Death at Breakfast

by John Rhode

  ‘I have no doubt that the idea of defrauding his partner had been present in his mind for many years. As soon as Mr Slater retired he began to put his plan into action. He meant to accumulate a sum of money which would enable him to live in comfort for the rest of his days without the tiresome necessity of attending to business. Being of an extravagant disposition, he found himself unable to save that sum by honest means. Hence the system of fraud which I have supposed. But there was always the danger that the fraud would be discovered. He decided that at a certain time Knott should disappear, leaving in his place a different person to enjoy the proceeds of his industry. That is why he created the fictitious Stanley Fernside.’

  Hanslet looked incredulous but said nothing. After a short pause, Dr Priestley continued. ‘The only object of Fernside’s existence was to accumulate a bank balance. For that purpose he must produce proof of his existence and possess a genuine address. Knott provided these for him. His disguise was so simple that it can hardly be called such. The difficulty of disguise varies with circumstances. For instance, it would be very difficult for Oldland to disguise himself in such a way that I should not recognise him if I remained long enough in his company. On the other hand, if I met a stranger in the street, the first time disguised and the second time not disguised, I would probably not suspect that I had seen the same individual in both cases.

  ‘Knott had considered this fact and applied it very cleverly. The artificial production of a pallid and spotty complexion is a matter of no great difficulty. It is equally easy to simulate a stoop or a limp. But where he showed a stroke of genius was in carrying an unusual stick. This was bound to attract the eye, and at the same time avert attention from, say, his features, or the colour of his eyes. You will observe that all the descriptions you have obtained of Fernside mention the stick and the spotty complexion. These, in fact, are the only peculiarities which seem to have been noticed. Knott counted on this being the case. Further, he was very careful not to appear as Fernside to anybody who knew Knott. And he only appeared as Fernside when it was strictly necessary for him to do so.

  ‘His original intention, I think, had been to retire when he had accumulated sufficient funds. The personality of Knott would then have been obliterated. Stanley Fernside would have taken his place and drawn money from the bank as he required it. But Victor Harleston’s discovery interfered with his plans and he was forced to revise them.

  ‘He planned and carried out the murder of Victor Harleston with considerable skill. But later he was obsessed by the guilty conscience which is the curse of all criminals. It is very unlikely that the police would ever have discovered his guilt. But he was taking no risks. It was time for Knott to disappear in such a way that his disappearance would be accepted as final. And, lest the connection between Knott and Fernside should somehow be discovered, it was necessary that Fernside should disappear as well. Fernside’s disappearance would, of course, have been only temporary. When the murder of Victor Harleston and the disappearance of Edward Knott had been forgotten, Fernside would reappear and claim his money from the bank. He would no doubt then be furnished with some plausible story to account for the condition of the flat in Banbridge Road.

  ‘But let us return to Knott’s behaviour on reaching Manchester after his disappearance from Torquay. Here he perpetrated the one fatal error which the most astute criminals are said to commit. He sent some of the notes which he had himself drawn to the Fernside account. Probably he did not wish to carry so large a sum about with him now that it had served its purpose. He cannot have overlooked the possibility that the police would ascertain the numbers of those notes and the consequent danger that they would be traced. It was one of those inexplicable actions with which we are all familiar.

  ‘It wouldn’t have been any good to us but for your hint, Professor,’ said Hanslet. ‘What made you think that those notes might be found in London?’

  ‘By a logical process of reasoning,’ Dr Priestley replied. ‘I was never convinced that Knott had been murdered, mainly, I think, because the evidences of that murder were a shade too convincing. If no murder had taken place, then Knott must have disappeared voluntarily. He would then be compelled to seek some hiding place while he was, so to speak, manufacturing a new personality. I did not then know that this personality was in readiness. And the most secure and easily accessible hiding-place is undoubtedly London. I did not anticipate that Knott had committed the folly of paying the notes into a bank. But I thought that possibly he might be compelled to change one or more of them and that in this way he might be traced.’

