Death in the Tunnel

by Miles Burton

  “There was a fallacy in that argument, though I didn’t see it at the time. I puzzled my brains over the nature of that valuable object, and over the arrangements made by Saxonby that all his intimates should be out of the way that day. I got so far as to suspect that Saxonby had been up to something fishy, but I never got within a mile of the truth. It wasn’t until last Friday evening, when you told me about the forgery, and showed me the exhibits connected with it, that I saw what the object must have been.”

  “What was it?” Arnold demanded.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you off-hand. I shall have to come to it by degrees, so that you can follow my reasoning. Let’s return to Torrance, for you’ve a lot of good honest detective work before you in which he is principally concerned.

  “You know that from the first I believed that, at the time of Saxonby’s murder, his wallet had been taken and another almost exactly similar substituted for it. In order to secure this second wallet, somebody connected with the murder must have been familiar with the first. This had been given to Saxonby by his son, Richard. Obviously Richard must be questioned on this point. But that was impossible until his arrival in England the day before yesterday. Then it appeared that Richard had not bought the wallet himself, but that Torrance had procured it for him. Torrance’s account of the matter you heard yourself. Have inquiries been made among the leather-sellers of Cheapside?”

  Arnold picked up his telephone and gave a message. A few minutes later one of his subordinates appeared. This man had made personal inquiries at every shop that sold wallets in Cheapside. At none of them could he secure any information. With one accord the shopmen declared that they had never sent a selection of wallets to the offices of Wigland and Bunthorne in Shrubb Court.

  “I rather anticipated that,” said Merrion, when the subordinate had left the room. “It struck me on Saturday afternoon that Torrance was a bit taken aback by your question. As a rule, his answers are very prompt, but he wanted time to think of that one. He invented a lie to put you off the scent, of course. But I didn’t want him to think that we had discovered the interchange of the wallets, and that it was a vital point. That’s why I said it didn’t matter, and changed the subject.

  “He had his alibi all ready. He had arrived at Euston at 8.15, having left Manchester at 4.20, and so could not possibly have had any concern in the murder of Saxonby in Blackdown Tunnel soon after half-past five. He had been met at the station. But did those who met him see him actually step out of the train? I rather expect you will find that they did not.

  “Our inquiries in Manchester seemed to prove his innocence. If he had been seen by the manager there at 1.30, he could not have been at the ventilating shaft with the lorry by five o’clock. He had to go first to Richard Saxonby’s place to pick it up. The distance from thence to Manchester must be a good two hundred miles. It seemed at first that it could not have been done. I never thought of that confounded air service. It wasn’t until the poster stared me in the face that I saw how the dodge was worked.

  “I haven’t the slightest doubt that Torrance flew back to Croydon as Mr. Jones. He had a car waiting for him there, as we know. It is immaterial whether he keeps a car and chauffeur of his own. Even if he does, he certainly would not have used them on this occasion. I expect he hired the car in advance. It’s one of your jobs to make inquiries about that. I don’t think there’s any difficulty about sketching out his movements after his arrival in Croydon.

  “He arrived at the airport at 3.45, and drove away, I should imagine, by four o’clock. It is fourteen miles from the airport to Richard Saxonby’s place, and he would get there comfortably in half an hour. He put the car he was using into Richard’s garage, and took out the breakdown lorry, which A had deposited there for him. This he drove to the ventilating shaft. After his adventures there, he drove Mrs. Saxonby’s car back to the garage, and exchanged it for the one he had used previously. By then it can hardly have been much later than a quarter-past six. He had plenty of time to drive the twenty-five miles odd to London, leave the car with the people he got it from, and take a taxi to Euston, before the arrival of the 8.15. And I’ll bet you a pound to a penny that’s what he did.”

  “But what was the idea?” Arnold asked. “Why in the world should he prepare this elaborate scheme to murder his employer?”

  “Ah, that’s a long story,” Merrion replied. “You’ll have to listen to a lot of guess-work if you want me to answer that question. And unfortunately a lot of it can never be verified, for the principal actor in the drama is dead.”

  XX

  Merrion settled himself down in his chair and lighted another cigarette. “We’ve got to go a long way back to find the origin of the trouble,” he said. “Back to that unfortunate disagreement between Saxonby and Kirby. We’ve only heard one side of that story. Saxonby may have had a genuine grievance. In any case, he believed he had. He quarrelled with Kirby, and the two became enemies.

  “Now, we’ve heard enough about Saxonby from various sources to form a fairly accurate estimate of his character. He doesn’t sound to me the sort of man who would readily bury the hatchet. But in this case we are told that he made the first advances towards reconciliation, and when these were accepted became once more friendly with his enemy. To such an extent that he took to lunching with him, and even suggested some sort of business co-operation.”

  “I thought Kirby’s story sounded a bit queer, when I heard it,” said Arnold.

  “I’ve no doubt it was true, for all that. What was not true was the genuineness of the reconciliation. Saxonby pretended to be reconciled to his enemy for a definite purpose. For years he had been brooding over his grievance. And at last he decided to get his own back on Kirby by attacking his pocket.

