The dream detective: being some account of the methods of Moris Klaw

by Sax Rohmer; Internet Archive

  Said Moris Klaw: "That cab was from the big garage at Brixton. We shall ring up the Brixton garage and learn where the man may be found. Perhaps, if Providence is with us—and Providence is with the right—he has not yet again left home."

  From a public call office we rang up the garage, and learned that the man we wanted was not due to report for duty until ten o'clock. We experienced some difficulty in obtaining his private address, but finally it was given to us. Thither we hastened, and aroused the man from his bed.

  "A big gentleman and a sick lady," said Moris Klaw, "they hired your cab from Doctor Gleeson's, near Beira Road, at about twelve o'clock last night, and you drove them to the Savoy Hotel."

  "No, sir. He changed the address afterward. I've been wondering why. I drove him to Number 6a, Rectory Grove, Old Town, Clapham."

  "Was the lady by then recovered—no? Yes?"

  "Partly, sir. I heard him talking to her. But he carried her into the house."

  "Ah," said Moris Klaw, "there is much genius

  wasted; but what a great science is the science of the mind!"

  IV

  Many times Moris Klaw knocked upon the door of the house in Clapham Old Town, a small one, standing well back from the roadway. Within we could hear someone coughing.

  Then the door was suddenly thrown open, and a man appeared who must have stood some six feet three inches. He had finely chiselled features, was clean-shaven, and wore pince-nez.

  Klaw said a thing that had a surprising effect.

  "What!" he rumbled, "has Nina caught cold?"

  The other glared, with a sudden savagery coming into his eyes, fell back a step, and clenched his great fists.

  "Enough, Jean Colette!" said Morris Klaw, "you do not know me, but I know you. Attempt no tricks, or it is the police and not a meddlesome, harmless old fool who will come. Enter, Jean! We follow."

  For a moment longer the big man hesitated, and I saw the shadows of alternate resolves passing across his fine features. Then clearly he saw that surrender was inevitable, shrugged his shoulders, and stared hard at my companion.

  "Enter, messieurs," he said, with a marked French accent.

  CASE OF THE IVORY STATUE 119

  He said no more, but led the way into a long, bare room at the rear of the house. To term the apartment a laboratory would be correct but not inclusive; for it was, in addition, a studio and a workshop. Glancing rapidly around him, Moris Klaw asked, "Where is it?" "

  The man's face was a study as he stood before us, looking from one to the other. Then a peculiar smile, indescribably winning, played around his lips. "You are very clever, and I know when I am beaten," he remarked; "but had you come four hours later it would have been one hour too late."

  He strode up the room to where a tall screen stood, and, seizing it by the top, hurled it to the ground.

  Behind, on a model's dais, reclined the statue of Nicris, in a low chair!

  "You have already removed the girdle and one of the anklets," rumbled Klaw.

  This was true. Indeed, it now became evident that the man had been interrupted in his task by our arrival. Opening a leather case that stood upon the floor by the dais, he produced the missing orna-

  ments.

  What action is to be taken, messieurs?" he asked, quietly.

  "No action, Jean," replied Moris Klaw. "It is impossible, you see. But why did you delay so long?"

  E2Q THE DREAM DETECTIVE

  The other's reply was unexpected.

  "It is a task demanding much time and care, if the statue is not to be ruined; otherwise I should have performed it in Mr. Paxton's studio instead of

  going to the trouble of removing the figure—and

  Nina's condition has caused me grave anxiety throughout the night." He stared hard at Moris Klaw. We could hear the sound of coughing from some room hard by. "Who are you, m'sieur?" he asked, pointedly.

  "An old fool who knew Nina when she posed at Julien's, Jean," was the reply, "and who knew you, also, in Paris."

  Paxton, Coram, myself, and Moris Klaw sat in the studio, and all of us gazed reflectively at the re^ covered statue.

  "It was so evident," explained Klaw, "that, since you were absent from here but thirty seconds, for any one to have removed the statue during that time was out of the question."

  "But someone did "

  "Not during that time," rumbled Moris Klaw. "Nicris was removed whilst you all made merry within the house!"

  "But, my dear Mr. Klaw, Searles, Coram, and I saw the statue long after that—some time about one o'clock!"

