The question was hardly necessary, for Polton had already extracted from some secret and illegal pocket a good-sized ratchet screwdriver with a hollow handle containing several spare blades of different sizes. Having taken a glance at the screws, he fitted in a blade of the appropriate size, and then, as we drew out the coffin to the front of the shelf, he fell to work on it.
"The last operator wasn’t much of a hand with the screwdriver," he grumbled. "He’s scraped away half the slots."
However, by bearing heavily on the tool, he got the screws started, and, as they came out one by one and were put tidily on a clear space on the shelf, we brought the coffin a stage farther forward to bring the next one within reach. When the last of them had been extracted, the "case-opener" was produced, and its beak inserted under the lid. A slight tweak raised the latter, and it was easily lifted off.
As Polton drew it aside and exposed the interior of the coffin, I uttered a cry of astonishment.
"Why, there are two bodies!" I exclaimed.
"Skeletons, I should call ‘em, sir," Polton corrected, disparagingly.
"Yes," Thorndyke agreed; "there would hardly have been room for two recent corpses. But they are not so badly preserved, considering that they have been here for close on a century. Now, let us get the other one open, and don’t damage the coffin more than you are obliged to, Polton."
"Am I right," I asked, "in supposing that you expected to find two bodies in that coffin?"
"Yes," he replied. "That was what the circumstances seemed to suggest."
"And what do you expect to find in the other one?"
"That question, Jervis," said he, "seems to be answered by the one that we have just opened. Why should a man take a body out of one coffin and cram it into another which is already occupied?"
The answer was certainly pretty obvious. But the discussion came to a premature end: for, in spite of Polton’s care, the damaged lid came loose before all the screws had been extracted. As he lifted it off, I threw the light of my lamp into the cavity; and though it disclosed nothing that I had not expected, I stood for a while, silently gazing into the coffin with horrified fascination.
The bright glare of the lamp fell on the figure of a grey-haired man, fully clothed, even to a crumpled soft felt hat. His age, so far as it was possible to judge, appeared to be from fifty to sixty, and his neat worsted clothes and the quality of his linen suggested a man of some means, reasonably careful of his appearance. As to how he had died there was nothing to show, save for the sinister suggestion of a smear of blood on one sleeve. I was just turning to Thorndyke to ask a question when the deathly silence was broken by five sharp taps from above, which reverberated through the vault with quite startling distinctness.
"There is Woodburn," said Thorndyke. "Lay the covers on the coffins."
With this he picked up his lamp and went out into the main vault. Following him, I saw him pick his way carefully up the steep and narrow steps until he reached the little platform at the top. There he paused, and threw his light on the under-side of the covering slab. Then, grasping what appeared to be some sort of handle, he gave a pull, first downward and then sideways. Immediately the heavy slab turned on its pivot and runners with a dull grinding sound and a stream of brilliant daylight poured down into the gruesome interior. A moment or two later it was partially obscured as Miller and Woodburn leaned over the edge and peered down curiously into the vault.
"Is it necessary for us to come down again?" Miller enquired. "The air is a good deal fresher up here."
"I shall want Mr. Woodburn to come down," said Thorndyke. "We have been making some investigations, and I should like to have his opinion on something that we have discovered. Probably you will be interested too."
He was—very decidedly. At the mention of a discovery, his long legs swung, one after the other, over the edge of the sarcophagus, and he followed Thorndyke down the steps as rapidly as was consistent with the necessary caution. Close behind him came Woodburn, all agog with curiosity.
"It isn’t so bad here," he remarked, "now that we have got that cover open. We had better keep it open, and let a little air in."
"Then," said Thorndyke, "Polton had better go up and keep a look-out. We don’t want any other observers. You saw how the slab was moved, Polton. If anyone comes in sight, shut it at once."
I could see that this duty was not at all acceptable to our ingenious coadjutor, who evidently foresaw dramatic developments in the immediate future. Nevertheless, he climbed the steps and thrust his head out of the opening. But I noticed that one eye and both ears were kept focused on the happenings down below.
"Now, Doctor," said Miller, "what is this discovery that you have made?"
"I will show you," said Thorndyke, leading the way into the side chamber. "But I may explain that we found that two of the coffins had been moved, and moved quite recently. But they had not only been moved: they had been opened and reclosed. On observing that, we thought it desirable to open them and ascertain why they had been opened. We did so, with this result: we found in one coffin two bodies—two quite ancient bodies; mere skeletons, in fact."
"Then," said Woodburn, "you may take it that they are strangers to me, and they are not any concern of mine. So we will take them as read."
"Very well," said Thorndyke. "I will not trouble you with that coffin. But I must ask you to look at the other. This is the one."
He drew the coffin a little farther to the front of the shelf and lifted off the lid, throwing the light of his lamp into the cavity. Mr. Woodburn approached with very evident reluctance, holding his handkerchief to his face, and cast a glance of mingled disgust and apprehension towards the coffin. Suddenly he stopped and then started forward with a half-articulate cry. For a moment he stood staring with incredulous horror. Then, in a voice tremulous with emotion, he exclaimed:
"Great God! It’s Mr. Toke!"
For some moments there was a dead silence. Then Thorndyke replaced the coffin lid, and we went back to the main vault. And still, for a while, no one spoke. On Woodburn this revelation had fallen like a thunderbolt, while Miller, whose theory of the criminal doings at the Manor House was suddenly shattered, was wrapped in the most profound cogitation. At length the latter broke the silence.
"How long do you think Mr. Toke has been in that coffin, Doctor?" he asked.
"I should say," replied Thorndyke, "that he has been there ever since the day on which he was supposed to have gone abroad."
