Christopher Quarles: College Professor and Master Detective

by Percy James Brebner

  CHAPTER III

  THE MYSTERY OF THE CIRCULAR COUNTERS

  However obscure a mystery may be, there is always some point orcircumstance which, if rightly interpreted, will lead to its solution.Even in those crimes which have never been elucidated this pointexists, only it has never been duly appreciated. It is this key-clew,as I may call it, for which the detective first looks, and, since fewcrimes, if any, are committed without some definite reason, it is mostfrequently found in the motive.

  His almost superhuman power of recognizing this key-clew was thefoundation of Christopher Quarles's success, and his solution of themysterious burglaries which caused such speculation for a time was notthe least of his achievements.

  Sir Joseph Maynard, the eminent physician of Harley Street, had givena small dinner party one evening. The guests left early, and soonafter midnight the household had retired.

  Neither Sir Joseph nor Lady Maynard nor any of the servants weredisturbed during the night, but next morning it was found thatburglars had entered. They had got in by a passage window at theback--not a very difficult matter--and had evidently gone to thedining room and helped themselves to spirits from a tantalus which wason the sideboard. Three glasses, with a little of the liquor left inthem, were on the table, and near them were some biscuit crumbs.There were several silver articles on the sideboard, but these had notbeen touched.

  The burglars appeared to have given all their attention to SirJoseph's room, which was in a state of confusion. Two cupboards andevery drawer had been turned out and the contents thrown about in alldirections. A safe which stood in a corner had been broken open. Itwas a large safe, but of an old-fashioned type, presenting littledifficulty to experts. In it, besides papers and about seventy poundsin gold in a canvas bag, Sir Joseph had a considerable amount ofsilver, presentations which had been made to him, and some uniquespecimens of the Queen Anne period. All this silver was upon thefloor, also the bag of money intact.

  So far as Sir Joseph could tell, not a thing had been taken. Half adozen cigarette-ends had been thrown down upon the carpet, and a smallbox containing some round counters lay broken by the writing-table. Itlooked as if the box had been knocked down and trodden on by mistake,for the counters were in a little heap close to the broken fragments.It appeared that the burglars must have been disturbed and had madeoff without securing their booty.

  This was the obvious explanation, but it did not satisfy me. Iquestioned Sir Joseph about his papers. Had he any document which, forprivate or public reasons, someone might be anxious to obtain? He saidhe had not, was inclined to laugh at my question, and proceeded toinform me that he had no family skeleton, had no part in anyGovernment secret, had never been in touch with any mysterioussociety, and had no papers giving any valuable details of scientificexperiments upon which he was engaged.

  Of course the thieves might have been disturbed, but there werecertain points against this idea. No one had moved about the houseduring the night, so apparently there had been nothing to disturbthem. The silver on the floor was scattered, not gathered togetherready to take away as I should have expected to find it, and it lookedas if it had been thrown aside carelessly, as though it were not whatthe thieves were in search of; and surely, had they left in a hurry,the bag of money would have been taken. Moreover, the cigarette-endsand the dirty glasses suggested a certain leisurely method of going towork, and men of this kind would not be easily frightened.

  The cigarette-ends puzzled me. They were of a cheap American brand,had not been taken from Sir Joseph's box, which contained only Turkishones, and, although they had apparently been thrown down carelessly,there was no ash upon the carpet nor anywhere else. They looked likeold ends rather than the remains of cigarettes smoked last night. Ifmy idea were correct, it would mean that they had been put there onpurpose to mislead.

  I examined the three glasses on the dining-room table; there was thestain of lips at the rim of one, but not of the other two. Only onehad been drunk out of, and probably a little of the liquid had beenemptied out of this into the other two. On inquiry, one of theservants told me that only a very little of the spirit had been taken.She also said there was only one biscuit left in the box last night,and it was there now; therefore a few crumbs from the box must havebeen purposely scattered on the tablecloth.

  This was the story I told to Professor Quarles and his granddaughter.I went to him at once, feeling that the case was just one of those inwhich his theoretical method was likely to be useful. By doing so Icertainly saved one valuable life, possibly more than one.

  That he was interested was shown by our adjournment to the empty room,and he did not ask a question until I had finished my story.