  CASE OF THE IVORY STATUE 121

  "Wrong, my friend! You saw the model /"

  "What! Nina?"

  "Madame Colette, whom you knew in Paris as Nina—yes! Listen—when I drop off to sleep here and dream that I am afraid for what may happen to some very large man, I dream, also, that I fear to be touched ! I look down at myself, and I am beautiful! I am ivory of limb and decked with gold! I creep, so cautiously, out of the studio (in my dream— you would call it a dream), and I know, when I wake, that I must have been Nicris! Ah, you wonder! Listen.

  "At about midnight, whilst your party is amiable together, comes one, Jean Colette, a clever scamp from that metropolis of such perverted genius—Paris. Into Doctor Gleeson's he goes, supporting Madame— your model. This is seen by Constable Freeman. When the trees hide them they climb over the fence into the lane and over the wall into your garden. Nina has a cast of the studio key. How easy for her to get it!

  "Jean, a clever rogue with his hands, and a man who promised to be, once, a great artist, detaches the figure from the throne and arrays it as Madame—in Madame's outer garb! Beneath her cloak, Madame is Nicris—with copies of the jewels and all complete. He is clever, this Jean! He is, too, a man of vast strength—a modern Crotonian Milo. Not only does he carry that great piece of ivory from the studio, he

  lifts it over the wall—did Madame assist?—and into Doctor Gleeson's drive. He bears it to the gate, wrapped in Nina's furs. He calls a policeman! Ah, genius is here! He gives the wrong address. He is as cool as an orange!

  "Do they escape now? Not so! He sees that you, finding Nicris missing, will apply to the point-policeman and get hold upon a thread. He says, 'I will make it to appear that the robbery took place at a later time. I will thus gain hours! Another policeman will be on duty when the discovery is made; he will know nothing.' He leaves Nina to pretend to be Nicris!

  "Ah! she has courage, but her fears are many Most of all she dreads that you will touch her! Yow do not. And Jean, the ivory statue safe at Clap-ham, returns for Nina. He comes into the doctor's drive by the farther gate—where the point-policeman cannot see him. He wears rubber shoes. He mounts to the studio roof. He lies flat upon the ledge above the door. His voice is falsetto. He calls, 'Nicris!'

  "Presently, you come out. You peep over the wall. Ah! out, also, is Madame! She stretches up her white arms—so like the real ivory!—he stretches down his steel hands. He raises her beside him! Name of a dog, he is strong!

  "Why to the roof and not over the wall? The path is of gravel and her feet are bare. On the roof, to prove me correct, upon the grime are marks of

  CASE OF THE IVORY STATUE 123

  small bare feet; are marks of men's rubber shoes; are, halfway along, marks of smaller rubber shoes— which he had brought for Nina. He has forethought. They retire by the farther gate of your neighbour's drive.

  "No doubt he bring her furs as well—no doubt. But she contracts a chill, no wonder! Ah! he is cool, he is daring, he is a great man "

  A maid entered the studio.

  "A gentleman to see you, sir."

  "Ask him to come along here."

  A short interval—and Jean Colette entered, hat in hand!

  "These two wedges, m'sieur"—he bowed to Paxton—"which help to attach the girdle. I forgot to return them. Adieu!"

  He placed the wedges on a table and, amid a dramatic silence, withdrew.

  Mori
s Klaw took out the cylindrical scent spray from the lining of the brown bowler.

  "A true touch of Paris!" he rumbled. "Did I not say he was a great man?"

  FIFTH EPISODE

  CASE OF THE BLUE RAJAH

  INSPECTOR GRIMSBY called upon me one evening, wearing a great glumness of countenance. "Look here/' said he, "I'm in a bit of a corner. You'll have heard that a committee of commercial magnates has been formed to buy. and on behalf of the City of London to present to the Crown, the big Indian diamond?"

  I nodded and pushed the box of cigarettes toward him.

  "Well," he continued, thoughtfully selecting one, "they are meeting in Moorgate Street to-morrow morning to complete the deal and formally take over the stone. Sir Michael Cayley, the Lord Mayor, will be present, and he's received a letter, which has been passed on to me."

