Read Chronicles of Martin Hewitt Page 5


  THE CASE OF LAKER, ABSCONDED.

  There were several of the larger London banks and insurance offices fromwhich Hewitt held a sort of general retainer as detective adviser, infulfilment of which he was regularly consulted as to the measures to betaken in different cases of fraud, forgery, theft, and so forth, whichit might be the misfortune of the particular firms to encounter. Themore important and intricate of these cases were placed in his handsentirely, with separate commissions, in the usual way. One of the mostimportant companies of the sort was the General Guarantee Society, aninsurance corporation which, among other risks, took those of theintegrity of secretaries, clerks, and cashiers. In the case of acash-box elopement on the part of any person guaranteed by the society,the directors were naturally anxious for a speedy capture of theculprit, and more especially of the booty, before too much of it wasspent, in order to lighten the claim upon their funds, and in work ofthis sort Hewitt was at times engaged, either in general advice anddirection, or in the actual pursuit of the plunder and the plunderer.

  Arriving at his office a little later than usual one morning, Hewittfound an urgent message awaiting him from the General Guarantee Society,requesting his attention to a robbery which had taken place on theprevious day. He had gleaned some hint of the case from the morningpaper, wherein appeared a short paragraph, which ran thus:--

  SERIOUS BANK ROBBERY.--In the course of yesterday a clerk employed by Messrs. Liddle, Neal & Liddle, the well-known bankers, disappeared, having in his possession a large sum of money, the property of his employers--a sum reported to be rather over L15,000. It would seem that he had been entrusted to collect the money in his capacity of "walk-clerk" from various other banks and trading concerns during the morning, but failed to return at the usual time. A large number of the notes which he received had been cashed at the Bank of England before suspicion was aroused. We understand that Detective-Inspector Plummer, of Scotland Yard, has the case in hand.

  The clerk, whose name was Charles William Laker, had, it appeared fromthe message, been guaranteed in the usual way by the General GuaranteeSociety, and Hewitt's presence at the office was at once desired, inorder that steps might quickly be taken for the man's apprehension, andin the recovery, at any rate, of as much of the booty as possible.

  A smart hansom brought Hewitt to Threadneedle Street in a bare quarterof an hour, and there a few minutes' talk with the manager, Mr. Lyster,put him in possession of the main facts of the case, which appeared tobe simple. Charles William Laker was twenty-five years of age, and hadbeen in the employ of Messrs. Liddle, Neal & Liddle for something morethan seven years--since he left school, in fact--and until the previousday there had been nothing in his conduct to complain of. His duties aswalk-clerk consisted in making a certain round, beginning at abouthalf-past ten each morning. There were a certain number of the moreimportant banks between which and Messrs. Liddle, Neal & Liddle therewere daily transactions, and a few smaller semi-private banks andmerchant firms acting as financial agents, with whom there was businessintercourse of less importance and regularity; and each of these, asnecessary, he visited in turn, collecting cash due on bills and otherinstruments of a like nature. He carried a wallet, fastened securely tohis person by a chain, and this wallet contained the bills and the cash.Usually at the end of his round, when all his bills had been convertedinto cash, the wallet held very large sums. His work andresponsibilities, in fine, were those common to walk-clerks in allbanks.

  On the day of the robbery he had started out as usual--possibly a littleearlier than was customary--and the bills and other securities in hispossession represented considerably more than L15,000. It had beenascertained that he had called in the usual way at each establishment onthe round, and had transacted his business at the last place by about aquarter-past one, being then, without doubt, in possession of cash tothe full value of the bills negotiated. After that, Mr. Lyster said,yesterday's report was that nothing more had been heard of him. But thismorning there had been a message to the effect that he had been tracedout of the country--to Calais, at least, it was thought. The directorsof the society wished Hewitt to take the case in hand personally and atonce, with a view of recovering what was possible from the plunder byway of salvage; also, of course, of finding Laker, for it is animportant moral gain to guarantee societies, as an example, if a thiefis caught and punished. Therefore Hewitt and Mr. Lyster, as soon asmight be, made for Messrs. Liddle, Neal & Liddle's, that theinvestigation might be begun.

  The bank premises were quite near--in Leadenhall Street. Having arrivedthere, Hewitt and Mr. Lyster made their way to the firm's privaterooms. As they were passing an outer waiting-room, Hewitt noticed twowomen. One, the elder, in widow's weeds, was sitting with her head bowedin her hand over a small writing-table. Her face was not visible, buther whole attitude was that of a person overcome with unbearable grief;and she sobbed quietly. The other was a young woman of twenty-two ortwenty-three. Her thick black veil revealed no more than that herfeatures were small and regular, and that her face was pale and drawn.She stood with a hand on the elder woman's shoulder, and she quicklyturned her head away as the two men entered.

  Mr. Neal, one of the partners, received them in his own room."Good-morning, Mr. Hewitt," he said, when Mr. Lyster had introduced thedetective. "This is a serious business--very. I think I am sorrier forLaker himself than for anybody else, ourselves included--or, at anyrate, I am sorrier for his mother. She is waiting now to see Mr. Liddle,as soon as he arrives--Mr. Liddle has known the family for a long time.Miss Shaw is with her, too, poor girl. She is a governess, or somethingof that sort, and I believe she and Laker were engaged to be married.It's all very sad."

  "Inspector Plummer, I understand," Hewitt remarked, "has the affair inhand, on behalf of the police?"

  "Yes," Mr. Neal replied; "in fact, he's here now, going through thecontents of Laker's desk, and so forth; he thinks it possible Laker mayhave had accomplices. Will you see him?"

