saw that he +was not ill; he was dead. Then I was very frightened. I picked up the +elephant-brush and put it back into its case, and I went out very +quietly, shut the door, and ran up to my rooms. That is what happened. +There was no robbery and murder.” + + +“Well,” said Miller, as the prisoner and his escort disappeared +towards the gate, “I suppose, in a technical sense, it is murder, but +they are hardly likely to press the charge.” + +“I don’t think it is even technically,” said Thorndyke. “My feeling is +that he will be acquitted if he is sent for trial. Meanwhile, I take +it that my client, Godfrey Herrington, will be released from custody +at once.” + +“Yes, doctor,” replied Miller, “I will see to that now. He has had +better luck than he deserved, I suspect, in having his case looked +after by you. I don’t fancy he would have got an acquittal if he had +gone for trial.” + +Thorndyke’s forecast was nearly correct, but there was no acquittal, +since there was no trial. The case against Kwaku Essien never got +farther than the Grand Jury. + + + + + VIII. + THE PATHOLOGIST TO THE RESCUE + +“I hope,” said I, as I looked anxiously out of our window up King’s +Bench Walk, “that our friend, Foxley, will turn up to time, or I shall +lose the chance of hearing his story. I must be in court by half-past +eleven. The telegram said that he was a parson, didn’t it?” + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “The Reverend Arthur Foxley.” + +“Then perhaps this may be he. There is a parson crossing from the Row +in this direction, only he has a girl with him. He didn’t say anything +about a girl, did he?” + +“No. He merely asked for the appointment. However,” he added, as he +joined me at the window and watched the couple approaching with their +eyes apparently fixed on the number above our portico, “this is +evidently our client, and punctual to the minute.” + +In response to the old-fashioned flourish on our little knocker, he +opened the inner door and invited the clergyman and his companion to +enter; and while the mutual introductions were in progress, I looked +critically at our new clients. Mr. Foxley was a typical and favourable +specimen of his class: a handsome, refined, elderly gentleman, prim as +to his speech, suave and courteous in bearing, with a certain engaging +simplicity of manner which impressed me very favourably. His companion +I judged to be a parishioner, for she was what ladies are apt to +describe as “not quite”; that is to say, her social level appeared to +appertain to the lower strata of the middle-class. But she was a fine, +strapping girl, very sweet-faced and winsome, quiet and gentle in +manner and obviously in deep trouble, for her clear grey eyes--fixed +earnestly, almost devouringly, on Thorndyke--were reddened and +swimming with unshed tears. + +“We have sought your aid, Dr. Thorndyke,” the clergyman began, “on the +advice of my friend, Mr. Brodribb, who happened to call on me on some +legal business. He assured me that you would be able to solve our +difficulties if it were humanly possible, so I have come to lay those +difficulties before you. I pray to God that you may be able to help +us, for my poor young friend here, Miss Markham, is in a most terrible +position, as you will understand when I tell you that her future +husband, a most admirable young man named Robert Fletcher, is in the +custody of the police, charged with robbery and murder.” + +Thorndyke nodded gravely, and the clergyman continued: + +“I had better tell you exactly what has happened. The dead man is one +Joseph Riggs, a maternal uncle of Fletcher’s, a strange, eccentric +man, solitary, miserly, and of a violent, implacable temper. He was +quite well-to-do, though penurious and haunted constantly by an absurd +fear of poverty. His nephew, Robert, was apparently his only known +relative, and, under his will, was his sole heir. Recently, however, +Robert has become engaged to my friend, Miss Lilian, and this +engagement was violently opposed by his uncle, who had repeatedly +urged him to make, what he called a profitable marriage. For Miss +Lilian is a dowerless maiden--dowerless save for those endowments with +which God has been pleased to enrich her, and which her future husband +has properly prized above mere material wealth. However, Riggs +declared, in his brutal way, that he was not going to leave his +property to the husband of a shop-woman, and that Robert might look +out for a wife with money or be struck out of his will. + +“The climax was reached yesterday when Robert, in response to a +peremptory summons, went to see his uncle. Mr. Riggs was in a very +intractable mood. He demanded that Robert should break off his +engagement unconditionally and at once, and when Robert bluntly +insisted on his right to choose his own wife the old man worked +himself up into a furious rage, shouting, cursing, using the most +offensive language and even uttering threats of personal violence. +Finally, he drew his gold watch from his pocket and laid it with its +chain on the table; then, opening a drawer, he took out a bundle of +bearer bonds and threw them down by the watch. + +“‘There, my friend,’ said he, ‘that is your inheritance. That is all +you will get from me, living or dead. Take it and go, and don’t let me +ever set eyes on you again.’ + +“At first Robert refused to accept the gift, but his uncle became so +violent that eventually, for peace’ sake, he took the watch and the +bonds, intending to return them later, and went away. He left at +half-past five, leaving his uncle alone in the house.” + +“How was that?” Thorndyke asked. “Was there no servant?” + +“Mr. Riggs kept no resident servant. The young woman who did his +housework came at half-past eight in the morning and left at half-past +four. Yesterday she waited until five to get tea ready, but then, as +the uproar in the sitting-room was still unabated, she thought it best +to go. She was afraid to go in to lay the tea-things. + +“This morning, when she arrived at the house, she found the front door +unlocked, as it always was during the day. On entering, her attention +was at once attracted by two or three little pools of blood on the +floor of the hall, or passage. Somewhat alarmed by this, she looked +into the sitting-room, and finding no one there, and being impressed +by the silence in the house, she went along the passage to a back +room--a sort of study or office, which was usually kept locked when +Mr. Riggs was not in it. Now, however, it was unlocked and the door +was ajar; so having first knocked and receiving no answer, she pushed +open the door and looked in; and there, to her horror, she saw her +employer lying on the floor, apparently dead, with a wound on the side +of his head and a pistol on the floor by his side. + +“Instantly she turned and rushed out of the house, and she was running +up the street in search of a policeman when she encountered me at a +corner and burst out with her dreadful tidings. I walked with her to +the police station, and as we went she told me what had happened on +the previous afternoon. Naturally, I was profoundly shocked and also +alarmed, for I saw that--rightly or wrongly--suspicion must +immediately fall on Robert Fletcher. The servant, Rose Turnmill, took +it for granted that he had murdered her master; and when we found the +station inspector and Rose had repeated her statement to him, it was +evident that he took the same view. + +“With him and a sergeant, we went back to the house; but on the way we +met Mr. Brodribb, who was staying at the ‘White Lion’ and had just +come out for a walk. I told him, rapidly, what had occurred and begged +him to come with us, which, with the inspector’s consent, he did; and +as we walked I explained to him the awful position that Robert +Fletcher might be placed in, and asked him to advise me what to do. +But, of course, there was nothing to be said or done until we had seen +the body and knew whether any suspicion rested on Robert. + +“We found the man Riggs lying, as Rose had said. He was quite dead, +cold and stiff. There was a pistol wound on the right temple, and a +pistol lay on the floor at his right side. A little blood--but not +much--had trickled from the wound and lay in a small pool on the +oil-cloth. The door of an iron safe was open and a bunch of keys hung +from the lock; and on a desk one or two share certificates were spread +out. On searching the dead man’s pockets it was found that the gold +watch which the servant told us he usually carried was missing, and +when Rose went to the bedroom to see if it was there, it was nowhere +to be found. + +“Apart from the watch, however, the appearances suggested that the man +had taken his own life. But against this view was the blood on the +hall floor. The dead man appeared to have fallen at once from the +effects of the shot, and there had been very little bleeding. Then how +came the blood in the hall? The inspector decided that it could not +have been the blood of the deceased; and when we examined it and saw +that there were several little pools and that they seemed to form a +track towards the street door, he was convinced that the blood had +fallen from some person who had been wounded and was escaping from the +house. And, under the circumstances, he was bound to assume that that +person was Robert Fletcher; and on that assumption, he despatched the +sergeant forthwith to arrest Robert. + +“On this I held a consultation with Mr. Brodribb, who pointed out that +the case turned principally on the blood in the hall. If it was the +blood of deceased, and the absence of the watch could be explained, a +verdict of suicide could be accepted. But if it was the blood of some +other person, that fact would point to murder. The question, he said, +would have to be settled, if possible, and his advice to me, if I +believed Robert to be innocent--which, from my knowledge of him, I +certainly did--was this: Get a couple of small, clean, labelled +bottles from a chemist and--with the inspector’s consent--put in one a +little of the blood from the hall and in the other some of the blood +of the deceased. Seal them both in the inspector’s presence and mine +and take them up to Dr. Thorndyke. If it is possible to answer the +question, Are they or are they not from the same person? he will +answer it. + +“Well, the inspector made no objection, so I did what he advised. And +here are the specimens. I trust they may tell us what we want to +know.” + +Here Mr. Foxley took from his attaché-case a small cardboard box, and +opening it, displayed two little wide-mouthed bottles carefully packed +in cotton wool. Lifting them out tenderly, he placed them on the table +before Thorndyke. They were both neatly corked, sealed--with +Brodribb’s seal, as I noticed--and labelled; the one inscribed “Blood +of Joseph Riggs,” and the other “Blood of unknown origin,” and both +signed “Arthur Foxley” and dated. At the bottom of each was a small +mass of gelatinous blood-clot. + +Thorndyke looked a little dubiously at the two bottles, and addressing +the clergyman, said: + +“I am afraid Mr. Brodribb has rather overestimated our resources. +There is no known method by which the blood of one person can be +distinguished with certainty from that of another.” + +“Dear, dear!” exclaimed Mr. Foxley. “How disappointing! Then these +specimens are useless, after all?” + +“I won’t say that; but it is in the highest degree improbable that +they will yield any information. You must build no expectations on +them.” + +“But you will examine them and see if anything is to be gleaned,” the +parson urged, persuasively. + +“Yes, I will examine them. But you realize that if they should yield +any evidence, that evidence might be unfavourable?” + +“Yes; Mr. Brodribb pointed that out, but we are willing to take the +risk, and so, I may say, is Robert Fletcher, to whom I put the +question.” + +“Then you have seen Mr. Fletcher since the discovery?” + +“Yes, I saw him at the police station after his arrest. It was then +that he gave me--and also the police--the particulars that I have +repeated to you. He had to make a statement, as the dead man’s watch +and the bonds were found in his possession.” + +“With regard to the pistol. Has it been identified?” + +“No. It is an old-fashioned derringer which no one has ever seen +before, so there is no evidence as to whose property it was.” + +“And as to those share certificates which you spoke of as lying on the +desk. Do you happen to remember what they were?” + +“Yes, they were West African mining shares; Abusum Pa-pa was the name, +I think.” + +“Then,” said Thorndyke,” Mr. Riggs had been losing money. The Abusum +Pa-pa Company has just gone into liquidation. Do you know if anything +had been taken from the safe?” + +“It is impossible to say, but apparently not, as there was a good deal +of money in the cash-box, which we unlocked and inspected. But we +shall hear more to-morrow at the inquest, and I trust we shall hear +something there from you. But in any case I hope you will attend to +watch the proceedings on behalf of poor Fletcher. And if possible, to +be present at the autopsy at eleven o’clock. Can you manage that?” + +“Yes. And I shall come down early enough to make an inspection of the +premises if the police will give the necessary facilities.” + +Mr. Foxley thanked him effusively, and when the details as to the +trains had been arranged, our clients rose to depart. Thorndyke shook +their hands cordially, and as he bade farewell to Miss Markham he +murmured a few words of encouragement. She looked up at him gratefully +and appealingly as she naïvely held his hand. + +“You will try to help us, Dr. Thorndyke, won’t you?” she urged. “And +you will examine that blood very, very carefully. Promise that you +will. Remember that poor Robert’s life may hang upon what you can tell +about it.” + +“I realize that, Miss Markham,” he replied gently, “and I promise you +that the specimens shall be most thoroughly examined; and further, +that no stone shall be left unturned in my endeavours to bring the +truth to light.” + +At his answer, spoken with infinite kindliness and sympathy, her eyes +filled and she turned away with a few broken words of thanks, and the +good clergyman--himself not unmoved by the little episode--took her +arm and led her to the door. + +“Well,” I remarked as their retreating footsteps died away, “old +Brodribb’s enthusiasm seems to have let you in for a queer sort of +task; and I notice that you appear to have accepted Fletcher’s +statement.” + +“Without prejudice,” he replied. “I don’t know Fletcher, but the +balance of probabilities is in his favour. Still, that blood-track in +the hall is a curious feature. It certainly requires explanation.” + +“It does, indeed!” I exclaimed, “and you have got to find the +explanation! Well, I wish you joy of the job. I suppose you will carry +out the farce to the bitter end as you have promised?” + +“Certainly,” he replied. “But it is hardly a farce. I should have +looked the specimens over in any case. One never knows what +illuminating fact a chance observation may bring into view.” + +I smiled sceptically. + +“The fact that you are asked to ascertain is that these two samples of +blood came from the same person. If there are any means of proving +that, they are unknown to me. I should have said it was an +impossibility.” + +“Of course,” he rejoined, “you are quite right, speaking academically +and in general terms. No method of identifying the blood of individual +persons has hitherto been discovered. But yet I can imagine the +possibility, in particular and exceptional cases, of an actual, +personal identification by means of blood. What does my learned friend +think?” + +“He thinks that his imagination is not equal to the required effort,” +I answered; and with that I picked up my brief bag and went forth to +my duties at the courts. + +That Thorndyke would keep his promise to poor Lilian Markham was a +foregone conclusion, preposterous as the examination seemed. But even +my long experience of my colleague’s scrupulous conscientiousness had +not prepared me for the spectacle which met my eyes when I returned to +our chambers. On the table stood the microscope, flanked by three +slide-boxes. Each box held six trays, and each tray held six slides--a +hundred and eight slides in all! + +But why three boxes? I opened one. The slides--carefully mounted +blood-films--were labelled “Joseph Riggs.” Those in the second box +were labelled, “Blood from hall floor.” But when I opened the third +box, I beheld a collection of empty slides labelled “Robert Fletcher”! + +I chuckled aloud. Prodigious! Thorndyke was going even one better than +his promise. He was not only going to examine--probably had +examined--the two samples produced; he was actually going to collect a +third sample for himself! + +I picked out one of Mr. Riggs’s slides and laid it on the stage of the +microscope. Thorndyke seemed to have been using a low-power +objective--the inch-and-a-half. After a glance through this, I swung +round the nose-piece to the high power. And then I got a further +surprise. The brightly-coloured “white” corpuscles showed that +Thorndyke had actually been to the trouble of staining the films with +eosin! Again I murmured, “Prodigious!” and put the slide back in its +box. For, of course, it showed just what one expected: blood--or +rather, broken-up blood-clot. From its appearance, I could not even +have sworn that it was human blood. + +I had just closed the box when Thorndyke entered the room. His quick +eye at once noted the changed objective and he remarked: + +“I see you have been having a look at the specimens.” + +“A specimen,” I corrected. “Enough is as good as a feast.” + +“Blessed are they who are easily satisfied,” he retorted; and then he +added: “I have altered my arrangements, though I needn’t interfere +with yours. I shall go down to Southaven to-night; in fact, I am +starting in a few minutes.” + +“Why?” I asked. + +“For several reasons. I want to make sure of the post-mortem to-morrow +morning, I want to pick up any further facts that are available, and +finally, I want to prepare a set of blood-films from Robert Fletcher. +We may as well make the series complete,” he added with a smile, to +which I replied by a broad grin. + +“Really, Thorndyke,” I protested, “I’m surprised at you, at your age, +too. She is a nice girl, but she isn’t so beautiful as to justify a +hundred and eight blood-films.” + +I accompanied him to the taxi, followed by Polton, who carried his +modest luggage, and then returned to speculate on his probable plan of +campaign. For, of course, he had one. His purposive, resolute manner +told me that he had seen farther into this case than I had. I accepted +that as natural and inevitable. Indeed, I may admit that my +disrespectful badinage covered a belief in his powers hardly second +even to old Brodribb’s. I was, in fact, almost prepared to discover +that those preposterous blood-films had, after all, yielded some +“illuminating fact” which had sent him hurrying down to Southaven in +search of corroboration. + +When I alighted from the train on the following day at a little past +noon, I found him waiting on the platform, ready to conduct me to his +hotel for an early lunch. + +“All goes well, so far,” he reported. “I attended the post-mortem, and +examined the wound thoroughly. The pistol was held in the right hand +not more than two inches from the head; probably quite close, for the +skin is scorched and heavily tattooed with black powder grains. I find +that Riggs was right-handed. So the prima facie probabilities are in +favour of suicide; and the recent loss of money suggests a reasonable +motive.” + +“But what about that blood in the hall?” + +“Oh, we have disposed of that. I completed the blood-film series last +night.” + +I looked at him quickly to see if he was serious or only playing a +facetious return-shot. But his face was as a face of wood. + +“You are an exasperating old devil, Thorndyke!” I exclaimed with +conviction. Then, knowing that cross-examination would be futile, I +asked: + +“What are we going to do after lunch?” + +“The inspector is going to show us over ‘the scene of the tragedy,’ as +the newspapers would express it.” + +I noted gratefully that he had reserved this item for me, and +dismissed professional topics for the time being, concentrating my +attention on the old-world, amphibious streets through which we were +walking. There is always something interesting in the aspect of a +sea-port town, even if it is only a small one like Southaven. + +The inspector arrived with such punctuality that he found us still at +the table and was easily induced to join us with a cup of coffee and +to accept a cigar--administered by Thorndyke, as I suspected, with the +object of hindering conversation. I could see that his interest in my +colleague was intense and not unmingled with awe, a fact which, in +conjunction with the cigar, restrained him from any undue +manifestations of curiosity, but not from continuous, though furtive, +observation of my friend. Indeed, when we arrived at the late Mr. +Riggs’s house, I was secretly amused by the close watch that he kept +on Thorndyke’s movements, unsensational as the inspection turned out +to be. + +The house, itself, presented very little of interest excepting its +picturesque, old-world exterior, which fronted on a quiet by-street +and was furnished with a deep bay-window, which--as Thorndyke +ascertained--commanded a clear view of the street from end to end. It +was a rather shabby, neglected little house, as might have been +expected, and our examination of it yielded, so far as I could see, +only a single fact of any significance: which was that there appeared +to be no connexion whatever between the blood-stain on the study floor +and the train of large spots from the middle of the hall to the street +door. And on this piece of evidence--definitely unfavourable from our +point of view--Thorndyke concentrated his attention when he had made a +preliminary survey. + +Closely followed by the watchful inspector, he browsed round the +little room, studying every inch of the floor between the blood-stain +and the door. The latter he examined minutely from top to bottom, +especially as to the handle, the jambs, and the lintel. Then he went +out into the hall, scrutinizing the floor inch by inch, poring over +the walls and even looking behind the framed prints that hung on them. +A reflector lamp suspended by a nail on the wall received minute and +prolonged attention, as did also a massive lamp-hook screwed into one +of the beams of the low ceiling, of which Thorndyke remarked as he +stooped to pass under it, that it must have been fixed there by a +dwarf. + +“Yes,” the inspector agreed, “and a fool. A swinging lamp hung on that +hook would have blocked the whole fairway. There isn’t too much room +as it is. What a pity we weren’t a bit more careful about footprints +in this place. There are plenty of tracks of wet feet here on this +oil-cloth; faint, but you could have made them out all right if they +hadn’t been all on top of one another. There’s Mr. Foxley’s, the +girl’s, mine, and the men who carried out the body, but I’m hanged if +I can tell which is which. It’s a regular mix up.” + +“Yes,” I agreed, “it is all very confused. But I notice one rather odd +thing. There are several faint traces of a large right foot, but I +can’t see any sign of the corresponding left foot. Can you?” + +“Perhaps this is it,” said Thorndyke, pointing to a large, vague oval +mark. “I have noticed that it seems to occur in some sort of connexion +with the big right foot; but I must admit that it is not a very +obvious footprint.” + +“I shouldn’t have taken it for a footprint at all, or at any rate, not +a human footprint. It is more like the spoor of some big animal.” + +“It is,” Thorndyke agreed; “but whatever it is, it seems to have been +here before any of the others arrived. You notice that wherever it +occurs, it seems to have been trodden on by some of the others.” + +“Yes, I had noticed that, and the same is true of the big right foot, +so it seems probable that they are connected, as you say. But I am +hanged if I can make anything of it. Can you, inspector?” + +The inspector shook his head. He could not recognize the mark as a +footprint, but he could see very plainly that he had been a fool not +to have taken more care to protect the floor. + +When the examination of the hall was finished, Thorndyke opened the +door and looked at the big, flat doorstep. + +“What was the weather like, here, on Wednesday evening?” he asked. + +“Showery,” the inspector replied; “and there were one or two heavy +showers during the night. You were noticing that there are no +blood-tracks on the doorstep. But there wouldn’t be in any case; for +if a man had come out of this door dropping blood, the blood would +have dropped on wet stone and got washed away at once.” + +Thorndyke admitted the truth of this; and so another item of +favourable evidence was extinguished. The overwhelming probability +that the blood in the hall was that of some person other than the +deceased remained undisturbed; and I could not see that a single fact +had been elicited by our inspection of the house that was in any way +helpful to our client. Indeed, it appeared to me that there was +absolutely no case for the defence, and I even asked myself whether we +were not, in fact, merely trying to fudge up a defence for an +obviously guilty man. It was not like Thorndyke to do that. But how +did the case stand? There was a suggestion of suicide, but a clear +possibility of homicide. There was strong evidence that a second +person had been in the house, and that person appeared to have +received a wound. But a wound suggested a struggle; and the servant’s +evidence was to the effect that when she left the house a violent +altercation was in progress. The deceased was never again seen alive; +and the other party to the quarrel had been found with property of the +dead man in his possession. Moreover, there was a clear motive for the +crime, stupid as that crime was. For the dead man had threatened to +revoke his will; but as he had presumably not done so, his death left +the will still operative. In short, everything pointed to the guilt of +our client, Robert Fletcher. + +I had just reached this not very gratifying conclusion when a +statement of Thorndyke’s shattered my elaborate summing up into +impalpable fragments. + +“I suppose, sir,” said the inspector, “there isn’t anything that you +would care to tell us, as you are for the defence. But we are not +hostile to Fletcher. In fact, he hasn’t been charged. He is only being +detained in custody until we have heard what turns up at the inquest. +I know you have examined that blood that Mr. Foxley took, and +Fletcher’s blood, too, and you’ve seen the premises. We have given all +the facilities that we could, and if you could give us any sort of +hint that might be useful--well, I should be very much obliged.” + +Thorndyke reflected for a few moments. Then he replied: + +“There is no reason for secrecy in regard to you, inspector, who have +been so helpful and friendly, so I will be quite frank. I have +examined both samples of blood and Fletcher’s, and I have inspected +the premises, and what I am able to say definitely is this: the blood +in the hall is not the blood of the deceased----” + +“Ah!” exclaimed the inspector, “I was afraid it wasn’t.” + +“And it is not the blood of Robert Fletcher.” + +“Isn’t it now! Well, I am glad to hear that.” + +“Moreover,” continued Thorndyke, “it was shed well after nine o’clock +at night, probably not earlier than midnight.” + +“There, now!” the inspector exclaimed, with an admiring glance at +Thorndyke, “just think of that. See what it is to be a man of science! +I suppose, sir, you couldn’t give us any sort of description of the +person who dropped that blood in the hall?” + +Staggered as I had been by Thorndyke’s astonishing statements, I could +not repress a grin at the inspector’s artless question. But the grin +faded rather abruptly as Thorndyke replied in matter-of-fact tones: + +“A detailed description is, of course, impossible. I can only sketch +out the probabilities. But if you should happen to meet with a +negro--a tall negro with a bandaged head or a contused wound of the +scalp and a swollen leg--you had better keep your eye on him. The leg +which is swollen is probably the left.” + +The inspector was thrilled; and so was I, for that matter. The thing +was incredible; but yet I knew that Thorndyke’s amazing deductions +were the products of perfectly orthodox scientific methods. Only I +could form no sort of guess as to how they had been arrived at. A +negro’s blood is no different from any other person’s, and certainly +affords no clue to his height or the condition of his legs. I could +make nothing of it; and as the dialogue and the inspector’s +note-takings brought us to the little town hall in which the inquest +was to be held, I dismissed the puzzle until such time as Thorndyke +chose to solve it. + +When we entered the town hall we found everything in readiness for the +opening of the proceedings. The jury were already in their places and +the coroner was just about to take his seat at the head of the long +table. We accordingly slipped on to the two chairs that were found for +us by the inspector, and the latter took his place behind the jury and +facing us. Near to him Mr. Foxley and Miss Markham were seated, and +evidently hailed our arrival with profound relief, each of them +smiling us a silent greeting. A professional-looking man sitting next +to Thorndyke I assumed to be the medical witness, and a rather +good-looking young man who sat apart with a police constable I +identified as Robert Fletcher. + +The evidence of the “common” witnesses who deposed to the general +facts, told us nothing that we did not already know, excepting that it +was made clear that Fletcher had left his uncle’s house not later than +seven o’clock and that thereafter until the following morning his +whereabouts were known. The medical witness was cautious, and kept an +uneasy eye on Thorndyke. The wound which caused the death of deceased +might have been inflicted by himself or by some other person. He had +originally given the probable time of death as six or seven o’clock on +Wednesday evening. He now admitted--in reply to a question from +Thorndyke--that he had not taken the temperature of the body, and that +the rigidity and other conditions were not absolutely inconsistent +with a considerably later time of death. Death might even have +occurred after midnight. + +In spite of this admission, however, the sum of the evidence tended +strongly to implicate Fletcher, and one or two questions from jurymen +suggested a growing belief in his guilt. I had no doubt whatever that +if the case had been put to the jury at this stage, a unanimous +verdict of “wilful murder” would have been the result. But, as the +medical witness returned to his seat, the coroner fixed an inquisitive +eye on Thorndyke. + +“You have not been summoned as a witness, Dr. Thorndyke,” said he, +“but I understand that you have made certain investigations in this +case. Are you able to throw any fresh light on the circumstances of +the death of the deceased, Joseph Riggs?” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “I am in a position to give important and +material evidence.” + +Thereupon he was sworn, and the coroner, still watching him curiously, +said: + +“I am informed that you have examined samples of the blood of deceased +and the blood which was found in the hall of deceased’s house. Did you +examine them, and if so, what was the object of the examination?” + +“I examined both samples and also samples of the blood of Robert +Fletcher. The object was to ascertain whether the blood on the hall +floor was the blood of the deceased or of Robert Fletcher.” + +The coroner glanced at the medical witness, and a faint smile appeared +on the face of each. + +“And did you,” the former asked in a slightly ironical tone, “form any +opinion on the subject?” + +“I ascertained definitely that the blood in the hall was neither that +of the deceased nor that of Robert Fletcher.” + +The coroner’s eyebrows went up, and once more he glanced significantly +at the doctor. + +“But,” he demanded incredulously, “is it possible to distinguish the +blood of one person from that of another?” + +“Usually it is not, but in certain exceptional cases it is. This +happened to be an exceptional case.” + +“In what respect?” + +“It happened,” Thorndyke replied, “that the person whose blood was +found in the hall suffered from the parasitic disease known as +filariasis. His blood was infested with swarms of a minute worm named +_Filaria nocturna_. I have here,” he continued, taking out of his +research-case the two bottles and the three boxes, “thirty-six mounted +specimens of this blood, and in every one of them one or more of the +parasites is to be seen. I have also thirty-six mounted specimens each +of the blood of the deceased and the blood of Robert Fletcher. In not +one of these specimens is a single parasite to be found. Moreover, I +have examined Robert Fletcher and the body of the deceased, and can +testify that no sign of filarial disease was to be discovered in +either. Hence it is certain that the blood found in the hall was not +the blood of either of these two persons.” + +The ironic smile had faded from the coroner’s face. He was evidently +deeply impressed, and his manner was quite deferential as he asked: + +“Do these very remarkable observations of yours lead to any further +inferences?” + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “They render it certain that this blood was +shed not earlier than nine o’clock and probably nearer midnight.” + +“Really!” the astonished coroner exclaimed. “Now, how is it possible +to fix the time in that exact manner?” + +“By inference from the habits of the parasite,” Thorndyke explained. +“This particular filaria is distributed by the mosquito, and its +habits are adapted to the habits of the mosquito. During the day, the +worms are not found in the blood; they remain hidden in the tissues of +the body. But about nine o’clock at night they begin to migrate from +the tissues into the blood, and remain in the blood during the hours +when the mosquitoes are active. Then, about six o’clock in the +morning, they leave the blood and migrate back into the tissues. + +“There is another very similar species--_Filaria diurna_--which has +exactly opposite habits, adapted to day-flying suctorial insects. It +appears in the blood about eleven in the forenoon and goes back into +the tissues about six o’clock in the evening.” + +“Astonishing!” exclaimed the coroner. “Wonderful! By the way, the +parasites that you found could not, I suppose, have been _Filaria +diurna_?” + +“No,” Thorndyke replied. “The time excludes that possibility. The +blood was certainly shed after six. They were undoubtedly _nocturna_, +and the large numbers found suggest a late hour. The parasites come +out of the tissues very gradually, and it is only about midnight that +they appear in the blood in really large numbers.” + +“That is very important,” said the coroner. “But does this disease +affect any particular class of persons?” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “As the disease is confined to tropical +countries, the sufferers are naturally residents of the tropics, and +nearly always natives. In West Africa, for instance, it is common +among the negroes but practically unknown among the white residents.” + +“Should you say that there is a distinct probability that this unknown +person was a negro?” + +“Yes. But apart from the filariæ, there is direct evidence that he +was. Searching for some cause of the bleeding, I noticed a lamp-hook +screwed into the ceiling and low enough to strike a tall man’s head. I +examined it closely, and observed on it a dark, shiny mark, like a +blood-smear, and one or two short coiled hairs which I recognized as +the scalp-hairs of a negro. I have no doubt that the unknown man is a +negro, and that he has a wound of the scalp.” + +“Does filarial disease produce any effects that can be recognized?” + +“Frequently it does. One of the commonest effects produced by _Filaria +nocturna_, especially among negroes, is the condition known as +elephantiasis. This consists of an enormous swelling of the +extremities, most usually of one leg, including the foot; whence the +name. The leg and foot look like those of an elephant. As a matter of +fact, the negro who was in the hall suffered from elephantiasis of the +left leg. I observed prints of the characteristically deformed foot on +the oil-cloth covering the floor.” + +Thorndyke’s evidence was listened to with intense interest by everyone +present, including myself. Indeed, so spell-bound was his audience +that one could have heard a pin drop; and the breathless silence +continued for some seconds after he had ceased speaking. Then, in the +midst of the stillness, I heard the door creak softly behind me. + +There was nothing particularly significant in the sound. But its +effects were amazing. Glancing at the inspector, who faced the door, I +saw his eyes open and his jaw drop until his face was a very mask of +astonishment. And as this expression was reflected on the faces of the +jurymen, the coroner and everyone present, excepting Thorndyke, whose +back was towards the door, I turned to see what had happened. And then +I was as astonished as the others. + +The door had been pushed open a few inches and a head thrust in--a +negro’s head, covered with a soiled and blood-stained rag forming a +rough bandage. As I gazed at the black, shiny, inquisitive face, the +man pushed the door farther open and shuffled into the room; and +instantly there arose on all sides a soft rustle and an inarticulate +murmur followed by breathless silence, while every eye was riveted on +the man’s left leg. + +It certainly was a strange, repulsive-looking member, its monstrous +bulk exposed to view through the slit trouser and its great shapeless +foot--shoeless, since no shoe could have contained it--rough and horny +like the foot of an elephant. But it was tragic and pitiable, too; for +the man, apart from this horrible excrescence, was a fine, big, +athletic-looking fellow. + +The coroner was the first to recover. Addressing Thorndyke, but +keeping an eye on the negro, he said: + +“Your evidence, then, amounts to this: On the night of Joseph Riggs’s +death, there was a stranger in the house. That stranger was a negro, +who seems to have wounded his head and who, you say, had a swelled +left leg.” + +“Yes,” Thorndyke admitted, “that is the substance of my evidence.” + +Once more a hush fell on the room. The negro stood near the door, +rolling his eyes to and fro over the assembly as if uneasily conscious +that everyone was looking at him. Suddenly, he shuffled up to the foot +of the table and addressed the coroner in deep, buzzing, resonant +tones. + +“You tink I kill dat ole man! I no kill um. He kill himself. I look +um.” + +Having made this statement, he rolled his eyes defiantly round the +court, and then turned his face expectantly towards the coroner, who +said: + +“You say you know that Mr. Riggs killed himself?” + +“Yas. I look um. He shoot himself. You tink I shoot um. I tell you I +no shoot um. Why I fit kill this man? I no sabby um.” + +“Then,” said the coroner, “if you know that he killed himself, you +must tell us all that you know; and you must swear to tell us the +truth.” + +“Yas,” the negro agreed, “I tell you eberyting one time. I tell you de +troof. Dat ole man kill himself.” + +When the coroner had explained to him that he was not bound to make +any statement that would incriminate him, as he still elected to give +evidence, he was sworn and proceeded to make his statement with +curious fluency and self-possession. + +“My name Robert Bruce. Dat my English name. My country name Kwaku +Mensah. I live for Winnebah on de Gold Coast. Dis time I cook’s mate +for dat steamer _Leckie_. On Wednesday night I lay in my bunk. I no +fit sleep. My leg he chook me. I look out of de porthole. Plenty moon +live. In my country when de moon big, peoples walk about. So I get up. +I go ashore to walk about de town. Den de rain come. Plenty rain. Rain +no good for my sickness. So I try for open house doors. No fit. All +doors locked. Den I come to dis ole man’s house. I turn de handle. De +door open. I go in. I look in one room. All dark. Nobody live. Den I +look annudder room. De door open a little. Light live inside. I no +like dat. I tink, spose somebody come out and see me, he tink I come +for teef someting. So I tink I go away. + +“Den someting make ‘Ping!’ same like gun. I hear someting fall down in +dat room. I go to de door and I sing out, ‘Who live in dere?’ Nobody +say nutting. So I open de door and look in. De room full ob smoke. I +look dat ole man on de floor. I look dat pistol. I sabby dat ole man +kill himself. Den I frighten too much. I run out. De place all dark. +Someting knock my head. He make blood come plenty. I go back for ship. +I no say nutting to nobody. Dis day I hear peoples talk ’bout dis +inquess to find out who kill dat ole man. So I come to hear what +peoples say. I hear dat gentleman say I kill dat ole man. So I tell +you eberyting. I tell you de troof. Finish.” + +“Do you know what time it was when you came ashore?” the coroner +asked. + +“Yas. When I come down de ladder I hear eight bells ring. I get back +to de ship jus’ before dey ring two bells in de middle watch.” + +“Then you came ashore at midnight and got back just before one +o’clock?” + +“Yas. Dat is what I say.” + +A few more questions put by the coroner having elicited nothing fresh, +the case was put briefly to the jury. + +“You have heard the evidence, gentlemen, and most remarkable evidence +it was. Like myself, you must have been deeply impressed by the +amazing skill with which Dr. Thorndyke reconstructed the personality +of the unknown visitor to that house, and even indicated correctly the +very time of the visit, from an examination of a mere chance +blood-stain. As to the statement of Kwaku Mensah, I can only say that +I see no reason to doubt its truth. You will note that it is in +complete agreement with Dr. Thorndyke’s evidence, and it presents no +inconsistencies or improbabilities. Possibly the police may wish to +make some further inquiries, but for our purposes it is the evidence +of an eyewitness, and as such must be given full weight. With these +remarks, I leave you to consider your verdict.” + +The jury took but a minute or two to deliberate. Indeed, only one +verdict was possible if the evidence was to be accepted, and that was +agreed on unanimously--suicide whilst temporarily insane. As soon as +it was announced, the inspector, formally and with congratulations, +released Fletcher from custody, and presently retired in company with +the negro to make a few inquiries on board the ship. + +The rising of the court was the signal for a wild demonstration of +enthusiasm and gratitude to Thorndyke. To play his part efficiently in +that scene he would have needed to be furnished, like certain +repulsive Indian deities, with an unlimited outfit of arms. For +everyone wanted to shake his hand, and two of them--Mr. Foxley and +Miss Markham--did so with such pertinacity as entirely to exclude the +other candidates. + + +“I can never thank you enough,” Miss Markham exclaimed, with swimming +eyes, “if I should live to be a hundred. But I shall think of you with +gratitude every day of my life. Whenever I look at Robert, I shall +remember that his liberty, and even his life, are your gifts.” + +Here she was so overcome by grateful emotion that she again seized and +pressed his hand. I think she was within an ace of kissing him; but +being, perhaps, doubtful how he would take it, compromised by kissing +Robert instead. And, no doubt, it was just as well. + + + + + IX. + GLEANINGS FROM THE WRECKAGE + +There was a time, and not so very long ago, when even the main +streets of London, after midnight, were as silent as--not the grave; +that is an unpleasant simile. Besides, who has any experience of +conditions in the grave? But they were nearly as silent as the streets +of a village. Then the nocturnal pedestrian could go his way +encompassed and soothed by quiet, which was hardly disturbed by the +rumble of a country wagon wending to market or the musical tinkle of +the little bells on the collar of the hansom-cab horse sedately +drawing some late reveller homeward. + +Very different is the state of those streets nowadays. Long after the +hour when the electric trams have ceased from troubling and the motor +omnibuses are at rest, the heavy road transport from the country +thunders through the streets; the air is rent by the howls of the +electric hooter, and belated motor-cyclists fly past, stuttering +explosively like perambulant Lewis guns with an inexhaustible charge. + +“Let us get into the by-streets,” said Thorndyke, as a car sped past +us uttering sounds suggestive of a dyspeptic dinosaur. “We don’t want +our conversation seasoned with mechanical objurgations. In the +back-streets it is still possible to hear oneself speak and forget the +march of progress.” + +We turned into a narrow by-way with the confidence of the born and +bred Londoner in the impossibility of losing our direction, and began +to thread the intricate web of streets in the neighbourhood of a +canal. + +“It is a remarkable thing,” Thorndyke resumed anon, “that every new +application of science seems to be designed to render the environment +of civilized man more and more disagreeable. If the process goes much +farther, as it undoubtedly will, we shall presently find ourselves +looking back wistfully at the Stone-age as the golden age of human +comfort.” + +At this point his moralizing was cut short by a loud, sharp explosion. +We both stopped and looked about from the parapet of the bridge that +we were crossing. + +“Quite like old times,” Thorndyke remarked. “Carries one back to 1915, +when friend Fritz used to call on us. Ah! There is the place; the top +story of that tall building across the canal.” He pointed as he spoke +to a factory-like structure, from the upper windows of which a lurid +light shone and rapidly grew brighter. + +“It must be down the next turning,” said I, quickening my pace. But he +restrained me, remarking: “There is no hurry. That was the sound of +high explosive, and those flames suggest nitro compounds burning. +_Festina lente._ There may be some other packets of high explosives.” + +He had hardly finished speaking when a flash of dazzling violet light +burst from the burning building. The windows flew out bodily, the roof +opened in places, and almost at the same moment the clang of a violent +explosion shook the ground under our feet, a puff of wind stirred our +hair, and then came a clatter of falling glass and slates. + +We made our way at a leisurely pace towards the scene of the +explosion, through streets lighted up by the ruddy glare from the +burning factory. But others were less cautious. In a few minutes the +street was filled by one of those crowds which, in London, seem +mysteriously to spring up in an instant where but a moment before not +a person was to be seen. Before we had reached the building, a +fire-engine had rumbled past us, and already a sprinkling of policemen +had appeared as if, like the traditional frogs, they had dropped from +the clouds. + +In spite of the ferocity of its outbreak, the fire seemed to be no +great matter, for even as we looked and before the fire-hose was fully +run out, the flames began to die down. Evidently, they had been dealt +with by means of extinguishers within the building, and the services +of the engine would not be required after all. Noting this flat ending +to what had seemed so promising a start, we were about to move off and +resume our homeward journey when I observed a uniformed inspector who +was known to us, and who, observing us at the same instant, made his +way towards us through the crowd. + +“You remind me, sir,” said he, when he had wished us good evening, “of +the stories of the vultures that make their appearance in the sky from +nowhere when a camel drops dead in the desert. I don’t mean anything +uncomplimentary,” he hastened to add. “I was only thinking of the +wonderful instinct that has brought you to this very spot at this +identical moment, as if you had smelt a case afar off.” + +“Then your imagination has misled you,” said Thorndyke, “for I haven’t +smelt a case, and I don’t smell one now. Fires are not in my +province.” + +“No, sir,” replied the inspector, “but bodies are, and the fireman +tells me that there is a dead man up there--or at least the remains of +one. I am going up to inspect. Do you care to come up with me?” + +Thorndyke considered for a moment, but I knew what his answer would +be, and I was not mistaken. + +“As a matter of professional interest, I should,” he replied, “but I +don’t want to be summoned as a witness at the inquest.” + +“Of course you don’t, sir,” the inspector agreed, “and I will see that +you are not summoned, unless an expert witness is wanted. I need not +mention that you have been here; but I should be glad of your opinion +for my own guidance in investigating the case.” + +He led us through the crowd to the door of the building, where we were +joined by a fireman--whose helmet I should have liked to borrow--by +whom we were piloted up the stairs. Half-way up we met the +night-watchman, carrying an exhausted extinguisher and a big electric +lantern, and he joined our procession, giving us the news as we +ascended. + +“It’s all safe up above,” said he, “excepting the roof; and that isn’t +so very much damaged. The big windows saved it. They blew out and let +off the force of the explosion. The floor isn’t damaged at all. It’s +girder and concrete. But poor Mr. Manford caught it properly. He was +fairly blown to bits.” + +“Do you know how it happened?” the inspector asked. + +“I don’t,” was the reply. “When I came on duty Mr. Manford was up +there in his private laboratory. Soon afterwards a friend of his--a +foreign gentleman of the name of Bilsky--came to see him. I took him +up, and then Mr. Manford said he had some business to do, and after +that he had got a longish job to do and would be working late. So he +said I might turn in and he would let me know when he had finished. +And he did let me know with a vengeance, poor chap! I lay down in my +clothes, and I hadn’t been asleep above a couple of hours when some +noise woke me up. Then there came a most almighty bang. I rushed for +an extinguisher and ran upstairs, and there I found the big laboratory +all ablaze, the windows blown out and the ceiling down. But it wasn’t +so bad as it looked. There wasn’t very much stuff up there; only the +experimental stuff, and that burned out almost at once. I got the rest +of the fire out in a few minutes.” + +“What stuff is it that you are speaking of?” the inspector asked. + +“Celluloid, mostly, I think,” replied the watchman. “They make films +and other celluloid goods in the works. But Mr. Manford used to do +experiments in the material up in his laboratory. This time he was +working with alloys, melting them on the gas furnace. Dangerous thing +to do with all that inflammable stuff about. I don’t know what there +was up there, exactly. Some of it was celluloid, I could see by the +way it burned, but the Lord knows what it was that exploded. Some of +the raw stuff, perhaps.” + +At this point we reached the top floor, where a door blown off its +hinges and a litter of charred wood fragments filled the landing. +Passing through the yawning doorway, we entered the laboratory and +looked on a hideous scene of devastation. The windows were mere holes, +the ceiling a gaping space fringed with black and ragged lathing, +through which the damaged roof was visible by the light of the +watchman’s powerful lantern. The floor was covered with the fallen +plaster and fragments of blackened woodwork, but its own boards were +only slightly burnt in places, owing, no doubt, to their being +fastened directly to the concrete which formed the actual floor. + +“You spoke of some human remains,” said the inspector. + +“Ah!” said the watchman, “you may well say ‘remains.’ Just come here.” +He led the way over the rubbish to a corner of the laboratory, where +he halted and threw the light of his lantern down on a brownish, +dusty, globular object that lay on the floor half buried in plaster. +“That’s all that’s left of poor Mr. Manford; that and a few other odd +pieces. I saw a hand over the other side.” + +Thorndyke picked up the head and placed it on the blackened remnant of +a bench, where, with the aid of the watchman’s lantern and the +inspection lamp which I produced from our research-case, he examined +it curiously. It was extremely, but unequally, scorched. One ear was +completely shrivelled, and most of the face was charred to the bone. +But the other ear was almost intact; and though most of the hair was +burned away to the scalp, a tuft above the less-damaged ear was only +singed, so that it was possible to see that the hair had been black, +with here and there a stray white hair. + +Thorndyke made no comments, but I noticed that he examined the +gruesome object minutely, taking nothing for granted. The inspector +noticed this, too; and when the examination was finished, looked at +him inquiringly. + +“Anything abnormal, sir?” he asked. + +“No,” replied Thorndyke; “nothing that is not accounted for by fire +and the explosion. I see he had no natural teeth, so he must have worn +a complete set of false teeth. That should help in the formal +identification, if the plates are not completely destroyed.” + +“There isn’t much need for identification,” said the watchman, “seeing +that there was nobody in the building but him and me. His friend went +away about half-past twelve. I heard Mr. Manford let him out.” + +“The doctor means at the inquest,” the inspector explained. “Somebody +has got to recognize the body if possible.” + +He took the watchman’s lantern, and throwing its light on the floor, +began to search among the rubbish. Very soon he disinterred from under +a heap of plaster the headless trunk. Both legs were attached, though +the right was charred below the knee and the foot blown off, and one +complete arm. The other arm--the right--was intact only to the elbow. +Here, again, the burning was very unequal. In some parts the clothing +had been burnt off or blown away completely; in others, enough was +left to enable the watchman to recognize it with certainty. One leg +was much more burnt than the other; and whereas the complete arm was +only scorched, the dismembered one was charred almost to the bone. +When the trunk had been carried to the bench and laid there beside the +head, the lights were turned on it for Thorndyke to make his +inspection. + +“It almost seems,” said the police officer, as the hand was being +examined, “as if one could guess how he was standing when the +explosion occurred. I think I can make out finger-marks--pretty dirty +ones, too--on the back of the hand, as if he had been standing with +his hands clasped together behind him while he watched something that +he was experimenting with.” The inspector glanced for confirmation at +Thorndyke, who nodded approvingly. + +“Yes,” he said, “I think you are right. They are very indistinct, but +the marks are grouped like fingers. The small mark near the wrist +suggests a little finger, and the separate one near the knuckle looks +like a fore-finger, while the remaining two marks are close together.” +He turned the hand over and continued: “And there, in the palm, just +between the roots of the third and fourth fingers, seems to be the +trace of a thumb. But they are all very faint. You have a quick eye, +inspector.” + +The gratified officer, thus encouraged, resumed his explorations among +the debris in company with the watchman--the fireman had retired after +a professional look round--leaving Thorndyke to continue his +examination of the mutilated corpse, at which I looked on +unsympathetically. For we had had a long day and I was tired and +longing to get home. At length I drew out my watch, and with a +portentous yawn, entered a mild protest. + +“It is nearly two o’clock,” said I. “Don’t you think we had better be +getting on? This really isn’t any concern of ours, and there doesn’t +seem to be anything in it, from our point of view.” + +“Only that we are keeping our intellectual joints supple,” Thorndyke +replied with a smile. “But it _is_ getting late. Perhaps we had better +adjourn the inquiry.” + +At this moment, however, the inspector discovered the missing +forearm--completely charred--with the fingerless remains of the hand, +and almost immediately afterwards the watchman picked up a dental +plate of some white metal, which seemed to be practically uninjured. +But our brief inspection of these objects elicited nothing of +interest, and having glanced at them, we took our departure, avoiding +on the stairs an eager reporter, all agog for “copy.” + +A few days later we received a visit, by appointment from a Mr. +Herdman, a solicitor who was unknown to us and who was accompanied by +the widow of Mr. James Manford, the victim of the explosion. In the +interval the inquest had been opened but had been adjourned for +further examination of the premises and the remains. No mention had +been made of our visit to the building, and so far as I knew nothing +had been said to anybody on the subject. + +Mr. Herdman came to the point with business-like directness. + +“I have called,” he said, “to secure your services, if possible, in +regard to the matter of which I spoke in my letter. You have probably +seen an account of the disaster in the papers?” + +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “I read the report of the inquest.” + +“Then you know the principal facts. The inquest, as you know, was +adjourned for three weeks. When it is resumed, I should like to retain +you to attend on behalf of Mrs. Manford.” + +“To watch the case on her behalf?” Thorndyke suggested. + +“Well, not exactly,” replied Herdman. “I should ask you to inspect the +premises and the remains of poor Mr. Manford, so that, at the +adjourned inquest, you could give evidence to the effect that the +explosion and the death of Mr. Manford were entirely due to accident.” + +“Does anyone say that they were not?” Thorndyke asked. + +“No, certainly not,” Mr. Herdman replied hastily. “Not at all. But I +happened, quite by chance, to see the manager of the ‘Pilot’ Insurance +Society, on another matter, and I mentioned the case of Mr. Manford. +He then let drop a remark which made me slightly uneasy. He observed +that there was a suicide clause in the policy, and that the +possibility of suicide would have to be ruled out before the claim +could be settled. Which suggested a possible intention to contest the +claim.” + +“But,” said Thorndyke, “I need not point out to you that if he sets up +the theory of suicide, it is for him to prove it, not for you to +disprove it. Has anything transpired that would lend colour to such a +suggestion?” + +“Nothing material,” was the reply. “But we should feel more happy if +you could be present and give positive evidence that the death was +accidental.” + +“That,” said Thorndyke, “would be hardly possible. But my feeling is +that the suicide question is negligible. There is nothing to suggest +it, so far as I know. Is there anything known to you?” + +The solicitor glanced at his client and replied somewhat evasively: + +“We are anxious to secure ourselves. Mrs. Manford is left very badly +off, unless there is some personal property that we don’t know about. +If the insurance is not paid, she will be absolutely ruined. There +isn’t enough to pay the debts. And I think the suicide question might +be raised--even successfully--on several points. Manford had been +rather queer lately: jumpy and rather worried. Then, he was under +notice to terminate his engagement at the works. His finances were in +a confused state; goodness knows why, for he had a liberal salary. And +then there was some domestic trouble. Mrs. Manford had actually +consulted me about getting a separation. Some other woman, you know.” + +“I should like to forget that,” said Mrs. Manford; “and it wasn’t that +which worried him. Quite the contrary. Since it began he had been +quite changed. So smart in his dress and so particular in his +appearance. He even took to dyeing his hair. I remember that he opened +a fresh bottle of dye the very morning before his death and took no +end of trouble putting it on. It wasn’t that entanglement that made +him jumpy. It was his money affairs. He had too many irons in the +fire.” + +Thorndyke listened with patient attention to these rather irrelevant +details and inquired: “What sort of irons?” + +“I will tell you,” said Herdman. “About three months ago he had need +for two thousand pounds; for what purpose, I can’t say, but Mrs. +Manford thinks it was to invest in certain valuables that he used to +purchase from time to time from a Russian dealer named Bilsky. At any +rate, he got this sum on short loan from a Mr. Clines, but meanwhile +arranged for a longer loan with a Mr. Elliott on a note of hand and an +agreement to insure his life for the amount. + +“As a matter of fact, the policy was made out in Elliott’s name, he +having proved an insurable interest. So if the insurance is paid, +Elliott is settled with. Otherwise the debt falls on the estate, which +would be disastrous; and to make it worse, the day before his death, +he drew out five hundred pounds--nearly the whole balance--as he was +expecting to see Mr. Bilsky, who liked to be paid in bank-notes. He +did see him, in fact, at the laboratory, but they couldn’t have done +any business, as no jewels were found.” + +“And the bank-notes?” + +“Burned with the body, presumably. He must have had them with him.” + +“You mentioned,” said Thorndyke, “that he occasionally bought jewels +from this Russian. What became of them?” + +“Ah!” replied Herdman, “there is a gleam of hope there. He had a safe +deposit somewhere. We haven’t located it yet, but we shall. There may +be quite a nice little nest-egg in it. But meanwhile there is the debt +to Elliott. He wrote to Manford about it a day or two ago. You have +the letter, I think,” he added, addressing Mrs. Manford, who thereupon +produced two envelopes from her handbag and laid them on the table. + +“This is Mr. Elliott’s letter,” she said. “Merely a friendly reminder, +you see, telling him that he is just off to the continent and that he +has given his wife a power of attorney to act in his absence.” + +Thorndyke glanced through the letter and made a few notes of its +contents. Then he looked inquiringly at the other envelope. + +“That,” said Mrs. Manford, “is a photograph of my husband. I thought +it might help you if you were going to examine the body.” + +As Thorndyke drew the portrait out and regarded it thoughtfully, I +recalled the shapeless, blackened fragments of its subject; and when +he passed it to me I inspected it with a certain grim interest, and +mentally compared it with those grisly remains. It was a commonplace +face, rather unsymmetrical--the nose was deflected markedly to the +left, and the left eye had a pronounced divergent squint. The bald +head, with an abundant black fringe and an irregular scar on the right +side of the forehead, sought compensation in a full beard and +moustache, both apparently jet-black. It was not an attractive +countenance, and it was not improved by a rather odd-shaped ear--long, +lobeless, and pointed above, like the ear of a satyr. + +“I realize your position,” said Thorndyke, “but I don’t quite see what +you want of me. If,” he continued, addressing the solicitor, “you had +thought of my giving _ex parte_ evidence, dismiss the idea. I am not a +witness-advocate. All I can undertake to do is to investigate the case +and try to discover what really happened. But in that case, whatever I +may discover I shall disclose to the coroner. Would that suit you?” + +The lawyer looked doubtful and rather glum, but Mrs. Manford +interposed, firmly: + +“Why not? We are not proposing any deception, but I am certain that he +did not commit suicide. Yes, I agree unreservedly to what you +propose.” + +With this understanding--which the lawyer was disposed to boggle +at--our visitors took their leave. As soon as they were gone, I gave +utterance to the surprise with which I had listened to Thorndyke’s +proposal. + +“I am astonished at your undertaking this case. Of course, you have +given them fair warning, but still, it will be unpleasant if you have +to give evidence unfavourable to your client.” + +“Very,” he agreed. “But what makes you think I may have to?” + +“Well, you seem to reject the probability of suicide, but have you +forgotten the evidence at the inquest?” + +“Perhaps I have,” he replied blandly. “Let us go over it again.” + +I fetched the report from the office, and spreading it out on the +table began to read it aloud. Passing over the evidence of the +inspector and the fireman, I came to that of the night-watchman. + +“Shortly after I came on duty at ten o’clock, a foreign gentleman +named Bilsky called to see Mr. Manford. I knew him by sight, because +he had called once or twice before at about the same time. I took him +up to the laboratory, where Mr. Manford was doing something with a big +crucible on the gas furnace. He told me that he had some business to +transact with Mr. Bilsky and when he had finished he would let him +out. Then he was going to do some experiments in making alloys, and as +they would probably take up most of the night he said I might as well +turn in. He said he would call me when he was ready to go. So I told +him to be careful with the furnace and not set the place on fire and +burn me in my bed, and then I went downstairs. I had a look round to +see that everything was in order, and then I took off my boots and +laid down. About half-past twelve I heard Mr. Manford and Bilsky come +down. I recognized Mr. Bilsky by a peculiar cough that he had and by +the sound of his stick and his limping tread--he had something the +matter with his right foot and walked quite lame.” + +“You say that the deceased came down with him,” said the coroner. “Are +you quite sure of that?” + +“Well, I suppose Mr. Manford came down with him, but I can’t say I +actually heard him.” + +“You did not hear him go up again?” + +“No, I didn’t. But I was rather sleepy and I wasn’t listening very +particular. Well, then I went to sleep and slept till about half-past +one, when some noise woke me. I was just getting up to see what it was +when I heard a tremendous bang, right overhead. I ran down and turned +the gas off at the main and then I got a fire extinguisher and ran up +to the laboratory. The place seemed to be all in a blaze, but it +wasn’t much of a fire after all, for by the time the fire engines +arrived I had got it practically out.” + +The witness then described the state of the laboratory and the finding +of the body, but as this was already known to us, I passed on to the +evidence of the next witness, the superintendent of the fire brigade, +who had made a preliminary inspection of the premises. It was a +cautious statement and subject to the results of a further +examination; but clearly the officer was not satisfied as to the cause +of the outbreak. There seemed to have been two separate explosions, +one near a cupboard and another--apparently the second--in the +cupboard itself; and there seemed to be a burned track connecting the +two spots. This might have been accidental or it might have been +arranged. Witness did not think that the explosive was celluloid. It +seemed to be a high explosive of some kind. But further investigations +were being made. + +The superintendent was followed by Mrs. Manford, whose evidence was +substantially similar to what she and Mr. Herdman had told us, and by +the police surgeon, whose description of the remains conveyed nothing +new to us. Finally, the inquest was adjourned for three weeks to allow +of further examination of the premises and the remains. + +“Now,” I said, as I folded up the report, “I don’t see how you are +able to exclude suicide. If the explosion was arranged to occur when +Manford was in the laboratory, what object, other than suicide, can be +imagined?” + +Thorndyke looked at me with an expression that I knew only too well. + +“Is it impossible,” he asked, “to imagine that the object might have +been homicide?” + +“But,” I objected, “there was no one there but Manford--after Bilsky +left.” + +“Exactly,” he agreed, dryly; “after Bilsky left. But up to that time +there were two persons there.” + +I must confess that I was startled, but as I rapidly reviewed the +circumstances I perceived the cogency of Thorndyke’s suggestion. +Bilsky had been present when Manford dismissed the night-watchman. He +knew that there would be no interruption. The inflammable and +explosive materials were there, ready to his hand. Then Bilsky had +gone down to the door alone instead of being conducted down and let +out; a very striking circumstance, this. Again, no jewels had been +found, though the meeting had been ostensibly for the purpose of a +deal; and the bank-notes had vanished utterly. This was very +remarkable. In view of the large sum, it was nearly certain that the +notes would be in a close bundle, and we all know how difficult it is +to burn tightly-folded paper. Yet they had vanished without leaving a +trace. Finally, there was Bilsky himself. Who was he? Apparently a +dealer in stolen property--a hawker of the products of robbery and +murder committed during the revolution. + +“Yes,” I admitted, “the theory of homicide is certainly tenable. But +unless some new facts can be produced, it must remain a matter of +speculation.” + +“I think, Jervis,” he rejoined, “you must be overlooking the facts +that are known to us. We were there. We saw the place within a few +minutes of the explosion and we examined the body. What we saw +established a clear presumption of homicide, and what we have heard +this morning confirms it. I may say that I communicated my suspicions +the very next day to the coroner and to Superintendent Miller.” + +“Then you must have seen more than I did,” I began. But he shook his +head and cut short my protestations. + +“You saw what I saw, Jervis, but you did not interpret its meaning. +However, it is not too late. Try to recall the details of our +adventure and what our visitors have told us. I don’t think you will +then entertain the idea of suicide.” + +I was about to put one or two leading questions, but at this moment +footsteps became audible ascending our stairs. The knock which +followed informed me that our visitor was Superintendent Miller, and I +rose to admit him. + +“Just looked in to report progress,” he announced as he subsided into +an arm-chair. “Not much to report, but what there is supports your +view of the case. Bilsky has made a clean bolt. Never went home to his +hotel. Evidently meant to skedaddle, as he has left nothing of any +value behind. But it was a stupid move, for it would have raised +suspicion in any case. The notes were a consecutive batch. All the +numbers are known, but, of course, none of them have turned up yet. We +have made inquiries about Bilsky, and gather that he is a shady +character; practically a fence who deals in the jewellery stolen from +those unfortunate Russian aristocrats. But we shall have him all +right. His description has been circulated at all the seaports, and he +is an easy man to spot with his lame foot and his stick and a finger +missing from his right hand.” + +Thorndyke