  He fumbled for his pocket-case. Grimsby is a man who will go far. He is the youngest detective-inspector in the service, and he has that priceless gift—the art of using other people for the furtherance of his own ends. I do not intend this criticism un-

  kindly. Grimsby does nothing dishonourable and seeks to rob no man of the credit that may be due. There is nothing underhand about Grimsby, but he is exceedingly diplomatic. He imparts official secrets to me with an ingenuousness entirely disarming—but always for reasons of his own.

  "Here you are," he said, and passed a letter to me.

  It read as follows:

  " To the Right Hon. the Lord Mayor of London.

  "My Lord:

  "Beware that the Blue Rajah is not stolen on Wednesday the 13th inst. Do not lose sight of it for one moment.

  "Your Lordship's obedient servant,

  "Moris Klaw."

  "You see," continued Grimsby, "Wednesday the thirteenth is to-morrow, when the thing is being brought to Moorgate Street. Naturally, Sir Michael communicated with the Yard, and as I'm in the know about Moris Klaw, I got the job of looking into the matter. I was at the Mansion House this morning."

  "I suppose Sir Michael regards this note with suspicion?"

  "Well, he's not silly enough to suppose that anybody who thought of stealing the diamond would drop him a line advising him of the matter! But he'd

  never heard of Moris Klaw until I explained about him. When I told him that Klaw had a theory about the Cycle of Crime, and his letter probably meant that, according to said theory, on Wednesday the thirteenth the Blue Rajah was due to be lifted, so to speak, he laughed. You'll have noticed that people mostly laugh at first about Moris Klaw?"

  "Certainly. You did, yourself!"

  "I know it—and I'm suffering for it! Klaw won't lift his little finger when I ask him; and as for his daughter, she giggles as though she was looking at a comedian when she looks at me ! She thinks I'm properly funny!"

  "You've been to Wapping, then?"

  "Yes, this afternoon. The Lord Mayor wanted a lot of convincing that Moris Klaw was on the straight after I'd told him that the old gentleman was a dealer in curios in the East End. Finally, he suggested that I should find out what the warning meant exactly. But I couldn't get to see Klaw; his daughter said he was out."

  "I suppose every precaution will be taken?' 1

  "To-morrow morning we have arranged that I and two other C.I.D. men are to accompany the party to the safe deposit vaults to fetch the diamond and we shall guard it on the way back afterward."

  "Who's going to fetch it?"

  "Sir John Carron, representing the India Office, Mr. Mark Anderson—the expert—representing the

  city, and Mr. Gautami Chinje, representing the Gaekwar of Nizam. I was wondering"—he surveyed the burning end of his cigarette—"if you had time to run down to Wapping yourself and find out from what direction we ought to look for trouble?"

  "Sorry, Grimsby," I replied; "I would do it with pleasure, but my evening is fully taken up. Personally, it appears to me that Moris Klaw's warning was a timely one. You seem to be watching the stone pretty closely."

  "Like a cat watches a mouse!" he rapped. "If any one steals the Blue Rajah to-morrow, he'll be a clever fellow."

  11

  Basinghall House, Moorgate Street, is built around a courtyard. You enter under an archway, and find offices before you, offices to right and offices to left. As a matter of fact, Basinghall House was designed for a hotel, but subsequently let off in suites of chambers. The offices of Messrs. Anderson & Brothers are on the left, as you enter, and from the window of the principal's sanctum you may look down into the courtyard.

  The room chosen for the meeting on Wednesday morning, however, was one opening off this. In common with the adjoining office—as I have said, that of the principal—it had a second door, opening on a corridor. This latter door, however, was never

  used and was always kept double-locked. Thus, the doorway from the other office was really its only means of entrance or egress. A large window offered a prospect of the courtyard.

  At a quarter to eleven on Wednesday morning, Mr. Anderson (one of the City Aldermen) entered his own private office from the corridor. He was accompanied by Sir John Carron, Mr. Gautami Chini, and Inspector Grimsby. These three had come with him from the safe deposit vaults. Mr. Anderson had possession of the case containing the diamond.

