The Red Thumb Mark

by R. Austin Freeman

  CHAPTER XIII

  MURDER BY POST

  The next few days were perhaps the most unhappy that I have known. Mylife, indeed, since I had left the hospital had been one of manydisappointments and much privation. Unfulfilled desires and ambitionsunrealised had combined with distaste for the daily drudgery that hadfallen to my lot to embitter my poverty and cause me to look with gloomydistrust upon the unpromising future. But no sorrow that I had hithertoexperienced could compare with the grief that I now felt incontemplating the irretrievable ruin of what I knew to be the greatpassion of my life. For to a man like myself, of few friends and deepaffections, one great emotional upheaval exhausts the possibilities ofnature; leaving only the capacity for feeble and ineffective echoes. Theedifice of love that is raised upon the ruins of a great passion cancompare with the original no more than can the paltry mosque thatperches upon the mound of Jonah with the glories of the palace that liesentombed beneath. I had made a pretext to write to Juliet and hadreceived a reply quite frank and friendly in tone, by which I knew thatshe had not--as some women would have done--set the blame upon me forour temporary outburst of emotion. And yet there was a subtle differencefrom her previous manner of writing that only emphasised the finality ofour separation.

  I think Thorndyke perceived that something had gone awry, though I wasat great pains to maintain a cheerful exterior and keep myself occupied,and he probably formed a pretty shrewd guess at the nature of thetrouble; but he said nothing, and I only judged that he had observedsome change in my manner by the fact that there was blended with hisusual quiet geniality an almost insensible note of sympathy andaffection.

  A couple of days after my last interview with Juliet, an event occurredwhich served, certainly, to relieve the tension and distract mythoughts, though not in a very agreeable manner.

  It was the pleasant, reposeful hour after dinner when it was our customto sit in our respective easy chairs and, as we smoked our pipes,discuss some of the many topics in which we had a common interest. Thepostman had just discharged into the capacious letter-box an avalancheof letters and circulars, and as I sat glancing through the solitaryletter that had fallen to my share, I looked from time to time atThorndyke and noticed, as I had often done before, with some surprise, acurious habit that he had of turning over and closely scrutinising everyletter and package before he opened it.

  "I observe, Thorndyke," I now ventured to remark, "that you alwaysexamine the outside of a letter before looking at the inside. I haveseen other people do the same, and it has always appeared to me asingularly foolish proceeding. Why speculate over an unopened letterwhen a glance at the contents will tell you all there is to know?"

  "You are perfectly right," he answered, "if the object of the inspectionis to discover who is the sender of the letter. But that is not myobject. In my case the habit is one that has been deliberatelycultivated--not in reference to letters only, but to everything thatcomes into my hands--the habit of allowing nothing to pass without acertain amount of conscious attention. The observant man is, in reality,the attentive man, and the so-called power of observation is simply thecapacity for continuous attention. As a matter of fact, I have found inpractice, that the habit is a useful one even in reference to letters;more than once I have gleaned a hint from the outside of a letter thathas proved valuable when applied to the contents. Here, for instance, isa letter which has been opened after being fastened up--apparently bythe aid of steam. The envelope is soiled and rubbed, and smells faintlyof stale tobacco, and has evidently been carried in a pocket along witha well-used pipe. Why should it have been opened? On reading it Iperceive that it should have reached me two days ago, and that the datehas been skilfully altered from the thirteenth to the fifteenth. Theinference is that my correspondent has a highly untrustworthy clerk."

  "But the correspondent may have carried the letter in his own pocket," Iobjected.

  "Hardly," replied Thorndyke. "He would not have troubled to steam hisown letter open and close it again; he would have cut the envelope andaddressed a fresh one. This the clerk could not do, because the letterwas confidential and was addressed in the principal's handwriting. Andthe principal would have almost certainly added a postscript; and,moreover, he does not smoke. This, however, is all very obvious; buthere is something rather more subtle which I have put aside for moredetailed examination. What do you make of it?"

  He handed me a small parcel to which was attached by string atypewritten address label, the back of which bore the printedinscription, "James Bartlett and Sons, Cigar Manufacturers, London andHavana."

  "I am afraid," said I, after turning the little packet over andexamining every part of it minutely, "that this is rather too subtle forme. The only thing that I observe is that the typewriter has bungled theaddress considerably. Otherwise this seems to me a very ordinary packetindeed."

