Death in the Tunnel

by Miles Burton

  It had taken place on Sunday the 10th. Dredger, following his usual practice, had gone to church, taking his daughter-in-law with him. On their return home they found Torrance awaiting them. He explained that he had just run down to Blackdown to see how Dredger was getting on after his illness. Pressed to stay to lunch, he had refused, saying that he had an appointment in London. The maid said later that Torrance had arrived half an hour before the return of the Dredgers from church. On her telling him where they were, he said he would wait, and she had shown him into the sitting-room. She had distinctly heard the sound of the typewriter while he was there.

  This was certainly a point in favour of Merrion’s theory. It explained how the letter to Quince might have been typed on Dredger’s machine. Arnold made a note of this, and proceeded with his inquiries.

  His next discovery was even more significant. Cautious inquiries in Maida Vale revealed the fact that Torrance did not possess a car of his own. He was in the habit of hiring one, as he required it, and driving it himself. The firm which supplied the cars was located. Reference to their books showed that Torrance had hired a car from them on Thursday the 14th. On the previous Tuesday he had rung up and given his instructions. These were that the car was to meet him at Croydon airport at half-past three on the 14th. The car had been sent, and shortly before four o’clock Torrance had taken the car over from the driver, who had returned to London by bus. Torrance had returned the car in person just before half-past seven.

  Inquiries throughout the City at last brought news of the wallet. The manager of a shop in Bishopsgate had the following story to tell. One day before Christmas a messenger had come to him from Wigland and Bunthorne, bearing a note as evidence of good faith. This note had for some reason been kept. It was typed upon the firm’s notepaper, and signed “Henry Torrance.” A selection of wallets had been given to the messenger. These had been returned later in the day, with a verbal message indicating the one chosen, and asking that the initials W.S. in gold should be placed upon it. This was done. The wallet had been delivered to the offices of Wigland and Bunthorne, and duly paid for.

  Some time during October, a gentleman, whose description might well have applied to Torrance, called at the shop. He purchased a wallet exactly similar to the one previously supplied to Wigland and Bunthorne. He gave his name as William Smith, and asked that his initials, W.S., should be placed on the wallet in gold. A couple of days later he collected the wallet and paid for it. The manager had remarked to one of his assistants that it was curious that two exactly similar wallets should have been supplied to people with the same initials.

  Arnold was elated at this discovery. Whether or not Torrance had been the purchaser of the second wallet, he had lied about the origin of the first. This, of itself, was suggestive of his guilt.

  The inspector took an early opportunity of interviewing Richard Saxonby. He learnt that Torrance was a frequent visitor to his house in the country. Richard distinctly remembered talking to him about his project of planting the bed opposite the front door with rhododendrons. He had certainly mentioned the matter to many other people as well, including Dredger.

  In the course of this conversation it transpired that the key of the back door of Richard’s house had been lost, shortly before his departure to America. The lock had not been changed, but a new key had been fitted by the local ironmonger. Its loss had been noticed in the evening, when it was time to lock up the house. Questioned by Arnold, Richard expressed a certainty that Torrance had been to the house that day.

  The letter introducing the false Malcolm Dredger to the bank was submitted to experts upon typewriters. They declared that the typing of it corresponded exactly with that of one of the specimens supplied to Arnold by Torrance. The particular machine from which the specimen had been obtained was, upon investigation, found in Torrance’s room at Shrubb Court.

  Soon after Arnold had gathered this scattered information, he met Merrion once more and passed it on to him. “I’ve learnt enough now to convince me that your theory is correct,” he said. “But I daren’t arrest Torrance on the evidence I’ve got. The case against him wouldn’t convince a jury. And I can’t find the slightest trace of the other fellow. Though I believe I’ve got a hint as to who he is.”

  “That’s something,” Merrion replied. “What have you heard?”

  “I’ve been talking to Dredger again. He bears me no grudge, and we get on capitally now. I let him talk, and on one occasion I picked up this story.

  “About two years ago, while Dredger was still manager of the Manchester office, a sudden pressure of work made it necessary for him to take on a couple of extra clerks. One of these was a young chap called Whittaker. Dredger took to him at once. He was a smart, bright lad, and said he had been an actor, but gave it up as he could not get enough engagements to keep him properly.”

  “That sounds promising,” Merrion remarked.

  “Wait a minute. Dredger was so impressed with his abilities that he kept him on, even after the rush had abated. All went well for some time. Then it was discovered that somebody had been forging Dredger’s name. It was nothing really serious, since only small sums were involved. The matter was traced to Whittaker, and the facts reported to the head office. Dredger offered to make good the deficiencies, and Sir Wilfred declined to prosecute.”

  “I wonder if he had an idea, even then, that he might some day require the services of a forger? What became of Whittaker?”

  “He was, of course, dismissed. But Dredger, who seems to be of a forgiving disposition, kept in touch with him. He came up to London, and somehow managed to earn a living for himself. Now, listen to this. Some three or four months ago Dredger was asked by Sir Wilfred if he happened to know Whittaker’s address.”

  Merrion whistled softly. “The devil he was!” he exclaimed.

  “Dredger gave it to him, of course, without troubling his head to ask what he wanted it for. Naturally, I too asked for that address, and got on to the job. I found myself at a cheap and shabby boarding-house, but the bird had flown. He hadn’t been seen since the morning of Wednesday the 13th, which you will remember, was the day that the breakdown lorry was driven from Plymouth.

