Dr. Thorndyke Omnibus Vol 6

by R. Austin Freeman

  "First there was a full outfit of good-class burglar’s tools, and there were one or two little packets of jewellery which we have since been able to identify from our lists as part of the swag from a burglary at a jeweller’s shop. Well, that was all to the good. But the real prize was at the bottom of the box. I wonder if you can guess what it was?"

  He looked a little anxiously at Thorndyke, and did not seem particularly gratified when the latter suggested:

  "It did not chance to be a document?"

  "That is just what it did chance to be," Miller admitted, adding: "You are a devil at guessing, Doctor. But you are quite right. It was the paper that was taken from poor Badger’s pocket in that infernal tunnel at Greenhithe. So now we have got conclusive evidence as to who murdered Badger. Of course, we shall have to look into the meaning of that cigar of yours. But we shan’t want to produce it in evidence or rely on it in any way for the purposes of the prosecution; which is as well, for it wouldn’t have been particularly convincing to the jury. But there is one more point which makes this find extraordinarily complete. It is in connection with this finger-, or rather, thumb-print. You probably know that we started, some time ago, a special collection of finger-prints—mostly single impressions—known as the ‘Scene of the Crime Series.’ They are either originals or photographs of prints that have been found at places where a crime has been committed, but where the criminal has got away without being recognized. Most of them are, naturally, the prints of known men. But there are a few prints that we cannot associate with any known criminal. We can’t put a name to them.

  "Now, in this collection we had three sets of prints which had been found on premises that had been broke into, evidently by a burglar of rather exceptional skill and ingenuity, who seemed to have worked alone, and whose technique we thought we recognized in several other jobs in which no finger-prints were found. For some reason, when we got Smith’s finger-prints from Maidstone and found that they were not in the general collection, the officer in charge omitted to try them with the ‘Scene of the Crime Series.’ But, since then he has made the comparison, and it turns out that those three sets of prints are undoubtedly Mr. Charles Dobey’s. So, now, we are able to identify him as that peculiarly talented burglar."

  "Is there any special advantage in being able to do so?" Thorndyke asked. "I take it that you will proceed on the murder charge."

  "Certainly we shall," Miller replied. "But there is the question of identification. We have got to make it quite clear that the man who got into the train at Strood was this same Charles Dobey. And then there is the question of motive. Badger was the only officer who knew Dobey by sight. He went down to Maidstone that very day for the express purpose of identifying him."

  "You are not forgetting that you cannot produce any evidence that he ever did identify him?"

  "No, I am not forgetting that. But he went down, having judged from the description that Frederick Smith was the man who had committed those various burglaries. And it now turns out that he was right. These finger-prints prove that Dobey was the man."

  "It seems to me," said I, "that the fact that the stolen paper was found in his possession will be sufficient, unless it can be rebutted, to establish the case for the prosecution, without referring to the burglaries at all. You can’t include them in the indictment—not in an indictment for murder—and if you attempt to introduce them, and if the court allows you to, you will have to prove them, which will complicate the issues."

  The Superintendent admitted the truth of this, but said that he was not going to take any chances.

  "And, at any rate," he concluded, "you must agree that we have got a remarkably complete case."

  Thorndyke did agree, and with so much emphasis that, once more, Miller looked at him with a shade of anxiety.

  "I know what you are thinking, Doctor," said he. "You are thinking that it is too good to be true."

  "Not at all," Thorndyke disclaimed with a smile, "though you must admit, Miller, that he has made things as easy for you as he could."

  "He certainly behaved rather like a fool," Miller conceded; "that is often enough the way with crooks. You don’t see any snags, do you?"

  "No," replied Thorndyke. "It looks all perfectly plain sailing. All you have to do now is to catch your hare; and he doesn’t seem to be a particularly easy hare to catch."

  "I don’t think we shall have very much difficulty about that," said Miller. "He is an easy man to describe, and we shall circulate his description all over the country; in fact, we have done so already."