  "Presently. Inspector Plummer and I are old friends. We met last, Ithink, in the case of the Stanway cameo, some months ago. But, first,will you tell me how long Laker has been a walk-clerk?"

  "Barely four months, although he has been with us altogether sevenyears. He was promoted to the walk soon after the beginning of theyear."

  "Do you know anything of his habits--what he used to do in his sparetime, and so forth?"

  "Not a great deal. He went in for boating, I believe, though I haveheard it whispered that he had one or two more expensivetastes--expensive, that is, for a young man in his position," Mr. Nealexplained, with a dignified wave of the hand that he peculiarlyaffected. He was a stout old gentleman, and the gesture suited him.

  "You have had no reason to suspect him of dishonesty before, I take it?"

  "Oh, no. He made a wrong return once, I believe, that went for some timeundetected, but it turned out, after all, to be a clerical error--a mereclerical error."

  "Do you know anything of his associates out of the office?"

  "No, how should I? I believe Inspector Plummer has been making inquiriesas to that, however, of the other clerks. Here he is, by the bye, Iexpect. Come in!"

  It was Plummer who had knocked, and he came in at Mr. Neal's call. Hewas a middle-sized, small-eyed, impenetrable-looking man, as yet of nogreat reputation in the force. Some of my readers may remember hisconnection with that case, so long a public mystery, that I haveelsewhere fully set forth and explained under the title of "The StanwayCameo Mystery." Plummer carried his billy-cock hat in one hand and a fewpapers in the other. He gave Hewitt good-morning, placed his hat on achair, and spread the papers on the table.

  "There's not a great deal here," he said, "but one thing's plain--Lakerhad been betting. See here, and here, and here"--he took a few lettersfrom the bundle in his hand--"two letters from a bookmaker aboutsettling--wonder he trusted a clerk--several telegrams from tipsters,and a letter from some friend--only signed by initials--asking Laker toput a sover
eign on a horse for the friend 'with his own.' I'll keepthese, I think. It may be worth while to see that friend, if we can findhim. Ah, we often find it's betting, don't we, Mr. Hewitt? Meanwhile,there's no news from France yet."

  "You are sure that is where he is gone?" asked Hewitt.

  "Well, I'll tell you what we've done as yet. First, of course, I wentround to all the banks. There was nothing to be got from that. Thecashiers all knew him by sight, and one was a personal friend of his. Hehad called as usual, said nothing in particular, cashed his bills in theordinary way, and finished up at the Eastern Consolidated Bank at abouta quarter-past one. So far there was nothing whatever. But I had startedtwo or three men meanwhile making inquiries at the railway stations, andso on. I had scarcely left the Eastern Consolidated when one of themcame after me with news. He had tried Palmer's Tourist Office, althoughthat seemed an unlikely place, and there struck the track."

  "Had he been there?"

  "Not only had he been there, but he had taken a tourist ticket forFrance. It was quite a smart move, in a way. You see it was the sort ofticket that lets you do pretty well what you like; you have the choiceof two or three different routes to begin with, and you can break yourjourney where you please, and make all sorts of variations. So that aman with a ticket like that, and a few hours' start, could twist abouton some remote branch route, and strike off in another directionaltogether, with a new ticket, from some out-of-the-way place, while wewere carefully sorting out and inquiring along the different routes he_might_ have taken. Not half a bad move for a new hand; but he made onebad mistake, as new hands always do--as old hands do, in fact, veryoften. He was fool enough to give his own name, C. Laker! Although thatdidn't matter much, as the description was enough to fix him. There hewas, wallet and all, just as he had come from the Eastern ConsolidatedBank. He went straight from there to Palmer's, by the bye, and probablyin a cab. We judge that by the time. He left the Eastern Consolidated ata quarter-past one, and was at Palmer's by twenty-five-past--tenminutes. The clerk at Palmer's remembered the time because he wasanxious to get out to his lunch, and kept looking at the clock,expecting another clerk in to relieve him. Laker didn't take much in theway of luggage, I fancy. We inquired carefully at the stations, and gotthe porters to remember the passengers for whom they had been carryingluggage, but none appeared to have had any dealings with our man. That,of course, is as one would expect. He'd take as little as possible withhim, and buy what he wanted on the way, or when he'd reached hishiding-place. Of course, I wired to Calais (it was a Dover to Calaisroute ticket) and sent a couple of smart men off by the 8.15 mail fromCharing Cross. I expect we shall hear from them in the course of theday. I am being kept in London in view of something expected atheadquarters, or I should have been off myself."

  "That is all, then, up to the present? Have you anything else in view?"

  "That's all I've absolutely ascertained at present. As for what I'mgoing to do"--a slight smile curled Plummer's lip--"well, I shall see.I've a thing or two in my mind."

  Hewitt smiled slightly himself; he recognised Plummer's touch ofprofessional jealousy. "Very well," he said, rising, "I'll make aninquiry or two for myself at once. Perhaps, Mr. Neal, you'll allow oneof your clerks to show me the banks, in their regular order, at whichLaker called yesterday. I think I'll begin at the beginning."

  Mr. Neal offered to place at Hewitt's disposal anything or anybody thebank contained, and the conference broke up. As Hewitt, with the clerk,came through the rooms separating Mr. Neal's sanctum from the outeroffice, he fancied he saw the two veiled women leaving by a side door.

