The Amateur Cracksman

by E. W. Hornung

  WILFUL MURDER

  Of the various robberies in which we were both concerned, it is but thefew, I find, that will bear telling at any length. Not that the otherscontained details which even I would hesitate to recount; it is,rather, the very absence of untoward incident which renders themuseless for my present purpose. In point of fact our plans were socraftily laid (by Raffles) that the chances of a hitch were invariablyreduced to a minimum before we went to work. We might be disappointedin the market value of our haul; but it was quite the exception for usto find ourselves confronted by unforeseen impediments, or involved ina really dramatic dilemma. There was a sameness even in our spoil;for, of course, only the most precious stones are worth the trouble wetook and the risks we ran. In short, our most successful escapadeswould prove the greatest weariness of all in narrative form; and nonemore so than the dull affair of the Ardagh emeralds, some eight or nineweeks after the Milchester cricket week. The former, however, had asequel that I would rather forget than all our burglaries put together.

  It was the evening after our return from Ireland, and I was waiting atmy rooms for Raffles, who had gone off as usual to dispose of theplunder. Raffles had his own method of conducting this very vitalbranch of our business, which I was well content to leave entirely inhis hands. He drove the bargains, I believe, in a thin but subtledisguise of the flashy-seedy order, and always in the Cockney dialect,of which he had made himself a master. Moreover, he invariablyemployed the same "fence," who was ostensibly a money-lender in a small(but yet notorious) way, and in reality a rascal as remarkable asRaffles himself. Only lately I also had been to the man, but in myproper person. We had needed capital for the getting of these veryemeralds, and I had raised a hundred pounds, on the terms you wouldexpect, from a soft-spoken graybeard with an ingratiating smile, anincessant bow, and the shiftiest old eyes that ever flew from rim torim of a pair of spectacles. So the original sinews and the finalspoils of war came in this case from the self-same source--acircumstance which appealed to us both.

  But these same final spoils I was still to see, and I waited and waitedwith an impatience that grew upon me with the growing dusk. At my openwindow I had played Sister Ann until the faces in the street below wereno longer distinguishable. And now I was tearing to and fro in the gripof horrible hypotheses--a grip that tightened when at last thelift-gates opened with a clatter outside--that held me breathless untila well-known tattoo followed on my door.

  "In the dark!" said Raffles, as I dragged him in. "Why, Bunny, what'swrong?"

  "Nothing--now you've come," said I, shutting the door behind him in afever of relief and anxiety. "Well? Well? What did they fetch?"

  "Five hundred."

  "Down?"

  "Got it in my pocket."

  "Good man!" I cried. "You don't know what a stew I've been in. I'llswitch on the light. I've been thinking of you and nothing else forthe last hour. I--I was ass enough to think something had gone wrong!"

  Raffles was smiling when the white light filled the room, but for themoment I did not perceive the peculiarity of his smile. I wasfatuously full of my own late tremors and present relief; and my firstidiotic act was to spill some whiskey and squirt the soda-water allover in my anxiety to do instant justice to the occasion.

  "So you thought something had happened?" said Raffles, leaning back inmy chair as he lit a cigarette, and looking much amused. "What wouldyou say if something had? Sit tight, my dear chap! It was nothing ofthe slightest consequence, and it's all over now. A stern chase and along one, Bunny, but I think I'm well to windward this time."

  And suddenly I saw that his collar was limp, his hair matted, his bootsthick with dust.

  "The police?" I whispered aghast.

  "Oh, dear, no; only old Baird."

  "Baird! But wasn't it Baird who took the emeralds?"

  "It was."

  "Then how came he to chase you?"

  "My dear fellow, I'll tell you if you give me a chance; it's reallynothing to get in the least excited about. Old Baird has at lastspotted that I'm not quite the common cracksman I would have him thinkme. So he's been doing his best to run me to my burrow."

  "And you call that nothing!"

  "It would be something if he had succeeded; but he has still to dothat. I admit, however, that he made me sit up for the time being. Itall comes of going on the job so far from home. There was the oldbrute with the whole thing in his morning paper. He KNEW it must havebeen done by some fellow who could pass himself off for a gentleman,and I saw his eyebrows go up the moment I told him I was the man, withthe same old twang that you could cut with a paper-knife. I did mybest to get out of it--swore I had a pal who was a real swell--but Isaw very plainly that I had given myself away. He gave up haggling.He paid my price as though he enjoyed doing it. But I FELT himfollowing me when I made tracks; though, of course, I didn't turn roundto see."