  "Yes," said Thorndyke, "that was what I meant. You had him placarded at all the police-stations throughout the land, and then you find him engaged in breaking and entering in the very heart of London."

  Yet again, Miller glanced with a trace of uneasiness at Thorndyke; but he made no comment on what sounded a little like a rather cryptic hint, and shortly afterwards rose and took his departure.

  When he had gone, I was disposed to continue the discussion, but my colleague showed no enthusiasm. Yet I could see that he was reflecting profoundly on what the Superintendent had told us; which encouraged me to make a last effort.

  "After all," I said, "we can’t ignore plain fact. This story of Miller’s is difficult to reconcile with that we know—with regard to that cigar, for instance—but it is a consistent body of evidence, each item which can be proved beyond question. And the discovery of that paper in the man’s possession seems conclusive as it is possible for evidence to be. In view of your very convincing argument, it does really appear as if the solution of your problem is, x = Charles Dobey. Or is there some fallacy in Miller’s case?"

  "There is no obvious fallacy," Thorndyke replied. "The case presents, as you say, a perfectly consistent body of evidence. Taken at its face value, Miller’s case is conclusive. The real question is whether the completeness and consistency are the results of unaided chance or of an ingeniously devised plan. It is a question we are, at present, unable to decide. Perhaps, when Dobey is brought to trial, he may be able to produce some new facts that may help us to come to a conclusion."

  As this seemed to close the discussion, I knocked out my pipe and glanced at my watch.

  "Time for me to be moving on," said I, "if I am to get home within the permitted hours. I told Juliet that I should be home to-night. And, by the way, I have a message for you. I am instructed to remind you that it is quite a long time since you paid your last visit."

  "So it is," he admitted. "But we have not had many spare afternoons lately. However, to-morrow afternoon is free. Do you think it would be convenient to Juliet if I were to call and pay my respects then?"

  "I happen to know that it will, as I took the precaution to ask what afternoons were unengaged. Then I will tell her to expect you, and you had better turn tip as early as you can. She always looks for a long pow-wow when you come."

  "Yes," he replied, "she is very patient of my garrulousness. Then I will come as early as possible, and prepare myself for a special conversational effort. But it is really very gracious of her to care for the friendship of an old curmudgeon like me."

  "It is," I agreed. "Odd, too. I can’t imagine why she does."

  With this Parthian shot, and without waiting for a rejoinder, I took myself off en route for the Temple station.

  Here, perhaps, since my records of Thorndyke’s practice have contained so little reference to my own personal affairs, I should say a few words concerning my domestic habits. As the circumstances of our practice often made it desirable for me to stay late at our chambers, I had retained there the bedroom that I had occupied before my marriage; and, as these circumstances could not always be foreseen, I had arranged with my wife the simple rule that the house closed at eleven o’clock. If I was unable to get home by that time, it was to be understood that I was staying at the Temple. It may sound like a rather undomestic arrangement, but it worked quite smoothly, and it was not without its advantages. For the brief absence gave to my home
comings a certain festive quality, and helped to keep alive the romantic element in my married life. It is possible for the most devoted husbands and wives to see too much of one another.

  Thorndyke redeemed his promise handsomely on the following afternoon, for he arrived shortly after three o’clock, having, I suspect, taken an early lunch to that end; for it presently transpired that he had come straight from Scotland Yard, where he had been conferring with the experts of the Finger-print Bureau.

  "Was your pow-wow concerned with any particular case that we have in hand?" I ventured to enquire

  "No," he replied. "I went there to get some further information respecting the new system of dealing with single finger-prints that was devised by Chief Inspector Battley. I have been studying his book on his method of classification and making a few tentative trials. But I wanted to make sure that my application of the method yielded the same results as were obtained by the experts. So I went to Scotland Yard and asked them to check my results."