  “Of course, I made inquiries, but nobody could tell me much about Whittaker. He seemed to have no definite employment, but came and went irregularly. Latterly he seemed to have money to spend. He gave out that some friends of his were going to start him in a garage near London. And it was known that he spent a day in Plymouth during October, that was when he bought the lorry.”

  “He’s your man,” said Merrion confidently. “Everything dovetails in to perfection. He could impersonate Dredger, having had the opportunity of studying him at first hand. But where he may be by this time, heaven only knows.”

  All this while, Scotland Yard was unobtrusively keeping a sharp eye on Torrance’s movements. A day or two after his conversation with Merrion, it came to Arnold’s ears that Torrance and his family proposed to spend a week in Brighton, during which period his flat in Maida Vale would be shut up. This aroused his suspicions, and the watch upon the flat was redoubled.

  On the third evening after it had been left unoccupied, one of the watchers saw a man, who seemed to resemble Torrance, enter the building. He immediately communicated with Arnold, who arrived on the scene without delay.

  It was a dark, unpleasant evening, and for some time Arnold and his companion watched the flat without incident. At last a second figure approached, that of a young man. He too entered the building. A few moments later a light appeared behind the drawn curtains of one of the rooms of the flat.

  Arnold curbed his impatience, and waited for perhaps five minutes later. Then, swiftly, he and his companion ran into the block and charged up the stairs. There was no standing upon ceremony. Arnold flung himself at the door of the flat, which burst open under the impact. There was a startled shout from within, and that led him int
o the room where the light was burning. Two men confronted him. One was Torrance. The other was a tall, well-dressed good-looking young man. On a table between them were laid several neat bundles of foreign notes.

  The inspector wasted no time in unnecessary argument. He took them both to the police-station, where he charged them both with being concerned in the forgery of Kirby’s signature to a cheque. Next day they appeared before the magistrate and were remanded in custody.

  Then began a most instructive series of identifications.

  The young man was identified by the keeper of the boarding-house, by his wife, by the servant, and independently by Dredger, as Whittaker.

  He was identified by the manager of the Celtic Garage at Plymouth, and also by the morose Bleak, as Figgis.

  Finally, he was identified by three members of the staff of Wigland and Bunthorne as Sir Wilfred Saxonby’s visitor, who had given the name of Yates.

  Arnold felt that his case was now complete. He charged both prisoners with the wilful murder of Sir Wilfred Saxonby.

  At this Torrance, who had faced the charge of forgery with confidence, completely broke down. He seemed to think that he could save his own skin by betraying his companion, who had actually fired the fatal shot. He made a full statement, very damaging to himself, since it showed that the idea of murdering Saxonby was his alone. It was only reluctantly that Whittaker had been induced to participate in it.

  His statement coincided almost exactly with Merrion’s reconstruction. But it contained one rather curious point, concerning the pistol. It had first been arranged that Saxonby should be stabbed, with a hunting-knife which he was known to possess, and which Whittaker was to steal from Mavis Court. And then occurred a curious incident, of which Torrance saw how to take full advantage.

  He had from the first been in Saxonby’s confidence regarding the scheme for revenge upon Kirby. And one day Saxonby asked him if he thought that Whittaker could be trusted on a delicate mission. Torrance had replied that he thought so, if it was made worth his while. And then Saxonby told him about Wardour’s pistol. Mrs. Wardour was nervous about it, and Saxonby himself shared her fears. You never could tell what a man like that might do in a fit of temper. If the pistol should happen to be stolen while Wardour was in France, it would be a capital thing for everybody concerned.

  So Whittaker was entrusted with the job, which he carried out successfully. He conveyed the pistol to Torrance, who showed it to Saxonby, and then retained it on the pretext that he would find a means of disposing of it. He had immediately seen the one to which could be put a pistol with the initials S.W. upon it. As for the cartridges found in the cabinet, that was explained by the fact that Torrance possessed a duplicate key.

  The trial created a great sensation. Torrance, in spite of his confession, pleaded not guilty, a course which was followed by Whittaker. The defence made a great point of the fact that the evidence was purely circumstantial. There was no proof that either of the prisoners was on or near the scene of the crime at the time the murder was committed.

  But this argument failed to convince the jury. Both prisoners were found guilty, and sentenced to death.

  They were duly hanged.

  Select Bibliography

  Miles Burton and Golden Age detective fiction

  J. Barzun and W.H. Taylor, A Catalogue of Crime (1971)

  H.R.F. Keating, Murder Must Appetize (1975)

  J. Barzun and W.H. Taylor, A Book of Prefaces to Fifty Classics of Crime Fiction, 1900–1950 (1976)

  Charles Shibuk, “John Rhode”, in Dictionary of Literary Biography, volume 77: British Mystery Writers 1920–39 (1989)

  John Cooper and B.A. Pike, Detective Fiction: the Collector’s Guide (2nd edn, 1994)

  John Cooper and B.A. Pike, Artists in Crime (1995)

  Melvyn Barnes, “John Rhode”, in St James Guide to Crime and Mystery Writers (1996)

  Curtis Evans, Masters of the “Humdrum” Mystery: Cecil John Charles Street, Freeman Wills Crofts, Alfred Walter Stewart and the British Detective Novel, 1920–61 (2012)

  Martin Edwards, The Golden Age of Murder (2015)

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