  "Why not?"

  "My dear Bunny, it's the very worst thing you can do. As long as youlook unsuspecting they'll keep their distance, and so long as they keeptheir distance you stand a chance. Once show that you know you'rebeing followed, and it's flight or fight for all you're worth. I nevereven looked round; and mind you never do in the same hole. I justhurried up to Blackfriars and booked for High Street, Kensington, atthe top of my voice; and as the train was leaving Sloane Square out Ihopped, and up all those stairs like a lamplighter, and round to thestudio by the back streets. Well, to be on the safe side, I lay lowthere all the afternoon, hearing nothing in the least suspicious, andonly wishing I had a window to look through instead of that beastlyskylight. However, the coast seemed clear enough, and thus far it wasmy mere idea that he would follow me; there was nothing to show he had.So at last I marched out in my proper rig--almost straight into oldBaird's arms!"

  "What on earth did you do?"

  "Walked past him as though I had never set eyes on him in my life, anddidn't then; took a hansom in the King's Road, and drove like the deuceto Clapham Junction; rushed on to the nearest platform, without aticket, jumped into the first train I saw, got out at Twickenham,walked full tilt back to Richmond, took the District to Charing Cross,and here I am! Ready for a tub and a change, and the best dinner theclub can give us. I came to you first, because I thought you might begetting anxious. Come round with me, and I won't keep you long."

  "You're certain you've given him the slip?" I said, as we put on ourhats.

  "Certain enough; but we can make assurance doubly sure," said Raffles,and went to my window, where he stood for a moment or two looking downinto the street.

  "All right?" I asked him.

  "All right," said he; and we went downstairs forthwith, and so to theAlbany arm-in-arm.

  But we were both rather silent on our way. I, for my part, waswondering what Raffles would do about the studio in Chelsea, whither,at all events, he had been successfully dogged. To me the point seemedone of immediate importance, but when I mentioned it he said there wastime enough to think about that. His one other remark was made afterwe had nodded (in Bond Street) to a young blood of our acquaintance whohappened to be getting himself a bad name.

  "Poor Jack Rutter!" said Raffles, with a sigh. "Nothing's sadder thanto see a fellow going to the bad like that. He's about mad with drinkand debt, poor devil! Did you see his eye? Odd that we should havemet him to-night, by the way; it's old Baird who's said to have skinnedhim. By God, but I'd like to skin old Baird!"

  And his tone took a sudden low fury, made the more noticeable byanother long silence, which lasted, indeed, throughout an admirabledinner at the club, and for some time after we had settled down in aquiet corner of the smoking-room with our coffee and cigars. Then atlast I saw Raffles looking at me with his lazy smile, and I knew thatthe morose fit was at an end.

  "I daresay you wonder what I've been thinking about all this time?"said he. "I've been thinking what rot it is to go doing things byhalves!"

  "Well," said I, returning his smile, "that's no
t a charge that you canbring against yourself, is it?"

  "I'm not so sure," said Raffles, blowing a meditative puff; "as amatter of fact, I was thinking less of myself than of that poor devilof a Jack Rutter. There's a fellow who does things by halves; he'sonly half gone to the bad; and look at the difference between him andus! He's under the thumb of a villainous money-lender; we are solventcitizens. He's taken to drink; we're as sober as we are solvent. Hispals are beginning to cut him; our difficulty is to keep the pal fromthe door. Enfin, he begs or borrows, which is stealing by halves; andwe steal outright and are done with it. Obviously ours is the morehonest course. Yet I'm not sure, Bunny, but we're doing the thing byhalves ourselves!"

  "Why? What more could we do?" I exclaimed in soft derision, lookinground, however, to make sure that we were not overheard.

  "What more," said Raffles. "Well, murder--for one thing."

  "Rot!"

