Dr. Thorndyke Omnibus Vol 4

by R. Austin Freeman

  As the superintendent stooped to verify this observation, Thorndyke produced from his pocket a small leather pouch of portable tools from which he took a screw and the universal handle. Having fitted them together, he inserted the screwdriver into the slot of the middle screw and gave a turn.

  "Ah!" said he. "This screw has been greased. Do you see how easily it turns?"

  He rotated the tool rapidly, and as the screw emerged he picked it out and exhibited it to Miller.

  "Not a trace of rust, you see, although the paint is some years old."

  He laid it down and turned to the left-hand screw, which he extracted with similar ease. As he drew it out of its hole, the moulding became visibly loose, though still supported by the mitre; but when the last screw was extracted, the length of moulding came away in his hand, showing the free front edge of the floor, or bottom-board. This Thorndyke grasped with both hands arid gave a steady pull, when the board slid forward easily, revealing a cavity about two inches deep.

  "My eye!" exclaimed Miller, as Thorndyke drew the board right out. "This puts the lid on it—or rather takes the lid off."

  He stood for a moment gazing ecstatically into the cavity, and especially at a collection of small, flat boxes that were neatly packed into it; then he grabbed up one of the boxes, and sliding back the hooked catch, raised the lid.

  The expression of half-amused astonishment with which he viewed the open box was not entirely unjustified. As the receptacle for a robber's hoard, it was, to say the least, unconventional. The interior of the box was divided by partitions into a number of little square cells; and in each cell, reposing in a nest of black or white velvet according to its colour, was an unmounted gem.

  The superintendent drew a deep breath. "Well," he exclaimed, "this knocks anything I've ever come across. Looks as if he never meant to sell the stuff at all. Just meant to keep it to gloat over. Is this what you had expected to find, Doctor? I believe it is, from what you said."

  "Yes," Thorndyke replied. "This agrees exactly with my theory of the robbery. I never supposed that he had stolen the gems for the purpose of selling them."

  "Didn't you?" said Miller. "Now, I wonder why."

  "My dear Miller," Thorndyke answered, with a smile, "the answer is before you in those cabinets which you have just examined. The man was a human magpie. He had a passion for acquiring and accumulating. He was the born, inveterate collector. Now, your half-baked collector will sell his treasures at a sufficient profit; but the real, thoroughbred collector, when once he has got hold, will never let go."

  "Well," said Miller, who had been meanwhile lifting out the boxes and verifying their contents with a supercilious glance into each, "what is one man's meat is another man's poison. I can't see myself hoarding up expensive trash like this when I could swap it for good money."

  "Nor I," said Thorndyke. "We both lack the acquisitive instinct. By the way, Miller, I think you will agree with me that all the circumstances point to Wampole's having done this single-handed?"

  "Undoubtedly," was the reply. "This is a 'one-man show,' if ever there was one."

  "And, consequently, that this 'find' puts Osmond definitely out of the picture?"

  "Yes," Miller agreed; "I think there is no denying that."

  "Then you will also agree that, although we might wish it otherwise, the whole of the circumstances connected with this robbery must be made public. That is necessary as a measure of common justice to the memory of Osmond. He was publicly accused and he must be publicly exonerated."

  "You are quite right, Doctor," Miller admitted, regretfully; "though it seems a pity, as the poor devil is dead and we've got the swag back. But, as you say, justice is justice. The innocent man ought to be cleared."

  He took out the last remaining box, and having opened it and looked in, handed it to Thorndyke and cast a final glance into the cavity.

  "Hallo!" he exclaimed, reaching into the back of the space, "here's something wrapped in paper—a key, by Jove!"

  "Ah," said Thorndyke, taking it from him and inspecting it curiously, "the key of the strong-room. I recognize it. Quite a well-made key, too. I think we ought to hand that to Woodstock at once; and perhaps it would be as well to hand him the gems, too, and get his receipt for them. We don't want property of this value—something like a hundred thousand pounds—on our hands any longer than we can help. What do you say?"

