III
THE ANTHROPOLOGIST AT LARGE
Thorndyke was not a newspaper reader. He viewed with extreme disfavourall scrappy and miscellaneous forms of literature, which, by presentinga disorderly series of unrelated items of information, tended, as heconsidered, to destroy the habit of consecutive mental effort.
"It is most important," he once remarked to me, "habitually to pursue adefinite train of thought, and to pursue it to a finish, instead offlitting indolently from one uncompleted topic to another, as thenewspaper reader is so apt to do. Still, there is no harm in a dailypaper--so long as you don't read it."
Accordingly, he patronized a morning paper, and his method of dealingwith it was characteristic. The paper was laid on the table afterbreakfast, together with a blue pencil and a pair of office shears. Apreliminary glance through the sheets enabled him to mark with thepencil those paragraphs that were to be read, and these were presentlycut out and looked through, after which they were either thrown away orset aside to be pasted in an indexed book.
The whole proceeding occupied, on an average, a quarter of an hour.
On the morning of which I am now speaking he was thus engaged. Thepencil had done its work, and the snick of the shears announced thefinal stage. Presently he paused with a newly-excised cutting betweenhis fingers, and, after glancing at it for a moment, he handed it to me.
"Another art robbery," he remarked. "Mysterious affairs, these--as tomotive, I mean. You can't melt down a picture or an ivory carving, andyou can't put them on the market as they stand. The very qualities thatgive them their value make them totally unnegotiable."
"Yet I suppose," said I, "the really inveterate collector--the potteryor stamp maniac, for instance--will buy these contraband goods eventhough he dare not show them."
"Probably. No doubt the _cupiditas habendi_, the mere desire to possess,is the motive force rather than any intelligent purpose--"
The discussion was at this point interrupted by a knock at the door, anda moment later my colleague admitted two gentlemen. One of these Irecognized as a Mr. Marchmont, a solicitor, for whom we had occasionallyacted; the other was a stranger--a typical Hebrew of the blondetype--good-looking, faultlessly dressed, carrying a bandbox, andobviously in a state of the most extreme agitation.
"Good-morning to you, gentlemen," said Mr. Marchmont, shaking handscordially. "I have brought a client of mine to see you, and when I tellyou that his name is Solomon Loewe, it will be unnecessary for me to saywhat our business is."
"Oddly enough," replied Thorndyke, "we were, at the very moment when youknocked, discussing the bearings of his case."
"It is a horrible affair!" burst in Mr. Loewe. "I am distracted! I amruined! I am in despair!"
He banged the bandbox down on the table, and flinging himself into achair, buried his face in his hands.
"Come, come," remonstrated Marchmont, "we must be brave, we must becomposed. Tell Dr. Thorndyke your story, and let us hear what he thinksof it."
He leaned back in his chair, and looked at his client with that air ofpatient fortitude that comes to us all so easily when we contemplate themisfortunes of other people.
"You must help us, sir," exclaimed Loewe, starting up again--"you must,indeed, or I shall go mad. But I shall tell you what has happened, andthen you must act at once. Spare no effort and no expense. Money is noobject--at least, not in reason," he added, with native caution. He satdown once more, and in perfect English, though with a slight Germanaccent, proceeded volubly: "My brother Isaac is probably known to you byname."
Thorndyke nodded.
"He is a great collector, and to some extent a dealer--that is to say,he makes his hobby a profitable hobby."
"What does he collect?" asked Thorndyke.
"Everything," replied our visitor, flinging his hands apart with acomprehensive gesture--"everything that is precious andbeautiful--pictures, ivories, jewels, watches, objects of art and_vertu_--everything. He is a Jew, and he has that passion for thingsthat are rich and costly that has distinguished our race from the timeof my namesake Solomon onwards. His house in Howard Street, Piccadilly,is at once a museum and an art gallery. The rooms are filled with casesof gems, of antique jewellery, of coins and historic relics--some ofpriceless value--and the walls are covered with paintings, every one ofwhich is a masterpiece. There is a fine collection of ancient weaponsand armour, both European and Oriental; rare books, manuscripts, papyri,and valuable antiquities from Egypt, Assyria, Cyprus, and elsewhere. Yousee, his taste is quite catholic, and his knowledge of rare and curiousthings is probably greater than that of any other living man. He isnever mistaken. No forgery deceives him, and hence the great prices thathe obtains; for a work of art purchased from Isaac Loewe is a workcertified as genuine beyond all cavil."