  "A matter of opinion, my dear Bunny; I don't mean it for rot. I'vetold you before that the biggest man alive is the man who's committed amurder, and not yet been found out; at least he ought to be, but he sovery seldom has the soul to appreciate himself. Just think of it!Think of coming in here and talking to the men, very likely about themurder itself; and knowing you've done it; and wondering how they'dlook if THEY knew! Oh, it would be great, simply great! But, besidesall that, when you were caught there'd be a merciful and dramatic endof you. You'd fill the bill for a few weeks, and then snuff out with aflourish of extra-specials; you wouldn't rust with a vile repose forseven or fourteen years."

  "Good old Raffles!" I chuckled. "I begin to forgive you for being inbad form at dinner."

  "But I was never more earnest in my life."

  "Go on!"

  "I mean it."

  "You know very well that you wouldn't commit a murder, whatever elseyou might do."

  "I know very well I'm going to commit one to-night!"

  He had been leaning back in the saddle-bag chair, watching me with keeneyes sheathed by languid lids; now he started forward, and his eyesleapt to mine like cold steel from the scabbard. They struck home tomy slow wits; their meaning was no longer in doubt. I, who knew theman, read murder in his clenched hands, and murder in his locked lips,but a hundred murders in those hard blue eyes.

  "Baird?" I faltered, moistening my lips with my tongue.

  "Of course."

  "But you said it didn't matter about the room in Chelsea?"

  "I told a lie."

  "Anyway you gave him the slip afterwards!"

  "That was another. I didn't. I thought I had when I came up to youthis evening; but when I looked out of your window--you remember? tomake assurance doubly sure--there he was on the opposite pavement downbelow."

  "And you never said a word about it!"

  "I wasn't going to spoil your dinner, Bunny, and I wasn't going to letyou spoil mine. But there he was as large as life, and, of course, hefollowed us to the Albany. A fine game for him to play, a game afterhis mean old heart: blackmail from me, bribes from the police, the onebidding against the other; but he sha'n't play it with me, he sha'n'tlive to, and the world will have an extortioner the less. Waiter! TwoScotch whiskeys and sodas. I'm off at eleven, Bunny; it's the onlything to be done."

  "You know where he lives, then?"

  "Yes, out Willesden way, and alone; the fellow's a miser among otherthings. I long ago found out all about him."

  Again I looked round the room; it was a young man's club, and young menwere laughing, chatting, smoking, drinking, on every hand. One noddedto me through the smoke. Like a machine I nodded to him, and turnedback to Raffles with a groan.

  "Surely you will give him a chance!" I urged. "The very sight of yourpistol should bring him to terms."

  "It wouldn't make him keep them."

  "But you might try the effect?"

  "I probably shall. Here's a drink for you, Bunny. Wish me luck."

  "I'm coming too."

  "I don't want you."

  "But I must come!"

  An ugly gleam shot from the steel blue eyes.

  "To interfere?" said Raffles.

  "Not I."

  "You give me your word?"

  "I do."

  "Bunny, if you break it--"

  "You may shoot me, too!"

  "I most certainly should," said Raffles, solemnly. "So you come at yourown peril, my dear man; but, if you are coming--well, the sooner thebetter, for I must stop at my rooms on the way."

  Five minutes later I was waiting for him at the Piccadilly entrance tothe Albany. I had a reason for remaining outside. It was thefeeling--half hope, half fear--that Angus Baird might still be on ourtrail--that some more immediate and less cold-blooded way of dealingwith him might result from a sudden encounter between the money-lenderand myself. I would not warn him of his danger; but I would averttragedy at all costs. And when no such encounter had taken place, andRaffles and I were fairly on our way to Willesden, that, I think, wasstill my honest resolve. I would not break my word if I could help it,but it was a comfort to feel that I could break it if I liked, on anunderstood penalty. Alas! I fear my good intentions were tainted witha devouring curiosity, and overlaid by the fascination which goes handin hand with horror.

  I have a poignant recollection of the hour it took us to reach thehouse. We walked across St. James's Park (I can see the lights now,bright on the bridge and blurred in the water), and we had some minutesto wait for the last train to Willesden. It left at 11.21, I remember,and Raffles was put out to find it did not go on to Kensal Rise. We hadto get out at Willesden Junction and walk on through the streets intofairly open country that happened to be quite new to me. I could neverfind the house again. I remember, however, that we were on a darkfootpath between woods and fields when the clocks began striking twelve.