  "Well, you have observed one point of interest, at any rate," saidThorndyke, taking the packet from me. "But let us examine the thingsystematically and note down what we see. In the first place, you willnotice that the label is an ordinary luggage label such as you may buyat any stationer's, with its own string attached. Now, manufacturerscommonly use a different and more substantial pattern, which is attachedby the string of the parcel. But that is a small matter. What is muchmore striking is the address on the label. It is typewritten and, as yousay, typed very badly. Do you know anything about typewriters?"

  "Very little."

  "Then you do not recognise the machine? Well, this label was typed witha Blickensderfer--an excellent machine, but not the form most commonlyselected for the rough work of a manufacturer's office; but we will letthat pass. The important point is this: the Blickensderfer Company makeseveral forms of machine, the smallest and lightest of which is theliterary, specially designed for the use of journalists and men ofletters. Now this label was typed with the literary machine, or, atleast, with the literary typewheel; which is really a very remarkablecircumstance indeed."

  "How do you know that?" I asked.

  "By this asterisk, which has been written by mistake, the inexpertoperator having pressed down the figure lever instead of the one forcapitals. The literary typewheel is the only one that has an asterisk,as I noticed when I was thinking of purchasing a machine. Here, then, wehave a very striking fact, for even if a manufacturer chose to use a'Blick' in his factory, it is inconceivable that he should select theliterary form in preference to the more suitable 'commercial' machine."

  "Yes," I agreed; "it is certainly very singular."

  "And now," pursued Thorndyke, "to consider the writing itself. It hasbeen done by an absolute beginner. He has failed to space in two places,he has written five wrong letters, and he has written figures instead ofcapitals in two instances."

  "Yes; he has made a shocking muddle of it. I wonder he didn't throw thelabel away and type another."

  "Precisely," said Thorndyke. "And if we wish to find out why he did not,we have only to look at the back of the label. You see that the name ofthe firm, instead of being printed on the label itself in the usualmanner, is printed on a separate slip of paper which is pasted on thelabel--a most foolish and clumsy arrangement, involving an immense wasteof time. But if we look closely at the printed slip itself we perceivesomething still more remarkable; for that slip has been cut down to fitthe label, and has been cut with a pair of scissors. The edges are notquite straight, and in one place the 'overlap,' which is socharacteristic of the cut made with scissors, can be seen quiteplainly."

  He handed the packet to me with a reading-lens, through which I coulddistinctly make out the points he had mentioned.

  "Now I need not point out to you," he continued, "that these slipswould, ordinarily, have been trimmed by the printer to the correct sizein his machine, which would leave an absolutely true edge; nor need Isay that no sane business man would adopt such a device as this. Theslip of paper has been cut with scissors to fit the label, and it hasthen been pasted on to the surface that it has been made to fit, whe
nall this waste of time and trouble--which, in practice, meansmoney--could have been saved by printing the name on the label itself."

  "Yes, that is so; but I still do not see why the fellow should not havethrown away this label and typed another."

  "Look at the slip again," said Thorndyke. "It is faintly but evenlydiscoloured and, to me, has the appearance of having been soaked inwater. Let us, for the moment, assume that it has been. That would lookas if it had been removed from some other package, which again wouldsuggest that the person using it had only the one slip, which he hadsoaked off the original package, dried, cut down and pasted on thepresent label. If he pasted it on before typing the address--which hewould most probably have done--he might well be unwilling to riskdestroying it by soaking it a second time."

  "You think, then, there is a suspicion that the package may have beentampered with?"

  "There is no need to jump to conclusions," replied Thorndyke. "I merelygave this case as an instance showing that careful examination of theoutside of a package or letter may lead us to bestow a little extraattention on the contents. Now let us open it and see what thosecontents are."

  With a sharp knife he divided the outside cover, revealing a stoutcardboard box wrapped in a number of advertisement sheets. The box, whenthe lid was raised, was seen to contain a single cigar--a largecheroot--packed in cotton wool.

  "A 'Trichy,' by Jove!" I exclaimed. "Your own special fancy, Thorndyke."

  "Yes; and another anomaly, at once, you see, which might have escapedour notice if we had not been on the _qui vive_."

  "As a matter of fact, I _don't_ see," said I. "You will think me anawful blockhead, but I don't perceive anything singular in a cigarmanufacturer sending a sample cigar."

  "You read the label, I think?" replied Thorndyke. "However, let us lookat one of these leaflets and see what they say. Ah! here we are:'Messrs. Bartlett and Sons, who own extensive plantations on the islandof Cuba, manufacture their cigars exclusively from selected leaves grownby themselves.' They would hardly make a Trichinopoly cheroot from leafgrown in the West Indies, so we have here a striking anomaly of an EastIndian cigar sent to us by a West Indian grower."

  "And what do you infer from that?"

