by Robert Warr
Truly, our parents have wrought a nasty revenge on me for my innocent romance.
Lucy, please send a note to John and tell him how I miss him.
Snuffles and the Cat Burglars
I was sitting in my uncle’s study, while waiting for him to come back from the Yard, contemplating several financial matters that had come to a head. Mainly I was worrying about my uncle’s reaction to what was undoubtedly ‘a rare piece of foolishness’. I had made the common mistake of guaranteeing a loan for a friend. Unfortunately, bad luck at cards had made it impossible for him to repay his creditor so I was, therefore, responsible for repaying his debt. It was only a modest amount but more than my salary could happily cover.
I had taken a notebook out of my pocket and was once more running through the figures, hoping to find some redeeming feature. I was so deeply engrossed in this forlorn search that I did not see Snuffles enter the study and I was startled when he suddenly barked behind me. I leapt to my feet, sending the notebook flying.
‘Good afternoon. I note that you are somewhat preoccupied today. It therefore does not take a Sherlock Holmes to deduce that you have financial problems.’ Snuffles paused for a second before adding the single telling word ‘again.’
While I mumbled a protest, Snuffles retrieved my notebook and placed it in my hand. Sitting down facing me, he cocked his head slightly to one side and raised his ears in a questioning manner.
‘Do you want to rehearse your pitiful tale with me before you have to tell your uncle?’ he asked, ‘or would you prefer to discuss something else?’
It was quite obvious to me that my uncle would cover my problem in exhaustive detail before agreeing to help me. I decided therefore that I would prefer to take my mind off my troubles.
‘Can you tell me about one of my uncle’s cases?’ I asked the dog.
‘Certainly,’ replied Snuffles. ‘I will tell you about a series of robberies that occurred several years ago. It was a strange case and without a sudden inspiration I doubt whether your uncle would have solved it.’
Snuffles settled himself comfortably with his head on his paws and began.
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The November of that year was an awful month. Days went by without any break in the fog and as a result, the morale of the police force dropped. Thick fog favours the villain. Not only can the miscreant quickly throw off pursuit, but also the fog tends to play tricks with your ears making it hard to determine the origin of a sound. For a dog, it is even worse because the fog traps some smells and washes away other scents.
Petty crimes had increased and the number of arrests had fallen. All we could do was ensure that we kept a tangible presence on the streets to reassure people. Although it was over a year since the last Whitechapel murder, it was very easy to imagine on those foggy nights that Jack the Ripper was waiting in every alley.
One morning we reached the Yard to find a message instructing us to go to the home of Lord Harridge. Apparently, the noble Lord had suffered from an audacious burglary during the night. So we took a cab and soon found ourselves pulling up outside his Lordship’s town house.
Your uncle spent some minutes walking up and down examining the road, the pavement and the front of the house before climbing the steps and ringing the bell. A very proper butler opened the door and in a disapproving manner let us into the house. As we entered the hall we were met by Sergeant Allen.
‘Good morning, Inspector,’’ Sergeant Allen greeted my master while pulling one of my ears. ‘This is quite a straightforward robbery in some ways. The burglar entered the house by means of a first floor window, which is conveniently situated over a back porch. He then made his way to Lady Harridge’s dressing room and stole most of her jewellery. It was a slick and professional crime.’
‘Did the criminal take anything else?’ my master asked.
‘As far as we can tell, Sir, the thief took only the jewellery.’ The sergeant paused then continued, ‘in my opinion he knew exactly what he wanted and where to find it.’
‘Does Lord Harridge suspect any of the servants?’ my master asked: because Sergeant Allen’s comment raised the possibility that a member of the household had been either deliberately or accidentally indiscreet. This was quite a common problem in the larger houses because, unfortunately, servants do tend to gossip. My master has had cases where quite innocently a servant has boasted of their employer’s wealth to their own and their master’s grief. It was also true that many servants were paid an absolute pittance and a pressing financial problem could drive them to crime.
‘Lord Harridge became quite annoyed when I asked him that question,’ Sergeant Allen replied. ‘The servants have worked for him for years. In point of fact, all his male servants are men from his old regiment. The servants all refer to Lord Harridge as the Colonel and there seems to be a genuine regard for the old gentleman.’
‘Inspector Thompson?’ the butler asked while approaching your uncle. ‘Lord Harridge wonders whether you could spare him a few minutes.’
My master agreed to see his Lordship at once, since it is these small politenesses that make a witness co-operative rather than hostile. We followed the butler along the hall and to a plain door, which he opened.
‘Inspector Thompson, Colonel,’ the butler announced while ushering us into Lord Harridge’s study. His Lordship turned out to be an elderly gentleman with a decidedly military bearing. As we entered the room, he rose from an armchair and greeted your uncle with a firm handshake. The room was extremely comfortable in a very masculine way. A pair of battered leather wing chairs stood on either side of an Adam fireplace in which burnt a welcome fire. Lying on the mat in front of the hearth was an elderly Red Setter.
‘I once served with your father, young man,’ Lord Harridge began.
Knowing that this human equivalent of sniffing another dog usually takes a few minutes to determine the participants’ precise rank within the pack, I walked over and introduced myself to the Setter.