  "Surely," said I, "we shall find him in bed and asleep?"

  "I hope we do," said Raffles grimly.

  "Then you mean to break in?"

  "What else did you think?"

  I had not thought about it at all; the ultimate crime had monopolizedmy mind. Beside it burglary was a bagatelle, but one to deprecate nonethe less. I saw obvious objections: the man was au fait with cracksmenand their ways: he would certainly have firearms, and might be thefirst to use them.

  "I could wish nothing better," said Raffles. "Then it will be man toman, and devil take the worst shot. You don't suppose I prefer foulplay to fair, do you? But die he must, by one or the other, or it's along stretch for you and me."

  "Better that than this!"

  "Then stay where you are, my good fellow. I told you I didn't wantyou; and this is the house. So good-night."

  I could see no house at all, only the angle of a high wall risingsolitary in the night, with the starlight glittering on battlements ofbroken glass; and in the wall a tall green gate, bristling with spikes,and showing a front for battering-rams in the feeble rays an outlyinglamp-post cast across the new-made road. It seemed to me a road ofbuilding-sites, with but this one house built, all by itself, at oneend; but the night was too dark for more than a mere impression.

  Raffles, however, had seen the place by daylight, and had come preparedfor the special obstacles; already he was reaching up and puttingchampagne corks on the spikes, and in another moment he had his foldedcovert-coat across the corks. I stepped back as he raised himself, andsaw a little pyramid of slates snip the sky above the gate; as hesquirmed over I ran forward, and had my own weight on the spikes andcorks and covert-coat when he gave the latter a tug.

  "Coming after all?"

  "Rather!"

  "Take care, then; the place is all bell-wires and springs. It's nosoft thing, this! There--stand still while I take off the corks."

  The garden was very small and new, with a grass-plot still in separatesods, but a quantity of full-grown laurels stuck into the raw claybeds. "Bells in themselves," as Raffles whispered; "there's nothingelse rustles so--cunning old beast!" And we gave th
em a wide berth aswe crept across the grass.

  "He's gone to bed!"

  "I don't think so, Bunny. I believe he's seen us."

  "Why?"

  "I saw a light."

  "Where?"

  "Downstairs, for an instant, when I--"

  His whisper died away; he had seen the light again; and so had I.

  It lay like a golden rod under the front-door--and vanished. Itreappeared like a gold thread under the lintel--and vanished for good.We heard the stairs creak, creak, and cease, also for good. We neithersaw nor heard any more, though we stood waiting on the grass till ourfeet were soaked with the dew.

  "I'm going in," said Raffles at last. "I don't believe he saw us atall. I wish he had. This way."

  We trod gingerly on the path, but the gravel stuck to our wet soles,and grated horribly in a little tiled veranda with a glass door leadingwithin. It was through this glass that Raffles had first seen thelight; and he now proceeded to take out a pane, with the diamond, thepot of treacle, and the sheet of brown paper which were seldom omittedfrom his impedimenta. Nor did he dispense with my own assistance,though he may have accepted it as instinctively as it was proffered.In any case it was these fingers that helped to spread the treacle onthe brown paper, and pressed the latter to the glass until the diamondhad completed its circuit and the pane fell gently back into our hands.

  Raffles now inserted his hand, turned the key in the lock, and, bymaking a long arm, succeeded in drawing the bolt at the bottom of thedoor; it proved to be the only one, and the door opened, though notvery wide.

  "What's that?" said Raffles, as something crunched beneath his feet onthe very threshold.

  "A pair of spectacles," I whispered, picking them up. I was stillfingering the broken lenses and the bent rims when Raffles tripped andalmost fell, with a gasping cry that he made no effort to restrain.

  "Hush, man, hush!" I entreated under my breath. "He'll hear you!"

  For answer his teeth chattered--even his--and I heard him fumbling withhis matches. "No, Bunny; he won't hear us," whispered Raffles,presently; and he rose from his knees and lit a gas as the match burntdown.

  Angus Baird was lying on his own floor, dead, with his gray hairs gluedtogether by his blood; near him a poker with the black end glistening;in a corner his desk, ransacked, littered. A clock ticked noisily onthe chimney-piece; for perhaps a hundred seconds there was no othersound.