nodded, and seemed to reflect for a moment. Then he asked: + +“Have you made any other inquiries?” + +“No; there is nothing more to find out until we get hold of our man, +and when we do, we shall look to you to secure the conviction. I +suppose you are quite certain as to your facts?” + +Thorndyke shook his head with a smile. + +“I am never certain until after the event. We can only act on +probabilities.” + +“I understand,” said the superintendent, casting a sly look at me; +“but your probabilities are good enough for me.” + +With this, he picked up his hat and departed, leaving us to return to +the occupations that our visitors had interrupted. + +I heard no more of the Manford case for about a week, and assumed that +Thorndyke’s interest in it had ceased. But I was mistaken, as I +discovered when he remarked casually one evening: + +“No news of Bilsky, so far; and time is running on. I am proposing to +make a tentative move in a new direction.” I looked at him +inquiringly, and he continued: “It appears, ‘from information +received,’ that Elliott had some dealings with him, so I propose to +call at his house to-morrow and see if we can glean any news of the +lost sheep.” + +“But Elliott is abroad,” I objected. + +“True; but his wife isn’t; and she evidently knows all about his +affairs. I have invited Miller to come with me in case he would like +to put any questions; and you may as well come, too, if you are free.” + +It did not sound like a very thrilling adventure, but one never knew +with Thorndyke. I decided to go with him, and at that the matter +dropped, though I speculated a little curiously on the source of the +information. So, apparently, had the superintendent, for when he +arrived on the following morning he proceeded to throw out a few +cautious feelers, but got nothing for his pains beyond vague +generalities. + +“It is a purely tentative proceeding,” said Thorndyke, “and you +mustn’t be disappointed if nothing comes of it.” + +“I shall be, all the same,” replied Miller, with a sly glance at my +senior, and with this we set forth on our quest. + +The Elliotts’ house was, as I knew, in some part of Wimbledon, and +thither we made our way by train. From the station we started along a +wide, straight main street from which numbers of smaller streets +branched off. At the corner of one of these I noticed a man standing, +apparently watching our approach; and something in his appearance +seemed to me familiar. Suddenly he took off his hat, looked curiously +into its interior, and put it on again. Then he turned about and +walked quickly down the side street. I looked at his retreating figure +as we crossed the street, wondering who he could be. And then it +flashed upon me that the resemblance was to a certain ex-sergeant +Barber whom Thorndyke occasionally employed for observation duties. +Just as I reached this conclusion, Thorndyke halted and looked about +him doubtfully. + +“I am afraid we have come too far,” said he. “I fancy we ought to have +gone down that last turning.” + +We accordingly faced about and walked back to the corner, where +Thorndyke read out the name, Mendoza Avenue. + +“Yes,” he said, “this is the way,” and we thereupon turned down the +Avenue, following it to the bottom, where it ended in a cross-road, +the name of which, Berners Park, I recognized as that which I had seen +on Elliott’s letter. + +“Sixty-four is the number,” said Thorndyke, “so as this corner house +is forty-six and the next is forty-eight, it will be a little way +along on this side, just about where you can see that smoke--which, by +the way, seems to be coming out of a window.” + +“Yes, by Jove!” I exclaimed. “The staircase window, apparently. Not +our house, I hope!” + +But it was. We read the number and the name, “Green Bushes,” on the +gate as we came up to it, and we hurried up the short path to the +door. There was no knocker, but when Miller fixed his thumb on the +bell-push, we heard a loud ringing within. But there was no response; +and meanwhile the smoke poured more and more densely out of the open +window above. + +“Rum!” exclaimed Miller, sticking to the bell-push like a limpet. +“House seems to be empty.” + +“I don’t think it is,” Thorndyke replied calmly. + +The superintendent looked at him with quick suspicion, and then +glanced at the ground-floor window. + +“That window is unfastened,” said he, “and here comes a constable.” + +Sure enough, a policeman was approaching quickly, looking up at the +houses. Suddenly he perceived the smoke and quickened his pace, +arriving just as Thorndyke had pulled down the upper window-sash and +was preparing to climb over into the room. The constable hailed him +sternly, but a brief explanation from Miller reduced the officer to a +state of respectful subservience, and we all followed Thorndyke +through the open window, from which smoke now began to filter. + +“Send the constable upstairs to give the alarm,” Thorndyke instructed +Miller in a low tone. The order was given without question, and the +next moment the officer was bounding up the stairs, roaring like a +whole fire brigade. Meanwhile, the superintendent browsed along the +hall through the dense smoke, sniffing inquisitively, and at length +approached the street door. Suddenly, from the heart of the reek, his +voice issued in tones of amazement. + +“Well, I’m hanged! It’s a plumber’s smoke-rocket. Some fool has stuck +it through into the letter-cage!” + +In the silence which followed this announcement I heard an angry voice +from above demand: + +“What is all this infernal row about? And what are you doing here?” + +“Can’t you see that the house is on fire?” was the constable’s stern +rejoinder. “You’d better come down and help to put it out.” + +The command was followed by the sound of descending footsteps, on +which Thorndyke ran quickly up the stairs, followed by the +superintendent and me. We met the descending party on the landing, +opposite a window, and here we all stopped, gazing at one another with +mutual curiosity. The man who accompanied the constable looked +distinctly alarmed--as well he might--and somewhat hostile. + +“Who put that smoke-rocket in the hall?” Miller demanded fiercely. +“And why didn’t you come down when you heard us ringing the bell?” + +“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the man replied sulkily, +“or what business this is of yours. Who are you? And what are you +doing in my house?” + +“In your house?” repeated Thorndyke. “Then you will be Mr. Elliott?” + +The man turned a startled glance on him and replied angrily: + +“Never you mind who I am. Get out of this house.” + +“But I do mind who you are,” Thorndyke rejoined mildly. “I came here +to see Mr. Elliott. Are you Mr. Elliott?” + +“No, I’m not. Mr. Elliott is abroad. If you like to send a letter here +for him, I will forward it when I get his address.” + +While this conversation had been going on, I had been examining the +stranger, not without curiosity. For his appearance was somewhat +unusual. In the first place, he wore an unmistakable wig, and his +shaven face bore an abundance of cuts and scratches, suggesting a +recently and unskilfully mown beard. His spectacles did not disguise a +pronounced divergent squint of the left eye; but what specially caught +my attention was the ear--a large ear, lobeless and pointed at the tip +like the ear of a satyr. As I looked at this, and at the scraped face, +the squint and the wig, a strange suspicion flashed into my mind; and +then, as I noted that the nose was markedly deflected to the left, I +turned to glance at Thorndyke. + +“Would you mind telling us your name?” the latter asked blandly. + +“My name is--is--Johnson; Frederick Johnson.” + +“Ah,” said Thorndyke. “I thought it was Manford--James Manford, and I +think so still. I suggest that you have a scar on the right side of +your forehead, just under the wig. May we see?” + +As Thorndyke spoke the name, the man turned a horrible livid grey and +started back as if to retreat up the stairs. But the constable blocked +the way; and as the man was struggling to push past, Miller adroitly +snatched off the wig; and there, on the forehead, was the tell-tale +scar. + +For an appreciable time we all stood stock-still like the figures of a +tableau. Then Thorndyke turned to the superintendent. + +“I charge this man, James Manford, with the murder of Stephan Bilsky.” + +Again there was a brief interval of intolerable silence. In the midst +of it, we heard the street door open and shut, and a woman’s voice +called up the stairs: “Whatever is all this smoke? Are you up there, +Jim?” + + +I pass over the harrowing details of the double arrest. I am not a +policeman, and to me such scenes are intensely repugnant. But we must +needs stay until two taxis and four constables had conveyed the +prisoners away from the still reeking house to the caravanserai of the +law. Then, at last, we went forth with relief into the fresh air and +bent our steps towards the station. + +“I take it,” Miller said reflectively, “that you never suspected +Bilsky?” + +“I did at first. But when Mrs. Manford and the solicitor told their +tale I realized that he was the victim and that Manford must be the +murderer.” + +“Let us have the argument,” said I. “It is obvious that I have been a +blockhead, but I don’t mind our old friend here knowing it.” + +“Not a blockhead, Jervis,” he corrected. “You were half asleep that +night and wholly uninterested. If you had been attending to the +matter, you would have observed several curious and anomalous +appearances. For instance, you would have noticed that the body was, +in parts, completely charred and brittle. Now we saw the outbreak of +the fire and we found it extinguished when we reached the building. +Its duration was a matter of minutes; quite insufficient to reduce a +body to that state. For, as you know, a human body is an extremely +incombustible thing. The appearance suggested the destruction of a +body which had been already burnt; and this suggestion was emphasized +by the curiously unequal distribution of the charring. The right hand +was burnt to a cinder and blown to pieces. The left hand was only +scorched. The right foot was utterly destroyed, but the left foot was +nearly intact. The face was burned away completely, and yet there were +parts of the head where the hair was only singed. + +“Naturally, with these facts in mind, I scrutinized those remains +narrowly. And presently something much more definite and sinister came +to light. On the left hand, there was a faint impression of another +hand--very indistinct and blurred, but still unmistakably a hand.” + +“I remember,” said I, “the inspector pointed it out as evidence that +the deceased had been standing with his hands clasped before or behind +him; and I must admit that it seemed a reasonable inference.” + +“So it did--because you were both assuming that the man had been alone +and that it must therefore have been the impression of his own hand. +For that reason, neither of you looked at it critically. If you had, +you would have seen at once that it was the impression of a left +hand.” + +“You are quite right,” I confessed ruefully. “As the man was stated to +have been alone, the hand impression did not interest me. And it was +a mere group of smudges, after all. You are sure that it was a left +hand?” + +“Quite,” he replied. “Blurred as the smudges were, one could make out +the relative lengths of the fingers. And there was the thumb mark at +the distal end of the palm, but pointing to the outer side of the +hand. Try how you may, you can’t get a right hand into that position. + +“Well, then, here was a crucial fact. The mark of a left hand on a +left hand proved the presence of a second person, and at once raised a +strong presumption of homicide, especially when considered in +conjunction with the unaccountable state of the body. During the +evening, a visitor had come and gone, and on him--Bilsky--the +suspicion naturally fell. But Mrs. Manford unwittingly threw an +entirely new light on the case. You remember she told us that her +husband had opened a new bottle of hair dye on the very morning before +the explosion and had applied it with unusual care. Then his hair was +dyed. But the hair of the corpse was not dyed. Therefore the corpse +was not the corpse of Manford. Further, the presumption of murder +applied now to Manford, and the body almost certainly was that of +Bilsky.” + +“How did you deduce that the hair of the corpse was not dyed?” I +asked. + +“I didn’t deduce it at all. I observed it. You remember a little patch +of hair above the right ear, very much singed but still recognizable +as hair? Well, in that patch I made out distinctly two or three white +hairs. Naturally, when Mrs. Manford spoke of the dye, I recalled those +white hairs, for though you may find silver hairs among the gold, you +don’t find them among the dyed. So the corpse could not be Manford’s +and was presumably that of Bilsky. + +“But the instant that this presumption was made, a quantity of fresh +evidence arose to support it. The destruction of the body was now +understandable. Its purpose was to prevent identification. The parts +destroyed were the parts that had to be destroyed for that purpose: +the face was totally unrecognizable, and the right hand and right foot +were burnt and shattered to fragments. But these were Bilsky’s +personal marks. His right hand was mutilated and his right foot +deformed. And the fact that the false teeth found were undoubtedly +Manford’s was conclusive evidence of the intended deception. + +“Then there were those very queer financial transactions, of which my +interpretation was this: Manford borrowed two thousand pounds from +Clines. With this he opened an account in the name of Elliott. As +Elliott, he lent himself two thousand pounds--with which he repaid +Clines--subject to an insurance of his life for that amount, taken out +in Elliott’s name.” + +“Then he would have gained nothing,” I objected. + +“On the contrary, he would have stood to gain two thousand pounds on +proof of his own death. That, I assumed, was his scheme: to murder +Bilsky, to arrange for Bilsky’s corpse to personate his own, and then, +when the insurance was paid, to abscond--in the company of some +woman--with this sum, with the valuables that he had taken from +Bilsky, and the five hundred pounds that he had withdrawn from the +bank. + +“But this was only theory. It had to be tested; and as we had +Elliott’s address, I did the only thing that was possible. I employed +our friend, ex-sergeant Barber, to watch the house. He took lodgings +in a house nearly opposite and kept up continuous observation, which +soon convinced him that there was someone on the premises besides Mrs. +Elliott. Then, late one night, he saw a man come out and walk away +quickly. He followed the man for some distance, until the stranger +turned back and began to retrace his steps. Then Barber accosted him, +asking for a direction, and carefully inspecting him. The man’s +appearance tallied exactly with the description that I had given--I +had assumed that he would probably shave off his beard--and with the +photograph; so Barber, having seen him home, reported to me. And that +is the whole story.” + +“Not quite the whole,” said Miller, with a sly grin. “There is that +smoke-rocket. If it hadn’t been for the practical joker who slipped +that through the letter-slit, we could never have got into that house. +I call it a most remarkable coincidence.” + +“So do I,” Thorndyke agreed, without moving a muscle; “but there is a +special providence that watches over medical jurists.” + +We were silent for a few moments. Then I remarked: + +“This will come as a terrible shock to Mrs. Manford.” + +“I am afraid it will,” Thorndyke agreed. “But it will be better for +her than if Manford had absconded with this woman, taking practically +every penny that he possessed with him. She stood to lose a worthless +husband in either event. At least we have saved her from poverty. And, +knowing the facts, we were morally and legally bound to further the +execution of justice.” + +“A very proper sentiment,” said the superintendent, “though I am not +quite clear as to the legal aspects of that smoke-rocket.” + + THE END + + + + + TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES + +The edition hosted on Fadedpage was consulted for most of the changes +listed below. + +Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. notepaper/note-paper, +tattoed/tattooed, writing-table/writing table, etc.) have been +preserved. + +Alterations to the text: + +Punctuation: fix some quotation mark pairings, and a few missing +periods and commas. + +[I. THE MAGIC CASKET] + +Change “we heard his brisk _step_ on the stairs” to _steps_. + +[II. THE CONTENTS OF A MARE’S NEST] + +“and I suppose that to a toxicologist, there is nothing like an” +delete the comma. + +“Yet teeth are far more _resistent_ to fire than bones” to +_resistant_. + +[III. THE STALKING HORSE] + +“I am starting for Folkestone in _re_ Burnham deceased.” +italicize _in_. + +“but do not _re-act_ in this way on cellulose paper” to _react_. + +[IV. THE NATURALIST AT LAW] + +“Who had a motive for killing Cyrus Pedley? and Who had the +opportunity and the means.” change the period to a question mark. + +[V. MR. PONTING’S ALIBI] + +“But since the trouble about the will, he is hardly on speaking terms +with them?” change the question mark to a period. + +[VI. PANDORA’S BOX] + +“opening it and opening _another’s_ man’s box” to _another_. + +[VII. THE TRAIL OF BEHEMOTH] + +“I became aware of quick footsteps descending the _staris_ behind us” +to _stairs_. + +[VIII. THE PATHOLOGIST TO THE RESCUE] + +Change “is in the custody of the robbery and no murder.” to “is in the +custody of the police, charged with robbery and murder.” + +(“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “I am in a position to give important and +material evidence?”) change the question mark to a period. + +“I get back to de ship jus’ before dey ring two bells in _the_ middle +watch.” to _de_. + +[IX. GLEANINGS FROM THE WRECKAGE] + +“in the palm, just between the roots of the third and fourth _finger_” +to _fingers_. + +“in a full beard and moustache, both apparently jet-_back_” to _black_. + + [End of text] + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76919 *** diff --git a/76919-h/76919-h.htm b/76919-h/76919-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a09026 --- /dev/null +++ b/76919-h/76919-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12146 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The magic casket | 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%;} + + 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;} + + .toc_l {font-variant:small-caps; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + .chap_sub {font-size:80%;} + .font80 {font-size:80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + +/* 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;} + .mt4 {margin-top:4em;} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76919 ***</div> + +<h1> +THE<br> +MAGIC CASKET +</h1> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="font80">BY</span><br> +R. AUSTIN FREEMAN +</p> + +<p class="center mt4"> +HODDER AND STOUGHTON<br> +<span class="font80">LIMITED LONDON</span> +</p> + + +<h2> +CONTENTS +</h2> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch01">I. THE MAGIC CASKET</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch02">II. THE CONTENTS OF A MARE’S NEST</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch03">III. THE STALKING HORSE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch04">IV. THE NATURALIST AT LAW</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch05">V. MR. PONTING’S ALIBI</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch06">VI. PANDORA’S BOX</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch07">VII. THE TRAIL OF BEHEMOTH</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch08">VIII. THE PATHOLOGIST TO THE RESCUE</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch09">IX. GLEANINGS FROM THE WRECKAGE</a> +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch01"> +I.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE MAGIC CASKET</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">It</span> was in the near neighbourhood of King’s Road, Chelsea, that +chance, aided by Thorndyke’s sharp and observant eyes, introduced us +to the dramatic story of the Magic Casket. Not that there was anything +strikingly dramatic in the opening phase of the affair, nor even in +the story of the casket itself. It was Thorndyke who added the +dramatic touch, and most of the magic, too; and I record the affair +principally as an illustration of his extraordinary capacity for +producing odd items of out-of-the-way knowledge and instantly applying +them in the most unexpected manner. +</p> + +<p> +Eight o’clock had struck on a misty November night when we turned out +of the main road, and, leaving behind the glare of the shop windows, +plunged into the maze of dark and narrow streets to the north. The +abrupt change impressed us both, and Thorndyke proceeded to moralize +on it in his pleasant, reflective fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“London is an inexhaustible place,” he mused. “Its variety is +infinite. A minute ago we walked in a glare of light, jostled by a +multitude. And now look at this little street. It is as dim as a +tunnel, and we have got it absolutely to ourselves. Anything might +happen in a place like this.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he stopped. We were, at the moment, passing a small church or +chapel, the west door of which was enclosed in an open porch; and as +my observant friend stepped into the latter and stooped, I perceived, +in the deep shadow against the wall, the object which had evidently +caught his eye. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” I asked, following him in. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a handbag,” he replied; “and the question is, what is it doing +here?” +</p> + +<p> +He tried the church door, which was obviously locked, and coming out, +looked at the windows. +</p> + +<p> +“There are no lights in the church,” said he; “the place is locked up, +and there is nobody in sight. Apparently the bag is derelict. Shall we +have a look at it?” +</p> + +<p> +Without waiting for an answer, he picked it up and brought it out into +the mitigated darkness of the street, where we proceeded to inspect +it. But at the first glance it told its own tale; for it had evidently +been locked, and it bore unmistakable traces of having been forced +open. +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t empty,” said Thorndyke. “I think we had better see what is +in it. Just catch hold while I get a light.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed me the bag while he felt in his pocket for the tiny electric +lamp which he made a habit of carrying—and an excellent habit it is. +I held the mouth of the bag open while he illuminated the interior, +which we then saw to be occupied by several objects neatly wrapped in +brown paper. One of these Thorndyke lifted out, and untying the string +and removing the paper, displayed a Chinese stoneware jar. Attached to +it was a label, bearing the stamp of the Victoria and Albert Museum, +on which was written: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="center"> +“<span class="sc">Miss Mabel Bonney</span>,<br> +168 Willow Walk, Fulham Road, W.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“That tells us all that we want to know,” said Thorndyke, re-wrapping +the jar and tenderly replacing it in the bag. “We can’t do wrong in +delivering the things to their owner, especially as the bag itself is +evidently her property, too,” and he pointed to the gilt initials, +“M.B.”, stamped on the morocco. +</p> + +<p> +It took us but a few minutes to reach the Fulham Road, but we then had +to walk nearly a mile along that thoroughfare before we arrived at +Willow Walk—to which an obliging shopkeeper had directed us; and, +naturally, No. 168 was at the farther end. +</p> + +<p> +As we turned into the quiet street we almost collided with two men, +who were walking at a rapid pace, but both looking back over their +shoulders. I noticed that they were both Japanese—well-dressed, +gentlemanly-looking men—but I gave them little attention, being +interested, rather, in what they were looking at. This was a taxi-cab +which was dimly visible by the light of a street lamp at the farther +end of the “Walk,” and from which four persons had just alighted. Two +of these had hurried ahead to knock at a door, while the other two +walked very slowly across the pavement and up the steps to the +threshold. Almost immediately the door was opened; two of the shadowy +figures entered, and the other two returned slowly to the cab; and as +we came nearer, I could see that these latter were policemen in +uniform. I had just time to note this fact when they both got into the +cab and were forthwith spirited away. +</p> + +<p> +“Looks like a street accident of some kind,” I remarked; and then, as +I glanced at the number of the house we were passing, I added: “Now, I +wonder if that house happens to be—yes, by Jove! it is. It is 168! +Things have been happening, and this bag of ours is one of the +dramatis personæ.” +</p> + +<p> +The response to our knock was by no means prompt. I was, in fact, in +the act of raising my hand to the knocker to repeat the summons when +the door opened and revealed an elderly servant-maid, who regarded us +inquiringly, and, as I thought, with something approaching alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“Does Miss Mabel Bonney live here?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” was the reply; “but I am afraid you can’t see her just +now, unless it is something urgent. She is rather upset, and +particularly engaged at present.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no occasion whatever to disturb her,” said Thorndyke. “We +have merely called to restore this bag, which seemed to have been +lost;” and with this he held it out towards her. She grasped it +eagerly, with a cry of surprise, and as the mouth fell open, she +peered into it. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” she exclaimed, “they don’t seem to have taken anything, after +all. Where did you find it, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the porch of a church in Spelton Street,” Thorndyke replied, and +was turning away when the servant said earnestly: +</p> + +<p> +“Would you kindly give me your name and address, sir? Miss Bonney will +wish to write and thank you.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is really no need,” said he; but she interrupted anxiously: +</p> + +<p> +“If you would be so kind, sir. Miss Bonney will be so vexed if she is +unable to thank you; and besides, she may want to ask you some +questions about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is true,” said Thorndyke (who was restrained only by good +manners from asking one or two questions, himself). He produced his +card-case, and having handed one of his cards to the maid, wished her +“good evening” and retired. +</p> + +<p> +“That bag had evidently been pinched,” I remarked, as we walked back +towards the Fulham Road. +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently,” he agreed, and was about to enlarge on the matter when +our attention was attracted to a taxi, which was approaching from the +direction of the main road. A man’s head was thrust out of the window, +and as the vehicle passed a street lamp, I observed that the head +appertained to an elderly gentleman with very white hair and a very +fresh-coloured face. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you see who that was?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It looked like old Brodribb,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“It did; very much. I wonder where he is off to.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned and followed, with a speculative eye, the receding taxi, +which presently swept alongside the kerb and stopped, apparently +opposite the house from which we had just come. As the vehicle came to +rest, the door flew open and the passenger shot out like an elderly, +but agile, Jack-in-the-box, and bounced up the steps. +</p> + +<p> +“That is Brodribb’s knock, sure enough,” said I, as the old-fashioned +flourish reverberated up the quiet street. “I have heard it too often +on our own knocker to mistake it. But we had better not let him see us +watching him.” +</p> + +<p> +As we went once more on our way, I took a sly glance, now and again, +at my friend, noting with a certain malicious enjoyment his profoundly +cogitative air. I knew quite well what was happening in his mind; for +his mind reacted to observed facts in an invariable manner. And here +was a group of related facts: the bag, stolen, but deposited intact; +the museum label; the injured or sick person—probably Miss Bonney, +herself—brought home under police escort; and the arrival, +post-haste, of the old lawyer; a significant group of facts. And there +was Thorndyke, under my amused and attentive observation, fitting them +together in various combinations to see what general conclusion +emerged. Apparently my own mental state was equally clear to him, for +he remarked, presently, as if replying to an unspoken comment: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I expect we shall know all about it before many days have +passed if Brodribb sees my card, as he most probably will. Here comes +an omnibus that will suit us. Shall we hop on?” +</p> + +<p> +He stood at the kerb and raised his stick; and as the accommodation on +the omnibus was such that our seats were separated, there was no +opportunity to pursue the subject further, even if there had been +anything to discuss. +</p> + +<p> +But Thorndyke’s prediction was justified sooner than I had expected. +For we had not long finished our supper, and had not yet closed the +“oak,” when there was heard a mighty flourish on the knocker of our +inner door. +</p> + +<p> +“Brodribb, by Jingo!” I exclaimed, and hurried across the room to let +him in. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Jervis,” he said as I invited him to enter, “I am not coming in. +Don’t want to disturb you at this time of night. I’ve just called to +make an appointment for to-morrow with a client.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is the client’s name Bonney?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +He started and gazed at me in astonishment. “Gad, Jervis!” he +exclaimed, “you are getting as bad as Thorndyke. How the deuce did you +know that she was my client?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind how I know. It is our business to know everything in these +chambers. But if your appointment concerns Miss Mabel Bonney, for the +Lord’s sake come in and give Thorndyke a chance of a night’s rest. At +present, he is on broken bottles, as Mr. Bumble would express it.” +</p> + +<p> +On this persuasion, Mr. Brodribb entered, nothing loath—very much the +reverse, in fact—and having bestowed a jovial greeting on Thorndyke, +glanced approvingly round the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” said he, “you look very cosy. If you are really sure I am +not——” +</p> + +<p> +I cut him short by propelling him gently towards the fire, beside +which I deposited him in an easy chair, while Thorndyke pressed the +electric bell which rang up in the laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Brodribb, spreading himself out comfortably before the +fire like a handsome old Tom-cat, “if you are going to let me give you +a few particulars—but perhaps you would rather that I should not talk +shop.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now you know perfectly well, Brodribb,” said Thorndyke, “that ‘shop’ +is the breath of life to us all. Let us have those particulars.” +</p> + +<p> +Brodribb sighed contentedly and placed his toes on the fender (and at +this moment the door opened softly and Polton looked into the room. He +took a single, understanding glance at our visitor and withdrew, +shutting the door without a sound.) +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad,” pursued Brodribb, “to have this opportunity of a +preliminary chat, because there are certain things that one can say +better when the client is not present; and I am deeply interested in +Miss Bonney’s affairs. The crisis in those affairs which has brought +me here is of quite recent date—in fact, it dates from this evening. +But I know your partiality for having events related in their proper +sequence, so I will leave to-day’s happenings for the moment and tell +you the story—the whole of which is material to the case—from the +beginning.” +</p> + +<p> +Here there was a slight interruption, due to Polton’s noiseless entry +with a tray on which was a decanter, a biscuit box, and three port +glasses. This he deposited on a small table, which he placed within +convenient reach of our guest. Then, with a glance of altruistic +satisfaction at our old friend, he stole out like a benevolent ghost. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear, dear!” exclaimed Brodribb, beaming on the decanter, “this is +really too bad. You ought not to indulge me in this way.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Brodribb,” replied Thorndyke, “you are a benefactor to us. +You give us a pretext for taking a glass of port. We can’t drink +alone, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should, if I had a cellar like yours,” chuckled Brodribb, sniffing +ecstatically at his glass. He took a sip, with his eyes closed, +savoured it solemnly, shook his head, and set the glass down on the +table. +</p> + +<p> +“To return to our case,” he resumed; “Miss Bonney is the daughter of a +solicitor, Harold Bonney—you may remember him. He had offices in +Bedford Row; and there, one morning, a client came to him and asked +him to take care of some property while he, the said client, ran over +to Paris, where he had some urgent business. The property in question +was a collection of pearls of most unusual size and value, forming a +great necklace, which had been unstrung for the sake of portability. +It is not clear where they came from, but as the transaction occurred +soon after the Russian Revolution, we may make a guess. At any rate, +there they were, packed loosely in a leather bag, the string of which +was sealed with the owner’s seal. +</p> + +<p> +“Bonney seems to have been rather casual about the affair. He gave the +client a receipt for the bag, stating the nature of the contents, +which he had not seen, and deposited it, in the client’s presence, in +the safe in his private office. Perhaps he intended to take it to the +bank or transfer it to his strong-room, but it is evident that he did +neither; for his managing clerk, who kept the second key of the +strong-room—without which the room could not be opened—knew nothing +of the transaction. When he went home at about seven o’clock, he left +Bonney hard at work in his office, and there is no doubt that the +pearls were still in the safe. +</p> + +<p> +“That night, at about a quarter to nine, it happened that a couple of +C.I.D. officers were walking up Bedford Row when they saw three men +come out of one of the houses. Two of them turned up towards +Theobald’s Road, but the third came south, towards them. As he passed +them, they both recognized him as a Japanese named Uyenishi, who was +believed to be a member of a cosmopolitan gang and whom the police +were keeping under observation. Naturally, their suspicions were +aroused. The first two men had hurried round the corner and were out +of sight; and when they turned to look after Uyenishi, he had mended +his pace considerably and was looking back at them. Thereupon one of +the officers, named Barker, decided to follow the Jap, while the +other, Holt, reconnoitred the premises. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, as soon as Barker turned, the Japanese broke into a run. It was +just such a night as this: dark and slightly foggy. In order to keep +his man in sight, Barker had to run, too; and he found that he had a +sprinter to deal with. From the bottom of Bedford Row, Uyenishi darted +across and shot down Hand Court like a lamplighter. Barker followed, +but at the Holborn end his man was nowhere to be seen. However, he +presently learned from a man at a shop door that the fugitive had run +past and turned up Brownlow Street, so off he went again in pursuit. +But when he got to the top of the street, back in Bedford Row, he was +done. There was no sign of the man, and no one about from whom he +could make inquiries. All he could do was to cross the road and walk +up Bedford Row to see if Holt had made any discoveries. +</p> + +<p> +“As he was trying to identify the house, his colleague came out on to +the doorstep and beckoned him in; and this was the story that he told. +He had recognized the house by the big lamp-standard; and as the place +was all dark, he had gone into the entry and tried the office door. +Finding it unlocked, he had entered the clerks’ office, lit the gas, +and tried the door of the private office, but found it locked. He +knocked at it, but getting no answer, had a good look round the +clerks’ office; and there, presently, on the floor in a dark corner, +he found a key. This he tried in the door of the private office, and +finding that it fitted, turned it and opened the door. As he did so, +the light from the outer office fell on the body of a man lying on the +floor just inside. +</p> + +<p> +“A moment’s inspection showed that the man had been murdered—first +knocked on the head and then finished with a knife. Examination of the +pockets showed that the dead man was Harold Bonney, and also that no +robbery from the person seemed to have been committed. Nor was there +any sign of any other kind of robbery. Nothing seemed to have been +disturbed, and the safe had not been broken into, though that was not +very conclusive, as the safe key was in the dead man’s pocket. +However, a murder had been committed, and obviously Uyenishi was +either the murderer or an accessory; so Holt had, at once, rung up +Scotland Yard on the office telephone, giving all the particulars. +</p> + +<p> +“I may say at once that Uyenishi disappeared completely and at once. +He never went to his lodgings at Limehouse, for the police were there +before he could have arrived. A lively hue and cry was kept up. +Photographs of the wanted man were posted outside every +police-station, and a watch was set at all the ports. But he was never +found. He must have got away at once on some outward-bound tramp from +the Thames. And there we will leave him for the moment. +</p> + +<p> +“At first it was thought that nothing had been stolen, since the +managing clerk could not discover that anything was missing. But a few +days later the client returned from Paris, and presenting his receipt, +asked for his pearls. But the pearls had vanished. Clearly they had +been the object of the crime. The robbers must have known about them +and traced them to the office. Of course the safe had been opened with +its own key, which was then replaced in the dead man’s pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I was poor Bonney’s executor, and in that capacity I denied his +liability in respect of the pearls on the ground that he was a +gratuitous bailee—there being no evidence that any consideration had +been demanded—and that being murdered cannot be construed as +negligence. But Miss Mabel, who was practically the sole legatee, +insisted on accepting liability. She said that the pearls could have +been secured in the bank or the strong-room, and that she was morally, +if not legally, liable for their loss; and she insisted on handing to +the owner the full amount at which he valued them. It was a wildly +foolish proceeding, for he would certainly have accepted half the sum. +But still, I take my hat off to a person—man or woman—who can accept +poverty in preference to a broken covenant”; and here Brodribb, being +in fact, that sort of person himself, had to be consoled with a +replenished glass. +</p> + +<p> +“And mind you,” he resumed, “when I speak of poverty, I wish to be +taken literally. The estimated value of those pearls was fifty +thousand pounds—if you can imagine anyone out of Bedlam giving such a +sum for a parcel of trash like that; and when poor Mabel Bonney had +paid it, she was left with the prospect of having to spread her butter +mighty thin for the rest of her life. As a matter of fact, she has had +to sell one after another of her little treasures to pay just her +current expenses, and I’m hanged if I can see how she is going to +carry on when she has sold the last of them. But there, I mustn’t take +up your time with her private troubles. Let us return to our muttons. +</p> + +<p> +“First, as to the pearls. They were never traced, and it seems +probable that they were never disposed of. For, you see, pearls are +different from any other kind of gems. You can cut up a big diamond, +but you can’t cut up a big pearl. And the great value of this necklace +was due not only to the size, the perfect shape and ‘orient’ of the +separate pearls, but to the fact that the whole set was perfectly +matched. To break up the necklace was to destroy a good part of its +value. +</p> + +<p> +“And now as to our friend Uyenishi. He disappeared, as I have said; +but he reappeared at Los Angeles, in custody of the police, charged +with robbery and murder. He was taken red-handed and was duly +convicted and sentenced to death; but for some reason—or more +probably, for no reason, as we should think—the sentence was commuted +to imprisonment for life. Under these circumstances, the English +police naturally took no action, especially as they really had no +evidence against him. +</p> + +<p> +“Now Uyenishi was, by trade, a metal-worker; a maker of those pretty +trifles that are so dear to the artistic Japanese, and when he was in +prison he was allowed to set up a little workshop and practise his +trade on a small scale. Among other things that he made was a little +casket in the form of a seated figure, which he said he wanted to give +to his brother as a keepsake. I don’t know whether any permission was +granted for him to make this gift, but that is of no consequence; for +Uyenishi got influenza and was carried off in a few days by pneumonia; +and the prison authorities learned that his brother had been killed, a +week or two previously, in a shooting affair at San Francisco. So the +casket remained on their hands. +</p> + +<p> +“About this time, Miss Bonney was invited to accompany an American +lady on a visit to California, and accepted gratefully. While she was +there she paid a visit to the prison to inquire whether Uyenishi had +ever made any kind of statement concerning the missing pearls. Here +she heard of Uyenishi’s recent death; and the governor of the prison, +as he could not give her any information, handed over to her the +casket as a sort of memento. This transaction came to the knowledge of +the press, and—well, you know what the Californian press is like. +There were ‘some comments,’ as they would say, and quite an assortment +of Japanese, of shady antecedents, applied at the prison to have the +casket ‘restored’ to them as Uyenishi’s heirs. Then Miss Bonney’s +rooms at the hotel were raided by burglars—but the casket was in the +hotel strong-room—and Miss Bonney and her hostess were shadowed by +various undesirables in such a disturbing fashion that the two ladies +became alarmed and secretly made their way to New York. But there +another burglary occurred, with the same unsuccessful result, and the +shadowing began again. Finally, Miss Bonney, feeling that her presence +was a danger to her friend, decided to return to England, and managed +to get on board the ship without letting her departure be known in +advance. +</p> + +<p> +“But even in England she has not been left in peace. She has had an +uncomfortable feeling of being watched and attended, and has seemed to +be constantly meeting Japanese men in the streets, especially in the +vicinity of her house. Of course, all the fuss is about this infernal +casket; and when she told me what was happening, I promptly popped the +thing in my pocket and took it to my office, where I stowed it in the +strong-room. And there, of course, it ought to have remained. But it +didn’t. One day Miss Bonney told me that she was sending some small +things to a loan exhibition of oriental works of art at the South +Kensington Museum, and she wished to include the casket. I urged her +strongly to do nothing of the kind, but she persisted; and the end of +it was that we went to the museum together, with her pottery and stuff +in a handbag and the casket in my pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a most imprudent thing to do, for there the beastly casket +was, for several months, exposed in a glass case for anyone to see, +with her name on the label; and what was worse, full particulars of +the origin of the thing. However, nothing happened while it was +there—the museum is not an easy place to steal from—and all went +well until it was time to remove the things after the close of the +exhibition. Now, to-day was the appointed day, and, as on the previous +occasion, she and I went to the museum together. But the unfortunate +thing is that we didn’t come away together. Her other exhibits were +all pottery, and these were dealt with first, so that she had her +handbag packed and was ready to go before they had begun on the +metal-work cases. As we were not going the same way, it didn’t seem +necessary for her to wait; so she went off with her bag and I stayed +behind until the casket was released, when I put it in my pocket and +went home, where I locked the thing up again in the strong-room. +</p> + +<p> +“It was about seven when I got home. A little after eight I heard the +telephone ring down in the office, and down I went, cursing the +untimely ringer, who turned out to be a policeman at St. George’s +Hospital. He said he had found Miss Bonney lying unconscious in the +street and had taken her to the hospital, where she had been detained +for a while, but she was now recovered and he was taking her home. She +would like me, if possible, to go and see her at once. Well, of +course, I set off forthwith and got to her house a few minutes after +her arrival, and just after you had left. +</p> + +<p> +“She was a good deal upset, so I didn’t worry her with many questions, +but she gave me a short account of her misadventure, which amounted to +this: She had started to walk home from the museum along the Brompton +Road, and she was passing down a quiet street between that and Fulham +Road when she heard soft footsteps behind her. The next moment, a +scarf or shawl was thrown over her head and drawn tightly round her +neck. At the same moment, the bag was snatched from her hand. That is +all that she remembers, for she was half-suffocated and so terrified +that she fainted, and knew no more until she found herself in a cab +with two policemen, who were taking her to the hospital. +</p> + +<p> +“Now it is obvious that her assailants were in search of that damned +casket, for the bag had been broken open and searched, but nothing +taken or damaged; which suggests the Japanese again, for a British +thief would have smashed the crockery. I found your card there, and I +put it to Miss Bonney that we had better ask you to help us—I told +her all about you—and she agreed emphatically. So that is why I am +here, drinking your port and robbing you of your night’s rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what do you want me to do?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever you think best,” was the cheerful reply. “In the first +place, this nuisance must be put a stop to—this shadowing and hanging +about. But apart from that, you must see that there is something queer +about this accursed casket. The beastly thing is of no intrinsic +value. The museum man turned up his nose at it. But it evidently has +some extrinsic value, and no small value either. If it is good enough +for these devils to follow it all the way from the States, as they +seem to have done, it is good enough for us to try to find out what +its value is. That is where you come in. I propose to bring Miss +Bonney to see you to-morrow, and I will bring the infernal casket, +too. Then you will ask her a few questions, take a look at the +casket—through the microscope, if necessary—and tell us all about it +in your usual necromantic way.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke laughed as he refilled our friend’s glass. “If faith will +move mountains, Brodribb,” said he, “you ought to have been a civil +engineer. But it is certainly a rather intriguing problem.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” exclaimed the old solicitor; “then it’s all right. I’ve known +you a good many years, but I’ve never known you to be stumped; and you +are not going to be stumped now. What time shall I bring her? +Afternoon or evening would suit her best.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” replied Thorndyke; “bring her to tea—say, five o’clock. +How will that do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Excellently; and here’s good luck to the adventure.” He drained his +glass, and the decanter being now empty, he rose, shook our hands +warmly, and took his departure in high spirits. +</p> + +<p> +It was with a very lively interest that I looked forward to the +prospective visit. Like Thorndyke, I found the case rather intriguing. +For it was quite clear, as our shrewd old friend had said, that there +was something more than met the eye in the matter of this casket. +Hence, on the following afternoon, when, on the stroke of five, +footsteps became audible on our stairs, I awaited the arrival of our +new client with keen curiosity, both as to herself and her mysterious +property. +</p> + +<p> +To tell the truth, the lady was better worth looking at than the +casket. At the first glance, I was strongly prepossessed in her +favour, and so, I think, was Thorndyke. Not that she was a beauty, +though comely enough. But she was an example of a type that seems to +be growing rarer; quiet, gentle, soft-spoken, and a lady to her +finger-tips; a little sad-faced and care-worn, with a streak or two of +white in her prettily-disposed black hair, though she could not have +been much over thirty-five. Altogether a very gracious and winning +personality. +</p> + +<p> +When we had been presented to her by Brodribb—who treated her as if +she had been a royal personage—and had enthroned her in the most +comfortable easy-chair, we inquired as to her health, and were duly +thanked for the salvage of the bag. Then Polton brought in the tray, +with an air that seemed to demand an escort of choristers; the tea was +poured out, and the informal proceedings began. +</p> + +<p> +She had not, however, much to tell; for she had not seen her +assailants, and the essential facts of the case had been fully +presented in Brodribb’s excellent summary. After a very few questions, +therefore, we came to the next stage; which was introduced by +Brodribb’s taking from his pocket a small parcel which he proceeded to +open. +</p> + +<p> +“There,” said he, “that is the <i>fons et origo mali</i>. Not much to look +at, I think you will agree.” He set the object down on the table and +glared at it malevolently, while Thorndyke and I regarded it with a +more impersonal interest. It was not much to look at. Just an ordinary +Japanese casket in the form of a squat, shapeless figure with a silly +little grinning face, of which the head and shoulders opened on a +hinge; a pleasant enough object, with its quiet, warm colouring, but +certainly not a masterpiece of art. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke picked it up and turned it over slowly for a preliminary +inspection; then he went on to examine it detail by detail, watched +closely, in his turn, by Brodribb and me. Slowly and methodically, his +eye—fortified by a watchmaker’s eyeglass—travelled over every part +of the exterior. Then he opened it, and having examined the inside of +the lid, scrutinized the bottom from within, long and attentively. +Finally, he turned the casket upside down and examined the bottom from +without, giving to it the longest and most rigorous inspection of +all—which puzzled me somewhat, for the bottom was absolutely plain. +At length, he passed the casket and the eyeglass to me without +comment. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Brodribb, “what is the verdict?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is of no value as a work of art,” replied Thorndyke. “The body and +lid are just castings of common white metal—an antimony alloy, I +should say. The bronze colour is lacquer.” +</p> + +<p> +“So the museum man remarked,” said Brodribb. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” continued Thorndyke, “there is one very odd thing about it. The +only piece of fine metal in it is in the part which matters least. The +bottom is a separate plate of the alloy known to the Japanese as +Shakudo—an alloy of copper and gold.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Brodribb, “the museum man noted that, too, and couldn’t +make out why it had been put there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” Thorndyke continued, “there is another anomalous feature; the +inside of the bottom is covered with elaborate decoration—just the +place where decoration is most inappropriate, since it would be +covered up by the contents of the casket. And, again, this decoration +is etched; not engraved or chased. But etching is a very unusual +process for this purpose, if it is ever used at all by Japanese +metal-workers. My impression is that it is not; for it is most +unsuitable for decorative purposes. That is all that I observe, so +far.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what do you infer from your observations?” Brodribb asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to think the matter over,” was the reply. “There is an +obvious anomaly, which must have some significance. But I won’t embark +on speculative opinions at this stage. I should like, however, to take +one or two photographs of the casket, for reference; but that will +occupy some time. You will hardly want to wait so long.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Brodribb. “But Miss Bonney is coming with me to my office +to go over some documents and discuss a little business. When we have +finished, I will come back and fetch the confounded thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need for that,” replied Thorndyke. “As soon as I have +done what is necessary, I will bring it up to your place.” +</p> + +<p> +To this arrangement Brodribb agreed readily, and he and his client +prepared to depart. I rose, too, and as I happened to have a call to +make in Old Square, Lincoln’s Inn, I asked permission to walk with +them. +</p> + +<p> +As we came out into King’s Bench Walk I noticed a smallish, +gentlemanly-looking man who had just passed our entry and now turned +in at the one next door; and by the light of the lamp in the entry he +looked to me like a Japanese. I thought Miss Bonney had observed him, +too, but she made no remark, and neither did I. But, passing up Inner +Temple Lane, we nearly overtook two other men, who—though I got but a +back view of them and the light was feeble enough—aroused my +suspicions by their neat, small figures. As we approached, they +quickened their pace, and one of them looked back over his shoulder; +and then my suspicions were confirmed, for it was an unmistakable +Japanese face that looked round at us. Miss Bonney saw that I had +observed the men, for she remarked, as they turned sharply at the +Cloisters and entered Pump Court: +</p> + +<p> +“You see, I am still haunted by Japanese.” +</p> + +<p> +“I noticed them,” said Brodribb. “They are probably law students. But +we may as well be companionable;” and with this, he, too, headed for +Pump Court. +</p> + +<p> +We followed our oriental friends across the Lane into Fountain Court, +and through that and Devereux Court out to Temple Bar, where we parted +from them; they turning westward and we crossing to Bell Yard, up +which we walked, entering New Square by the Carey Street gate. At +Brodribb’s doorway we halted and looked back, but no one was in sight. +I accordingly went my way, promising to return anon to hear +Thorndyke’s report, and the lawyer and his client disappeared through +the portal. +</p> + +<p> +My business occupied me longer than I had expected, but nevertheless, +when I arrived at Brodribb’s premises—where he lived in chambers over +his office—Thorndyke had not yet made his appearance. A quarter of an +hour later, however, we heard his brisk steps on the stairs, and as +Brodribb threw the door open, he entered and produced the casket from +his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Brodribb, taking it from him and locking it, for the time +being, in a drawer, “has the oracle spoken; and if so, what did he +say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oracles,” replied Thorndyke, “have a way of being more concise than +explicit. Before I attempt to interpret the message, I should like to +view the scene of the escape; to see if there was any intelligible +reason why this man, Uyenishi, should have returned up Brownlow Street +into what must have been the danger zone. I think that is a material +question.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Brodribb, with evident eagerness, “let us all walk up and +have a look at the confounded place. It is quite close by.” +</p> + +<p> +We all agreed instantly, two of us, at least, being on the tip-toe of +expectation. For Thorndyke, who habitually understated his results, +had virtually admitted that the casket had told him something; and as +we walked up the Square to the gate in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, I watched +him furtively, trying to gather from his impassive face a hint as to +what the something amounted to, and wondering how the movements of the +fugitive bore on the solution of the mystery. Brodribb was similarly +occupied, and as we crossed from Great Turnstile and took our way up +Brownlow Street, I could see that his excitement was approaching +bursting-point. +</p> + +<p> +At the top of the street Thorndyke paused and looked up and down the +rather dismal thoroughfare which forms a continuation of Bedford Row +and bears its name. Then he crossed to the paved island surrounding +the pump which stands in the middle of the road, and from thence +surveyed the entrances to Brownlow Street and Hand Court; and then he +turned and looked thoughtfully at the pump. +</p> + +<p> +“A quaint old survivor, this,” he remarked, tapping the iron shell +with his knuckles. “There is a similar one, you may remember, in Queen +Square, and another at Aldgate. But that is still in use.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Brodribb assented, almost dancing with impatience and inwardly +damning the pump, as I could see, “I’ve noticed it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” Thorndyke proceeded, in a reflective tone, “they had to +remove the handle. But it was rather a pity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it was,” growled Brodribb, whose complexion was rapidly +developing affinities to that of a pickled cabbage, “but what the +d——” +</p> + +<p> +Here he broke off short and glared silently at Thorndyke, who had +raised his arm and squeezed his hand into the opening once occupied by +the handle. He groped in the interior with an expression of placid +interest, and presently reported: “The barrel is still there, and so, +apparently, is the plunger—” (Here I heard Brodribb mutter huskily, +“Damn the barrel and the plunger too!”) “but my hand is rather large +for the exploration. Would you, Miss Bonney, mind slipping your hand +in and telling me if I am right?” +</p> + +<p> +We all gazed at Thorndyke in dismay, but in a moment Miss Bonney +recovered from her astonishment, and with a deprecating smile, half +shy, half amused, she slipped off her glove, and reaching up—it was +rather high for her—inserted her hand into the narrow slit. Brodribb +glared at her and gobbled like a turkey-cock, and I watched her with a +sudden suspicion that something was going to happen. Nor was I +mistaken. For, as I looked, the shy, puzzled smile faded from her face +and was succeeded by an expression of incredulous astonishment. Slowly +she withdrew her hand, and as it came out of the slit it dragged +something after it. I started forward, and by the light of the lamp +above the pump I could see that the object was a leather bag secured +by a string from which hung a broken seal. +</p> + +<p> +“It can’t be!” she gasped as, with trembling fingers, she untied the +string. Then, as she peered into the open mouth, she uttered a little +cry. +</p> + +<p> +“It is! It is! It is the necklace!” +</p> + +<p> +Brodribb was speechless with amazement. So was I; and I was still +gazing open-mouthed at the bag in Miss Bonney’s hands when I felt +Thorndyke touch my arm. I turned quickly and found him offering me an +automatic pistol. +</p> + +<p> +“Stand by, Jervis,” he said quietly, looking towards Gray’s Inn. +</p> + +<p> +I looked in the same direction, and then perceived three men stealing +round the corner from Jockey’s Fields. Brodribb saw them, too, and +snatching the bag of pearls from his client’s hands, buttoned it into +his breast pocket and placed himself before its owner, grasping his +stick with a war-like air. The three men filed along the pavement +until they were opposite us, when they turned simultaneously and bore +down on the pump, each man, as I noticed, holding his right hand +behind him. In a moment, Thorndyke’s hand, grasping a pistol, flew +up—as did mine, also—and he called out sharply: +</p> + +<p> +“Stop! If any man moves a hand, I fire.” +</p> + +<p> +The challenge brought them up short, evidently unprepared for this +kind of reception. What would have happened next it is impossible to +guess. But at this moment a police whistle sounded and two constables +ran out from Hand Court. The whistle was instantly echoed from the +direction of Warwick Court, whence two more constabulary figures +appeared through the postern gate of Gray’s Inn. Our three attendants +hesitated but for an instant. Then, with one accord, they turned tail +and flew like the wind round into Jockey’s Fields, with the whole +posse of constables close on their heels. +</p> + +<p> +“Remarkable coincidence,” said Brodribb, “that those policemen should +happen to be on the look-out. Or isn’t it a coincidence?” +</p> + +<p> +“I telephoned to the station superintendent before I started,” replied +Thorndyke, “warning him of a possible breach of the peace at this +spot.” +</p> + +<p> +Brodribb chuckled. “You’re a wonderful man, Thorndyke. You think of +everything. I wonder if the police will catch those fellows.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is no concern of ours,” replied Thorndyke. “We’ve got the pearls, +and that finishes the business. There will be no more shadowing, in +any case.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Bonney heaved a comfortable little sigh and glanced gratefully at +Thorndyke. “You can have no idea what a relief that is!” she +exclaimed; “to say nothing of the treasure-trove.” +</p> + +<p> +We waited some time, but as neither the fugitives nor the constables +reappeared, we presently made our way back down Brownlow Street. And +there it was that Brodribb had an inspiration. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you what,” said he. “I will just pop these things in my +strong-room—they will be perfectly safe there until the bank opens +to-morrow—and then we’ll go and have a nice little dinner. I’ll pay +the piper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed you won’t!” exclaimed Miss Bonney. “This is my thanksgiving +festival, and the benevolent wizard shall be the guest of the +evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, my dear,” agreed Brodribb. “I will pay and charge it to +the estate. But I stipulate that the benevolent wizard shall tell us +exactly what the oracle said. That is essential to the preservation of +my sanity.” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall have his <i>ipsissima verba</i>,” Thorndyke promised; and the +resolution was carried, <i>nem. con.</i> +</p> + +<p> +An hour and a half later we were seated around a table in a private +room of a café to which Mr. Brodribb had conducted us. I may not +divulge its whereabouts, though I may, perhaps, hint that we +approached it by way of Wardour Street. At any rate, we had dined, +even to the fulfilment of Brodribb’s ideal, and coffee and liqueurs +furnished a sort of gastronomic doxology. Brodribb had lighted a cigar +and Thorndyke had produced a vicious-looking little black cheroot, +which he regarded fondly and then returned to its abiding-place as +unsuited to the present company. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Brodribb, watching Thorndyke fill his pipe (as understudy +of the cheroot aforesaid), “we are waiting to hear the words of the +oracle.” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall hear them,” Thorndyke replied. “There were only five of +them. But first, there are certain introductory matters to be disposed +of. The solution of this problem is based on two well-known physical +facts, one metallurgical and the other optical.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” said Brodribb. “But you must temper the wind to the shorn lamb, +you know, Thorndyke. Miss Bonney and I are not scientists.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will put the matter quite simply, but you must have the facts. The +first relates to the properties of malleable metals—excepting iron +and steel—and especially of copper and its alloys. If a plate of such +metal or alloy—say, bronze, for instance—is made red-hot and +quenched in water, it becomes quite soft and flexible—the reverse of +what happens in the case of iron. Now, if such a plate of softened +metal be placed on a steel anvil and hammered, it becomes extremely +hard and brittle.” +</p> + +<p> +“I follow that,” said Brodribb. +</p> + +<p> +“Then see what follows. If, instead of hammering the soft plate, you +put on it the edge of a blunt chisel and strike on that chisel a sharp +blow, you produce an indented line. Now the plate remains soft; but +the metal forming the indented line has been hammered and has become +hard. There is now a line of hard metal on the soft plate. Is that +clear?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly,” replied Brodribb; and Thorndyke accordingly continued: +</p> + +<p> +“The second fact is this: If a beam of light falls on a polished +surface which reflects it, and if that surface is turned through a +given angle, the beam of light is deflected through double that +angle.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” grunted Brodribb. “Yes. No doubt. I hope we are not going to +get into any deeper waters, Thorndyke.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are not,” replied the latter, smiling urbanely. “We are now going +to consider the application of these facts. Have you ever seen a +Japanese magic mirror?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never; nor even heard of such a thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“They are bronze mirrors, just like the ancient Greek or Etruscan +mirrors—which are probably ‘magic’ mirrors, too. A typical specimen +consists of a circular or oval plate of bronze, highly polished on the +face and decorated on the back with chased ornament—commonly a dragon +or some such device—and furnished with a handle. The ornament is, as +I have said, chased; that is to say, it is executed in indented lines +made with chasing tools, which are, in effect, small chisels, more or +less blunt, which are struck with a chasing-hammer. +</p> + +<p> +“Now these mirrors have a very singular property. Although the face is +perfectly plain, as a mirror should be, yet, if a beam of sunlight is +caught on it and reflected, say, on to a white wall, the round or oval +patch of light on the wall is not a plain light patch. It shows quite +clearly the ornament on the back of the mirror.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how extraordinary!” exclaimed Miss Bonney. “It sounds quite +incredible.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed. “And yet the explanation is quite simple. +Professor Sylvanus Thompson pointed it out years ago. It is based on +the facts which I have just stated to you. The artist who makes one of +these mirrors begins, naturally, by annealing the metal until it is +quite soft. Then he chases the design on the back, and this design +then shows slightly on the face. But he now grinds the face perfectly +flat with fine emery and water so that the traces of the design are +completely obliterated. Finally, he polishes the face with rouge on a +soft buff. +</p> + +<p> +“But now observe that wherever the chasing-tool has made a line, the +metal is hardened right through, so that the design is in hard metal +on a soft matrix. But the hardened metal resists the wear of the +polishing buff more than the soft metal does. The result is that the +act of polishing causes the design to appear in faint relief on the +face. Its projection is infinitesimal—less than the +hundred-thousandth of an inch—and totally invisible to the eye. But, +minute as it is, owing to the optical law which I mentioned—which, in +effect, doubles the projection—it is enough to influence the +reflection of light. As a consequence, every chased line appears on +the patch of light as a dark line with a bright border, and so the +whole design is visible. I think that is quite clear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfectly clear,” Miss Bonney and Brodribb agreed. +</p> + +<p> +“But now,” pursued Thorndyke, “before we come to the casket, there is +a very curious corollary which I must mention. Supposing our artist, +having finished the mirror, should proceed with a scraper to erase the +design from the back; and on the blank, scraped surface to etch a new +design. The process of etching does not harden the metal, so the new +design does not appear on the reflection. But the old design would. +For although it was invisible on the face and had been erased from the +back, it would still exist in the substance of the metal and continue +to influence the reflection. The odd result would be that the design +which would be visible in the patch of light on the wall would be a +different one from that on the back of the mirror. +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt, you see what I am leading up to. But I will take the +investigation of the casket as it actually occurred. It was obvious, +at once, that the value of the thing was extrinsic. It had no +intrinsic value, either in material or workmanship. What could that +value be? The clear suggestion was that the casket was the vehicle of +some secret message or information. It had been made by Uyenishi, who +had almost certainly had possession of the missing pearls, and who had +been so closely pursued that he never had an opportunity to +communicate with his confederates. It was to be given to a man who was +almost certainly one of those confederates; and, since the pearls had +never been traced, there was a distinct probability that the +(presumed) message referred to some hiding-place in which Uyenishi had +concealed them during his flight, and where they were probably still +hidden. +</p> + +<p> +“With these considerations in my mind, I examined the casket, and this +was what I found. The thing, itself, was a common white-metal casting, +made presentable by means of lacquer. But the white metal bottom had +been cut out and replaced by a plate of fine bronze—Shakudo. The +inside of this was covered with an etched design, which immediately +aroused my suspicions. Turning it over, I saw that the outside of the +bottom was not only smooth and polished; it was a true mirror. It gave +a perfectly undistorted reflection of my face. At once, I suspected +that the mirror held the secret; that the message, whatever it was, +had been chased on the back, had then been scraped away and an etched +design worked on it to hide the traces of the scraper. +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as you were gone, I took the casket up to the laboratory and +threw a strong beam of parallel light from a condenser on the bottom, +catching the reflection on a sheet of white paper. The result was just +what I had expected. On the bright oval patch on the paper could be +seen the shadowy, but quite distinct, forms of five words in the +Japanese character. +</p> + +<p> +“I was in somewhat of a dilemma, for I have no knowledge of Japanese, +whereas the circumstances were such as to make it rather unsafe to +employ a translator. However, as I do just know the Japanese +characters and possess a Japanese dictionary, I determined to make an +attempt to fudge out the words myself. If I failed, I could then look +for a discreet translator. +</p> + +<p> +“However, it proved to be easier than I had expected, for the words +were detached; they did not form a sentence, and so involved no +questions of grammar. I spelt out the first word and then looked it up +in the dictionary. The translation was ‘pearls.’ This looked hopeful, +and I went on to the next, of which the translation was ‘pump.’ The +third word floored me. It seemed to be ‘jokkis,’ or ‘jokkish,’ but +there was no such word in the dictionary; so I turned to the next +word, hoping that it would explain its predecessor. And it did. The +fourth word was ‘fields,’ and the last word was evidently ‘London.’ So +the entire group read: ‘Pearls, Pump, Jokkis, Fields, London.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Now, there is no pump, so far as I know, in Jockey’s Fields, but +there is one in Bedford Row close to the corner of the Fields, and +exactly opposite the end of Brownlow Street. And by Mr. Brodribb’s +account, Uyenishi, in his flight, ran down Hand Court and returned up +Brownlow Street, as if he were making for the pump. As the latter is +disused and the handle-hole is high up, well out of the way of +children, it offers quite a good temporary hiding-place, and I had no +doubt that the bag of pearls had been poked into it and was probably +there still. I was tempted to go at once and explore; but I was +anxious that the discovery should be made by Miss Bonney, herself, and +I did not dare to make a preliminary exploration for fear of being +shadowed. If I had found the treasure I should have had to take it and +give it to her; which would have been a flat ending to the adventure. +So I had to dissemble and be the occasion of much smothered +objurgation on the part of my friend, Brodribb. And that is the whole +story of my interview with the oracle.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +Our mantelpiece is becoming a veritable museum of trophies of victory, +the gifts of grateful clients. Among them is a squat, shapeless figure +of a Japanese gentleman of the old school, with a silly, grinning +little face—The Magic Casket. But its possession is no longer a +menace. Its sting has been drawn; its magic is exploded; its secret is +exposed, and its glory departed. +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch02"> +II.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE CONTENTS OF A MARE’S NEST</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">It</span> is very unsatisfactory,” said Mr. Stalker, of the ‘Griffin’ Life +Assurance Company, at the close of a consultation on a doubtful claim. +“I suppose we shall have to pay up.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure you will,” said Thorndyke. “The death was properly +certified, the deceased is buried, and you have not a single fact with +which to support an application for further inquiry.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Stalker agreed. “But I am not satisfied. I don’t believe that +doctor really knew what she died from. I wish cremation were more +usual.” +</p> + +<p> +“So, I have no doubt, has many a poisoner,” Thorndyke remarked dryly. +</p> + +<p> +Stalker laughed, but stuck to his point. “I know you don’t agree,” +said he, “but from our point of view it is much more satisfactory to +know that the extra precautions have been taken. In a cremation case, +you have not to depend on the mere death certificate; you have the +cause of death verified by an independent authority, and it is +difficult to see how any miscarriage can occur.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke shook his head. “It is a delusion, Stalker. You can’t +provide in advance for unknown contingencies. In practice, your +special precautions degenerate into mere formalities. If the +circumstances of a death appear normal, the independent authority will +certify; if they appear abnormal, you won’t get a certificate at all. +And if suspicion arises only after the cremation has taken place, it +can neither be confirmed nor rebutted.” +</p> + +<p> +“My point is,” said Stalker, “that the searching examination would +lead to discovery of a crime before cremation.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is the intention,” Thorndyke admitted. “But no examination, +short of an exhaustive post-mortem, would make it safe to destroy a +body so that no reconsideration of the cause of death would be +possible.” +</p> + +<p> +Stalker smiled as he picked up his hat. “Well,” he said, “to a cobbler +there is nothing like leather, and I suppose that to a toxicologist +there is nothing like an exhumation,” and with this parting shot he +took his leave. +</p> + +<p> +We had not seen the last of him, however. In the course of the same +week he looked in to consult us on a fresh matter. +</p> + +<p> +“A rather queer case has turned up,” said he. “I don’t know that we +are deeply concerned in it, but we should like to have your opinion as +to how we stand. The position is this: Eighteen months ago, a man +named Ingle insured with us for fifteen hundred pounds, and he was +then accepted as a first-class life. He has recently died—apparently +from heart failure, the heart being described as fatty and +dilated—and his wife, Sibyl, who is the sole legatee and executrix, +has claimed payment. But just as we were making arrangements to pay, a +caveat has been entered by a certain Margaret Ingle, who declares that +she is the wife of the deceased and claims the estate as next-of-kin. +She states that the alleged wife, Sibyl, is a widow named Huggard who +contracted a bigamous marriage with the deceased, knowing that he had +a wife living.” +</p> + +<p> +“An interesting situation,” commented Thorndyke, “but, as you say, it +doesn’t particularly concern you. It is a matter for the Probate +Court.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Stalker. “But that is not all. Margaret Ingle not only +charges the other woman with bigamy; she accuses her of having made +away with the deceased.” +</p> + +<p> +“On what grounds?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, the reasons she gives are rather shadowy. She states that +Sibyl’s husband, James Huggard, died under suspicious +circumstances—there seems to have been some suspicion that he had +been poisoned—and she asserts that Ingle was a healthy, sound man and +could not have died from the causes alleged.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is some reason in that,” said Thorndyke, “if he was really a +first-class life only eighteen months ago. As to the first husband, +Huggard, we should want some particulars: as to whether there was an +inquest, what was the alleged cause of death, and what grounds there +were for suspecting that he had been poisoned. If there really were +any suspicious circumstances, it would be advisable to apply to the +Home Office for an order to exhume the body of Ingle and verify the +cause of death.” +</p> + +<p> +Stalker smiled somewhat sheepishly. “Unfortunately,” said he, “that is +not possible. Ingle was cremated.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said Thorndyke, “that is, as you say, unfortunate. It clearly +increases the suspicion of poisoning, but destroys the means of +verifying that suspicion.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should tell you,” said Stalker, “that the cremation was in +accordance with the provisions of the will.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is not very material,” replied Thorndyke. “In fact, it rather +accentuates the suspicious aspect of the case; for the knowledge that +the death of the deceased would be followed by cremation might act as +a further inducement to get rid of him by poison. There were two death +certificates, of course?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The confirmatory certificate was given by Dr. Halbury, of +Wimpole Street. The medical attendant was a Dr. Barber, of Howland +Street. The deceased lived in Stock-Orchard Crescent, Holloway.” +</p> + +<p> +“A good distance from Howland Street,” Thorndyke remarked. “Do you +know if Halbury made a post-mortem? I don’t suppose he did.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, he didn’t,” replied Stalker. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “his certificate is worthless. You can’t tell +whether a man has died from heart failure by looking at his dead body. +He must have just accepted the opinion of the medical attendant. Do I +understand that you want me to look into this case?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you will. It is not really our concern whether or not the man was +poisoned, though I suppose we should have a claim on the estate of the +murderer. But we should like you to investigate the case; though how +the deuce you are going to do it I don’t quite see.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither do I,” said Thorndyke. “However, we must get into touch with +the doctors who signed the certificates, and possibly they may be able +to clear the whole matter up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said I, “there is the other body—that of Huggard—which +might be exhumed—unless he was cremated, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Thorndyke; “and for the purposes of the criminal law, +evidence of poisoning in that case would be sufficient. But it would +hardly help the Griffin Company, which is concerned exclusively with +Ingle deceased. Can you let us have a précis of the facts relating to +this case, Stalker?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have brought one with me,” was the reply; “a short statement, +giving names, addresses, dates, and other particulars. Here it is”; +and he handed Thorndyke a sheet of paper bearing a tabulated +statement. +</p> + +<p> +When Stalker had gone Thorndyke glanced rapidly through the précis +and then looked at his watch. “If we make our way to Wimpole Street at +once,” said he, “we ought to catch Halbury. That is obviously the +first thing to do. He signed the ‘C’ certificate, and we shall be able +to judge from what he tells us whether there is any possibility of +foul play. Shall we start now?” +</p> + +<p> +As I assented, he slipped the précis in his pocket and we set forth. +At the top of Middle Temple Lane we chartered a taxi by which we were +shortly deposited at Dr. Halbury’s door, and a few minutes later were +ushered into his consulting room, and found him shovelling a pile of +letters into the waste-paper basket. +</p> + +<p> +“How d’ye do?” he said briskly, holding out his hand. “I’m up to my +eyes in arrears, you see. Just back from my holiday. What can I do for +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“We have called,” said Thorndyke, “about a man named Ingle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ingle—Ingle,” repeated Halbury. “Now, let me see——” +</p> + +<p> +“Stock-Orchard Crescent, Holloway,” Thorndyke explained. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. I remember him. Well, how is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s dead,” replied Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Is he really?” exclaimed Halbury. “Now that shows how careful one +should be in one’s judgments. I half suspected that fellow of +malingering. He was supposed to have a dilated heart, but I couldn’t +make out any appreciable dilatation. There was excited, irregular +action. That was all. I had a suspicion that he had been dosing +himself with trinitrine. Reminded me of the cases of cordite chewing +that I used to meet with in South Africa. So he’s dead, after all. +Well, it’s queer. Do you know what the exact cause of death was?” +</p> + +<p> +“Failure of a dilated heart is the cause stated on the +certificates—the body was cremated; and the ‘C’ Certificate was +signed by you.” +</p> + +<p> +“By me!” exclaimed the physician. “Nonsense! It’s a mistake. I signed +a certificate for a Friendly Society—Mrs. Ingle brought it here for +me to sign—but I didn’t even know he was dead. Besides, I went away +for my holiday a few days after I saw the man, and only came back +yesterday. What makes you think I signed the death certificate?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke produced Stalker’s précis and handed it to Halbury, who +read out his own name and address with a puzzled frown. “This is an +extraordinary affair,” said he. “It will have to be looked into.” +</p> + +<p> +“It will, indeed,” assented Thorndyke; “especially as a suspicion of +poisoning has been raised.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” exclaimed Halbury. “Then it was trinitrine, you may depend. But +I suspected him unjustly. It was somebody else who was dosing him; +perhaps that sly-looking baggage of a wife of his. Is anyone in +particular suspected?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The accusation, such as it is, is against the wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m. Probably a true bill. But she’s done us. Artful devil. You can’t +get much evidence out of an urnful of ashes. Still, somebody has +forged my signature. I suppose that is what the hussy wanted that +certificate for—to get a specimen of my handwriting. I see the ‘B’ +certificate was signed by a man named Meeking. Who’s he? It was Barber +who called me in for an opinion.” +</p> + +<p> +“I must find out who he is,” replied Thorndyke. “Possibly Dr. Barber +will know. I shall go and call on him now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Dr. Halbury, shaking hands as we rose to depart, “you +ought to see Barber. He knows the history of the case, at any rate.” +</p> + +<p> +From Wimpole Street we steered a course for Howland Street, and here +we had the good fortune to arrive just as Dr. Barber’s car drew up at +the door. Thorndyke introduced himself and me, and then introduced the +subject of his visit, but said nothing, at first, about our call on +Dr. Halbury. +</p> + +<p> +“Ingle,” repeated Dr. Barber. “Oh, yes, I remember him. And you say he +is dead. Well, I’m rather surprised. I didn’t regard his condition as +serious.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was his heart dilated?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not appreciably. I found nothing organic; no valvular disease. It was +more like a tobacco heart. But it’s odd that Meeking didn’t mention +the matter to me—he was my locum, you know. I handed the case over to +him when I went on my holiday. And you say he signed the death +certificate?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and the ‘B’ certificate for cremation, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very odd,” said Dr. Barber. “Just come in and let us have a look at +the day book.” +</p> + +<p> +We followed him into the consulting room, and there, while he was +turning over the leaves of the day book, I ran my eye along the shelf +over the writing-table from which he had taken it; on which I observed +the usual collection of case books and books of certificates and +notification forms, including the book of death certificates. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Dr. Barber, “here we are; ‘Ingle, Mr., Stock-Orchard +Crescent.’ The last visit was on the 4th of September, and Meeking +seems to have given some sort of certificate. Wonder if he used a +printed form.” He took down two of the books and turned over the +counterfoils. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are,” he said presently; “ ‘Ingle, Jonathan, 4th September. +Now recovered and able to resume duties.’ That doesn’t look like +dying, does it? Still, we may as well make sure.” +</p> + +<p> +He reached down the book of death certificates and began to glance +through the most recent entries. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he said, turning over the leaves, “there doesn’t seem to be—— +Hullo! What’s this? Two blank counterfoils; and about the date, too; +between the 2nd and 13th of September. Extraordinary! Meeking is such +a careful, reliable man.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned back to the day book and read through the fortnight’s +entries. Then he looked up with an anxious frown. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t make this out,” he said. “There is no record of any patient +having died in that period.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Dr. Meeking at present?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Somewhere in the South Atlantic,” replied Barber. “He left here three +weeks ago to take up a post on a Royal Mail Boat. So he couldn’t have +signed the certificate in any case.” +</p> + +<p> +That was all that Dr. Barber had to tell us, and a few minutes later +we took our departure. +</p> + +<p> +“This case looks pretty fishy,” I remarked, as we turned down +Tottenham Court Road. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “There is evidently something radically +wrong. And what strikes me especially is the cleverness of the fraud; +the knowledge and judgment and foresight that are displayed.” +</p> + +<p> +“She took pretty considerable risks,” I observed. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but only the risks that were unavoidable. Everything that could +be foreseen has been provided for. All the formalities have been +complied with—in appearance. And you must notice, Jervis, that the +scheme did actually succeed. The cremation has taken place. Nothing +but the incalculable accident of the appearance of the real Mrs. Ingle +and her vague and apparently groundless suspicions, prevented the +success from being final. If she had not come on the scene, no +questions would ever have been asked.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” I agreed. “The discovery of the plot is a matter of sheer bad +luck. But what do you suppose has really happened?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“It is very difficult to say. The mechanism of the affair is obvious +enough, but the motives and purpose are rather incomprehensible. The +illness was apparently a sham, the symptoms being produced by +nitro-glycerine or some similar heart poison. The doctors were called +in, partly for the sake of appearances and partly to get specimens of +their handwriting. The fact that both the doctors happened to be away +from home and one of them at sea at the time when verbal questions +might have been asked—by the undertaker, for instance—suggests that +this had been ascertained in advance. The death certificate forms were +pretty certainly stolen by the woman when she was left alone in +Barber’s consulting room, and, of course, the cremation certificates +could be obtained on application to the crematorium authorities. That +is all plain sailing. The mystery is, what is it all about? Barber or +Meeking would almost certainly have given a death certificate, +although the death was unexpected, and I don’t suppose Halbury would +have refused to confirm it. They would have assumed that their +diagnosis had been at fault.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think it could have been suicide, or an inadvertent overdose +of trinitrine?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hardly. If it was suicide, it was deliberate, for the purpose of +getting the insurance money for the woman, unless there was some +further motive behind. And the cremation, with all its fuss and +formalities, is against suicide; while the careful preparation seems +to exclude inadvertent poisoning. Then, what was the motive for the +sham illness except as a preparation for an abnormal death?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is true,” said I. “But if you reject suicide, isn’t it rather +remarkable that the victim should have provided for his own +cremation?” +</p> + +<p> +“We don’t know that he did,” replied Thorndyke. “There is a suggestion +of a capable forger in this business. It is quite possible that the +will itself is a forgery.” +</p> + +<p> +“So it is!” I exclaimed. “I hadn’t thought of that.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” continued Thorndyke, “the appearances suggest that +cremation was a necessary part of the programme; otherwise these +extraordinary risks would not have been taken. The woman was sole +executrix and could have ignored the cremation clause. But if the +cremation was necessary, why was it necessary? The suggestion is that +there was something suspicious in the appearance of the body; +something that the doctors would certainly have observed or that would +have been discovered if an exhumation had taken place.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean some injury or visible signs of poisoning?” +</p> + +<p> +“I mean something discoverable by examination even after burial.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what about the undertaker? Wouldn’t he have noticed anything +palpably abnormal?” +</p> + +<p> +“An excellent suggestion, Jervis. We must see the undertaker. We have +his address: Kentish Town Road—a long way from deceased’s house, by +the way. We had better get on a bus and go there now.” +</p> + +<p> +A yellow omnibus was approaching as he spoke. We hailed it and sprang +on, continuing our discussion as we were borne northward. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Burrell, the undertaker, was a pensive-looking, profoundly civil +man who was evidently in a small way, for he combined with his +funereal functions general carpentry and cabinet making. He was +perfectly willing to give any required information, but he seemed to +have very little to give. +</p> + +<p> +“I never really saw the deceased gentleman,” he said in reply to +Thorndyke’s cautious inquiries. “When I took the measurements, the +corpse was covered with a sheet; and as Mrs. Ingle was in the room, I +made the business as short as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t put the body in the coffin, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I left the coffin at the house, but Mrs. Ingle said that she and +the deceased gentleman’s brother would lay the body in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But didn’t you see the corpse when you screwed the coffin-lid down?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t screw it down. When I got there it was screwed down already. +Mrs. Ingle said they had to close up the coffin, and I dare say it was +necessary. The weather was rather warm; and I noticed a strong smell +of formalin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said, as we walked back down the Kentish Town Road, “we +haven’t got much more forward.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wouldn’t say that,” replied Thorndyke. “We have a further instance +of the extraordinary adroitness with which this scheme was carried +out; and we have confirmation of our suspicion that there was +something unusual in the appearance of the body. It is evident that +this woman did not dare to let even the undertaker see it. But one can +hardly help admiring the combination of daring and caution, the +boldness with which these risks were taken, and the care and judgment +with which they were provided against. And again I point out that the +risks were justified by the result. The secret of that man’s death +appears to have been made secure for all time.” +</p> + +<p> +It certainly looked as if the mystery with which we were concerned +were beyond the reach of investigation. Of course, the woman could be +prosecuted for having forged the death certificates, to say nothing of +the charge of bigamy. But that was no concern of ours or Stalker’s. +Jonathan Ingle was dead, and no one could say how he died. +</p> + +<p> +On our arrival at our chambers we found a telegram that had just +arrived, announcing that Stalker would call on us in the evening; and +as this seemed to suggest that he had some fresh information we looked +forward to his visit with considerable interest. Punctually at six +o’clock he made his appearance and at once opened the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“There are some new developments in this Ingle case,” said he. “In the +first place, the woman, Huggard, has bolted. I went to the house to +make a few inquiries and found the police in possession. They had come +to arrest her on the bigamy charge, but she had got wind of their +intentions and cleared out. They made a search of the premises, but I +don’t think they found anything of interest except a number of rifle +cartridges; and I don’t know that they are of much interest either, +for she could hardly have shot him with a rifle.” +</p> + +<p> +“What kind of cartridges were they?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +Stalker put his hand in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“The inspector let me have one to show you,” said he; and he laid on +the table a military cartridge of the pattern of some twenty years +ago. Thorndyke picked it up, and taking from a drawer a pair of pliers +drew the bullet out of the case and inserted into the latter a pair of +dissecting forceps. When he withdrew the forceps, their points grasped +one or two short strings of what looked like cat-gut. +</p> + +<p> +“Cordite!” said I. “So Halbury was probably right, and this is how she +got her supply.” Then, as Stalker looked at me inquiringly, I gave him +a short account of the results of our investigations. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” he exclaimed, “the plot thickens. This juggling with the death +certificates seems to connect itself with another kind of juggling +that I came to tell you about. You know that Ingle was Secretary and +Treasurer to a company that bought and sold land for building estates. +Well, I called at their office after I left you and had a little talk +with the chairman. From him I learned that Ingle had practically +complete control of the financial affairs of the company, that he +received and paid all moneys and kept the books. Of late, however, +some of the directors have had a suspicion that all was not well with +the finances, and at last it was decided to have the affairs of the +company thoroughly overhauled by a firm of chartered accountants. This +decision was communicated to Ingle, and a couple of days later a +letter arrived from his wife saying that he had had a severe heart +attack and asking that the audit of the books might be postponed until +he recovered and was able to attend at the office.” +</p> + +<p> +“And was it postponed?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Stalker. “The accountants were asked to get to work at +once, which they did; with the result that they discovered a number of +discrepancies in the books and a sum of about three thousand pounds +unaccounted for. It isn’t quite obvious how the frauds were carried +out, but it is suspected that some of the returned cheques are fakes +with forged endorsements.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did the company communicate with Ingle on the subject?” asked +Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“No. They had a further letter from Mrs. Ingle—that is, +Huggard—saying that Ingle’s condition was very serious; so they +decided to wait until he had recovered. Then, of course, came the +announcement of his death, on which the matter was postponed pending +the probate of the will. I suppose a claim will be made on the estate, +but as the executrix has absconded, the affair has become rather +complicated.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were saying,” said Thorndyke, “that the fraudulent death +certificates seem to be connected with these frauds on the company. +What kind of connexion do you assume?” +</p> + +<p> +“I assume—or, at least, suggest,” replied Stalker, “that this was a +case of suicide. The man, Ingle, saw that his frauds were discovered, +or were going to be, and that he was in for a long term of penal +servitude, so he just made away with himself. And I think that if the +murder charge could be dropped, Mrs. Huggard might be induced to come +forward and give evidence as to the suicide.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“The murder charge couldn’t be dropped,” said he. “If it was suicide, +Huggard was certainly an accessory; and in law, an accessory to +suicide is an accessory to murder. But, in fact, no official charge of +murder has been made, and at present there are no means of sustaining +such a charge. The identity of the ashes might be assumed to be that +stated in the cremation order, but the difficulty is the cause of +death. Ingle was admittedly ill. He was attended for heart disease by +three doctors. There is no evidence that he did not die from that +illness.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the illness was due to cordite poisoning,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“That is what we believe. But no one could swear to it. And we +certainly could not swear that he died from cordite poisoning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Stalker, “apparently there is no means of finding out +whether his death was due to natural causes, suicide, or murder?” +</p> + +<p> +“There is only one chance,” replied Thorndyke. “It is just barely +possible that the cause of death might be ascertainable by an +examination of the ashes.” +</p> + +<p> +“That doesn’t seem very hopeful,” said I. “Cordite poisoning would +certainly leave no trace.” +</p> + +<p> +“We mustn’t assume that he died from cordite poisoning,” said +Thorndyke. “Probably he did not. That may have masked the action of a +less obvious poison, or death might have been produced by some new +agent.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” I objected, “how many poisons are there that could be detected +in the ashes? No organic poison would leave any traces, nor would +metallic poisons such as mercury, antimony, or arsenic.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Thorndyke agreed. “But there are other metallic poisons which +could be easily recovered from the ashes; lead, tin, gold, and silver, +for instance. But it is useless to discuss speculative probabilities. +The only chance that we have of obtaining any new facts is by an +examination of the ashes. It seems infinitely improbable that we shall +learn anything from it, but there is the bare possibility and we ought +not to leave it untried.” +</p> + +<p> +Neither Stalker nor I made any further remark, but I could see that +the same thought was in both our minds. It was not often that +Thorndyke was “gravelled”; but apparently the resourceful Mrs. Huggard +had set him a problem that was beyond even his powers. When an +investigator of crime is reduced to the necessity of examining a +potful of ashes in the wild hope of ascertaining from them how the +deceased met his death, one may assume that he is at the very end of +his tether. It is a forlorn hope indeed. +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, Thorndyke seemed to view the matter quite cheerfully, +his only anxiety being lest the Home Secretary should refuse to make +the order authorizing the examination. And this anxiety was dispelled +a day or two later by the arrival of a letter giving the necessary +authority, and informing him that a Dr. Hemming—known to us both as +an expert pathologist—had been deputed to be present at the +examination and to confer with him as to the necessity for a chemical +analysis. +</p> + +<p> +On the appointed day Dr. Hemming called at our chambers and we set +forth together for Liverpool Street; and as we drove thither it became +evident to me that his view of our mission was very similar to my own. +For, though he talked freely enough, and on professional topics, he +maintained a most discreet silence on the subject of the forthcoming +inspection; indeed, the first reference to the subject was made by +Thorndyke himself just as the train was approaching Corfield, where +the crematorium was situated. +</p> + +<p> +“I presume,” said he, “you have made all necessary arrangements, +Hemming?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply. “The superintendent will meet us and will +conduct us to the catacombs, and there, in our presence, will take the +casket from its niche in the columbarium, and have it conveyed to the +office, where the examination will be made. I thought it best to use +these formalities, though, as the casket is sealed and bears the name +of the deceased, there is not much point in them.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Thorndyke, “but I think you were right. It would be easy to +challenge the identity of a mass of ashes if all precautions were not +taken, seeing that the ashes themselves are unidentifiable.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was what I felt,” said Hemming; and then, as the train slowed +down, he added: “This is our station, and that gentleman on the +platform, I suspect, is the superintendent.” +</p> + +<p> +The surmise turned out to be correct; but the cemetery official was +not the only one present bearing that title; for as we were mutually +introducing ourselves, a familiar tall figure approached up the +platform from the rear of the train—our old friend Superintendent +Miller of the Criminal Investigation Department. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t wish to intrude,” said he, as he joined the group and was +presented by Thorndyke to the strangers, “but we were notified by the +Home Office that an investigation was to be made, so I thought I would +be on the spot to pick up any crumbs of information that you may drop. +Of course, I am not asking to be present at the examination.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may as well be present as an additional witness to the removal of +the urn,” said Thorndyke; and Miller accordingly joined the party, +which now made its way from the station to the cemetery. +</p> + +<p> +The catacombs were in a long, low arcaded building at the end of the +pleasantly-wooded grounds, and on our way thither we passed the +crematorium, a smallish, church-like edifice with a perforated +chimney-shaft partly concealed by the low spire. Entering the +catacombs, we were conducted to the “columbarium,” the walls of which +were occupied by a multitude of niches or pigeon-holes, each niche +accommodating a terra-cotta urn or casket. The superintendent +proceeded to near the end of the gallery, where he halted, and opening +the register, which he had brought with him, read out a number and the +name “Jonathan Ingle,” and then led us to a niche bearing that number +and name, in which reposed a square casket, on which was inscribed the +name and date of death. When we had verified these particulars, the +casket was tenderly lifted from its place by two attendants, who +carried it to a well-lighted room at the end of the building, where a +large table by a window had been covered with white paper. Having +placed the casket on the table, the attendants retired, and the +superintendent then broke the seals and removed the cover. +</p> + +<p> +For a while we all stood looking in at the contents of the casket +without speaking; and I found myself contrasting them with what would +have been revealed by the lifting of a coffin-lid. Truly corruption +had put on incorruption. The mass of snow-white, coral-like fragments, +delicate, fragile, and lace-like in texture, so far from being +repulsive in aspect, were almost attractive. I ran my eye, with an +anatomist’s curiosity, over these dazzling remnants of what had lately +been a man, half-unconsciously seeking to identify and give a name to +particular fragments, and a little surprised at the difficulty of +determining that this or that irregularly-shaped white object was a +part of any one of the bones with which I had thought myself so +familiar. +</p> + +<p> +Presently Hemming looked up at Thorndyke and asked: “Do you observe +anything abnormal in the appearance of these ashes? I don’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” replied Thorndyke, “we had better turn them out on to the +table, so that we can see the whole of them.” +</p> + +<p> +This was done very gently, and then Thorndyke proceeded to spread out +the heap, touching the fragments with the utmost delicacy—for they +were extremely fragile and brittle—until the whole collection was +visible. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Hemming, when we had once more looked them over +critically, “what do you say? I can see no trace of any foreign +substance. Can you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Thorndyke. “And there are some other things that I can’t +see. For instance, the medical referee reported that the proposer had +a good set of sound teeth. Where are they? I have not seen a single +fragment of a tooth. Yet teeth are far more resistant to fire than +bones, especially the enamel caps.” +</p> + +<p> +Hemming ran a searching glance over the mass of fragments and looked +up with a perplexed frown. +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly can’t see any sign of teeth,” he admitted; “and it <i>is</i> +rather curious, as you say. Does the fact suggest any particular +significance to you?” +</p> + +<p> +By way of reply, Thorndyke delicately picked up a flat fragment and +silently held it out towards us. I looked at it and said nothing; for +a very strange suspicion was beginning to creep into my mind. +</p> + +<p> +“A piece of a rib,” said Hemming. “Very odd that it should have broken +across so cleanly. It might have been cut with a saw.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke laid it down and picked up another, larger fragment, which I +had already noticed. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is another example,” said he, handing it to our colleague. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Hemming. “It is really rather extraordinary. It looks +exactly as if it had been sawn across.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does,” agreed Thorndyke. “What bone should you say it is?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I was just asking myself,” replied Hemming, looking at +the fragment with a sort of half-vexed smile. “It seems ridiculous +that a competent anatomist should be in any doubt with as large a +portion as this, but really I can’t confidently give it a name. The +shape seems to me to suggest a tibia, but of course it is much too +small. Is it the upper end of the ulna?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say no,” answered Thorndyke. Then he picked out another of +the larger fragments, and handing it to Hemming, asked him to name it. +</p> + +<p> +Our friend began to look somewhat worried. +</p> + +<p> +“It is an extraordinary thing, you know,” said he, “but I can’t tell +you what bone it is part of. It is clearly the shaft of a long bone, +but I’m hanged if I can say which. It is too big for a metatarsal and +too small for any of the main limb bones. It reminds one of a +diminutive thigh bone.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does,” agreed Thorndyke; “very strongly.” While Hemming had been +speaking he had picked out four more large fragments, and these he now +laid in a row with the one that had seemed to resemble a tibia in +shape. Placed thus together, the five fragments bore an obvious +resemblance. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said he, “look at these. There are five of them. They are parts +of limb bones, and the bones of which they are parts were evidently +exactly alike, excepting that three were apparently from the left side +and two from the right. Now, you know, Hemming, a man has only four +limbs, and of those only two contain similar bones. Then two of them +show distinct traces of what looks like a saw-cut.” +</p> + +<p> +Hemming gazed at the row of fragments with a frown of deep cogitation. +</p> + +<p> +“It is very mysterious,” he said. “And looking at them in a row they +strike me as curiously like tibiæ—in shape; not in size.” +</p> + +<p> +“The size,” said Thorndyke, “is about that of a sheep’s tibia.” +</p> + +<p> +“A sheep’s!” exclaimed Hemming, staring in amazement, first at the +calcined bones and then at my colleague. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; the upper half, sawn across in the middle of the shank.” +</p> + +<p> +Hemming was thunderstruck. +</p> + +<p> +“It is an astounding affair!” he exclaimed. “You mean to suggest——” +</p> + +<p> +“I suggest,” said Thorndyke, “that there is not a sign of a human bone +in the whole collection. But there are very evident traces of at least +five legs of mutton.” +</p> + +<p> +For a few moments there was a profound silence, broken only by a +murmur of astonishment from the cemetery official and a low chuckle +from Superintendent Miller, who had been listening with absorbed +interest. At length Hemming spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, apparently, there was no corpse in the coffin at all?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” answered Thorndyke. “The weight was made up, and the ashes +furnished, by joints of butcher’s meat. I dare say, if we go over the +ashes carefully, we shall be able to judge what they were. But it is +hardly necessary. The presence of five legs of mutton and the absence +of a single recognizable fragment of a human skeleton, together with +the forged certificates, gives us a pretty conclusive case. The rest, +I think we can leave to Superintendent Miller.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“I take it, Thorndyke,” said I, as the train moved out of the station, +“that you came here expecting to find what you did find?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied. “It seemed to me the only possibility, having +regard to all the known facts.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did it first occur to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It occurred to me as a possibility as soon as we discovered that the +cremation certificates had been forged; but it was the undertaker’s +statement that seemed to clench the matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he distinctly stated that he measured the body.” +</p> + +<p> +“True. But there was nothing to show that it was a dead body. What was +perfectly clear was that there was something that must on no account +be seen; and when Stalker told us of the embezzlement we had a body of +evidence that could point to only one conclusion. Just consider that +evidence. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we had a death, preceded by an obviously sham illness and +followed by cremation with forged certificates. Now, what was it that +had happened? There were four possible hypotheses. Normal death, +suicide, murder, and fictitious death. Which of these hypotheses +fitted the facts? +</p> + +<p> +“Normal death was apparently excluded by the forged certificates. +</p> + +<p> +“The theory of suicide did not account for the facts. It did not agree +with the careful, elaborate preparation. And why the forged +certificates? If Ingle had really died, Meeking would have certified +the death. And why the cremation? There was no purpose in taking those +enormous risks. +</p> + +<p> +“The theory of murder was unthinkable. These certificates were almost +certainly forged by Ingle himself, who we know was a practised forger. +But the idea of the victim arranging for his own cremation is an +absurdity. +</p> + +<p> +“There remained only the theory of fictitious death; and that theory +fitted all the facts perfectly. First, as to the motive. Ingle had +committed a felony. He had to disappear. But what kind of +disappearance could be so effectual as death and cremation? Both the +prosecutors and the police would forthwith write him off and forget +him. Then there was the bigamy—a criminal offence in itself. But +death would not only wipe that off; after ‘death’ he could marry +Huggard regularly under another name, and he would have shaken off his +deserted wife for ever. And he stood to gain fifteen hundred pounds +from the Insurance Company. Then see how this theory explained the +other facts. A fictitious death made necessary a fictitious illness. +It necessitated the forged certificates, since there was no corpse. It +made cremation highly desirable; for suspicion might easily have +arisen, and then the exhumation of a coffin containing a dummy would +have exploded the fraud. But successful cremation would cover up the +fraud for ever. It explained the concealment of the corpse from the +undertaker, and it even explained the smell of formalin which he +noticed.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did it?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Consider, Jervis,” he replied. “The dummy in this coffin had to be a +dummy of flesh and bone which would yield the correct kind of ash. +Joints of butcher’s meat would fulfil the conditions. But the quantity +required would be from a hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds. Now +Ingle could not go to the butcher and order a whole sheep to be sent +the day before the funeral. The joints would have to be bought +gradually and stored. But the storage of meat in warm weather calls +for some kind of preservative; and formalin is highly effective, as it +leaves no trace after burning. +</p> + +<p> +“So you see that the theory of fictitious death agreed with all the +known circumstances, whereas the alternative theories presented +inexplicable discrepancies and contradictions. Logically, it was the +only possible theory, and as you have seen, experiment proved it to be +the true one.” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke concluded, Dr. Hemming took his pipe from his mouth and +laughed softly. +</p> + +<p> +“When I came down to-day,” said he, “I had all the facts which you had +communicated to the Home Office, and I was absolutely convinced that +we were coming to examine a mare’s nest. And yet, now I have heard +your exposition, the whole thing looks perfectly obvious.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is usually the case with Thorndyke’s conclusions,” said I. “They +are perfectly obvious—when you have heard the explanation.” +</p> + +<p> +Within a week of our expedition, Ingle was in the hands of the police. +The apparent success of the cremation adventure had misled him to a +sense of such complete security that he had neglected to cover his +tracks, and he had accordingly fallen an easy prey to our friend +Superintendent Miller. The police were highly gratified, and so were +the directors of the Griffin Life Assurance Company. +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch03"> +III.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE STALKING HORSE</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">As</span> Thorndyke and I descended the stairs of the footbridge at +Densford Junction we became aware that something unusual had happened. +The platform was nearly deserted save at one point, where a small but +dense crowd had collected around the open door of a first-class +compartment of the down train; heads were thrust out of the windows of +the other coaches, and at intervals doors opened and inquisitive +passengers ran along to join the crowd, from which an excited porter +detached himself just as we reached the platform. +</p> + +<p> +“You’d better go for Dr. Pooke first,” the station-master called after +him. +</p> + +<p> +On this, Thorndyke stepped forward. +</p> + +<p> +“My friend and I,” said he, “are medical men. Can we be of any service +until the local doctor arrives?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m very much afraid not, sir,” was the reply, “but you’ll see.” He +cleared a way for us and we approached the open door. +</p> + +<p> +At the first glance there appeared to be nothing to account for the +awe-stricken expression with which the bystanders peered into the +carriage and gazed at its solitary occupant. For the motionless figure +that sat huddled in the corner seat, chin on breast, might have been a +sleeping man. But it was not. The waxen pallor of the face and the +strange, image-like immobility forbade the hope of any awakening. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks almost as if he had passed away in his sleep,” said the +station-master when we had concluded our brief examination and +ascertained certainly that the man was dead. “Do you think it was a +heart attack, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke shook his head and touched with his finger a depressed spot +on the dead man’s waistcoat. When he withdrew his finger it was +smeared with blood. +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” the official gasped, in a horrified whisper. “The man has +been murdered!” He stared incredulously at the corpse for a few +moments and then turned and sprang out of the compartment, shutting +the door behind him, and we heard him giving orders for the coach to +be separated and shunted into the siding. +</p> + +<p> +“This is a gruesome affair, Jervis,” my colleague said as he sat down +on the seat opposite the dead man and cast a searching glance round +the compartment. “I wonder who this poor fellow was and what was the +object of the murder? It looks almost too determined for a common +robbery; and, in fact, the body does not appear to have been robbed.” +Here he stooped suddenly to pick up one or two minute fragments of +glass which seemed to have been trodden into the carpet, and which he +examined closely in the palm of his hand. I leaned over and looked at +the fragments, and we agreed that they were portions of the bulb of an +electric torch or flash-lamp. +</p> + +<p> +“The significance of these—if they have any,” said Thorndyke, “we can +consider later. But if they are recent, it would appear that the metal +part of the bulb has been picked up and taken away. That might be an +important fact. But, on the other hand, the fragments may have been +here some time and have no connexion with the tragedy; though you +notice that they were lying opposite the body and opposite the seat +which the murderer must have occupied when the crime was committed.” +</p> + +<p> +As he was speaking, the uncoupled coach began slowly to move towards +the siding, and we both stooped to make a further search for the +remainder of the lamp-bulb. And then, almost at the same moment, we +perceived two objects lying under the opposite seat—the seat occupied +by the dead man. One was a small pocket-handkerchief, the other a +sheet of notepaper. +</p> + +<p> +“This,” said I, as I picked up the former, “accounts for the strong +smell of scent in the compartment.” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” Thorndyke agreed, “though you will notice that the odour +does not come principally from the handkerchief, but from the back +cushion of the corner seat. But here is something more distinctive—a +most incriminating piece of evidence, unless it can be answered by an +undeniable alibi.” He held out to me a sheet of letter paper, both +pages of which were covered with writing in bright blue ink, done with +a Hectograph or some similar duplicator. It was evidently a circular +letter, for it bore the printed heading, “Women’s Emancipation League, +16 Barnabas Square, S.W.,” and the contents appeared to refer to a +“militant demonstration” planned for the near future. +</p> + +<p> +“It is dated the day before yesterday,” commented Thorndyke, “so that +it might have been lying here for twenty-four hours, though that is +obviously improbable; and as this is neither the first sheet nor the +last, there are—or have been—at least two more sheets. The police +will have something to start on, at any rate.” +</p> + +<p> +He laid the letter on the seat and explored both of the hat-racks, +taking down the dead man’s hat, gloves, and umbrella, and noting in +the hat the initials “F.B.” He had just replaced them when voices +became audible outside, and the station-master climbed up on the +foot-board and opened the door to admit two men, one of whom I assumed +to be a doctor, the other being a police inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“The station-master tells me that this is a case of homicide,” said +the former, addressing us jointly. +</p> + +<p> +“That is what the appearances suggest,” replied Thorndyke. “There is a +bullet wound, inflicted apparently at quite short range—the waistcoat +is perceptibly singed—and we have found no weapon in the +compartment.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor stepped past us and proceeded to make a rapid examination +of the body. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “I agree with you. The position of the wound and the +posture of the body both suggest that death was practically +instantaneous. If it had been suicide, the pistol would have been in +the hand or on the floor. There is no clue to the identity of the +murderer, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“We found these on the floor under the dead man’s seat,” replied +Thorndyke, indicating the letter and the handkerchief; “and there is +some glass trodden into the carpet—apparently the remains of an +electric flash-lamp.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector pounced on the handkerchief and the letter, and having +scrutinized the former vainly in search of name or initials, turned to +the letter. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, this is a suffragist’s letter!” he exclaimed. “But it can’t have +anything to do with this affair. They are mischievous beggars, but +they don’t do this sort of thing.” Nevertheless, he carefully bestowed +both articles in a massive wallet, and approaching the corpse, +remarked: “We may as well see who he is while we are waiting for the +stretcher.” +</p> + +<p> +With a matter-of-fact air, which seemed somewhat to shock the +station-master, he unbuttoned the coat of the passive figure in the +corner and thrust his hand into the breast pocket, drawing out a +letter-case which he opened, and from which he extracted a visiting +card. As he glanced at it, his face suddenly took on an expression of +amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“God!” he exclaimed in a startled tone. “Who do you think he is, +doctor? He is Mr. Francis Burnham!” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor looked at him with an interrogative frown. +“Burnham—Burnham,” he repeated. “Let me see, now——” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know? The anti-suffrage man. Surely——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes,” interrupted the doctor. “Of course I remember him. The +arch-enemy of the suffrage movement and—yes, of course.” The doctor’s +brisk speech changed abruptly into a hesitating mumble. Like the +inspector, he had suddenly “seen a great light”; and again, like the +officer, his perception had begotten a sudden reticence. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke glanced at his watch. “Our train is a minute overdue,” said +he. “We ought to get back to the platform.” Taking a card from his +case, he handed it to the inspector, who looked at it and slightly +raised his eyebrows. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think my evidence will be of much value,” said he; “but, of +course, I am at your service if you want it.” With this and a bow to +the doctor and the station-master, he climbed down to the ground; and +when I had given the inspector my card, I followed, and we made our +way to the platform. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +The case was not long in developing. That very evening, as Thorndyke +and I were smoking our after-dinner pipes by the fire, a hurried step +was heard on the stair and was followed by a peremptory knock on our +door. The visitor was a man of about thirty, with a clean-shaved face, +an intense and rather neurotic expression, and a restless, excited +manner. He introduced himself by the name of Cadmus Bawley, and +thereby, in effect, indicated the purpose of his visit. +</p> + +<p> +“You know me by name, I expect,” he said, speaking rapidly and with a +sharp, emphatic manner, “and probably you can guess what I have come +about. You have seen the evening paper, of course?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not,” replied Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Mr. Bawley, “you know about the murder of the man +Burnham, because I see that you were present at the discovery; and you +know that part of a circular letter from our League was found in the +compartment. Perhaps you will not be surprised to learn that Miss +Isabel Dalby has been arrested and charged with the murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. It’s an infamous affair! A national disgrace!” exclaimed Bawley, +banging the table with his fist. “A manifest plot of the enemies of +social reform to get rid of a high-minded, noble-hearted lady whose +championship of this great Cause they are unable to combat by fair +means in the open. And it is a wild absurdity, too. As to the fellow, +Burnham, I can’t pretend to feel any regret——” +</p> + +<p> +“May I suggest”—Thorndyke interrupted somewhat stiffly—“that the +expression of personal sentiments is neither helpful nor discreet? My +methods of defence—if that is what you have come about—are based on +demonstration rather than rhetoric. Could you give us the plain +facts?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Cadmus Bawley looked unmistakably sulky, but after a short pause, +he began his recital in a somewhat lower key. +</p> + +<p> +“The bald facts,” he said, “are these: This afternoon, at half-past +two, Miss Dalby took the train from King’s Cross to Holmwood. This is +the train that stops at Densford Junction and is the one in which +Burnham travelled. She took a first-class ticket and occupied a +compartment for ladies only, of which she was the only occupant. She +got out at Holmwood and went straight to the house of our +Vice-President, Miss Carleigh—who has been confined to her room for +some days—and stayed there about an hour. She came back by the +four-fifteen train, and I met her at the station—King’s Cross—at a +quarter to five. We had tea at a restaurant opposite the station, and +over our tea we discussed the plans for the next demonstration, and +arranged the rendezvous and the most convenient routes for retreat and +dispersal when the police should arrive. This involved the making of +sketch plans, and these Miss Dalby drew on a sheet of paper that she +took from her pocket, and which happened to be part of the circular +letter referring to the raid. After tea we walked together down Gray’s +Inn Road and parted at Theobald’s Road, I going on to the +head-quarters and she to her rooms in Queen Square. On her arrival +home, she found two detectives waiting outside her house, and +then—and then, in short, she was arrested, like a common criminal, +and taken to the police station, where she was searched and the +remainder of the circular letter found in her pocket. Then she was +formally charged with the murder of the man Burnham, and she was +graciously permitted to send a telegram to head-quarters. It arrived +just after I got there, and, of course, I at once went to the police +station. The police refused to accept bail, but they allowed me to see +her to make arrangements for the defence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does Miss Dalby offer any suggestion,” asked Thorndyke, “as to how a +sheet of her letter came to be in the compartment with the murdered +man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes!” replied Mr. Bawley. “I had forgotten that. It wasn’t her +letter at all. She destroyed her copy of the letter as soon as she had +read it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” inquired Thorndyke, “how came the letter to be in her pocket?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” replied Bawley, “that is the mystery. She thinks someone must +have slipped it into her pocket to throw suspicion on her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she seem surprised to find it in her pocket when you were having +tea together?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. She had forgotten having destroyed her copy. She only remembered +it when I told her that the sheet had been found in Burnham’s +carriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can she produce the fragments of the destroyed letter?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, she can’t. Unfortunately she burned it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do these circular letters bear any distinguishing mark? Are they +addressed to members by name?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only on the envelopes. The letters are all alike. They are run off a +duplicator. Of course, if you don’t believe the story——” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not judging the case,” interrupted Thorndyke; “I am simply +collecting the facts. What do you want me to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you feel that you could undertake the defence, I should like you +to do so. We shall employ the solicitors to the League, Bird & +Marshall, but I know they will be willing and glad to act with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “I will investigate the case and consult +with your solicitors. By the way, do the police know about the sheet +of the letter on which the plans were drawn?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I thought it best to say nothing about that, and I have told Miss +Dalby not to mention it.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is just as well,” said Thorndyke. “Have you the sheet with the +plan on it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t it about me,” was the reply. “It is in my desk at my +chambers.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better let me have it to look at,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“You can have it if you want it, of course,” said Bawley, “but it +won’t help you. The letters are all alike, as I have told you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to see it, nevertheless,” said Thorndyke; “and perhaps +you could give me some account of Mr. Burnham. What do you know about +him?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bawley shut his lips tightly, and his face took on an expression +of vindictiveness verging on malignity. +</p> + +<p> +“All I know about Burnham,” he said, “is that he was a fool and a +ruffian. He was not only an enemy of the great reform that our League +stands for; he was a treacherous enemy—violent, crafty, and +indefatigably active. I can only regard his death as a blessing to +mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I ask,” said Thorndyke, “if any members of your League have ever +publicly threatened to take personal measures against him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” snapped Bawley. “Several of us—including myself—have +threatened to give him the hiding that he deserved. But a hiding is a +different thing from murder, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed somewhat dryly; then he asked: “Do you know +anything about Mr. Burnham’s occupation and habits?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was a sort of manager of the London and Suburban Bank. His job was +to supervise the suburban branches, and his habit was to visit them in +rotation. He was probably going to the branch at Holmwood when he was +killed. That is all I can tell you about him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Thorndyke; and as our visitor rose to depart he +continued: “Then I will look into the case and arrange with your +solicitors to have Miss Dalby properly represented at the inquest; and +I shall be glad to have that sheet of the letter as soon as you can +send or leave it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Bawley, “though, as I have told you, it won’t be of +any use to you. It is only a duplicated circular.” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” Thorndyke assented. “But the other sheets will be produced +in Court, so I may as well have an opportunity of examining it +beforehand.” +</p> + +<p> +For some minutes after our client had gone Thorndyke remained silent +and reflective, copying his rough notes into his pocket-book and +apparently amplifying and arranging them. Presently he looked up at me +with an unspoken question in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a queer case,” said I. “The circumstantial evidence seems to be +strongly against Miss Dalby, but it is manifestly improbable that she +murdered the man.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems so,” he agreed. “But the case will be decided on the +evidence; and the evidence will be considered by a judge, not by a +Home Secretary. You notice the importance of Burnham’s destination?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He was evidently dead when the train arrived at Holmwood. But it +isn’t clear how long he had been dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“The evidence,” said Thorndyke, “points strongly to the tunnel between +Cawden and Holmwood as the place where the murder was committed. You +will remember that the up-express passed our train in the tunnel. If +the adjoining compartments were empty, the sound of a pistol shot +would be completely drowned by the noise of the express thundering +past. Then you will remember the fragments of the electric bulb that +we picked up, and that there was no light on in the carriage. That is +rather significant. It not only suggests that the crime was committed +in the dark, but there is a distinct suggestion of +preparation—arrangement and premeditation. It suggests that the +murderer knew what the circumstances would be and provided for them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and that is rather a point against our client. But I don’t quite +see what you expect to get out of that sheet of the letter. It is the +presence of the letter, rather than its matter, that constitutes the +evidence against Miss Dalby.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t expect to learn anything from it,” replied Thorndyke; “but +the letter will be the prosecution’s trump card, and it is always well +to know in advance exactly what cards your opponent holds. It is a +mere matter of routine to examine everything, relevant or irrelevant.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +The inquest was to be held at Densford on the third day after the +discovery of the body. But in the interval certain new facts had come +to light. One was that the deceased was conveying to the Holmwood +branch of the bank a sum of three thousand pounds, of which one +thousand was in gold and the remainder in Bank of England notes, the +whole being contained in a leather handbag. This bag had been found, +empty, in a ditch by the side of the road which led from the station +to the house of Miss Carleigh, the Vice-President of the Women’s +Emancipation League. It was further stated that the ticket-collector +at Holmwood had noticed that Miss Dalby—whom he knew by sight—was +carrying a bag of the kind described when she passed the barrier, and +that when she returned, about an hour later, she had no bag with her. +On the other hand, Miss Carleigh had stated that the bag which Miss +Dalby brought to her house was her (Miss Carleigh’s) property, and she +had produced it for the inspection of the police. So that already +there was some conflict of evidence, with a balance distinctly against +Miss Dalby. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no denying,” said Thorndyke, as we discussed the case at the +breakfast table on the morning of the inquest, “that the +circumstantial evidence is formidably complete and consistent, while +the rebutting evidence is of the feeblest. Miss Dalby’s statement that +the letter had been put into her pocket by some unknown person will +hardly be taken seriously, and even Miss Carleigh’s statement with +reference to the bag will not carry much weight unless she can furnish +corroboration.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nevertheless,” said I, “the general probabilities are entirely in +favour of the accused. It is grossly improbable that a lady like Miss +Dalby would commit a robbery with murder of this cold-blooded, +deliberate type.” +</p> + +<p> +“That may be,” Thorndyke retorted, “but a jury has to find in +accordance with the evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” said I, “did Bawley ever send you that sheet of the +letter that you asked for?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, confound him! But I have sent Polton round to get it from him, so +that I can look it over carefully in the train. Which reminds me that +I can’t get down in time for the opening of the inquest. You had +better travel with the solicitors and see the shorthand writers +started. I shall have to come down by a later train.” +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later, just as I was about to start, a familiar step was +heard on the stair, and then our laboratory assistant, Polton, let +himself in with his key. +</p> + +<p> +“Just caught him, sir, as he was starting for the station,” he said, +with a satisfied, crinkly smile, laying an envelope on the table, and +added, “Lord! how he did swear!” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke chuckled, and having thanked his assistant, opened the +envelope and handed it to me. It contained a single sheet of +letter-paper, exactly similar to the one that we had found in the +railway carriage, excepting that the writing filled one side and a +quarter only, and, since it concluded with the signature “Letitia +Humboe, President,” it was evidently the last sheet. There was no +water-mark nor anything, so far as I could see, to distinguish it from +the dozens of other impressions that had been run off the duplicator +with it, excepting the roughly-pencilled plan on the blank side of the +sheet. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said as I put on my hat and walked towards the door, “I +suspect that Bawley was right. You won’t get much help from this to +support Miss Dalby’s rather improbable statement.” And Thorndyke +agreed that appearances were not very promising. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +The scene in the coffee-room of “The Plough” Inn at Densford was one +with which I was familiar enough. The quiet, business-like coroner, +the half-embarrassed jurors, the local police and witnesses and the +spectators, penned up at one end of the room, were all well-known +characters. The unusual feature was the handsome, +distinguished-looking young lady who sat on a plain Windsor chair +between two inscrutable policemen, watched intently by Mr. Cadmus +Bawley. Miss Dalby was pale and obviously agitated, but quiet, +resolute, and somewhat defiant in manner. She greeted me with a +pleasant smile when I introduced myself, and hoped that I and my +colleague would have no difficulty in disposing of “this grotesque and +horrible accusation.” +</p> + +<p> +I need not describe the proceedings in detail. Evidence of the +identity of the deceased having been taken, Dr. Pooke deposed that +death was due to a wound of the heart produced by a spherical bullet, +apparently fired from a small, smooth-bore pistol at very short range. +The wound was in his opinion not self-inflicted. The coroner then +produced the sheet of the circular letter found in the carriage, and I +was called to testify to the finding of it. The next witness was +Superintendent Miller of the Criminal Investigation Department, who +produced the two sheets of the letter which were taken from Miss +Dalby’s pocket when she was arrested. These he handed to the coroner +for comparison with the one found in the carriage with the body of +deceased. +</p> + +<p> +“There appears,” said the coroner, after placing the three sheets +together, “to be one or more sheets missing. The two you have handed +me are sheets one and three, and the one found in the railway carriage +is sheet two.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” the witness agreed, “sheet four is missing, but I have a +photograph of it. Here is a set of the complete letter,” and he laid +four unmounted prints on the table. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner examined them with a puzzled frown. “May I ask,” he said, +“how you obtained these photographs?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are not photographs of the copy that you have,” the witness +explained, “but of another copy of the same letter which we +intercepted in the post. That letter was addressed to a stationer’s +shop to be called for. We have considered it necessary to keep +ourselves informed of the contents of these circulars, so that we can +take the necessary precautions; and as the envelopes are marked with +the badge and are invariably addressed in blue ink, it is not +difficult to identify them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said the coroner, glaring stonily at Mr. Bawley, who had +accompanied the Superintendent’s statement with audible and +unfavourable comments. “Is that the whole of your evidence? Thank you. +Then, if there is no cross-examination, I will call the next witness. +Mr. Bernard Parsons.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Parsons was the general manager of the London and Suburban Bank, +and he deposed that deceased was, on the day when he met his death, +travelling to Holmwood to visit and inspect the new local branch of +the bank, and that he was taking thither the sum of three thousand +pounds, of which one thousand was in gold and the remainder in Bank of +England notes—mostly five-pound notes. He carried the notes and +specie in a strong leather handbag. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you say if either of these is the bag that he carried?” the +coroner asked, indicating two largish, black leather bags that his +officer had placed on the table. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Parsons promptly pointed to the larger of the two, which was +smeared externally with mud. The coroner noted the answer and then +asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Did anyone besides yourself know that deceased was making this +visit?” +</p> + +<p> +“Many persons must have known,” was the reply. “Deceased visited the +various branches in a fixed order. He came to Holmwood on the second +Tuesday in the month.” +</p> + +<p> +“And would it be known that he had this great sum of money with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“The actual amount would not be generally known, but he usually took +with him supplies of specie and notes—sometimes very large sums—and +this would be known to many of the bank staff, and probably to a good +many persons outside. The Holmwood Branch consumes a good deal of +specie, as most of the customers pay in cheques and draw out cash for +local use.” +</p> + +<p> +This was the substance of Mr. Parsons’ evidence, and when he sat down +the ticket-collector was called. That official identified Miss Dalby +as one of the passengers by the train in which the body of deceased +was found. She was carrying a bag when she passed the barrier. He +could not identify either of the bags, but both were similar to the +one that she was carrying. She returned about an hour later and caught +an up-train, and he noticed that she was then not carrying a bag. He +could not say whether any of the other passengers was carrying a bag. +There were very few first-class passengers by that train, but a large +number of third-class—mostly fruit-pickers—and they made a dense +crowd at the barrier, so that he did not notice individual passengers +particularly. He noticed Miss Dalby because he knew her by sight, as +she often came to Holmwood with other suffragist ladies. He did not +see which carriage Miss Dalby came from, and he did not see any +first-class compartment with an open door. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner noted down this evidence with thoughtful deliberation, and +I was considering whether there were any questions that it would be +advisable to ask the witness when I felt a light touch on my shoulder, +and looking up perceived a constable holding out a telegram. Observing +that it was addressed to “Dr. Jervis, Plough Inn, Densford,” I nodded +to the constable, and taking the envelope from him, opened it and +unfolded the paper. The telegram was from Thorndyke, in the simple +code that he had devised for our private use. I was able to decode it +without referring to the key—which each of us always carried in his +pocket—and it then read: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“I am starting for Folkestone <i>in re</i> Burnham deceased. Follow +immediately and bring Miller if you can for possible arrest. Meet me +on pier near Ostend boat. Thorndyke.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +Accustomed as I was to my colleague’s inveterate habit of acting in +the least expected manner, I must confess that I gazed at the decoded +message in absolute stupefaction. I had been totally unaware of the +faintest clue beyond the obvious evidence to which I had been +listening, and behold! here was Thorndyke with an entirely fresh case, +apparently cut-and-dried, and the unsuspected criminal in the hollow +of his hand. It was astounding. +</p> + +<p> +Unconsciously I raised my eyes—and met those of Superintendent +Miller, fixed on me with devouring curiosity. I held up the telegram +and beckoned, and immediately he tip-toed across and took a seat by my +side. I laid the decoded telegram before him, and when he had glanced +through it, I asked in a whisper: “Well, what do you say?” +</p> + +<p> +By way of reply, he whisked out a time-table, conned it eagerly for a +few minutes, and then held it towards me with his thumb-nail on the +words “Densford Junction.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a fast train up in seven minutes,” he whispered hoarsely. +“Get the coroner to excuse us and let your solicitors carry on for +you.” +</p> + +<p> +A brief, and rather vague, explanation secured the assent of the +coroner—since we had both given our evidence—and the less willing +agreement of my clients. In another minute the superintendent and I +were heading for the station, which we reached just as the train swept +up alongside the platform. +</p> + +<p> +“This is a queer start,” said Miller, as the train moved out of the +station; “but, Lord! there is never any calculating Dr. Thorndyke’s +moves. Did you know that he had anything up his sleeve?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; but then one never does know. He is as close as an oyster. He +never shows his hand until he can play a trump card. But it is +possible that he has struck a fresh clue since I left.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” rejoined Miller, “we shall know when we get to the other end. +And I don’t mind telling you that it will be a great relief to me if +we can drop this charge against Miss Dalby.” +</p> + +<p> +From time to time during the journey to London, and from thence to +Folkestone, the superintendent reverted to Thorndyke’s mysterious +proceedings. But it was useless to speculate. We had not a single fact +to guide us; and when, at last, the train ran into Folkestone Central +Station, we were as much in the dark as when we started. +</p> + +<p> +Assuming that Thorndyke would have made any necessary arrangements for +assistance from the local police, we chartered a cab and proceeded +direct to the end of Rendez-vous Street—a curiously appropriate +destination, by the way. Here we alighted in order that we might make +our appearance at the meeting place as inconspicuously as possible, +and, walking towards the harbour, perceived Thorndyke waiting on the +quay, ostensibly watching the loading of a barge, and putting in their +case a pair of prismatic binoculars with which he had apparently +observed our arrival. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you have come, Miller,” he said, shaking the +superintendent’s hand. “I can’t make any promises, but I have no doubt +that it is a case for you even if it doesn’t turn out all that I hope +and expect. The <i>Cornflower</i> is our ship, and we had better go on +board separately in case our friends are keeping a look-out. I have +arranged matters with the captain, and the local superintendent has +got some plain-clothes men on the pier.” +</p> + +<p> +With this we separated. Thorndyke went on in advance, and Miller and I +followed at a discreet interval. +</p> + +<p> +As I descended the gangway a minute or so after Miller, a steward +approached me, and having asked my name, requested me to follow him, +when he conducted me to the purser’s office, in which I found +Thorndyke and Miller in conversation with the purser. +</p> + +<p> +“The gentlemen you are inquiring for,” said the latter, “are in the +smoking-room playing cards with another passenger. I have put a +tarpaulin over one of the ports, in case you want to have a look at +them without being seen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you had better make a preliminary inspection, Miller,” said +Thorndyke. “You may know some of them.” +</p> + +<p> +To this suggestion the superintendent agreed, and forthwith went off +with the purser, leaving me and Thorndyke alone. I at once took the +opportunity to demand an explanation. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it that you struck some new evidence after I left you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “And none too soon, as you see. I don’t +quite know what it will amount to, but I think we have secured the +defence, at any rate; and that is really all that we are concerned +with. The positive aspects of the case are the business of the police. +But here comes Miller, looking very pleased with himself, and with the +purser.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent, however, was not only pleased; he was also not a +little puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“Well!” he exclaimed, “this is a quaint affair. We have got two of the +leading lights of the suffrage movement in there. One is Jameson, the +secretary of the Women’s Emancipation League, the other is Pinder, +their chief bobbery-monger. Then there are two men named Dorman and +Spiller, both of them swell crooks, I am certain, though we have never +been able to fix anything on them. The fifth man I don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither do I,” said Thorndyke. “My repertoire includes only four. And +now we will proceed to sort them out. Could we have a few words with +Mr. Thorpe—in here, if you don’t mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” replied the purser. “I’ll go and fetch him.” He bustled +away in the direction of the smoking-room, whence he presently +reappeared, accompanied by a tall, lean man who wore large bi-focal +spectacles of the old-fashioned, split-lens type, and was smoking a +cigar. As the new-comer approached down the alley-way, it was evident +that he was nervous and uneasy, though he maintained a certain jaunty +swagger that accorded ill with a pronounced, habitual stoop. As he +entered the cabin, however, and became aware of the portentous group +of strangers, the swagger broke down completely; suddenly his face +became ashen and haggard, and he peered through his great spectacles +from one to the others with an expression of undisguisable terror. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Thorpe?” queried Thorndyke; and the superintendent murmured: +“Alias Pinder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply, in a husky undertone. “What can I do for you?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke turned to the superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“I charge this man,” said he, “with having murdered Francis Burnham in +the train between London and Holmwood.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent was visibly astonished, but not more so than the +accused, on whom Thorndyke’s statement produced the most singular +effect. In a moment, his terror seemed to drop from him; the colour +returned to his face, the haggard expression of which gave place to +one of obvious relief. +</p> + +<p> +Miller stood up, and addressing the accused, began: +</p> + +<p> +“It is my duty to caution you—” but the other interrupted: +</p> + +<p> +“Caution your grandmother! You are talking a parcel of dam’ nonsense. +I was in Birmingham when the murder was committed. I can prove it, +easily.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent was somewhat taken aback, for the accused spoke +with a confidence that carried conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“In that case,” said Thorndyke, “you can probably explain how a letter +belonging to you came to be found in the carriage with the murdered +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Belonging to me!” exclaimed Thorpe. “What the deuce do you mean? That +letter belonged to Miss Dalby. The rest of it was found in her +pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely,” said Thorndyke. “One sheet had been placed in the railway +carriage and the remainder in Miss Dalby’s pocket to fix suspicion on +her. But it was your letter, and the inference is that you disposed of +it in that manner for the purpose that I have stated.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” persisted Thorpe, with visibly-growing uneasiness, “this was a +duplicated circular. You couldn’t tell one copy from another.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Pinder,” said Thorndyke, in an impressively quiet tone, “if I +tell you that I ascertained from that letter that you had taken a +passage on this ship in the name of Thorpe, you will probably +understand what I mean.” +</p> + +<p> +Apparently he did understand, for, once more, the colour faded from +his face and he sat down heavily on a locker, fixing on Thorndyke a +look of undisguised dismay. Thus he sat for some moments, motionless +and silent, apparently thinking hard. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he started up. “My God!” he exclaimed, “I see now what has +happened. The infernal scoundrel! First he put it on to Miss Dalby, +and now he has put it on to me. Now I understand why he looked so +startled when I ran against him.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you,” replied Pinder. “As I move about a good deal—and for +other reasons—I used to have my suffrage letters sent to a +stationer’s shop in Barlow Street——” +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” interrupted the superintendent; “Bedall’s. I used to look +them over and take photographs of them.” He grinned craftily as he +made this statement, and, rather to my surprise, the accused grinned +too. A little later I understood that grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” continued Pinder, “I used to collect these letters pretty +regularly. But this last letter was delivered while I was away at +Birmingham. Before I came back I met a man who gave me +certain—er—instructions—you know what they were,” he added, +addressing Thorndyke—“so I did not need the letter. But, of course, I +couldn’t leave it there uncollected, so when I got back to London, I +called for it. That was two days ago. To my astonishment Miss Bedall +declared that I had collected it three days previously. I assured her +that I was not in London on that day, but she was positive that I had +called. ‘I remember clearly,’ she said, ‘giving you the letter +myself.’ Well, there was no arguing. Evidently she had given the +letter to the wrong person—she is very nearsighted, I should say, +judging by the way she holds things against her nose—but how it +happened I couldn’t understand. But I think I understand now. There is +one person only in the world who knew that I had my letters addressed +there: a sort of pal of mine named Payne. He happened to be with me +one evening when I called to collect my letters. Now, Payne chanced to +be a good deal like me—at least, he is tall and thin and stoops a +bit; but he does not wear spectacles. He tried on my spectacles once +for a joke, and then he really looked extremely like me. He looked in +a mirror and remarked on the resemblance himself. Now, Payne did not +belong to the Women’s League, and I suggest that he took advantage of +this resemblance to get possession of this letter. He got a pair of +spectacles like mine and personated me at the shop.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should he want to get possession of that letter?” Miller +demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“To plant it as he has planted it,” replied Pinder, “and set the +police on a false trail.” +</p> + +<p> +“This sounds pretty thin,” said Miller. “You are accusing this man of +having murdered Mr. Burnham. What grounds have you for this +accusation?” +</p> + +<p> +“My grounds,” replied Pinder, “are, first, that he stole this letter +which has been found, obviously planted; and, second, that he had a +grudge against Burnham and knew all about his movements.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” said Miller, with suddenly increased interest. “Then who and +what is this man Payne?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” replied Pinder, “until a month ago, he was assistant cashier at +the Streatham branch of the bank. Then Burnham came down and hoofed +him out without an hour’s notice. I don’t know what for, but I can +guess.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you happen to know where Payne is at this moment?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do. He is on this ship, in the smoking-room—only he is Mr. +Shenstone now. And mighty sick he was when he found me on board.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent looked at Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think about it, doctor?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said Thorndyke, “that we had better have Mr. Shenstone in +here and ask him a few questions. Would you see if you can get him to +come here?” he added, addressing the purser, who had been listening +with ecstatic enjoyment. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll get him to come along all right,” replied the purser, evidently +scenting a new act in this enthralling drama; and away he bustled, all +agog. In less than a minute we saw him returning down the alley-way, +with a tall, thin man, who, at a distance, was certainly a good deal +like Pinder, though the resemblance diminished as he approached. He, +too, was obviously agitated, and seemed to be plying the purser with +questions. But when he came opposite the door of the cabin he stopped +dead and seemed disposed to shrink back. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that the man?” Thorndyke demanded sharply and rather loudly, +springing to his feet as he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +The effect of the question was electrical. As Thorndyke rose, the +new-comer turned, and, violently thrusting the purser aside, raced +madly down the alley-way and out on to the deck. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop that man!” roared Miller, darting out in pursuit; and at the +shout a couple of loitering deck-hands headed the fugitive off from +the gangway. Following, I saw the terrified man swerving this way and +that across the littered deck to avoid the seamen, who joined in the +pursuit; I saw him make a sudden frantic burst for a baggage-slide +springing from a bollard up to the bulwark-rail. Then his foot must +have tripped on a lashing, for he staggered for a moment, flung out +his arms with a wild shriek, and plunged headlong into the space +between the ship’s side and the quay wall. +</p> + +<p> +In an instant the whole ship was in an uproar. An officer and two +hands sprang to the rail with ropes and a boathook, while others +manned the cargo derrick and lowered a rope with a running bowline +between the ship and the quay. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s gone under,” a hoarse voice proclaimed from below; “but I can +see him jammed against the side.” +</p> + +<p> +There were a couple of minutes of sickening suspense. Then the voice +from below was heard again. +</p> + +<p> +“Heave up!” +</p> + +<p> +The derrick-engine rattled, the taut rope came up slowly, and at +length out of that horrid gulf arose a limp and dripping shape that, +as it cleared the bulwark, was swung inboard and let down gently on +the deck. Thorndyke and I stooped over him. But it was a dead man’s +face that we looked into; and a tinge of blood on the lips told the +rest of the tale. +</p> + +<p> +“Cover him up,” said the superintendent. “He’s out of our jurisdiction +now. But what’s going on there?” +</p> + +<p> +Following his look, I perceived a small, scattered crowd of men all +running furiously along the quay towards the town. Some of them I +judged to be the late inmates of the smoking-room and some +plain-clothes men. The only figure that I recognized was that of Mr. +Pinder, and he was already growing small in the distance. +</p> + +<p> +“The local police will have to deal with them,” said Miller. Then +turning to the purser, he asked: “What baggage had this man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only two cabin trunks,” was the reply. “They are both in his +state-room.” +</p> + +<p> +To the state-room we followed the purser, when Miller had possessed +himself of the dead man’s keys, and the two trunks were hoisted on to +the bunk and opened. Each trunk contained a large cash-box, and each +cash-box contained five hundred pounds in gold and a big bundle of +notes. The latter Miller examined closely, checking their numbers by a +column of entries in his pocket-book. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he reported at length; “it’s a true bill. These are the notes +that were stolen from Mr. Burnham. And now I will have a look at the +baggage of those other four sportsmen.” +</p> + +<p> +This being no affair of ours, Thorndyke and I went ashore and slowly +made our way towards the town. But presently the superintendent +overtook us in high glee, with the news that he had discovered what +appeared to be the accumulated “swag” of a gang of swell burglars for +whom he had been for some months vainly on the look-out. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“How was it done?” repeated Thorndyke in reply to Miller’s question, +as we sat at a retired table in the “Lord Warden” Hotel. “Well, it was +really very simple. I am afraid I shall disappoint you if you expect +anything ingenious and recondite. Of course, it was obvious that Miss +Dalby had not committed this atrocious murder and robbery; and it was +profoundly improbable that this extremely incriminating letter had +been dropped accidentally. That being so, it was almost certain that +the letter had been ‘planted,’ as Pinder expressed it. But that was a +mere opinion that helped us not at all. The actual solution turned +upon a simple chemical fact with which I happened to be acquainted; +which is this: that all the basic coal-tar dyes, and especially +methylene blue, dye oxycellulose without requiring a mordant, but do +not react in this way on cellulose. Now, good paper is practically +pure cellulose; and if you dip a sheet of such paper into certain +oxidizing liquids, such as a solution of potassium chlorate with a +slight excess of hydrochloric acid, the paper is converted into +oxycellulose. But if instead of immersing the paper, you write on it +with a quill or glass pen dipped in the solution, only the part which +has been touched by the pen is changed into oxycellulose. No change is +visible to the eye: but if a sheet of paper written on with this +colourless fluid is dipped in a solution of, say, methylene blue, the +invisible writing immediately becomes visible. The oxycellulose takes +up the blue dye. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, when I picked up that sheet of the letter in the railway +carriage and noted that the ink used appeared to be methylene blue, +this fact was recalled to my mind. Then, on looking at it closely, I +seemed to detect a certain slight spottiness in the writing. There +were points on some of the letters that were a little deeper in colour +than the rest; and it occurred to me that it was possible that these +circulars might be used to transmit secret messages of a less innocent +kind than those that met the unaided eye, just as these political +societies might form an excellent cover for the operations of criminal +associations. But if the circulars had been so used, it is evident +that the secret writing would not be on all the circulars. The +prepared sheets would be used only for the circulars that were to be +sent to particular persons, and in those cases the secret writing +would probably be in the nature of a personal communication, either to +a particular individual or to a small group. The possible presence of +a secret message thus became of vital evidential importance; for if it +could be shown that this letter was addressed to some person other +than Miss Dalby, that would dispose of the only evidence connecting +her with the crime. +</p> + +<p> +“It happened, most fortunately, that I was able to get possession of +the final sheet of this letter——” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it did,” growled Miller, with a sour smile. +</p> + +<p> +“It reached me,” continued Thorndyke, “only after Dr. Jervis had +started for Densford. The greater part of one side was blank, +excepting for a rough plan drawn in pencil, and this blank side I laid +down on a sheet of glass and wetted the written side with a small wad +of cotton-wool dipped in distilled water. Of course, the blue writing +began to run and dissolve out; and then, very faintly, some other +writing began to show through in reverse. I turned the paper over, and +now the new writing, though faint, was quite legible, and became more +so when I wiped the blue-stained cotton-wool over it a few times. A +solution of methylene blue would have made it still plainer, but I +used water only, as I judged that the blue writing was intended to +furnish the dye for development. Here is the final result.” +</p> + +<p> +He drew from his pocket a letter-case, from which he extracted a +folded paper which he opened and laid on the table. It was stained a +faint blue, through which the original writing could be seen, dim and +blurred, while the secret message, though very pale, was quite sharp +and clear. And this was the message: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p> +“… so although we are not actually blown on, the position is getting +risky and it’s time for us to hop. I have booked passages for the four +of us to Ostend by the <i>Cornflower</i>, which sails on Friday evening +next (20th). The names of the four illustrious passengers are, Walsh +(that’s me), Grubb (Dorman), Jenkins (Spiller), and Thorpe (that’s +you). Get those names well into your canister—better make a note of +them—and turn up in good time on Friday.” +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +“Well,” said Miller, as he handed back the letter, “we can’t know +everything—unless we are Dr. Thorndyke. But there’s one thing I do +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is that?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I know why that fellow, Pinder, grinned when I told him that I had +photographed his confounded letters.” +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch04"> +IV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE NATURALIST AT LAW</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">A hush</span> had fallen on the court as the coroner concluded his brief +introductory statement and the first witness took up his position by +the long table. The usual preliminary questions elicited that Simon +Moffet, the witness aforesaid, was fifty-eight years of age, that he +followed the calling of a shepherd and that he was engaged in +supervising the flocks that fed upon the low-lying meadows adjoining +the little town of Bantree in Buckinghamshire. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell us how you came to discover the body,” said the coroner. +</p> + +<p> +“ ’Twas on Wednesday morning, about half-past five,” Moffet began. “I +was getting the sheep through the gate into the big meadow by Reed’s +farm, when I happened to look down the dyke, and then I noticed a boot +sticking up out of the water. Seemed to me as if there was a foot in +it by the way it stuck up, so as soon as all the sheep was in, I shut +the gate and walked down the dyke to have a look at un. When I got +close I see the toe of another boot just alongside. Looks a bit queer, +I thinks, but I couldn’t see anything more, ’cause the duck-weed is +that thick as it looks as if you could walk on it. Howsever, I clears +away the weed with my stick, and then I see ’twas a dead man. Give me +a rare turn, it did. He was a-layin’ at the bottom of the ditch with +his head near the middle and his feet up close to the bank. Just then +young Harry Walker comes along the cart-track on his way to work, so I +shows him the body and sends him back to the town for to give notice +at the police station.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is that all you know about the affair?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay. Later on I see the sergeant come along with a man wheelin’ the +stretcher, and I showed him where the body was and helped to pull it +out and load it on the stretcher. And that’s all I know about it.” +</p> + +<p> +On this the witness was dismissed and his place taken by a +shrewd-looking, business-like police sergeant, who deposed as follows: +</p> + +<p> +“Last Wednesday, the 8th of May, at 6.15 a.m., I received information +from Henry Walker that a dead body was lying in the ditch by the +cart-track leading from Ponder’s Road to Reed’s farm. I proceeded +there forthwith, accompanied by Police-Constable Ketchum, and taking +with us a wheeled stretcher. On the track I was met by the last +witness, who conducted me to the place where the body was lying and +where I found it in the position that he has described; but we had to +clear away the duck-weed before we could see it distinctly. I examined +the bank carefully, but could see no trace of footprints, as the grass +grows thickly right down to the water’s edge. There were no signs of a +struggle or any disturbance on the bank. With the aid of Moffet and +Ketchum, I drew the body out and placed it on the stretcher. I could +not see any injuries or marks of violence on the body or anything +unusual about it. I conveyed it to the mortuary, and with Constable +Ketchum’s assistance removed the clothing and emptied the pockets, +putting the contents of each pocket in a separate envelope and writing +the description on each. In a letter-case from the coat pocket were +some visiting cards bearing the name and address of Mr. Cyrus Pedley, +of 21 Hawtrey Mansions, Kensington, and a letter signed Wilfred +Pedley, apparently from deceased’s brother. Acting on instructions, I +communicated with him and served a summons to attend this inquest.” +</p> + +<p> +“With regard to the ditch in which you found the body,” said the +coroner, “can you tell us how deep it is?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I measured it with Moffet’s crook and a tape measure. In the +deepest part, where the body was lying, it is four feet two inches +deep. From there it slopes up pretty sharply to the bank.” +</p> + +<p> +“So far as you can judge, if a grown man fell into the ditch by +accident, would he have any difficulty in getting out?” +</p> + +<p> +“None at all, I should say, if he were sober and in ordinary health. A +man of medium height, standing in the middle at the deepest part would +have his head and shoulders out of water; and the sides are not too +steep to climb up easily, especially with the grass and rushes on the +bank to lay hold of.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say there were no signs of disturbance on the bank. Were there +any in the ditch itself?” +</p> + +<p> +“None that I could see. But, of course, signs of disturbance soon +disappear in water. The duck-weed drifts about as the wind drives it, +and there are creatures moving about on the bottom. I noticed that +deceased had some weed grasped in one hand.” +</p> + +<p> +This concluded the sergeant’s evidence, and as he retired, the name of +Dr. Albert Parton was called. The new witness was a young man of grave +and professional aspect, who gave his evidence with an extreme regard +for clearness and accuracy. +</p> + +<p> +“I have made an examination of the body of the deceased,” he began, +after the usual preliminaries. “It is that of a healthy man of about +forty-five. I first saw it about two hours after it was found. It had +then been dead from twelve to fifteen hours. Later I made a complete +examination. I found no injuries, marks of violence or any definite +bruises, and no signs of disease.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ascertain the cause of death?” the coroner asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. The cause of death was drowning.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite sure of that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure. The lungs contained a quantity of water and duck-weed, +and there was more than a quart of water mixed with duck-weed and +water-weed in the stomach. That is a clear proof of death by drowning. +The water in the lungs was the immediate cause of death, by making +breathing impossible, and as the water and weed in the stomach must +have been swallowed, they furnish conclusive evidence that deceased +was alive when he fell into the water.” +</p> + +<p> +“The water and weed could not have got into the stomach after death?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, that is quite impossible. They must have been swallowed when the +head of the deceased was just below the surface; and the water must +have been drawn into the lungs by spasmodic efforts to breathe when +the mouth was under water.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you find any signs indicating that deceased might have been +intoxicated?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I examined the water from the stomach very carefully with that +question in view, but there was no trace of alcohol—or, indeed, of +anything else. It was simple ditch-water. As the point is important I +have preserved it, and——” here the witness produced a paper parcel +which he unfastened, revealing a large glass jar containing about a +quart of water plentifully sprinkled with duck-weed. This he presented +to the coroner, who waved it away hastily and indicated the jury; to +whom it was then offered and summarily rejected with emphatic +head-shakes. Finally it came to rest on the table by the place where I +was sitting with my colleague, Dr. Thorndyke, and our client, Mr. +Wilfred Pedley. I glanced at it with faint interest, noting how the +duck-weed plants had risen to the surface and floated, each with its +tassel of roots hanging down into the water, and how a couple of tiny, +flat shells, like miniature ammonites, had sunk and lay on the bottom +of the jar. Thorndyke also glanced at it; indeed, he did more than +glance, for he drew the jar towards him and examined its contents in +the systematic way in which it was his habit to examine everything. +Meanwhile the coroner asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Did you find anything abnormal or unusual, or anything that could +throw light on how deceased came to be in the water?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing whatever,” was the reply. “I found simply that deceased met +his death by drowning.” +</p> + +<p> +Here, as the witness seemed to have finished his evidence, Thorndyke +interposed. +</p> + +<p> +“The witness states, sir, there were no definite bruises. Does he mean +that there were any marks that might have been bruises?” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner glanced at Dr. Parton, who replied: +</p> + +<p> +“There was a faint mark on the outside of the right arm, just above +the elbow, which had somewhat the appearance of a bruise, as if the +deceased had been struck with a stick. But it was very indistinct. I +shouldn’t like to swear that it was a bruise at all.” +</p> + +<p> +This concluded the doctor’s evidence, and when he had retired, the +name of our client, Wilfred Pedley, was called. He rose, and having +taken the oath and given his name and address, deposed: +</p> + +<p> +“I have viewed the body of deceased. It is that of my brother, Cyrus +Pedley, who is forty-three years of age. The last time I saw deceased +alive was on Tuesday morning, the day before the body was found.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you notice anything unusual in his manner or state of mind?” +</p> + +<p> +The witness hesitated but at length replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He seemed anxious and depressed. He had been in low spirits for +some time past, but on this occasion he seemed more so than usual.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had you any reason to suspect that he might contemplate taking his +life?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” the witness replied, emphatically, “and I do not believe that he +would, under any circumstances, have contemplated suicide.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any special reason for that belief?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Deceased was a highly conscientious man and he was in my debt. +He had occasion to borrow two thousand pounds from me, and the debt +was secured by an insurance on his life. If he had committed suicide +that insurance would be invalidated and the debt would remain unpaid. +From my knowledge of him, I feel certain that he would not have done +such a thing.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner nodded gravely, and then asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What was deceased’s occupation?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was employed in some way by the Foreign Office, I don’t know in +what capacity. I know very little about his affairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know if he had any money worries or any troubles or +embarrassments of any kind?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have never heard of any; but deceased was a very reticent man. He +lived alone in his flat, taking his meals at his club, and no one +knew—at least, I did not—how he spent his time or what was the state +of his finances. He was not married, and I am his only near relative.” +</p> + +<p> +“And as to deceased’s habits. Was he ever addicted to taking more +stimulants than was good for him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never,” the witness replied emphatically. “He was a most temperate +and abstemious man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was he subject to fits of any kind, or fainting attacks?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have never heard that he was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you account for his being in this solitary place at this +time—apparently about eight o’clock at night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot. It is a complete mystery to me. I know of no one with whom +either of us was acquainted in this district. I had never heard of the +place until I got the summons to the inquest.” +</p> + +<p> +This was the sum of our client’s evidence, and, so far, things did not +look very favourable from our point of view—we were retained on the +insurance question, to rebut, if possible, the suggestion of suicide. +However, the coroner was a discreet man, and having regard to the +obscurity of the case—and perhaps to the interests involved—summed +up in favour of an open verdict; and the jury, taking a similar view, +found that deceased met his death by drowning, but under what +circumstances there was no evidence to show. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said, as the court rose, “that leaves it to the insurance +people to make out a case of suicide if they can. I think you are +fairly safe, Mr. Pedley. There is no positive evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” our client replied. “But it isn’t only the money I am thinking +of. It would be some consolation to me for the loss of my poor brother +if I had some idea how he met with his death, and could feel sure that +it was an unavoidable misadventure. And for my own +satisfaction—leaving the insurance out of the question—I should like +to have definite proof that it was not suicide.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked half-questioningly at Thorndyke, who nodded gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” the latter agreed, “the suggestion of suicide ought to be +disposed of if possible, both for legal and sentimental reasons. How +far away is the mortuary?” +</p> + +<p> +“A couple of minutes’ walk,” replied Mr. Pedley. “Did you wish to +inspect the body?” +</p> + +<p> +“If it is permissible,” replied Thorndyke; “and then I propose to have +a look at the place where the body was found.” +</p> + +<p> +“In that case,” our client said, “I will go down to the Station Hotel +and wait for you. We may as well travel up to town together, and you +can then tell me if you have seen any further light on the mystery.” +</p> + +<p> +As soon as he was gone, Dr. Parton advanced, tying the string of the +parcel which once more enclosed the jar of ditch-water. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard you say, sir, that you would like to inspect the body,” said +he. “If you like, I will show you the way to the mortuary. The +sergeant will let us in, won’t you, sergeant? This gentleman is a +doctor as well as a lawyer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bless you, sir,” said the sergeant, “I know who Dr. Thorndyke is, and +I shall feel it an honour to show him anything he wishes to see.” +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly we set forth together, Dr. Parton and Thorndyke leading +the way. +</p> + +<p> +“The coroner and the jury didn’t seem to appreciate my exhibit,” the +former remarked with a faint grin, tapping the parcel as he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Thorndyke agreed; “and it is hardly reasonable to expect a +layman to share our own matter-of-fact outlook. But you were quite +right to produce the specimen. That ditch-water furnishes conclusive +evidence on a vitally material question. Further, I would advise you +to preserve that jar for the present, well covered and under lock and +key.” +</p> + +<p> +Parton looked surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” he asked. “The inquest is over and the verdict pronounced.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but it was an open verdict, and an open verdict leaves the case +in the air. The inquest has thrown no light on the question as to how +Cyrus Pedley came by his death.” +</p> + +<p> +“There doesn’t seem to me much mystery about it,” said the doctor. +“Here is a man found drowned in a shallow ditch which he could easily +have got out of if he had fallen in by accident. He was not drunk. +Apparently he was not in a fit of any kind. There are no marks of +violence and no signs of a struggle, and the man is known to have been +in an extremely depressed state of mind. It looks like a clear case of +suicide, though I admit that the jury were quite right, in the absence +of direct evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “it will be my duty to contest that view if +the insurance company dispute the claim on those grounds.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t think what you will have to offer in answer to the suggestion +of suicide,” said Parton. +</p> + +<p> +“Neither can I, at present,” replied Thorndyke. “But the case doesn’t +look to me quite so simple as it does to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think it possible that an analysis of the contents of this jar +may be called for?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a possibility,” replied Thorndyke. “But I mean that the case +is obscure, and that some further inquiry into the circumstances of +this man’s death is by no means unlikely.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Parton, “I will certainly follow your advice and lock up +this precious jar. But here we are at the mortuary. Is there anything +in particular that you want to see?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see all that there is to see,” Thorndyke replied. “The +evidence has been vague enough so far. Shall we begin with that bruise +or mark that you mentioned?” +</p> + +<p> +Dr. Parton advanced to the grim, shrouded figure that lay on the +slate-topped table, like some solemn effigy on an altar tomb, and drew +back the sheet that covered it. We all approached, stepping softly, +and stood beside the table, looking down with a certain awesome +curiosity at the still, waxen figure that, but a few hours since, had +been a living man like ourselves. The body was that of a good-looking, +middle-aged man with a refined, intelligent face—slightly disfigured +by a scar on the cheek—now set in the calm, reposeful expression that +one so usually finds on the faces of the drowned; with drowsy, +half-closed eyes and slightly parted lips that revealed a considerable +gap in the upper front teeth. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke stood awhile looking down on the dead man with a curious +questioning expression. Then his eye travelled over the body, from the +placid face to the marble-like torso and the hand which, though now +relaxed, still lightly grasped a tuft of water-weed. The latter +Thorndyke gently disengaged from the limp hand, and, after a glance at +the dark green, feathery fronds, laid it down and stooped to examine +the right arm at the spot above the elbow that Parton had spoken of. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “I think I should call it a bruise, though it is very +faint. As you say, it might have been produced by a blow with a stick +or rod. I notice that there are some teeth missing. Presumably he wore +a plate?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Parton; “a smallish gold plate with four teeth on +it—at least, so his brother told me. Of course, it fell out when he +was in the water, but it hasn’t been found; in fact, it hasn’t been +looked for.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke nodded and then turned to the sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +“Could I see what you found in the pockets?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant complied readily, and my colleague watched his orderly +procedure with evident approval. The collection of envelopes was +produced from an attaché-case and conveyed to a side table, where the +sergeant emptied out the contents of each into a little heap, opposite +which he placed the appropriate envelope with its written description. +Thorndyke ran his eye over the collection—which was commonplace +enough—until he came to the tobacco pouch, from which protruded the +corner of a scrap of crumpled paper. This he drew forth and smoothed +out the creases, when it was seen to be a railway receipt for an +excess fare. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems to have lost his ticket or travelled without one,” the sergeant +remarked. “But not on this line.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” agreed Thorndyke. “It is the Tilbury and Southend line. But you +notice the date. It is the 18th; and the body was found on the morning +of Wednesday, the 19th. So it would appear that he must have come into +this neighbourhood in the evening; and that he must have come either +by way of London or by a very complicated cross-country route. I +wonder what brought him here.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced his note-book and was beginning to copy the receipt when +the sergeant said: +</p> + +<p> +“You had better take the paper, sir. It is of no use to us now, and it +isn’t very easy to make out.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke thanked the officer, and, handing me the paper, asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What do you make of it, Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +I scrutinized the little crumpled scrap and deciphered with difficulty +the hurried scrawl, scribbled with a hard, ill-sharpened pencil. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to read Ldn to ‘C.B. or S.B., Hlt’—that is some ‘Halt,’ I +presume. But the amount, 4/9, is clear enough, and that will give us a +clue if we want one.” I returned the paper to Thorndyke, who bestowed +it in his pocket-book and then remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see any keys.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” replied the sergeant, “there aren’t any. Rather queer, +that, for he must have had at least a latch-key. They must have fallen +out into the water.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is possible,” said Thorndyke, “but it would be worth while to +make sure. Is there anyone who could show us the place where the body +was found?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will walk up there with you myself, sir, with pleasure,” said the +sergeant, hastily repacking the envelopes. “It is only a quarter of an +hour’s walk from here.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is very good of you, sergeant,” my colleague responded; “and as +we seem to have seen everything here, I propose that we start at once. +You are not coming with us, Parton?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” the doctor replied. “I have finished with the case and I have +got my work to do.” He shook hands with us heartily and watched +us—with some curiosity, I think—as we set forth in company with the +sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +His curiosity did not seem to me to be unjustified. In fact, I shared +it. The presence of the police officer precluded discussion, but as we +took our way out of the town I found myself speculating curiously on +my colleague’s proceedings. To me, suicide was written plainly on +every detail of the case. Of course, we did not wish to take that +view, but what other was possible? Had Thorndyke some alternative +theory? Or was he merely, according to his invariable custom, making +an impartial survey of everything, no matter how apparently trivial, +in the hope of lighting on some new and informative fact? +</p> + +<p> +The temporary absence of the sergeant, who had stopped to speak to a +constable on duty, enabled me to put the question. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this expedition intended to clear up anything in particular?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied, “excepting the keys, which ought to be found. But +you must see for yourself that this is not a straightforward case. +That man did not come all this way merely to drown himself in a ditch. +I am quite in the dark at present, so there is nothing for it but to +examine everything with our own eyes and see if there is anything that +has been overlooked that may throw some light on either the motive or +the circumstances. It is always desirable to examine the scene of a +crime or a tragedy.” +</p> + +<p> +Here the return of the sergeant put a stop to the discussion and we +proceeded on our way in silence. Already we had passed out of the +town, and we now turned out of the main road into a lane or by-road, +bordered by meadows and orchards and enclosed by rather high +hedgerows. +</p> + +<p> +“This is Ponder’s Road,” said the sergeant. “It leads to Renham, a +couple of miles farther on, where it joins the Aylesbury Road. The +cart track is on the left a little way along.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later we came to our turning, a narrow and rather muddy +lane, the entrance to which was shaded by a grove of tall elms. +Passing through this shady avenue, we came out on a grass-covered +track, broken by deep wagon-ruts and bordered on each side by a ditch, +beyond which was a wide expanse of marshy meadows. +</p> + +<p> +“This is the place,” said the sergeant, halting by the side of the +right-hand ditch and indicating a spot where the rushes had been +flattened down. “It was just as you see it now, only the feet were +just visible sticking out of the duck-weed, which had drifted back +after Moffet had disturbed it.” +</p> + +<p> +We stood awhile looking at the ditch, with its thick mantle of bright +green, spotted with innumerable small dark objects and showing here +and there a faint track where a water-vole had swum across. +</p> + +<p> +“Those little dark objects are water-snails, I suppose,” said I, by +way of making some kind of remark. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke; “the common Amber shell, I think—<i>Succinea +putris</i>.” He reached out his stick and fished up a sample of the +duck-weed, on which one or two of the snails were crawling. “Yes,” he +repeated. “<i>Succinea putris</i> it is; a queer little left-handed shell, +with the spire, as you see, all lop-sided. They have a habit of +swarming in this extraordinary way. You notice that the ditch is +covered with them.” +</p> + +<p> +I had already observed this, but it hardly seemed to be worth +commenting on under the present circumstances—which was apparently +the sergeant’s view also, for he looked at Thorndyke with some +surprise, which developed into impatience when my colleague proceeded +further to expand on the subject of natural history. +</p> + +<p> +“These water-weeds,” he observed, “are very remarkable plants in their +various ways. Look at this duck-weed, for instance. Just a little +green oval disc with a single root hanging down into the water, like a +tiny umbrella with a long handle; and yet it is a complete plant, and +a flowering plant, too.” He picked a specimen off the end of his stick +and held it up by its root to exhibit its umbrella-like form; and as +he did so, he looked in my face with an expression that I felt to be +somehow significant; but of which I could not extract the meaning. But +there was no difficulty in interpreting the expression on the +sergeant’s face. He had come here on business and he wanted to “cut +the cackle and get to the hosses.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sergeant,” said Thorndyke, “there isn’t much to see, but I +think we ought to have a look for those keys. He must have had keys of +some kind, if only a latch-key; and they must be in this ditch.” +</p> + +<p> +The sergeant was not enthusiastic. “I’ve no doubt you are right, sir,” +said he; “but I don’t see that we should be much forrarder if we found +them. However, we may as well have a look, only I can’t stay more than +a few minutes. I’ve got my work to do at the station.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “let us get to work at once. We had better +hook out the weed and look it over; and if the keys are not in that, +we must try to expose the bottom where the body was lying. You must +tell us if we are working in the right place.” +</p> + +<p> +With this he began, with the crooked handle of his stick, to rake up +the tangle of weed that covered the bottom of the ditch and drag the +detached masses ashore, piling them on the bank and carefully looking +them through to see if the keys should chance to be entangled in their +meshes. In this work I took my part under the sergeant’s direction, +raking in load after load of the delicate, stringy weed, on the pale +green ribbon-like leaves of which multitudes of the water-snails were +creeping; and sorting over each batch in hopeless and fruitless search +for the missing keys. In about ten minutes we had removed the entire +weedy covering from the bottom of the ditch over an area of from eight +to nine feet—the place which, according to the sergeant, the body had +occupied; and as the duck-weed had been caught by the tangled masses +of water-weed that we had dragged ashore, we now had an uninterrupted +view of the cleared space save for the clouds of mud that we had +stirred up. +</p> + +<p> +“We must give the mud a few minutes to settle,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” the sergeant agreed, “it will take some time; and as it doesn’t +really concern me now that the inquest is over, I think I will get +back to the station if you will excuse me.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke excused him very willingly, I think, though politely and +with many thanks for his help. When he had gone I remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“I am inclined to agree with the sergeant. If we find the keys we +shan’t be much forrarder.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall know that he had them with him,” he replied. “Though, of +course, if we don’t find them, that will not prove that they are not +here. Still, I think we should try to settle the question.” +</p> + +<p> +His answer left me quite unconvinced; but the care with which he +searched the ditch and sorted out the weed left me in no doubt that, +to him, the matter seemed to be of some importance. However, nothing +came of the search. If the keys were there they were buried in the +mud, and eventually we had to give up the search and make our way back +towards the station. +</p> + +<p> +As we passed out of the lane into Ponder’s Road, Thorndyke stopped at +the entrance, under the trees, by a little triangle of turf which +marked the beginning of the lane, and looked down at the muddy ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is quite an interesting thing, Jervis,” he remarked, “which +shows us how standardized objects tend to develop an individual +character. These are the tracks of a car, or more probably a +tradesman’s van, which was fitted with Barlow tyres. Now there must be +thousands of vans fitted with these tyres; they are the favourite type +for light covered vans, and when new they are all alike and +indistinguishable. Yet this tyre—of the off hind-wheel—has acquired +a character which would enable one to pick it out with certainty from +ten thousand others. First, you see, there is a deep cut in the tyre +at an angle of forty-five, then a kidney-shaped ‘Blakey’ has stuck in +the outer tyre without puncturing the inner; and finally some adhesive +object—perhaps a lump of pitch from a newly-mended road—has become +fixed on just behind the ‘Blakey.’ Now, if we make a rough sketch of +those three marks and indicate their distance apart, thus”—here he +made a rapid sketch in his note-book, and wrote in the intervals in +inches—“we have the means of swearing to the identity of a vehicle +which we have never seen.” +</p> + +<p> +“And which,” I added, “had for some reason swerved over to the wrong +side of the road. Yes, I should say that tyre is certainly unique. But +surely most tyres are identifiable when they have been in use for some +time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly,” he replied. “That was my point. The standardized thing is +devoid of character only when it is new.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not a very subtle point, and as it was fairly obvious I made no +comment, but presently reverted to the case of Pedley deceased. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t quite see why you are taking all this trouble. The insurance +claim is not likely to be contested. No one can prove that it was a +case of suicide, though I should think no one will feel any doubt that +it was, at least that is my own feeling.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at me with an expression of reproach. +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid that my learned friend has not been making very good use +of his eyes,” said he. “He has allowed his attention to be distracted +by superficial appearances.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t think that it was suicide, then?” I asked, considerably +taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t a question of thinking,” he replied. “It was certainly not +suicide. There are the plainest indications of homicide; and, of +course, in the particular circumstances, homicide means murder.” +</p> + +<p> +I was thunderstruck. In my own mind I had dismissed the case somewhat +contemptuously as a mere commonplace suicide. As my friend had truly +said, I had accepted the obvious appearances and let them mislead me, +whereas Thorndyke had followed his golden rule of accepting nothing +and observing everything. But what was it that he had observed? I knew +that it was useless to ask, but still I ventured on a tentative +question. +</p> + +<p> +“When did you come to the conclusion that it was a case of homicide?” +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as I had had a good look at the place where the body was +found,” he replied promptly. +</p> + +<p> +This did not help me much, for I had given very little attention to +anything but the search for the keys. The absence of those keys was, +of course, a suspicious fact, if it was a fact. But we had not proved +their absence; we had only failed to find them. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you propose to do next?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently,” he answered, “there are two things to be done. One is to +test the murder theory—to look for more evidence for or against it; +the other is to identify the murderer, if possible. But really the two +problems are one, since they involve the questions, Who had a motive +for killing Cyrus Pedley? and Who had the opportunity and the means?” +</p> + +<p> +Our discussion brought us to the station, where, outside the hotel, we +found Mr. Pedley waiting for us. +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad you have come,” said he. “I was beginning to fear that we +should lose this train. I suppose there is no new light on this +mysterious affair?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Thorndyke replied. “Rather there is a new problem. No keys were +found in your brother’s pockets, and we have failed to find them in +the ditch; though, of course, they may be there.” +</p> + +<p> +“They must be,” said Pedley. “They must have fallen out of his pocket +and got buried in the mud, unless he lost them previously, which is +most unlikely. It is a pity, though. We shall have to break open his +cabinets and drawers, which he would have hated. He was very +fastidious about his furniture.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will have to break into his flat, too,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied, “I shan’t have to do that. I have a duplicate of his +latch-key. He had a spare bedroom which he let me use if I wanted to +stay in town.” As he spoke, he produced his key-bunch and exhibited a +small Chubb latch-key. “I wish we had the others, though,” he added. +</p> + +<p> +Here the up-train was heard approaching and we hurried on to the +platform, selecting an empty first-class compartment as it drew up. As +soon as the train had started, Thorndyke began his inquiries, to which +I listened attentively. +</p> + +<p> +“You said that your brother had been anxious and depressed lately. Was +there anything more than this? Any nervousness or foreboding?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, yes,” replied Pedley. “Looking back, I seem to see that the +possibility of death was in his mind. A week or two ago he brought his +will to me to see if it was quite satisfactory to me as the principal +beneficiary; and he handed to me his last receipt for the insurance +premium. That looks a little suggestive.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does,” Thorndyke agreed. “And as to his occupation and his +associates, what do you know about them?” +</p> + +<p> +“His private friends are mostly my own, but of his official associates +I know nothing. He was connected with the Foreign Office; but in what +capacity I don’t know at all. He was extremely reticent on the +subject. I only know that he travelled about a good deal, presumably +on official business.” +</p> + +<p> +This was not very illuminating, but it was all our client had to tell; +and the conversation languished somewhat until the train drew up at +Marylebone, when Thorndyke said, as if by an after-thought: +</p> + +<p> +“You have your brother’s latch-key. How would it be if we just took a +glance at the flat? Have you time now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will make time,” was the reply, “if you want to see the flat. I +don’t see what you could learn from inspecting it; but that is your +affair. I am in your hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to look round the rooms,” Thorndyke answered; and as +our client assented, we approached a taxi-cab and entered while Pedley +gave the driver the necessary directions. A quarter of an hour later +we drew up opposite a tall block of buildings, and Mr. Pedley, having +paid off the cab, led the way to the lift. +</p> + +<p> +The dead man’s flat was on the third floor, and, like the others, was +distinguished only by the number on the door. Mr. Pedley inserted the +key into the latch, and having opened the door, preceded us across the +small lobby into the sitting-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” he exclaimed, as he entered, “this solves your problem.” As he +spoke, he pointed to the table, on which lay a small bunch of keys, +including a latch-key similar to the one that he had shown us. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” he continued, “it is rather extraordinary. It just shows what a +very disturbed state his mind must have been in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed, looking critically about the room; “and as +the latch-key is there, it raises the question whether the keys may +have been out of his possession. Do you know what the various locked +receptacles contain?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know pretty well what is in the bureau; but as to the cupboard +above it, I have never seen it open and don’t know what he kept in it. +I always assumed that he reserved it for his official papers. I will +just see if anything seems to have been disturbed.” +</p> + +<p> +He unlocked and opened the flap of the old-fashioned bureau and pulled +out the small drawers one after the other, examining the contents of +each. Then he opened each of the larger drawers and turned over the +various articles in them. As he closed the last one, he reported: +“Everything seems to be in order—cheque-book, insurance policy, a few +share certificates, and so on. Nothing seems to have been touched. Now +we will try the cupboard, though I don’t suppose its contents would be +of much interest to anyone but himself. I wonder which is the key.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at the keyhole and made a selection from the bunch, but it +was evidently the wrong key. He tried another and yet another with a +like result, until he had exhausted the resources of the bunch. +</p> + +<p> +“It is very remarkable,” he said. “None of these keys seems to fit. I +wonder if he kept this particular key locked up or hidden. It wasn’t +in the bureau. Will you try what you can do?” +</p> + +<p> +He handed the bunch to Thorndyke, who tried all the keys in succession +with the same result. None of them was the key belonging to the lock. +At length, having tried them all, he inserted one and turned it as far +as it would go. Then he gave a sharp pull; and immediately the door +came open. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, it was unlocked after all!” exclaimed Mr. Pedley. “And there is +nothing in it. That is why there was no key on the bunch. Apparently +he didn’t use the cupboard.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked critically at the single vacant shelf, drawing his +finger along it in two places and inspecting his finger-tips. Then he +turned his attention to the lock, which was of the kind that is +screwed on the inside of the door, leaving the bolt partly exposed. He +took the bolt in his fingers and pushed it out and then in again; and +by the way it moved I could see that the spring was broken. On this he +made no comment, but remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“The cupboard has been in use pretty lately. You can see the trace of +a largish volume—possibly a box-file—on the shelf. There is hardly +any dust there, whereas the rest of the shelf is fairly thickly +coated. However, that does not carry us very far; and the appearance +of the rooms is otherwise quite normal.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite,” agreed Pedley. “But why shouldn’t it be? You didn’t +suspect——” +</p> + +<p> +“I was merely testing the suggestion offered by the absence of the +keys,” said Thorndyke. “By the way, have you communicated with the +Foreign Office?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” was the reply, “but I suppose I ought to. What had I better say +to them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should merely state the facts in the first instance. But you can, +if you like, say that I definitely reject the idea of suicide.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad to hear you say that,” said Pedley. “Can I give any reasons +for your opinion?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not in the first place,” replied Thorndyke. “I will consider the case +and let you have a reasoned report in a day or two, which you can show +to the Foreign Office and also to the insurance company.