  The first bank was quite close to Liddle, Neal & Liddle's. There thecashier who had dealt with Laker the day before remembered nothing inparticular about the interview. Many other walk-clerks had calledduring the morning, as they did every morning, and the onlycircumstances of the visit that he could say anything definite aboutwere those recorded in figures in the books. He did not know Laker'sname till Plummer had mentioned it in making inquiries on the previousafternoon. As far as he could remember, Laker behaved much as usual,though really he did not notice much; he looked chiefly at the bills. Hedescribed Laker in a way that corresponded with the photograph thatHewitt had borrowed from the bank; a young man with a brown moustacheand ordinary-looking, fairly regular face, dressing much as other clerksdressed--tall hat, black cutaway coat, and so on. The numbers of thenotes handed over had already been given to Inspector Plummer, and theseHewitt did not trouble about.

  The next bank was in Cornhill, and here the cashier was a personalfriend of Laker's--at any rate, an acquaintance--and he remembered alittle more. Laker's manner had been quite as usual, he said; certainlyhe did not seem preoccupied or excited in his manner. He spoke for amoment or two--of being on the river on Sunday, and so on--and left inhis usual way.

  "Can you remember _everything_ he said?" Hewitt asked. "If you can tellme, I should like to know exactly what he did and said to the smallestparticular."

  "Well, he saw me a little distance off--I was behind there, at one ofthe desks--and raised his hand to me, and said, 'How d'ye do?' I cameacross and took his bills, and dealt with them in the usual way. He hada new umbrella lying on the counter--rather a handsome umbrella--and Imade a remark about the handle. He took it up to show me, and told me itwas a present he had just received from a friend. It was a gorse-roothandle, with two silver bands, one with his monogram C.W.L. I said itwas a very nice handle, and asked him whether it was fine in hisdistrict on Sunday. He said he had been up the river, and it was veryfine there. And I think that was all."

  "Thank you. Now about this umbrella. Did he carry it rolled? Can youdescribe it in detail?"

  "Well, I've told you about the handle, and the rest was much as usual, Ithink; it wasn't rolled--just flapping loosely, you know. It was ratheran odd-shaped handle, though. I'll try and sketch it, if you like, aswell as I can remember." He did so, and Hewitt saw in the result roughindications of a gnarled crook, with one silver band near the end, andanother, with the monogram, a few inches down the handle. Hewitt put thesketch in his pocket, and bade the cashier good-day.

  At the next bank the story was the same as at the first--there wasnothing remembered but the usual routine. Hewitt and the clerk turneddown a narrow paved court, and through into Lombard Street for the nextvisit. The bank--that of Buller, Clayton, Ladds & Co.--was just at thecorner at the end of the court, and the imposing stone entrance-porchwas being made larger and more imposing still, the way being almostblocked by ladders and scaffold-poles. Here there was only the usualtale, and so on through the whole walk. The cashiers knew Laker only bysight, and that not always very distinctly. The calls of walk-clerkswere such matters of routine that little note was taken of the personsof the clerks themselves, who were called by the names of their firms,if they were called by any names at all. Laker had behaved much asusual, so far as the cashiers could remember, and when finally theEastern Consolidated was left behind, nothing more had been learnt thanthe chat about Laker's new umbrella.

  Hewitt had taken leave of Mr. Neal's clerk, and was stepping into ahansom, when he noticed a veiled woman in widow's weeds hailing anotherhansom a little way behind. He recognised the figure again, and said tothe driver, "Drive fast to Palmer's Tourist Office, but keep your eye onthat cab behind, and tell me presently if it is following us."

  The cabman drove off, and after passing one or two turnings, opened thelid above Hewitt's head, and said, "That there other keb _is_a-follerin' us, sir, an' keepin' about even distance all along."

  "All right; that's what I wanted to know. Palmer's now."

  At Palmer's the clerk who had attended to Laker remembered him verywell, and described him. He also remembered the wallet, and _thought_ heremembered the umbrella--was practically sure of it, in fact, uponreflection. He had no record of the name given, but remembered itdistinctly to be Laker. As a matter of fact, names were never asked insuch a transaction, but in this case Laker appeared to be ignorant ofthe usual pr
ocedure, as well as in a great hurry, and asked for theticket and gave his name all in one breath, probably assuming that thename would be required.

  Hewitt got back to his cab, and started for Charing Cross. The cabmanonce more lifted the lid and informed him that the hansom with theveiled woman in it was again following, having waited while Hewitt hadvisited Palmer's. At Charing Cross Hewitt discharged his cab and walkedstraight to the lost property office. The man in charge knew him verywell, for his business had carried him there frequently before.

  "I fancy an umbrella was lost in the station yesterday," Hewitt said."It was a new umbrella, silk, with a gnarled gorse-root handle and twosilver bands, something like this sketch. There was a monogram on thelower band--'C. W. L.' were the letters. Has it been brought here?"

  "There was two or three yesterday," the man said; "let's see." He tookthe sketch and retired to a corner of his room. "Oh, yes--here it is, Ithink; isn't this it? Do you claim it?"

  "Well, not exactly that, but I think I'll take a look at it, if you'lllet me. By the way, I see it's rolled up. Was it found like that?"

  "No; the chap rolled it up what found it--porter he was. It's a fad ofhis, rolling up umbrellas close and neat, and he's rather proud of it.He often looks as though he'd like to take a man's umbrella away androll it up for him when it's a bit clumsy done. Rum fad, eh?"

  "Yes; everybody has his little fad, though. Where was this found--closeby here?"

  "Yes, sir; just there, almost opposite this window, in the littlecorner."

  "About two o'clock?"

  "Ah, about that time, more or less."

  Hewitt took the umbrella up, unfastened the band, and shook the silk outloose. Then he opened it, and as he did so a small scrap of paper fellfrom inside it. Hewitt pounced on it like lightning. Then, afterexamining the umbrella thoroughly, inside and out, he handed it back tothe man, who had not observed the incident of the scrap of paper.

