CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MR. KILLICK'S OPINION
The old solicitor's trained eye and quick intelligence saw at once thatthis announcement immediately conveyed some significant meaning to histwo young visitors. Purdie and Lauriston, in fact, had immediately beenstruck by the similarity of the names Molteno and Multenius, and theyexchanged another look which their host detected and knew to convey ameaning. He leaned forward in his chair.
"Now, that strikes you--both!" he said. "What's all this about? Bettergive me your confidence."
"That's precisely what we came here to do, sir," responded Purdie, withalacrity. "And with your permission I'll tell you the whole story. It'sa long one, and a complicated one, Mr. Killick!--but I daresay you'veheard many intricate stories in the course of your legal experience,and you'll no doubt be able to see points in this that we haven't seen.Well, it's this way--and I'll begin at the beginning."
The old gentleman sat in an attitude of patient and watchful attentionwhile Purdie, occasionally prompted and supplemented by Lauriston, toldthe whole story of the Praed Street affair, from Lauriston's firstvisit to the pawnshop up to the events of that morning. Once or twicehe asked a question; one or twice he begged the narrator to pause whilehe considered a point: in the end he drew out his watch--after which heglanced out of his window.
"Do I gather that the taxi-cab which I see outside there is being keptby you two young men?" he asked.
"It is," answered Purdie. "It's important that we should lose no timein getting back to town, Mr. Killick."
"Just so!" agreed Mr. Killick, moving towards his library door. "ButI'm going with you--as soon as I've got myself into an overcoat. Now!"he added, a few minutes later, when all three went out to the cab."Tell the man to drive us straight to that police-station you've beenvisiting of late--and till we get there, just let me think quietly--Ican probably say more about this case than I'm yet aware of. But--if itwill give you any relief, I can tell you this at once--I have a gooddeal to tell. Strange!--strange indeed how things come round, and whata small world this is, after all!"
With this cryptic utterance Mr. Killick sank into a corner of the cab,where he remained, evidently lost in thought, until, nearly an hourlater, they pulled up at the door of the police-station. Within fiveminutes they were closeted with the chief men there--amongst whom wereAyscough and the detective from New Scotland Yard.
"You know me--or of me--some of you?" observed the old solicitor, as helaid a card on the desk by which he had been given a chair. "I was verywell known in the City police-courts, you know, until I retired threeyears ago. Now, these young gentlemen have just told me all the factsof this very strange case, and I think I can throw some light on it--onpart of it, anyway. First of all, let me see those two rings aboutwhich there has been so much enquiry."
Ayscough produced the rings from a locked drawer; the rest of thosepresent looked on curiously as they were examined and handled by Mr.Killick. It was immediately evident that he had no doubt about hisrecognition and identification of them--after a moment's inspection ofeach he pushed them back towards the detective.
"Certainly!" he said with a confidence that carried conviction. "Thoseare the rings which I gave to Mrs. Lauriston, this young man's mother.I knew them at once. If it's necessary, I can show you the receiptwhich I got with them from the seller. The particulars are specified inthat receipt--and I know that I still have it. Does my testimonysatisfy you?"
The chief official present glanced at the man from New Scotland Yard,and receiving a nod from him, smiled at the old solicitor.
"I think we can rely on your evidence, Mr. Killick," he said. "We hadto make certain, you know. But these marks--isn't that a curiouscoincidence, now, when you come to think of it?"
"Not a bit of it!" replied Mr. Killick. "And I'll tell you why--that'sprecisely what I've come all the way from my own comfortable firesideat Stanmore to do! There's no coincidence at all. I've heard the wholestory of this Praed Street affair now from these two lads. And I've nomore doubt than I have that I see you, that the old pawnbroker whom youknew hereabouts as Daniel Multenius was the same man DanielMolteno--from whom I bought those rings, years ago! Not the slightestdoubt!"
None of those present made any remark on this surprising announcement,and Mr. Killick went on.
"I was, as some of you may know, in practice in the City--in MoorgateStreet, as a matter of fact," he said. "Daniel Molteno was a jewellerin Houndsditch. I occasionally acted for him--professionally. Andoccasionally when I wanted anything in the way of jewellery, I went tohis shop. He was then a man of about fifty, a tall, characteristicallyHebraic sort of man, already patriarchal in appearance, though hehadn't a grey hair in his big black beard. He was an interesting man,profoundly learned in the history of precious stones. I remember buyingthose rings from him very well indeed--I remember, too, what I gave himfor them--seventy-five pounds for the two. Those private marks insidethem are, of course, his--and so they're just the same as his privatemarks inside those other rings in the tray. But that's not what I camehere to tell you--that's merely preliminary."
"Deeply interesting, anyway, sir," observed Ayscough. "And, maybe, veryvaluable."