  "What is the opinion you have formed about it, Wigan?" he said.

  "I think there was only one burglar, but for some reason he thought itimportant that it should be believed there were more."

  "A very important point, and a reasonable conclusion, I fancy," saidQuarles. "If you are right, it narrows the sphere of inquiry--narrowsit very much, taken with the other facts of the case."

  "Exactly," I answered. "There is a suggestion to my mind ofamateurishness in the affair. I grant the safe was not a difficult oneto break open, but it had not been done in a very expert manner. Thecigarette-ends, the dirty glasses, and the biscuit crumbs seem to merather gratuitous deceptions, and----"

  "Wait," said Quarles. "You assume a little too much. They would havedeceived nine men out of ten--you happen to be the tenth man. Amateuror not, we have to deal with a very smart man, so don't underestimatethe enemy, Wigan. Assuming this to be the work of an amateur, to whatdefinite point does it lead you?"

  "To this question," I replied. "Did Sir Joseph Maynard burgle his ownhouse?"

  "Why should you think so?"

  "His manner was curious. Then there is only his own statement thatnothing has been taken. But supposing he wished to get rid of papers,or of something else which was in his possession and for which he wasresponsible to others, a burglary would be an easy way out of thedifficulty."

  "Would he not have robbed himself of something to make the affair moreplausible?" said Quarles.

  "The amateur constantly overlooks the obvious," I answered.

  The professor shook his head.

  "Besides, Wigan, if he wanted to suggest that some important documenthad been stolen, that is just the one thing he would mention."

  "I think that would entirely depend on the man's temperament,professor."

  "That may be true, but we have also got to consider the man'scharacter. Sir Joseph's standing is very high."

  "Sudden temptation or necessity may subvert the highest character," Ianswered. "You know that as well as I do. When I questioned SirJoseph about his papers his manner seemed curious, as I have said. Heat once declared that he had no part in any Government secret ormysterious society, gratuitous information, you understand, not inanswer to any direct question of mine, showing that the ideas were inhis mind. Why? The explanation would be simple if he were the burglarof his own papers."

  "I admit the argument is sound, Wigan, but it does not creep into mybrain with any compelling influence. There is a link missing in thechain somewhere," and he looked at Zena.

  His often-repeated statement that she helped him by her questions hadnever impressed me very greatly. When a mystery was cleared up, it waseasy to say that Zena had put him on the right road, and I consideredit a whim of his more than anything else. Still I am bound to say thather seemingly irrelevant questions often had a curious bearing on theproblem. It was so now.

  "You do not seem interested in the broken box of counters?" she said,turning toward her grandfather.

  "I wonder, Wigan--is that the clew?" Quarles said quickly. "It creepsinto my brain."

  "The counters were in a heap," I said.

  "As if they had fallen out of the box when it was broken?" askedQuarles.

  "No, that would have scattered them more. They were round, and mighthave fallen over after hav
ing been put one upon another as one gatherscoppers together when counting a number of them. Sir Joseph pickedthem up and put them on the writing-table while he was talking to me."

  "Did that strike you as significant?" asked Quarles.

  "I cannot say it did. The floor was covered with things, and I fancythey happened to be in his way, that was all."

  "They are significant, Wigan, but I cannot see yet in which directionthey lead us. We must wait; for the moment there is nothing to bedone."

  I had become so accustomed to Quarles jumping to some suddenconclusion that I was disappointed. I think I was prepared to find hima failure in this case. Naturally I was not idle during the next fewdays, but at the end of them I had learnt nothing.

  Then the unexpected happened. On consecutive nights two doctors'houses were burgled. The first was in Kensington. Dr. Wheatley hadtaken some part in local politics which had made him unpopular withcertain people, and he was inclined to consider the burglary one ofrevenge rather than intended robbery. Nothing had been stolen, buteverything in his room was in disorder, and a small and unique inlaidcabinet with a secret spring lock had been smashed to pieces. Severalcigarette-ends were on the floor.