  "Principally that this cigar--which, by the way, is an uncommonly finespecimen and which I would not smoke for ten thousand pounds--isdeserving of very attentive examination." He produced from his pocket apowerful doublet lens, with the aid of which he examined every part ofthe surface of the cigar, and finally, both ends. "Look at the smallend," he said, handing me the cigar and the lens, "and tell me if younotice anything."

  I focussed the lens on the flush-cut surface of closely-rolled leaf, andexplored every part of it minutely.

  "It seems to me," I said, "that the leaf is opened slightly in thecentre, as if a fine wire had been passed up it."

  "So it appeared to me," replied Thorndyke; "and, as we are in agreementso far, we will carry our investigations a step further."

  He laid the cigar down on the table, and, with the keen, thin-bladedpenknife, neatly divided it lengthwise into two halves.

  "_Ecce signum_!" exclaimed Thorndyke, as the two parts fell asunder; andfor a few moments we stood silently regarding the dismembered cheroot.For, about half an inch from the small end, there appeared a littlecircular patch of white, chalky material which, by the even manner inwhich it was diffused among the leaf, had evidently been deposited froma solution.

  "Our ingenious friend again, I surmise," said Thorndyke at length,taking up one of the halves and examining the white patch through hislens. "A thoughtful soul, Jervis, and original too. I wish his talentscould be applied in some other direction. I shall have to remonstratewith him if he becomes troublesome." "It is your duty to society,Thorndyke," I exclaimed passionately, "to have this infernal,cold-blooded scoundrel arrested instantly. Such a man is a standingmenace to the community. Do you really know who sent this thing?"

  "I can form a pretty shrewd guess, which, however, is not quite the samething. But, you see, he has not been quite so clever this time, for hehas left one or two traces by which his identity might be ascertained."

  "Indeed! What traces has he left?"

  "Ah! now there is a nice little problem for us to consider." He settledhimself in his easy chair and proceeded to fill his pipe with the air ofa man who is about to discuss a matter of merely general interest.

  "Let us consider what information this ingenious person has given usabout himself. In the first place, he evidently has a strong interest inmy immediate decease. Now, why should he feel so urgent a desire for mydeath? Can it be a question of property? Hardly; for I am far from arich man, and the provisions of my will are known to me alone. Can itthen be a question of private enmity or revenge? I think not. To thebest of my belief I have no private enemies whatever. There remains onlymy vocation as an investigator in the fields of legal and criminalresearch. His interest in my death must, therefore, be connected with myprofessional activities. Now, I am at present conducting an exhumationwhich may lead to a charge of murder; but if I were to die to-night theinquiry would be carried out with equal efficiency by Professor Spiceror some other toxicologist. My death would not affect the prospects ofthe accused. And so in one or two other cases that I have in hand; theycould be equally well conducted by someone else. The inference is thatour friend is not connected with any of these cases, but that hebelieves me to possess some exclusive information concerninghim--believes me to be the one person in the world who suspects and canconvict him. Let us assume the existence of such a person--a person ofwhose guilt I alone have evidence. Now this person, being unaware that Ihave communicated my knowledge to a third party, would reasonablysuppose that by making away with me he had put himself in a position ofsecurity.

  "Here, then, is our first point. The sender of this offering is probablya person concerning whom I hold certain exclusive information.

  "But see, now, the interesting corollary that follows from this. I,alone, suspect this person; therefore I have not published mysuspicions, or others would suspect him too. Why, then, does he suspectme of suspecting him, since I have not spoken? Evidently, he too must bein possession of exclusive information. In other words, my suspicionsare correct; for if they were not, he could not be aware of theirexistence.

  "The next point is the selection of this rather unusual type of cigar.Why should he have sent a Trichinopoly instead of an ordinary Havanasuch as Bartletts actually manufacture? It looks as if he were aware ofmy peculiar predilection, and, by thus consulting my personal tastes,had guarded against the chance of my giving the cigar to some otherperson. We may, therefore, infer that our friend probably has someknowledge of my habits.

  "The third point is, What is the social standing of this gentlestranger, whom we will call X? Now, Bartletts do not send theiradvertisements and samples to Thomas, Richard and Henry. They send,chiefly, to members of the professions and men of means and position. Itis true that the original package might have been annexed by a clerk,office boy or domestic servant; but the probabilities are that Xreceived the package himself, and this is borne out by the fact that hewas able to obtain access to a powerful alkaloidal poison--such as thisundoubtedly is."

  "In that case he would probably be a medical man or a chemist," Isuggested.