  "I suppose," my wife suggested, "you are still a good deal interested in finger-prints?"

  "Yes," he replied, "almost necessarily, since they so constantly crop up in evidence. But apart from, that, they are curious and interesting things in a number of ways."

  "Yes," she agreed, "interesting and curious and rather horrible—at least that is how they appear to: me. I never hear of a finger-print but my thoughts go back to that awful trial, with Reuben in the dock and poor Aunt Arabella in the witness-box giving evidence about the Thumbograph. What a dreadful time it was!"

  I am afraid I was disposed to grin at the recollection, for poor Mrs. Hornby had brought the proceedings as near to farce as is humanly possible in a criminal trial where an honourable gentleman stands indicted for a felony. But I controlled my features, and, as to Thorndyke, he was, as usual, gravely sympathetic.

  "Yes," he agreed, "it was an anxious time. I was not at all confident as to how my evidence would be received by the judge and the jury; and, if they had failed to be properly impressed, Reuben would certainly have gone to penal servitude. By the way, we sent the Thumbograph back to Mrs. Hornby after the trial. Do you happen to know what she did with it?

  "She didn’t do anything with it," Juliet replied, "because I annexed it."

  "What for?" I asked, rather foolishly, perhaps.

  "Can’t you imagine?" she demanded, flushing slightly. "It was a little sentimental of me, I suppose, but I kept it as a souvenir. And why not? It had been a terrible experience, but it was over, and it had ended happily, for me, at any rate. I have something to thank the Thumbograph for."

  "It is very nice of you to say that, Juliet," said I. "But why have you never shown it to me? I have at least as much to be thankful for, though, to tell the truth, I had overlooked the fact that it was the Thumbograph that introduced us to one another."

  "Well," said Thorndyke, "suppose you produce this disreputable little matchmaker and let us revive our memories of those stirring times. I haven’t seen a Thumbograph for years."

  "I am not surprised," said Juliet. "The report of your evidence at the trial was enough to kill the demand for them for ever. But I will go and fetch it."

  She went away and returned in a minute or two with the souvenir, which she handed to Thorndyke; a little oblong volume, bound in red cloth with the name "Thumbograph" stamped in gold on the cover. I looked at it with a new interest as Thorndyke turned over the leaves reminiscently while Juliet looked over his shoulder.

  "Doesn’t it bring all those horrors back?" said she, "and especially poor Mrs. Hornby’s evidence. Here is Miss Colley’s thumb-print, which Reuben was supposed to have smeared, and here is Aunt Arabella’s, and here is mine, and there is that wretch Walter’s."

  "Characteristically, the best impression in the book," said Thorndyke. "He was a remarkably capable scoundrel. He did everything well."

  "I wonder if we shall ever see him again?" I mused. "When he slipped away from the court, he seemed to vanish into thin air."

  "Yes," said Thorndyke; "another instance of his capability. It is not so very easy for a man who is badly wanted by the police to disappear, once and for all, as he did."

  He turned over the leaves once more until he came to the one which bore the print of Reuben Hornby’s thumb. Underneath it Reuben’s name was written in pencil and, below this, the signatures of the two witnesses, "Arabella Hornby" and "Juliet Gibson."

  "Do you remember," said Juliet, "the night Aunt Arabella and I brought the Thumbograph to your chambers? It was a thrilling experience to me."

  "And to Thorndyke too, I imagine," said I. "For it was then that he knew for certain that the Red Thumb Mark was a forgery. I saw him make the discovery, though I did not know at the time what the discovery was. Wasn’t it so, Thorndyke?"

  "It was," he replied. "And what was even more important, I thought I had found the means of convincing the court. You are quite right, Juliet; it was a memorable occasion for me."

  As he continued to turn over the leaves and scrutinize the various thumb-prints, I reverted to our previous conversation.

  "I don’t quite understand what you were doing at the Yard to-day," said I. "The classification of finger-prints is interesting enough in its way. But it doesn’t specially concern us."