He paused to mop his face with a silk handkerchief, and then, with thesame plaintive volubility, continued:
"My brother is unmarried. He lives for his collection, and he lives withit. The house is not a very large one, and the collection takes up mostof it; but he keeps a suite of rooms for his own occupation, and has twoservants--a man and wife--to look after him. The man, who is a retiredpolice sergeant, acts as caretaker and watchman; the woman ashousekeeper and cook, if required, but my brother lives largely at hisclub. And now I come to this present catastrophe."
He ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and continued:
"Yesterday morning Isaac started for Florence by way of Paris, but hisroute was not certain, and he intended to break his journey at variouspoints as circumstances determined. Before leaving, he put hiscollection in my charge, and it was arranged that I should occupy hisrooms in his absence. Accordingly, I sent my things round and tookpossession.
"Now, Dr. Thorndyke, I am closely connected with the drama, and it is mycustom to spend my evenings at my club, of which most of the members areactors. Consequently, I am rather late in my habits; but last night Iwas earlier than usual in leaving my club, for I started for mybrother's house before half-past twelve. I felt, as you may suppose, theresponsibility of the great charge I had undertaken; and you may,therefore, imagine my horror, my consternation, my despair, when, onletting myself in with my latchkey, I found a police-inspector, asergeant, and a constable in the hall. There had been a robbery, sir, inmy brief absence, and the account that the inspector gave of the affairwas briefly this:
"While taking the round of his district, he had noticed an empty hansomproceeding in leisurely fashion along Howard Street. There was nothingremarkable in this, but when, about ten minutes later, he was returning,and met a hansom, which he believed to be the same, proceeding along thesame street in the same direction, and at the same easy pace, thecircumstance struck him as odd, and he made a note of the number of thecab in his pocket-book. It was 72,863, and the time was 11.35.
"At 11.45 a constable coming up Howard Street noticed a hansom standingopposite the door of my brother's house, and, while he was looking atit, a man came out of the house carrying something, which he put in thecab. On this the constable quickened his pace, and when the man returnedto the house and reappeared carrying what looked like a portmanteau, andclosing the door softly behind him, the policeman's suspicions werearoused, and he hurried forward, hailing the cabman to stop.
"The man put his burden into the cab, and sprang in himself. The cabmanlashed his horse, which started off at a gallop, and the policeman brokeinto a run, blowing his whistle and flashing his lantern on to the cab.He followed it round the two turnings into Albemarle Street, and wasjust in time to see it turn into Piccadilly, where, of course, it waslost. However, he managed to note the number of the cab, which was72,863, and he describes the man as short and thick-set, and thinks hewas not wearing any hat.
"As he was returning, he met the inspector and the sergeant, who hadheard the whistle, and on his report the three officers hurried to thehouse, where they knocked and rang for some minutes without any result.Being now more than suspicious, they went to the back of
the house,through the mews, where, with great difficulty, they managed to force awindow and effect an entrance into the house.
"Here their suspicions were soon changed to certainty, for, on reachingthe first-floor, they heard strange muffled groans proceeding from oneof the rooms, the door of which was locked, though the key had not beenremoved. They opened the door, and found the caretaker and his wifesitting on the floor, with their backs against the wall. Both were boundhand and foot, and the head of each was enveloped in a green-baize bag;and when the bags were taken off, each was found to be lightly buteffectively gagged.
"Each told the same story. The caretaker, fancying he heard a noise,armed himself with a truncheon, and came downstairs to the first-floor,where he found the door of one of the rooms open, and a light burninginside. He stepped on tiptoe to the open door, and was peering in, whenhe was seized from behind, half suffocated by a pad held over his mouth,pinioned, gagged, and blindfolded with the bag.
"His assailant--whom he never saw--was amazingly strong and skilful, andhandled him with perfect ease, although he--the caretaker--is a powerfulman, and a good boxer and wrestler. The same thing happened to the wife,who had come down to look for her husband. She walked into the sametrap, and was gagged, pinioned, and blindfolded without ever having soonthe robber. So the only description that we have of this villain is thatfurnished by the constable."
"And the caretaker had no chance of using his truncheon?" saidThorndyke.