  "Not necessarily," replied Thorndyke. "The laws relating to poisons areso badly framed and administered that any well-to-do person, who has thenecessary knowledge, can obtain almost any poison that he wants. Butsocial position is an important factor, whence we may conclude that Xbelongs, at least, to the middle class.

  "The fourth point relates to the personal qualities of X. Now it isevident, from this instance alone, that he is a man of exceptionalintelligence, of considerable general information, and both ingeniousand resourceful. This cigar device is not only clever and original, butit has been adapted to the special circumstances with remarkableforethought. Thus the cheroot was selected, apparently, for twoexcellent reasons: first, that
it was the most likely form to be smokedby the person intended, and second, that it did not require to have theend cut off--which might have led to a discovery of the poison. The planalso shows a certain knowledge of chemistry; the poison was not intendedmerely to be dissolved in the moisture of the mouth. The idea evidentlywas that the steam generated by the combustion of the leaf at thedistal end, would condense in the cooler part of the cigar and dissolvethe poison, and the solution would then be drawn into the mouth. Thenthe nature of the poison and certain similarities of procedure seem toidentify X with the cyclist who used that ingenious bullet. The poisonin this case is a white, non-crystalline solid; the poison contained inthe bullet was a solution of a white, non-crystalline solid, whichanalysis showed to be the most poisonous of all akaloids.

  "The bullet was virtually a hypodermic syringe; the poison in this cigarhas been introduced, in the form of an alcoholic or ethereal solution,by a hypodermic syringe. We shall thus be justified in assuming that thebullet and the cigar came from the same person; and, if this be so, wemay say that X is a person of considerable knowledge, of great ingenuityand no mean skill as a mechanician--as shown by the manufacture of thebullet.

  "These are our principal facts--to which we may add the surmise that hehas recently purchased a second-hand Blickensderfer of the literary formor, at least, fitted with a literary typewheel."

  "I don't quite see how you arrive at that," I said, in some surprise.

  "It is merely a guess, you know," he replied, "though a probable one. Inthe first place he is obviously unused to typing, as the numerousmistakes show; therefore he has not had the machine very long. The typeis that which is peculiar to the Blickensderfer, and, in one of themistakes, an asterisk has been printed in place of a letter. But theliterary typewheel is the only one that has the asterisk. As to the ageof the machine, there are evident signs of wear, for some of the lettershave lost their sharpness, and this is most evident in the case of thoseletters which are the most used--the 'e,' you will notice, for instance,is much worn; and 'e' occurs more frequently than any other letter ofthe alphabet. Hence the machine, if recently purchased, was boughtsecond-hand."

  "But," I objected, "it may not have been his own machine at all."

  "That is quite possible," answered Thorndyke, "though, considering thesecrecy that would be necessary, the probabilities are in favour of hishaving bought it. But, in any case, we have here a means of identifyingthe machine, should we ever meet with it."

  He picked up the label and handed it to me, together with his pocketlens.

  "Look closely at the 'e' that we have been discussing; it occurs fivetimes; in 'Thorndyke,' in 'Bench,' in 'Inner,' and in 'Temple.' Now ineach case you will notice a minute break in the loop, just at thesummit. That break corresponds to a tiny dent in the type--caused,probably, by its striking some small, hard object."

  "I can make it out quite distinctly," I said, "and it should be a mostvaluable point for identification."

  "It should be almost conclusive," Thorndyke replied, "especially whenjoined to other facts that would be elicited by a search of hispremises. And now let us just recapitulate the facts which our friend Xhas placed at our disposal.

  "First: X is a person concerning whom I possess certain exclusiveinformation.

  "Second: He has some knowledge of my personal habits.

  "Third: He is a man of some means and social position.

  "Fourth: He is a man of considerable knowledge, ingenuity and mechanicalskill.

  "Fifth: He has probably purchased, quite recently, a second-hand 'Blick'fitted with a literary typewheel. "Sixth: That machine, whether hisown or some other person's property, can be identified by acharacteristic mark on the small 'e.'

  "If you will note down those six points and add that X is probably anexpert cyclist and a fairly good shot with a rifle, you may possibly beable, presently, to complete the equation, X = ?"

  "I am afraid," I said, "I do not possess the necessary data; but Isuspect you do, and if it is so, I repeat that it is your duty tosociety--to say nothing of your clients, whose interests would suffer byyour death--to have this fellow laid by the heels before he does anymischief."

  "Yes; I shall have to interfere if he becomes really troublesome, but Ihave reasons for wishing to leave him alone at present."

  "You do really know who he is, then?"