  The second was at Dr. Wood's in Ebury Street, an eminent surgeon, andthe author of one or two textbooks. He had several cabinets in hisroom containing specimens, and everything had been turned on to thefloor and damaged more or less. In fact, although nothing had beentaken, the damage was considerable. On the night of the burglary Dr.Wood was away from home, only servants being in the house. The cook,suffering from faceache, had been restless all night, but had heardnothing. It seemed, however, that the burglar must have heard hermoving about and had been prepared to defend himself, for a revolver,loaded in every chamber, was found on one of the cabinets. Apparently,having put it ready for use, he had forgotten to take it away.

  The doctor was furious at the wanton destruction of his specimens,and, being irascible and suspicious, fancied the revolver was merely ablind and that the culprit was some jealous medical man. Again therewere cigarette-ends among the debris.

  As soon as possible I went to Quarles and was shown into the emptyroom.

  "The unexpected has happened," I said.

  "No, no; the expected," he said impatiently, and he pointed to a heapof newspapers. "I've read every report, but tell me yourself--everydetail."

  I did so.

  "The same brand of cigarettes?" he asked.

  "No, but all cheap American ones."

  "One man trying to give the impression that he is several. You stillthink that? Nothing has happened to make you change that opinion?"

  "No, I hold to the one man theory."

  "And you are right," he snapped. "I admit I might not have got uponthe right track had you not made that discovery. It was clever,Wigan."

  "It did not seem to help you to a theory," I answered.

  "True. But it made me ask myself a question. Had the thief found whathe was looking for? Much depended upon the answer. If he had, I sawsmall chance of elucidating the mystery. I might have propounded atheory, but I should have had no facts to support it.

  "Indeed, had I theorized, then my theory would have been wrong. If thethief had not found what he wanted, he would continue his search, Iargued. For some reason he connected Sir Joseph Maynard with theobject of his search, and, when he tried again, we stood a chance offinding the link in the chain we wanted. It might implicate SirJoseph, it might not. That is why I said we must wait. The thief hastried again--twice. Now, what is he looking for?"

  "Presumably something a doctor is likely to have," I said.

  "And not silver, nor money, nor papers, nor----"

  "Nor counters, I suppose," I interrupted.

  "Not precisely," said Quarles. "But those counters have inspired me.They crept into my brain, Wigan, and remained there. Whatever it isthe thief is seeking for, he is desperately anxious to obtainit--witness his two attempts on consecutive nights."

  "You forget that days have elapsed since Sir Joseph's was brokeninto."

  "Forget? Nonsense!" said the professor sharply. "Should I be likely toforget so important a point? It means that opportunity has beenlacking. More, it means that any doctor would not do, only certainmedical practitioners. And that is where the counters help me--or Ithink they do."

  "How?"

  "Call for me to-morrow morning; we are going to pay a visit together.We may be too late, but I hope not. That revolver left in Dr. Wood'shouse rather frightens me."

  "Why, particularly?"

  "It proves that the thief will use violence if he is disturbed, andthat he is a desperate man. I should say he will grow more dangerouswith every failure."

  It was like Christopher Quarles to raise my curiosity, and then toleave it unsatisfied. It was his way of showing that he was mysuperior--at least, it always impressed me like this. No man has evermade me more angry than he has done. Yet I owe him much, and there isno gainsaying his marvelous deductions.

  He made me angry now, first by his refusal to tell me more, and thenby his patronizing air when I left the house.

  "You are clever, Wigan, very clever. You have shown it in this case.But you lack imagination to step out as far as you ought to do.Cultivate imagination, and don't be too bound up by common sense.Common sense is merely the knowledge with which fools on the deadlevel are content. Imagination carries one to the hills, and showssomething of that truth which lies behind what we call truth."

  I found him ready and waiting for me next morning, as eager to be onthe trail as a dog in leash.

  "We are going to call on Dr. Tresman, in Montagu Street," he said,stopping a taxi. "You will tell him that you have reason to believethat his house is being watched, and will be burgled on the firstopportunity. If the opportunity is given, it may happen to-night,which will suit us admirably, because we have got to keep watch everynight in his room until it is burgled. Of course, you will tell himwho you are, and get his permission. We don't want to have to commitburglary ourselves in order to catch the thief."

  "Why do you expect this particular doctor will be visited?" I asked.

  "It is part of my theory," was all the explanation I could get out ofhim.