  "That will do, thanks," he said. "I only wanted to take a peep atit--just a small matter connected with a little case of mine.Good-morning."

  He turned suddenly and saw, gazing at him with a terrified expressionfrom a door behind, the face of the woman who had followed him in thecab. The veil was lifted, and he caught but a mere glance of the faceere it was suddenly withdrawn. He stood for a moment to allow the womantime to retreat, and then left the station and walked toward his office,close by.

  Scarcely thirty yards along the Strand he met Plummer.

  "I'm going to make some much closer inquiries all down the line as faras Dover," Plummer said. "They wire from Calais that they have no clueas yet, and I mean to make quite sure, if I can, that Laker hasn'tquietly slipped off the line somewhere between here and Dover. There'sone very peculiar thing," Plummer added confidentially. "Did you see thetwo women who were waiting to see a member of the firm at Liddle, Neal &Liddle's?"

  "Yes. Laker's mother and his _fiancee_, I was told."

  "That's right. Well, do you know that girl--Shaw her name is--has beenshadowing me ever since I left the Bank. Of course I spotted it fromthe beginning--these amateurs don't know how to follow anybody--and, asa matter of fact, she's just inside that jeweller's shop door behind menow, pretending to look at the things in the window. But it's odd, isn'tit?"

  "Well," Hewitt replied, "of course it's not a thing to be neglected. Ifyou'll look very carefully at the corner of Villiers Street, withoutappearing to stare, I think you will possibly observe some signs ofLaker's mother. She's shadowing _me_."

  Plummer looked casually in the direction indicated, and then immediatelyturned his eyes in another direction.

  "I see her," he said; "she's just taking a look round the corner. That'sa thing not to be ignored. Of course, the Lakers' house is beingwatched--we set a man on it at once, yesterday. But I'll put some one onnow to watch Miss Shaw's place, too. I'll telephone through toLiddle's--probably they'll be able to say where it is. And the womenthemselves must be watched, too. As a matter of fact, I had a notionthat Laker wasn't alone in it. And it's just possible, you know, that hehas sent an accomplice off with his tourist ticket to lead us a dancewhile he looks after himself in another direction. Have you doneanything?"

  "Well," Hewitt replied, with a faint reproduction of the secretivesmile with which Plummer had met an inquiry of his earlier in themorning, "I've been to the station here, and I've found Laker's umbrellain the lost property office."

  "Oh! Then probably he _has_ gone. I'll bear that in mind, and perhapshave a word with the lost property man."

  Plummer made for the station and Hewitt for his office. He mounted thestairs and reached his door just as I myself, who had been disappointedin not finding him in, was leaving. I had called with the idea of takingHewitt to lunch with me at my club, but he declined lunch. "I have animportant case in hand," he said. "Look here, Brett. See this scrap ofpaper. You know the types of the different newspapers--which is this?"

  He handed me a small piece of paper. It was part of a cutting containingan advertisement, which had been torn in half.

  "I _think_," I said, "this is from the _Daily Chronicle_, judging by thepaper. It is plainly from the 'agony column,' but all the papers usepretty much the same type for these advertisements, except the _Times_.If it were not torn I could tell you at once, because the _Chronicle_columns are rather narrow."

  "Never mind--I'll send for them all." He rang, and sent Kerrett for acopy of each morning paper of the previous day. Then he took from alarge wardrobe cupboard a decent but well-worn and rather roughened tallhat. Also a coat a little worn and shiny on the collar. He exchangedthese for his own hat and coat, and then substituted an old necktie forhis own clean white one, and encased his legs in mud-spotted leggings.This done, he produced a very large and thick pocket-book, fastened by abroad elastic band, and said, "Well, what do you think of this? Will itdo for Queen's taxes, or sanitary inspection, or the gas, or thewater-supply?"

  "Very well indeed, I should say," I replied. "What's the case?"

  "Oh, I'll tell you all about that when it's over--no time now. Oh, hereyou are, Kerrett. By the bye, Kerrett, I'm going out presently by theback way. Wait for about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after I amgone, and then just go across the road and speak to that lady in black,with the veil, who is waiting in that little foot-passage opposite. SayMr. Martin Hewitt sends his compliments, and he advises her not to wait,as he has already left his office by another door, and has been gonesome little time. That's all; it would be a pity to keep the poor womanwaiting all day for nothing. Now the papers. _Daily News, Standard,Telegraph, Chronicle_--yes, here it is, in the Chronicle."

  The whole advertisement read thus:--

  YOB.--H.R. Shop roast. You 1st. Then to-night. 02. 2nd top 3rd L. No. 197 red bl. straight mon. One at a time.

  "What's this," I asked, "a cryptogram?"

  "I'll see," Hewitt answered. "But I won't tell you anything about ittill afterwards, so you get your lunch. Kerrett, bring the directory."

  This was all I actually saw of this case myself, and I have written therest in its proper order from Hewitt's information, as I have writtensome other cases entirely.

  To resume at the point where, for the time I lost sight of the matter.Hewitt left by the back way and stopped an empty cab as it passed."Abney Park Cemetery" was his direction to the driver. In little morethan twenty minutes the cab was branching off down the Essex Road on itsway to Stoke Newington, and in twenty minutes more Hewitt stopped it inChurch Street, Stoke Newington. He walked through a street or two, andthen down another, the houses of which he scanned carefully as hepassed. Opposite one which stood by itself he stopped, and, making apretence of consulting and arranging his large pocket-book, he took agood look at the house. It was rather larger, neater, and morepretentious than the others in the street, and it had a natty littlecoach-house just visible up the side entrance. There were red blindshung with heavy lace in the front windows, and behind one of theseblinds Hewitt was able to catch the glint of a hea
vy gas chandelier.

