There were one or two rooms sparely furnished — one as a bedroom, a larger room, with a long table, a sofa, and several chairs; and in one of the smaller rooms was found a stove, ladles and crucibles for the melting down of metals — gold or silver. It was in this same room also that the table stood, in the drawers of which were found papers, letters and formulæ — things giving more than a hint of the use to which Mayes had put his friendship with Mr. Jacob Mason, for of every possible manner and detail in which science — more particularly the science of chemistry — could aid in the commission of crime, there were notes in these same drawers.
But most of these things were observed in detail later. The thing that set us once more on the trail of Mayes, that very night and that very hour, was found in the isolated office facing the street. It was a cheque-book, quite full of unused cheques.
“This cheque-book,” said Hewitt to Inspector Plummer and myself, “was in the drawer below that in which we discovered the Admiralty code. The Eastern Consolidated is the bank, as you see — Upper Holloway branch. Now we must follow this at once, before waiting to search any further. There may be something more important as a clue, or there may not, but at any rate, while we are looking for it we are losing time. This may bring us to him at once.”
“You mean that he may have some address in Holloway,” suggested Plummer, “and we may get it from the bank?”
“There’s that possibility, and another,” Hewitt answered. “He has had to bolt without warning or preparation, with nothing but the clothes he ran in — probably very little money. Money he will want at once, and he would rather not wait till the morning to get it; if he can get it at once it will mean thirteen or fourteen hours’ start at least. More, he will know very well that this place will be searched, that this cheque-book will be discovered soon enough, and that consequently the bank will be watched. This is what he will do — what he is doing now, very likely. He will knock up the resident manager of that bank and try to get a cheque cashed to-night. I don’t think that can be done; in which case he will probably try to make some arrangement to have money sent him. Either way, we must be at the Upper Holloway branch of the Eastern Consolidated Bank as soon as a hansom can get us there.”
Thus it was settled, and Hewitt and Plummer went off at once, leaving Plummer’s men, with the City police, in charge of the raided premises; leaving some of them also to make inquiries in the neighbourhood. Mr. Victor Peytral had shown himself anxious to accompany Hewitt and Plummer, but had been dissuaded by Hewitt. I guessed that Hewitt feared that some hasty indiscretion on the part of this terribly wronged man might endanger his plans. Peytral, however, seemed tractable enough, and left immediately after them; he had business, he said, which he expected would occupy him for a day or two, and when it was completed he would see us again.
As for myself I only remained long enough to ascertain that the police could find no trace of the direction of Mayes’s flight in the immediate neighbourhood. They had little to aid them. He had gone without a hat, and his dress was in some degree disordered by his struggle with me; but the latter defect he might easily have remedied in the courts as he ran, and they could gather no tidings of a hatless man. So I took my way to my office, my wrist growing stiffer and more painful as I went, so that I was not sorry to arrange for another member of the staff to take my duty for the night, and to get to bed a few hours earlier than usual, after the day’s fatigue and excitement.
II
Going to bed uncommonly soon I woke correspondingly early in the morning; but I was no earlier than Hewitt, who was at my door, in fact, ere my breakfast was well begun.
“Well,” I asked eagerly, almost before my friend had entered, “have you got him at last?”
“Not yet,” Hewitt answered. “But he did exactly as I had expected. Plummer and I knocked up the bank manager, who lives over the premises at the Upper Holloway branch. He was a very decent fellow — rather young for the post — but he was naturally a bit surprised, possibly irritated, at being bothered by one and another after office hours. I showed him the cheque-book, and asked him if it belonged to any customer of his.
“‘Why, yes,’ he said, examining the numbers, ‘I remember this because it is the first of a new series, and we issued it the day before yesterday to a new customer. Where did you get it?’
“‘We are very anxious to see that customer,’ I said. ‘Has he been here this evening?’
“The manager seemed a trifle surprised, but answered readily enough. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘he was here not an hour ago.’
“‘Wanting to draw money?’ I asked. But that the manager wouldn’t tell me, of course. So that it was necessary for Plummer to step in and reveal the facts that this was a police matter, and that he was a detective-inspector. That made some difference. The manager told us that our man had opened an account at the bank only two days before; and I’d like you to guess what name he had opened it under.”
“Not Myatt?” I said. “After the chase — —”
“No, not Myatt.”
“Catherton Hunt?”
“No, nor Catherton Hunt. He had opened it in the name of Mayes!”
“What! his actual name?”
“His actual original name, according to Peytral. The account was transferred, it would seem, from another bank; and I have an idea we may find that he has been shifting his money about from one bank to another as safety suggested, using his real name with it. You remember we could find no trace of a banking account when the police raided and ransacked Calton Lodge after Mason was killed? Quite probably he has had small current accounts in other names at various times to aid in his schemes, but his main account has always stood in his real name; and by that, you see, we get some confirmation of Peytral’s story. Well, as I say, the account was opened in the name of Mayes, and the cheque-book was issued which we discovered last night. The Upper Holloway branch saw no more of its customer till yesterday evening, long after hours, when he drove up in a hansom.”