"Well, he got in one backhanded blow over his right shoulder, which hethinks caught the burglar in the face; but the fellow caught him by theelbow, and gave his arm such a twist that he dropped the truncheon onthe floor."
"Is the robbery a very extensive one?"
"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Loewe, "that is just what we cannot say. But I fearit is. It seems that my brother had quite recently drawn out of his bankfour thousand pounds in notes and gold. These little transactions areoften carried out in cash rather than by cheque"--here I caught atwinkle in Thorndyke's eve--"and the caretaker says that a few days agoIsaac brought home several parcels, which were put away temporarily in astrong cupboard. He seemed to be very pleased with his new acquisitions,and gave the caretaker to understand that they were of extraordinaryrarity and value.
"Now, this cupboard has been cleared out. Not a vestige is left in itbut the wrappings of the parcels, so, although nothing else has beentouched, it is pretty clear that goods to the value of four thousandpounds have been taken; but when we consider what an excellent buyer mybrother is, it becomes highly probable that the actual value of thosethings is two or three times that amount, or even more. It is adreadful, dreadful business, and Isaac will hold me responsible for itall."
"Is there no further clue?" asked Thorndyke. "What about the cab, forinstance?"
"Oh, the cab," groaned Loewe--"that clue failed. The police must havemistaken the number. They telephoned immediately to all the policestations, and a watch was set, with the result that number 72,863 wasstopped as it was going home for the night. But it then turned out thatthe cab had not been off the rank since eleven o'clock, and the driverhad been in the shelter all the time with several other men. But thereis a clue; I have it here."
Mr. Loewe's face brightened for once as he reached out for the bandbox.
"The houses in Howard Street," he explained, as he untied the fastening,"have small balconies to the first-floor windows at the back. Now, thethief entered by one of these windows, having climbed up a rain-waterpipe to the balcony. It was a gusty night, as you will remember, andthis morning, as I was leaving the house, the butler next door called tome and gave me this; he had found it lying in the balcony of his house."
He opened the bandbox with a flourish, and brought forth a rather shabbybillycock hat.
"I understand," said he, "that by examining a hat it is possible todeduce from it, not only the bodily characteristics of the wearer, butalso his mental and moral qualities, his state of health, his pecuniaryposition, his past history, and even his domestic relations and thepeculiarities of his place of abode. Am I right in this supposition?"
The ghost of a smile flitted across Thorndyke's face as he laid the hatupon the remains of the newspaper. "We must not expect too much," heobserved. "Hats, as you know, have a way of changing owners. Your ownhat, for instance" (a very spruce, hard felt), "is a new one, I think."
"Got it last week," said Mr. Loewe.
"Exactly. It is an expensive hat, by Lincoln and Bennett, and I see youhave judiciously written your name in indelible marking-ink on thelining. Now, a new hat suggests a discarded predecessor. What do you dowith your old hats?"
"My man has them, but they don't fit him. I suppose he sells them orgives them away."
"Very well. Now, a good hat like yours has a long life, and remainsserviceable long after it has become shabby; and the probability is thatmany of your hats pass from owner to owner; from you to theshabby-genteel, and from them to the shabby ungenteel. And it is a fairassumption that there are, at this moment, an appreciable number oftramps and casuals wearing hats by Lincoln and Bennett, marked inindelible ink with the name S. Loewe; and anyone who should examine thosehats, as you suggest, might draw some very misleading deductions as tothe personal habits of S. Loewe."
Mr. Marchmont chuckled audibly, and then, remembering the gravity ofthe occasion, suddenly became portentously solemn.
"So you think that the hat is of no use, after all?" said Mr. Loewe, in atone of deep disappointment.
"I won't say that," replied Thorndyke. "We may learn something from it.Leave it with me, at any rate; but you must let the police know that Ihave it. They will want to see it, of course."
"And you will try to get those things, won't you?" pleaded Loewe.
"I will think over the case. But you understand, or Mr. Marchmont does,that this is hardly in my province. I am a medical jurist, and this isnot a medico-legal case."
"Just what I told him," said Marchmont. "But you will do me a greatkindness if you will look into the matter. Make it a medico-legal case,"he added persuasively.
Thorndyke repeated his promise, and the two men took their departure.
