Crime at Guildford

by Freeman Wills Crofts

‘In locking the process is reversed. The handle is moved to the middle position, and this enables Sir Ralph to turn his key. He turns it, and the handle cannot be put back to the “unlocked” position, but can be moved on the “locked” one. I then turn my key, which fastens it in the “locked” position.’

  ‘I follow. Then you and Sir Ralph keep the keys?’

  ‘I keep one and our accountant has always kept the other. Unfortunately the accountant has just died and Sir Ralph is temporarily keeping his key.’

  ‘You can tell me about that later, sir. Now, when you came to open the safe this morning, did you see any sign of the lock having been tampered with?’

  ‘None whatever.’

  ‘Your keys worked all right?’

  ‘Perfectly.’

  ‘Then the thief had a pair of keys?’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘Quite so, sir.’ French hesitated for a moment. ‘Now I’m making no accusation, but at first sight all that seems to point to someone inside the concern. Tell me, Mr Norne: speaking confidentially, is there anyone whom you can bring yourself to suspect? I’m not asking you to accuse anyone; only to give me a line for investigation.’

  Norne shook his head. ‘I can answer that at once, chief-inspector. I suspect no one, and I should be greatly surprised if any of our staff were mixed up in it. What do you say, Miles?’

  The works foreman moved impulsively. ‘I agree with you, Mr Norne,’ he said earnestly. ‘I don’t know the clerical side so well, but I’m convinced the working fellows are all right.’

  French made a deprecating gesture. ‘That’s all I want, gentlemen; I was bound to ask the question. And may I take it that none of you—’ he glanced keenly from one to the other—‘can give me any suggestion which might put me on the right track? You, Mr Norne?’

  ‘I have already said not.’

  ‘Sir Ralph?’

  ‘I certainly cannot, chief-inspector.’

  ‘I have to get an answer to the point-blank question, sir. You, Mr Miles?’

  Miles could offer no help either.

  ‘Are there any absentees among the staff this morning?’

  ‘I couldn’t answer that, chief-inspector. I’ll inquire.’

  Norne picked up his desk telephone and asked for a list of absentees.

  ‘Very good,’ said French, ‘that’s the first thing I want. The second is a detailed list of what is missing. I presume you can give me that?’

  ‘I think so,’ Norne answered. ‘I should tell you about that, chief-inspector. We card index everything that goes into the safe. The index is kept in the safe, and we are most careful to see that it is kept up to date. Now, all those cards have gone too.’

  French whistled below his breath. ‘Is that not another pointer, sir, to someone who knew your methods?’

  ‘Not necessarily. It’s a common practice, carding the contents.’

  ‘Then you’ve no record of what you had?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. We should have. The index is duplicated, and we keep the duplicate in Mr Miles’ office. That enables him to use the index without getting the safe opened. Unless the thief has taken the duplicate also, it’ll be there. You didn’t notice this morning, did you, Miles?’

  Miles stood up. ‘No, sir,’ he answered. ‘The cabinet is there all right, but I didn’t open it this morning. I can see in a moment.’

  ‘Is the duplicate record kept in a safe?’

  ‘No, in a steel filing cabinet which is always kept locked.’

  French also rose. ‘I’d like to see just where and how it’s kept,’ he said. ‘Perhaps, Mr Norne, I may go with Mr Miles? Carter, I don’t want you.’

  Miles led French to the floor below and through a heavy door into one of the workshops. Men were seated at desk-like benches, bending low over their fine work. Others were at diminutive lathes and grinding and polishing machines. Two things struck French in particular: the extreme cleanliness and the excellent lighting of every part of the room.

  In one corner a small glass-walled office had been partitioned off. Miles walked across, and unlocking the door, threw it open.

  It also was scrupulously clean. In one corner stood a vertical letter file of green-painted steel; on the top of which was a similarly finished card index cabinet. To this Miles pointed.

  ‘Open it, please,’ said French.