  ‘When did you first suspect Knott of having murdered Victor Harleston?’

  ‘Not until I learnt of his disappearance. And then I asked myself the reason of this. Could it have had any connection with the death of Victor Harleston? You and the inspector had already formulated a condition with which Harleston’s murderer must comply. And I saw that Knott was one of the few persons who could fulfil that condition.’

  ‘The lack of apparent motive didn’t worry you then, Professor?’ Hanslet suggested slyly.

  ‘The motive was not difficult to deduce. You yourself suggested it, although you did not see the correct application of your suggestion. You guessed the existence of some secret shared by Knott and Harleston alone. But you were convinced that both had been murdered in consequence of this secret. It did not occur to you, therefore, to reflect whether or not Knott might have murdered Harleston.’

  ‘Well, I’d like to lay my hands on the chap,’ exclaimed Hanslet viciously. ‘He’s given me a lot of trouble and made me look a bit of a fool into the bargain. But he’s had time to get clean away, and it’ll be a hopeless job to find him. Never mind, I’ll set every man on the force on his track.’

  ‘That, if I may say so, would be an extremely foolish proceeding,’ said Dr Priestley. ‘Knott has shown himself to be a very clever man. He is probably watching the course of events with the closest attention. He has no doubt completely changed his appearance for the third time, and is probably living somewhere quietly under conditions which give rise to no slightest suspicion. If you institute a search for him, he will know that he is suspected, and he will make no further sign. If, on the other hand, you appear to let the matter drop, you will inspire him with confidence. Let it be understood that you accept the fact of Edward Knott’s death, and that you are not concerned with the disappearance of Stanley Fernside. Then, sooner or later, an attempt will be made to draw from the funds lying to the credit of Fernside, and thus you will obtain the necessary clue to his whereabouts.’

  Hanslet perceived that Dr Priestley had nothing more to say. He rose and prepared to take his leave.

  ‘Well,’ he said with heavy jocularity, ‘it’s been a knotty problem, anyhow.’

  Oldland sighed wearily. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to say that all the evening, Superintendent,’ he murmured.

  4

  Hanslet, after consultation with the Assistant Commissioner, decided to take Dr Priestley’s advice. Investigation into the murder of Victor Harleston was apparently abandoned. Jimmy was allowed to assure Janet and Philip Harleston that no further suspicion rested upon them. Superintendent Latham of Torquay was taken into the secret and Gavin Slater was released from detention. But behind the scenes Hanslet did not relax his activities.

  His first action was to investigate the affairs of Messrs. Slater & Knott. No record of the actual profits of the firm could be discovered, and it seemed probable that Knott had made away with this before his disappearance. However, an independent accountant was employed, and after a long and careful inquiry, he arrived at an approximate idea of what the profits since Mr Slater’s retirement should have been.

  The deed of partnership, of which Mr Slater had a copy, provided that after the latter’s retirement Knott should be awarded a fixed annual sum in recognition of his activities. After the deduction of this sum, the profits were to be divided between them equally. Comparing the sums which Mr Slat
er had received with the estimated profits, it was found that Knott must have defrauded him to the extent of some £40,000. This agreed very closely with the sum which had accumulated to Stanley Fernside’s credit.

  Dr Priestley’s theory was so far justified. And in the course of his investigation Hanslet discovered several other small points concerning it. He paid a visit to Lassingford and questioned Janet Harleston very closely as to the man she had seen upon the doorstep upon the morning of her half-brother’s death. He learnt that she had never been to the offices of Slater & Knott and had never to her knowledge seen Mr Knott. But upon being shown the photograph which Jimmy had secured, she agreed that so far as she could remember it bore a considerable likeness to the man. This, though not very satisfactory in itself, was a step in the right direction.