For some time after they had left, my colleague remained silent,regarding the hat with a quizzical smile. "It is like a game offorfeits," he remarked at length, "and we have to find the owner of'this very pretty thing.'" He lifted it with a pair of forceps into abetter light, and began to look at it more closely.
"Perhaps," said he, "we have done Mr. Loewe an injustice, after all. Thisis certainly a very remarkable hat."
"It is as round as a basin," I exclaimed. "Why, the fellow's head musthave been turned in a lathe!"
Thorndyke laughed. "The point," said he, "is this. This is a hard hat,and so must have fitted fairly, or it could not have been worn; and itwas a cheap hat, and so was not made to measure. But a man with a headthat shape has got to come to a clear understanding with his hat. Noordinary hat would go on at all.
"Now, you see what he has done--no doubt on the advice of some friendlyhatter. He has bought a hat of a suitable size, and he has made ithot--probably steamed it. Then he has jammed it, while still hot andsoft, on to his head, and allowed it to cool and set before removing it.That is evident from the distortion of the brim. The important corollaryis, that this hat fits his head exactly--is, in fact, a perfect mould ofit; and this fact, together with the cheap quality of the hat, furnishesthe further corollary that it has probably only had a single owner.
"And now let us turn it over and look at the outside. You notice at oncethe absence of old dust. Allowing for the circumstance that it had beenout all night, it is decidedly clean. Its owner has been in the habit ofbrushing it, and is therefore presumably a decent, orderly man. But ifyou look at it in a good light, you see a kind of bloom on the felt, andthrough this lens you can make out particles of a fine white powderwhich has worked into the surface."
He handed me his lens, through which I could distinctly see theparticles to which he referred. r />
"Then," he continued, "under the curl of the brim and in the folds ofthe hatband, where the brush has not been able to reach it, the powderhas collected quite thickly, and we can see that it is a very finepowder, and very white, like flour. What do you make of that?"
"I should say that it is connected with some industry. He may beengaged in some factory or works, or, at any rate, may live near afactory, and have to pass it frequently."
"Yes; and I think we can distinguish between the two possibilities. For,if he only passes the factory, the dust will be on the outside of thehat only; the inside will be protected by his head. But if he is engagedin the works, the dust will be inside, too, as the hat will hang on apeg in the dust-laden atmosphere, and his head will also be powdered,and so convey the dust to the inside."
He turned the hat over once more, and as I brought the powerful lens tobear upon the dark lining, I could clearly distinguish a number of whiteparticles in the interstices of the fabric.
"The powder is on the inside, too," I said.
He took the lens from me, and, having verified my statement, proceededwith the examination. "You notice," he said, "that the leatherhead-lining is stained with grease, and this staining is more pronouncedat the sides and back. His hair, therefore, is naturally greasy, or hegreases it artificially; for if the staining were caused byperspiration, it would be most marked opposite the forehead."
He peered anxiously into the interior of the hat, and eventually turneddown the head-lining; and immediately there broke out upon his face agleam of satisfaction.
"Ha!" he exclaimed. "This is a stroke of luck. I was afraid our neat andorderly friend had defeated us with his brush. Pass me the smalldissecting forceps, Jervis."
I handed him the instrument, and he proceeded to pick out daintily fromthe space behind the head-lining some half a dozen short pieces ofhair, which he laid, with infinite tenderness, on a sheet of whitepaper.
"There are several more on the other side," I said, pointing them out tohim.
"Yes, but we must leave some for the police," he answered, with a smile."They must have the same chance as ourselves, you know."
"But surely," I said, as I bent down over the paper, "these are piecesof horsehair!"
"I think not," he replied; "but the microscope will show. At any rate,this is the kind of hair I should expect to find with a head of thatshape."
"Well, it is extraordinarily coarse," said I, "and two of the hairs arenearly white."
"Yes; black hairs beginning to turn grey. And now, as our preliminarysurvey has given such encouraging results, we will proceed to more exactmethods; and we must waste no time, for we shall have the police herepresently to rob us of our treasure."
He folded up carefully the paper containing the hairs, and taking thehat in both hands, as though it were some sacred vessel, ascended withme to the laboratory on the next floor.
"Now, Polton," he said to his laboratory assistant, "we have here aspecimen for examination, and time is precious. First of all, we wantyour patent dust-extractor."