  He stepped briskly up the front steps and knocked sharply at the door."Mr. Merston?" he asked, pocket-book in hand, when a neat parlour-maidopened the door.

  "Yes."

  "Ah!" Hewitt stepped into the hall and pulled off his hat; "it's onlythe meter. There's been a deal of gas running away somewhere here, andI'm just looking to see if the meters are right. Where is it?"

  The girl hesitated. "I'll--I'll ask master," she said.

  "Very well. I don't want to take it away, you know--only to give it atap or two, and so on."

  The girl retired to the back of the hall, and without taking her eyesoff Martin Hewitt, gave his message to some invisible person in a backroom, whence came a growling reply of "All right."

  Hewitt followed the girl to the basement, apparently looking straightbefore him, but in reality taking in every detail of the place. The gasmeter was in a very large lumber cupboard under the kitchen stairs. Thegirl opened the door and lit a candle. The meter stood on the floor,which was littered with hampers and boxes and odd sheets of brown paper.But a thing that at once arrested Hewitt's attention was a garment ofsome sort of bright blue cloth, with large brass buttons, which waslying in a tumbled heap in a corner, and appeared to be the only thingin the place that was not covered with dust. Nevertheless, Hewitt tookno apparent notice of it, but stooped down and solemnly tapped the meterthree times with his pencil, and listened with great gravity, placinghis ear to the top. Then he shook his head and tapped again. At lengthhe said:--

  "It's a bit doubtful. I'll just get you to light the gas in the kitchena moment. Keep your hand to the burner, and when I call out shut it off_at once_; see?"

  The girl turned and entered the kitchen, and Hewitt immediately seizedthe blue coat--for a coat it was. It had a dull red piping in the seams,and was of the swallow-tail pattern--a livery coat, in fact. He held itfor a moment before him, examining its pattern and colour, and thenrolled it up and flung it again into the corner.

  "Right!" he called to the servant. "Shut off!"

  The girl emerged from the kitchen as he left the cupboard.

  "Well," she asked, "are you satisfied now?"

  "Quite satisfied, thank you," Hewitt replied.

  "Is it all right?" she continued, jerking her hand toward the cupboard.

  "Well, no, it isn't; there's something wrong there, and I'm glad I came.You can tell Mr. Merston, if you like, that I expect his gas bill willbe a good deal less next quarter." And there was a suspicion of achuckle in Hewitt's voice as he crossed the hall to leave. For a gasinspector is pleased when he finds at length what he has been searchingfor.

  Things had fallen out better than Hewitt had dared to expect. He saw thekey of the whole mystery in that blue coat; for it was the uniform coatof the hall porters at one of the banks that he had visited in themorning, though which one he could not for the moment remember. Heentered the nearest post-office and despatched a telegram to Plummer,giving certain directions and asking the inspector to meet him; then hehailed the first available cab and hurried toward the City.

  At Lombard Street he alighted, and looked in at the door of each banktill he came to Buller, Clayton, Ladds & Co.'s. This was the bank hewanted. In the other banks the hall porters wore mulberry coats,brick-dust coats, brown coats, and what not, but here, behind theladders and scaffold poles which obscured the entrance, he could see aman in a blue coat, with dull red piping and brass buttons. He sprang upthe steps, pushed open the inner swing door, and finally satisfiedhimself by a closer view of the coat, to the wearer's astonishment. Thenhe regained the pavement and walked the whole length of the bankpremises in front, afterwards turning up the paved passage at the side,deep in thought. The bank had no windows or doors on the side next thecourt, and the two adjoining houses were old and supported in places bywooden shores. Both were empty, and a great board announced that tenderswould be received in a month's time for the purchase of the oldmaterials of which they were constructed; also that some part of thesite would be let on a long building lease.

  Hewitt looked up at the grimy fronts of the old buildings. The windowswere crusted thick with dirt--all except the bottom window of the housenearer the bank, which was fairly clean, and seemed to have been quitelately washed. The door, too, of this house was cleaner than that of theother, though the paint was worn. Hewitt reached and fingered a hookdriven into the left-hand doorpost about six feet from the ground. Itwas new, and not at all rusted; also a tiny splinter had been displacedwhen the hook was driven in, and clean wood showed at the spot.

  Having observed these things, Hewitt stepped back and read at the bottomof the big board the name, "Winsor & Weekes, Surveyors and Auctioneers,Abchurch Lane." Then he stepped into Lombard Street.

  Two hansoms pulled up near the post-office, and out of the first steppedInspector Plummer and another man. This man and the two who alightedfrom the second hansom were unmistakably plain-clothes constables--theirair, gait, and boots proclaimed it.

  "What's all this?" demanded Plummer, as Hewitt approached.

  "You'll soon see, I think. But, first, have you put the watch on No.197, Hackworth Road?"

  "Yes; nobody will get away from there alone."

  "Very good. I am going into Abchurch Lane for a few minutes. Leave yourmen out here, but just go round into the court by Buller, Clayton &Ladds's, and keep your eye on the first door on the left. I think we'llfind something soon. Did you get rid of Miss Shaw?"

  "No, she's behind now, and Mrs. Laker's with her. They met in theStrand, and came after us in another cab. Rare fun, eh! They think we'repretty green! It's quite handy, too. So long as they keep behind me itsaves all trouble of watching _them_." And Inspector Plummer chuckledand winked.

  "Very good. You don't mind keeping your eye on that door, do you? I'llbe back very soon," and with that Hewitt turned off into Abchurch Lane.