Although I spoke quite quietly, the old dog visibly winced. It was obvious that he was not feeling very well so I lowered my voice and asked him what was wrong.
‘It’s this robbery, youngster,’ he replied. ‘Fine guard dog I turn out to be. Thirteen years of food and devotion from my master and the one time he needs me, I spend the night fast asleep.’
I naturally tried to tell him that he could not blame himself, but he shrugged off my reassurances.
‘It’s my fault,’ he continued. ‘I allowed myself to sleep through the robbery. I didn’t hear a thing. My master would have had to step over me to get out into the hallway. A disgrace, that’s what I am and no mistake. I deserve to be turned out, I do indeed.’
Looking at him, I saw that his eyes were extremely red. I sniffed carefully and detected a faint odour that I always associate with very sick humans.
‘Did you eat anything unusual last night?’ I asked.
‘Now you come to mention it,’ he replied, ‘I did chase an alley cat off a piece of steak that it was dragging through my garden. The meat tasted a bit funny but I showed the cat who was boss. Strangely enough, the chase seemed to exhaust me. I barely had enough energy to make it to my master’s room before I fell asleep.’
It was obvious to me that the Setter had been carefully drugged to ensure that he couldn’t detect the burglar. I was about to tell him this when I heard my master suggest that Lord Harridge tell his account of the previous night so I turned my attention back to the men.
‘Everything was normal when we went to bed,’ Lord Harridge began. ‘My butler, Symes, reported to me that all the doors and windows were secure before he retired for the night. I sat up for a while and read before I went to bed myself. I would say that by one o’clock the house was quiet.
‘I woke up at about three fifteen. I was sure that I had heard something out of the ordinary, possibly a faint click. I have always been a very light sleeper, a trait strengthened by my service on the frontier. As I lay in my bed l
istening I clearly heard the sound of movement on the landing. The noise was very faint but quite unmistakable, or so I thought. I eased myself out of bed and took hold of an Indian club that I keep handy for just such occasions.
‘I crept to the door and listened. I could definitely hear movement. I took two quick breaths and pulled the door open. I could see the hallway bathed in faint moonlight but there was no one in sight. As I stood there, I heard a soft hissing followed instantly by a small scurrying sound. Suddenly my wife’s cat came charging out of her dressing room and began chasing an imaginary mouse up and down the landing. Laughing at the silly animal’s antics, I went back to bed.
‘It was only this morning when we discovered the robbery that I remembered Symes telling me that my wife’s cat wouldn’t come in when called. It seems obvious to me that the cat re-entered the house through the window that the burglar opened.’
My master asked to see the window that had been used by the burglar. I was quite surprised when Lord Harridge took us himself rather than delegating the task to one of his staff. We were shown to the first floor landing and taken through a green baize door into one of the servants’ passages. At one end of this corridor, a small window was standing open. I placed my front paws on the windowsill and looked out. Immediately below the window, there was the sloping roof of a porch. I had a quick sniff and determined that a man and a pair of cats had recently entered through the window.
Your uncle bent to examine the window. One of the leaded panes had been totally removed. Sergeant Allen and my master agreed that it had the look of a professional thief.
Your uncle thanked Lord Harridge and asked if he could interview the rest of the household. His Lordship agreed but insisted that he was present during the interviews.
We interviewed the staff one at a time in Lord Harridge’s study and did not learn anything new about the burglary. It was obvious that Lord Harridge’s servants were devoted to him and most of them thought they had ‘let him down’ by not preventing the burglary in some unstated way. It made a pleasant change to find a totally contented household and I believe it was a testament to the enlightened way that his Lordship treated his staff.
The only interesting part of these interviews came when my master was talking to the cook. Apparently, small amounts of food had been vanishing over the past few weeks. The items were quite small and light. The list included some smoked salmon, several sausages, a quail and a small block of cheese. The cook was certain that none of the staff had taken them. She was, she admitted, suspicious of the grocer’s boy because he had stolen a mince pie two Christmases before. Your uncle accepted that the theft of the food was an interesting problem but he could not see any link with the previous night’s theft of Her Ladyship’s jewellery.
Once the last of the interviews had been concluded Lord Harridge turned to your uncle. ‘Well, Inspector, what do you think?’ he asked.
‘It was a very professional job.’ My master replied. ‘We need to compile a list of your wife’s jewellery so that we can circulate it to all the London jewellers and pawnbrokers.’
‘Can you catch him?’ Lord Harridge insisted.
‘At the moment we have no evidence. Until we establish the facts we will not be able to arrest anyone.’ My master shrugged and continued, ‘a professional criminal is normally only caught after several crimes. Once we have established our villain’s habits we can identify him and arrest him.’
‘Much as I thought,’ Lord Harridge said ruefully. ‘A friend of mine, Sir James Trimperton, suffered from a similar robbery three weeks ago. He lives down near Brighton. It might help if you contacted the officer who dealt with that robbery.’