The little man bustled to a cupboard and brought forth a singularappliance, of his own manufacture, somewhat like a miniature vacuumcleaner. It had been made from a bicycle foot-pump, by reversing thepiston-valve, and was fitted with a glass nozzle and a small detachableglass receiver for collecting the dust, at the end of a flexible metaltube.
"We will sample the dust from the outside first," said Thorndyke, layingthe hat upon the work-bench. "Are you ready, Polton?"
The assistant slipped his foot into the stirrup of the pump and workedthe handle vigorously, while Thorndyke drew the glass nozzle slowlyalong the hat-brim under the curled edge. And as the nozzle passedalong, the white coating vanished as if by magic, leaving the feltabsolutely clean and black, and simultaneously the glass receiver becameclouded over with a white deposit.
"We will leave the other side for the police," said Thorndyke, and asPolton ceased pumping he detached the receiver, and laid it on a sheetof paper, on which he wrote in pencil, "Outside," and covered it with asmall bell-glass. A fresh receiver having been fitted on, the nozzle wasnow drawn over the silk lining of the hat, and then through the spacebehind the leather head-lining on one side; and now the dust thatcollected in the receiver was much of the usual grey colour and fluffytexture, and included two more hairs.
"And now," said Thorndyke, when the second receiver had been detachedand set aside, "we want a mould of the inside of the hat, and we mustmake it by the quickest method; there is no time to make a paper mould.It is a most astonishing head," he added, reaching down from a nail apair of large callipers, which he applied to the inside of the hat; "sixinches and nine-tenths long by six and six-tenths broad, which givesus"--he made a rapid calculation on a scrap of paper--"theextraordinarily high cephalic index of 95.6."
Polton now took possession of the hat, and, having stuck a band of wettissue-paper round the inside, mixed a small bowl of plaster-of-Paris,and very dexterously ran a stream of the thick liquid on to thetissue-paper, where it quickly solidified. A second and thirdapplication resulted in a broad ring of solid plaster an inch thick,forming a perfect mould of the inside of the hat, and in a few minutesthe slight contraction of the plaster in setting rendered the mouldsufficiently loose to allow of its being slipped out on to a board todry.
We were none too soon, for even as Polton was removing the mould, theelectric bell, which I had switched on to the laboratory, announced avisitor, and when I went down I found a police-sergeant waiting with anote from Superintendent Miller, requesting the immediate transfer ofthe hat.
"The next thing to be done," said Thorndyke, when the sergeant haddeparted with the bandbox, "is to measure the thickness of the hairs,and make a transverse section of one, and examine the dust. The sectionwe will leave to Polton--as time is an object, Polton, you had betterimbed the hair in thick gum and freeze it hard on the microtome, and bevery careful to cut the section at right angles to the length of thehair--meanwhile, we will get to work with the microscope."
The hairs proved on measurement to have the surprisingly large diameterof 1/135 of an inch--fully double that of ordinary hairs, although theywere unquestionably human. As to the white dust, it presented a problemthat even Thorndyke was unable to solve. The application of reagentsshowed it to be carbonate of lime, but its source for a time remained amystery.
"The larger particles," said Thorndyke, with his eye applied to themicroscope, "appear to be transparent, crystalline, and distinctlylaminated in structure. It is not chalk, it is not whiting, it is notany kind of cement. What can it be?"
"Could it be any kind of shell?" I suggested. "For instance--"
"Of course!" he exclaimed, starting up; "you have hit it, Jervis, as youalways do. It must be mother-of-pearl. Polton, give me a pearlshirt-button out of your oddments box."
The button was duly produced by the thrifty Polton, dropped into anagate mortar, and speedily reduced to powder, a tiny pinch of whichThorndyke placed under the microscope.
"This powder," said he, "is, naturally, much coarser than our specimen,but the identity of character is unmistakable. Jervis, you are atreasure. Just look at it."
I glanced down the microscope, and then pulled out my watch. "Yes," Isaid, "there is no doubt about it, I think; but I must be off. Ansteyurged me to be in court by 11.30 at the latest."
With infinite reluctance I collected my notes and papers and departed,leaving Thorndyke diligently copying addresses out of the Post OfficeDirectory.
My business at the court detained me the whole of the day, and it wasnear upon dinner-time when I reached our chambers. Thorndyke had not yetcome in, but he arrived half an hour later, tired and hungry, and notvery communicative.