  "I say let us get rid of them at once if we can. But we must seal the boxes before we hand them over. And we must seal up these rooms until the property has been checked by Hollis. Let us put the books back in the cupboard and then, perhaps, you might go and find Woodstock while I keep guard on the treasure-trove."

  They fell to work repacking the cupboard with the albums and magazines which they had taken out; and had nearly finished when they became aware of voices below and then of hurried footsteps on the stairs. A few moments later the door was flung open and Mr. Woodstock and Mr. Hepburn strode into the room.

  "May I ask," the former demanded, glaring at Miller, "who the deuce you are and what is the meaning of this indecent invasion? The housekeeper tells me that you profess to have come here to search for missing property. What property are you searching for, and what is your authority?"

  The superintendent quietly explained who he was and exhibited his warrant.

  "Ha!" exclaimed Woodstock, with a withering glance at Thorndyke. "And I suppose you are making this ridiculous search at the suggestion of this gentleman?"

  "You are quite correct, sir," replied Miller. "The warrant was issued on information supplied by Dr. Thorndyke."

  "Ha!" was the contemptuous comment. "You obtained a warrant to search the private residence of a man of irreproachable character who has been in my employ for something like a score of years! Well, have you made your search? And if so, what have you found?"

  "We have completed the search," replied Miller, "and we have found what we believe to be the whole of the stolen property, and this key, which I understand is the key of your strong-room."

  As the superintendent made this statement, in studiously matter-of-fact tones, Mr. Woodstock's jaw fell and his eyes opened until he appeared the very picture of astonishment. Nor was his colleague, Mr. Hepburn, less amazed; and for a space of some seconds the two solicitors stood speechless looking from one another to the wooden-faced but secretly amused detective officer. Then Woodstock recovered somewhat and began to show signs of incredulity. But there was the key and there were the boxes; and it needed only a glance at the contents of the latter to put the matter beyond all question. Even Woodstock could not reject the evidence of his eyesight.

  "But," he said with a puzzled air and with new born civility, "what I cannot understand is how you came to connect Wampole with the robbery. Where did you obtain the evidence of his guilt?"

  "I obtained it," Thorndyke replied, "from the dust which I collected from your office floor."

  Mr. Woodstock frowned impatiently and shook his head. "I am afraid," he said, coldly, "you are speaking a language that I don't understand. But no doubt you are right to keep your own counsel. What do you propose to do with this property?"

  "We had proposed to hand it to you to hold pending the formal identification of the gems by Mr. Hollis."

  "Very well," said Woodstock; "but I shall want you to seal the boxes before I put them in my strong-room. I can't accept any responsibility as to the nature of the contents."

  "They shall be sealed with my seal and the superintendent's," Thorndyke replied, with a faint smile; "and we will hope that the seals will give more security than they did last time."

  This understanding having been arrived at, the boxes were gathered up and distributed among the party for conveyance to the office; and after a short halt on the landing while Miller locked the doors and sealed the keyholes, they went down the stairs, at the foot of which the tearful housekeeper was waiting. To her Mr. Woodstock gave a brief and somewhat obscure explanation of the proceedings and the sealed
doors, and then the party set forth for the office, the two solicitors leading and conversing in low tones as they went.

  Arrived at their destination, the formalities were soon disposed of. Each box was tied up with red tape, sealed on the knot and on the opening of the lid. Then, when they had all been conveyed into the strong-room and locked in, Mr. Woodstock wrote out a receipt for "eight boxes, containing real or artificial precious stones, said to be the property of James Hollis, Esq., and sealed with the seals of Dr. Thorndyke and Superintendent Miller of the C.I.D.," and handed it to the latter officer.

  "Of course," he said, "I shall communicate with Mr. Hollis at once and ask him to remove these things from my custody. Probably he will write to you concerning them; but, in any case, I shall wash my hands of them when I get his receipt—and I shall take very good care that nobody ever saddles me with portable property of this kind again."

  "A very wise resolution," said Thorndyke. "Perhaps you might point out to Mr. Hollis that the boxes ought to be opened in the presence of witnesses, one of whom, at least, should be an expert judge of precious stones. I shall write to him to-night, before I leave the town, to the same effect. We all want the restitution to be definitely proved and acknowledged."