  "It doesn’t concern us at all," he agreed. "But identification does. And that is where Battley’s method is valuable to us. The beauty of it is that, apart from classification for index purposes, it affords a means of rapid identification, and moreover makes it possible to express the distinctive characters of a given finger-print in a formula. Now this is an immense convenience. We often have occasion to identify a finger-print with an original or a photograph in our possession. But we can’t always carry the print or photograph about with us. But if we can express the characters of the print in a formula, we can enter that formula in our note-books, and have it ready for reference at any moment."

  "But," I objected, "a formula would hardly be sufficiently definite for a reliable identification."

  "Not, perhaps, for a final identification to swear to in evidence," he replied, "though you would be surprised at the accuracy that is possible. But that is not the purpose aimed at. The use of the method at the Bureau is principally to enable the searchers to find a given finger-print quickly among the thousands in the collections of single finger-prints. Our use of it will be to form an opinion rapidly on the identity of a print in which we happen to be interested. Remember, we don’t have to give evidence. Finger-print evidence, proper, is exclusively the province of the regular experts. We have only to an opinion for our own guidance. Come," he continued, "I have the apparatus in my bag, which is in the hall, and here is the Thumbograph with a selection of prints to operate on. Why shouldn’t we have a demonstration of the method? You will find it quite amusing."

  "It does sound rather thrilling," said Juliet; and, thus encouraged by the vote of the predominant partner, Thorndyke went out to find his bag.

  "Let me first explain the general principle of the method," said he, when he returned with a small leather bag in his hand. "Like all really efficient methods, it is essentially simple though extremely ingenious. This is the sole apparatus that is necessary."

  As he spoke, he opened the bag and took out a magnifying glass, which was mounted on three legs, the feet of which were fixed into a brass ring which enclosed a plate of glass.

  "This circular glass plate," he explained, "is the essential part of the instrument. If you look through the lens, you will see that the glass plate has engraved on it and coloured red a central dot surrounded by seven concentric circles. The first circle is three millimetres from the dot; the other circles are each two millimetres from the next. The central space is denoted by the letter A. The spaces between the other circles are denoted, successively, by the letters B, C, D, E, F, and G; and the space outside the outermost circle is denoted by H. The letters are, of course, not marked on the glass; but I have here a diagram which shows their pos
ition."

  He laid on the table a card on which were described the seven circles, each marked with its appropriate letter, and then, taking up the Thumbograph, once more turned over the leaves.

  "I think," said he, "we will select the estimable Walter’s thumb-print as the corpus vile for our experiment. It is the best print in the book, and it has the further advantage of being a peculiarly distinctive type with a rather striking pattern. It has the general character of a whorl with a tendency towards that of a twinned loop—that is, a pair of loops folded into each other with the convexities turned in opposite directions. But we will call it a whorl, and treat it as such, merely noting the alternative character. You will see that the pattern is formed by a number of black lines, which are the impressions of the ridges on the thumb. In this print the centre of the patterns or ‘core,’ consists of a pair of little loops, from which the lines meander away in a rather irregular spiral. At a little distance from the core, these lines meet another set of lines at an angle, forming a Y-shaped figure known as a ‘delta.’ There will be another delta on the opposite side of the thumb, but it is too far round, to appear in this print. It would be visible in a ‘rolled impression’—that is, a print made by rolling the inked thumb over on a card or paper; but in this print, made by a single contact, only the right delta appears.

  "And now as to the use of the instrument. We lay the glass plate on the print, so that the dot just touches the top of the upper loop. And now you see the masterly simplicity of the method. For, since a circle has no right or wrong way up, when once you have set the dot in the appointed place, all the other lines must be correctly placed. Without any further adjustment, they show with absolute accuracy the distance from the centre of any part of the pattern. And this distance can be expressed, quite unmistakably, by a single letter."