"What have I done?" he repeated, in answer to my inquiries. "I havewalked miles of dirty pavement, and I have visited every pearl-shellcutter's in London, with one exception, and I have not found what Iwas looking for. The one mother-of-pearl factory that remains, however,is the most likel
y, and I propose to look in there to-morrow morning.Meanwhile, we have completed our data, with Polton's assistance. Here isa tracing of our friend's skull taken from the mould; you see it is anextreme type of brachycephalic skull, and markedly unsymmetrical. Hereis a transverse section of his hair, which is quite circular--unlikeyours or mine, which would be oval. We have the mother-of-pearl dustfrom the outside of the hat, and from the inside similar dust mixed withvarious fibres and a few granules of rice starch. Those are our data."
TRANSVERSE SECTIONS OF HUMAN HAIR: _A_, OF A NEGRO; _B_,OF AN ENGLISHMAN; _C_, OF THE BURGLAR. ALL MAGNIFIED 600 DIAMETERS.]
"Supposing the hat should not be that of the burglar after all?" Isuggested.
"That would be annoying. But I think it is his, and I think I can guessat the nature of the art treasures that were stolen."
"And you don't intend to enlighten me?"
"My dear fellow," he replied, "you have all the data. Enlighten yourselfby the exercise of your own brilliant faculties. Don't give way tomental indolence."
I endeavoured, from the facts in my possession, to construct thepersonality of the mysterious burglar, and failed utterly; nor was Imore successful in my endeavour to guess at the nature of the stolenproperty; and it was not until the following morning, when we had setout on our quest and were approaching Limehouse, that Thorndyke wouldrevert to the subject.
"We are now," he said, "going to the factory of Badcomb and Martin,shell importers and cutters, in the West India Dock Road. If I don'tfind my man there, I shall hand the facts over to the police, and wasteno more time over the case."
"What is your man like?" I asked.
"I am looking for an elderly Japanese, wearing a new hat or, moreprobably, a cap, and having a bruise on his right cheek or temple. I amalso looking for a cab-yard; but here we are at the works, and as it isnow close on the dinner-hour, we will wait and see the hands come outbefore making any inquiries."
We walked slowly past the tall, blank-faced building, and were justturning to re-pass it when a steam whistle sounded, a wicket opened inthe main gate, and a stream of workmen--each powdered with white, like amiller--emerged into the street. We halted to watch the men as they cameout, one by one, through the wicket, and turned to the right or lefttowards their homes or some adjacent coffee-shop; but none of themanswered to the description that my friend had given.
The outcoming stream grew thinner, and at length ceased; the wicket wasshut with a bang, and once more Thorndyke's quest appeared to havefailed.
"Is that all of them, I wonder?" he said, with a shade of disappointmentin his tone; but even as he spoke the wicket opened again, and a legprotruded. The leg was followed by a back and a curious globular head,covered with iron-grey hair, and surmounted by a cloth cap, the wholeappertaining to a short, very thick-set man, who remained thus,evidently talking to someone inside.
Suddenly he turned his head to look across the street; and immediately Irecognized, by the pallid yellow complexion and narrow eye-slits, thephysiognomy of a typical Japanese. The man remained talking for nearlyanother minute; then, drawing out his other leg, he turned towards us;and now I perceived that the right side of his face, over the prominentcheekbone, was discoloured as though by a severe bruise.
"Ha!" said Thorndyke, turning round sharply as the man approached,"either this is our man or it is an incredible coincidence." He walkedaway at a moderate pace, allowing the Japanese to overtake us slowly,and when the man had at length passed us, he increased his speedsomewhat, so as to maintain the distance.
Our friend stepped along briskly, and presently turned up a side street,whither we followed at a respectful distance, Thorndyke holding open hispocket-book, and appearing to engage me in an earnest discussion, butkeeping a sharp eye on his quarry.
"There he goes!" said my colleague, as the man suddenlydisappeared--"the house with the green window-sashes. That will benumber thirteen."
It was; and, having verified the fact, we passed on, and took the nextturning that would lead us back to the main road.
Some twenty minutes later, as we were strolling past the door of acoffee-shop, a man came out, and began to fill his pipe with an air ofleisurely satisfaction. His hat and clothes were powdered with whitelike those of the workmen whom we had seen come out of the factory.Thorndyke accosted him.
"Is that a flour-mill up the road there?"