  "That is perfectly true," Woodstock admitted; "and perhaps I had better make it a condition on which I allow him to take possession of the boxes."

  The business being now concluded, Thorndyke and the superintendent prepared to take their departure. As they were turning away, Mr. Hepburn addressed Thorndyke for the first time.

  "May I ask," he said, hesitatingly and with an air of some embarrassment, "whether the—er—the dust from our office floor or—er—any other observations of yours which led you to this surprising discovery seemed to suggest the existence of any confederate?"

  "No," Thorndyke replied, decisively. "All the evidence goes to show, very conclusively, that Wampole carried out this robbery single-handed. Of that I, personally, have no doubt; and I think the superintendent agrees with me."

  "Undoubtedly," Miller assented. "I, too, am perfectly convinced that our late lamented friend played a lone hand. You are thinking of John Osmond?"

  "Yes," Hepburn admitted, with a frown of perplexity. "I am. I am wondering what on earth can have induced him to go off in that extraordinary manner and at that particular time."

  "So am I," said Thorndyke.

  "Well, I'm afraid we shall never learn now," said Woodstock.

  "Apparently not," Thorndyke agreed; "and yet—who knows?"

  XIX. THORNDYKE CONNECTS THE LINKS

  Early in the afternoon—at forty minutes past twelve, to be exact—of a sunny day in late spring, a tall, hatchet-faced man, accompanied by a small, sprightly lady, strolled at a leisurely pace through Pump Court and presently emerged into the cloisters, where he and his companion halted and looked about them.

  "What a lovely old place it is!" the latter exclaimed, letting her eyes travel appreciatively from the porch of the Temple Church to the façade of Lamb Buildings. "Wouldn't you like to live here, Jack?"

  "I should," he replied. "It is delightful to look at whichever way you turn; and there is such a delicious atmosphere of peace and quiet."

  She laughed merrily. "Peace and quiet!" she repeated. "Peace, perfect peace. That has always been the desire of your heart, hasn't it? Oh, you old humbug! Before you had been here a month you would be howling for the sea and someone to fight." Here her glance lighted on the little wig shop, tucked away in its shady corner, and she drew him eagerly towards it "Let us have a look at these wigs," said she. "I love wigs. It is a pity they have gone out of fashion for general use. They were such a let-off for bald-headed men. Which one do you like best, Jack? I rather fancy that big one—full-bottomed, I think, is its proper description. It would suit you to a T. It looks a little vacant with no face inside it, but it would have a grand appearance with your old nose sticking out in front. You'd look like the Great Sphinx before they knocked his nose off. Don't you think you'd look rather well in it?

  "I don't know that I am particularly keen on wigs," he replied.

  "Unless they are on the green," she suggested with a roguish smile.

  He smiled at her in return, with a surprising softening of the rather rugged face, and then glanced at his watch.

  "We mustn't loiter here staring at these ridiculous wigs," said he; "or we shall be late. Come along, you little babbler."

  "Aye, aye, sir," she responded; "come along, it is," and they resumed their leisurely progress eastward across the court.

  "I wonder," he said, reflectively, "what sort of fellow Thorndyke is. Moderately human, I hope, be cause I want him to understand what I feel about all that he has done for us."

  "I shall want to kiss him," said she.

  "You had better not," he said, threateningly. "Still, short of that, I shall look to you to let him know how grateful, beyond all words, we are to him."

  "You can trust me, Jack, darling," she replied, "to make it as clear as I can. When I think of it, I feel like crying. We owe him everything. He is our fairy-godmother."

  "I don't think, Betty, dear," said Osmond with a faint grin, "that I should put it to him in exactly those words."

  "I wasn't going to, you old guffin!" she exclaimed, indignantly. "But it is what I feel. He is a magician. A touch of his magic wand changed us in a moment from a pair of miserable, hopeless wretches into the pet children of Fortune, rich in everything we desired, and with the whole world of happiness at our feet. Oh, the wonder of it! Just think, darling! While you, with that ridiculous bee in your silly old bonnet, were doing everything that you could to make yourself—and me—miserable for life, here was this dry old lawyer, whose very existence we were unaware of, quietly, methodically working away to dig us out of our own entanglements. We can never even thank him properly."