  Dr. Tresman was a man in the prime of life, and evidently believedhimself capable of dealing with any thieves who visited him. I toldhim that the man we expected was no ordinary thief.

  "A gang at work, eh? I have been out of town for a little whileholiday-making, and part of my holiday consists in not reading thepapers. Of course you may keep watch, and I shall be within callshould you want help."

  "You had better leave it to us, doctor," said Quarles, who, for thepurpose of this interview, posed as my assistant.

  "Come, now, if it means a rough-and-tumble, I should back myselfagainst you," laughed Tresman, drawing himself up to his full inches.

  "No lack of muscle, I can see, doctor, but then there is myexperience."

  "For all that, you may be glad of my muscle when it comes to thepoint," was the answer.

  At nine o'clock that night Quarles and I were concealed in thedoctor's room, Quarles behind a chesterfield sofa in a corner, while Icrouched close to the wall behind one of the window curtains.

  We had decided that the most likely means of entry was by a window atthe end of the hall, and we expected our prey to enter the room by thedoor. We had got the doctor to put a spirit tantalus on the sideboard,also some biscuits and a box of cigarettes. We were anxious toreproduce the circumstances of the burglary at Sir Joseph Maynard's asnearly as possible, for Quarles declared it was impossible to say whatsignificance there might be in the man's every action.

  So we waited--waited all night, in fact. Nothing happened.

  "Something alarmed him," was all Quarles said when we left the housein the morning.

  He showed no disappointment, nor any sign that his theory had receiveda shock.

  The next night we were on the watch again, concealed as before.

  By arrange
ment, the house retired to rest early. So slowly did time gothat half the night seemed to have passed when I heard a neighboringchurch clock strike one, and almost directly afterward the door of theroom was opened stealthily and was shut again.

  Until that moment I had not heard a sound in the house, and I was notcertain that anyone had entered the room even now, until I saw a tinydisk, the end of a ray of light, on the wall. The disk moved, so theman holding the lantern was moving. The next moment he almost trodupon me. His first care was to see that the curtains covered thewindows securely, and it evidently never occurred to him that theremight be watchers in the room. It was discovery from without that hewas afraid of. The ray from his lantern swung about the room for amoment, then he switched on the electric light.

  As he had drawn the curtain closer across the window, I had arrangedthe folds so that no scrap of my clothing should show beneath them.Now I made a slit in the fabric with my penknife so that I could watchhim through it. He was middle-aged, well groomed, decently dressed.Having glanced round the room, he placed a bag and the lantern on thefloor and went to the sideboard. He put a little spirit into one ofthe tumblers and added a little water--a very modest dose,indeed--and, having just sipped it, he poured some of the contentsinto two other glasses, and placed the three glasses on a small tablenear the door, so that no one could fail to see them on entering. Thenhe broke off a piece of biscuit, crumbled it in his hands, andscattered the crumbs beside the glasses. The cigarette box he did nottouch, but he took some cigarette-ends from his pocket and threw themon the floor. These preliminaries seemed stereotyped ones, and heappeared glad to be done with them.

  There was a curious eagerness in his face as he bent down and openedhis bag, taking a thin chisel from it, and from his hip pocket he tooka revolver. His method was systematic. He began at one corner of theroom, and opened every drawer and box he could find. If a drawer werelocked, he pried it open. He laid the revolver ready to his hand uponthe piece of furniture he was examining. Every drawer he emptied on tothe floor. Some of the contents he hardly looked at. Indeed, most ofthe contents did not interest him. But now and then his attention wascloser, and at intervals he seemed puzzled, standing quite still, hishands raised, a finger touching his head, almost as a low comediandoes when he wishes the audience to realize that he is in deepthought.

  For some time I could not make out what kind of article it was towhich he gave special attention, but presently noticed that anythingin ivory or bone interested him, especially if it were circular. Iremembered the counters in Sir Joseph's room, and wished we hadthought to place some in here to see what he would have done withthem.

  Watching him closely, I was aware that he became more irritable as heproceeded. One small cabinet, which might possess a secrethiding-place, he broke with the chisel, and I noticed that whenever adrawer was locked his scrutiny of the contents was more careful. Heevidently expected that the man he was robbing would value the thinghe was looking for, and would be likely to hide it securely.