"No, sir; pearl-shell. I work there myself."
"Pearl-shell, eh?" said Thorndyke. "I suppose that will be an industrythat will tend to attract the aliens. Do you find it so?"
"No, sir; not at all. The work's too hard. We've only got one foreignerin the place, and he ain't an alien--he's a Jap."
"A Jap!" exclaimed Thorndyke. "Really. Now, I wonder if that wouldchance to be our old friend Kotei--you remember Kotei?" he added,turning to me.
"No, sir; this man's name is Futashima. There was another Jap in theworks, a chap named Itu, a pal of Futashima's, but he's left."
"Ah! I don't know either of them. By the way, usen't there to be acab-yard just about here?"
"There's a yard up Rankin Street where they keep vans and one or twocabs. That chap Itu works there now. Taken to horseflesh. Drives a vansometimes. Queer start for a Jap."
"Very." Thorndyke thanked the man for his information, and we saunteredon towards Rankin Street. The yard was at this time nearly deserted,being occupied only by an ancient and crazy four-wheeler and a veryshabby hansom.
"Curious old houses, these that back on to the yard," said Thorndyke,strolling into the enclosure. "That timber gable, now," pointing to ahouse, from a window of which a man was watching us suspiciously, "isquite an interesting survival."
"What's your business, mister?" demanded the man in a gruff tone.
"We are just having a look at these quaint old houses," repliedThorndyke, edging towards the back of the hansom, and opening hispocket-book, as though to make a sketch.
"Well, you can see 'em from outside," said the man.
THORNDYKE'S STRATEGY.]
"So we can," said Thorndyke suavely, "but not so well, you know."
At this moment the pocket-book slipped from his hand and fell,scattering a number of loose papers about the ground under the hansom,and our friend at the window laughed joyously.
"No hurry," murmured Thorndyke, as I stooped to help him to gather upthe papers--which he did in the most surprisingly slow and clumsymanner. "It is fortunate that the ground is dry." He stood up with therescued papers in his hand, and, having scribbled down a brief note,slipped the book in his pocket.
"Now you'd better mizzle," observed the man at the window.
"Thank you," replied Thorndyke, "I think we had;" and, with a pleasantnod at the custodian, he proceeded to adopt the hospitable suggestion.
* * * * *
"Mr. Marchmont has been here, sir, with Inspector Badger and anothergentleman," said Polton, as we entered our chambers. "They said theywould call again about five."
"Then," replied Thorndyke, "as it is now a quarter to five, there isjust time for us to have a wash while you get the tea ready. Theparticles that float in the atmosphere of Limehouse are not allmother-of-pearl."
Our visitors arrived punctually, the third gentleman being, as we hadsupposed, Mr. Solomon Loewe. Inspector Badger I had not seen before, andhe now impressed me as showing a tendency to invert the significance ofhis own name by endeavouring to "draw" Thorndyke; in which, however, hewas not brilliantly successful.
"I hope you are not going to disappoint Mr. Loewe, sir," he commencedfacetiously. "You have had a good look at that hat--we saw your marks onit--and he expects that you will be able to point us out the man, nameand address all complete." He grinned patronizingly at our unfortunateclient, who was looking even more haggard and worn than he had been onthe previous morning.
"Have you--have you made any--discovery?" Mr Loewe asked with patheticeagerness.
"We examined the hat very carefully, and I think we have
established afew facts of some interest."
"Did your examination of the hat furnish any information as to thenature of the stolen property, sir?" inquired the humorous inspector.
Thorndyke turned to the officer with a face as expressionless as awooden mask.
"We thought it possible," said he, "that it might consist of works ofJapanese art, such as netsukes, paintings, and such like."
Mr. Loewe uttered an exclamation of delighted astonishment, and thefacetiousness faded rather suddenly from the inspector's countenance.
"I don't know how you can have found out," said he. "We have only knownit half an hour ourselves, and the wire came direct from Florence toScotland Yard."
"Perhaps you can describe the thief to us," said Mr. Loewe, in the sameeager tone.
"I dare say the inspector can do that," replied Thorndyke.
"Yes, I think so," replied the officer. "He is a short strong man, witha dark complexion and hair turning grey. He has a very round head, andhe is probably a workman engaged at some whiting or cement works. Thatis all we know; if you can tell us any more, sir, we shall be very gladto hear it."