  In the office, already awaiting the party, were Sir Michael Cayley (the Lord Mayor); Mr. Morrison Dell, of the Goldsmiths & Silversmiths Company; Sir Vernon Rankin (ex-Lord Mayor); Mr. Werner, of the great engineering firm; and Mr. Anderson, junior. These constituted the Presentation Committee duly appointed by the City of London (excluding, of course, Sir John Carron, of the India Office; Mr. Chinje, representing the vendor of the jewel; and Mr. Grimsby, representing New Scotland Yard).

  "We are all present, gentlemen," said Mr. Anderson. "But before we proceed to the business which brings us here, we will enter the inner room, where we shall be quite private/'

  Accordingly the party of eight passed through the doorway; and Mr. Anderson, senior, entering last,

  CASE OF THE BLUE RAJAH 129

  relocked the door behind him. Inspector Grimsby remained alone in the private office.

  Eight oaken chairs and a small oaken table bearing a pewter inkpot, two pens, and a blotting pad represent, with a square of red carpet and a framed photograph bearing the legend: "Jagersfontein Diamond Workings, Orange Free State, 1909," an inventory of the furniture.

  The company being seated, Mr. Anderson, by the table, rose and said:

  "Gentlemen, our business this morning can be briefly dealt with. I have here"—he produced a leather case, opened it, and placed it on the table before him—"the diamond known as the Blue Rajah. Its history may be summarized thus: It appeared in the year 1680 and is supposed to have been found in the Kollur Mine, on the Kostna. It had a weight of 254I carats in the rough, but was reduced to 132 carats in the cutting. It has been successively owned by Nadir Shah, Princess de Lambelle, the Sultan Abdul Hamid, Mr. Simon Rabstein of New York, and, finally, the Gaekwar of Nizam. It has no flaws; in fact, two of the original facets were retained when the stone passed through the cutter's hands. It is rose cut and its colour is of the finest water, having the rare blue tint."

  He paused, raising the diamond from its receptacle, and holding it in his hand. The sunlight, pouring in

  through the window, struck flame-spears from the wonderful thing.

  "In fact, gentlemen/' he concluded, "the Blue Rajah is a fitting offering for the City of London to make to the Crown."

  "Hear, hear!" chorused the others; and the diamond was passed from hand to hand. The formal business of making over the stone to the Committee was then transacted. A huge check was placed in the pocket-case of Mr. Gautami Chinje, autographs were affixed to two formidable documents; and the Blue Rajah became the property of the loyal City of London.

  "You see," said Sir John Carron, holding the stone daintily between thumb and forefinger, and pointing, lecturer-fashion, "the diamond is perfectly proportioned, being a full three fifths as d
eep as it is broad."

  "Quite so," agreed Mr. Morris Dell, looking over his shoulder.

  "It is the most perfectly proportioned stone I have ever handled, Sir John," said the younger Mr. Anderson—and he stood back surveying the gem with the caressing glance of a connoisseur.

  Sir John turned and tenderly laid the diamond in its case. At which moment, exactly, arose a bloodcurdling scream in the courtyard below.

  "Good Lord!" cried Mr. Werner. "What is that?"

  There was a crowded rush to the window—those

  CASE OF THE BLUE RAJAH 131

  in the second rank peering over the heads and shoulders of those in the first. The horrid cries continued, in a choking yet shrill crescendo.

  "Ah! God in Heaven! You are killing me! No! No! Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . ."

  "It is someone in the archway," said Sir Vernon Rankin, excitedly. "Can any of you see him?"

  No one could, though all craned necks vigorously.

  "Unfortunately, the window cannot be opened," cried Mr. Anderson. "The catch has jammed in some way. I am having it removed immediately."

  The cries ceased. People were running about below, and the blue uniform of a city constable showed among the group in the archway.

  "I'll run down and see what has happened," said Mr. Chinje, stepping to the door which opened on the corridor. "Hullo! it is locked!"

  Young Mr. Anderson turned to him with a smile.

  "Both doors are locked, Mr. Chinje," he said. "For the time being we are virtually prisoners."

  "Give me the case," said his father, selecting the key of the door communicating with his private office. "There is no occasion for further delay."

  The Lord Mayor turned from the window, through which he had still been vainly peering, and stepped to the table.

  "Mr. Anderson!"

  "Yes?' said the latter, glancing back, keys in hand.

  "Have you the diamond?"

  "Certainly not!"

  "Then who has it?"

  No one had it. But the case was empty!