  “His scheme was a brilliant one, if only he could find the necessary instrument with which to carry it out. He wanted a thoroughly capable forger, who was also capable of carrying out one or two simple burglaries, and I have no doubt that he was ready to pay handsomely for his services. And he found him. How, I don’t know. One can hardly advertise for a person with those particular qualifications. But I shouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Torrance had something to do with it. In any case, I fancy that he took Torrance into his confidence.

  “You’ve got to look at the matter from Saxonby’s point of view. He was, we know, a man of very strong opinions. He believed that Kirby had played him a dirty trick. Perhaps he had. Saxonby had had recourse to the usual forms of justice, and failed to obtain redress. It remained to him to pay Kirby back in his own coin. In his eyes, he was not going to commit a crime. He was going to fine Kirby twenty-five thousand pounds. As a magistrate he had probably considered the exact figure of the punishment and fixed it at that. I feel sure that had he lived to collect the money, he would not have applied it to his own purposes. In all probability, he would have handed it on to some charity.”

  Arnold could no longer restrain his incredulity. “You don’t mean to say that Sir Wilfred deliberately signed those cheques, knowing the use to which they would be put?” he exclaimed.

  “I do, indeed. It seems to me the only rational explanation of what followed. Saxonby hinted to Kirby of some scheme of business co-operation between them. He repeated these hints to the bank manager. Why? To prepare the way, so that Mr. Harrison would not be surprised when the forger presented the two cheques and the letter of introduction.

  “We have no proof of the events which followed. But we have certain indications to guide us, and these I will point out as I go along. Saxonby’s plan was simple and ingenious. It was this. To open an account which should be under his control. To pay into this a genuine cheque of his own and a forged cheque of Kirby’s, and then to draw out the bulk of the account. In this way he deprived, or hoped to deprive, Kirby of a large sum of money.

  “It was essential to his scheme that Kirby should be abroad at the time. His re-es
tablished friendship with him gave him an opportunity of learning Kirby’s movements in advance. As soon as Saxonby learnt that he would be leaving England on the 9th, he took steps to ensure that his son and daughter should be out of the way. It would never do for them to suspect anything. And he warned his associates, who were, I feel pretty sure, Torrance and the forger, to be ready. As for the forger, I have very little doubt that he was Yates, alias Figgis.

  “No doubt Saxonby, in the course of conversation, had learnt from Kirby that he was in the habit of leaving his cheque-book in his desk when he went abroad. Yates’ first job was to secure this. Saxonby had provided him with specimens of Kirby’s writing and of his signature. Also, incidentally, of his own and Dredger’s. Yates set to work and forged cheques 1 and 2, the latter on a form provided by Saxonby for the purpose.

  “You will remember that Saxonby was in the City on Tuesday the 12th. No doubt he met Yates that day. Not at his office, but in some quiet spot where they could transact their business. Saxonby inspected the cheques, signed number 2, and gave them back to Yates with the letter of introduction.

  “Now that letter is a very interesting document. It is signed by both Saxonby and his daughter. That suggests that it was typed on one of the sheets signed by Mrs. Wardour before she went abroad. The typing was in all probability done by Torrance. It is quite likely, I think, that he told Saxonby that he had spoilt one sheet, and asked for another.

  “A second point about the letter is this. The Malcolm Dredger account could only be drawn upon with two signatures. This condition fulfilled a double purpose. It was an additional suggestion of the genuineness of the account. And it was intended as a safeguard against possible treachery on the part of Yates. If only the Malcolm Dredger signature had been required, Yates might have prepared a cheque for himself, drawn it, and disappeared. But the necessity for two signatures prevented this. He could not have forged Kirby’s signature on a cheque supplied to him later than the 9th, for the bank knew that Kirby had gone abroad that day.”

  “He might have forged Sir Wilfred’s signature,” Arnold suggested.

  “He might have, if he were capable of doing so. But, if your experts are right, he had not done so previously, and he may not have cared to take the risk. I expect that Saxonby took precautions. He may have taken care that Yates should not have access to his signature. And that is why he signed cheques 2 and 3 himself. To make matters quite sure, Yates was instructed to bring the cheque-book to Saxonby as soon as he received it. That, I think, is when Saxonby signed cheque 3.

  “We now come to Thursday the 14th, and Yates visit to the office. The purpose of his call was to fill in cheque 3 and attach the Malcolm Dredger signature. The cheque was, I expect, to have been presented that day. But Yates was late. There was no time left to present it and change the notes into foreign currency. So Saxonby allows him to fill up the cheque and sign it, but not to endorse it. It is arranged that Saxonby shall come up to London the following day, that Yates shall meet him there, and endorse the cheque. Meanwhile it will be safest in Saxonby’s keeping. He folds it in half, and puts it in his wallet.

  “Yates, no doubt, has some satisfactory story to account for being late. Also, he pleads lack of funds. Will Saxonby give him something on account? Saxonby agrees, and gives him the three five-pound notes which he had drawn that morning. They part, having appointed a meeting for the following day.