"I can only offer a few suggestions," said Thorndyke, "but perhaps youmay find them useful. For instance, at 13, Birket Street, Limehouse,there is living a Japanese gentleman named Futashima, who works atBadcomb and Martin's mother-of-pearl factory. I think that if you wereto call on him, and let him try on the hat that you have, it wouldprobably fit him."
The inspector scribbled ravenously in his notebook, and Mr.Marchmont--an old admirer of Thorndyke's--leaned back in his chair,chuckling softly and rubbing his hands.
"Then," continued my colleague, "there is in Rankin Street, Limehouse, acab-yard, where another Japanese gentleman named Itu is employed. Youmight find out where Itu was the night before last; and if you shouldchance to see a hansom cab there--number 22,481--have a good look at it.In the frame of the number-plate you will find six small holes. Thoseholes may have held brads, and the brads may have held a false numbercard. At any rate, you might ascertain where that cab was at 11.30 thenight before last. That is all I have to suggest."
Mr. Loewe leaped from his chair. "Let us go--now--at once--there is notime to be lost. A thousand thanks to you, doctor--a thousand millionthanks. Come!"
He seized the inspector by the arm and forcibly dragged him towards thedoor, and a few moments later we heard the footsteps of our visitorsclattering down the stairs.
"It was not worth while to enter into explanations with them," saidThorndyke, as the footsteps died away--"nor perhaps with you?"
"On the contrary," I replied, "I am waiting to be fully enlightened."
"Well, then, my inferences in this case were perfectly simple ones,drawn from well-known anthropological facts. The human race, as youknow, is roughly divided into three groups--the black, the white, andthe yellow races. But apart from the variable quality of colour, theseraces have certain fixed characteristics associated especially with theshape of the skull, of the eye-sockets, and the hair.
"Thus in the black races the skull is long and narrow, the eye-socketsare long and narrow, and the hair is flat and ribbon-like, and usuallycoiled up like a watch-spring. In the white races the skull is oval, theeye-sockets are oval, and the hair is slightly flattened or oval insection, and tends to be wavy; while in the yellow or Mongol races, theskull is short and round, the eye-sockets are short and round, and thehair is straight and circular in section. So that we have, in the blackraces, long skull, long orbits, flat hair; in the white races, ovalskull, oval orbits, oval hair; and in the yellow races, round skull,round orbits, round hair.
"Now, in this case we had to deal with a very short round skull. But youcannot argue from races to individuals; there are many short-skulledEnglishmen. But when I found, associated with that skull, hairs whichwere circular in section, it became practically certain that theindividual was a Mongol of some kind. The mother-of-pearl dust and thegranules of rice starch from the inside of the hat favoured this view,for the pearl-shell industry is specially connected with China andJapan, while starch granules from the hat of an Englishman wouldprobably be wheat starch.
"Then as to the hair: it was, as I mentioned to you, circular insection, and of very large diameter. Now, I have examined many thousandsof hairs, and the thickest that I have ever seen came from the heads ofJapanese; but the hairs from this hat were as thick as any of them. Butthe hypothesis that the burglar was a Japanese received confirmation invarious ways. Thus, he was short, though strong and active, and theJapanese are the shortest of the Mongol races, and very strong andactive.
"Then his remarkable skill in handling the powerful caretaker--a retiredpolice-sergeant--suggested the Japanese art of ju-jitsu, while thenature of the robbery was consistent with the value set by the Japaneseon works of art. Finally, the fact that only a particular collection wastaken, suggested a special, and probably national, character in thethings stolen, while their portability--you will remember that goods ofthe value of from eight to twelve thousand pounds were taken away in twohand-packages--was much more consistent with Japanese than Chineseworks, of which the latter tend rather to be bulky and ponderous. Still,it was nothing but a bare hypothesis until we had seen Futashima--and,indeed, is no more now. I may, after all, be entirely mistaken."
He was not, however; and at this moment there reposes in my drawing-rooman ancient netsuke, which came as a thank-offering from Mr. Isaac Loeweon the recovery of the booty from a back room in No. 13, Birket Street,Limehouse. The treasure, of course, was given in the first place toThorndyke, but transferred by him to my wife on the pretence that butfor my suggestion of shell-dust the robber would never have been traced.Which is, on the face of it, preposterous.