  Hanslet’s next step was to examine Knott’s car, which he removed to Scotland Yard for the purpose. In the tool box he found a grease-gun. This had been newly filled with ordinary motor-car grease. The proprietor of the garage where the car was kept said that he had not filled it. In fact, he had never used the grease gun, because he had an apparatus of his own with which he greased Mr Knott’s car periodically. Hanslet handed over the grease gun to the analysts, telling them of his suspicions. They found that the grease was slightly contaminated with nicotine.

  The superintendent was overjoyed at this, since it confirmed the guess he had made very early in the inquiry. Knott had undoubtedly used the grease-gun to force the poisoned shaving cream into its tube. He had then cleaned it thoroughly, as he supposed, and repacked it with grease.

  Mr Topliss, the general manager of Novoshave Ltd. stated that he had had a conversation with Mr Knott shortly before the audit took place. In the course of this conversation he had mentioned the new model razor which was about to be placed on the market. Mr Knott had asked whether the new model was yet obtainable and had been told that it was not. During the same interview, Mr Knott had taken a packet of sheets of the firm’s notepaper and had made notes upon the top sheet. Mr Topliss believed that he had taken this and the remaining sheets away with him.

  This gave Hanslet a new idea. He had learnt that in Mr Knott’s room at his offices was a safe of which he had been told that nobody but Mr Knott himself possessed a key. He had this safe opened by the makers. It was empty but for a few unimportant documents, mainly of a private nature. These documents he handed over to the fingerprint department at Scotland Yard. The department found several fingerprints upon them, all of which appeared to belong to the same individual. It was, therefore, a legitimate assumption that these fingerprints were Mr Knott’s. He then submitted the sheets of Novoshave letter paper, which he had found in Mr Harleston’s desk at No. 8 Matfield Street. These also bore fingermarks identical with those found upon the documents. Knott then must have put these sheets of letter paper in the desk. This was another example of his thoroughness. He had foreseen that the bogus letter to Harleston might be found. The discovery of the blank sheets in the desk would suggest that somebody in the house had compiled the letter. Janet declared that Mr Knott had never visited the house in Matfield Street. If he had placed the sheets in the desk, it could only have been during her absence. Yet another indication that he had been the man whom she had seen on the doorstep.

  Hanslet next turned his attention to establishing the identity between Edward Knott and Stanley Fernside. It was significant that the blood found in the flat in Banbridge Road and that found in Mr Slater’s house at Torquay was of the same class. But, unfortunately, the experts could go no further than this. Science was not sufficiently advanced for them to declare that the blood came from the same individual. However, the superintendent was enabled to obtain one or two valuable hints. He submitted the letter written by Stanley Fernside from Manchester and several specimens of Mr Knott’s writing to the handwriting experts for examination and comparison. They found certain characteristics common to both. The writing of Stanley Fernside was unnatural and strained, as though deliberately disguised. But certain of the strokes, and above all the proportions of the letters, showed a close affinity to the writing of Mr Knott.

  Jimmy, who was associated with Hanslet in the inquiry, had a stroke of luck. He had been given the task of making a thorough and minute examination of Mr Knott’s rooms in Crozier Court. He found, entangled in the carpet of Mr Knott’s bedroom, several loose hairs. These were subjected to microscopic examination, together with the hairs found on the knob of Stanley Fernside’s famous stick. Both of these samples of hair were found to have the same rather unusual peculiarity of structure. They were of identical colour and showed that their owners were at least of the same age. It was impossible to say definitely that they came from the same head, but the probabilities in favour of this were very strong. Another fact ascertained by Jimmy was this. A large tabby cat had for a long time been in the habit of prowling about Crozier Court. It had vanished some time within the past few weeks. By diligent inquiry, Jimmy established that it had not been seen since Friday, January 18th.

  Meanwhile the manager of the West-End Branch of the City & Suburban Bank had been requested to communicate at once with the police should any attempt be made to draw upon the account of Stanley Fernside. As the weeks went by and nothing was heard of that elusive gentlemen, Hanslet began to grow restive. More than once he had almost made up his mind to publish a description of Knott, together with his photograph, but Jimmy, who had greater faith in Dr Priestley’s wisdom, managed to dissuade him. And at last patience was justified. Towards the end of April a message came from the bank manager. A cheque bearing the signature Stanley Fernside had been presented.