  Miles produced his key and opened the four drawers. The index was complete.

  ‘There,’ said Norne when they had returned to his office, ‘what did I tell you? That shows, doesn’t it, that the thief was an outsider? If he’d known of its existence, he’d have taken Mr Miles’ as well.’

  ‘Not necessarily, I think, sir,’ French returned. ‘He probably took yours for his own convenience, rather than to impede the inquiry.’

  ‘I wish you’d explain all that,’ put in Sir Ralph. ‘How does the index affect the matter?’

  ‘Simply, sir, that it would let the thief immediately describe to his fences what he had to sell. I think I’m right in saying it takes a considerable time to make out a correct description of a stone?’

  ‘Absolutely. The possession of the index would save an infinity of trouble.’

  ‘Quite,’ French agreed. ‘Then with regard to impeding the inquiry. He may have forgotten that the first thing we should want would be a description of the stones for circulation, and that if he had delayed us getting that, it might have been a lot in his interest. However, whether by his oversight or not, we have the duplicate. Perhaps, sir, you could get a list made from those cards?’

  ‘Certainly,’ Norne agreed. ‘But I’m afraid it will take some time. There’s a lot to be done. I could of course divide the cards and put all our typists on to it.’

  ‘I should be obliged if you would do so, sir. And they might make three or four carbon copies. Perhaps, sir, while you’re arranging the matter I might use your telephone?’

  French rang up the Yard and got through to Sir Mortimer Ellison. He gave him a brief report of what he had learned and asked him to have the steps taken usual in such cases. It was agreed that the premises of known fences should be watched, and that the Dutch police should be advised of the robbery, so that the same precautions might be taken in Amsterdam. The records of burglary by obtaining the keys of safes were to be looked up, and the movements of all thieves who favoured that method were to be checked up. Finally French asked that the police at the cross Channel ports should be asked to keep their eyes open for possible suspects.

  There was not, of course, much chance that such vague methods would produce results. However, it was all that could be done for the moment. Further information would be sent out to the searchers as it was obtained.

  ‘Now, sir,’ French went on when Norne returned, ‘about those keys. Were there no duplicates of those held by yourself and your accountant?’

  ‘There were,’ Norne answered. ‘Each key was duplicated, and the duplicates were held, one in the strong room of the Company’s bank, and the other in that of my own private bank. Even if a miracle had happened, and the strong room of one of these banks were burgled, it is out of the question that that could happen to both.’

  ‘I shall ask you, sir, to come round with me to both banks later. Someone may have got at those keys by means of some forged instructions.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Norne, ‘but of course we can try.’

  ‘We shall have to do so. Now, sir, about your own key. Where, or rather how, do you keep it?’

  Norne put his hand in his trousers’ pocket and brought out a small ring of keys. ‘There it is,’ he said, holding one of the keys up for inspection. ‘You see, the ring is attached to this chain, and the other end passes through a special hole cut in my trousers, and is held by a short steel bar, same as watch-chains used to be held in a waistcoat buttonhole. No one could get the keys away without my feeling it, and I could not leave them in the safe or elsewhere and go away without them. I think it’s quite a safe scheme.’<
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  French thought so too when he had examined the arrangement. The chain was riveted solidly to the ring, and the bar was long and could not possibly be pulled through the hole in the trousers. French thought a skilful man might have distracted Norne’s attention and cut the chain, but this was ruled out for the simple reason that the chain had not been cut.

  ‘You’re positive that you have never allowed this chain to be unhooked from your trousers?’

  ‘Never, except at night.’

  ‘Have you ever lent the bunch to anyone to open the safe for you?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Or for any other purpose? Keys are often borrowed to try to open some lock of which the key has been lost. It’s a common trick under such circumstances to divert the owner’s attention and take a wax impression.’

  ‘No,’ said Norne firmly, ‘you may give up that idea. I never lent the keys and they were never taken off the trousers.’