“Oh,” I said, “in a hansom, was it? The men left behind could get no news of him.”
“Yes, we ascertained that last night; we called back, of course, the last thing. I expect he got the first cab visible and drove off to a hatter’s a fair distance away, and then on to the bank. At any rate, he knocked up the manager and told him that he had a sudden need for money that very night; could he have some?
“The manager told him it would be impossible. Even if he had been willing to do it, against all regulations, it would still be impossible. For the strong-room and every cash receptacle in it was locked with two separate locks with different keys, and though he had one of these keys himself, it was useless without the other, which was in the possession of his second in command, who lived some distance out of London. This course is the usual precaution adopted in branch banks of this sort; opening and closing, morning and evening, have to be done by chief and assistant together. And I tell you, Brett, I believe that it was only the being informed of this fact that prevented Mayes from trying some of his hypnotic tricks on the bank manager; in which case there would have been a big bank robbery — perhaps something worse in addition.”
“Murder?”
“Murder with a tourniquet, perhaps — perhaps with some other weapon; but, at any rate, probably with the Red Triangle. You know, of course — indeed I told you, I think — that in most cases — not all — it is necessary to get the subject’s consent to the first exercise of hypnotism on him. I told you also it is possible for the practised hypnotist, while the subject is under the influence of the first experiment, to suggest to him a certain word or formula, or even a silent sign, which shall bring him under the influence at any other time, whenever the hypnotist chooses to repeat it — just as must have been done with Mr. Telfer, in the case of the Admiralty code. The first suggestion would not be the difficult thing it might seem — it would only require a little time and persuasion. Nothing would be said about hypnotism, of course; perhaps somet
hing about a little physical experiment, or the like, and then in a moment or two the subject would be in this creature’s power for ever. Remember the little ‘ceremony of initiation’ that the scoundrel attempted to persuade you to submit to! That meant hypnotism — perhaps death.
“But this is mere speculation. Mayes found that the keys on the premises were not enough to release his money, even if the strict rules of the bank had permitted the cashing of a cheque out of hours. But the manager suggested that perhaps some neighbouring tradesman would exchange cash for a cheque, and, with the view of obliging the new customer, went with him as far as the shop of Mr. Isaac Trenaman, a grocer and cheesemonger with a rather large shop at the corner of the road. Mr. Trenaman, introduced and assured by the manager, was willing to give as much cash as he could find in the till against Mr. Mayes’s cheque, and did so to the extent of twenty-seven pounds, a cheque for which sum was duly drawn on one of the tradesman’s own cheque forms, and left with him. This done, the bank’s new customer took himself off, with thanks and apologies; carrying with him, however, two blank cheque forms from Mr. Trenaman’s book, the pennies for which he punctiliously paid over the counter. Having no cheque forms with him, he explained, he might find them useful if he could come across some friend who could provide the cash he wished to use that night. And having completed this business so far, this charming new customer of the bank made off into the night.”
“And is that all you know of his movements?”
“Yes, as yet. He seems to have made no very definite excuse to the manager for wanting the money in such a hurry — just said something had occurred which made cash necessary, and was very polite and apologetic, generally. The manager formed a notion that it must be for some gambling purpose — he fancied that Mayes said something distantly alluding to that, but wasn’t sure.”
“Did you ask about the address given to the bank?”
“Of course; but there we gained nothing. The manager couldn’t remember it exactly, and the books, of course, were locked up. But we know it already — for what the manager could remember was that it was an office address, and somewhere near Barbican! So that we are back at the Barbican den again, where I am going now, with Plummer, to give a day to a minute investigation of the whole place. Meanwhile a watch is being set at the bank in Holloway.”
“Do you expect him back there, then?”
“Hardly. You see he knows that by this time we must have found his cheque-book, and will be on the watch. But there is just a chance — a very remote one — that he may send a message; perhaps send somebody to cash a cheque. Though I don’t expect it, for he is no fool — he is, indeed, a sort of genius — and that would be a mistake, I think. Still, he is bold, and that is where his money is, and he may make a dash at it. So a couple of Plummer’s men are to be waiting there, this morning, in the manager’s office, and if anybody comes from Mayes he will be detained. Perhaps you would like to be with them? You can’t be of much use with me, and the job will be dull. But there you may have a chance of excitement, and you will be useful to come and report if anything does happen. Why, you may even bag Mayes himself!”
“Of course — I’ll go anywhere you please. They told you last night, I suppose, that Peytral had business, and had gone off?”
“Yes, and I’m not sorry. He is too dangerous a man to have about us, with his hot blood and the terrible injuries he keeps in memory. As likely as not, if we get Mayes, we should next have to collar Peytral for shooting him, or something. So I’m not sorry he is out of it for a bit. But can you start now? Plummer is in my office and the two men are in a cab outside. The bank opens at nine, and that is in Upper Holloway.”
I seized my hat and made ready.