  Raffles stood very still, staring down at the dead, as a man mightstare into an abyss after striding blindly to its brink. His breathcame audibly through wide nostrils; he made no other sign, and his lipsseemed sealed.

  "That light!" said I, hoarsely; "the light we saw under the door!"

  With a start he turned to me.

  "It's true! I had forgotten it. It was in here I saw it first!"

  "He must be upstairs still!"

  "If he is we'll soon rout him out. Come on!"

  Instead I laid a hand upon his arm, imploring him to reflect--that hisenemy was dead now--that we should certainly be involved--that now ornever was our own time to escape. He shook me off in a sudden fury ofimpatience, a reckless contempt in his eyes, and, bidding me save myown skin if I liked, he once more turned his back upon me, and thistime left me half resolved to take him at his word. Had he forgottenon what errand he himself was here? Was he determined that this nightshould end in black disaster? As I asked myself these questions hismatch flared in the hall; in another moment the stairs were creakingunder his feet, even as they had creaked under those of the murderer;and the humane instinct that inspired him in defiance of his risk wasborne in also upon my slower sensibilities. Could we let the murderergo? My answer was to bound up the creaking stairs and to overhaulRaffles on the landing.

  But three doors presented themselves; the first opened into a bedroomwith the bed turned down but undisturbed; the second room was empty inevery sense; the third door was locked.

  Raffles lit the landing gas.

  "He's in there," said he, cocking his revolver. "Do you remember how weused to break into the studies at school? Here goes!"

  His flat foot crashed over the keyhole, the lock gave, the door flewopen, and in the sudden draught the landing gas heeled over like acobble in a squall; as the flame righted itself I saw a fixed bath, twobath-towels knotted together--an open window--a cowering figure--andRaffles struck aghast on the threshold.

  "JACK--RUTTER?"

  The words came thick and slow with horror, and in horror I heard myselfrepeating them, while the cowering figure by the bathroom window rosegradually erect.

  "It's you!" he whispered, in amazement no less than our own; "it's youtwo! What's it mean, Raffles? I saw you get over the gate; a bellrang, the place is full of them. Then you broke in. What's it allmean?"

  "We may tell you that, when you tell us what in God's name you've done,Rutter!"

  "Done? What have I done?" The unhappy wretch came out into the lightwith bloodshot, blinking eyes, and a bloody shirt-front. "Youknow--you've seen--but I'll tell you if you like. I've killed arobber; that's all. I've killed a robber, a usurer, a jackal, ablackmailer, the cleverest and the cruellest villain unhung. I'm readyto hang for him. I'd kill him again!"

  And he looked us fiercely in the face, a fine defiance in hisdissipated eyes; his breast heaving, his jaw like a rock.

  "Shall I tell you how it happened?" he went passionately on. "He'smade my life a hell these weeks and months past. You may know that. Aperfect hell! Well, to-night I met him in Bond Street. Do youremember when I met you fellows? He wasn't twenty yards behind you; hewas on your tracks, Raffles; he saw me nod to you, and stopped me andasked me who you were. He seemed as keen as knives to know, I couldn'tthink why, and didn't care either, for I saw my chance. I said I'dtell him all about you if he'd give me a private interview. He said hewouldn't. I said he should, and held him by the coat; by the time Ilet him go you were out of sight, and I waited where I was till he cameback in despair. I had the whip-hand of him then. I could dictatewhere the interview should be, and I made him take me home with him,still swearing to tell him all about you when we'd had our talk. Well,when we got here I made him give me something to eat, putting him offand off; and about ten o'clock I heard the gate shut. I waited a bit,and then asked him if he lived alone.

  "'Not at all,' says he; 'did you not see the servant?'