  ‘Except, as you say, at night?’

  ‘Except at night, and, of course, when I changed my clothes. But I’m equally certain that no one could have got at them on these occasions. At night I put them under my pillow as well as locking the chain to a ring fixed to the bed. When I was changing I never let the keys out of my sight.’

  ‘That, sir, seems conclusive enough. And yet if the duplicates were not obtained from the bank, yours must have been got hold of, for the simple reason that there was no other key in existence from which a copy could have been made.’

  Norne made a little gesture of weariness. ‘That’s exactly what has been worrying me,’ he declared. ‘I entirely agree, but … simply it didn’t happen. The more I think of it, the less I can understand it.’

  ‘I suppose, sir, you didn’t fall asleep under circumstances which might have given someone an opportunity? What about a mild drug?’

  ‘Nothing of the kind. No, chief-inspector, I wish I could explain it, but I can’t.’

  ‘That’s all right, sir,’ French returned, ‘We’ll get it in time. Now, we’ve been speaking about your key. Let us consider the second, which you tell me was held by your accountant. You say also that he has recently died and his key is in Sir Ralph’s charge. Perhaps you would give me details of all this?’

  ‘Certainly. It’s an unhappy business, not yet entirely cleared up. The truth is that Mr Minter died suddenly yesterday, or rather on Saturday night, at my house near Guildford. He was found dead yesterday morning, and the doctor was unable to give a certificate, so the Guildford police have the matter in hand. Perhaps I’d better tell you from the beginning?’

  French looked very searchingly at the managing-director and agreed in a slightly dry tone.

  ‘I must tell you then something which is absolutely confidential,’ Norne resumed. ‘I take it that you will keep it to yourself?’

  ‘Unless it proves to be essential for the purposes of justice, certainly, sir.’

  ‘It won’t. It’s only required to explain Minter’s presence at my house, and for that you can say “business.” The fact is, however, that things have been going badly lately with our company,’ and Norne described the condition of affairs, leading on to the meeting, Minter’s arrival and death, and finally the calling in of the police.

  ‘I think I follow all that, sir,’ French said when he had finished. ‘In the meantime I shall only ask what was done about Mr Minter’s keys?’

  ‘I confess that in the upset I forgot all about them. When I remembered I thought it would be best if Sir Ralph took them over. I suggested it to him and he agreed. I got the keys from the police, who had taken charge of them, and handed them to Sir Ralph.’

  ‘Then you think they couldn’t have been tampered with before Sir Ralph got them?’

  ‘I should say it was quite impossible. But I take it that’s a matter for you rather than me.’

  ‘I shall have to look into it, of course,’ French agreed. ‘Now, sir, what about that list of today’s absentees?’

  Norne picked up a paper from his desk. ‘Here it is. It came in while you were getting the card index.’

  ‘W. E. Carfax, and R. L. Jones?’ French read inquiringly.

  ‘Carfax is a junior clerk, and Jones a stone cutter and polisher: both in my opinion absolutely beyond suspicion.’

  French nodded. ‘Thank you, sir, I think that’s about all I want at present. I should like one or two lists made out at your early convenience. One is a complete note of your staff, with a word or two of explanation as to who everybody is. Another a private note of those who might be expected to know what would be in the safe. And, of course, that vital list of what is missing.’

  Norne agreed to supply these as soon as possible and French went on. ‘I shall want next to make an examination of the safe with one or two experts. It would be a convenience if we could have this room?’

  ‘That’s easily arranged,’ Norne agreed. ‘We’ll move out now.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ French said again, then to Carter: ‘Run down and tell those fellows in the car to come up.’ Carter vanished and French went on: ‘One other point, sir, and I have done. You and Sir Ralph opened the safe and Mr Miles fingered his card index. We shall find finger-prints, I hope, on both. I want to take your prints, so as to eliminate them from those we shall follow up.’

  ‘I have no objection,’ said Norne and the others also agreed.