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Pedley looked as if he would have liked to ask some further +questions, but as Thorndyke now made his way to the door, he followed +in silence, pocketing the keys as we went out. He accompanied us down +to the entry and there we left him, setting forth in the direction of +South Kensington Station. +</p> + +<p> +“It looked to me,” said I, as soon as we were out of ear-shot, “as if +that lock had been forced. What do you think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he answered, “locks get broken in ordinary use, but taking all +the facts together, I think you are right. There are too many +coincidences for reasonable probability. First, this man leaves his +keys, including his latch-key, on the table, which is an extraordinary +thing to do. On that very occasion, he is found dead under +inexplicable circumstances. Then, of all the locks in his rooms, the +one which happens to be broken is the one of which the key is not on +the bunch. That is a very suspicious group of facts.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is,” I agreed. “And if there is, as you say—though I can’t +imagine on what grounds—evidence of foul play, that makes it still +more suspicious. But what is the next move? Have you anything in +view?” +</p> + +<p> +“The next move,” he replied, “is to clear up the mystery of the dead +man’s movements on the day of his death. The railway receipt shows +that on that day he travelled down somewhere into Essex. From that +place, he took a long, cross-country journey of which the destination +was a ditch by a lonely meadow in Buckinghamshire. The questions that +we have to answer are, What was he doing in Essex? Why did he make +that strange journey? Did he make it alone? and, if not, Who +accompanied him? +</p> + +<p> +“Now, obviously, the first thing to do is to locate that place in +Essex; and when we have done that, to go down there and see if we can +pick up any traces of the dead man.” +</p> + +<p> +“That sounds like a pretty vague quest,” said I; “but if we fail, the +police may be able to find out something. By the way, we want a new +<i>Bradshaw</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“An excellent suggestion, Jervis,” said he. “I will get one as we go +into the station.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later, as we sat on a bench waiting for our train, he +passed to me the open copy of <i>Bradshaw</i>, with the crumpled railway +receipt. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” said he, “it was apparently ‘G.B.Hlt.’ and the fare from +London was four and ninepence. Here is Great Buntingfield Halt, the +fare to which is four and ninepence. That must be the place. At any +rate, we will give it a trial. May I take it that you are coming to +lend a hand? I shall start in good time to-morrow morning.” +</p> + +<p> +I assented emphatically. Never had I been more completely in the dark +than I was in this case, and seldom had I known Thorndyke to be more +positive and confident. Obviously, he had something up his sleeve; and +I was racked with curiosity as to what that something was. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +On the following morning we made a fairly early start, and half-past +ten found us seated in the train, looking out across a dreary waste of +marshes, with the estuary of the Thames a mile or so distant. For the +first time in my recollection Thorndyke had come unprovided with his +inevitable “research case,” but I noted that he had furnished himself +with a botanist’s vasculum—or tin collecting-case—and that his +pocket bulged as if he had some other appliances concealed about his +person. Also that he carried a walking-stick that was strange to me. +</p> + +<p> +“This will be our destination, I think,” he said, as the train slowed +down; and sure enough it presently came to rest beside a little +makeshift platform on which was displayed the name “Great Buntingfield +Halt.” We were the only passengers to alight, and the guard, having +noted the fact, blew his whistle and dismissed the little station with +a contemptuous wave of his flag. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke lingered on the platform after the train had gone, taking a +general survey of the country. Half a mile away to the north a small +village was visible; while to the south the marshes stretched away to +the river, their bare expanse unbroken save by a solitary building +whose unredeemed hideousness proclaimed it a factory of some kind. +Presently the station-master approached deferentially, and as we +proffered our tickets, Thorndyke remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t seem overburdened with traffic here.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir. You’re right,” was the emphatic reply. “ ’Tis a dead-alive +place. Excepting the people at the Golomite Works and one now and then +from the village, no one uses the halt. You’re the first strangers +I’ve seen for more than a month.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” said Thorndyke. “But I think you are forgetting one. An +acquaintance of mine came here last Tuesday—and by the same token, he +hadn’t got a ticket and had to pay his fare.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I remember,” the station-master replied. “You mean a gentleman +with a scar on his cheek. But I don’t count him as a stranger. He has +been here before; I think he is connected with the works, as he always +goes up their road.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you happen to remember what time he came back?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“He didn’t come back at all,” was the reply. “I am sure of that, +because I work the halt and level crossing by myself. I remember +thinking it queer that he didn’t come back, because the ticket that he +had lost was a return. He must have gone back in the van belonging to +the works—that one that you see coming towards the crossing.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, he pointed to a van that was approaching down the factory +road—a small covered van with the name “Golomite Works” painted, not +on the cover, but on a board that was attached to it. The +station-master walked towards the crossing to open the gates, and we +followed; and when the van had passed, Thorndyke wished our friend +“Good morning,” and led the way along the road, looking about him with +lively interest and rather with the air of one looking for something +in particular. +</p> + +<p> +We had covered about two-thirds of the distance to the factory when +the road approached a wide ditch; and from the attention with which my +friend regarded it, I suspected that this was the something for which +he had been looking. It was, however, quite unapproachable, for it was +bordered by a wide expanse of soft mud thickly covered with rushes and +trodden deeply by cattle. Nevertheless, Thorndyke followed its margin, +still looking about him keenly, until, about a couple of hundred yards +from the factory, I observed a small decayed wooden staging or quay, +apparently the remains of a vanished footbridge. Here Thorndyke +halted, and unbuttoning his coat, began to empty out his pockets, +producing first the vasculum, then a small case containing three +wide-mouthed bottles—both of which he deposited on the ground—and +finally a sort of miniature landing-net, which he proceeded to screw +on to the ferrule of his stick. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it,” said I, “that these proceedings are a blind to cover some +sort of observations.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” he replied. “We are engaged in the study of pond and +ditch natural history, and a most fascinating and instructive study it +is. The variety of forms is endless. This ditch, you observe, like the +one at Bantree, is covered with a dense growth of duck-weed: but +whereas that ditch was swarming with succineæ, here there is not a +single succinea to be seen.” +</p> + +<p> +I grunted a sulky assent, and watched suspiciously as he filled the +bottles with water from the ditch and then made a preliminary sweep +with his net. +</p> + +<p> +“Here is a trial sample,” said he, holding the loaded net towards me. +“Duck-weed, horn-weed, Planorbis nautileus, but no succineæ. What do +you think of it, Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +I looked distastefully at the repulsive mess, but yet with attention, +for I realized that there was a meaning in his question. And then, +suddenly, my attention sharpened. I picked out of the net a strand of +dark green, plumy weed and examined it. +</p> + +<p> +“So this is horn-weed,” I said. “Then it was a piece of horn-weed that +Cyrus Pedley held grasped in his hand; and now I come to think of it, +I don’t remember seeing any horn-weed in the ditch at Bantree.” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded approvingly. “There wasn’t any,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“And these little ammonite-like shells are just like those that I +noticed at the bottom of Dr. Parton’s jar. But I don’t remember seeing +any in the Bantree ditch.” +</p> + +<p> +“There were none there,” said he. “And the duck-weed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well,” I replied, “duck-weed is duck-weed, and there’s an end of +it.” +</p> + +<p> +He chuckled aloud at my answer, and quoting: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“<i>A primrose by the river’s brim</i></span><br> +<span class="i0"><i>A yellow primrose was to him</i>,”</span> +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p class="noindent"> +bestowed a part of the catch in the vasculum, then turned once more to +the ditch and began to ply his net vigorously, emptying out each +netful on the grass, looking it over quickly and then making a fresh +sweep, dragging the net each time through the mud at the bottom. I +watched him now with a new and very lively interest; for enlightenment +was dawning, mingled with some self-contempt and much speculation as +to how Thorndyke had got his start in this case. +</p> + +<p> +But I was not the only interested watcher. At one of the windows of +the factory I presently observed a man who seemed to be looking our +way. After a few seconds’ inspection he disappeared, to reappear +almost immediately with a pair of field-glasses, through which he took +a long look at us. Then he disappeared again, but in less than a +minute I saw him emerge from a side door and advance hurriedly towards +us. +</p> + +<p> +“We are going to have a notice of ejectment served on us, I fancy,” +said I. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke glanced quickly at the approaching stranger but continued to +ply his net, working, as I noticed, methodically from left to right. +When the man came within fifty yards he hailed us with a brusque +inquiry as to what our business was. I went forward to meet him and, +if possible, to detain him in conversation; but this plan failed, for +he ignored me and bore straight down on Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, then,” said he, “what’s the game? What are you doing here?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke was in the act of raising his net from the water, but he now +suddenly let it fall to the bottom of the ditch while he turned to +confront the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it that you have some reason for asking,” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I have,” the other replied angrily and with a slight foreign +accent that agreed with his appearance—he looked like a Slav of some +sort. “This is private land. It belongs to the factory. I am the +manager.” +</p> + +<p> +“The land is not enclosed,” Thorndyke remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“I tell you the land is private land,” the fellow retorted excitedly. +“You have no business here. I want to know what you are doing.” +</p> + +<p> +“My good sir,” said Thorndyke, “there is no need to excite yourself. +My friend and I are just collecting botanical and other specimens.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do I know that?” the manager demanded. He looked round +suspiciously and his eye lighted on the vasculum. “What have you got +in that thing?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Let him see what is in it,” said Thorndyke, with a significant look +at me. +</p> + +<p> +Interpreting this as an instruction to occupy the man’s attention for +a few moments, I picked up the vasculum and placed myself so that he +must turn his back to Thorndyke to look into it. I fumbled awhile with +the catch, but at length opened the case and began to pick out the +weed strand by strand. As soon as the stranger’s back was turned +Thorndyke raised his net and quickly picked out of it something which +he slipped into his pocket. Then he advanced towards us, sorting out +the contents of his net as he came. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, “you see we are just harmless naturalists. By the +way, what did you think we were looking for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind what I thought,” the other replied fiercely. “This is +private land. You have no business here, and you have got to clear +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “As you please. There are plenty of other +ditches.” He took the vasculum and the case of bottles, and having put +them in his pocket, unscrewed his net, wished the stranger “Good +morning,” and turned back towards the station. The man stood watching +us until we were near the level crossing, when he, too, turned back +and retired to the factory. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw you take something out of the net,” said I. “What was it?” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced back to make sure that the manager was out of sight. Then +he put his hand in his pocket, drew it out closed, and suddenly opened +it. In his palm lay a small gold dental plate with four teeth on it. +</p> + +<p> +“My word!” I exclaimed; “this clenches the matter with a vengeance. +That is certainly Cyrus Pedley’s plate. It corresponds exactly to the +description.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied, “it is practically a certainty. Of course, it will +have to be identified by the dentist who made it. But it is a foregone +conclusion.” +</p> + +<p> +I reflected as we walked towards the station on the singular sureness +with which Thorndyke had followed what was to me an invisible trail. +Presently I said: +</p> + +<p> +“What is puzzling me is how you got your start in this case. What gave +you the first hint that it was homicide and not suicide or +misadventure?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was the old story, Jervis,” he replied; “just a matter of +observing and remembering apparently trivial details. Here, by the +way, is a case in point.” +</p> + +<p> +He stopped and looked down at a set of tracks in the soft, earth +road—apparently those of the van which we had seen cross the line. I +followed the direction of his glance and saw the clear impression of a +Blakey’s protector, preceded by that of a gash in the tyre and +followed by that of a projecting lump. +</p> + +<p> +“But this is astounding!” I exclaimed. “It is almost certainly the +same track that we saw in Ponder’s Road.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he agreed. “I noticed it as we came along.” He brought out his +spring-tape and note-book, and handing the latter to me, stooped and +measured the distances between the three impressions. I wrote them +down as he called them out, and then we compared them with the note +made in Ponder’s Road. The measurements were identical, as were the +relative positions of the impressions. +</p> + +<p> +“This is an important piece of evidence,” said he. “I wish we were +able to take casts, but the notes will be pretty conclusive. And now,” +he continued as we resumed our progress towards the station, “to +return to your question. Parton’s evidence at the inquest proved that +Cyrus Pedley was drowned in water which contained duck-weed. He +produced a specimen and we both saw it. We saw the duck-weed in it and +also two Planorbis shells. The presence of those two shells proved +that the water in which he was drowned must have swarmed with them. We +saw the body, and observed that one hand grasped a wisp of horn-weed. +Then we went to view the ditch and we examined it. That was when I +got, not a mere hint, but a crucial and conclusive fact. The ditch was +covered with duck-weed, as we expected. <i>But it was the wrong +duck-weed.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“The wrong duck-weed!” I exclaimed. “Why, how many kinds of duck-weed +are there?” +</p> + +<p> +“There are four British species,” he replied. “The Greater Duck-weed, +the Lesser Duck-weed, the Thick Duck-weed, and the Ivy-leaved +Duck-weed. Now the specimens in Parton’s jar I noticed were the +Greater Duck-weed, which is easily distinguished by its roots, which +are multiple and form a sort of tassel. But the duck-weed on the +Bantree ditch was the Lesser Duck-weed, which is smaller than the +other, but is especially distinguished by having only a single root. +It is impossible to mistake one for the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, then, was practically conclusive evidence of murder. Cyrus +Pedley had been drowned in a pond or ditch. But not in the ditch in +which his body was found. Therefore his dead body had been conveyed +from some other place and put into this ditch. Such a proceeding +furnishes <i>prima facie</i> evidence of murder. But as soon as the +question was raised, there was an abundance of confirmatory evidence. +There was no horn-weed or Planorbis shells in the ditch, but there +were swarms of succineæ, some of which would inevitably have been +swallowed with the water. There was an obscure linear pressure mark on +the arm of the dead man, just above the elbow: such a mark as might be +made by a cord if a man were pinioned to render him helpless. Then the +body would have had to be conveyed to this place in some kind of +vehicle; and we found the traces of what appeared to be a motor-van, +which had approached the cart-track on the wrong side of the road, as +if to pull up there. It was a very conclusive mass of evidence; but it +would have been useless but for the extraordinarily lucky chance that +poor Pedley had lost his railway ticket and preserved the receipt; by +which we were able to ascertain where he was on the day of his death +and in what locality the murder was probably committed. But that is +not the only way in which Fortune has favoured us. The +station-master’s information was, and will be, invaluable. Then it was +most fortunate for us that there was only one ditch on the factory +land; and that that ditch was accessible at only one point, which must +have been the place where Pedley was drowned.” +</p> + +<p> +“The duck-weed in this ditch is, of course, the Greater Duck-weed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I have taken some specimens as well as the horn-weed and +shells.” +</p> + +<p> +He opened the vasculum and picked out one of the tiny plants, +exhibiting the characteristic tassel of roots. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall write to Parton and tell him to preserve the jar and the +horn-weed if it has not been thrown away. But the duck-weed alone, +produced in evidence, would be proof enough that Pedley was not +drowned in the Bantree ditch; and the dental plate will show where he +was drowned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going to pursue the case any farther?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied. “I shall call at Scotland Yard on my way home and +report what I have learned and what I can prove in court. Then I shall +have finished with the case. The rest is for the police, and I imagine +they won’t have much difficulty. The circumstances seem to tell their +own story. Pedley was employed by the Foreign Office, probably on some +kind of secret service. I imagine that he discovered the existence of +a gang of evil-doers—probably foreign revolutionaries, of whom we may +assume that our friend the manager of the factory is one; that he +contrived to associate himself with them and to visit the factory +occasionally to ascertain what was made there besides Golomite—if +Golomite is not itself an illicit product. Then I assume that he was +discovered to be a spy, that he was lured down here; that he was +pinioned and drowned some time on Tuesday night and his body put into +the van and conveyed to a place miles away from the scene of his +death, where it was deposited in a ditch apparently identical in +character with that in which he was drowned. It was an extremely +ingenious and well-thought-out plan. It seemed to have provided for +every kind of inquiry, and it very narrowly missed being successful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I agreed. “But it didn’t provide for Dr. John Thorndyke.” +</p> + +<p> +“It didn’t provide for a searching examination of all the details,” he +replied; “and no criminal plan that I have ever met has done so. The +completeness of the scheme is limited by the knowledge of the +schemers, and, in practice, there is always something overlooked. In +this case, the criminals were unlearned in the natural history of +ditches.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +Thorndyke’s theory of the crime turned out to be substantially +correct. The Golomite Works proved to be a factory where high +explosives were made by a gang of cosmopolitan revolutionaries who +were all known to the police. But the work of the latter was +simplified by a detailed report which the dead man had deposited at +his bank and which was discovered in time to enable the police to raid +the factory and secure the whole gang. When once they were under lock +and key, further information was forthcoming; for a charge of murder +against them jointly soon produced King’s Evidence sufficient to +procure a conviction of the three actual perpetrators of the murder. +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch05"> +V.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">MR. PONTING’S ALIBI</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Thorndyke</span> looked doubtfully at the pleasant-faced, athletic-looking +clergyman who had just come in, bearing Mr. Brodribb’s card as an +explanatory credential. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t quite see,” said he, “why Mr. Brodribb sent you to me. It +seems to be a purely legal matter which he could have dealt with +himself, at least as well as I can.” +</p> + +<p> +“He appeared to think otherwise,” said the clergyman. (“The Revd. +Charles Meade” was written on the card.) “At any rate,” he added with +a persuasive smile, “here I am, and I hope you are not going to send +me away.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t offer that affront to my old friend Brodribb,” replied +Thorndyke, smiling in return; “so we may as well get to business, +which, in the first place, involves the setting out of all the +particulars. Let us begin with the lady who is the subject of the +threats of which you spoke.” +</p> + +<p> +“Her name,” said Mr. Meade, “is Miss Millicent Fawcett. She is a +person of independent means, which she employs in works of charity. +She was formerly a hospital sister, and she does a certain amount of +voluntary work in the parish as a sort of district nurse. She has been +a very valuable help to me and we have been close friends for several +years; and I may add, as a very material fact, that she has consented +to marry me in about two months’ time. So that, you see, I am properly +entitled to act on her behalf.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Thorndyke. “You are an interested party. And now, as to +the threats. What do they amount to?” +</p> + +<p> +“That,” replied Meade, “I can’t tell you. I gathered quite by chance +from some words that she dropped, that she had been threatened. But +she was unwilling to say more on the subject, as she did not take the +matter seriously. She is not at all nervous. However, I told her I was +taking advice; and I hope you will be able to extract more details +from her. For my own part, I am decidedly uneasy.” +</p> + +<p> +“And as to the person or persons who have uttered the threats. Who are +they? and out of what circumstances have the threats arisen?” +</p> + +<p> +“The person is a certain William Ponting, who is Miss Fawcett’s +step-brother—if that is the right term. Her father married, as his +second wife, a Mrs. Ponting, a widow with one son. This is the son. +His mother died before Mr. Fawcett, and the latter, when he died, left +his daughter, Millicent, sole heir to his property. That has always +been a grievance to Ponting. But now he has another. Miss Fawcett made +a will some years ago by which the bulk of her rather considerable +property is left to two cousins, Frederick and James Barnett, the sons +of her father’s sister. A comparatively small amount goes to Ponting. +When he heard this he was furious. He demanded a portion at least +equal to the others, and has continued to make this demand from time +to time. In fact, he has been extremely troublesome, and appears to be +getting still more so. I gathered that the threats were due to her +refusal to alter the will.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” said I, “doesn’t he realize that her marriage will render that +will null and void?” +</p> + +<p> +“Apparently not,” replied Meade; “nor, to tell the truth, did I +realize it myself. Will she have to make a new will?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” I replied. “And as that new will may be expected to be +still less favourable to him, that will presumably be a further +grievance.” +</p> + +<p> +“One doesn’t understand,” said Thorndyke, “why he should excite +himself so much about her will. What are their respective ages?” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Fawcett is thirty-six and Ponting is about forty.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what kind of man is he?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“A very unpleasant kind of man, I am sorry to say. Morose, rude, and +violent-tempered. A spendthrift and a cadger. He has had quite a lot +of money from Miss Fawcett—loans, which, of course, are never repaid. +And he is none too industrious, though he has a regular job on the +staff of a weekly paper. But he seems to be always in debt.” +</p> + +<p> +“We may as well note his address,” said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“He lives in a small flat in Bloomsbury—alone, now, since he +quarrelled with the man who used to share it with him. The address is +12 Borneo House, Devonshire Street.” +</p> + +<p> +“What sort of terms is he on with the cousins, his rivals?” +</p> + +<p> +“No sort of terms now,” replied Meade. “They used to be great friends. +So much so that he took his present flat to be near them—they live in +the adjoining flat, number 12 Sumatra House. But since the trouble +about the will, he is hardly on speaking terms with them.” +</p> + +<p> +“They live together, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Frederick and his wife and James, who is unmarried. They are +rather a queer lot, too. Frederick is a singer on the variety stage, +and James accompanies him on various instruments. But they are both +sporting characters of a kind, especially James, who does a bit on the +turf and engages in other odd activities. Of course, their musical +habits are a grievance to Ponting. He is constantly making complaints +of their disturbing him at his work.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Meade paused and looked wistfully at Thorndyke, who was making +full notes of the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the latter, “we seem to have got all the facts excepting +the most important—the nature of the threats. What do you want us to +do?” +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to see Miss Fawcett—with me, if possible—and induce her +to give you such details as would enable you to put a stop to the +nuisance. You couldn’t come to-night, I suppose? It is a beast of a +night, but I would take you there in a taxi—it is only to Tooting +Bec. What do you say?” he added eagerly, as Thorndyke made no +objection. “We are sure to find her in, because her maid is away on a +visit to her home and she is alone in the house.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked reflectively at his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“Half-past eight,” he remarked, “and half an hour to get there. These +threats are probably nothing but ill-temper. But we don’t know. There +may be something more serious behind them; and, in law as in medicine, +prevention is better than a post-mortem. What do you say, Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +What could I say? I would much sooner have sat by the fire with a book +than turn out into the murk of a November night. But I felt it +necessary, especially as Thorndyke had evidently made up his mind. +Accordingly I made a virtue of necessity; and a couple of minutes +later we had exchanged the cosy room for the chilly darkness of Inner +Temple Lane, up which the gratified parson was speeding ahead to +capture a taxi. At the top of the Lane we perceived him giving +elaborate instructions to a taxi-driver as he held the door of the cab +open; and Thorndyke, having carefully disposed of his +research-case—which, to my secret amusement, he had caught up, from +mere force of habit, as we started—took his seat, and Meade and I +followed. +</p> + +<p> +As the taxi trundled smoothly along the dark streets, Mr. Meade filled +in the details of his previous sketch, and, in a simple, manly, +unaffected way dilated upon his good fortune and the pleasant future +that lay before him. It was not, perhaps, a romantic marriage, he +admitted; but Miss Fawcett and he had been faithful friends for years, +and faithful friends they would remain till death did them part. So he +ran on, now gleefully, now with a note of anxiety, and we listened by +no means unsympathetically, until at last the cab drew up at a small, +unpretentious house, standing in its own little grounds in a quiet +suburban road. +</p> + +<p> +“She is at home, you see,” observed Meade, pointing to a lighted +ground-floor window. He directed the taxi-driver to wait for the +return journey, and striding up the path, delivered a characteristic +knock at the door. As this brought no response, he knocked again and +rang the bell. But still there was no answer, though twice I thought I +heard the sound of a bolt being either drawn or shot softly. Again Mr. +Meade plied the knocker more vigorously, and pressed the push of the +bell, which we could hear ringing loudly within. +</p> + +<p> +“This is very strange,” said Meade, in an anxious tone, keeping his +thumb pressed on the bell-push. “She can’t have gone out and left the +electric light on. What had we better do?” +</p> + +<p> +“We had better enter without more delay,” Thorndyke replied. “There +were certainly sounds from within. Is there a side gate?” +</p> + +<p> +Meade ran off towards the side of the house, and Thorndyke and I +glanced at the lighted window, which was slightly open at the top. +</p> + +<p> +“Looks a bit queer,” I remarked, listening at the letter-box. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke assented gravely, and at this moment Meade returned, +breathing hard. +</p> + +<p> +“The side gate is bolted inside,” said he; and at this I recalled the +stealthy sound of the bolt that I had heard. “What is to be done?” +</p> + +<p> +Without replying, Thorndyke handed me his research-case, stepped +across to the window, sprang up on the sill, drew down the upper sash +and disappeared between the curtains into the room. A moment later the +street door opened and Meade and I entered the hall. We glanced +through the open doorway into the lighted room, and I noticed a heap +of needlework thrown hastily on the dining table. Then Meade switched +on the hall light, and Thorndyke walked quickly past him to the +half-open door of the next room. Before entering, he reached in and +switched on the light; and as he stepped into the room he partly +closed the door behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t come in here, Meade!” he called out. But the parson’s eye, like +my own, had seen something before the door closed: a great, dark stain +on the carpet just within the threshold. Regardless of the admonition, +he pushed the door open and darted into the room. Following him, I saw +him rush forward, fling his arms up wildly, and with a dreadful, +strangled cry, sink upon his knees beside a low couch on which a woman +was lying. +</p> + +<p> +“Merciful God!” he gasped. “She is dead! Is she dead, doctor? Can +nothing be done?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke shook his head. “Nothing,” he said in a low voice. “She is +dead.” +</p> + +<p> +Poor Meade knelt by the couch, his hands clutching at his hair and his +eyes riveted on the dead face, the very embodiment of horror and +despair. +</p> + +<p> +“God Almighty!” he exclaimed in the same strangled undertone. “How +frightful! Poor, poor Millie! Dear, sweet friend!” Then +suddenly—almost savagely—he turned to Thorndyke. “But it can’t be, +doctor! It is impossible—unbelievable. That, I mean!” and he pointed +to the dead woman’s right hand, which held an open razor. +</p> + +<p> +Our poor friend had spoken my own thought. It was incredible that this +refined, pious lady should have inflicted those savage wounds that +gaped scarlet beneath the waxen face. There, indeed, was the razor +lying in her hand. But what was its testimony worth? My heart rejected +it; but yet, unwillingly, I noted that the wounds seemed to support +it; for they had been made from left to right, as they would have been +if self-inflicted. +</p> + +<p> +“It is hard to believe,” said Thorndyke, “but there is only one +alternative. Someone should acquaint the police at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will go,” exclaimed Meade, starting up. “I know the way and the cab +is there.” He looked once more with infinite pity and affection at the +dead woman. “Poor, sweet girl!” he murmured. “If we can do no more for +you, we can defend your memory from calumny and call upon the God of +Justice to right the innocent and punish the guilty.” +</p> + +<p> +With these words and a mute farewell to his dead friend, he hurried +from the room, and immediately afterwards we heard the street door +close. +</p> + +<p> +As he went out, Thorndyke’s manner changed abruptly. He had been +deeply moved—as who would not have been—by this awful tragedy that +had in a moment shattered the happiness of the genial, kindly parson. +Now he turned to me with a face set and stern. +</p> + +<p> +“This is an abominable affair, Jervis,” he said in an ominously quiet +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“You reject the suggestion of suicide, then?” said I, with a feeling +of relief that surprised me. +</p> + +<p> +“Absolutely,” he replied. “Murder shouts at us from everything that +meets our eye. Look at this poor woman, in her trim nurse’s dress, +with her unfinished needlework lying on the table in the next room and +that preposterous razor loose in her limp hand. Look at the savage +wounds. Four of them, and the first one mortal. The great bloodstain +by the door, the great blood-stain on her dress from the neck to the +feet. The gashed collar, the cap-string cut right through. Note that +the bleeding had practically ceased when she lay down. That is a group +of visible facts that is utterly inconsistent with the idea of +suicide. But we are wasting time. Let us search the premises +thoroughly. The murderer has pretty certainly got away, but as he was +in the house when we arrived, any traces will be quite fresh.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he took his electric lamp from the research-case and +walked to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“We can examine this room later,” he said, “but we had better look +over the house. If you will stay by the stairs and watch the front and +back doors, I will look through the upper rooms.” +</p> + +<p> +He ran lightly up the stairs while I kept watch below, but he was +absent less than a couple of minutes. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no one there,” he reported, “and as there is no basement we +will just look at this floor and then examine the grounds.” +</p> + +<p> +After a rapid inspection of the ground-floor rooms, including the +kitchen, we went out by the back door, which was unbolted, and +inspected the grounds. These consisted of a largish garden with a +small orchard at the side. In the former we could discover no traces +of any kind, but at the end of the path that crossed the orchard we +came on a possible clue. The orchard was enclosed by a five-foot +fence, the top of which bristled with hooked nails; and at the point +opposite to the path, Thorndyke’s lantern brought into view one or two +wisps of cloth caught on the hooks. +</p> + +<p> +“Someone has been over here,” said Thorndyke, “but as this is an +orchard, there is nothing remarkable in the fact. However, there is no +fruit on the trees now, and the cloth looks fairly fresh. There are +two kinds, you notice: a dark blue and a black and white mixture of +some kind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Corresponding, probably, to the coat and trousers,” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” he agreed, taking from his pocket a couple of the little +seed-envelopes of which he always carried a supply. Very delicately he +picked the tiny wisps of cloth from the hooks and bestowed each kind +in a separate envelope. Having pocketed these, he leaned over the +fence and threw the light of his lamp along the narrow lane or alley +that divided the orchard from the adjoining premises. It was +ungravelled and covered with a growth of rank grass, which suggested +that it was little frequented. But immediately below was a small patch +of bare earth, and on this was a very distinct impression of a foot, +covering several less distinct prints. +</p> + +<p> +“Several people have been over here at different times,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke agreed. “But that sharp footprint belongs to the last +one over, and he is our concern. We had better not confuse the issues +by getting over ourselves. We will mark the spot and explore from the +other end.” He laid his handkerchief over the top of the fence and we +then went back to the house. +</p> + +<p> +“You are going to take a plaster cast, I suppose?” said I; and as he +assented, I fetched the research-case from the drawing-room. Then we +fixed the catch of the front-door latch and went out, drawing the door +to after us. +</p> + +<p> +We found the entrance to the alley about sixty yards from the gate, +and entering it, walked slowly forwards, scanning the ground as we +went. But the bright lamp-light showed nothing more than the vague +marks of trampling feet on the grass until we came to the spot marked +by the handkerchief on the fence. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a pity,” I remarked, “that this footprint has obliterated the +others.” +</p> + +<p> +“On the other hand,” he replied, “this one, which is the one that +interests us, is remarkably clear and characteristic: a circular heel +and a rubber sole of a recognizable pattern mended with a patch of +cement paste. It is a footprint that could be identified beyond a +doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +As he was speaking, he took from the research-case the water-bottle, +plaster-tin, rubber mixing-bowl and spoon, and a piece of canvas with +which to “reinforce” the cast. Rapidly, he mixed a bowlful—extra +thick, so that it should set quickly and hard—dipped the canvas into +it, poured the remainder into the footprint, and laid the canvas on +it. +</p> + +<p> +“I will get you to stay here, Jervis,” said he, “until the plaster has +set. I want to examine the body rather more thoroughly before the +police arrive, particularly the back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why the back?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Did not the appearance of the body suggest to you the advisability of +examining the back?” he asked, and then, without waiting for a reply, +he went off, leaving the inspection-lamp with me. +</p> + +<p> +His words gave me matter for profound thought during my short vigil. I +recalled the appearance of the dead woman very vividly—indeed, I am +not likely ever to forget it—and I strove to connect that appearance +with his desire to examine the back of the corpse. But there seemed to +be no connexion at all. The visible injuries were in front, and I had +seen nothing to suggest the existence of any others. From time to time +I tested the condition of the plaster, impatient to rejoin my +colleague but fearful of cracking the thin cast by raising it +prematurely. At length the plaster seemed to be hard enough, and +trusting to the strength of the canvas, I prised cautiously at the +edge, when, to my relief, the brittle plate came up safely and I +lifted it clear. Wrapping it carefully in some spare rag, I packed it +in the research-case, and then, taking this and the lantern, made my +way back to the house. +</p> + +<p> +When I had let down the catch and closed the front door, I went into +the drawing-room, where I found Thorndyke stooping over the dark stain +at the threshold and scanning the floor as if in search of something. +I reported the completion of the cast and then asked him what he was +looking for. +</p> + +<p> +“I am looking for a button,” he replied. “There is one missing from +the back; the one to which the collar was fastened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it of any importance?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It is important to ascertain when and where it became detached,” he +replied. “Let us have the inspection-lamp.” +</p> + +<p> +I gave him the lamp, which he placed on the floor, turning it so that +its beam of light travelled along the surface. Stooping to follow the +light, I scrutinized the floor minutely but in vain. +</p> + +<p> +“It may not be here at all,” said I; but at that moment the bright +gleam, penetrating the darkness under a cabinet, struck a small object +close to the wall. In a moment I had thrown myself prone on the +carpet, and reaching under the cabinet, brought forth a largish +mother-of-pearl button. +</p> + +<p> +“You notice,” said Thorndyke, as he examined it, “that the cabinet is +near the window, at the opposite end of the room to the couch. But we +had better see that it is the right button.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked slowly towards the couch, still stooping and searching the +floor with the light. The corpse, I noticed, had been turned on its +side, exposing the back and the displaced collar. Through the strained +button-hole of the latter Thorndyke passed the button without +difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “that is where it came from. You will notice that +there is a similar one in front. By the way,” he continued, bringing +the lamp close to the surface of the grey serge dress, “I picked off +one or two hairs—animal hairs; cat and dog they looked like. Here are +one or two more. Will you hold the lamp while I take them off?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are probably from some pets of hers,” I remarked, as he picked +them off with his forceps and deposited them in one of the invaluable +seed-envelopes. “Spinsters are a good deal addicted to pets, +especially cats and dogs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Possibly,” he replied. “But I could see none in front, where you +would expect to find them, and there seem to be none on the carpet. +Now let us replace the body as we found it and just have a look at our +material before the police arrive. I expected them here before this.” +</p> + +<p> +We turned the body back into its original position, and taking the +research-case and the lamp, went into the dining-room. Here Thorndyke +rapidly set up the little travelling microscope, and bringing forth +the seed-envelopes, began to prepare slides from the contents of some +while I prepared the others. There was time only for a very hasty +examination, which Thorndyke made as soon as the specimens were +mounted. +</p> + +<p> +“The clothing,” he reported, with his eye at the microscope, “is +woollen in both cases. Fairly good quality. The one a blue serge, +apparently indigo dyed; the other a mixture of black and white, no +other colour. Probably a fine tabby or a small shepherd’s plaid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Serge coat and shepherd’s plaid trousers,” I suggested. “Now see what +the hairs are.” I handed him the slide, on which I had roughly mounted +the collection in oil of lavender, and he placed it on the stage. +</p> + +<p> +“There are three different kinds of hairs here,” he reported, after a +rapid inspection. “Some are obviously from a cat—a smoky Persian. +Others are long, rather fine tawny hairs from a dog. Probably a +Pekinese. But there are two that I can’t quite place. They look like +monkey’s hairs, but they are a very unusual colour. There is a +perceptible greenish tint, which is extremely uncommon in mammalian +hairs. But I hear the taxi approaching. We need not be expansive to +the local police as to what we have observed. This will probably be a +case for the C.I.D.” +</p> + +<p> +I went out into the hall and opened the door as Meade came up the +path, followed by two men; and as the latter came into the light, I +was astonished to recognize in one of them our old friend, +Detective-Superintendent Miller, the other being, apparently, the +station superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“We have kept Mr. Meade a long time,” said Miller, “but we knew you +were here, so the time wouldn’t be wasted. Thought it best to get a +full statement before we inspected the premises. How do, doctor,” he +added, shaking hands with Thorndyke. “Glad to see you here. I suppose +you have got all the facts. I understood so from Mr. Meade.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke, “we have all the antecedents of the case, +and we arrived within a few minutes of the death of the deceased.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” exclaimed Miller. “Did you? And I expect you have formed an +opinion on the question as to whether the injuries were +self-inflicted?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said Thorndyke, “that it would be best to act on the +assumption that they were not—and to act promptly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pre—cisely,” Miller agreed emphatically. “You mean that we had +better find out at once where a certain person was at—what time did +you arrive here?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was two minutes to nine when the taxi stopped,” replied Thorndyke; +“and, as it is now only twenty-five minutes to ten, we have good time +if Mr. Meade can spare us the taxi. I have the address.” +</p> + +<p> +“The taxi is waiting for you,” said Mr. Meade, “and the man has been +paid for both journeys. I shall stay here in case the superintendent +wants anything.” He shook our hands warmly, and as we bade him +farewell and noted the dazed, despairing expression and lines of grief +that had already eaten into the face that had been so blithe and +hopeful, we both thought bitterly of the few fatal minutes that had +made us too late to save the wreckage of his life. +</p> + +<p> +We were just turning away when Thorndyke paused and again faced the +clergyman. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me,” he asked, “whether Miss Fawcett had any pets? Cats, +dogs, or other animals?” +</p> + +<p> +Meade looked at him in surprise, and Superintendent Miller seemed to +prick up his ears. But the former answered simply: “No. She was not +very fond of animals; she reserved her affections for men and women.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke nodded gravely, and picking up the research-case walked +slowly out of the room, Miller and I following. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as the address had been given to the driver and we had taken +our seats in the taxi, the superintendent opened the +examination-in-chief. +</p> + +<p> +“I see you have got your box of magic with you, doctor,” he said, +cocking his eye at the research-case. “Any luck?” +</p> + +<p> +“We have secured a very distinctive footprint,” replied Thorndyke, +“but it may have no connexion with the case.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope it has,” said Miller. “A good cast of a footprint which you +can let the jury compare with the boot is first-class evidence.” He +took the cast, which I had produced from the research-case, and +turning it over tenderly and gloatingly, exclaimed: “Beautiful! +beautiful! Absolutely distinctive! There can’t be another exactly like +it in the world. It is as good as a finger-print. For the Lord’s sake +take care of it. It means a conviction if we can find the boot.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent’s efforts to engage Thorndyke in discussion were +not very successful, and the conversational brunt was borne by me. For +we both knew my colleague too well to interrupt him if he was disposed +to be meditative. And such was now his disposition. Looking at him as +he sat in his corner, silent but obviously wrapped in thought, I knew +that he was mentally sorting out the data and testing the hypotheses +that they yielded. +</p> + +<p> +“Here we are,” said Miller, opening the door as the taxi stopped. “Now +what are we going to say? Shall I tell him who I am?” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect you will have to,” replied Thorndyke, “if you want him to +let us in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Miller. “But I shall let you do the talking, because +I don’t know what you have got up your sleeve.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke’s prediction was verified literally. In response to the +third knock, with an obbligato accompaniment on the bell, wrathful +footsteps—I had no idea footsteps could be so expressive—advanced +rapidly along the lobby, the door was wrenched open—but only for a +few inches—and an angry, hairy face appeared in the opening. +</p> + +<p> +“Now then,” the hairy person demanded, “what the deuce do you want?” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you Mr. William Ponting?” the superintendent inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“What the devil is that to do with you?” was the genial answer—in the +Scottish mode. +</p> + +<p> +“We have business,” Miller began persuasively. +</p> + +<p> +“So have I,” the presumable Ponting replied, “and mine won’t wait.” +</p> + +<p> +“But our business is very important,” Miller urged. +</p> + +<p> +“So is mine,” snapped Ponting, and would have shut the door but for +Miller’s obstructing foot, at which he kicked viciously, but with +unsatisfactory results, as he was shod in light slippers, whereas the +superintendent’s boots were of constabulary solidity. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, look here,” said Miller, dropping his conciliatory manner very +completely, “you’d better stop this nonsense. I am a police officer, +and I am going to come in”; and with this he inserted a massive +shoulder and pushed the door open. +</p> + +<p> +“Police officer, are you?” said Ponting. “And what might your business +be with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what I have been waiting to tell you,” said Miller. “But we +don’t want to do our talking here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” growled Ponting. “Come in. But understand that I am busy. +I’ve been interrupted enough this evening.” +</p> + +<p> +He led the way into a rather barely furnished room with a wide +bay-window in which was a table fitted with a writing-slope and +lighted by an electric standard lamp. A litter of manuscript explained +the nature of his business and his unwillingness to receive casual +visitors. He sulkily placed three chairs, and then, seating himself, +glowered at Thorndyke and me. +</p> + +<p> +“Are they police officers, too?” he demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Miller, “they are medical gentlemen. Perhaps you had +better explain the matter, doctor,” he added, addressing Thorndyke, +who thereupon opened the proceedings. +</p> + +<p> +“We have called,” said he, “to inform you that Miss Millicent Fawcett +died suddenly this evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“The devil!” exclaimed Ponting. “That’s sudden with a vengeance. What +time did this happen?” +</p> + +<p> +“About a quarter to nine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Extraordinary!” muttered Ponting. “I saw her only the day before +yesterday, and she seemed quite well then. What did she die of?” +</p> + +<p> +“The appearances,” replied Thorndyke, “suggest suicide.” +</p> + +<p> +“Suicide!” gasped Ponting. “Impossible! I can’t believe it. Do you +mean to tell me she poisoned herself?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Thorndyke, “it was not poison. Death was caused by injuries +to the throat inflicted with a razor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” exclaimed Ponting. “What a horrible thing! But,” he added +after a pause, “I can’t believe she did it herself, and I don’t. Why +should she commit suicide? She was quite happy, and she was just going +to be married to that mealy-faced parson. And a razor, too! How do you +suppose she came by a razor? Women don’t shave. They smoke and drink +and swear, but they haven’t taken to shaving yet. I don’t believe it. +Do you?” +</p> + +<p> +He glared ferociously at the superintendent, who replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I am not sure that I do. There’s a good deal in what you’ve just +said, and the same objections had occurred to us. But, you see, if she +didn’t do it herself, someone else must have done it, and we should +like to find out who that someone is. So we begin by ascertaining +where any possible persons may have been at a quarter to nine this +evening.” +</p> + +<p> +Ponting smiled like an infuriated cat. +</p> + +<p> +“So you think me a possible person, do you?” said he. +</p> + +<p> +“Everyone is a possible person,” Miller replied blandly, “especially +when he is known to have uttered threats.” +</p> + +<p> +The reply sobered Ponting considerably. For a few moments he sat, +looking reflectively at the superintendent; then, in comparatively +quiet tones, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“I have been working here since six o’clock. You can see the stuff for +yourself, and I can prove that it has been written since six.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent nodded, but made no comment, and Ponting gazed at +him fixedly, evidently thinking hard. Suddenly he broke into a harsh +laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the joke?” Miller inquired stolidly. +</p> + +<p> +“The joke is that I have got another alibi—a very complete one. There +are compensations in every evil. I told you I had been interrupted in +my work already this evening. It was those fools next door, the +Barnetts—cousins of mine. They are musicians, save the mark! Variety +stage, you know. Funny songs and jokes for mental defectives. Well, +they practise their infernal ditties in their rooms, and the row comes +into mine, and an accursed nuisance it is. However, they have agreed +not to practise on Thursdays and Fridays—my busy nights—and usually +they don’t. But to-night, just as I was in the thick of my writing, I +suddenly heard the most unholy din; that idiot, Fred Barnett, bawling +one of his imbecile songs—‘When the pigs their wings have folded,’ +and balderdash of that sort—and the other donkey accompanying him on +the clarinet, if you please! I stuck it for a minute or two. Then I +rushed round to their flat and raised Cain with the bell and knocker. +Mrs. Fred opened the door, and I told her what I thought of it. Of +course she was very apologetic, said they had forgotten that it was +Thursday and promised that she would make her husband stop. And I +suppose she did, for by the time I got back to my rooms the row had +ceased. I could have punched the whole lot of them into a jelly, but +it was all for the best as it turns out.” +</p> + +<p> +“What time was it when you went round there?” asked Miller. +</p> + +<p> +“About five minutes past nine,” replied Ponting. “The church bell had +struck nine when the row began.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hm!” grunted Miller, glancing at Thorndyke. “Well, that is all we +wanted to know, so we need not keep you from your work any longer.” +</p> + +<p> +He rose, and being let out with great alacrity, stumped down the +stairs, followed by Thorndyke and me. As we came out into the street, +he turned to us with a deeply disappointed expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he exclaimed, “this is a suck in. I was in hopes that we had +pounced on our quarry before he had got time to clear away the traces. +And now we’ve got it all to do. You can’t get round an alibi of that +sort.” +</p> + +<p> +I glanced at Thorndyke to see how he was taking this unexpected check. +He was evidently puzzled, and I could see by the expression of +concentration in his face that he was trying over the facts and +inferences in new combinations to meet this new position. Probably he +had noticed, as I had, that Ponting was wearing a tweed suit, and that +therefore the shreds of clothing from the fence could not be his +unless he had changed. But the alibi put him definitely out of the +picture, and, as Miller had said, we now had nothing to give us a +lead. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly Thorndyke came out of his reverie and addressed the +superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“We had better put this alibi on the basis of ascertained fact. It +ought to be verified at once. At present we have only Ponting’s +unsupported statement.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t likely that he would risk telling a lie,” Miller replied +gloomily. +</p> + +<p> +“A man who is under suspicion of murder will risk a good deal,” +Thorndyke retorted, “especially if he is guilty. I think we ought to +see Mrs. Barnett before there is any opportunity of collusion.” +</p> + +<p> +“There has been time for collusion already,” said Miller. “Still, you +are quite right, and I see there is a light in their sitting-room, if +that is it, next to Ponting’s. Let us go up and settle the matter now. +I shall leave you to examine the witness and say what you think it +best to say.” +</p> + +<p> +We entered the building and ascended the stairs to the Barnetts’ flat, +where Miller rang the bell and executed a double knock. After a short +interval the door was opened and a woman looked out at us +inquisitively. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you Mrs. Frederick Barnett?” Thorndyke inquired. The woman +admitted her identity in a tone of some surprise, and Thorndyke +explained: “We have called to make a few inquiries concerning your +neighbour, Mr. Ponting, and also about certain matters relating to +your family. I am afraid it is a rather unseasonable hour for a visit, +but as the affair is of some importance and time is an object, I hope +you will overlook that.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Barnett listened to this explanation with a puzzled and rather +suspicious air. After a few moments’ hesitation, she said: +</p> + +<p> +“I think you had better see my husband. If you will wait here a moment +I will go and tell him.” With this, she pushed the door to, without +actually closing it, and we heard her retire along the lobby, +presumably to the sitting-room. For, during the short colloquy, I had +observed a door at the end of the lobby, partly open, through which I +could see the end of a table covered with a red cloth. +</p> + +<p> +The “moment” extended to a full minute, and the superintendent began +to show signs of impatience. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see why you didn’t ask her the simple question straight out,” +he said, and the same question had occurred to me. But at this point +footsteps were heard approaching, the door opened, and a man +confronted us, holding the door open with his left hand, his right +being wrapped in a handkerchief. He looked suspiciously from one to +the other of us, and asked stiffly: +</p> + +<p> +“What is it that you want to know? And would you mind telling me who +you are?” +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Thorndyke,” was the reply. “I am the legal adviser of the +Reverend Charles Meade, and these two gentlemen are interested +parties. I want to know what you can tell me of Mr. Ponting’s recent +movements—to-day, for instance. When did you last see him?” +</p> + +<p> +The man appeared to be about to refuse any conversation, but suddenly +altered his mind, reflected for a few moments, and then replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I saw him from my window at his—they are bay-windows—about +half-past eight. But my wife saw him later than that. If you will come +in she can tell you the time exactly.” He led the way along the lobby +with an obviously puzzled air. But he was not more puzzled than I, or +than Miller, to judge by the bewildered glance that the superintendent +cast at me, as he followed our host along the lobby. I was still +meditating on Thorndyke’s curiously indirect methods when the +sitting-room door was opened; and then I got a minor surprise of +another kind. When I had last looked into the room, the table had been +covered by a red cloth. It was now bare; and when we entered the room +I saw that the red cover had been thrown over a side table, on which +was some bulky and angular object. Apparently it had been thought +desirable to conceal that object, whatever it was, and as we took our +seats beside the bare table, my mind was busy with conjectures as to +what that object could be. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Barnett repeated Thorndyke’s question to his wife, adding: “I +think it must have been a little after nine when Ponting came round. +What do you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she replied, “it would be, for I heard it strike nine just +before you began your practice, and he came a few minutes after.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” Barnett explained, “I am a singer, and my brother, here, +accompanies me on various instruments, and of course we have to +practise. But we don’t practise on the nights when Ponting is +busy—Thursdays and Fridays—as he said that the music disturbed him. +To-night, however, we made a little mistake. I happen to have got a +new song that I am anxious to get ready—it has an illustrative +accompaniment on the clarinet, which my brother will play. We were so +much taken up with the new song that we all forgot what day of the +week it was, and started to have a good practise. But before we had +got through the first verse, Ponting came round, battering at the door +like a madman. My wife went out and pacified him, and of course we +shut down for the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +While Mr. Barnett was giving his explanation, I looked about the room +with vague curiosity. Somehow—I cannot tell exactly how—I was +sensible of something queer in the atmosphere of this place; of a +certain indefinite sense of tension. Mrs. Barnett looked pale and +flurried. Her husband, in spite of his volubility, seemed ill at ease, +and the brother, who sat huddled in an easy-chair, nursing a +dark-coloured Persian cat, stared into the fire, and neither moved nor +spoke. And again I looked at the red table-cloth and wondered what it +covered. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” said Barnett, after a brief pause, “what is the point of +these inquiries of yours? About Ponting, I mean. What does it matter +to you where he was this evening?” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, he produced a pipe and tobacco-pouch and proceeded to +fill the former, holding it in his bandaged right hand and filling it +with his left. The facility with which he did this suggested that he +was left-handed, an inference that was confirmed by the ease with +which he struck the match with his left hand, and by the fact that he +wore a wrist-watch on his right wrist. +</p> + +<p> +“Your question is a perfectly natural one,” said Thorndyke. “The +answer to it is that a very terrible thing has happened. Miss +Millicent Fawcett, who is, I think, a connexion of yours, met her +death this evening under circumstances of grave suspicion. She died, +either by her own hand or by the hand of a murderer, a few minutes +before nine o’clock. Hence it has become necessary to ascertain the +whereabouts at that time of any persons on whom suspicion might +reasonably fall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” exclaimed Barnett. “What a shocking thing!” +</p> + +<p> +The exclamation was followed by a deep silence, amidst which I could +hear the barking of a dog in an adjacent room, the unmistakable sharp, +treble yelp of a Pekinese. And again I seemed to be aware of a strange +sense of tension in the occupants of this room. On hearing Thorndyke’s +answer, Mrs. Barnett had turned deadly pale and let her head fall +forward on her hand. Her husband had sunk on to a chair, and he, too, +looked pale and deeply shocked, while the brother continued to stare +silently into the fire. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment Thorndyke astonished me by an exhibition of what +seemed—under the tragic circumstances—the most outrageous bad +manners and bad taste. Rising from his chair with his eyes fixed on a +print which hung on the wall above the red-covered table, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“That looks like one of Cameron’s etchings,” and forthwith stepped +across the room to examine it, resting his hand, as he leaned forward, +on the object covered by the cloth. +</p> + +<p> +“Mind where you are putting your hand, sir!” Fred Barnett called out, +springing to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked down at his hand, and deliberately raising a corner +of the cloth, looked under. “There is no harm done,” he remarked +quietly, letting the cloth drop; and with another glance at the print, +he went back to his chair. +</p> + +<p> +Once more a deep silence fell upon the room, and I had a vague feeling +that the tension had increased. Mrs. Barnett was as white as a ghost +and seemed to catch at her breath. Her husband watched her with a +wild, angry expression and smoked furiously, while the +superintendent—also conscious of something abnormal in the atmosphere +of the room—looked furtively from the woman to the man and from him +to Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +Yet again in the silence the shrill barking of the Pekinese dog broke +out, and somehow that sound connected itself in my mind with the +Persian cat that dozed on the knees of the immovable man by the fire. +I looked at the cat and at the man, and even as I looked, I was +startled by a most extraordinary apparition. Above the man’s shoulder, +slowly rose a little round head like the head of a diminutive, +greenish-brown man. Higher and higher the tiny monkey raised itself, +resting on its little hands to peer at the strangers. Then, with +sudden coyness, like a shy baby, it popped down out of sight. +</p> + +<p> +I was thunderstruck. The cat and the dog I had noted merely as a +curious coincidence. But the monkey—and such an unusual monkey, +too—put coincidences out of the question. I stared at the man in +positive stupefaction. Somehow that man was connected with that +unforgettable figure lying upon the couch miles away. But how? When +that deed of horror was doing, he had been here in this very room. +Yet, in some way, he had been concerned in it. And suddenly a +suspicion dawned upon me that Thorndyke was waiting for the actual +perpetrator to arrive. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a most ghastly affair,” Barnett repeated presently in a husky +voice. Then, after a pause, he asked: “Is there any sort of evidence +as to whether she killed herself or was killed by somebody else?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think that my friend, here, Detective-Superintendent Miller, has +decided that she was murdered.” He looked at the bewildered +superintendent, who replied with an inarticulate grunt. +</p> + +<p> +“And is there any clue as to who the—the murderer may be? You spoke +of suspected persons just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke, “there is an excellent clue, if it can only +be followed up. We found a most unmistakable footprint; and what is +more, we took a plaster cast of it. Would you like to see the cast?” +</p> + +<p> +Without waiting for a reply, he opened the research-case and took out +the cast, which he placed in my hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Just take it round and show it to them,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent had witnessed Thorndyke’s amazing proceedings with +an astonishment that left him speechless. But now he sprang to his +feet, and, as I walked round the table, he pressed beside me to guard +the precious cast from possible injury. I laid it carefully down on +the table, and as the light fell on it obliquely, it presented a most +striking appearance—that of a snow-white boot-sole on which the +unshapely patch, the circular heel, and the marks of wear were clearly +visible. +</p> + +<p> +The three spectators gathered round, as near as the superintendent +would let them approach, and I observed them closely, assuming that +this incomprehensible move of Thorndyke’s was a device to catch one or +more of them off their guard. Fred Barnett looked at the cast stolidly +enough, though his face had gone several shades paler, but Mrs. +Barnett stared at it with starting eye-balls and dropped jaw—the very +picture of horror and dismay. As to James Barnett, whom I now saw +clearly for the first time, he stood behind the woman with a +singularly scared and haggard face, and his eyes riveted on the white +boot-sole. And now I could see that he wore a suit of blue serge and +that the front both of his coat and waistcoat were thickly covered +with the shed hairs of his pets. +</p> + +<p> +There was something very uncanny about this group of persons gathered +around that accusing footprint, all as still and rigid as statues and +none uttering a sound. But something still more uncanny followed. +Suddenly the deep silence of the room was shattered by the shrill +notes of a clarinet, and a brassy voice burst forth: +</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“<i>When the pigs their wings have folded</i></span><br> +<span class="i0"><i>And the cows are in their nest——</i>”</span> +</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p> +We all spun round in amazement, and at the first glance the mystery of +the crime was solved. There stood Thorndyke with the red table-cover +at his feet, and at his side, on the small table, a +massively-constructed phonograph of the kind used in offices for +dictating letters, but fitted with a convoluted metal horn in place of +the rubber ear-tubes. +</p> + +<p> +A moment of astonished silence was succeeded by a wild confusion. Mrs. +Barnett uttered a piercing shriek and fell back on to a chair, her +husband broke away and rushed at Thorndyke, who instantly gripped his +wrist and pinioned him, while the superintendent, taking in the +situation at a glance, fastened on the unresisting James and forced +him down into a chair. I ran round, and having stopped the +machine—for the preposterous song was hideously incongruous with the +tragedy that was enacting—went to Thorndyke’s assistance and helped +him to remove his prisoner from the neighbourhood of the instrument. +</p> + +<p> +“Superintendent Miller,” said Thorndyke, still maintaining a hold on +his squirming captive, “I believe you are a justice of the peace?