  "Well, I think I can solve the equation that I have just offered to youfor solution. You see, I have certain data, as you suggest, which you donot possess. There is, for instance, a certain ingenious gentlemanconcerning whom I hold what I believe to be exclusive information, andmy knowledge of him does not make it appear unlikely that he might bethe author of these neat little plans."

  "I am much impressed," I said, as I put away my notebook, after havingjotted down the points that Thorndyke had advised me to consider--"I ammuch impressed by your powers of observation and your capacity forreasoning from apparently trivial data; but I do not see, even now, whyyou viewed that cigar with such immediate and decided suspicion. Therewas nothing actually to suggest the existence of poison in it, and yetyou seemed to form the suspicion at once and to search for it as thoughyou expected to find it."

  "Yes," replied Thorndyke; "to a certain extent you are right. The ideaof a poisoned cigar was not new to me--and thereby hangs a tale."

  He laughed softly and gazed into the fire with eyes that twinkled withquiet amusement. "You have heard me say," he resumed, after a shortpause, "that when I first took these chambers I had practically nothingto do. I had invented a new variety of medico-legal practice and had tobuild it up by slow degrees, and the natural consequence was that, for along time, it yielded nothing but almost unlimited leisure. Now, thatleisure was by no means wasted, for I employed it in considering theclass of cases in which I was likely to be employed, and in working outtheoretical examples; and seeing that crimes against the person havenearly always a strong medical interest, I gave them special attention.For instance, I planned a series of murders, selecting royal personagesand great ministers as the victims, and on each murder I brought to bearall the special knowledge, skill and ingenuity at my command. I inquiredminutely into the habits of my hypothetical victims; ascertained whowere their associates, friends, enemies and servants; considered theirdiet, their residences, their modes of conveyance, the source of theirclothing and, in fact, everything which it was necessary to know inorder to achieve their deaths with certainty and with absolute safety tothe murderer."

  "How deeply gratified and flattered those great personages would havefelt," I remarked, "if they had known how much attention they werereceiving."

  "Yes; I suppose it would have been somewhat startling, to the PrimeMinister, for instance, to have learned that he was being watched andstudied by an attentive observer and that the arrangements for hisdecease had been completed down to the minutest detail. But, of course,the application of the method to a particular case was the essentialthing, for it brought into view all the incidental difficulties, inmeeting which all the really interesting and instructive details wereinvolved. Well, the particulars of these crimes I wrote out at length,in my private shorthand, in a journal which I kept for the purpose--andwhich, I need not say, I locked up securely in my safe when I was notusing it. After completing each case, it was my custom to change sidesand play the game over again from the opposite side of the board; thatis to say, I added, as an appendix to each case, an analysis with acomplete scheme for the detection of the crime. I have in my safe at thepresent moment six volumes of cases, fully indexed; and I can assure youthat they are not only highly instructive reading, but are reallyvaluable as works of reference."

  "That I can readily believe," I replied, laughing heartily,nevertheless, at the grotesqueness of the whole proceeding, "though theymight have proved rather incriminating documents if they had passed outof your possession."

  "They would never have been read," rejoined Thorndyke. "My shorthand is,I think, quite undecipherable; it has been so made intentio
nally with aview to secrecy."

  "And have any of your theoretical cases ever turned up in real life?"

  "Several of them have, though very imperfectly planned and carried outas a rule. The poisoned cigar is one of them, though, of course Ishould never have adopted such a conspicuous device for presenting it;and the incident of the other night is a modification--for the worse--ofanother. In fact, most of the intricate and artistic crimes with which Ihave had to deal professionally have had their more complete andelaborate prototypes in my journals."

  I was silent for some time, reflecting on the strange personality of mygifted friend and the singular fitness that he presented for the part hehad chosen to play in the drama of social life; but presently mythoughts returned to the peril that overshadowed him, and I came back,once more, to my original question.

  "And now, Thorndyke," I said, "that you have penetrated both the motivesand the disguise of this villain, what are you going to do? Is he to beput safely under lock and key, or is he to be left in peace and securityto plan some other, and perhaps more successful, scheme for yourdestruction?"

  "For the present," replied Thorndyke, "I am going to put these things ina place of safety. To-morrow you shall come with me to the hospital andsee me place the ends of the cigar in the custody of Dr. Chandler, whowill make an analysis and report on the nature of the poison. After thatwe shall act in whatever way seems best."

  Unsatisfactory as this conclusion appeared, I knew it was useless toraise further objections, and, accordingly, when the cigar with itsaccompanying papers and wrappings had been deposited in a drawer, wedismissed it, if not from our thoughts, at least from our conversation.