  A moment later Carter returned with the photographer and finger-print expert. The prints of the three men were taken and they left the room. So began the second phase of the inquiry.

  5

  Enter Routine

  French’s first care was to make an inspection of the safe.

  The large green door bore a plate with the maker’s name; ‘Russell Bros., Barking, London.’ French noted the address, as a call on Messrs Russell would be an early item on his programme. The safe projected about six inches from the wall, showing its massive hinges.

  ‘Get what prints you can before we open it,’ he directed, standing back to let Boyle, the expert, get to work.

  Boyle took his insufflator and projected clouds of fine greyish powder on to the smooth green surface. Then, partly by blowing and partly with a fine camel’s hair brush, he removed the surplus deposited. A mass of prints, smudges and irregular marks became revealed. All of them were carefully photographed by the second man, Cooper.

  Against the wall to the left of the safe and about thirty inches away stood the green painted steel letter file already mentioned. It was a couple of feet deep and, therefore, projected a foot and a half in front of the safe, and its top was just a little higher than the keyhole. It was the only piece of furniture close to the safe. French looked at it thoughtfully.

  ‘Better do that too,’ he said. ‘One of the thieves might have rested his hand on it while he worked.’

  The file was covered with impressions, all of which were duly photographed. Then while the technical men went on with the remainder of the room, French opened the safe.

  He looked curiously at the interior. It was divided into pigeon holes of various sizes, some of which were filled with books and papers, some were fitted with nests of small drawers, some contained shallow wooden trays, and some were empty.

  ‘You may do all this before we touch it,’ he told Boyle. ‘But I don’t suppose we’ll get much. These incredible fools have pawed the whole thing over. Opened every drawer, Norne said. If he’d wanted the thief to get clear away, he could scarcely have done more.’

  As Boyle set to work he expressed his opinion of Norne in suitably forcible language. The interior of the safe revealed the same multitude of marks as the outside. One thing, however, was obvious to all three men. Many of the smudges indicated gloved fingers. It seemed unlikely, therefore, that any useful result would come from all their work.

  However, that did not permit the shelving of any of it. Boyle and Cooper dealt with the marks. Then they reverted to the furniture while French returned to the safe.

  He began by
searching each drawer and shelf in the hope of finding some small object which the thief might have dropped. But he found nothing. Then he went on to the papers. These he did not examine so carefully, but he made sure that nothing was concealed among them which might prove a help.

  The safe completed, he turned his attention to the room generally. Had the thief dropped anything there or left other traces? French examined every inch of the floor, desk, chairs and other furniture, but entirely without result.

  The question of how the thief had entered the room then occupied his attention, but at this point was soon settled. According to Norne’s statement neither of the doors—from the corridor and from the anteroom—were locked at night. On the other hand the window looked out on to Ronder Lane, with a sheer drop of about a hundred feet. The window could only have been reached by means of ropes from the roof, the chances of which French thought negligible.

  The examination of the room complete, French turned to his next item, for already he had a rough programme made out in his mind. He sat down at Norne’s desk and put through a call to the superintendent of the Guildford police. Explaining what had occurred, he asked for any available particulars of the death of Minter.

  There was not much to tell. Minter had died; the doctor had refused a certificate; a post-mortem had been ordered; an inquest would be held as soon as the result was known. The case looked like one of suicide, but the superintendent gave this opinion with all reserve. He would with pleasure keep French advised of all developments.

  ‘Well, super, there’s just one thing I want,’ said French, ‘and that is the deceased’s finger-prints. Will you let me have them?’

  The super said he would have them taken at once, and French rang off.

  The question of how the thief had got hold of the keys of the safe still seemed the most promising line of investigation. French stood up.

  ‘You fellows finish what you’re at and then get back to the Yard. You might check up those prints then, Boyle. The accountant’s prints, that’s the man who died at Guildford, will be sent up as soon as possible and you might check them up too. That’ll be all then for the present.’