  At Winsor & Weekes's information was not difficult to obtain. The houseswere destined to come down very shortly, but a week or so ago an officeand a cellar in one of them was let temporarily to a Mr. Westley. Hebrought no references; indeed, as he paid a fortnight's rent in advance,he was not asked for any, considering the circumstances of the case. Hewas opening a London branch for a large firm of cider merchants, hesaid, and just wanted a rough office and a cool cellar to store samplesin for a few weeks till the permanent premises were ready. There wasanother key, and no doubt the premises might be entered if there wereany special need for such a course. Martin Hewitt gave such excellentreasons that Winsor & Weekes's managing clerk immediately produced thekey and accompanied Hewitt to the spot.

  "I think you'd better have your men handy," Hewitt remarked to Plummerwhen they reached the door, and a whistle quickly brought the men over.

  The key was inserted in the lock and turned, but the door would notopen; the bolt was fastened at the bottom. Hewitt stooped and lookedunder the door.

  "It's a drop bolt," he said. "Probably the man who left last let it fallloose, and then banged the door, so that it fell into its place. I musttry my best with a wire or a piece of string."

  A wire was brought, and with some manoeuvring Hewitt contrived to passit round the bolt, and lift it little by little, steadying it with theblade of a pocket-knife. When at length the bolt was raised out of thehole, the knife-blade was slipped under it, and the door swung open.

  They entered. The door of the little office just inside stood open, butin the office there was nothing, except a board a couple of feet long ina corner. Hewitt stepped across and lifted this, turning its downwardface toward Plummer. On it, in fresh white paint on a black ground, werepainted the words--

  "BULLER, CLAYTON, LADDS & CO., TEMPORARY ENTRANCE."

  Hewitt turned to Winsor & Weekes's clerk and asked, "The man who tookthis room called himself Westley, didn't he?"

  "Yes."

  "Youngish man, clean-shaven, and well-dressed?"

  "Yes, he was."

  "I fancy," Hewitt said, turning to Plummer, "I _fanc
y_ an old friend ofyours is in this--Mr. Sam Gunter."

  "What, the 'Hoxton Yob'?"

  "I think it's possible he's been Mr. Westley for a bit, and somebodyelse for another bit. But let's come to the cellar."

  Winsor & Weekes's clerk led the way down a steep flight of steps into adark underground corridor, wherein they lighted their way with manysuccessive matches. Soon the corridor made a turn to the right, and asthe party passed the turn, there came from the end of the passage beforethem a fearful yell.

  "Help! help! Open the door! I'm going mad--mad! O my God!"

  And there was a sound of desperate beating from the inside of the cellardoor at the extreme end. The men stopped, startled.

  "Come," said Hewitt, "more matches!" and he rushed to the door. It wasfastened with a bar and padlock.

  "Let me out, for God's sake!" came the voice, sick and hoarse, from theinside. "Let me out!"

  "All right!" Hewitt shouted. "We have come for you. Wait a moment."

  The voice sank into a sort of sobbing croon, and Hewitt tried severalkeys from his own bunch on the padlock. None fitted. He drew from hispocket the wire he had used for the bolt of the front door, straightenedit out, and made a sharp bend at the end.

  "Hold a match close," he ordered shortly, and one of the men obeyed.Three or four attempts were necessary, and several different bendings ofthe wire were effected, but in the end Hewitt picked the lock, and flungopen the door.

  From within a ghastly figure fell forward among them fainting, andknocked out the matches.

  "Hullo!" cried Plummer. "Hold up! Who are you?"

  "Let's get him up into the open," said Hewitt. "He can't tell you who heis for a bit, but I believe he's Laker."

  "Laker! What, here?"

  "I think so. Steady up the steps. Don't bump him. He's pretty sorealready, I expect."

  Truly the man was a pitiable sight. His hair and face were caked in dustand blood, and his finger-nails were torn and bleeding. Water was sentfor at once, and brandy.

  "Well," said Plummer hazily, looking first at the unconscious prisonerand then at Hewitt, "but what about the swag?"

  "You'll have to find that yourself," Hewitt replied. "I think my shareof the case is about finished. I only act for the Guarantee Society, youknow, and if Laker's proved innocent----"

  "Innocent! How?"

  "Well, this is what took place, as near as I can figure it. You'd betterundo his collar, I think"--this to the men. "What I believe has happenedis this. There has been a very clever and carefully prepared conspiracyhere, and Laker has not been the criminal, but the victim."

  "Been robbed himself, you mean? But how? Where?"

  "Yesterday morning, before he had been to more than three banks--here,in fact."

  "But then how? You're all wrong. We _know_ he made the whole round, anddid all the collection. And then Palmer's office, and all, and theumbrella; why----"

  The man lay still unconscious. "Don't raise his head," Hewitt said. "Andone of you had best fetch a doctor. He's had a terrible shock." Thenturning to Plummer he went on, "As to _how_ they managed the job I'lltell you what I think. First it struck some very clever person that adeal of money might be got by robbing a walk-clerk from a bank. Thisclever person was one of a clever gang of thieves--perhaps the HoxtonRow gang, as I think I hinted. Now you know quite as well as I do thatsuch a gang will spend any amount of time over a job that promises a bighaul, and that for such a job they can always command the necessarycapital. There are many most respectable persons living in good style inthe suburbs whose chief business lies in financing such ventures, andtaking the chief share of the proceeds. Well, this is their plan,carefully and intelligently carried out. They watch Laker, observe theround he takes, and his habits. They find that there is only one of theclerks with whom he does business that he is much acquainted with, andthat this clerk is in a bank which is commonly second in Laker's round.The sharpest man among them--and I don't think there's a man in Londoncould do this as well as young Sam Gunter--studies Laker's dress andhabits just as an actor studies a character. They take this office andcellar, as we have seen, _because it is next door to a bank whose frontentrance is being altered_--a fact which Laker must know from his dailyvisits. The smart man--Gunter, let us say, and I have other reasons forbelieving it to be he--makes up precisely like Laker, false moustache,dress, and everything, and waits here with the rest of the gang. One ofthe gang is dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons, like ahall-porter in Buller's bank. Do you see?"