  "I said I'd seen her, but I thought I'd heard her go; if I was mistakenno doubt she would come when she was called; and I yelled three timesat the top of my voice. Of course there was no servant to come. Iknew that, because I came to see him one night last week, and heinterviewed me himself through the gate, but wouldn't open it. Well,when I had done yelling, and not a soul had come near us, he was aswhite as that ceiling. Then I told him we could have our chat at last;and I picked the poker out of the fender, and told him how he'd robbedme, but, by God, he shouldn't rob me any more. I gave him threeminutes to write and sign a settlement of all his iniquitous claimsagainst me, or have his brains beaten out over his own carpet. Hethought a minute, and then went to his desk for pen and paper. In twoseconds he was round like lightning with a revolver, and I went for himbald-headed. He fired two or three times and missed; you can find theholes if you like; but I hit him every time--my God! I was like asavage till the thing was done. And then I didn't care. I went throughhis desk looking for my own bills, and was coming away when you turnedup. I said I didn't care, nor do I; but I was going to give myself upto-night, and shall still; so you see I sha'n't give you fellows muchtrouble!"

  He was done; and there we stood on the landing of the lonely house, thelow, thick, eager voice still racing and ringing through our ears; thedead man below, and in front of us his impenitent slayer. I knew towhom the impenitence would appeal when he had heard the story, and Iwas not mistaken.

  "That's all rot," said Raffles, speaking after a pause; "we sha'n't letyou give yourself up."

  "You sha'n't stop me! What would be the g
ood? The woman saw me; itwould only be a question of time; and I can't face waiting to be taken.Think of it: waiting for them to touch you on the shoulder! No, no,no; I'll give myself up and get it over."

  His speech was changed; he faltered, floundered. It was as though aclearer perception of his position had come with the bare idea ofescape from it.

  "But listen to me," urged Raffles; "We're here at our peril ourselves.We broke in like thieves to enforce redress for a grievance very likeyour own. But don't you see? We took out a pane--did the thing likeregular burglars. Regular burglars will get the credit of all therest!"

  "You mean that I sha'n't be suspected?"

  "I do."

  "But I don't want to get off scotfree," cried Rutter hysterically."I've killed him. I know that. But it was in self-defence; it wasn'tmurder. I must own up and take the consequences. I shall go mad if Idon't!"

  His hands twitched; his lips quivered; the tears were in his eyes.Raffles took him roughly by the shoulder.

  "Look here, you fool! If the three of us were caught here now, do youknow what those consequences would be? We should swing in a row atNewgate in six weeks' time! You talk as though we were sitting in aclub; don't you know it's one o'clock in the morning, and the lightson, and a dead man down below? For God's sake pull yourself together,and do what I tell you, or you're a dead man yourself."

  "I wish I was one!" Rutter sobbed. "I wish I had his revolver to blowmy own brains out. It's lying under him. O my God, my God!"

  His knees knocked together: the frenzy of reaction was at its height.We had to take him downstairs between us, and so through the front doorout into the open air.

  All was still outside--all but the smothered weeping of the unstrungwretch upon our hands. Raffles returned for a moment to the house;then all was dark as well. The gate opened from within; we closed itcarefully behind us; and so left the starlight shining on broken glassand polished spikes, one and all as we had found them.

  We escaped; no need to dwell on our escape. Our murderer seemed setupon the scaffold--drunk with his deed, he was more trouble than sixmen drunk with wine. Again and again we threatened to leave him to hisfate, to wash our hands of him. But incredible and unmerited luck waswith the three of us. Not a soul did we meet between that andWillesden; and of those who saw us later, did one think of the twoyoung men with crooked white ties, supporting a third in a seeminglyunmistakable condition, when the evening papers apprised the town of aterrible tragedy at Kensal Rise?

  We walked to Maida Vale, and thence drove openly to my rooms. But Ialone went upstairs; the other two proceeded to the Albany, and I sawno more of Raffles for forty-eight hours. He was not at his rooms whenI called in the morning; he had left no word. When he reappeared thepapers were full of the murder; and the man who had committed it was onthe wide Atlantic, a steerage passenger from Liverpool to New York.

  "There was no arguing with him," so Raffles told me; "either he mustmake a clean breast of it or flee the country. So I rigged him up atthe studio, and we took the first train to Liverpool. Nothing wouldinduce him to sit tight and enjoy the situation as I should haveendeavored to do in his place; and it's just as well! I went to hisdiggings to destroy some papers, and what do you think I found. Thepolice in possession; there's a warrant out against him already! Theidiots think that window wasn't genuine, and the warrant's out. Itwon't be my fault if it's ever served!"

  Nor, after all these years, can I think it will be mine.