  Hanslet went at once to the bank, where he was shown the cheque. It was payable to James Parkington, and had been presented through a bank at Felixstowe. Hanslet and Jimmy took the next train for that town and went straight to the bank on their arrival. Having presented their credentials, they were given all available information. Mr James Parkington was the proprietor of a private hotel and when paying in the cheque had mentioned that it had been given to him by one of his customers.

  They secured the address of the hotel, which was only a short distance away. It was quite small and unpretentious.

  ‘Just the sort of place our man would choose,’ exclaimed Hanslet triumphantly. ‘Now, if he’s at home, this affair will be ended at last.’

  As they approached the door, an elderly man, walking with the aid of a stick, came out. In their eagerness to apprehend Knott they paid no attention to him. He glanced at them and seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, with more agility than he appeared to possess, he set off down the street at a smart walk.

  Had it not been for this display of nervousness, he might even have then escaped. But already something in his bearing had attracted Jimmy’s attention, and his sudden haste seemed suspicious.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ Jimmy exclaimed. ‘I’d like to have a closer look at that chap.’

  He went off in pursuit. Jimmy was normally a fast walker, but the elderly man seemed more than a match for him. They covered nearly the whole length of the street, the distance between them increasing rather than diminishing. Then Jimmy broke into a run. Hearing his footsteps behind him, the elderly man threw off all pretence of infirmity. He, too, broke into a smart run, heading away from the centre of the town towards the open country. But when it came to running, Jimmy proved the better man of the two. He had been a rugger blue at Cambridge, and was now even fitter than he had been then. After a few paces, he began gradually to overhaul his man, and it was evident that sooner or later he must overtake him.

  But, after all, the glory of the capture was not to be his. Hanslet was less impetuous, both of foot and head. He stopped a passing car, jumped on the running board and told the driver to pursue the fugitive. He overtook and passed Jimmy. Then, as the car drew alongside his quarry, he jumped off the running board and laid his hand upon his shoulder.

  ‘I want a word with you,’ he said.

  It wa
s obvious that the man’s nerves had deserted him. He had at last believed himself safe, and the sudden appearance of Hanslet and Jimmy, whom of course he had recognised, had completely demoralised him. He stood there, breathless and shivering, until Jimmy came up.

  ‘Well Jimmy, here’s the man you wanted to see,’ said Hanslet grimly.

  Jimmy looked at him searchingly. The man had changed his appearance as far as possible but had made no attempt at disguise. He had evidently realised that a permanent disguise is the most difficult thing to maintain. Beneath the beard and heavy moustache, Jimmy discerned the features he recognised.

  ‘You are Edward Knott,’ he said positively.

  The man’s lips quivered weakly. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he replied. ‘My name is Stanley Fernside.’

  ‘Then you can tell us what happened in your flat in Banbridge Road last January,’ said Hanslet. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your seaside holiday, but I shall have to ask you to come back to London with us.’

  In the cold atmosphere of Scotland Yard he gave up all further attempt at pretence. He admitted that he was Edward Knott and, confronted by the proof of the frauds upon his partner, he admitted his guilt. He seemed relieved when his statement had been taken down and he signed it.

  Hanslet paused. He seemed on the point of ordering his removal from the room. Knott watched him, as an animal at bay might watch the hounds confronting it. Then, after a tense silence which seemed to last an age, Hanslet spoke.

  ‘How did Victor Harleston find out what you were up to?’ he asked almost casually.

  Knott went livid and his fingers clutched the arms of his chair convulsively. ‘Harleston!’ he exclaimed. ‘What has he got to do with it?’

  ‘With the fraud, very little, I imagine,’ Hanslet replied. ‘But I shall charge you with murdering him through the agency of poisoned shaving cream. You may as well save yourself the trouble of denying the crime. We know exactly how you carried it out. All right, that will do for the present.’