  “I have already tried to give you an idea of the line which Saxonby would have taken when the forgery was discovered. He would have denied all knowledge of the affair. His case was exactly parallel with that of Kirby. If Kirby had been defrauded, so had he. Whatever the experts might say, his signatures were certainly not genuine. His cheque-book, and the sheets of paper signed by Mrs. Wardour, had been stolen from Mavis Court. Somebody must have overheard his preliminary hints to Kirby, and determined to profit by them.

  “We must give Saxonby credit for a desire to shield others as well as himself. The forgery carried with it no clue to the complicity of either Torrance or Yates. As for the use of Dredger’s name and personality, there was no great harm in that. Dredger could clear himself without difficulty. He could probably prove that he had not visited the bank on either occasion. Besides, care was taken that the false signature and handwriting should not be too accurate copies of the genuine. You would have been sorely puzzled, my friend, if you had had to unravel the plot as Saxonby intended that it should be carried out.

  “But Fate, in the shape of Torrance and Yates, intervened. They could not bear to see all this good money go to waste. No doubt they would have been rewarded, after Saxonby had recouped himself for his outlay. But why should they be content with this? If they could obtain cheque 3, and cash it for themselves, they would secure the whole of the profits, instead of a small share.

  “The idea, I expect, was Torrance’s, and the engineering of the scheme was certainly his. The first problem was how to secure the cheque. Saxonby had obviously worked out his time-table in advance. It was to be completed by Yates and presented on the 14th. But if Yates were to delay his appointment until it was too late to present the cheque that day, what would happen? Saxonby would certainly not allow such a compromising document to leave his possession. He would take it down to Mavis Court and bring it up again in the morning. And he would carry it where he always carried such things, in his wallet.

  “He must, then, be murdered while he was carrying it. The tunnel dodge was a brilliant inspiration on Torrance’s part. It provided an excellent means of disguising a murder as a suicide. But his powers of invention did not stop there. He had heard of Major Wardour’s pistol, either from Mrs. Wardour or from Saxonby. Wardour’s possession of that lethal weapon seems to have been pretty widely discussed. Yates, under Saxonby’s instructions, was to steal Kirby’s cheque-book. Why should he not, under Torrance’s, steal the pistol?”

  “What about the cartridges which I found in Sir Wilfred’s filing cabinet?” Arnold asked.

  “Torrance put them there, no doubt, as soon as he arrived at the office on Friday morning. You found the cabinet unlocked. We have only Torrance’s word for it that it was usually kept locked. It may not have been, or Torrance may have had a duplicate key. The cartridges were put there for you to find, in order to strengthen your theory of suicide.

  “But Torrance was not relying on that alone. Something might go wrong. Some point might crop up in the investigation which would arouse suspicion. It did. You were puzzled at not finding Saxonby’s ticket, a small point which Torrance had overlooked. To guard against accidents like this, a second line of defence was necessary.

  “Torrance must have realised that it already existed. Saxonby had arranged that Yates should impersonate Dredger for the purposes of the forgery. Why should he not continue to impersonate him for the purposes of the murder? In fact, I expect it was this impersonation which suggested the tunnel. Dredger lived so conveniently close!

  “We have already agreed how the murder was committed. There may be a few points connected with it which want clearing up. The letter to Quince, for instance. Torrance typed that, I have no doubt. He used for the purpose the sheet signed by Mrs Wardour which I imagine him to have said he had spoilt. Or Saxonby may have handed over to him the whole half-dozen sheets, which is just as likely. The purloining of the key of Richard Saxonby’s garage would present no difficulties. Yates, I have no doubt, is perfectly capable of opening an ordinary back-door with a skeleton key.

  “You may be pretty certain of this. We have solved the mystery of the identities of A and B. A was Yates, and B was Torrance. And when Torrance hauled Yates out of the tunnel, the latter had Saxonby’s wallet in his pocket. In the wallet was cheque 3, which Yates endorsed subsequently and cashed next morning, as soon as the bank opened. There’s rather an interesting point about that, by the way. Torrance admits that Miss Olivia telephoned him the news of her uncle’s death about half-past nine on Fr
iday morning. He did not inform the bank until eleven. Obviously to give Yates time to present the cheque and get away with the loot. Now, don’t you admit that I’ve solved your problem for you?”

  “Solved the problem!” Arnold exclaimed. “You’ve made out a very convincing theory, I’ll admit that. But you haven’t produced a particle of proof in support of it.”

  “I know that,” replied Merrion quietly. “I warned you before I started that I had no proof. You’ve got to dig away and find that for yourself. And at least I’ve suggested a dozen likely directions in which to dig. Concentrate upon Torrance. Watch him like a cat. Trace his every action for the last six months, and particularly for the last few days. If you stick to him, you’re bound to unearth something. But there’s one thing you ought to do without delay.”

  “What’s that?” Arnold asked.

  “Release the unfortunate Dredger, and restore him to his sorrowing daughter-in-law. And while you’re at it beg his pardon and ask him when and where he last saw Torrance.”

  XXI

  Arnold acted upon Merrion’s suggestion. Dredger was released, indignant, but too thankful to regain his liberty to be troublesome. And in reply to the inspector’s question he gave a significant account of his last interview with Torrance.