  He had worked round half the room when he suddenly stopped, and, witha quick movement, took up the revolver. I had not heard a sound in thehouse, but he had. There was no sign of doubt in his attitude, whichwas of a most uncompromising character. He did not make any movementto switch off the light, he did not attempt to conceal himself. Hejust raised his arm and pointed the revolver toward the door, on alevel at which the bullet would strike the head of a man of averageheight.

  The handle was turned, and the door began to open. The next fiveseconds were full of happenings. For just a fraction of time Irealized that the burglar meant to shoot the intruder without a wordof warning, and for a moment I seemed unable to utter a sound. Then Ishouted:

  "Back for your life!"

  Immediately there was a sharp report. Quarles had fired from behindthe Chesterfield, and the burglar's arm dropped like a dead thing tohis side, his revolver falling to the floor.

  "Quickly, Wigan!" Quarles cried.

  I had dashed aside the curtain, and I threw myself upon the burglarjust in time to prevent his picking up his weapon with his left hand.He struggled fiercely, and I was glad of Tresman's help in securinghim, although the doctor had come perilously near to losing his lifeby his unexpected intrusion. But for Christopher Quarles he would havebeen a dead man.

  We called in the police, and, when our prisoner had been conveyed tothe station, the professor and I went back to Chelsea.

  "Do you know what he was looking for, Wigan?" Quarles asked.

  "Something in bone or ivory."

  "Bone," answered Quarles. "Thank heaven that fool Tresman didn't comesooner! We might have missed much that was interesting. You noted howkeen he was with every piece of bone he could find, how irritable hewas growing. The counters, Wigan, they were the clew. But I did notunderstand their significance at first."

  "I do not understand the case now," I confessed, "except that we havecaught a mad burglar."

  "Yes, it's an asylum case, not a prison one," said Quarles. "What wasthe man looking for? That was my first question, as I told you. If hehad not found it at Sir Joseph's he would look again. He did, andvisited two other doctors. Round counters--doctors. There was thelink. I daresay you know, Wigan, there is an annual published givingparticulars of all the hospitals, with the names of the medical staff,consulting surgeons and physicians, and so forth. In the paragraphconcerning St. James's Hospital you will find that the first threenames mentioned are Sir Joseph Maynard, Dr. Wheatley, and Dr. Wood.The fourth is Dr. Tresman. It could not be chance that the burglar hadvisited these men in exact order, so I argued that he would next go toDr. Tresman. The man had had something to do with St. James'sHospital, and, since he was acting like a madman, yet with method, Ijudged he had been a patient who had undergone an operation, outwardlysuccessful, really a failure. He was looking for something of which adoctor at this hospital had robbed him, as he imagined, and, notknowing which doctor, looked at this annual and began at the firstname. I have no doubt he was conscious of the loss of some sense orfaculty, and believed that if he could get back the something that wasmissing he would recover this sense. Moreover, he was exceedinglyanxious that no one should guess what he was looking for, so heattempted to suggest that a gang was at work--the glasses, the crumbs,the cigarette-ends, all placed where they would be certain to attractnotice. Did you see how he touched his head several times to-night?"

  "Yes."

  "That gives the explanation, I think," said Quarles. "To relieve someinjury to his head, he was trepanned at St. James's Hospital, and hewas looking for the bone which the little circular trephine had cutfrom his head. I have no doubt he examined Sir Joseph's round countersvery carefully to make sure that what he wanted was not among them,and he would naturally damage Dr. Wood's specimens. Probably theoriginal pressure was relieved by the operation, but in some other waythe brain was injured. We have seen the result."

  Subsequent inquiry at St. James's Hospital proved that Quarles wasright. The man was a gentleman of small independent means, a bachelor,and practically alone in the world. There was no one to watch hisgoings and comings, no one to take note of his growing peculiarities.His madness was intermittent, but the doctors said he would probablybecome worse, as, indeed, he did, poor fellow!

  "Ah, it is wonderful what surgery can do," said Quarles afterward."But there are limitations, Wigan, great limitations. And when we cometo the brain, great heavens! We are mere babies playing with amechanism of which we know practically nothing. No wonder we so oftenmake a mess of it."