  "No. That's a fact," Osmond agreed. "And, in spite of Penfield's explanations, I can't in the least understand how he did it."

  "Mr. Penfield admits that he has only a glimmering of an idea himself; but as he has promised to extract a full explanation to-day, we can afford to bottle up our curiosity a little longer. This seems to be the house; yes, here we are: '1st Pair, Dr. John Thorndyke.'"

  She tripped up the stairs, followed by Osmond, and on the landing was confronted by the open "oak" and a closed inner door, adorned by a small but brilliantly burnished brass knocker.

  "What a dinkie little knocker!" she exclaimed; and forthwith executed upon it a most impressive flourish. Almost instantly the door was opened by a tall, dignified man who greeted the visitors with a smile of quiet geniality.

  "I have no need to ask who you are," he said, as, having saluted the lady, he shook hands with Osmond. "Your resemblance to your mother is quite remarkable."

  "Yes," replied Osmond, a little mystified, nevertheless. "I was always considered to be very like her. I should like to think that the likeness is not only a superficial one."

  Here he became aware of Mr. Penfield, who had risen from an arm-chair and was advancing, snuff-box in hand, to greet them.

  "It is very delightful to meet you both in these chambers," said he, with an old bow. "A most interesting and significant meeting. Your husband's name has often been spoken here, Mrs. Osmond, in the days when he was, to us, a mere abstraction of mystery."

  "I've no doubt it has," said Betty, regarding the old lawyer with a mischievous smile, "and I don't suppose it was spoken of in very complimentary terms. But we are both absolutely bursting with gratitude and we don't know how to put our feelings into words."

  "There is no occasion for gratitude." said Thorndyke. "It has been a mutual change of benefits. Your husband has provided us with a problem of the most thrilling interest, which we have had the satisfaction of solving, with the added pleasure of being of some service to you. We are really your debtors."

  "Very kind of you to put it in that way," said Osmond, with a faint grin. "I seem to have played a sort of Falstaffian par
t. My deficiency of wit has been the occasion of wit in others."

  "Well, Mr. Osmond," Thorndyke rejoined, with an appreciative side-glance at the smiling Betty, "you seem to have had wit enough to bring your affairs to a very happy conclusion. But let us draw up to the table. I understand that there are to be mutual explanations presently, so we had better fortify ourselves with nourishment."

  He pressed an electric bell, and, as his guests took their places at the table, the door opened silently and Polton entered with demure gravity to post himself behind Thorndyke's chair and generally to supervise the proceedings.

  Conversation was at first somewhat spasmodic and covered a good deal of mutual and curious inspection. Betty was frankly interested in her surroundings, in the homely simplicity of this queer bachelor household, in which everything seemed to be done so quietly, so smoothly, and so efficiently. But especially was she interested in her host. Of his great intellect and learning she had been readily enough convinced by Mr. Penfield's enthusiastic accounts of him; but his personality, his distinguished appearance, and his genial, pleasant manners were quite beyond her expectations. It was a pleasure to her to look at him and to reflect that the affectionate gratitude that she must have felt for him, whatever he had been like, had at least been worthily bestowed.

  "My husband and I were speaking as we came along," she said, "of the revolution in our prospects that you created, in an instant, as it seemed, in the twinkling of an eye. One moment our affairs were at a perfectly hopeless deadlock; the next, all our difficulties were smoothed out, the tangle was unravelled, and an assured and happy future lay before us. It looked like nothing short of magic; for, you see, John had done everything that he possibly could to convince all the world that he was guilty."

  "Yes," said Thorndyke, "that is how it appeared; and that is one of the mysteries which has to be cleared up presently."

  "It shall be," Osmond promised, "if utterly idiotic, wrong-headed conduct can be made intelligible to reasonable men. But still, I agree with my wife. There is something quite uncanny in the way in which you unravelled this extraordinary tangle. I am a lawyer myself—a pretty poor lawyer, I admit—and I have heard Mr. Penfield's account of the investigation, but even that has not enlightened me."