“You should keep your eyes open,” Hewitt hinted, “before you get to the bank and when you leave, as well as while you’re there. Do you remember how poor Mason was watched? Well, there is probably some watching going on now. Last night, on our way to the bank and back, I believe Plummer and I were watched pretty closely.”
III
Plummer’s two plain-clothes men and I reached the neighbourhood of the bank with a quarter of an hour to spare, or rather more. We dismissed the cab at some little distance from the spot, and approached singly, so that it was not difficult for us to slip in separately among the dozen or fifteen clerks as they arrived. We passed directly into the manager’s room, the door of which opened into the space left for the public before the counter. From this room the whole of the outer office was visible through the glass of the partition. The manager, Mr. Blockley, a quick, intelligent man of thirty-six or so, gave us chairs and pointed out how best we could watch the counter without ourselves being observed.
“If a letter is sent,” he said, “it will be brought here to me, of course, and I will bring the messenger in. If a cheque is presented from Mayes, I have told the cashier to slide that big ledger off his desk accidentally with his elbow. That will be your signal, and then you can do whatever you think proper. I don’t think I can do any more than that.”
We took our positions and waited. I felt pretty sure that if Mayes sent at all it would be early, for obvious reasons. And I was right, for the very first customer was our man.
He stepped in briskly scarcely a minute after the manager had ceased speaking, and I remembered having seen him waiting at the street corner as I came along. He was a well-dressed, smart enough looking man, in frock coat and tall hat. He took a letter-case from his pocket, picked out a cheque from the rest of the papers in it, and passed it under the wire grille of the counter.
The cashier took it, turned it over, and shifted mechanically to post the amount in the book on his desk. As he did so his elbow touched the heavy ledger which the manager had pointed out to us, and it fell with a crash. The cashier calmly put his pen behind his ear, and stooped to pick up the book, but even as he did it the two Scotland Yard men were out before the counter, and had sidled up to the stranger, one on each side.
“May we see that cheque, if you please?” asked one, and the cashier turned its face toward him. “Ah, just so; a hundred pounds — Mayes. We must just trouble you to come with us, if you please. There is some explanation wanted about that cheque.”
I had followed the two men from the manager’s room, and now I saw that while one had laid his hand on the stranger’s shoulder the other had taken him by the opposite arm. “Why,” said the former, looking into his face, “it’s Broady Sims!”
“All right,” the man growled resignedly. “It’s a cop. I’ll go quiet.”
But as he spoke I saw the free hand steal out behind him and pitch away a crumpled fragment of paper. One of the policemen saw it too, followed it with his eyes, and saw me snatch it up.
“That’s right, sir,” he said, “take care of that; and we’ll have a cab, in case anything else drops accidentally. It’s just a turning over, Broady, that’s what it is.”
I spread out the piece of paper, and was astonished to find inscribed on it just such another series of figures, in groups of eight, as was found in the cypher message in the Case of the Lever Key.
Here was a great find — a secret message as clear to me as to Mayes himself, and as likely as not the scrap of paper that would hang him! I took one of the plain-clothes men aside while the other kept his hold of Broady Sims.
“This is very important,” I said. “It is a cypher message which Mr. Hewitt can read — or I, myself, in fact, with a little time. Must you take it with you? If so, I’ll make a copy now.”
“Well, sir, we’re responsible, you see,” the man said, “so I think we must take it; so perhaps you’d better make a copy, as you suggest.”
“Very well,” I said, “that is done in a few seconds. You can take your man off, and I will go direct to Mr. Hewitt and Inspector Plummer with the copy.” And with that I made the copy, which read thus: —
23, 19, 15, 1, 9, 14, 9, 2; 20, 8, 1,. 20, 14, 14, 20, 8; 14, 5, 12, 4, 9, 7,. 5, 14; 3, 8, 18, 23, 0, 14, 1, 8; 22,.
9, 6, 1, 18, 3, 5, 1; 19, 14, 15, 21,. 9, 0, 20, 12; 18, 12, 21, 1, 6, 23, 20,. 12; 9, 18, 15, 5, 18, 13, 12, 20.
It struck me to ask the manager if the cheque just presented were one of those procured from Mr. Trenaman the night before, and I found that it was. Then I left the policemen with their prisoner and made for the nearest cab-rank. This cypher message, no doubt conveying Mayes’s instructions to the man just captured, was probably of the utmost importance, and Hewitt must see it at once; and as the cab ambled along towards Barbican I busied myself in deciphering the figures according to the plan of the knight’s move in chess, as Hewitt had explained to me. I could only see two noughts among the numbers, so plainly it was a longer message than the one then deciphered — one of sixty-two letters, in fact. I turned the figures into the letters corresponding in the alphabet, a for 1, b for 2, and so on, as Hewitt had done, and I arranged these letters in the squares of a roughly drawn chessboard, so that they stood thus: —
w
s
o
a
i
n
i
b
Delphi Complete Works of Arthur Morrison Page 70