My master thanked Lord Harridge and promised to inform him of any developments. Leaving Sergeant Allen to produce a list of the stolen items, we made our way to your uncle’s office at the Yard where he arranged for a telegram to be sent to Brighton asking for a brief summary of Sir James’ robbery. It was, as he said, a long shot but we had nothing else to work with.
Sergeant Allen returned about two hours later, having made arrangements for a list of the stolen jewellery to be circulated to all the capital’s pawnshops. We did not really expect any results from this since it is normally only petty or impulse criminals who attempt to pawn their stolen goods. The rest of that day was spent dealing with other important matters, such as lunch.
The following morning we arrived at the Yard to find that a package had been delivered from Brighton. Your uncle opened it and quickly read though the contents before calling Sergeant Allen into his office.
‘This is from Inspector Clarke at Brighton,’ my master began. ‘He has sent us a copy of his report on the robbery at Sir James’ house. The robbery had occurred sometime in the early hours of the last Friday of October. The burglar had entered the house by removing a pane of glass in the servants’ hall. The intruder then seemed to have gone directly to Lady Trimperton’s dressing room where her jewel case had been stolen.
‘Inspector Clarke then writes that they initially had a suspect. One of the maids had been sacked without a reference earlier that week for stealing small amounts of food. She had sworn that she was innocent and that Sir James was wronging her. The local police traced her to her home village and arrested her. It was soon established, however, that she had been working until well after midnight in the village inn.
‘I think that it is probably a coincidence,’ my master continued, ‘but we have two professional robberies. In both cases, however, there are seemingly unrelated thefts of food in the weeks preceding both the robberies. I think we should go and see Sir James. There may be some details that Inspector Clarke thinks are too trivial for his report.’
Sergeant Allen made the arrangements for this trip with his usual efficiency and we found ourselves after lunch travelling by train to Brighton, soon leaving the London fog behind.
We were met at the station by a tall, dapper man who identified himself as Inspector Clarke. He led us from the station to a waiting carriage, which took us to Brighton Police Station and the relative warmth of the Inspector’s office.
The three police officers discussed the two crimes and it became obvious that there were marked similarities between the burglaries. The modus operandi was, however, new. It was also apparent that Sir James and Lord Harridge moved in the same social circles. This meant that some of their servants were familiar with both houses. Unfortunately, this also applied to the retainers of several of their aristocratic friends. However, it did give us a possible starting place for the investigation.
Inspector Clarke then took us to Sir James’ town house. This building was in a quiet avenue close to the front. The smell of the sea was especially welcome after the fogs of London and I gave some thought to running off for a swim. I am, however, a conscientious dog and duty always comes before pleasure. A lane running between two of the houses indicated that there was stabling accessible from the rear of the property.
We were shown into the house by a rather grand butler who asked us to wait in the library in tones that suggested that we were lucky to be invited into the house. I have noticed that some of the servants of the upper classes are far more class conscious than their employers. It was obvious that the butler thought that the police were very lower class. I waited until we were alone before I had a good scratch. I know that it was petty but the sight of dog hair on an otherwise pristine rug filled me with delight.
I was somewhat surprised when an elderly gentleman dressed in comfortable old clothes came into the room and greeted Inspector Clarke warmly. He was introduced to us as Sir James. One sniff was enough to tell me that he was of a scholarly temperament. There was a faint smell of old books about him that led me to assume that we had disturbed him at his work.
‘What can I do for you gentlemen?’ he asked politely. ‘Have you found any of my wife’s trinkets?’
‘Unfortunately not, Sir James,’ Inspector Clarke replied. ‘My London colleague, Inspector Thompson,
is investigating a very similar robbery in town. He thinks that the two robberies may have been perpetrated by the same man, and would like to ask you some questions.’
‘Certainly, Inspector,’ the old gentleman replied. ‘I have already run through that evening with Inspector Clarke here, but if another retelling will help, this is what happened.
‘My wife and I retired early that evening leaving my butler Jenkins to lock up. About two o’clock in the morning, Jenkins says that he heard a noise. When he went out to investigate, he found my wife’s cat playing on the staircase. He thought nothing more about it and went back to bed.’
Inspector Clarke volunteered, with Sir James’ permission, to show my master where the burglar had entered the house and the possible route he had taken to Her Ladyship’s dressing room. I was dutifully following the two inspectors when I heard a faint noise from behind a floor length curtain. A quick sniff told me that a cat was hiding there, a young and rather scared cat. I quietly lay down and waited for the men to go out of earshot.
‘Hello, young one,’ I said in my most friendly voice. ‘My name is Snuffles and I have come here with a police inspector. I would like to ask you a few simple questions about the recent theft of your pet’s toys.’
‘Go away,’ hissed a young feline voice from behind the draperies.
I was not overly surprised by the cat’s initial reaction. I was, after all, a strange dog and a young cat was not likely to trust me instantly. Knowing from my observations of your uncle that eye contact is important when trying to make a witness trust you, I carefully hooked the curtain to one side with my paw, revealing a very small tabby with a tail fluffed up like a chimney sweep’s brush.
‘Just a moment of your time, youngster,’ I said in my most engaging tone as the cat started to move away.’ What happened during the burglary? I know you were an eyewitness. Anything you can tell me might be of help to your people.’