  "Yes, I think so. It's pretty clear now."

  "A confederate watches at the top of the court, and the moment Lakerturns in from Cornhill--having already been, mind, at the only bankwhere he was so well known that the disguised thief would not havepassed muster--as soon as he turns in from Cornhill, I say, a signal isgiven, and that board"--pointing to that with the white letters--"ishung on the hook in the doorpost. The sham porter stands beside it, andas Laker approaches says, 'This way in, sir, this morning. The frontway's shut for the alterations.' Laker, suspecting nothing, andsupposing that the firm have made a temporary entrance through the emptyhouse, enters. He is seized when well along the corridor, the board istaken down and the door shut. Probably he is stunned by a blow on thehead--see the blood now. They take his wallet and all the cash he hasalready collected. Gunter takes the wallet and also the umbrella, sinceit has Laker's initials, and is therefore distinctive. He simplycompletes the walk in the character of Laker, beginning with Buller,Clayton & Ladds's just round the corner. It is nothing but routine work,which is quickly done, and nobody notices him particularly--it is thebills they examine. Meanwhile this unfortunate fellow is locked up inthe cellar here, right at the end of the underground corridor, where hecan never make himself heard in the street, and where next him are onlythe empty cellars of the deserted house next door. The thieves shut thefront door and vanish. The rest is plain. Gunter, having completed theround, and bagged some L15,000 or more, spends a few pounds in a touristticket at Palmer's as a blind, being careful to give Laker's name. Heleaves the umbrella at Charing Cross in a conspicuous place rightopposite the lost property office, where it is sure to be seen, and socompletes his false trail."

  "Then who are the people at 197, Hackworth Road?"

  "The capitalist lives there--the financier, and probably the directingspirit of the whole thing. Merston's the name he goes by there, and I'veno doubt he cuts a very imposing figure in chapel every Sunday. He'll beworth picking up--this isn't the first thing he's been in, I'llwarrant."

  "But--but what about Laker's mother and Miss Shaw?"

  "Well, what? The poor women are nearly out of their minds with terrorand shame, that's all, but though they may think Laker a criminal,they'll never desert him. They've been following us about with a feeble,vague sort of hope of being able to baffle us in some way or help him ifwe caught him, or something, poor things. Did you ever hear of a realwoman who'd desert a son or a lover merely because he was a criminal?But here's the doctor. When he's attended to him will you let your mentake Laker home? I must hurry and report to the Guarantee Society, Ithink."

  "But," said the perplexed Plummer, "where did you get your clue? Youmust have had a tip from some one, you know--you can't have done it byclairvoyance. What gave you the tip?"

  "The _Daily Chronicle_."

  "The _what_?"

  "The _Daily Chronicle_. Just take a look at the 'agony column' inyesterday morning's issue, and read the message to 'Yob'--to Gunter, infact. That's all."

  By this time a cab was waiting in Lombard Street, and two of Plummer'smen, under the doctor's directions, carried Laker to it. No sooner,however, were they in the court than the two watching women threwthemselves hysterically upon Laker, and it was long before they could bepersuaded that he was not being taken to gaol. The mother shriekedaloud, "My boy--my boy! Don't take him! Oh, don't take him! They'vekilled my boy! Look at his head--oh, his head!" and wrestled desperatelywith the men, while Hewitt attempted to soothe her, and prom
ised toallow her to go in the cab with her son if she would only be quiet. Theyounger woman made no noise, but she held one of Laker's limp hands inboth hers.

  Hewitt and I dined together that evening, and he gave me a full accountof the occurrences which I have here set down. Still, when he wasfinished I was not able to see clearly by what process of reasoning hehad arrived at the conclusions that gave him the key to the mystery, nordid I understand the "agony column" message, and I said so.

  "In the beginning," Hewitt explained, "the thing that struck me ascurious was the fact that Laker was said to have given his own name atPalmer's in buying his ticket. Now, the first thing the greenest andnewest criminal thinks of is changing his name, so that the giving ofhis own name seemed unlikely to begin with. Still, he _might_ have madesuch a mistake, as Plummer suggested when he said that criminals usuallymake a mistake somewhere--as they do, in fact. Still, it was the leastlikely mistake I could think of--especially as he actually didn't waitto be asked for his name, but blurted it out when it wasn't reallywanted. And it was conjoined with another rather curious mistake, orwhat would have been a mistake if the thief were Laker. Why should heconspicuously display his wallet--such a distinctive article--for theclerk to see and note? Why rather had he not got rid of it beforeshowing himself? Suppose it should be somebody personating Laker? In anycase I determined not to be prejudiced by what I had heard of Laker'sbetting. A man may bet without being a thief.