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply, “ex officio.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Thorndyke, “I accuse these three persons of being +concerned in the murder of Miss Millicent Fawcett; Frederick Barnett +as the principal who actually committed the murder, James Barnett as +having aided him by holding the arms of the deceased, and Mrs. Barnett +as an accessory before the fact in that she worked this phonograph for +the purpose of establishing a false alibi.” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew nothing about it!” Mrs. Barnett shrieked hysterically. “They +never told me why they wanted me to work the thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“We can’t go into that now,” said Miller. “You will be able to make +your defence at the proper time and place. Can one of you go for +assistance or must I blow my whistle?” +</p> + +<p> +“You had better go, Jervis,” said Thorndyke. “I can hold this man +until reinforcements arrive. Send a constable up and then go on to the +station. And leave the outer door ajar.” +</p> + +<p> +I followed these directions, and having found the police station, +presently returned to the flat with four constables and a sergeant in +two taxis. +</p> + +<p> +When the prisoners had been removed, together with the three +animals—the latter in charge of a zoophilist constable—we searched +the bedrooms. Frederick Barnett had changed his clothing completely, +but in a locked drawer—the lock of which Thorndyke picked neatly, to +the superintendent’s undisguised admiration—we found the discarded +garments, including a pair of torn shepherd’s plaid trousers, covered +with blood-stains, and a new, empty razor-case. These things, together +with the wax cylinder of the phonograph, Miller made up into a neat +parcel and took away with him. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“Of course,” said I, as we walked homewards, “the general drift of +this case is quite obvious. But it seemed to me that you went to the +Barnetts’ flat with a definite purpose already formed, and with a +definite suspicion in your mind. Now, I don’t see how you came to +suspect the Barnetts.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you will,” he replied, “if you will recall the incidents in +their order from the beginning, including poor Meade’s preliminary +statement. To begin with the appearances of the body: the suggestion +of suicide was transparently false. To say nothing of its incongruity +with the character and circumstances of the deceased and the very +unlikely weapon used, there were the gashed collar and the cut +cap-string. As you know, it is a well-established rule that suicides +do not damage their clothing. A man who cuts his own throat doesn’t +cut his collar. He takes it off. He removes all obstructions. +Naturally, for he wishes to complete the act as easily and quickly as +possible, and he has time for preparation. But the murderer must take +things as he finds them and execute his purpose as best he can. +</p> + +<p> +“But further; the wounds were inflicted near the door, but the body +was on the couch at the other end of the room. We saw, from the +absence of bleeding, that she was dying—in fact, apparently +dead—when she lay down. She must therefore have been carried to the +couch after the wounds were inflicted. +</p> + +<p> +“Then there were the blood-stains. They were all in front, and the +blood had run down vertically. Then she must have been standing +upright while the blood was flowing. Now there were four wounds, and +the first one was mortal. It divided the common carotid artery and the +great veins. On receiving that wound she would ordinarily have fallen +down. But she did not fall, or there would have been a blood-stain +across the neck. Why did she not fall? The obvious suggestion was that +someone was holding her up. This suggestion was confirmed by the +absence of cuts on her hands—which would certainly have been cut if +someone had not been holding them. It was further confirmed by the +rough crumpling of the collar at the back: so rough that the button +was torn off. And we found that button near the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Further, there were the animal hairs. They were on the back only. +There were none on the front—where they would have been if derived +from the animals—or anywhere else. And we learned that she kept no +animals. All these appearances pointed to the presence of two persons, +one of whom stood behind her and held her arms while the other stood +in front and committed the murder. The cloth on the fence supported +this view, being probably derived from two different pairs of +trousers. The character of the wounds made it nearly certain that the +murderer was left-handed. +</p> + +<p> +“While we were returning in the cab, I reflected on these facts and +considered the case generally. First, what was the motive? There was +nothing to suggest robbery, nor was it in the least like a robber’s +crime. What other motive could there be? Well, here was a +comparatively rich woman who had made a will in favour of certain +persons, and she was going to be married. On her marriage the will +would automatically become void, and she was not likely to make +another will so favourable to those persons. Here, then, was a +possible motive, and that motive applied to Ponting, who had actually +uttered threats and was obviously suspect. +</p> + +<p> +“But, apart from those threats, Ponting was not the principal suspect, +for he benefited only slightly under the will. The chief beneficiaries +were the Barnetts, and Miss Fawcett’s death would benefit them, not +only by securing the validity of the will, but by setting the will +into immediate operation. And there were two of them. They therefore +fitted the circumstances better than Ponting did. And when we came to +interview Ponting, he went straight out of the picture. His manuscript +would probably have cleared him—with his editor’s confirmation. But +the other alibi was conclusive. +</p> + +<p> +“What instantly struck me, however, was that Ponting’s alibi was also +an alibi for the Barnetts. But there was this difference: Ponting had +been seen; the Barnetts had only been heard. Now, it has often +occurred to me that a very effective false alibi could be worked with +a gramophone or a phonograph—especially with one on which one can +make one’s own records. This idea now recurred to me; and at once it +was supported by the appearance of an arranged effect. Ponting was +known to be at work. It was practically certain that a blast of +‘music’ would bring him out. Then he would be available, if necessary, +as a witness to prove an alibi. It seemed to be worth while to +investigate. +</p> + +<p> +“When we came to the flat we encountered a man with an injured +hand—the right. It would have been more striking if it had been his +left. But it presently turns out that he is left-handed; which is +still more striking as a coincidence. This man is extraordinarily +ready to answer questions which most persons would have refused to +answer at all. Those answers contain the alibi. +</p> + +<p> +“Then there was the incident of the table-cover—I think you noticed +it. That cover was on the large table when we arrived, but it was +taken off and thrown over something, evidently to conceal it. But I +need not pursue the details. When I had seen the cat, heard the dog, +and then seen the monkey, I determined to see what was under the +table-cover; and finding that it was a phonograph with the cylinder +record still on the drum, I decided to ‘go Nap’ and chance making a +mistake. For until we had tried the record, the alibi remained. If it +had failed, I should have advised Miller to hold a boot parade. +Fortunately we struck the right record and completed the case.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +Mrs. Barnett’s defence was accepted by the magistrate and the charge +against her was dismissed. The other two were committed for trial, and +in due course paid the extreme penalty. “Yet another illustration,” +was Thorndyke’s comment, “of the folly of that kind of criminal who +won’t let well alone, and who will create false clues. If the Barnetts +had not laid down those false tracks, they would probably never have +been suspected. It was their clever alibi that led us straight to +their door.” +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch06"> +VI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">PANDORA’S BOX</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">I see</span> our friend, S. Chapman, is still a defaulter,” said I, as I +ran my eye over the “personal” column of <i>The Times</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked up interrogatively. +</p> + +<p> +“Chapman?” he repeated; “let me see, who is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“The man with the box. I read you the advertisement the other day. +Here it is again. ‘If the box left in the luggage-room by S. Chapman +is not claimed within a week from this date, it will be sold to defray +expenses.—Alexander Butt, “Red Lion” Hotel, Stoke Varley, Kent.’ That +sounds like an ultimatum; but it has been appearing at intervals for +the last month. As the first notice expired about three weeks ago, the +question is, why doesn’t Mr. Butt sell the box and have done with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“He may have some qualms as to the legality of the proceeding,” said +Thorndyke. “It would be interesting to know what expenses he refers to +and what is the value of the box.” +</p> + +<p> +The latter question was resolved a day or two later by the appearance +in our chambers of an agitated gentleman, who gave his name as George +Chapman. After apologizing for his unannounced visit he explained: +</p> + +<p> +“I have come to you on the advice of my solicitor and on behalf of my +brother, Samuel, who has become involved in a most extraordinary and +horrible set of complications. At present he is in custody of the +police charged with an atrocious murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is certainly a rather serious complication,” Thorndyke observed +dryly. “Perhaps you had better give us an account of the +circumstances—the whole set of circumstances, from the beginning.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will,” said Mr. Chapman, “without any reservations. The only +question is, which is the beginning? There are the business and the +domestic affairs. Perhaps I had better begin with the business +concerns. My brother was a sort of travelling agent for a firm of +manufacturing jewellers. He held a stock of the goods, which he used +as samples for large orders, but in the case of small retailers he +actually supplied the goods himself. When travelling, he usually +carried his stock in a small Gladstone bag, but he kept the bulk of it +in a safe in his house, and he used to go home at week-ends, or +oftener, to replenish his travelling stock. Now, about two months ago +he left home on a trip, but instead of taking a selection of his +goods, he took the entire stock in a largish wooden box, leaving the +safe empty. What he meant to do I don’t know, and that’s the fact. I +offer no opinion. The circumstances were peculiar, as you will hear +presently, and his proceedings were peculiar; for he went down to +Stoke Varley—a village not far from Folkestone—put up at the ‘Red +Lion,’ and deposited his box in the luggage-room that is kept for the +use of commercial travellers; and then, after staying there for a few +days, came up to London to make some arrangements for selling or +letting his house—which, it seems, he had decided to leave. He came +up in the evening, and the very next morning the first of his +adventures befell, and a very alarming one it was. +</p> + +<p> +“It appears that, as he was walking down a quiet street, he saw a +lady’s purse lying on the pavement. Naturally he picked it up, and as +it contained nothing to show the name or address of the owner, he put +it in his pocket, intending to hand it in at a police station. Shortly +after this, he got into an omnibus, and a well-dressed woman entered +at the same time and sat down next to him. Just as the conductor was +coming in to collect the fares, the woman began to search her pocket +excitedly, and then, turning to my brother, called on him loudly to +return her purse. Of course, he said that he knew nothing about her +purse, whereupon she roundly accused him of having picked her pocket, +declaring to the conductor that she had felt him take out her purse, +and demanding that the omnibus should be stopped and a policeman +fetched. At this moment a policeman was seen on the pavement. The +conductor stopped the omnibus and hailed the constable, who came, and +having examined the floor of the vehicle without finding the missing +purse, and taken the conductor’s name and number, took my brother into +custody and conducted him and the woman to the police station. Here +the inspector took down from the woman a description of the stolen +purse and its contents, which my brother, to his utter dismay, +recognized as that of the purse which he had picked up and which was +still in his pocket. Immediately, he gave the inspector an account of +the incident and produced the purse; but it is hardly necessary to say +that the inspector refused to take his explanation seriously. +</p> + +<p> +“Then my brother did a thing which was natural enough, but which did +not help him. Seeing that he was practically certain to be +convicted—for there was really no answer to the charge—he gave a +false name and refused his address. He was then locked up in a cell +for the night, and the next morning was brought before the magistrate, +who, having heard the evidence of the woman and the inspector and +having listened without comment to my brother’s story, committed him +for trial at the Central Criminal Court, and refused bail. He was then +removed to Brixton, where he was detained for nearly a month, pending +the opening of the sessions. +</p> + +<p> +“At length the day of his trial drew near. But it was then found that +the woman who had accused him had left her lodgings and could not be +traced. As there was no one to prosecute, and as the disappearance of +the woman put a rather new light upon my brother’s story, the case +against him was allowed to drop, and he was released. +</p> + +<p> +“He went home by train, and at the station he bought a copy of <i>The +Times</i> to read on the way. Before opening it he chanced to run his eye +over the ‘personal’ column, and there his attention was arrested by +his own name in an advertisement——” +</p> + +<p> +“Relating to a box?” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely. Then you have seen it. Well, considering the value of the +contents of that box, he was naturally rather anxious. At once he sent +off a telegram saying that he would call on the following day before +noon to claim the box and pay what was owing. And he did so. Yesterday +morning he took an early train down to Stoke Varley and went straight +to the ‘Red Lion.’ On his arrival he was asked to step into the +coffee-room, which he did; and there he found three police officers, +who forthwith arrested him on a charge of murder. But before going +into the particulars of that charge, I had better give you an account +of his domestic affairs, on which this incredible and horrible +accusation turns. +</p> + +<p> +“My brother, I am sorry to say, was living with a woman who was not +his wife. He had originally intended to marry her, but his association +with her—which lasted over several years—did not encourage that +intention. She was a terrible woman, and she led him a terrible life. +Her temper was ungovernable; and when she had taken too much to +drink—which was a pretty frequent occurrence—she was not only noisy +and quarrelsome, but physically violent as well. Her antecedents were +disreputable—she had been connected with the seamy side of the +music-hall stage; her associations were disreputable; she brought +questionable women to my brother’s house; she consorted with men of +doubtful character, and her relations with them were equally doubtful. +Indeed, with one of them, a man named Gamble, I should say that her +relations were not doubtful at all, though I understand he was a +married man. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my brother put up with her for years, living a life that cut +him off from all decent society. But at last his patience gave way +(and I may add that he made the acquaintance of a very desirable lady, +who was willing to condone his past and marry him if he could secure a +possible future). After a particularly outrageous scene, he ordered +the woman—Rebecca Mings was her name—out of the house and declared +their relationship at an end. +</p> + +<p> +“But she refused to be shaken off. She kept possession of the +street-door key, and she returned again and again, and made a public +scandal. The last time she created such an uproar when the door was +bolted against her that a crowd collected in the street and my brother +was forced to let her in. She stayed with him some hours, alone in the +house—for the only servant he had was a ‘daily girl’ who left at +three o’clock—and went away quite quietly about ten at night. But, +although a good many people saw her go into the house, no one but my +brother seems to have seen her leave it; a most disastrous +circumstance, for, from the moment when she left the house, no one +ever saw her again. She did not go to her lodgings that night. She +disappeared utterly—until—but I must go back now to the ‘Red Lion’ +at Stoke Varley. +</p> + +<p> +“When my brother was arrested on the charge of having murdered Rebecca +Mings, certain particulars were given to him; and when I went down +there in response to a telegram, I gathered some more. The +circumstances are these: About a fortnight after my brother had left +to come to London, some of the ‘commercials’ who used the luggage-room +complained of an unpleasant odour in it, which was presently traced to +my brother’s box. As that box appeared to have been abandoned, the +landlord became suspicious, and communicated with the police. They +telephoned to the London police, who found my brother’s house shut up +and his whereabouts unknown. Thereupon the local police broke open the +box and found in it a woman’s left arm and a quantity of blood-stained +clothing. On which they caused the advertisement to be put in <i>The +Times</i>, and meanwhile they made certain inquiries. It appeared that my +brother had spent part of his time at Stoke Varley fishing in the +little river. On learning this, the police proceeded to dredge the +river, and presently they brought up a right arm—apparently the +fellow of the one found in the box—and a leg divided into three +parts, evidently a woman’s. Now, as to the arm found in the box, there +could be no question about its identity, for it bore a very distinct +tattooed inscription consisting of the initials R.M. above a heart +transfixed by an arrow, with the initials J.B. underneath. A few +inquiries elicited the fact that the woman, Rebecca Mings, who had +disappeared, bore such a tattooed mark on her left arm; and certain +persons who had known her, having been sworn to secrecy, were shown +the arm, and recognized the mark without hesitation. Further inquiries +showed that Rebecca Mings was last seen alive entering my brother’s +house, as I have described; and on this information, the police broke +into the house and searched it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know if they found anything?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t,” replied Chapman, “but I infer that they did. The police at +Stoke Varley were very courteous and kind, but they declined to give +any particulars about the visit to the house. However, we shall hear +at the inquest if they made any discoveries.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is that all that you have to tell us?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply, “and enough, too. I make no comment on my +brother’s story, and I won’t ask whether you believe it. I don’t +expect you to. The question is whether you would undertake the +defence. I suppose it isn’t necessary for a lawyer to be convinced of +his client’s innocence in order to convince the jury.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are thinking of an advocate,” said Thorndyke. “I am not an +advocate, and I should not defend a man whom I believed to be guilty. +The most that I can do is to investigate the case. If the result of +the investigation is to confirm the suspicions against your brother, I +shall go no farther in the case. You will have to get an ordinary +criminal barrister to defend your brother. If, on the other hand, I +find reasonable grounds for believing him innocent, I will undertake +the defence. What do you say to that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve no choice,” replied Chapman; “and I suppose, if you find all the +evidence against him, the defence won’t matter much.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid that is so,” said Thorndyke. “And now there are one or +two questions to be cleared up. First, does your brother offer any +explanation of the presence of these remains in his box?” +</p> + +<p> +“He supposes that somebody at the ‘Red Lion’ must have taken the +jewellery out and put the remains in. Anyone could get access to the +luggage-room by asking for the key at the office.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “that is conceivable. Then, as to the person +who might have made this exchange. Is there anyone who had any reason +for wishing to make away with deceased?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Chapman. “Plenty of people disliked her, but no one but +my brother had any motive for getting rid of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“You spoke of a man with whom she was on somewhat intimate terms. +There had been no quarrel or breach there, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“The man, Gamble, you mean. No, I should say they were the best of +friends. Besides, Gamble had no responsibilities in regard to her. He +could have dropped her whenever he was tired of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know anything about him?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Very little. He has been a rolling stone, and has been in all sorts +of jobs, I believe. He was in the New Zealand trade for some time and +dealt in all sorts of things—among others, in smoked human heads; +sold them to collectors and museums, I understand. So he would have +had some previous experience,” Chapman added with a faint grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Not in dismemberment,” said Thorndyke. “Those will have been ancient +Maori heads—relics of the old head hunters. There are some in the +Hunterian Museum. But, as you say, there seems to be no motive in +Gamble’s case, even if there had been the opportunity; whereas, in +your brother’s case, there seems to have been both the motive and the +opportunity. I suppose your brother never threatened the deceased?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to say he did,” replied Chapman. “On several occasions, +and before witnesses, too, he threatened to put her out of the way. Of +course he never meant it—he was really the mildest of men. But it was +a foolish thing to do and most unfortunate, as things have turned +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “I will look into the matter and let you know +what I think of it. It is unnecessary to remark that appearances are +not very encouraging.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I can see that,” said Chapman, rising and producing his +card-case. “But we must hope for the best.” He laid his card on the +table, and having shaken hands with us gloomily, took his departure. +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t do to take things at their face value,” I remarked, when +he had gone; “but I don’t think we have ever had a more +hopeless-looking case. All it wants to complete it is the discovery of +remains in Chapman’s house.” +</p> + +<p> +“In that respect,” said Thorndyke, “it may already be complete. But it +hardly wants that finishing touch. On the evidence that we have, any +jury would find a verdict of ‘guilty’ without leaving the box. The +only question for us is whether the face value of the evidence is its +real value. If it is, the defence will be a mere formality.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” said I, “you will begin the investigation at Stoke +Varley?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied. “We begin by checking the alleged facts. If they +are really as stated, we shall probably need to go no farther. And we +had better lose no time, as the remains may be moved into the +jurisdiction of a London coroner, and we ought to see everything <i>in +situ</i> as far as possible. I suggest that we postpone the rest of +to-day’s business and start at once, taking Scotland Yard on the way +to get authority to inspect the remains and the premises.” +</p> + +<p> +In a few minutes we were ready for the expedition. While Thorndyke +packed the “research-case” with the necessary instruments, I gave +instructions to our laboratory assistant, Polton, as to what was to be +done in our absence, and then, when we had consulted the time-table, +we set forth by way of the Embankment. +</p> + +<p> +At Scotland Yard, on inquiring for our friend, Superintendent Miller, +we received the slightly unwelcome news that he was at Stoke Varley, +inquiring into the case. However, the authorization was given readily +enough, and, armed with this, we made our way to Charing Cross +Station, arriving there in good time to catch our train. +</p> + +<p> +We had just given up our tickets and turned out into the pleasant +station approach of Stoke Varley when Thorndyke gave a soft chuckle. I +looked at him inquiringly, and he explained: “Miller has had a +telegram, and we are going to have facilities, with a little +supervision.” Following the direction of his glance, I now observed +the superintendent strolling towards us, trying to look surprised, but +achieving only a somewhat sheepish grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m sure, gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “This is an unexpected +pleasure. You don’t mean to say you are engaged in this treasure-trove +case?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’ll tell you why not,” replied Miller. “Because it’s no go. +You’ll only waste your time and injure your reputation. I may as well +let you know, in confidence, that we’ve been through Chapman’s house +in London. It wasn’t very necessary; but still, if there was a vacancy +in his coffin for one or two more nails, we’ve knocked them in.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you find in his house?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“We found,” replied Miller, “in a cupboard in his bedroom, a +good-sized bottle of hyoscine tablets, about two-thirds +full—one-third missing. No great harm in that; he might have taken +’em himself. But when we went down into the cellar, we noticed that +the place smelt—well, a bit graveyardy, so to speak. So we had a look +round. It was a stone-floored cellar, not very even, but so far as we +could see, none of the flagstones seemed to have been disturbed. We +didn’t want the job of digging the whole of them up, so I just filled +a bucket with water and poured it over the floor. Then I watched. +</p> + +<p> +“In less than a minute one big flagstone near the middle went nearly +dry, while the water still stood on all the others. ‘What O!’ says I. +‘Loose earth underneath here.’ So we got a crow-bar and prised up that +big flag; and sure enough, underneath it we found a good-sized bundle +done up in a sheet. I won’t go into unpleasant particulars—not that +it would upset you, I suppose—but that bundle contained human +remains.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any bones?” inquired Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“No. Mostly in’ards and some skin from the front of the body. We +handed them over to the Home Office experts, and they examined them +and made an analysis. Their report states that the remains are those +of a woman of about thirty-five—that was about Mings’ age—and that +the various organs contained a large quantity of hyoscine; more than +enough to have caused death. So there you are. If you are going to +conduct the defence, you won’t get much glory from it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is very good of you, Miller,” said Thorndyke, “to have given us +this private information. It is very helpful, though I have not +undertaken the defence. I have merely come down to check the facts and +see if there is any material for a defence. And I shall go through the +routine, as I am here. Where are the remains?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the mortuary. I’ll show you the way, and as I happen to have the +key in my pocket, I can let you in.” +</p> + +<p> +We passed through the outskirts of the village—gathering a small +train of stealthy followers, who dogged us to the door of the mortuary +and hungrily watched us as the superintendent let us in and locked the +door after us. +</p> + +<p> +“There you are,” said Miller, indicating the slate table on which the +remains lay, covered by a sheet soaked in an antiseptic. “I’ve seen +all I want to see.” And he retired into a corner and lit his pipe. +</p> + +<p> +The remnants of mortality, disclosed by the removal of the sheet, were +dreadfully suggestive of crime in its most brutal and horrible form, +but they offered little information. The dismemberment had been +manifestly rude and unskilful, and the remains were clearly those of a +woman of medium size and apparently in the prime of life. The +principal interest centred in the left arm, the waxen skin of which +bore a very distinct tattoo-mark, consisting of the initials R.M. over +a very symmetrical heart, transfixed by an arrow, beneath which were +the initials J.B. The letters were Roman capitals about half an inch +high, well-formed and finished with serifs, and the heart and arrow +quite well drawn. I looked reflectively at the device, standing out in +dull blue from its ivory-like background, and speculated vaguely as to +whom J.B. might have been and how many predecessors and successors he +had had. And then my interest waned, and I joined the superintendent +in the corner. It was a sordid case, and a conviction being a foregone +conclusion, it did not seem to call for further attention. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke, however, seemed to think otherwise. But that was his way. +When he was engaged in an investigation he put out of his mind +everything that he had been told and began from the very beginning. +That was what he was doing now. He was inspecting these remains as if +they had been the remains of some unidentified person. He made, and +noted down, minute measurements of the limbs; he closely examined +every square inch of surface; he scrutinized each finger separately, +and then with the aid of his portable inking-plate and roller, took a +complete set of finger-prints. He measured all the dimensions of the +tattoo-marks with a delicate calliper-gauge, and then examined the +marks themselves, first with a common lens and then with the +high-power Coddington. The principles that he laid down in his +lectures at the hospital were: “Accept no statement without +verification; observe every fact independently for yourselves; and +keep an open mind.” And, certainly, no one ever carried out more +conscientiously his own precepts. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know, Dr. Jervis,” the superintendent whispered to me as +Thorndyke brought his Coddington to bear on the tattoo-marks, “I +believe this lens business is becoming a habit with the doctor. It’s +my firm conviction that if somebody were to blow up the Houses of +Parliament, he’d go and examine the ruins through a magnifying glass. +Just look at him poring over those tattooed letters that you could +read plainly twenty feet away!” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, Thorndyke, unconscious of these criticisms, placidly +continued his inspection. From the table, with its gruesome burden, he +transferred his attention to the box, which had been placed on a bench +by the window, examining it minutely inside and out; feeling with his +fingers the dark grey paint with which it was coated and the +white-painted initials, “S.C.,” on the lid, which he also measured +carefully. He even copied into his note-book the maker’s name, which +was stamped on a small brass label affixed to the inside of the lid, +and the name of the lock-maker, and inspected the screws which had +drawn from the wood when it was forced open. At length he put away his +note-book, closed the research-case and announced that he had +finished, adding the inquiry: “How do you get to the ‘Red Lion’ from +here?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s only a few minutes’ walk,” said Miller. “I’ll show you the way. +But you’re wasting your time, doctor, you are indeed. You see,” he +continued, when he had locked up the mortuary and pocketed the key, +“that suggestion of Chapman’s is ridiculous on the face of it. Just +imagine a man bringing a portmanteau full of human remains into the +luggage-room of a commercial hotel, opening it and opening another +man’s box, and swapping the contents of the one for the other with the +chance of one of the commercials coming in at any moment. Supposing +one of ’em had, what would he have had to say? ‘Hallo!’ says the +baggy, ‘you seem to have got somebody’s arm in your box.’ ‘So I have,’ +says Chapman. ‘I expect it’s my wife’s. Careless woman! must have +dropped it in when she was packing the box.’ Bah! It’s a fool’s +explanation. Besides, how could he have got Chapman’s box open? We +couldn’t. It was a first-class lock. We had to break it open, but it +hadn’t been broken open before. No, sir, that cat won’t jump. Still, +you needn’t take my word for it. Here is the place, and here is Mr. +Butt, himself, standing at his own front door looking as pleasant as +the flowers in May, like the lump of sugar that you put in a fly-trap +to induce ’em to walk in.” +</p> + +<p> +The landlord, who had overheard—without difficulty—the concluding +passage of Miller’s peroration, smiled genially; and when the purpose +of the visit had been explained, suggested a “modest quencher” in the +private parlour as an aid to conversation. +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted,” said Thorndyke, waiving the suggestion of the “quencher,” +“to ascertain whether Chapman’s theory of an exchange of contents +could be seriously entertained.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” said the landlord, “the fact is that it couldn’t. That +room is a public room, and people may be popping in there at any time +all day. We don’t usually keep it locked. It isn’t necessary. We know +most of our customers, and the contents of the packages that are +stowed in the room are principally travellers’ samples of no +considerable value. The thing would have been impossible in the +daytime, and we lock the room up at night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you had any strangers staying with you in the interval between +Chapman’s going away and the discovery of the remains?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. There was a Mr. Doler; he had two cabin trunks and a uniform +case which went to the luggage-room. And then there was a lady, Mrs. +Murchison. She had a lot of stuff in there: a small, flat trunk, a +hat-box, and a big dress-basket—one of these great basket +pantechnicons that ladies take about with them. And there was another +gentleman—I forget his name, but you will see it in the visitors’ +book—he had a couple of largish portmanteaux in there. Perhaps you +would like to see the book?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should,” said Thorndyke; and when the book was produced and the +names of the guests pointed out, he copied the entries into his +note-book, adding the particulars of their luggage. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, sir,” said Miller, “I suppose you won’t be happy until +you’ve seen the room itself?” +</p> + +<p> +“Your insight is really remarkable, superintendent,” my colleague +replied. “Yes, I should like to see the room.” +</p> + +<p> +There was little enough to see, however, when we arrived there. The +key was in the door, and the latter was not only unlocked but stood +ajar; and when we pushed it open and entered we saw a small room, +empty save for a collection of portmanteaux, trunks, and Gladstone +bags. The only noteworthy fact was that it was at the end of a +corridor, covered with linoleum, so that anyone inside would have a +few seconds’ notice of another person’s approach. But evidently that +would have been of little use in the alleged circumstances. For the +hypothetical criminal must have emptied Chapman’s box of the jewellery +before he could put the incriminating objects into it; so that, apart +from the latter, the arrival of an inopportune visitor would have +found him apparently in the act of committing a robbery. The +suggestion was obviously absurd. +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” said Thorndyke, as we descended the stairs, “where is +the central character of this drama—Chapman? He is not here, I +suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he is,” replied Miller. “He is committed for trial, but we are +keeping him here until we know where the inquest is to be held. You +would probably like to have a few words with him? Well, I’ll take you +along to the police station and tell them who you are, and then +perhaps you would like to come back here and have some lunch or dinner +before you return to town.” +</p> + +<p> +I warmly seconded the latter proposal, and the arrangement having been +made, we set forth for the police station, which we gathered from +Miller was incorporated with a small local prison. Here we were shown +into what appeared to be a private office, and presently a sergeant +entered, ushering in a man whom we at once recognized from his +resemblance to our client, Mr. George Chapman, disguised though it was +by his pallor, his unshaven face, and his air of abject misery. The +sergeant, having announced him by name, withdrew with the +superintendent and locked the door on the outside. As soon as we were +alone, Thorndyke rapidly acquainted the prisoner with the +circumstances of his brother’s visit and then continued: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Mr. Chapman, you want me to undertake your defence. If I do so, +I must have all the facts. If there is anything known to you that your +brother has not told me, I ask you to tell it to me without +reservation.” +</p> + +<p> +Chapman shook his head wearily. +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing more than you know,” said he. “The whole affair is a +mystery that I can make nothing of. I don’t expect you to believe me. +Who would, with all this evidence against me? But I swear to God that +I know nothing of this abominable crime. When I brought that box down +here, it contained my stock of jewellery and nothing else; and after I +put it in the luggage-room, I never opened it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know of anybody who might have had a motive for getting rid of +Rebecca Mings?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a soul,” replied Chapman. “She led me the devil’s own life, but +she was popular enough with her own friends. And she was an attractive +woman in her way: a fine, well-built woman, rather big—she stood +five-feet-seven—with a good complexion and very handsome golden hair. +Such as her friends were—they were a shady lot—I think they were +fond of her, and I don’t believe she had any enemies.” +</p> + +<p> +“Some hyoscine was found in your house,” said Thorndyke. “Do you know +anything about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I got it when I suffered from neuralgia. But I never took any. +My doctor heard about it and sent me to the dentist. The bottle was +never opened. It contained a hundred tablets.” +</p> + +<p> +“And with regard to the box,” said Thorndyke. “Had you had it long?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not very long. I bought it at Fletchers, in Holborn, about six months +ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you have nothing more to tell us?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied. “I wish I had;” and then, after a pause, he asked +with a wistful look at Thorndyke: “Are you going to undertake my +defence, sir? I can see that there is very little hope, but I should +like to be given just a chance.” +</p> + +<p> +I glanced at Thorndyke, expecting at the most a cautious and +conditional reply. To my astonishment he answered: +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need to take such a gloomy view of the case, Mr. Chapman. +I shall undertake the defence, and I think you have quite a fair +chance of an acquittal.” +</p> + +<p> +On this amazing reply I reflected, not without some self-condemnation, +during our walk to the hotel and the meal that preceded our departure. +For it was evident that I had missed something vital. Thorndyke was a +cautious man and little given to making promises or forecasts of +results. He must have picked up some evidence of a very conclusive +kind; but what that evidence could be, I found it impossible to +imagine. The superintendent, too, was puzzled, I could see, for +Thorndyke made no secret of his intention to go on with the case. But +Miller’s delicate attempts to pump him came to nothing; and when he +had escorted us to the station and our train moved off, I could see +him standing on the platform, gently scratching the back of his head +and gazing speculatively at our retreating carriage. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we were clear of the station, I opened my attack. +</p> + +<p> +“What on earth,” I demanded, “did you mean by giving that poor devil, +Chapman, hopes of acquittal? I can’t see that he has a dog’s chance.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at me gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“My impression is, Jervis,” he said, “that you have not kept an open +mind in this case. You have allowed yourself to fall under the +suggestive influence of the obvious; whereas the function of the +investigator is to consider the possible alternatives of the obvious +inference. And you have not brought your usual keen attention to bear +on the facts. If you had considered George Chapman’s statement +attentively, you would have noticed that it contained some very +curious and significant suggestions; and if you had examined those +dismembered remains critically, you would have seen that they +confirmed those suggestions in a very remarkable manner.” +</p> + +<p> +“As to George Chapman’s statement,” said I, “the only suggestive point +that I recall is the reference to those Maori heads. But, as you, +yourself, pointed out, the dealers in those heads don’t do the +dismemberment.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke shook his head a little impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Tut, tut, Jervis,” said he, “that isn’t the point at all. Any fool +can cut up a dead body as this one has been cut up. The point is that +that statement, carefully considered, yields a definite and consistent +alternative to the theory that Samuel Chapman killed this woman and +dismembered her body; and that alternative theory is supported by the +appearance of these remains. I think you will see the point if you +recall Chapman’s statement, and reflect on the possible bearing of the +various incidents that he described.” +</p> + +<p> +In this, however, Thorndyke was unduly optimistic. I recalled the +statement completely enough, and reflected on it frequently and +profoundly during the next few days; but the more I thought of it the +more conclusive did the case against the accused appear. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile, my colleague appeared to be taking no steps in the matter, +and I assumed that he was waiting for the inquest. It is true that, +when, on one occasion, he had accompanied me towards the City, and +leaving me in Queen Victoria Street disappeared into the premises of +Messrs. Burden Brothers, lock manufacturers, I was inclined to +associate his proceedings with his minute examination of the lock at +Stoke Varley. And, again, when our laboratory assistant, Polton, was +seen to issue forth, top-hatted and armed with an umbrella and an +attaché-case, I suspected some sort of “private inquiries,” possibly +connected with the case. But from Thorndyke I could get no information +at all. My tentative “pumpings” elicited one unvarying reply. “You +have the facts, Jervis. You heard George Chapman’s statement, and you +have seen the remains. Give me a reasonable theory and I will discuss +it with pleasure.” And that was how the matter remained. I had no +reasonable theory—other than that of the police—and there was +accordingly no discussion. +</p> + +<p> +On a certain evening, a couple of days before the inquest—which had +been postponed in the hope that some further remains might be +discovered—I observed signs of an expected visitor: a small table +placed by the supernumerary arm-chair and furnished with a tray +bearing a siphon, a whisky-decanter and a box of cigars. Thorndyke +caught my inquiring glance at these luxuries, for which neither of us +had any use, and proceeded to explain. +</p> + +<p> +“I have asked Miller to look in this evening—he is due now. I have +been working at this Chapman case, and as it is now complete, I +propose to lay my cards on the table.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that safe?” said I. “Supposing the police still go for a +conviction and try to forestall your evidence?” +</p> + +<p> +“They won’t,” he replied. “They couldn’t. And it would be most +improper to let the case go for trial on a false theory. But here is +Miller; and a mighty twitter he is in, I have no doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +He was. Without even waiting for the customary cigar, he plumped down +into the chair, and dragging a letter from his pocket, fixed a glare +of astonishment on my placid colleague. +</p> + +<p> +“This letter of yours, sir,” said he, “is perfectly incomprehensible +to me. You say that you are prepared to put us in possession of the +facts of this Chapman case. But we are in possession of the facts +already. We are absolutely certain of a conviction. Let me remind you, +sir, of what those facts are. We have got a dead body which has been +identified beyond all doubt. Part of that body was found in a box +which is the property of Samuel Chapman, which was brought by him and +deposited by him at the ‘Red Lion’ Hotel. Another part of that body +was found in his dwelling-house. A supply of poison—an uncommon +poison, too—similar to that which killed the dead person, has also +been found in his house; and the dead body is that of a woman with +whom Chapman was known to be on terms of enmity and whom he has +threatened, in the presence of witnesses, to kill. Now, sir, what have +you got to say to those facts?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke regarded the agitated detective with a quiet smile. “My +comments, Miller,” said he, “can be put in a nut-shell. You have got +the wrong man, you have got the wrong box, and you have got the wrong +body.” +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent was thunderstruck, and no wonder. So was I. As to +Miller, he drew himself forward until he was sitting on the extreme +edge of the chair, and for some moments stared at my impassive +colleague in speechless amazement. At length he burst out: +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear sir! This is sheer nonsense—at least, that’s what it +sounds like, though I know it can’t be. Let’s begin with the body. You +say it’s the wrong one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Rebecca Mings was a biggish woman. Her height was +five-feet-seven. This woman was not more than five-feet-four.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah!” exclaimed Miller. “You can’t judge to an inch or two from parts +of a dismembered body. You are forgetting the tattoo-mark. That +clenches the identity beyond any possible doubt.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does, indeed,” said Thorndyke. “That is the crucial evidence. +Rebecca Mings had a certain tattoo-mark on her left forearm. This +woman had not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had not!” shrieked Miller, coming yet farther forward on his chair. +(I expected, every moment, to see him sitting on the floor.) “Why, I +saw it; and so did you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am speaking of the woman, not of the body,” said Thorndyke. “The +mark that you saw was a post-mortem tattoo-mark. It was made after +death. But the fact that it was made after death is good evidence that +it was not there during life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Moses!” exclaimed the superintendent. “This is a facer. Are you +perfectly sure it was done after death?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure. The appearance, through a powerful lens, is unmistakable. +Tattoo-marks are made, as you know, of course, by painting Indian ink +on the skin and pricking it in with fine needles. In the living skin +the needle wounds heal up at once and disappear, but in the dead skin +the needle-holes remain unclosed and can be easily seen with a lens. +In this case the skin had been well washed and the surface pressed +with some smooth object; but the holes were plainly visible and the +ink was still in them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m sure!” said Miller. “I never heard of tattooing a dead body +before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very few people have, I expect,” said Thorndyke. “But there is one +class of persons who know all about it: the persons who deal in Maori +heads.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed?” queried Miller. “How does it concern them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Those heads are usually elaborately tattooed, and the value of a head +depends on the quality of the tattooing. Now, when those heads became +objects of trade, the dealers conceived the idea of touching up +defective specimens by additional tattooing on the dead head, and from +this they proceeded to obtain heads which had no tattoo-marks, and +turn them into tattooed heads.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, to be sure,” said the superintendent, with a grin, “what wicked +men there are in the world, aren’t there, Dr. Jervis?” +</p> + +<p> +I murmured a vague assent, but I was principally conscious of a desire +to kick myself for having failed to pick this invaluable clue out of +George Chapman’s statement. +</p> + +<p> +“And now,” said Miller, “we come to the box. How do you know it is the +wrong one?” +</p> + +<p> +“That,” replied Thorndyke, “is proved even more conclusively. The +original box was made by Fletchers, in Holborn. It was sold to +Chapman, and his initials painted on it, on the 9th of last April. I +have seen the entry in the day-book. The locks of these boxes are made +by Burden Brothers of Queen Victoria Street, and as they are quite +high-class locks each is given a registered number, which is stamped +on the lock. The number on the lock of the box that you have is 5007, +and Burden’s books show that it was made and sold to Fletchers about +the middle of July—the sale was dated the 13th. Therefore this cannot +be Chapman’s box.” +</p> + +<p> +“Apparently not,” Miller agreed. “But whose box is it? And what has +become of Chapman’s box?” +</p> + +<p> +“That,” replied Thorndyke, “was presumably taken away in Mrs. +Murchison’s dress-basket.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then who the deuce is Mrs. Murchison?” demanded the superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“I should say,” replied Thorndyke, “that she was formerly known as +Rebecca Mings.” +</p> + +<p> +“The deceased!” exclaimed Miller, falling back in his chair with a +guffaw. “My eye! What a lark it is! But she must have some sauce, to +walk off with the jewellery and leave her own dismembered remains in +exchange! By the way, whose remains are they?” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall come to that presently,” Thorndyke answered. “Now we have to +consider the man you have in custody.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” agreed Miller, “we must settle about him. Of course if it isn’t +his box, and the body isn’t Mings’ body, that puts him out of it so +far. But there are those remains that we dug up in his cellar. What +about them?” +</p> + +<p> +“That question,” replied Thorndyke, “will, I think, be answered by a +general review of the case. But I must remind you that if the box is +not Chapman’s, it is some other person’s; that is to say, that if +Chapman goes out of the case, as to the Stoke Varley incidents, +someone else comes in. So, if the body is not Mings’ body, it is some +other woman’s, and that other woman must have disappeared. And now let +us review the case as a whole. +</p> + +<p> +“You know about the pocket-picking charge. It was obviously a false +charge, deliberately prepared by ‘planting’ the purse; that is, it was +a conspiracy. Now what was the object of this conspiracy? Clearly it +was to get Chapman out of the way while the boxes were exchanged at +Stoke Varley, and the remains deposited in the river and elsewhere. +Then who were the conspirators—other than the agent who planted the +purse? +</p> + +<p> +“They—if there were more than one—must have had access to Mings, +dead or alive, in order to make the exact copy, or tracing, of her +tattoo-mark. They must have had some knowledge of the process of +post-mortem tattooing. They must have had access to Chapman’s house. +And, since they had in their possession the dead body of a woman, they +must have been associated with some woman who has disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is there who answers this description? Well, of course, Mings had +access to herself, though she could hardly have taken a tracing from +her own arm, and she had access to Chapman’s house, since she had +possession of the latch-key. Then there is a man named Gamble, with +whom Mings was on terms of great intimacy. Now Gamble was formerly a +dealer in tattoed Maori heads, so he may be assumed to know something +about post-mortem tattooing. And I have ascertained that Gamble’s wife +has disappeared from her usual places of resort. So here are two +persons who, together, agree with the description of the conspirators. +And now let us consider the train of events in connexion with the +dates. +</p> + +<p> +“On July the 29th Chapman came to town from Stoke Varley. On the 30th +he was arrested as a pickpocket. On the 31st he was committed for +trial. On the 2nd of August Mrs. Gamble went away to the country. No +one seems to have seen her go, but that is the date on which she is +reported to have gone. On August the 5th Mrs. Murchison deposited at +Stoke Varley a box which must have been purchased between the 13th of +July and the 4th of August, and which contained a woman’s arm. On the +14th of August that box was opened by the police. On the 18th human +remains were discovered in Chapman’s house. On the 27th Chapman was +released from Brixton. On the 28th he was arrested for murder at Stoke +Varley. I think, Miller, you will agree that that is a very striking +succession of dates.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Miller agreed. “It looks like a true bill. If you will give me +Mr. Gamble’s address, I’ll call on him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid you won’t find him at home,” said Thorndyke. “He has gone +into the country, too; and I gather from his landlord, who holds a +returned cheque, that Mr. Gamble’s banking account has gone into the +country with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said the superintendent, “I suppose I must take a trip into +the country, too.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“Well, Thorndyke,” I said, as I laid down the paper containing the +report of the trial of Gamble and Mings for the murder of Theresa +Gamble, one morning about four months later, “you ought to be very +highly gratified. After sentencing Gamble to death and Mings to +fifteen years’ penal servitude, the judge took the opportunity to +compliment the police on their ingenuity in unravelling this crime, +and the Home Office experts on their skill in detecting the +counterfeit tattoo-marks. What do you think of that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” replied Thorndyke, “that his lordship showed a very proper +and appreciative spirit.” +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch07"> +VII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE TRAIL OF BEHEMOTH</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">Of</span> all the minor dissipations in which temperate men indulge there +is none, I think, more alluring than the after-breakfast pipe. I had +just lit mine and was standing before the fire with the unopened paper +in my hand when my ear caught the sound of hurried footsteps ascending +the stair. Now experience has made me somewhat of a connoisseur in +footsteps. A good many are heard on our stair, heralding the advent of +a great variety of clients, and I have learned to distinguish those +which are premonitory of urgent cases. Such I judged the present ones +to be, and my judgment was confirmed by a hasty, importunate tattoo on +our small brass knocker. Regretfully taking the much-appreciated pipe +from my mouth, I crossed the room and threw the door open. +</p> + +<p> +“Good morning, Dr. Jervis,” said our visitor, a barrister whom I knew +slightly. “Is your colleague at home?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Mr. Bidwell,” I replied. “I am sorry to say he is out of town. He +won’t be back until the day after to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bidwell was visibly disappointed. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha! Pity!” he exclaimed; and then with quick tact he added: “But +still, you are here. It comes to the same thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know about that,” said I. “But, at any rate, I am at your +service.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said he. “And in that case I will ask you to come round +with me at once to Tanfield Court. A most shocking thing has happened. +My old friend and neighbour, Giles Herrington, has been—well, he is +dead—died suddenly, and I think there can be no doubt that he was +killed. Can you come now? I will give you the particulars as we go.” +</p> + +<p> +I scribbled a hasty note to say where I had gone, and having laid it +on the table, got my hat and set forth with Mr. Bidwell. +</p> + +<p> +“It has only just been discovered,” said he, as we crossed King’s +Bench Walk. “The laundress who does his chambers and mine was +battering at my door when I arrived—I don’t live in the Temple, you +know. She was as pale as a ghost and in an awful state of alarm and +agitation. It seems that she had gone up to Herrington’s chambers to +get his breakfast ready as usual; but when she went into the +sitting-room she found him lying dead on the floor. Thereupon she +rushed down to my chambers—I am usually an early bird—and there I +found her, as I said, battering at my door, although she has a key. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I went up with her to my friend’s chambers—they are on the +first floor, just over mine—and there, sure enough, was poor old +Giles lying on the floor, cold and stiff. Evidently he had been lying +there all night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Were there any marks of violence on the body?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t notice any,” he replied, “but I didn’t look very closely. +What I did notice was that the place was all in disorder—a chair +overturned and things knocked off the table. It was pretty evident +that there had been a struggle and that he had not met his death by +fair means.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what do you want us to do?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he replied, “I was Herrington’s friend; about the only friend +he had, for he was not an amiable or a sociable man; and I am the +executor of his will. +</p> + +<p> +“Appearances suggest very strongly that he has been murdered, and I +take it upon myself to see that his murderer is brought to account. +Our friendship seems to demand that. Of course, the police will go +into the affair, and if it turns out to be all plain sailing, there +will be nothing for you to do. But the murderer, if there is one, has +got to be secured and convicted, and if the police can’t manage it, I +want you and Thorndyke to see the case through. This is the place.” +</p> + +<p> +He hurried in through the entry and up the stairs to the first-floor +landing, where he rapped loudly at the closed “oak” of a set of +chambers above which was painted the name of “Mr. Giles Herrington.” +</p> + +<p> +After an interval, during which Mr. Bidwell repeated the summons, the +massive door opened and a familiar face looked out: the face of +Inspector Badger of the Criminal Investigation Department. The +expression that it bore was not one of welcome, and my experience of +the inspector caused me to brace myself up for the inevitable contest. +</p> + +<p> +“What is your business?” he inquired forbiddingly. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Bidwell took the question to himself and replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I am Mr. Herrington’s executor, and in that capacity I have +instructed Dr. Jervis and his colleague, Dr. Thorndyke, to watch the +case on my behalf. I take it that you are a police officer?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am,” replied Badger, “and I can’t admit any unauthorized persons to +these chambers.” +</p> + +<p> +“We are not unauthorized persons,” said Mr. Bidwell. “We are here on +legitimate business. Do I understand that you refuse admission to the +legal representatives of the deceased man?” +</p> + +<p> +In the face of Mr. Bidwell’s firm and masterful attitude, Badger +began, as usual, to weaken. Eventually, having warned us to convey no +information to anybody, he grudgingly opened the door and admitted us. +</p> + +<p> +“I have only just arrived, myself,” he said. “I happened to be in the +porter’s lodge on other business when the laundress came and gave the +alarm.” +</p> + +<p> +As I stepped into the room and looked round, I saw at a glance the +clear indications of a crime. The place was in the utmost disorder. +The cloth had been dragged from the table, littering the floor with +broken glass, books, a tobacco jar, and various other objects. A chair +sprawled on its back, the fender was dislodged from its position, the +hearth-rug was all awry; and in the midst of the wreckage, on the +space of floor between the table and the fireplace, the body of a man +was stretched in a not uneasy posture. +</p> + +<p> +I stooped over him and looked him over searchingly; an elderly man, +clean-shaved and slightly bald, with a grim, rather forbidding +countenance, which was not, however, distorted or apparently unusual +in expression. There were no obvious injuries, but the crumpled state +of the collar caused me to look more closely at the throat and neck, +and I then saw pretty plainly a number of slightly discoloured marks, +such as would be made by fingers tightly grasping the throat. +Evidently Badger had already observed them, for he remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no need to ask you what he died of, doctor; I can see that +for myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“The actual cause of death,” said I, “is not quite evident. He doesn’t +appear to have died from suffocation, but those are very unmistakable +marks on the throat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncommonly,” agreed Badger; “and they are enough for my purpose +without any medical hair-splittings. How long do you think he has been +dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“From nine to twelve hours,” I replied, “but nearer nine, I should +think.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector looked at his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“That makes it between nine o’clock and midnight, but nearer +midnight,” said he. “Well, we shall hear if the night porter has +anything to tell us. I’ve sent word for him to come over, and the +laundress, too. And here is one of ’em.” +</p> + +<p> +It was, in fact, both of them, for when the inspector opened the door, +they were discovered conversing eagerly in whispers. +</p> + +<p> +“One at a time,” said Badger. “I’ll have the porter in first;” and +having admitted the man, he unceremoniously shut the door on the +woman. The night porter saluted me as he came in—we were old +acquaintances—and then halted near the door, where he stood stiffly, +with his eyes riveted on the corpse. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said Badger, “I want you to try to remember if you let in any +strangers last night, and if so, what their business was.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember quite well,” the porter replied. “I let in three strangers +while I was on duty. One was going to Mr. Bolter in Fig Tree Court, +one was going to Sir Alfred Blain’s chambers, and the third said he +had an appointment with Mr. Herrington.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” exclaimed Badger, rubbing his hands. “Now, what time did you let +him in?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was just after ten-fifteen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell us what he was like and how he was dressed?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply. “He didn’t know where Tanfield Court was, and I +had to walk down and show him, so I was able to have a good look at +him. He was a middle-sized man, rather thin, dark hair, small +moustache, no beard, and he had a long, sharp nose with a bump on the +bridge. He wore a soft felt hat, a loose light overcoat, and he +carried a thickish rough stick.” +</p> + +<p> +“What class of man was he? Seem to be a gentleman?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was quite a gentlemanly kind of man, so far as I could judge, but +he looked a bit shabby as to his clothes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you let him out?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He came to the gate a few minutes before eleven.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you notice anything unusual about him then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did,” the porter replied impressively. “I noticed that his collar +was all crumpled and his hat was dusty and dented. His face was a bit +red, and he looked rather upset, as if he had been having a tussle +with somebody. I looked at him particularly and wondered what had been +happening, seeing that Mr. Herrington was a quiet, elderly gentleman, +though he was certainly a bit peppery at times.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector took down these particulars gleefully in a large +note-book and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all you know of the affair?” And when the porter replied that +it was, he said: “Then I will ask you to read this statement and sign +your name below it.” +</p> + +<p> +The porter read through his statement and carefully signed his name at +the foot. He was about to depart when Badger said: +</p> + +<p> +“Before you go, perhaps you had better help us to move the body into +the bedroom. It isn’t decent to leave it lying there.” +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly the four of us lifted the dead man and carried him into +the bedroom, where we laid him on the undisturbed bed and covered him +with a rug. Then the porter was dismissed, with instructions to send +in Mrs. Runt. +</p> + +<p> +The laundress’s statement was substantially a repetition of what Mr. +Bidwell had told me. She had let herself into the chambers in the +usual way, had come suddenly on the dead body of the tenant, and had +forthwith rushed downstairs to give the alarm. When she had concluded, +the inspector stood for a few moments looking thoughtfully at his +notes. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” he said presently, “you haven’t looked round these +chambers this morning? Can’t say if there is anything unusual about +them, or anything missing?” +</p> + +<p> +The laundress shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“I was too upset,” she said, with another furtive glance at the place +where the corpse had lain; “but,” she added, letting her eyes roam +vaguely round the room, “there doesn’t seem to be anything missing, so +far as I can see—wait! Yes, there is. There’s something gone from +that nail on the wall; and it was there yesterday morning, because I +remember dusting it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” exclaimed Badger. “Now what was it that was hanging on that +nail?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” Mrs. Runt replied hesitatingly, “I really don’t know what it +was. Seemed like a sort of sword or dagger, but I never looked at it +particularly, and I never took it off its nail. I used to dust it as +it hung.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” said Badger, “you can give us some sort of description of it, +I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know that I can,” she replied. “It had a leather case, and +the handle was covered with leather, I think, and it had a sort of +loop, and it used to hang on that nail.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you said that before,” Badger commented sourly. “When you say it +had a case, do you mean a sheath?” +</p> + +<p> +“You can call it a sheath if you like,” she retorted, evidently +ruffled by the inspector’s manner, “I call it a case.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how big was it? How long, for instance?