"Not half so valuable as what I'm going to tell you," replied Mr.Killick, with a dry chuckle, "Now, as I understand it, from young Mr.Purdie's account, you're all greatly excited at present over theundoubted connection with this Praed Street mystery of one Mr. SpencerLevendale, who is, I believe, a very rich man, a resident in one of thebest parts of this district, and a Member of Parliament. It wouldappear from all you've discovered, amongst you, up to now, that SpencerLevendale has been privately mixed up with old Daniel Multenius in somebusiness which seems to be connected with South Africa. Now, attend towhat I say:--About the time that I knew Daniel Molteno in Houndsditch,Daniel Molteno had a partner--a junior partner, whose name, however,didn't appear over the shop. He was a much younger man than Daniel--infact, he was quite a young man--I should say he was then abouttwenty-three or four--not more. He was of medium height, dark,typically Jewish, large dark eyes, olive skin, good-looking, smart,full of go. And his name--the name I knew him by--was Sam Levin." Theother men in the room glanced at each other--and one of them softlymurmured what all was thinking.
"The same initials!"
"Just so!" agreed Mr. Killick. "That's what struck me--Sam Levin:Spencer Levendale. Very well!--I continue. One day I went to DanielMolteno's shop to get something repaired, and it struck me that Ihadn't seen Sam Levin the last two or three times I had been in.'Where's your partner?' I asked of Daniel Molteno. 'I haven't seen himlately.' 'Partner no longer, Mr. Killick,' said he. 'We've dissolved.He's gone to South Africa.' 'What to do there?' I asked. 'Oh,' answeredDaniel Molteno, 'he's touched with this fever to get at close quarterswith the diamond fields! He's gone out there to make a fortune, andcome back a millionaire.' 'Well!' I said. 'He's a likely candidate.''Oh, yes!' said Daniel. 'He'll do well.' No more was said--and, as faras I can remember, I never saw Daniel Molteno again. It was some timebefore I had occasion to go that way--when I did, I was surprised tosee a new name over the shop. I went in and asked where its formerproprietor was. The new shopkeeper told me that Mr. Molteno had soldhis business to him. And he didn't know where Mr. Molteno had gone, orwhether he'd retired from business altogether; he knew nothing--andevidently didn't care, either, so--that part of my memories comes to anend!"
"Mr. Spencer Levendale is a man of just under fifty," remarkedAyscough, after a thoughtful pause, "and I should say that twenty-fiveyears ago, he'd be just such a man as Mr. Killick has described."
"You can take it from me--considering all that I've been told thisafternoon--" said the old solicitor, "that Spencer Levendale is SamLevin--come back from South Africa, a millionaire. I'm convinced of it!And now then, gentlemen, what does all this mean? There's no doubt thatold Multenius and Levendale were secretly mixed up. What in? What's theextraordinary mystery about that book--left in Multenius's back parlourand advertised
for immediately by Levendale as if it were simplyinvaluable? Why has Levendale utterly disappeared? And who is this manPurvis--and what's he to do with it? You've got the hardest nuts tocrack--a whole basketful of 'em!--that ever I heard of. And I've hadsome little experience of crime!"
"I've had some information on Levendale and Purvis this veryafternoon," said Ayscough. He turned to the other officials. "I hadn'ta chance of telling you of it before," he continued. "I was atLevendale's house at three o'clock, making some further enquiries. Igot two pieces of news. To start with--that bottle out of whichLevendale filled a small phial, which he put in his waistcoat pocketwhen he went out for the last time--you remember, Mr. Purdie, that hisbutler told you of that incident--well, that bottle containschloroform--I took a chemist there to examine it and some other things.That's item one. The other's a bit of information volunteered byLevendale's chauffeur. The morning after Mr. Multenius's death, andafter you, Mr. Lauriston, Mr. Rubinstein, and myself called onLevendale, Levendale went off to the City in his car. He ordered thechauffeur to go through Hyde Park, by the Victoria Gate, and to stop bythe Powder Magazine. At the Powder Magazine he got out of the car andwalked down towards the bridge on the Serpentine. The chauffeur had himin view all the way, and saw him join a tall man, clean-shaven, muchbrowned, who was evidently waiting for him. They remained inconversation, at the entrance to the bridge, some five minutes orso--then the stranger went across the bridge in the direction ofKensington, and Levendale returned to his car. Now, in my opinion, thatstrange man was this Purvis we've heard of. And that seems to have beenthe last time any one we've come across saw him. That night, after hisvisit to his house, and his taking the phial of chloroform away withhim, Levendale utterly disappeared, too--and yet sent a wire to hisbutler, from close by, next morning, saying he would be away for a fewdays! Why didn't he call with that message himself!"
Mr. Killick, who had listened to Ayscough with close attention,laughed, and turned to the officials with a sharp look.
"Shall I give you people a bit of my opinion after hearing all this?"he said. "Very well, then--Levendale never did send that wire! It wassent in Levendale's name--to keep things quiet. I believe thatLevendale's been trapped--and Purvis with him!"