  "But, again, supposing it _were_ Laker? Might he not have given hisname, and displayed his wallet, and so on, while buying a ticket forFrance, in order to draw pursuit after himself in that direction whilehe made off in another, in another name, and disguised? Each suppositionwas plausible. And, in either case, it might happen that whoever waslaying this trail would probably lay it a little farther. Charing Crosswas the next point, and there I went. I already had it from Plummer thatLaker had not been recognised there. Perhaps the trail had been laid insome other manner. Something left behind with Laker's name on it,perhaps? I at once thought of the umbrella with his monogram, and,making a long shot, asked for it at the lost property office, as youknow. The guess was lucky. In the umbrella, as you know, I found thatscrap of paper. That, I judged, had fallen in from the hand of the mancarrying the umbrella. He had torn the paper in half in order to flingit away, and one piece had fallen into the loosely flapping umbrella. Itis a thing that will often happen with an omnibus ticket, as you mayhave noticed. Also, it was proved that the umbrella _was_ unrolled whenfound, and rolled immediately after. So here was a piece of paperdropped by the person who had brought the umbrella to Charing Cross andleft it. I got the whole advertisement, as you remember, and I studiedit. 'Yob' is back-slang for 'boy,' and it is often used in nicknames todenote a young smooth-faced thief. Gunter, the man I suspect, as amatter of fact, is known as the 'Hoxton Yob.' The message, then, wasaddressed to some one known by such a nickname. Next, 'H.R. shop roast.'Now, in thieves' slang, to 'roast' a thing or a person is to watch it orhim. They call any place a shop--notably, a thieves' den. So that thismeant that some resort--perhaps the 'Hoxton Row shop'--was watched. 'You1st then to-night' would be clearer, perhaps, when the rest wasunderstood. I thought a little over the rest, and it struck me that itmust be a direction to some other house, since one was warned of asbeing watched. Besides, there was the number, 197, and 'red bl.,' whichwould be extremely likely to mean 'red blinds,' by way of clearlydistinguishing the house. And then the plan of the thing was plain. Youhave noticed, probably, that the map of London which accompanies thePost Office Directory is divided, for convenience of reference, intonumbered squares?"

  "Yes. The squares are denoted by letters along the top margin andfigures down the side. So that if you consult the directory, and find aplace marked as being in D 5, for instance, you find vertical divisionsD, and run your finger down it till it intersects horizontal division 5,and there you are."

  "Precisely. I got my Post Office Directory, and looked for 'O 2.' It wasin North London, and took in parts of Abney Park Cemetery and ClissoldPark; '2nd top' was the next sign. Very well, I counted the secondstreet intersecting the top of the square--counting, in the usual way,from the left. That was Lordship Road. Then, '3rd L.' From the pointwhere Lordship Road crossed the top of the square, I ran my finger downthe road till it came to '3rd L,' or, in other words, the third turningon the left--Hackworth Road. So there we were, unless my guesses werealtogether wrong. 'Straight mon' probably meant 'straight moniker'--thatis to say, the proper name, a thief's _real_ name, in contradistinctionto that he may assume. I turned over the directory till I foundHackworth Road, and found that No. 197 was inhabited by a Mr. Merston.From the whole thing I judged this. There was to have been a meeting atthe 'H.R. shop,' but that was found, at the last moment, to be watchedby the police for some purpose, so that another appointment was made forthis house in the suburbs. 'You 1st. Then to-night'--the personaddressed was to come first, and the others in the evening. They were toask for the householder's 'straight moniker'--Mr. Merston. And they wereto come one at a time.

  "Now, then, what was this? What theory would fit it? Suppose this were arobbery, directed from afar by the advertiser. Suppose, on the daybefore the robbery, it was found that the place fixed for division ofspoils were watched. Suppose that the principal thereupon advertised (ashad already been agreed in case of emergency) in these terms. Theprincipal in the actual robbery--the 'Yob' addressed--was to go firstwith the booty. The others were to come after, one at a time. Anyway,the thing was good enough to follow a little further, and I determinedto try No. 197, Hackworth Road. I have told you what I found there, andhow it opened my eyes. I went, of course, merely on chance, to see whatI might chance to see. But luck favoured, and I happened on thatcoat--brought back rolled up, on the evening after the robbery,doubtless by the thief who had used it, and flung carelessly into thehandiest cupboard. _That_ was this gang's mistake."

  "Well, I congratulate you," I said. "I hope they'll catch the rascals."

  "I rather think they will, now they know where to look. They canscarcely miss Merston, anyway. There has been very little to go upon inthis case, but I stuck to the thread, however slight, and it brought methrough. The rest of the case, of course, is Plummer's. It was apeculiarity of my commission that I could equally well fulfil it bycatching the man with all the plunder, or by proving him innocent.Having done the latter, my work was at an end, but I left it wherePlummer will be able to finish the job handsomely."

  Plummer did. Sam Gunter, Merston, and one accomplice were taken--thefirst and last were well known to the police--and were identified byLaker. Merston, as Hewitt had suspected, had kept the lion's share forhimself, so that altogether, with what was recovered from him and theother two, nearly L11,000 was saved for Messrs. Liddle, Neal & Liddle.Merston, when taken, was in the act of packing up to take a holidayabroad, and there cash his notes, which were found, neatly packed inseparate thousands, in his portmanteau. As Hewitt had predicted, hisgas bill _was_ considerably less next quarter, for less than half-waythrough it he began a term in gaol.

  As for Laker, he was reinstated, of course, with an increase of salaryby way of compensation for his broken head. He had passed a terribletwenty-six hours in the cellar, unfed and unheard. Several times he hadbecome insensible, and again and again he had thrown himself madlyagainst the door, shouting and tearing at it, till he fell backexhausted, with broken nails and bleeding fingers. For some hours beforethe arrival of his rescuers he had been sitting in a sort of stupor,from which he was suddenly aroused by the sound of voices and footsteps.He was in bed for a week, and required a rest of a month in additionbefore he could resume his duties. Then he was quietly lectured by Mr.Neal as to betting, and, I believe, dropped that practice inconsequence. I am told that he is "at the counter" now--a considerablepromotion.