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Runt held out her hands about a yard apart, looked at them +critically, shortened the interval to a foot, extended it to two, and +still varying the distance, looked vaguely at the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“I should say it was about that,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“About what?” snorted Badger. “Do you mean a foot or two feet or a +yard? Can’t you give us some idea?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t say no clearer than what I have,” she snapped. “I don’t go +round gentlemen’s chambers measuring the things.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to me that Badger’s questions were rather unnecessary, for +the wall-paper below the nail gave the required information. A +coloured patch on the faded ground furnished a pretty clear silhouette +of a broad-bladed sword or large dagger, about two feet six inches +long, which had apparently hung from the nail by a loop or ring at the +end of the handle. But it was not my business to point this out. I +turned to Bidwell and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell us what the thing was?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid I can’t,” he replied. “I have very seldom been in these +chambers. Herrington and I usually met in mine and went to the club. +I have a dim recollection of something hanging on that nail, but I +have not the least idea what it was or what it was like. But do you +think it really matters? The thing was almost certainly a curio of +some kind. It couldn’t have been of any appreciable value. It is +absurd, on the face of it, to suppose that this man came to +Herrington’s chambers, apparently by appointment, and murdered him for +the sake of getting possession of an antique sword or dagger. Don’t +you think so?” +</p> + +<p> +I did, and so, apparently, did the inspector, with the qualification +that “the thing seemed to have disappeared, and its disappearance +ought to be accounted for”; which was perfectly true, though I did not +quite see how the “accounting for” was to be effected. However, as the +laundress had told all that she knew, Badger gave her her dismissal +and she retired to the landing, where I noticed that the night porter +was still lurking. Mr. Bidwell also took his departure, and happening, +a few moments later, to glance out of the window, I saw him walking +slowly across the court, apparently conferring with the laundress and +the porter. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as we were alone, Badger assumed a friendly and confidential +manner and proceeded to give advice. +</p> + +<p> +“I gather that Mr. Bidwell wants you to investigate this case, but I +don’t fancy it is in your line at all. It is just a matter of tracing +that stranger and getting hold of him. Then we shall have to find out +what property there was on these premises. The laundress says that +there is nothing missing, but of course no one supposes that the man +came here to take the furniture. It is most probable that the motive +was robbery of some kind. There’s no sign of anything broken open; but +then, there wouldn’t be, as the keys were available.” +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless he prowled round the room, examining every receptacle +that had a lock and trying the drawers of the writing table and of +what looked like a file cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +“You will have your work cut out,” I remarked, “to trace that man. The +porter’s description was pretty vague.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied; “there isn’t much to go on. That’s where you come +in,” he added with a grin, “with your microscopes and air-pumps and +things. Now if Dr. Thorndyke was here he would just sweep a bit of +dust from the floor and collect any stray oddments and have a good +look at them through his magnifier, and then we should know all about +it. Can’t you do a bit in that line? There’s plenty of dust on the +floor. And here’s a pin. Wonderful significant thing is a pin. And +here’s a wax vesta; now, that ought to tell you quite a lot. And here +is the end of a leather boot-lace—at least, that is what it looks +like. That must have come out of somebody’s boot. Have a look at it, +doctor, and see if you can tell me what kind of boot it came out of +and whose boot it was.” +</p> + +<p> +He laid the fragment, and the match, and the pin, on the table and +grinned at me somewhat offensively. Inwardly I resented his +impertinence—perhaps the more so since I realized that Thorndyke +would probably not have been so completely gravelled as I undoubtedly +was. But I considered it politic to take his clumsy irony in good +part, and even to carry on his elephantine joke. Accordingly, I picked +up the three “clues,” one after the other, and examined them gravely, +noting that the supposed boot-lace appeared to be composed of +whalebone or vulcanite. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, inspector,” I said, “I can’t give you the answer off-hand. +There’s no microscope here. But I will examine these objects at my +leisure and let you have the information in due course.” +</p> + +<p> +With that I wrapped them with ostentatious care in a piece of +note-paper and bestowed them in my pocket, a proceeding which the +inspector watched with a sour smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid you’ll be too late,” said he. “Our men will probably pick +up the tracks while you are doing the microscope stunt. However, I +mustn’t stay here any longer. We can’t do anything until we know what +valuables there were on the premises; and I must have the body removed +and examined by the police surgeon.” +</p> + +<p> +He moved towards the door, and as I had no further business in the +rooms, I followed, and leaving him to lock up, I took my way back to +our chambers. +</p> + +<p> +When Thorndyke returned to town a couple of days later, I mentioned +the case to him. But what Badger had said appeared to be true. It was +a case of ascertaining the identity of the stranger who had visited +the dead man on that fatal night, and this seemed to be a matter for +the police rather than for us. So the case remained in abeyance until +the evening following the inquest, when Mr. Bidwell called on us, +accompanied by a Mr. Carston, whom he introduced as an old friend of +his and of Herrington’s family. +</p> + +<p> +“I have called,” he said, “to bring you a full report of the evidence +at the inquest. I had a shorthand writer there, and this is a typed +transcript of his notes. Nothing fresh transpired beyond what Dr. +Jervis knows and has probably told you, but I thought you had better +have all the information in writing.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no clue as to who the suspicious visitor was, I suppose?” +said Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Not the slightest,” replied Bidwell. “The porter’s description is all +they have to go on, and of course it would apply to hundreds of +persons. But, in connexion with that, there is a question on which I +should like to take your opinion. Poor Herrington once mentioned to me +that he was subjected to a good deal of annoyance by a certain person +who from time to time applied to him for financial help. I gathered +that some sort of claim was advanced, and that the demands for money +were more or less of the nature of blackmail. Giles didn’t say who the +person was, but I got the impression that he was a relative. Now, my +friend Carston, who attended the inquest with me, noticed that the +porter’s description of the stranger would apply fairly well to a +nephew of Giles’s, whom he knows slightly and who is a somewhat shady +character; and the question that Carston and I have been debating is +whether these facts ought to be communicated to the police. It is a +serious matter to put a man under suspicion on such very slender data; +and yet——” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet,” said Carston, “the facts certainly fit the circumstances. +This fellow—his name is Godfrey Herrington—is a typical +ne’er-do-weel. Nobody knows how he lives. He doesn’t appear to do any +work. And then there is the personality of the deceased. I didn’t know +Giles Herrington very well, but I knew his brother, Sir Gilbert, +pretty intimately, and if Giles was at all like him, a catastrophe +might easily have occurred.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was Sir Gilbert’s special characteristic?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Unamiability,” was the reply. “He was a most cantankerous, +overbearing man, and violent at times. I knew him when I was at the +Colonial Office with him, and one of his official acts will show the +sort of man he was. You may remember it, Bidwell—the Bekwè affair. +There was some trouble in Bekwè, which is one of the minor kingdoms +bordering on Ashanti, and Sir Gilbert was sent out as a special +commissioner to settle it. And settle it he did with a vengeance. He +took up an armed force, deposed the king of Bekwè, seized the royal +stool, message stick, state sword, drums, and the other insignia of +royalty, and brought them away with him. And what made it worse was +that he treated these important things as mere loot: kept some of them +himself and gave away others as presents to his friends. +</p> + +<p> +“It was an intolerably high-handed proceeding, and it caused a rare +outcry. Even the Colonial Governor protested, and in the end the +Secretary of State directed the Governor to reinstate the king and +restore the stolen insignia, as these things went with the royal title +and were necessary for the ceremonies of re-instatement or the +accession of a new king.” +</p> + +<p> +“And were they restored?” asked Bidwell. +</p> + +<p> +“Most of them were. But just about this time Gilbert died, and as the +whereabouts of one or two of them were unknown, it was impossible to +collect them then. I don’t know if they have been found since.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Thorndyke led Mr. Carston back to the point from which he had +digressed. +</p> + +<p> +“You are suggesting that certain peculiarities of temper and +temperament on the part of the deceased might have some bearing on the +circumstances of his death.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Carston. “If Giles Herrington was at all like his +brother—I don’t know whether he was——” here he looked inquiringly +at Bidwell, who nodded emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +“I should say he was, undoubtedly,” said he. “He was my friend, and I +was greatly attached to him; but to others, I must admit, he must have +appeared a decidedly morose, cantankerous, and irascible man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” resumed Carston. “If you imagine this cadging, +blackmailing wastrel calling on him and trying to squeeze him, and +then you imagine Herrington refusing to be squeezed and becoming +abusive and even violent, you have a fair set of antecedents for—for +what, in fact, did happen.” +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” said Thorndyke, “what exactly did happen, according to +the evidence?” +</p> + +<p> +“The medical evidence,” replied Bidwell, “showed that the immediate +cause of death was heart failure. There were marks of fingers on the +throat, as you know, and various other bruises. It was evident that +deceased had been violently assaulted, but death was not directly due +to the injuries.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the finding of the jury?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Wilful murder, committed by some person unknown.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t appear to me,” said I, “that Mr. Carston’s suggestion has +much present bearing on the case. It is really a point for the +defence. But we are concerned with the identity of the unknown man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am inclined to agree with Dr. Jervis,” said Bidwell. “We have got +to catch the hare before we go into culinary details.” +</p> + +<p> +“My point is,” said Carston, “that Herrington’s peculiar temper +suggests a set of circumstances that would render it probable that his +visitor was his nephew Godfrey.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is some truth in that,” Thorndyke agreed. “It is highly +speculative, but a reasonable speculation cannot be disregarded when +the known facts are so few. My feeling is that the police ought to be +informed of the existence of this man and his possible relations with +the deceased. As to whether he is or is not the suspected stranger, +that could be settled at once if he were confronted with the night +porter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that is true,” said Bidwell. “I think Carston and I had better +call at Scotland Yard and give the Assistant Commissioner a hint on +the subject. It will have to be a very guarded hint, of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was the question of motive raised?” Thorndyke asked. “As to robbery, +for instance.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no evidence of robbery,” replied Bidwell. “I have been +through all the receptacles in the chambers, and everything seems +intact. The keys were in poor Giles’s pocket and nothing seems to have +been disturbed; indeed, it doesn’t appear that there was any portable +property of value on the premises.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Thorndyke, “the first thing that has to be done is to +establish the identity of the nocturnal visitor. That is the business +of the police. And if you call and tell them what you have told us, +they will, at least, have something to investigate. They should have +no difficulty in proving either that he is or is not the man whom the +porter let in at the gate; and until they have settled that question, +there is no need for us to take any action.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly,” said Bidwell, rising and taking up his hat. “If the police +can complete the case, there is nothing for us to do. However, I will +leave you the report of the inquest to look over at your leisure, and +will keep you informed as to how the case progresses.” +</p> + +<p> +When our two friends had gone, Thorndyke sat for some time turning +over the sheets of the report and glancing through the depositions of +the witnesses. Presently he remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“If it turns out that this man, Godfrey Herrington, is not the man +whom the porter let in, the police will be left in the air. Apart from +Bidwell’s purely speculative suggestion, there seems to be no clue +whatever to the visitor’s identity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Badger would like to hear you say that,” said I. “He was very +sarcastic respecting our methods of research,” and here I gave him an +account of my interview with the inspector, including the “clues” with +which he had presented me. +</p> + +<p> +“It was like his impudence,” Thorndyke commented smilingly, “to pull +the leg of my learned junior. Still, there was a germ of sense in what +he said. A collection of dust from the floor of that room, in which +two men had engaged in a violent struggle, would certainly yield +traces of both of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mixed up with the traces of a good many others,” I remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“True,” he admitted. “But that would not affect the value of a +positive trace of a particular individual. Supposing, for instance, +that Godfrey Herrington were known to have dyed hair; and suppose that +one or more dyed male hairs were found in the dust from the floor of +the room. That would establish a probability that he had been in that +room, and also that he was the person who had struggled with the +deceased.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I see that,” said I. “Perhaps I ought to have collected some of +the dust. But it isn’t too late now, as Bidwell has locked up the +chambers. Meanwhile, let me present you with Badger’s clues. They came +off the floor.” +</p> + +<p> +I searched in my pocket and produced the paper packet, the existence +of which I had forgotten, and having opened it, offered it to him with +an ironical bow. He looked gravely at the little collection, and, +disregarding the pin and the match, picked out the third object and +examined it curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“That is the alleged boot-lace end,” he remarked. “It doesn’t do much +credit to Badger’s powers of observation. It is as unlike leather as +it could well be.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I agreed, “it is obviously whalebone or vulcanite.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t vulcanite,” said he, looking closely at the broken end and +getting out his pocket lens for a more minute inspection. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you suppose it is?” I asked, my curiosity stimulated by the +evident interest with which he was examining the object. +</p> + +<p> +“We needn’t suppose,” he replied. “I fancy that if we get Polton to +make a cross section of it, the microscope will tell us what it is. I +will take it up to him now.” +</p> + +<p> +As he went out and I heard him ascending to the laboratory where our +assistant, Polton, was at work, I was conscious of a feeling of +vexation and a sense of failure. It was always thus. I had treated +this fragment with the same levity as had the inspector, just dropping +it into my pocket and forgetting it. Probably the thing was of no +interest or importance; but whether it was or not, Thorndyke would not +be satisfied until he knew for certain what it was. And that habit of +examining everything, of letting nothing pass without the closest +scrutiny, was one of the great secrets of his success as an +investigator. +</p> + +<p> +When he came down again I re-opened the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“It has occurred to me,” I said, “that it might be as well for us to +have a look at that room. My inspection was rather perfunctory, as +Badger was there.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have just been thinking the same,” he replied. “If Godfrey is not +the man, and the police are left stranded, Bidwell will look to us to +take up the inquiry, and by that time the room may have been +disturbed. I think we will get the key from Bidwell to-morrow morning +and make a thorough examination. And we may as well adopt Badger’s +excellent suggestion respecting the dust. I will instruct Polton to +come over with us and bring a full-sized vacuum-cleaner, and we can go +over what he collects at our leisure.” +</p> + +<p> +Agreeably to this arrangement, we presented ourselves on the following +morning at Mr. Bidwell’s chambers, accompanied by Polton, who, +however, being acutely conscious of the vacuum-cleaner which was +thinly disguised in brown paper, sneaked up the stairs and got out of +sight. Bidwell opened the door himself, and Thorndyke explained our +intentions to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you can have the key,” he said, “but I don’t know that it +is worth your while to go into the matter. There have been +developments since I saw you last night. When Carston and I called at +Scotland Yard we found that we were too late. Godfrey Herrington had +come forward and made a voluntary statement.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was wise of him,” said Thorndyke, “but he would have been wiser +still to have notified the porter of what had happened and sent for a +doctor. He claims that the death was a misadventure, of course?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” replied Bidwell. “He states that when he left, Giles was +perfectly well; so well that he was able to kick him—Godfrey—down +the stairs and pitch him out on to the pavement. It seems, according +to his account, that he called to try to get some financial help from +his uncle. He admits that he was rather importunate and persisted +after Giles had definitely refused. Then Giles got suddenly into a +rage, thrust him out of the chambers, ran him down the stairs, and +threw him out into Tanfield Court. It is a perfectly coherent story, +and quite probable up to a certain point, but it doesn’t account for +the bruises on Giles’s body or the finger-marks on his throat.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” agreed Thorndyke; “either he is lying, or he is the victim of +some very inexplicable circumstances. But I gather that you have no +further interest in the case?” +</p> + +<p> +Bidwell reflected. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, “I don’t know about that. Of course I don’t believe +him, but it is just possible that he is telling the truth. My feeling +is that, if he is guilty I want him convicted; but if by any chance he +is innocent—well, he is Giles’s nephew, and I suppose it is my duty +to see that he has a fair chance. Yes, I think I would like you to +watch the case independently—with a perfectly open mind, neither for +nor against. But I don’t see that there is much that you can do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither do I,” said Thorndyke. “But one can observe and note the +visible facts, if there are any. Has anything been done to the rooms?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing whatever,” was the reply. “They are just as Dr. Jervis and I +found them the morning after the catastrophe.” +</p> + +<p> +With this he handed Thorndyke the key and we ascended to the landing, +where we found Polton on guard with the vacuum-cleaner, like a sentry +armed with some new and unorthodox weapon. +</p> + +<p> +The appearance of the room was unchanged. The half-dislodged +table-cloth, the litter of broken glass on the floor, even the +displaced fender and hearth-rug, were just as I had last seen them. +Thorndyke looked about him critically and remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“The appearances hardly support Godfrey’s statement. There was clearly +a prolonged and violent struggle, not a mere ejectment. And look at +the table-cloth. The uncovered part of the table is that nearest the +door, and most of the things have fallen off at the end nearest the +fireplace. Obviously, the body that dislodged the cloth was moving +away from the door, not towards it, which again suggests something +more than an unresisted ejectment.” +</p> + +<p> +He again looked round, and his glance fell on the nail and the +coloured silhouette on the wall-paper. +</p> + +<p> +“That, I presume,” said he, “is where the mysterious sword or dagger +hung. It is rather large for a dagger and somewhat wide for a sword, +though barbaric swords are of all shapes and sizes.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced his spring tape and carefully measured the phantom shape +on the wall. “Thirty-one inches long,” he reported, “including the +loop at the end of the handle, by which it hung; seven and a half +inches at the top of the scabbard, tapering rather irregularly to +three inches at the tip. A curious shape. I don’t remember ever having +seen a sword quite like it.” +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile Polton, having picked up the broken glass and other objects, +had uncovered the vacuum-cleaner and now started the motor—which was +driven by an attached dry battery—and proceeded very systematically +to trundle the machine along the floor. At every two or three sweeps +he paused to empty the receiver, placing the grey, felt-like mass on a +sheet of paper, with a pencilled note of the part of the room from +whence it came. The size of these masses of felted dust and the +astonishing change in the colour of the carpet that marked the trail +of the cleaner, suggested that Mrs. Runt’s activities had been of a +somewhat perfunctory character. Polton’s dredgings apparently +represented the accumulations of years. +</p> + +<p> +“Wonderful lot of hairs in this old dust,” Polton remarked as he +deposited a fresh consignment on the paper, “especially in this lot. +It came from under that looking-glass on the wall. Perhaps that +clothes brush that hangs under the glass accounts for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I agreed, “they will be hairs brushed off Mr. Herrington’s +collar and shoulders. But,” I added, taking the brush from its nail +and examining it, “Mrs. Runt seems to have used the glass, too. There +are three long hairs still sticking to the brush.” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke was still occupied in browsing inquisitively round the +room, I proceeded to make a preliminary inspection of the heaps of +dust, picking out the hairs and other recognizable objects with my +pocket forceps, and putting them on a separate sheet of paper. Of the +former, the bulk were pretty obviously those of the late tenant—white +or dull black male hairs—but Mrs. Runt had contributed quite +liberally, for I picked out of the various heaps over a dozen long +hairs, the mousy brown colour of which seemed to identify them as +hers. The remainder were mostly ordinary male hairs of various +colours, eyebrow hairs and eyelashes, of no special interest, with one +exception. This was a black hair which lay flat on the paper in a +close coil, like a tiny watch-spring. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder who this negro was,” said I, inspecting it through my lens. +</p> + +<p> +“Probably some African or West Indian Law student,” Thorndyke +suggested. “There are always a good many about the Inns of Court.” +</p> + +<p> +He came round to examine my collection, and while he was viewing the +negro hair with the aid of my lens, I renewed my investigations of the +little dust-heaps. Presently I made a new discovery. +</p> + +<p> +“Why,” I exclaimed, “here is another of Badger’s boot-laces—another +piece of the same one, I think. By the way, did you ascertain what +that boot-lace really was?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied. “Polton made a section of it and mounted it; and +furthermore, he made a magnified photograph of it. I have the +photograph in my pocket, so you can answer your own question.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced from his letter-case a half-plate print which he handed to +me and which I examined curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a singular object,” said I, “but I don’t quite make it out. It +looks rather like a bundle of hairs embedded in some transparent +substance.” +</p> + +<p> +“That, in effect,” he replied, “is what it is. It is an elephant’s +hair, probably from the tail. But, as you see, it is a compound hair; +virtually a group of hairs agglutinated into a single stem. Most very +large hairs are compound. A tiger’s whiskers, for instance, are large, +stiff hairs which, if cut across, are seen to be formed of several +largish hairs fused together; and the colossal hair which grows on the +nose of the rhinoceros—the so-called nasal horn—is made up of +thousands of subordinate hairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is a remarkable-looking thing,” I said, handing back the +photograph; “very distinctive—if you happen to know what it is. But +the mystery is how on earth it came here. There are no elephants in +the Temple.” +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly haven’t noticed any,” he replied; “and, as you say, the +presence of an elephant’s hair in a room in the middle of London is a +rather remarkable circumstance. And yet, perhaps, if we consider all +the other circumstances, it may not be impossible to form a conjecture +as to how it came here. I recommend the problem to my learned friend +for consideration at his leisure; and now, as we have seen all that +there is to see—which is mighty little—we may as well leave Polton +to finish the collection of data from the floor. We can take your +little selection with us.” +</p> + +<p> +He folded the paper containing the hairs that I had picked out into a +neat packet, which he slipped into his pocket; then, having handed the +key of the outer door to Polton, for return to Mr. Bidwell, he went +out and I followed. We descended the stairs slowly, both of us deeply +reflective. As to the subject of his meditations I could form no +opinion, but my own were occupied by the problem which he had +suggested; and the more I reflected on it, the less capable of +solution did it appear. +</p> + +<p> +We had nearly reached the ground floor when I became aware of quick +footsteps descending the stairs behind us. Near the entry our follower +overtook us, and as we stood aside to let him pass, I had a brief +vision of a shortish, dapper, smartly-dressed coloured man—apparently +an African or West Indian—who carried a small suit-case and a set of +golf-clubs. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said I, in a low tone, “I wonder if that gentleman is the late +owner of that negro hair that I picked up. It seems intrinsically +probable as he appears to live in this building, and would be a near +neighbour of Herrington’s.” I halted at the entry and read out the +only name painted on the door-post as appertaining to the second +floor—Mr. Kwaku Essien, which, I decided, seemed to fit a gentleman +of colour. +</p> + +<p> +But Thorndyke was not listening. His long legs were already carrying +him, with a deceptively leisurely air, across Tanfield Court in the +wake of Mr. Essien, and at about the same pace. I put on a spurt and +overtook him, a little mystified by his sudden air of purpose and by +the fact that he was not walking in the direction of our chambers. +Still more mystified was I when it became clear that Thorndyke was +following the African and keeping at a constant distance in rear of +him; but I made no comment until, having pursued our quarry to the top +of Middle Temple Lane, we saw him hail a taxi and drive off. Then I +demanded an explanation. +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to see him fairly out of the precincts,” was the reply, +“because I have a particular desire to see what his chambers are like. +I only hope his door has a practicable latch.” +</p> + +<p> +I stared at him in dismay. +</p> + +<p> +“You surely don’t contemplate breaking into his chambers!” I +exclaimed. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly not,” he replied. “If the latch won’t yield to gentle +persuasion, I shall give it up. But don’t let me involve you, Jervis. +I admit that it is a slightly irregular proceeding.” +</p> + +<p> +“Irregular!” I repeated. “It is housebreaking, pure and simple. I can +only hope that you won’t be able to get in.” +</p> + +<p> +The hope turned out to be a vain one, as I had secretly feared. When +we had reconnoitred the stairs and established the encouraging fact +that the third floor was untenanted, we inspected the door above which +our victim’s name was painted; and a glance at the yawning +key-hole—diagnostic of an old-fashioned draw-latch—told me that the +deed was as good as done. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Jervis,” said Thorndyke, producing from his pocket the curious +instrument that he described as a “smoker’s companion”—it was an +undeniable picklock, made by Polton under his direction—“you had +better clear out and wait for me at our chambers.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall do nothing of the kind,” I replied. “I am an accessory before +the fact already, so I may as well stay and see the crime committed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then in that case,” said he, “you had better keep a look-out from the +landing window and call me if anyone comes to the house. That will +make us perfectly safe.” +</p> + +<p> +I accordingly took my station at the window, and Thorndyke, having +knocked several times at the “oak” without eliciting any response, set +to work with the smoker’s companion. In less than a minute the latch +clicked, the outer door opened, and Thorndyke, pushing the inner door +open, entered, leaving both doors ajar. I was devoured by curiosity as +to what his purpose was. Obviously it must be a very definite one to +justify this most extraordinary proceeding. But I dared not leave my +post for a moment seeing that we were really engaged in a very serious +breach of the law, and it was of vital importance that we should not +be surprised in the act. I was therefore unable to observe my +colleague’s proceedings, and I waited impatiently to see if anything +came of this unlawful entry. +</p> + +<p> +I had waited thus some ten minutes, keeping a close watch on the +pavement below, when I heard Thorndyke quickly cross the room and +approach the door. A moment later he came out on the landing, bearing +in his hand an object which, while it enlightened me as to the purpose +of the raid, added to my mystification. +</p> + +<p> +“That looks like the missing sword from Herrington’s room!” I +exclaimed, gazing at it in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied. “I found it in a drawer in the bedroom. Only it +isn’t a sword.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, what the deuce is it?” I demanded, for the thing looked like a +broad-bladed sword in a soft leather scabbard of somewhat rude native +workmanship. +</p> + +<p> +By way of reply he slowly drew the object from its sheath, and as it +came into sight, I uttered an exclamation of astonishment. To the +inexpert eye it appeared an elongated body about nine inches in length +covered with coarse, black leather, from either side of which sprang a +multitude of what looked like thick, black wires. Above, it was +furnished with a leather handle which was surmounted by a suspension +loop of plaited leather. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it,” said I, “that this is an elephant’s tail.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he replied, “and a rather remarkable specimen. The hairs are of +unusual length. Some of them, you see, are nearly eighteen inches +long.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what are you going to do now?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I am going to put it back where I found it. Then I shall run down to +Scotland Yard and advise Miller to get a search warrant. He is too +discreet to ask inconvenient questions.” +</p> + +<p> +I must admit that it was a great relief to me when, a minute later, +Thorndyke came out and shut the door; but I could not deny that the +raid had been justified by the results. What had, presumably, been a +mere surmise had been converted into a definite fact on which action +could confidently be taken. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” said I, as we walked down towards the Embankment en route +for Scotland Yard, “I ought to have spotted this case.” +</p> + +<p> +“You had the means,” Thorndyke replied. “At your first visit you +learned that an object of some kind had disappeared from the wall. It +seemed to be a trivial object of no value, and not likely to be +connected with the crime. So you disregarded it. But it had +disappeared. Its disappearance was not accounted for, and that +disappearance seemed to coincide in time with the death of Herrington. +It undoubtedly called for investigation. Then you found on the floor +an object the nature of which was unknown to you. Obviously, you ought +to have ascertained what it was.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I ought,” I admitted, “though I am not sure that I should have +been much forrarder even then. In fact, I am not so very much +forrarder even now. I don’t see how you spotted this man Essien, and I +don’t understand why he took all this trouble and risk and even +committed a murder to get possession of this trumpery curio. Of course +I can make a vague guess. But I should like to hear how you ran the +man and the thing to earth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Thorndyke. “Let me retrace the train of discoveries +and inferences in their order. First I learned that an object, +supposed to be a barbaric sword of some kind, had disappeared about +the time of the murder—if it <i>was</i> a murder. Then we heard from +Carston that Sir Gilbert Herrington had appropriated the insignia and +ceremonial objects belonging to the King of Bekwè; that some had +subsequently been restored, but others had been given to friends as +curios. As I listened to that story, the possibility occurred to me +that this curio which had disappeared might be one of the missing +ceremonial objects. It was not only possible: it was quite probable. +For Giles Herrington was a very likely person to have received one of +these gifts, and his morose temper made it unlikely that he would +restore it. And then, since such an object would be of great value to +somebody, and since it was actually stolen property, there would be +good reasons why some interested person should take forcible +possession of it. This, of course, was mere hypothesis of a rather +shadowy kind. But when you produced an object which I at once +suspected, and then proved, to be an elephant’s hair, the hypothesis +became a reasonable working theory. For, among the ceremonial objects +which form what we may call the regalia of a West African king, is the +elephant’s tail which is carried before him by a special officer as a +symbol of his power and strength. An elephant’s tail had pretty +certainly been stolen from the king, and Carston said nothing about +its having been restored. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, when we went to Herrington’s chambers just now, it was clear to +me that the thing which had disappeared was certainly not a sword. The +phantom shape on the wall did not show much, but it did show plainly +that the object had hung from the nail by a large loop at the end of +the handle. But the suspension loop of a sword or dagger is always on +the scabbard, never on the hilt. But if the thing was not a sword, +what was it? The elephant’s hair that you found on the floor seemed to +answer the question. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, as we came in, I had noticed on the door-post the West African +name, Kwaku Essien. A man whose name is Kwaku is pretty certainly a +negro. But if this was an elephant’s tail, its lawful owner was a +negro, and that owner wanted to recover it and was morally entitled to +take possession of it. Here was another striking agreement. The +chambers over Herrington’s were occupied by a negro. Finally, you +found among the floor dust a negro’s hair. Then a negro had actually +been in this room. But from what we know of Herrington, that negro was +not there as an invited visitor. All the probabilities pointed to Mr. +Essien. But the probabilities were not enough to act on. Then we had a +stroke of sheer luck. We got the chance to explore Essien’s chambers +and seek the crucial fact. But here we are at Scotland Yard.” +</p> + +<p class="mt1"> +That night, at about eight o’clock, a familiar tattoo on our knocker +announced the arrival of Mr. Superintendent Miller, not entirely +unexpected, as I guessed. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said, as I let him in, “the coloured nobleman has come +home. I’ve just had a message from the man who was detailed to watch +the premises.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going to make the arrest now?” asked Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and I should be glad if you could come across with me. You know +more about the case than I do.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke assented at once, and we set forth together. As we entered +Tanfield Court we passed a man who was lurking in the shadow of an +entry, and who silently indicated the lighted windows of the chambers +for which we were bound. Ascending the stairs up which I had lately +climbed with unlawful intent, we halted at Mr. Essien’s door, on which +the superintendent executed an elaborate flourish with his stick, +there being no knocker. After a short interval we heard a bolt +withdrawn, the door opened a short distance, and in the interval a +black face appeared, looking out at us suspiciously. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you, and what do you want?” the owner of the face demanded +gruffly. +</p> + +<p> +“You are Mr. Kwaku Essien, I think?” said Miller, unostentatiously +insinuating his foot into the door opening. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the reply. “But I don’t know you. What is your business?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am a police officer,” Miller replied, edging his foot in a little +farther, “and I hold a warrant to arrest you on the charge of having +murdered Mr. Giles Herrington.” +</p> + +<p> +Before the superintendent had fairly finished his sentence, the dusky +face vanished and the door slammed violently—on to the +superintendent’s massive foot. That foot was instantly reinforced by a +shoulder and for a few moments there was a contest of forces, opposite +but not equal. Suddenly the door flew open and the superintendent +charged into the room. I had a momentary vision of a flying figure, +closely pursued, darting through into an inner room, of the slamming +of a second door—once more on an intercepting foot. And then—it all +seemed to have happened in a few seconds—a dejected figure, sitting +on the edge of a bed, clasping a pair of manacled hands and watching +Miller as he drew the elephant’s tail out of a drawer in the dressing +chest. +</p> + +<p> +“This—er—article,” said Miller, “belonged to Mr. Herrington, and was +stolen from his premises on the night of the murder.” +</p> + +<p> +Essien shook his head emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he replied. “You are wrong. I stole nothing, and I did not +murder Mr. Herrington. Listen to me and I will tell you all about it.” +</p> + +<p> +Miller administered the usual caution and the prisoner continued: +</p> + +<p> +“This elephant-brush is one of many things stolen, years ago, from the +king of Bekwè. Some of those things—most of them—have been +restored, but this could not be traced for a long time. At last it +became known to me that Mr. Herrington had it, and I wrote to him +asking him to give it up and telling him who I was—I am the eldest +living son of the king’s sister, and therefore, according to our law, +the heir to the kingdom. But he would not give it up or even sell it. +Then, as I am a student of the Inn, I took these chambers above his, +intending, when I had an opportunity, to go in and take possession of +my uncle’s property. The opportunity came that night that you have +spoken of. I was coming up the stairs to my chambers when, as I passed +his door, I heard loud voices inside as of people quarrelling. I had +just reached my own door and opened it when I heard his door open, and +then a great uproar and the sound of a struggle. I ran down a little +way and looked over the banisters, and then I saw him thrusting a man +across the landing and down the lower stairs. As they disappeared, I +ran down, and finding his door ajar, I went in to recover my property. +It took me a little time to find it, and I had just taken it from the +nail and was going out with it when, at the door, I met Mr. Herrington +coming in. He was very excited already, and when he saw me he seemed +to go mad. I tried to get past him, but he seized me and dragged me +back into the room, wrenching the thing out of my hand. He was very +violent. I thought he wanted to kill me, and I had to struggle for my +life. Suddenly he let go his hold of me, staggered back a few paces, +and then fell on the floor. I stooped over him, thinking that he was +taken ill, and wondering what I had better do. But soon I saw that he +was not ill; he was dead. Then I was very frightened. I picked up the +elephant-brush and put it back into its case, and I went out very +quietly, shut the door, and ran up to my rooms. That is what happened. +There was no robbery and murder.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“Well,” said Miller, as the prisoner and his escort disappeared +towards the gate, “I suppose, in a technical sense, it is murder, but +they are hardly likely to press the charge.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think it is even technically,” said Thorndyke. “My feeling is +that he will be acquitted if he is sent for trial. Meanwhile, I take +it that my client, Godfrey Herrington, will be released from custody +at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, doctor,” replied Miller, “I will see to that now. He has had +better luck than he deserved, I suspect, in having his case looked +after by you. I don’t fancy he would have got an acquittal if he had +gone for trial.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke’s forecast was nearly correct, but there was no acquittal, +since there was no trial. The case against Kwaku Essien never got +farther than the Grand Jury. +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch08"> +VIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE PATHOLOGIST TO THE RESCUE</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +“<span class="sc">I hope</span>,” said I, as I looked anxiously out of our window up King’s +Bench Walk, “that our friend, Foxley, will turn up to time, or I shall +lose the chance of hearing his story. I must be in court by half-past +eleven. The telegram said that he was a parson, didn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “The Reverend Arthur Foxley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then perhaps this may be he. There is a parson crossing from the Row +in this direction, only he has a girl with him. He didn’t say anything +about a girl, did he?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. He merely asked for the appointment. However,” he added, as he +joined me at the window and watched the couple approaching with their +eyes apparently fixed on the number above our portico, “this is +evidently our client, and punctual to the minute.” +</p> + +<p> +In response to the old-fashioned flourish on our little knocker, he +opened the inner door and invited the clergyman and his companion to +enter; and while the mutual introductions were in progress, I looked +critically at our new clients. Mr. Foxley was a typical and favourable +specimen of his class: a handsome, refined, elderly gentleman, prim as +to his speech, suave and courteous in bearing, with a certain engaging +simplicity of manner which impressed me very favourably. His companion +I judged to be a parishioner, for she was what ladies are apt to +describe as “not quite”; that is to say, her social level appeared to +appertain to the lower strata of the middle-class. But she was a fine, +strapping girl, very sweet-faced and winsome, quiet and gentle in +manner and obviously in deep trouble, for her clear grey eyes—fixed +earnestly, almost devouringly, on Thorndyke—were reddened and +swimming with unshed tears. +</p> + +<p> +“We have sought your aid, Dr. Thorndyke,” the clergyman began, “on the +advice of my friend, Mr. Brodribb, who happened to call on me on some +legal business. He assured me that you would be able to solve our +difficulties if it were humanly possible, so I have come to lay those +difficulties before you. I pray to God that you may be able to help +us, for my poor young friend here, Miss Markham, is in a most terrible +position, as you will understand when I tell you that her future +husband, a most admirable young man named Robert Fletcher, is in the +custody of the police, charged with robbery and murder.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke nodded gravely, and the clergyman continued: +</p> + +<p> +“I had better tell you exactly what has happened. The dead man is one +Joseph Riggs, a maternal uncle of Fletcher’s, a strange, eccentric +man, solitary, miserly, and of a violent, implacable temper. He was +quite well-to-do, though penurious and haunted constantly by an absurd +fear of poverty. His nephew, Robert, was apparently his only known +relative, and, under his will, was his sole heir. Recently, however, +Robert has become engaged to my friend, Miss Lilian, and this +engagement was violently opposed by his uncle, who had repeatedly +urged him to make, what he called a profitable marriage. For Miss +Lilian is a dowerless maiden—dowerless save for those endowments with +which God has been pleased to enrich her, and which her future husband +has properly prized above mere material wealth. However, Riggs +declared, in his brutal way, that he was not going to leave his +property to the husband of a shop-woman, and that Robert might look +out for a wife with money or be struck out of his will. +</p> + +<p> +“The climax was reached yesterday when Robert, in response to a +peremptory summons, went to see his uncle. Mr. Riggs was in a very +intractable mood. He demanded that Robert should break off his +engagement unconditionally and at once, and when Robert bluntly +insisted on his right to choose his own wife the old man worked +himself up into a furious rage, shouting, cursing, using the most +offensive language and even uttering threats of personal violence. +Finally, he drew his gold watch from his pocket and laid it with its +chain on the table; then, opening a drawer, he took out a bundle of +bearer bonds and threw them down by the watch. +</p> + +<p> +“ ‘There, my friend,’ said he, ‘that is your inheritance. That is all +you will get from me, living or dead. Take it and go, and don’t let me +ever set eyes on you again.’ +</p> + +<p> +“At first Robert refused to accept the gift, but his uncle became so +violent that eventually, for peace’ sake, he took the watch and the +bonds, intending to return them later, and went away. He left at +half-past five, leaving his uncle alone in the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“How was that?” Thorndyke asked. “Was there no servant?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Riggs kept no resident servant. The young woman who did his +housework came at half-past eight in the morning and left at half-past +four. Yesterday she waited until five to get tea ready, but then, as +the uproar in the sitting-room was still unabated, she thought it best +to go. She was afraid to go in to lay the tea-things. +</p> + +<p> +“This morning, when she arrived at the house, she found the front door +unlocked, as it always was during the day. On entering, her attention +was at once attracted by two or three little pools of blood on the +floor of the hall, or passage. Somewhat alarmed by this, she looked +into the sitting-room, and finding no one there, and being impressed +by the silence in the house, she went along the passage to a back +room—a sort of study or office, which was usually kept locked when +Mr. Riggs was not in it. Now, however, it was unlocked and the door +was ajar; so having first knocked and receiving no answer, she pushed +open the door and looked in; and there, to her horror, she saw her +employer lying on the floor, apparently dead, with a wound on the side +of his head and a pistol on the floor by his side. +</p> + +<p> +“Instantly she turned and rushed out of the house, and she was running +up the street in search of a policeman when she encountered me at a +corner and burst out with her dreadful tidings. I walked with her to +the police station, and as we went she told me what had happened on +the previous afternoon. Naturally, I was profoundly shocked and also +alarmed, for I saw that—rightly or wrongly—suspicion must +immediately fall on Robert Fletcher. The servant, Rose Turnmill, took +it for granted that he had murdered her master; and when we found the +station inspector and Rose had repeated her statement to him, it was +evident that he took the same view. +</p> + +<p> +“With him and a sergeant, we went back to the house; but on the way we +met Mr. Brodribb, who was staying at the ‘White Lion’ and had just +come out for a walk. I told him, rapidly, what had occurred and begged +him to come with us, which, with the inspector’s consent, he did; and +as we walked I explained to him the awful position that Robert +Fletcher might be placed in, and asked him to advise me what to do. +But, of course, there was nothing to be said or done until we had seen +the body and knew whether any suspicion rested on Robert. +</p> + +<p> +“We found the man Riggs lying, as Rose had said. He was quite dead, +cold and stiff. There was a pistol wound on the right temple, and a +pistol lay on the floor at his right side. A little blood—but not +much—had trickled from the wound and lay in a small pool on the +oil-cloth. The door of an iron safe was open and a bunch of keys hung +from the lock; and on a desk one or two share certificates were spread +out. On searching the dead man’s pockets it was found that the gold +watch which the servant told us he usually carried was missing, and +when Rose went to the bedroom to see if it was there, it was nowhere +to be found. +</p> + +<p> +“Apart from the watch, however, the appearances suggested that the man +had taken his own life. But against this view was the blood on the +hall floor. The dead man appeared to have fallen at once from the +effects of the shot, and there had been very little bleeding. Then how +came the blood in the hall? The inspector decided that it could not +have been the blood of the deceased; and when we examined it and saw +that there were several little pools and that they seemed to form a +track towards the street door, he was convinced that the blood had +fallen from some person who had been wounded and was escaping from the +house. And, under the circumstances, he was bound to assume that that +person was Robert Fletcher; and on that assumption, he despatched the +sergeant forthwith to arrest Robert. +</p> + +<p> +“On this I held a consultation with Mr. Brodribb, who pointed out that +the case turned principally on the blood in the hall. If it was the +blood of deceased, and the absence of the watch could be explained, a +verdict of suicide could be accepted. But if it was the blood of some +other person, that fact would point to murder. The question, he said, +would have to be settled, if possible, and his advice to me, if I +believed Robert to be innocent—which, from my knowledge of him, I +certainly did—was this: Get a couple of small, clean, labelled +bottles from a chemist and—with the inspector’s consent—put in one a +little of the blood from the hall and in the other some of the blood +of the deceased. Seal them both in the inspector’s presence and mine +and take them up to Dr. Thorndyke. If it is possible to answer the +question, Are they or are they not from the same person? he will +answer it. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, the inspector made no objection, so I did what he advised. And +here are the specimens. I trust they may tell us what we want to +know.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Mr. Foxley took from his attaché-case a small cardboard box, and +opening it, displayed two little wide-mouthed bottles carefully packed +in cotton wool. Lifting them out tenderly, he placed them on the table +before Thorndyke. They were both neatly corked, sealed—with +Brodribb’s seal, as I noticed—and labelled; the one inscribed “Blood +of Joseph Riggs,” and the other “Blood of unknown origin,” and both +signed “Arthur Foxley” and dated. At the bottom of each was a small +mass of gelatinous blood-clot. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked a little dubiously at the two bottles, and addressing +the clergyman, said: +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid Mr. Brodribb has rather overestimated our resources. +There is no known method by which the blood of one person can be +distinguished with certainty from that of another.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear, dear!” exclaimed Mr. Foxley. “How disappointing! Then these +specimens are useless, after all?” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t say that; but it is in the highest degree improbable that +they will yield any information. You must build no expectations on +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you will examine them and see if anything is to be gleaned,” the +parson urged, persuasively. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I will examine them. But you realize that if they should yield +any evidence, that evidence might be unfavourable?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; Mr. Brodribb pointed that out, but we are willing to take the +risk, and so, I may say, is Robert Fletcher, to whom I put the +question.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you have seen Mr. Fletcher since the discovery?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I saw him at the police station after his arrest. It was then +that he gave me—and also the police—the particulars that I have +repeated to you. He had to make a statement, as the dead man’s watch +and the bonds were found in his possession.” +</p> + +<p> +“With regard to the pistol. Has it been identified?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It is an old-fashioned derringer which no one has ever seen +before, so there is no evidence as to whose property it was.” +</p> + +<p> +“And as to those share certificates which you spoke of as lying on the +desk. Do you happen to remember what they were?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, they were West African mining shares; Abusum Pa-pa was the name, +I think.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said Thorndyke,” Mr. Riggs had been losing money. The Abusum +Pa-pa Company has just gone into liquidation. Do you know if anything +had been taken from the safe?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible to say, but apparently not, as there was a good deal +of money in the cash-box, which we unlocked and inspected. But we +shall hear more to-morrow at the inquest, and I trust we shall hear +something there from you. But in any case I hope you will attend to +watch the proceedings on behalf of poor Fletcher. And if possible, to +be present at the autopsy at eleven o’clock. Can you manage that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. And I shall come down early enough to make an inspection of the +premises if the police will give the necessary facilities.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Foxley thanked him effusively, and when the details as to the +trains had been arranged, our clients rose to depart. Thorndyke shook +their hands cordially, and as he bade farewell to Miss Markham he +murmured a few words of encouragement. She looked up at him gratefully +and appealingly as she naïvely held his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“You will try to help us, Dr. Thorndyke, won’t you?” she urged. “And +you will examine that blood very, very carefully. Promise that you +will. Remember that poor Robert’s life may hang upon what you can tell +about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I realize that, Miss Markham,” he replied gently, “and I promise you +that the specimens shall be most thoroughly examined; and further, +that no stone shall be left unturned in my endeavours to bring the +truth to light.” +</p> + +<p> +At his answer, spoken with infinite kindliness and sympathy, her eyes +filled and she turned away with a few broken words of thanks, and the +good clergyman—himself not unmoved by the little episode—took her +arm and led her to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I remarked as their retreating footsteps died away, “old +Brodribb’s enthusiasm seems to have let you in for a queer sort of +task; and I notice that you appear to have accepted Fletcher’s +statement.” +</p> + +<p> +“Without prejudice,” he replied. “I don’t know Fletcher, but the +balance of probabilities is in his favour. Still, that blood-track in +the hall is a curious feature. It certainly requires explanation.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does, indeed!” I exclaimed, “and you have got to find the +explanation! Well, I wish you joy of the job. I suppose you will carry +out the farce to the bitter end as you have promised?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” he replied. “But it is hardly a farce. I should have +looked the specimens over in any case. One never knows what +illuminating fact a chance observation may bring into view.” +</p> + +<p> +I smiled sceptically. +</p> + +<p> +“The fact that you are asked to ascertain is that these two samples of +blood came from the same person. If there are any means of proving +that, they are unknown to me. I should have said it was an +impossibility.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” he rejoined, “you are quite right, speaking academically +and in general terms. No method of identifying the blood of individual +persons has hitherto been discovered. But yet I can imagine the +possibility, in particular and exceptional cases, of an actual, +personal identification by means of blood. What does my learned friend +think?” +</p> + +<p> +“He thinks that his imagination is not equal to the required effort,” +I answered; and with that I picked up my brief bag and went forth to +my duties at the courts. +</p> + +<p> +That Thorndyke would keep his promise to poor Lilian Markham was a +foregone conclusion, preposterous as the examination seemed. But even +my long experience of my colleague’s scrupulous conscientiousness had +not prepared me for the spectacle which met my eyes when I returned to +our chambers. On the table stood the microscope, flanked by three +slide-boxes. Each box held six trays, and each tray held six slides—a +hundred and eight slides in all! +</p> + +<p> +But why three boxes? I opened one. The slides—carefully mounted +blood-films—were labelled “Joseph Riggs.” Those in the second box +were labelled, “Blood from hall floor.” But when I opened the third +box, I beheld a collection of empty slides labelled “Robert Fletcher”! +</p> + +<p> +I chuckled aloud. Prodigious! Thorndyke was going even one better than +his promise. He was not only going to examine—probably had +examined—the two samples produced; he was actually going to collect a +third sample for himself! +</p> + +<p> +I picked out one of Mr. Riggs’s slides and laid it on the stage of the +microscope. Thorndyke seemed to have been using a low-power +objective—the inch-and-a-half. After a glance through this, I swung +round the nose-piece to the high power. And then I got a further +surprise. The brightly-coloured “white” corpuscles showed that +Thorndyke had actually been to the trouble of staining the films with +eosin! Again I murmured, “Prodigious!” and put the slide back in its +box. For, of course, it showed just what one expected: blood—or +rather, broken-up blood-clot. From its appearance, I could not even +have sworn that it was human blood. +</p> + +<p> +I had just closed the box when Thorndyke entered the room. His quick +eye at once noted the changed objective and he remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“I see you have been having a look at the specimens.” +</p> + +<p> +“A specimen,” I corrected. “Enough is as good as a feast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Blessed are they who are easily satisfied,” he retorted; and then he +added: “I have altered my arrangements, though I needn’t interfere +with yours. I shall go down to Southaven to-night; in fact, I am +starting in a few minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“For several reasons. I want to make sure of the post-mortem to-morrow +morning, I want to pick up any further facts that are available, and +finally, I want to prepare a set of blood-films from Robert Fletcher. +We may as well make the series complete,” he added with a smile, to +which I replied by a broad grin. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Thorndyke,” I protested, “I’m surprised at you, at your age, +too. She is a nice girl, but she isn’t so beautiful as to justify a +hundred and eight blood-films.” +</p> + +<p> +I accompanied him to the taxi, followed by Polton, who carried his +modest luggage, and then returned to speculate on his probable plan of +campaign. For, of course, he had one. His purposive, resolute manner +told me that he had seen farther into this case than I had. I accepted +that as natural and inevitable. Indeed, I may admit that my +disrespectful badinage covered a belief in his powers hardly second +even to old Brodribb’s. I was, in fact, almost prepared to discover +that those preposterous blood-films had, after all, yielded some +“illuminating fact” which had sent him hurrying down to Southaven in +search of corroboration. +</p> + +<p> +When I alighted from the train on the following day at a little past +noon, I found him waiting on the platform, ready to conduct me to his +hotel for an early lunch. +</p> + +<p> +“All goes well, so far,” he reported. “I attended the post-mortem, and +examined the wound thoroughly. The pistol was held in the right hand +not more than two inches from the head; probably quite close, for the +skin is scorched and heavily tattooed with black powder grains. I find +that Riggs was right-handed. So the prima facie probabilities are in +favour of suicide; and the recent loss of money suggests a reasonable +motive.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what about that blood in the hall?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, we have disposed of that. I completed the blood-film series last +night.” +</p> + +<p> +I looked at him quickly to see if he was serious or only playing a +facetious return-shot. But his face was as a face of wood. +</p> + +<p> +“You are an exasperating old devil, Thorndyke!” I exclaimed with +conviction. Then, knowing that cross-examination would be futile, I +asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What are we going to do after lunch?” +</p> + +<p> +“The inspector is going to show us over ‘the scene of the tragedy,’ as +the newspapers would express it.” +</p> + +<p> +I noted gratefully that he had reserved this item for me, and +dismissed professional topics for the time being, concentrating my +attention on the old-world, amphibious streets through which we were +walking. There is always something interesting in the aspect of a +sea-port town, even if it is only a small one like Southaven. +</p> + +<p> +The inspector arrived with such punctuality that he found us still at +the table and was easily induced to join us with a cup of coffee and +to accept a cigar—administered by Thorndyke, as I suspected, with the +object of hindering conversation. I could see that his interest in my +colleague was intense and not unmingled with awe, a fact which, in +conjunction with the cigar, restrained him from any undue +manifestations of curiosity, but not from continuous, though furtive, +observation of my friend. Indeed, when we arrived at the late Mr. +Riggs’s house, I was secretly amused by the close watch that he kept +on Thorndyke’s movements, unsensational as the inspection turned out +to be. +</p> + +<p> +The house, itself, presented very little of interest excepting its +picturesque, old-world exterior, which fronted on a quiet by-street +and was furnished with a deep bay-window, which—as Thorndyke +ascertained—commanded a clear view of the street from end to end. It +was a rather shabby, neglected little house, as might have been +expected, and our examination of it yielded, so far as I could see, +only a single fact of any significance: which was that there appeared +to be no connexion whatever between the blood-stain on the study floor +and the train of large spots from the middle of the hall to the street +door. And on this piece of evidence—definitely unfavourable from our +point of view—Thorndyke concentrated his attention when he had made a +preliminary survey. +</p> + +<p> +Closely followed by the watchful inspector, he browsed round the +little room, studying every inch of the floor between the blood-stain +and the door. The latter he examined minutely from top to bottom, +especially as to the handle, the jambs, and the lintel. Then he went +out into the hall, scrutinizing the floor inch by inch, poring over +the walls and even looking behind the framed prints that hung on them. +A reflector lamp suspended by a nail on the wall received minute and +prolonged attention, as did also a massive lamp-hook screwed into one +of the beams of the low ceiling, of which Thorndyke remarked as he +stooped to pass under it, that it must have been fixed there by a +dwarf. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” the inspector agreed, “and a fool. A swinging lamp hung on that +hook would have blocked the whole fairway. There isn’t too much room +as it is. What a pity we weren’t a bit more careful about footprints +in this place. There are plenty of tracks of wet feet here on this +oil-cloth; faint, but you could have made them out all right if they +hadn’t been all on top of one another. There’s Mr. Foxley’s, the +girl’s, mine, and the men who carried out the body, but I’m hanged if +I can tell which is which. It’s a regular mix up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I agreed, “it is all very confused. But I notice one rather odd +thing. There are several faint traces of a large right foot, but I +can’t see any sign of the corresponding left foot. Can you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps this is it,” said Thorndyke, pointing to a large, vague oval +mark. “I have noticed that it seems to occur in some sort of connexion +with the big right foot; but I must admit that it is not a very +obvious footprint.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t have taken it for a footprint at all, or at any rate, not +a human footprint. It is more like the spoor of some big animal.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is,” Thorndyke agreed; “but whatever it is, it seems to have been +here before any of the others arrived. You notice that wherever it +occurs, it seems to have been trodden on by some of the others.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I had noticed that, and the same is true of the big right foot, +so it seems probable that they are connected, as you say. But I am +hanged if I can make anything of it. Can you, inspector?” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector shook his head. He could not recognize the mark as a +footprint, but he could see very plainly that he had been a fool not +to have taken more care to protect the floor. +</p> + +<p> +When the examination of the hall was finished, Thorndyke opened the +door and looked at the big, flat doorstep. +</p> + +<p> +“What was the weather like, here, on Wednesday evening?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Showery,” the inspector replied; “and there were one or two heavy +showers during the night. You were noticing that there are no +blood-tracks on the doorstep. But there wouldn’t be in any case; for +if a man had come out of this door dropping blood, the blood would +have dropped on wet stone and got washed away at once.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke admitted the truth of this; and so another item of +favourable evidence was extinguished. The overwhelming probability +that the blood in the hall was that of some person other than the +deceased remained undisturbed; and I could not see that a single fact +had been elicited by our inspection of the house that was in any way +helpful to our client. Indeed, it appeared to me that there was +absolutely no case for the defence, and I even asked myself whether we +were not, in fact, merely trying to fudge up a defence for an +obviously guilty man. It was not like Thorndyke to do that. But how +did the case stand? There was a suggestion of suicide, but a clear +possibility of homicide. There was strong evidence that a second +person had been in the house, and that person appeared to have +received a wound. But a wound suggested a struggle; and the servant’s +evidence was to the effect that when she left the house a violent +altercation was in progress. The deceased was never again seen alive; +and the other party to the quarrel had been found with property of the +dead man in his possession. Moreover, there was a clear motive for the +crime, stupid as that crime was. For the dead man had threatened to +revoke his will; but as he had presumably not done so, his death left +the will still operative. In short, everything pointed to the guilt of +our client, Robert Fletcher. +</p> + +<p> +I had just reached this not very gratifying conclusion when a +statement of Thorndyke’s shattered my elaborate summing up into +impalpable fragments. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose, sir,” said the inspector, “there isn’t anything that you +would care to tell us, as you are for the defence. But we are not +hostile to Fletcher. In fact, he hasn’t been charged. He is only being +detained in custody until we have heard what turns up at the inquest. +I know you have examined that blood that Mr. Foxley took, and +Fletcher’s blood, too, and you’ve seen the premises. We have given all +the facilities that we could, and if you could give us any sort of +hint that might be useful—well, I should be very much obliged.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke reflected for a few moments. Then he replied: +</p> + +<p> +“There is no reason for secrecy in regard to you, inspector, who have +been so helpful and friendly, so I will be quite frank. I have +examined both samples of blood and Fletcher’s, and I have inspected +the premises, and what I am able to say definitely is this: the blood +in the hall is not the blood of the deceased——” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” exclaimed the inspector, “I was afraid it wasn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“And it is not the blood of Robert Fletcher.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it now! Well, I am glad to hear that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover,” continued Thorndyke, “it was shed well after nine o’clock +at night, probably not earlier than midnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“There, now!” the inspector exclaimed, with an admiring glance at +Thorndyke, “just think of that. See what it is to be a man of science! +I suppose, sir, you couldn’t give us any sort of description of the +person who dropped that blood in the hall?” +</p> + +<p> +Staggered as I had been by Thorndyke’s astonishing statements, I could +not repress a grin at the inspector’s artless question. But the grin +faded rather abruptly as Thorndyke replied in matter-of-fact tones: +</p> + +<p> +“A detailed description is, of course, impossible. I can only sketch +out the probabilities. But if you should happen to meet with a +negro—a tall negro with a bandaged head or a contused wound of the +scalp and a swollen leg—you had better keep your eye on him. The leg +which is swollen is probably the left.” +</p> + +<p> +The inspector was thrilled; and so was I, for that matter. The thing +was incredible; but yet I knew that Thorndyke’s amazing deductions +were the products of perfectly orthodox scientific methods. Only I +could form no sort of guess as to how they had been arrived at. A +negro’s blood is no different from any other person’s, and certainly +affords no clue to his height or the condition of his legs. I could +make nothing of it; and as the dialogue and the inspector’s +note-takings brought us to the little town hall in which the inquest +was to be held, I dismissed the puzzle until such time as Thorndyke +chose to solve it. +</p> + +<p> +When we entered the town hall we found everything in readiness for the +opening of the proceedings. The jury were already in their places and +the coroner was just about to take his seat at the head of the long +table. We accordingly slipped on to the two chairs that were found for +us by the inspector, and the latter took his place behind the jury and +facing us. Near to him Mr. Foxley and Miss Markham were seated, and +evidently hailed our arrival with profound relief, each of them +smiling us a silent greeting. A professional-looking man sitting next +to Thorndyke I assumed to be the medical witness, and a rather +good-looking young man who sat apart with a police constable I +identified as Robert Fletcher. +</p> + +<p> +The evidence of the “common” witnesses who deposed to the general +facts, told us nothing that we did not already know, excepting that it +was made clear that Fletcher had left his uncle’s house not later than +seven o’clock and that thereafter until the following morning his +whereabouts were known. The medical witness was cautious, and kept an +uneasy eye on Thorndyke. The wound which caused the death of deceased +might have been inflicted by himself or by some other person. He had +originally given the probable time of death as six or seven o’clock on +Wednesday evening. He now admitted—in reply to a question from +Thorndyke—that he had not taken the temperature of the body, and that +the rigidity and other conditions were not absolutely inconsistent +with a considerably later time of death. Death might even have +occurred after midnight. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of this admission, however, the sum of the evidence tended +strongly to implicate Fletcher, and one or two questions from jurymen +suggested a growing belief in his guilt. I had no doubt whatever that +if the case had been put to the jury at this stage, a unanimous +verdict of “wilful murder” would have been the result. But, as the +medical witness returned to his seat, the coroner fixed an inquisitive +eye on Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“You have not been summoned as a witness, Dr. Thorndyke,” said he, +“but I understand that you have made certain investigations in this +case. Are you able to throw any fresh light on the circumstances of +the death of the deceased, Joseph Riggs?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “I am in a position to give important and +material evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon he was sworn, and the coroner, still watching him curiously, +said: +</p> + +<p> +“I am informed that you have examined samples of the blood of deceased +and the blood which was found in the hall of deceased’s house. Did you +examine them, and if so, what was the object of the examination?” +</p> + +<p> +“I examined both samples and also samples of the blood of Robert +Fletcher. The object was to ascertain whether the blood on the hall +floor was the blood of the deceased or of Robert Fletcher.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner glanced at the medical witness, and a faint smile appeared +on the face of each. +</p> + +<p> +“And did you,” the former asked in a slightly ironical tone, “form any +opinion on the subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“I ascertained definitely that the blood in the hall was neither that +of the deceased nor that of Robert Fletcher.” +</p> + +<p> +The coroner’s eyebrows went up, and once more he glanced significantly +at the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” he demanded incredulously, “is it possible to distinguish the +blood of one person from that of another?” +</p> + +<p> +“Usually it is not, but in certain exceptional cases it is. This +happened to be an exceptional case.” +</p> + +<p> +“In what respect?” +</p> + +<p> +“It happened,” Thorndyke replied, “that the person whose blood was +found in the hall suffered from the parasitic disease known as +filariasis. His blood was infested with swarms of a minute worm named +<i>Filaria nocturna</i>. I have here,” he continued, taking out of his +research-case the two bottles and the three boxes, “thirty-six mounted +specimens of this blood, and in every one of them one or more of the +parasites is to be seen. I have also thirty-six mounted specimens each +of the blood of the deceased and the blood of Robert Fletcher. In not +one of these specimens is a single parasite to be found. Moreover, I +have examined Robert Fletcher and the body of the deceased, and can +testify that no sign of filarial disease was to be discovered in +either. Hence it is certain that the blood found in the hall was not +the blood of either of these two persons.” +</p> + +<p> +The ironic smile had faded from the coroner’s face. He was evidently +deeply impressed, and his manner was quite deferential as he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Do these very remarkable observations of yours lead to any further +inferences?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “They render it certain that this blood was +shed not earlier than nine o’clock and probably nearer midnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really!” the astonished coroner exclaimed. “Now, how is it possible +to fix the time in that exact manner?” +</p> + +<p> +“By inference from the habits of the parasite,” Thorndyke explained. +“This particular filaria is distributed by the mosquito, and its +habits are adapted to the habits of the mosquito. During the day, the +worms are not found in the blood; they remain hidden in the tissues of +the body. But about nine o’clock at night they begin to migrate from +the tissues into the blood, and remain in the blood during the hours +when the mosquitoes are active. Then, about six o’clock in the +morning, they leave the blood and migrate back into the tissues. +</p> + +<p> +“There is another very similar species—<i>Filaria diurna</i>—which has +exactly opposite habits, adapted to day-flying suctorial insects. It +appears in the blood about eleven in the forenoon and goes back into +the tissues about six o’clock in the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“Astonishing!” exclaimed the coroner. “Wonderful! By the way, the +parasites that you found could not, I suppose, have been <i>Filaria +diurna</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Thorndyke replied. “The time excludes that possibility. The +blood was certainly shed after six. They were undoubtedly <i>nocturna</i>, +and the large numbers found suggest a late hour. The parasites come +out of the tissues very gradually, and it is only about midnight that +they appear in the blood in really large numbers.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is very important,” said the coroner. “But does this disease +affect any particular class of persons?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “As the disease is confined to tropical +countries, the sufferers are naturally residents of the tropics, and +nearly always natives. In West Africa, for instance, it is common +among the negroes but practically unknown among the white residents.” +</p> + +<p> +“Should you say that there is a distinct probability that this unknown +person was a negro?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. But apart from the filariæ, there is direct evidence that he +was. Searching for some cause of the bleeding, I noticed a lamp-hook +screwed into the ceiling and low enough to strike a tall man’s head. I +examined it closely, and observed on it a dark, shiny mark, like a +blood-smear, and one or two short coiled hairs which I recognized as +the scalp-hairs of a negro. I have no doubt that the unknown man is a +negro, and that he has a wound of the scalp.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does filarial disease produce any effects that can be recognized?” +</p> + +<p> +“Frequently it does. One of the commonest effects produced by <i>Filaria +nocturna</i>, especially among negroes, is the condition known as +elephantiasis. This consists of an enormous swelling of the +extremities, most usually of one leg, including the foot; whence the +name. The leg and foot look like those of an elephant. As a matter of +fact, the negro who was in the hall suffered from elephantiasis of the +left leg. I observed prints of the characteristically deformed foot on +the oil-cloth covering the floor.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke’s evidence was listened to with intense interest by everyone +present, including myself. Indeed, so spell-bound was his audience +that one could have heard a pin drop; and the breathless silence +continued for some seconds after he had ceased speaking. Then, in the +midst of the stillness, I heard the door creak softly behind me. +</p> + +<p> +There was nothing particularly significant in the sound. But its +effects were amazing. Glancing at the inspector, who faced the door, I +saw his eyes open and his jaw drop until his face was a very mask of +astonishment. And as this expression was reflected on the faces of the +jurymen, the coroner and everyone present, excepting Thorndyke, whose +back was towards the door, I turned to see what had happened. And then +I was as astonished as the others. +</p> + +<p> +The door had been pushed open a few inches and a head thrust in—a +negro’s head, covered with a soiled and blood-stained rag forming a +rough bandage. As I gazed at the black, shiny, inquisitive face, the +man pushed the door farther open and shuffled into the room; and +instantly there arose on all sides a soft rustle and an inarticulate +murmur followed by breathless silence, while every eye was riveted on +the man’s left leg. +</p> + +<p> +It certainly was a strange, repulsive-looking member, its monstrous +bulk exposed to view through the slit trouser and its great shapeless +foot—shoeless, since no shoe could have contained it—rough and horny +like the foot of an elephant. But it was tragic and pitiable, too; for +the man, apart from this horrible excrescence, was a fine, big, +athletic-looking fellow. +</p> + +<p> +The coroner was the first to recover. Addressing Thorndyke, but +keeping an eye on the negro, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Your evidence, then, amounts to this: On the night of Joseph Riggs’s +death, there was a stranger in the house. That stranger was a negro, +who seems to have wounded his head and who, you say, had a swelled +left leg.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Thorndyke admitted, “that is the substance of my evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more a hush fell on the room. The negro stood near the door, +rolling his eyes to and fro over the assembly as if uneasily conscious +that everyone was looking at him. Suddenly, he shuffled up to the foot +of the table and addressed the coroner in deep, buzzing, resonant +tones. +</p> + +<p> +“You tink I kill dat ole man! I no kill um. He kill himself. I look +um.” +</p> + +<p> +Having made this statement, he rolled his eyes defiantly round the +court, and then turned his face expectantly towards the coroner, who +said: +</p> + +<p> +“You say you know that Mr. Riggs killed himself?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yas. I look um. He shoot himself. You tink I shoot um. I tell you I +no shoot um. Why I fit kill this man? I no sabby um.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said the coroner, “if you know that he killed himself, you +must tell us all that you know; and you must swear to tell us the +truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yas,” the negro agreed, “I tell you eberyting one time. I tell you de +troof. Dat ole man kill himself.” +</p> + +<p> +When the coroner had explained to him that he was not bound to make +any statement that would incriminate him, as he still elected to give +evidence, he was sworn and proceeded to make his statement with +curious fluency and self-possession. +</p> + +<p> +“My name Robert Bruce. Dat my English name. My country name Kwaku +Mensah. I live for Winnebah on de Gold Coast. Dis time I cook’s mate +for dat steamer <i>Leckie</i>. On Wednesday night I lay in my bunk. I no +fit sleep. My leg he chook me. I look out of de porthole. Plenty moon +live. In my country when de moon big, peoples walk about. So I get up. +I go ashore to walk about de town. Den de rain come. Plenty rain. Rain +no good for my sickness. So I try for open house doors. No fit. All +doors locked. Den I come to dis ole man’s house. I turn de handle. De +door open. I go in. I look in one room. All dark. Nobody live. Den I +look annudder room. De door open a little. Light live inside. I no +like dat. I tink, spose somebody come out and see me, he tink I come +for teef someting. So I tink I go away. +</p> + +<p> +“Den someting make ‘Ping!’ same like gun. I hear someting fall down in +dat room. I go to de door and I sing out, ‘Who live in dere?’ Nobody +say nutting. So I open de door and look in. De room full ob smoke. I +look dat ole man on de floor. I look dat pistol. I sabby dat ole man +kill himself. Den I frighten too much. I run out. De place all dark. +Someting knock my head. He make blood come plenty. I go back for ship. +I no say nutting to nobody. Dis day I hear peoples talk ’bout dis +inquess to find out who kill dat ole man. So I come to hear what +peoples say. I hear dat gentleman say I kill dat ole man. So I tell +you eberyting. I tell you de troof. Finish.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know what time it was when you came ashore?” the coroner +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yas. When I come down de ladder I hear eight bells ring. I get back +to de ship jus’ before dey ring two bells in de middle watch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you came ashore at midnight and got back just before one +o’clock?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yas. Dat is what I say.” +</p> + +<p> +A few more questions put by the coroner having elicited nothing fresh, +the case was put briefly to the jury. +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard the evidence, gentlemen, and most remarkable evidence +it was. Like myself, you must have been deeply impressed by the +amazing skill with which Dr. Thorndyke reconstructed the personality +of the unknown visitor to that house, and even indicated correctly the +very time of the visit, from an examination of a mere chance +blood-stain. As to the statement of Kwaku Mensah, I can only say that +I see no reason to doubt its truth. You will note that it is in +complete agreement with Dr. Thorndyke’s evidence, and it presents no +inconsistencies or improbabilities. Possibly the police may wish to +make some further inquiries, but for our purposes it is the evidence +of an eyewitness, and as such must be given full weight. With these +remarks, I leave you to consider your verdict.” +</p> + +<p> +The jury took but a minute or two to deliberate. Indeed, only one +verdict was possible if the evidence was to be accepted, and that was +agreed on unanimously—suicide whilst temporarily insane. As soon as +it was announced, the inspector, formally and with congratulations, +released Fletcher from custody, and presently retired in company with +the negro to make a few inquiries on board the ship. +</p> + +<p> +The rising of the court was the signal for a wild demonstration of +enthusiasm and gratitude to Thorndyke. To play his part efficiently in +that scene he would have needed to be furnished, like certain +repulsive Indian deities, with an unlimited outfit of arms. For +everyone wanted to shake his hand, and two of them—Mr. Foxley and +Miss Markham—did so with such pertinacity as entirely to exclude the +other candidates. +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +“I can never thank you enough,” Miss Markham exclaimed, with swimming +eyes, “if I should live to be a hundred. But I shall think of you with +gratitude every day of my life. Whenever I look at Robert, I shall +remember that his liberty, and even his life, are your gifts.” +</p> + +<p> +Here she was so overcome by grateful emotion that she again seized and +pressed his hand. I think she was within an ace of kissing him; but +being, perhaps, doubtful how he would take it, compromised by kissing +Robert instead. And, no doubt, it was just as well. +</p> + + +<h2 id="ch09"> +IX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">GLEANINGS FROM THE WRECKAGE</span> +</h2> + +<p class="noindent"> +<span class="sc">There</span> was a time, and not so very long ago, when even the main +streets of London, after midnight, were as silent as—not the grave; +that is an unpleasant simile. Besides, who has any experience of +conditions in the grave? But they were nearly as silent as the streets +of a village. Then the nocturnal pedestrian could go his way +encompassed and soothed by quiet, which was hardly disturbed by the +rumble of a country wagon wending to market or the musical tinkle of +the little bells on the collar of the hansom-cab horse sedately +drawing some late reveller homeward. +</p> + +<p> +Very different is the state of those streets nowadays. Long after the +hour when the electric trams have ceased from troubling and the motor +omnibuses are at rest, the heavy road transport from the country +thunders through the streets; the air is rent by the howls of the +electric hooter, and belated motor-cyclists fly past, stuttering +explosively like perambulant Lewis guns with an inexhaustible charge. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get into the by-streets,” said Thorndyke, as a car sped past +us uttering sounds suggestive of a dyspeptic dinosaur. “We don’t want +our conversation seasoned with mechanical objurgations. In the +back-streets it is still possible to hear oneself speak and forget the +march of progress.” +</p> + +<p> +We turned into a narrow by-way with the confidence of the born and +bred Londoner in the impossibility of losing our direction, and began +to thread the intricate web of streets in the neighbourhood of a +canal. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a remarkable thing,” Thorndyke resumed anon, “that every new +application of science seems to be designed to render the environment +of civilized man more and more disagreeable. If the process goes much +farther, as it undoubtedly will, we shall presently find ourselves +looking back wistfully at the Stone-age as the golden age of human +comfort.” +</p> + +<p> +At this point his moralizing was cut short by a loud, sharp explosion. +We both stopped and looked about from the parapet of the bridge that +we were crossing. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite like old times,” Thorndyke remarked. “Carries one back to 1915, +when friend Fritz used to call on us. Ah! There is the place; the top +story of that tall building across the canal.” He pointed as he spoke +to a factory-like structure, from the upper windows of which a lurid +light shone and rapidly grew brighter. +</p> + +<p> +“It must be down the next turning,” said I, quickening my pace. But he +restrained me, remarking: “There is no hurry. That was the sound of +high explosive, and those flames suggest nitro compounds burning. +<i>Festina lente.</i> There may be some other packets of high explosives.” +</p> + +<p> +He had hardly finished speaking when a flash of dazzling violet light +burst from the burning building. The windows flew out bodily, the roof +opened in places, and almost at the same moment the clang of a violent +explosion shook the ground under our feet, a puff of wind stirred our +hair, and then came a clatter of falling glass and slates. +</p> + +<p> +We made our way at a leisurely pace towards the scene of the +explosion, through streets lighted up by the ruddy glare from the +burning factory. But others were less cautious. In a few minutes the +street was filled by one of those crowds which, in London, seem +mysteriously to spring up in an instant where but a moment before not +a person was to be seen. Before we had reached the building, a +fire-engine had rumbled past us, and already a sprinkling of policemen +had appeared as if, like the traditional frogs, they had dropped from +the clouds. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of the ferocity of its outbreak, the fire seemed to be no +great matter, for even as we looked and before the fire-hose was fully +run out, the flames began to die down. Evidently, they had been dealt +with by means of extinguishers within the building, and the services +of the engine would not be required after all. Noting this flat ending +to what had seemed so promising a start, we were about to move off and +resume our homeward journey when I observed a uniformed inspector who +was known to us, and who, observing us at the same instant, made his +way towards us through the crowd. +</p> + +<p> +“You remind me, sir,” said he, when he had wished us good evening, “of +the stories of the vultures that make their appearance in the sky from +nowhere when a camel drops dead in the desert. I don’t mean anything +uncomplimentary,” he hastened to add. “I was only thinking of the +wonderful instinct that has brought you to this very spot at this +identical moment, as if you had smelt a case afar off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then your imagination has misled you,” said Thorndyke, “for I haven’t +smelt a case, and I don’t smell one now. Fires are not in my +province.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” replied the inspector, “but bodies are, and the fireman +tells me that there is a dead man up there—or at least the remains of +one. I am going up to inspect. Do you care to come up with me?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke considered for a moment, but I knew what his answer would +be, and I was not mistaken. +</p> + +<p> +“As a matter of professional interest, I should,” he replied, “but I +don’t want to be summoned as a witness at the inquest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you don’t, sir,” the inspector agreed, “and I will see that +you are not summoned, unless an expert witness is wanted. I need not +mention that you have been here; but I should be glad of your opinion +for my own guidance in investigating the case.” +</p> + +<p> +He led us through the crowd to the door of the building, where we were +joined by a fireman—whose helmet I should have liked to borrow—by +whom we were piloted up the stairs. Half-way up we met the +night-watchman, carrying an exhausted extinguisher and a big electric +lantern, and he joined our procession, giving us the news as we +ascended. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all safe up above,” said he, “excepting the roof; and that isn’t +so very much damaged. The big windows saved it. They blew out and let +off the force of the explosion. The floor isn’t damaged at all. It’s +girder and concrete. But poor Mr. Manford caught it properly. He was +fairly blown to bits.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know how it happened?” the inspector asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t,” was the reply. “When I came on duty Mr. Manford was up +there in his private laboratory. Soon afterwards a friend of his—a +foreign gentleman of the name of Bilsky—came to see him. I took him +up, and then Mr. Manford said he had some business to do, and after +that he had got a longish job to do and would be working late. So he +said I might turn in and he would let me know when he had finished. +And he did let me know with a vengeance, poor chap! I lay down in my +clothes, and I hadn’t been asleep above a couple of hours when some +noise woke me up. Then there came a most almighty bang. I rushed for +an extinguisher and ran upstairs, and there I found the big laboratory +all ablaze, the windows blown out and the ceiling down. But it wasn’t +so bad as it looked. There wasn’t very much stuff up there; only the +experimental stuff, and that burned out almost at once. I got the rest +of the fire out in a few minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“What stuff is it that you are speaking of?” the inspector asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Celluloid, mostly, I think,” replied the watchman. “They make films +and other celluloid goods in the works. But Mr. Manford used to do +experiments in the material up in his laboratory. This time he was +working with alloys, melting them on the gas furnace. Dangerous thing +to do with all that inflammable stuff about. I don’t know what there +was up there, exactly. Some of it was celluloid, I could see by the +way it burned, but the Lord knows what it was that exploded. Some of +the raw stuff, perhaps.” +</p> + +<p> +At this point we reached the top floor, where a door blown off its +hinges and a litter of charred wood fragments filled the landing. +Passing through the yawning doorway, we entered the laboratory and +looked on a hideous scene of devastation. The windows were mere holes, +the ceiling a gaping space fringed with black and ragged lathing, +through which the damaged roof was visible by the light of the +watchman’s powerful lantern. The floor was covered with the fallen +plaster and fragments of blackened woodwork, but its own boards were +only slightly burnt in places, owing, no doubt, to their being +fastened directly to the concrete which formed the actual floor. +</p> + +<p> +“You spoke of some human remains,” said the inspector. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said the watchman, “you may well say ‘remains.’ Just come here.” +He led the way over the rubbish to a corner of the laboratory, where +he halted and threw the light of his lantern down on a brownish, +dusty, globular object that lay on the floor half buried in plaster. +“That’s all that’s left of poor Mr. Manford; that and a few other odd +pieces. I saw a hand over the other side.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke picked up the head and placed it on the blackened remnant of +a bench, where, with the aid of the watchman’s lantern and the +inspection lamp which I produced from our research-case, he examined +it curiously. It was extremely, but unequally, scorched. One ear was +completely shrivelled, and most of the face was charred to the bone. +But the other ear was almost intact; and though most of the hair was +burned away to the scalp, a tuft above the less-damaged ear was only +singed, so that it was possible to see that the hair had been black, +with here and there a stray white hair. +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke made no comments, but I noticed that he examined the +gruesome object minutely, taking nothing for granted. The inspector +noticed this, too; and when the examination was finished, looked at +him inquiringly. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything abnormal, sir?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Thorndyke; “nothing that is not accounted for by fire +and the explosion. I see he had no natural teeth, so he must have worn +a complete set of false teeth. That should help in the formal +identification, if the plates are not completely destroyed.” +</p> + +<p> +“There isn’t much need for identification,” said the watchman, “seeing +that there was nobody in the building but him and me. His friend went +away about half-past twelve. I heard Mr. Manford let him out.” +</p> + +<p> +“The doctor means at the inquest,” the inspector explained. “Somebody +has got to recognize the body if possible.” +</p> + +<p> +He took the watchman’s lantern, and throwing its light on the floor, +began to search among the rubbish. Very soon he disinterred from under +a heap of plaster the headless trunk. Both legs were attached, though +the right was charred below the knee and the foot blown off, and one +complete arm. The other arm—the right—was intact only to the elbow. +Here, again, the burning was very unequal. In some parts the clothing +had been burnt off or blown away completely; in others, enough was +left to enable the watchman to recognize it with certainty. One leg +was much more burnt than the other; and whereas the complete arm was +only scorched, the dismembered one was charred almost to the bone. +When the trunk had been carried to the bench and laid there beside the +head, the lights were turned on it for Thorndyke to make his +inspection. +</p> + +<p> +“It almost seems,” said the police officer, as the hand was being +examined, “as if one could guess how he was standing when the +explosion occurred. I think I can make out finger-marks—pretty dirty +ones, too—on the back of the hand, as if he had been standing with +his hands clasped together behind him while he watched something that +he was experimenting with.” The inspector glanced for confirmation at +Thorndyke, who nodded approvingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “I think you are right. They are very indistinct, but +the marks are grouped like fingers. The small mark near the wrist +suggests a little finger, and the separate one near the knuckle looks +like a fore-finger, while the remaining two marks are close together.” +He turned the hand over and continued: “And there, in the palm, just +between the roots of the third and fourth fingers, seems to be the +trace of a thumb. But they are all very faint. You have a quick eye, +inspector.” +</p> + +<p> +The gratified officer, thus encouraged, resumed his explorations among +the debris in company with the watchman—the fireman had retired after +a professional look round—leaving Thorndyke to continue his +examination of the mutilated corpse, at which I looked on +unsympathetically. For we had had a long day and I was tired and +longing to get home. At length I drew out my watch, and with a +portentous yawn, entered a mild protest. +</p> + +<p> +“It is nearly two o’clock,” said I. “Don’t you think we had better be +getting on? This really isn’t any concern of ours, and there doesn’t +seem to be anything in it, from our point of view.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only that we are keeping our intellectual joints supple,” Thorndyke +replied with a smile. “But it <i>is</i> getting late. Perhaps we had better +adjourn the inquiry.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment, however, the inspector discovered the missing +forearm—completely charred—with the fingerless remains of the hand, +and almost immediately afterwards the watchman picked up a dental +plate of some white metal, which seemed to be practically uninjured. +But our brief inspection of these objects elicited nothing of +interest, and having glanced at them, we took our departure, avoiding +on the stairs an eager reporter, all agog for “copy.” +</p> + +<p> +A few days later we received a visit, by appointment from a Mr. +Herdman, a solicitor who was unknown to us and who was accompanied by +the widow of Mr. James Manford, the victim of the explosion. In the +interval the inquest had been opened but had been adjourned for +further examination of the premises and the remains. No mention had +been made of our visit to the building, and so far as I knew nothing +had been said to anybody on the subject. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Herdman came to the point with business-like directness. +</p> + +<p> +“I have called,” he said, “to secure your services, if possible, in +regard to the matter of which I spoke in my letter. You have probably +seen an account of the disaster in the papers?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied Thorndyke. “I read the report of the inquest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you know the principal facts. The inquest, as you know, was +adjourned for three weeks. When it is resumed, I should like to retain +you to attend on behalf of Mrs. Manford.” +</p> + +<p> +“To watch the case on her behalf?” Thorndyke suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, not exactly,” replied Herdman. “I should ask you to inspect the +premises and the remains of poor Mr. Manford, so that, at the +adjourned inquest, you could give evidence to the effect that the +explosion and the death of Mr. Manford were entirely due to accident.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does anyone say that they were not?” Thorndyke asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No, certainly not,” Mr. Herdman replied hastily. “Not at all. But I +happened, quite by chance, to see the manager of the ‘Pilot’ Insurance +Society, on another matter, and I mentioned the case of Mr. Manford. +He then let drop a remark which made me slightly uneasy. He observed +that there was a suicide clause in the policy, and that the +possibility of suicide would have to be ruled out before the claim +could be settled. Which suggested a possible intention to contest the +claim.” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” said Thorndyke, “I need not point out to you that if he sets up +the theory of suicide, it is for him to prove it, not for you to +disprove it. Has anything transpired that would lend colour to such a +suggestion?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing material,” was the reply. “But we should feel more happy if +you could be present and give positive evidence that the death was +accidental.” +</p> + +<p> +“That,” said Thorndyke, “would be hardly possible. But my feeling is +that the suicide question is negligible. There is nothing to suggest +it, so far as I know. Is there anything known to you?” +</p> + +<p> +The solicitor glanced at his client and replied somewhat evasively: +</p> + +<p> +“We are anxious to secure ourselves. Mrs. Manford is left very badly +off, unless there is some personal property that we don’t know about. +If the insurance is not paid, she will be absolutely ruined. There +isn’t enough to pay the debts. And I think the suicide question might +be raised—even successfully—on several points. Manford had been +rather queer lately: jumpy and rather worried. Then, he was under +notice to terminate his engagement at the works. His finances were in +a confused state; goodness knows why, for he had a liberal salary. And +then there was some domestic trouble. Mrs. Manford had actually +consulted me about getting a separation. Some other woman, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to forget that,” said Mrs. Manford; “and it wasn’t that +which worried him. Quite the contrary. Since it began he had been +quite changed. So smart in his dress and so particular in his +appearance. He even took to dyeing his hair. I remember that he opened +a fresh bottle of dye the very morning before his death and took no +end of trouble putting it on. It wasn’t that entanglement that made +him jumpy. It was his money affairs. He had too many irons in the +fire.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke listened with patient attention to these rather irrelevant +details and inquired: “What sort of irons?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you,” said Herdman. “About three months ago he had need +for two thousand pounds; for what purpose, I can’t say, but Mrs. +Manford thinks it was to invest in certain valuables that he used to +purchase from time to time from a Russian dealer named Bilsky. At any +rate, he got this sum on short loan from a Mr. Clines, but meanwhile +arranged for a longer loan with a Mr. Elliott on a note of hand and an +agreement to insure his life for the amount. +</p> + +<p> +“As a matter of fact, the policy was made out in Elliott’s name, he +having proved an insurable interest. So if the insurance is paid, +Elliott is settled with. Otherwise the debt falls on the estate, which +would be disastrous; and to make it worse, the day before his death, +he drew out five hundred pounds—nearly the whole balance—as he was +expecting to see Mr. Bilsky, who liked to be paid in bank-notes. He +did see him, in fact, at the laboratory, but they couldn’t have done +any business, as no jewels were found.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the bank-notes?” +</p> + +<p> +“Burned with the body, presumably. He must have had them with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mentioned,” said Thorndyke, “that he occasionally bought jewels +from this Russian. What became of them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” replied Herdman, “there is a gleam of hope there. He had a safe +deposit somewhere. We haven’t located it yet, but we shall. There may +be quite a nice little nest-egg in it. But meanwhile there is the debt +to Elliott. He wrote to Manford about it a day or two ago. You have +the letter, I think,” he added, addressing Mrs. Manford, who thereupon +produced two envelopes from her handbag and laid them on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“This is Mr. Elliott’s letter,” she said. “Merely a friendly reminder, +you see, telling him that he is just off to the continent and that he +has given his wife a power of attorney to act in his absence.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke glanced through the letter and made a few notes of its +contents. Then he looked inquiringly at the other envelope. +</p> + +<p> +“That,” said Mrs. Manford, “is a photograph of my husband. I thought +it might help you if you were going to examine the body.” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke drew the portrait out and regarded it thoughtfully, I +recalled the shapeless, blackened fragments of its subject; and when +he passed it to me I inspected it with a certain grim interest, and +mentally compared it with those grisly remains. It was a commonplace +face, rather unsymmetrical—the nose was deflected markedly to the +left, and the left eye had a pronounced divergent squint. The bald +head, with an abundant black fringe and an irregular scar on the right +side of the forehead, sought compensation in a full beard and +moustache, both apparently jet-black. It was not an attractive +countenance, and it was not improved by a rather odd-shaped ear—long, +lobeless, and pointed above, like the ear of a satyr. +</p> + +<p> +“I realize your position,” said Thorndyke, “but I don’t quite see what +you want of me. If,” he continued, addressing the solicitor, “you had +thought of my giving <i>ex parte</i> evidence, dismiss the idea. I am not a +witness-advocate. All I can undertake to do is to investigate the case +and try to discover what really happened. But in that case, whatever I +may discover I shall disclose to the coroner. Would that suit you?” +</p> + +<p> +The lawyer looked doubtful and rather glum, but Mrs. Manford +interposed, firmly: +</p> + +<p> +“Why not? We are not proposing any deception, but I am certain that he +did not commit suicide. Yes, I agree unreservedly to what you +propose.” +</p> + +<p> +With this understanding—which the lawyer was disposed to boggle +at—our visitors took their leave. As soon as they were gone, I gave +utterance to the surprise with which I had listened to Thorndyke’s +proposal. +</p> + +<p> +“I am astonished at your undertaking this case. Of course, you have +given them fair warning, but still, it will be unpleasant if you have +to give evidence unfavourable to your client.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very,” he agreed. “But what makes you think I may have to?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you seem to reject the probability of suicide, but have you +forgotten the evidence at the inquest?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I have,” he replied blandly. “Let us go over it again.” +</p> + +<p> +I fetched the report from the office, and spreading it out on the +table began to read it aloud. Passing over the evidence of the +inspector and the fireman, I came to that of the night-watchman. +</p> + +<p> +“Shortly after I came on duty at ten o’clock, a foreign gentleman +named Bilsky called to see Mr. Manford. I knew him by sight, because +he had called once or twice before at about the same time. I took him +up to the laboratory, where Mr. Manford was doing something with a big +crucible on the gas furnace. He told me that he had some business to +transact with Mr. Bilsky and when he had finished he would let him +out. Then he was going to do some experiments in making alloys, and as +they would probably take up most of the night he said I might as well +turn in. He said he would call me when he was ready to go. So I told +him to be careful with the furnace and not set the place on fire and +burn me in my bed, and then I went downstairs. I had a look round to +see that everything was in order, and then I took off my boots and +laid down. About half-past twelve I heard Mr. Manford and Bilsky come +down. I recognized Mr. Bilsky by a peculiar cough that he had and by +the sound of his stick and his limping tread—he had something the +matter with his right foot and walked quite lame.” +</p> + +<p> +“You say that the deceased came down with him,” said the coroner. “Are +you quite sure of that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I suppose Mr. Manford came down with him, but I can’t say I +actually heard him.” +</p> + +<p> +“You did not hear him go up again?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t. But I was rather sleepy and I wasn’t listening very +particular. Well, then I went to sleep and slept till about half-past +one, when some noise woke me. I was just getting up to see what it was +when I heard a tremendous bang, right overhead. I ran down and turned +the gas off at the main and then I got a fire extinguisher and ran up +to the laboratory. The place seemed to be all in a blaze, but it +wasn’t much of a fire after all, for by the time the fire engines +arrived I had got it practically out.” +</p> + +<p> +The witness then described the state of the laboratory and the finding +of the body, but as this was already known to us, I passed on to the +evidence of the next witness, the superintendent of the fire brigade, +who had made a preliminary inspection of the premises. It was a +cautious statement and subject to the results of a further +examination; but clearly the officer was not satisfied as to the cause +of the outbreak. There seemed to have been two separate explosions, +one near a cupboard and another—apparently the second—in the +cupboard itself; and there seemed to be a burned track connecting the +two spots. This might have been accidental or it might have been +arranged. Witness did not think that the explosive was celluloid. It +seemed to be a high explosive of some kind. But further investigations +were being made. +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent was followed by Mrs. Manford, whose evidence was +substantially similar to what she and Mr. Herdman had told us, and by +the police surgeon, whose description of the remains conveyed nothing +new to us. Finally, the inquest was adjourned for three weeks to allow +of further examination of the premises and the remains. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” I said, as I folded up the report, “I don’t see how you are +able to exclude suicide. If the explosion was arranged to occur when +Manford was in the laboratory, what object, other than suicide, can be +imagined?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke looked at me with an expression that I knew only too well. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it impossible,” he asked, “to imagine that the object might have +been homicide?” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” I objected, “there was no one there but Manford—after Bilsky +left.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly,” he agreed, dryly; “after Bilsky left. But up to that time +there were two persons there.” +</p> + +<p> +I must confess that I was startled, but as I rapidly reviewed the +circumstances I perceived the cogency of Thorndyke’s suggestion. +Bilsky had been present when Manford dismissed the night-watchman. He +knew that there would be no interruption. The inflammable and +explosive materials were there, ready to his hand. Then Bilsky had +gone down to the door alone instead of being conducted down and let +out; a very striking circumstance, this. Again, no jewels had been +found, though the meeting had been ostensibly for the purpose of a +deal; and the bank-notes had vanished utterly. This was very +remarkable. In view of the large sum, it was nearly certain that the +notes would be in a close bundle, and we all know how difficult it is +to burn tightly-folded paper. Yet they had vanished without leaving a +trace. Finally, there was Bilsky himself. Who was he? Apparently a +dealer in stolen property—a hawker of the products of robbery and +murder committed during the revolution. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I admitted, “the theory of homicide is certainly tenable. But +unless some new facts can be produced, it must remain a matter of +speculation.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think, Jervis,” he rejoined, “you must be overlooking the facts +that are known to us. We were there. We saw the place within a few +minutes of the explosion and we examined the body. What we saw +established a clear presumption of homicide, and what we have heard +this morning confirms it. I may say that I communicated my suspicions +the very next day to the coroner and to Superintendent Miller.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you must have seen more than I did,” I began. But he shook his +head and cut short my protestations. +</p> + +<p> +“You saw what I saw, Jervis, but you did not interpret its meaning. +However, it is not too late. Try to recall the details of our +adventure and what our visitors have told us. I don’t think you will +then entertain the idea of suicide.” +</p> + +<p> +I was about to put one or two leading questions, but at this moment +footsteps became audible ascending our stairs. The knock which +followed informed me that our visitor was Superintendent Miller, and I +rose to admit him. +</p> + +<p> +“Just looked in to report progress,” he announced as he subsided into +an arm-chair. “Not much to report, but what there is supports your +view of the case. Bilsky has made a clean bolt. Never went home to his +hotel. Evidently meant to skedaddle, as he has left nothing of any +value behind. But it was a stupid move, for it would have raised +suspicion in any case. The notes were a consecutive batch. All the +numbers are known, but, of course, none of them have turned up yet. We +have made inquiries about Bilsky, and gather that he is a shady +character; practically a fence who deals in the jewellery stolen from +those unfortunate Russian aristocrats. But we shall have him all +right. His description has been circulated at all the seaports, and he +is an easy man to spot with his lame foot and his stick and a finger +missing from his right hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke nodded, and seemed to reflect for a moment. Then he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Have you made any other inquiries?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; there is nothing more to find out until we get hold of our man, +and when we do, we shall look to you to secure the conviction. I +suppose you are quite certain as to your facts?” +</p> + +<p> +Thorndyke shook his head with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I am never certain until after the event. We can only act on +probabilities.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand,” said the superintendent, casting a sly look at me; +“but your probabilities are good enough for me.” +</p> + +<p> +With this, he picked up his hat and departed, leaving us to return to +the occupations that our visitors had interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +I heard no more of the Manford case for about a week, and assumed that +Thorndyke’s interest in it had ceased. But I was mistaken, as I +discovered when he remarked casually one evening: +</p> + +<p> +“No news of Bilsky, so far; and time is running on. I am proposing to +make a tentative move in a new direction.” I looked at him +inquiringly, and he continued: “It appears, ‘from information +received,’ that Elliott had some dealings with him, so I propose to +call at his house to-morrow and see if we can glean any news of the +lost sheep.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Elliott is abroad,” I objected. +</p> + +<p> +“True; but his wife isn’t; and she evidently knows all about his +affairs. I have invited Miller to come with me in case he would like +to put any questions; and you may as well come, too, if you are free.” +</p> + +<p> +It did not sound like a very thrilling adventure, but one never knew +with Thorndyke. I decided to go with him, and at that the matter +dropped, though I speculated a little curiously on the source of the +information. So, apparently, had the superintendent, for when he +arrived on the following morning he proceeded to throw out a few +cautious feelers, but got nothing for his pains beyond vague +generalities. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a purely tentative proceeding,” said Thorndyke, “and you +mustn’t be disappointed if nothing comes of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be, all the same,” replied Miller, with a sly glance at my +senior, and with this we set forth on our quest. +</p> + +<p> +The Elliotts’ house was, as I knew, in some part of Wimbledon, and +thither we made our way by train. From the station we started along a +wide, straight main street from which numbers of smaller streets +branched off. At the corner of one of these I noticed a man standing, +apparently watching our approach; and something in his appearance +seemed to me familiar. Suddenly he took off his hat, looked curiously +into its interior, and put it on again. Then he turned about and +walked quickly down the side street. I looked at his retreating figure +as we crossed the street, wondering who he could be. And then it +flashed upon me that the resemblance was to a certain ex-sergeant +Barber whom Thorndyke occasionally employed for observation duties. +Just as I reached this conclusion, Thorndyke halted and looked about +him doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid we have come too far,” said he. “I fancy we ought to have +gone down that last turning.” +</p> + +<p> +We accordingly faced about and walked back to the corner, where +Thorndyke read out the name, Mendoza Avenue. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “this is the way,” and we thereupon turned down the +Avenue, following it to the bottom, where it ended in a cross-road, +the name of which, Berners Park, I recognized as that which I had seen +on Elliott’s letter. +</p> + +<p> +“Sixty-four is the number,” said Thorndyke, “so as this corner house +is forty-six and the next is forty-eight, it will be a little way +along on this side, just about where you can see that smoke—which, by +the way, seems to be coming out of a window.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, by Jove!” I exclaimed. “The staircase window, apparently. Not +our house, I hope!” +</p> + +<p> +But it was. We read the number and the name, “Green Bushes,” on the +gate as we came up to it, and we hurried up the short path to the +door. There was no knocker, but when Miller fixed his thumb on the +bell-push, we heard a loud ringing within. But there was no response; +and meanwhile the smoke poured more and more densely out of the open +window above. +</p> + +<p> +“Rum!” exclaimed Miller, sticking to the bell-push like a limpet. +“House seems to be empty.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think it is,” Thorndyke replied calmly. +</p> + +<p> +The superintendent looked at him with quick suspicion, and then +glanced at the ground-floor window. +</p> + +<p> +“That window is unfastened,” said he, “and here comes a constable.” +</p> + +<p> +Sure enough, a policeman was approaching quickly, looking up at the +houses. Suddenly he perceived the smoke and quickened his pace, +arriving just as Thorndyke had pulled down the upper window-sash and +was preparing to climb over into the room. The constable hailed him +sternly, but a brief explanation from Miller reduced the officer to a +state of respectful subservience, and we all followed Thorndyke +through the open window, from which smoke now began to filter. +</p> + +<p> +“Send the constable upstairs to give the alarm,” Thorndyke instructed +Miller in a low tone. The order was given without question, and the +next moment the officer was bounding up the stairs, roaring like a +whole fire brigade. Meanwhile, the superintendent browsed along the +hall through the dense smoke, sniffing inquisitively, and at length +approached the street door. Suddenly, from the heart of the reek, his +voice issued in tones of amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m hanged! It’s a plumber’s smoke-rocket. Some fool has stuck +it through into the letter-cage!” +</p> + +<p> +In the silence which followed this announcement I heard an angry voice +from above demand: +</p> + +<p> +“What is all this infernal row about? And what are you doing here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you see that the house is on fire?” was the constable’s stern +rejoinder. “You’d better come down and help to put it out.” +</p> + +<p> +The command was followed by the sound of descending footsteps, on +which Thorndyke ran quickly up the stairs, followed by the +superintendent and me. We met the descending party on the landing, +opposite a window, and here we all stopped, gazing at one another with +mutual curiosity. The man who accompanied the constable looked +distinctly alarmed—as well he might—and somewhat hostile. +</p> + +<p> +“Who put that smoke-rocket in the hall?” Miller demanded fiercely. +“And why didn’t you come down when you heard us ringing the bell?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the man replied sulkily, +“or what business this is of yours. Who are you? And what are you +doing in my house?” +</p> + +<p> +“In your house?” repeated Thorndyke. “Then you will be Mr. Elliott?” +</p> + +<p> +The man turned a startled glance on him and replied angrily: +</p> + +<p> +“Never you mind who I am. Get out of this house.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I do mind who you are,” Thorndyke rejoined mildly. “I came here +to see Mr. Elliott. Are you Mr. Elliott?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m not. Mr. Elliott is abroad. If you like to send a letter here +for him, I will forward it when I get his address.” +</p> + +<p> +While this conversation had been going on, I had been examining the +stranger, not without curiosity. For his appearance was somewhat +unusual. In the first place, he wore an unmistakable wig, and his +shaven face bore an abundance of cuts and scratches, suggesting a +recently and unskilfully mown beard. His spectacles did not disguise a +pronounced divergent squint of the left eye; but what specially caught +my attention was the ear—a large ear, lobeless and pointed at the tip +like the ear of a satyr. As I looked at this, and at the scraped face, +the squint and the wig, a strange suspicion flashed into my mind; and +then, as I noted that the nose was markedly deflected to the left, I +turned to glance at Thorndyke. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you mind telling us your name?” the latter asked blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is—is—Johnson; Frederick Johnson.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah,” said Thorndyke. “I thought it was Manford—James Manford, and I +think so still. I suggest that you have a scar on the right side of +your forehead, just under the wig. May we see?” +</p> + +<p> +As Thorndyke spoke the name, the man turned a horrible livid grey and +started back as if to retreat up the stairs. But the constable blocked +the way; and as the man was struggling to push past, Miller adroitly +snatched off the wig; and there, on the forehead, was the tell-tale +scar. +</p> + +<p> +For an appreciable time we all stood stock-still like the figures of a +tableau. Then Thorndyke turned to the superintendent. +</p> + +<p> +“I charge this man, James Manford, with the murder of Stephan Bilsky.” +</p> + +<p> +Again there was a brief interval of intolerable silence. In the midst +of it, we heard the street door open and shut, and a woman’s voice +called up the stairs: “Whatever is all this smoke? Are you up there, +Jim?” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +I pass over the harrowing details of the double arrest. I am not a +policeman, and to me such scenes are intensely repugnant. But we must +needs stay until two taxis and four constables had conveyed the +prisoners away from the still reeking house to the caravanserai of the +law. Then, at last, we went forth with relief into the fresh air and +bent our steps towards the station. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it,” Miller said reflectively, “that you never suspected +Bilsky?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did at first. But when Mrs. Manford and the solicitor told their +tale I realized that he was the victim and that Manford must be the +murderer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us have the argument,” said I. “It is obvious that I have been a +blockhead, but I don’t mind our old friend here knowing it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a blockhead, Jervis,” he corrected. “You were half asleep that +night and wholly uninterested. If you had been attending to the +matter, you would have observed several curious and anomalous +appearances. For instance, you would have noticed that the body was, +in parts, completely charred and brittle. Now we saw the outbreak of +the fire and we found it extinguished when we reached the building. +Its duration was a matter of minutes; quite insufficient to reduce a +body to that state. For, as you know, a human body is an extremely +incombustible thing. The appearance suggested the destruction of a +body which had been already burnt; and this suggestion was emphasized +by the curiously unequal distribution of the charring. The right hand +was burnt to a cinder and blown to pieces. The left hand was only +scorched. The right foot was utterly destroyed, but the left foot was +nearly intact. The face was burned away completely, and yet there were +parts of the head where the hair was only singed. +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally, with these facts in mind, I scrutinized those remains +narrowly. And presently something much more definite and sinister came +to light. On the left hand, there was a faint impression of another +hand—very indistinct and blurred, but still unmistakably a hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember,” said I, “the inspector pointed it out as evidence that +the deceased had been standing with his hands clasped before or behind +him; and I must admit that it seemed a reasonable inference.” +</p> + +<p> +“So it did—because you were both assuming that the man had been alone +and that it must therefore have been the impression of his own hand. +For that reason, neither of you looked at it critically. If you had, +you would have seen at once that it was the impression of a left +hand.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite right,” I confessed ruefully. “As the man was stated to +have been alone, the hand impression did not interest me. And it was +a mere group of smudges, after all. You are sure that it was a left +hand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite,” he replied. “Blurred as the smudges were, one could make out +the relative lengths of the fingers. And there was the thumb mark at +the distal end of the palm, but pointing to the outer side of the +hand. Try how you may, you can’t get a right hand into that position. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, here was a crucial fact. The mark of a left hand on a +left hand proved the presence of a second person, and at once raised a +strong presumption of homicide, especially when considered in +conjunction with the unaccountable state of the body. During the +evening, a visitor had come and gone, and on him—Bilsky—the +suspicion naturally fell. But Mrs. Manford unwittingly threw an +entirely new light on the case. You remember she told us that her +husband had opened a new bottle of hair dye on the very morning before +the explosion and had applied it with unusual care. Then his hair was +dyed. But the hair of the corpse was not dyed. Therefore the corpse +was not the corpse of Manford. Further, the presumption of murder +applied now to Manford, and the body almost certainly was that of +Bilsky.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did you deduce that the hair of the corpse was not dyed?” I +asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t deduce it at all. I observed it. You remember a little patch +of hair above the right ear, very much singed but still recognizable +as hair? Well, in that patch I made out distinctly two or three white +hairs. Naturally, when Mrs. Manford spoke of the dye, I recalled those +white hairs, for though you may find silver hairs among the gold, you +don’t find them among the dyed. So the corpse could not be Manford’s +and was presumably that of Bilsky. +</p> + +<p> +“But the instant that this presumption was made, a quantity of fresh +evidence arose to support it. The destruction of the body was now +understandable. Its purpose was to prevent identification. The parts +destroyed were the parts that had to be destroyed for that purpose: +the face was totally unrecognizable, and the right hand and right foot +were burnt and shattered to fragments. But these were Bilsky’s +personal marks. His right hand was mutilated and his right foot +deformed. And the fact that the false teeth found were undoubtedly +Manford’s was conclusive evidence of the intended deception. +</p> + +<p> +“Then there were those very queer financial transactions, of which my +interpretation was this: Manford borrowed two thousand pounds from +Clines. With this he opened an account in the name of Elliott. As +Elliott, he lent himself two thousand pounds—with which he repaid +Clines—subject to an insurance of his life for that amount, taken out +in Elliott’s name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he would have gained nothing,” I objected. +</p> + +<p> +“On the contrary, he would have stood to gain two thousand pounds on +proof of his own death. That, I assumed, was his scheme: to murder +Bilsky, to arrange for Bilsky’s corpse to personate his own, and then, +when the insurance was paid, to abscond—in the company of some +woman—with this sum, with the valuables that he had taken from +Bilsky, and the five hundred pounds that he had withdrawn from the +bank. +</p> + +<p> +“But this was only theory. It had to be tested; and as we had +Elliott’s address, I did the only thing that was possible. I employed +our friend, ex-sergeant Barber, to watch the house. He took lodgings +in a house nearly opposite and kept up continuous observation, which +soon convinced him that there was someone on the premises besides Mrs. +Elliott. Then, late one night, he saw a man come out and walk away +quickly. He followed the man for some distance, until the stranger +turned back and began to retrace his steps. Then Barber accosted him, +asking for a direction, and carefully inspecting him. The man’s +appearance tallied exactly with the description that I had given—I +had assumed that he would probably shave off his beard—and with the +photograph; so Barber, having seen him home, reported to me. And that +is the whole story.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not quite the whole,” said Miller, with a sly grin. “There is that +smoke-rocket. If it hadn’t been for the practical joker who slipped +that through the letter-slit, we could never have got into that house. +I call it a most remarkable coincidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“So do I,” Thorndyke agreed, without moving a muscle; “but there is a +special providence that watches over medical jurists.” +</p> + +<p> +We were silent for a few moments. Then I remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“This will come as a terrible shock to Mrs. Manford.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid it will,” Thorndyke agreed. “But it will be better for +her than if Manford had absconded with this woman, taking practically +every penny that he possessed with him. She stood to lose a worthless +husband in either event. At least we have saved her from poverty. And, +knowing the facts, we were morally and legally bound to further the +execution of justice.” +</p> + +<p> +“A very proper sentiment,” said the superintendent, “though I am not +quite clear as to the legal aspects of that smoke-rocket.” +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +THE END +</p> + + +<h2> +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES +</h2> + +<p> +The edition hosted on Fadedpage was consulted for most of the changes +listed below. +</p> + +<p> +Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. notepaper/note-paper, +tattoed/tattooed, writing-table/writing table, etc.) have been +preserved. +</p> + +<p class="noindent mt1"> +<b>Alterations to the text</b>: +</p> + +<p> +Punctuation: fix some quotation mark pairings, and a few missing +periods and commas. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[I. THE MAGIC CASKET] +</p> + +<p> +Change “we heard his brisk <i>step</i> on the stairs” to <i>steps</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[II. THE CONTENTS OF A MARE’S NEST] +</p> + +<p> +“and I suppose that to a toxicologist, there is nothing like an” +delete the comma. +</p> + +<p> +“Yet teeth are far more <i>resistent</i> to fire than bones” to +<i>resistant</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[III. THE STALKING HORSE] +</p> + +<p> +“I am starting for Folkestone in <i>re</i> Burnham deceased.” +italicize <i>in</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“but do not <i>re-act</i> in this way on cellulose paper” to <i>react</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[IV. THE NATURALIST AT LAW] +</p> + +<p> +“Who had a motive for killing Cyrus Pedley? and Who had the +opportunity and the means.” change the period to a question mark. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[V. MR. PONTING’S ALIBI] +</p> + +<p> +“But since the trouble about the will, he is hardly on speaking terms +with them?” change the question mark to a period. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[VI. PANDORA’S BOX] +</p> + +<p> +“opening it and opening <i>another’s</i> man’s box” to <i>another</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[VII. THE TRAIL OF BEHEMOTH] +</p> + +<p> +“I became aware of quick footsteps descending the <i>staris</i> behind us” +to <i>stairs</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[VIII. THE PATHOLOGIST TO THE RESCUE] +</p> + +<p> +Change “is in the custody of the robbery and no murder.” to “is in the +custody of the police, charged with robbery and murder.” +</p> + +<p> +(“Yes,” Thorndyke replied. “I am in a position to give important and +material evidence?”) change the question mark to a period. +</p> + +<p> +“I get back to de ship jus’ before dey ring two bells in <i>the</i> middle +watch.” to <i>de</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[IX. GLEANINGS FROM THE WRECKAGE] +</p> + +<p> +“in the palm, just between the roots of the third and fourth <i>finger</i>” +to <i>fingers</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“in a full beard and moustache, both apparently jet-<i>back</i>” to <i>black</i>. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +[End of text] +</p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76919 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76919-h/images/cover.jpg b/76919-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cbdd80f --- /dev/null +++ b/76919-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, 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. 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