"Yes," said Woodburn, "I think you are right. I have had all along a lurking suspicion that he never really went abroad; that something happened to him on that last day. I didn’t at all like the garage man’s story of that ginger-haired fellow with the red nose."
"Eh!" exclaimed Miller, all agog in a moment. "What story was that?"
Woodburn gave him a brief summary of the incident of the returned car and the "Ginger Lushington," to which he listened with profound attention, and on which he cogitated for a while when Woodburn had finished. Suddenly he turned to Thorndyke, and regarded him eagerly and almost fiercely.
"Now, look here, Doctor," said he, "you have got to tell us what all this means. It is no use for you to try to put us off. You hold all the clues and you know all about it. You have followed this case as if you were running along rails. You knew that someone had been here. I believe you knew about those sovereigns, and you went for that secret door as if you knew exactly where to look for it. And then you came down into this vault and you went straight for that coffin. I have no doubt that you knew Mr. Toke was there. Now, Doctor, I ask you to tell me who killed Mr. Toke, and who was that red-nosed man."
"You are asking me," replied Thorndyke, "to make a statement, whereas I can only offer an opinion. But you can have that opinion for what it is worth; and I may say that I think it is worth a good deal, as it is based on a mass of evidence. I should say that the red-nosed man at the garage and the murderer of Mr. Toke are one and the same person; and that person is na
med Walter Hornby."
"What!" exclaimed Miller. "The villain who murdered Badger!"
"That is what I believe," said Thorndyke. "But I hope that we shall have the opportunity to settle the question. At any rate, we may fairly take it that the person who has been frequenting these premises is the person who murdered Mr. Toke."
"And you expect that person to come here to-night?"
"It is only a probability," replied Thorndyke. "You know our reasons for expecting him. It may be to night, or he may choose some other night. But there is very little doubt that he will come sooner or later to finish up the gold that is left, and take away those sovereigns. But it is quite possible that the next visit will be meant to be the last."
"It will be the last," Miller remarked, grimly. "If I stay here till Doomsday, I am going to have him."
There was a brief pause. Then Woodburn asked:
"Where and how do you suppose the murder was committed?"
"I should say," answered Thorndyke, "that the deed was done at the top of those steps. There is what looks very much like a blood-stain on the brick there. As to the circumstances, I should say that they were roughly these: I take it that Mr. Toke, when he took the car out of the garage, had for some reason to come down here, unexpectedly, to fetch something from, or deposit something in, the gallery; and he had reasons for not wishing to enter the house and break the seals. I think that the murderer must have come to know of this intended visit, and have come on in advance and waited for him in hiding somewhere; that he saw Toke arrive, followed him into the churchyard, and saw him enter the tomb by the secret opening. I suspect that he waited for him to come out, and then murdered him as he was emerging from the tomb. Then he explored the vault, hurriedly broke open a coffin, and, having disposed of the body, made an inspection of the premises, the valuable contents of which may have been known to him. At any rate, he would have found the gold, and known then that it would be worthwhile to come back to take it away. I should think that the sovereigns were probably an afterthought, suggested by the quantity of gold bullion, which would have been rather unsafe to dispose of in the regular way. Moreover, if I am right as to the identity of the man, we must remember that he was an assayist by profession, and would have an expert knowledge of the methods of dealing with gold. But, as to that, we shall know more when we have seen him. And now we may as well relieve Polton and get back to the house. I don’t think we have left any traces of our visit down here, and we must be careful to leave none in the churchyard as we go out."
"No," Miller agreed fervently, "for the Lord’s sake don’t let us spoil our chances by giving him any sort of warning. At present, we seem to have him in the hollow of our hand. It would take ten years off my life if we should let him slip."
"I don’t think you need have any misgivings, Miller," said Thorndyke. "He is bound to come back; and we are agreed that we are willing to wait for him to come in his own time. We can only hope that he will not keep us waiting too long."
XVII. THE VIGIL
We made our way out of the vault, one by one, creeping cautiously up the narrow brick steps, and climbing over the side of the tomb into the green and sunny church yard. Woodburn was the first to emerge, and, as he stepped down on to the grass, he drew a deep breath.
"Lord," he exclaimed, "it is good to be back in the world of living men and to breathe the fresh air. That was a horrible experience!"
I sympathized with him, though, naturally, my professional training had made me less sensitive to merely physical unpleasantness. For I realized that, whatever misgivings he might have had respecting his client, it must have been a shocking experience to be brought suddenly, without warning, face to face with his murdered corpse. Even Miller was not unaffected by the tragedy that had been so abruptly sprung upon him.
Thorndyke was the last to come up, having lingered to take a final look round and make sure that no tell-tale evidence of our visit had been left to arouse the suspicions of the hoped-for visitor. As soon as he had stepped out, he seized the displaced slab, and, with a vigorous pull, swung it round into its normal position.
"We may as well make sure, before we go," said he, "that we all understand how this arrangement works from the outside. It seems to be quite a simple device. The slab rocks slightly on its pivot. To release the inside catch, the higher end of the slab has to be pressed down. This raises the other end and so frees the catch. You see that, at present, the slab is quite immovable; but when I throw my weight on this end, I am able to swing it round without difficulty."
As he spoke, he demonstrated the mechanism; and when Miller had satisfied himself by actual trial that he had fully grasped the method, we took our way out of the churchyard and walked across to the house. There we were admitted by Mrs. Gibbins in person, who informed us that two officers had arrived, and, further, that lunch would be served in five minutes, and, further more, that separate arrangements had been made for Mr. Polton and the two officers.
At the latter announcement Miller smiled grimly. "Artful old puss," was his comment, when she had gone. "Made her arrangements to have Mr. Polton all to herself, and get the latest news. But it doesn’t matter. She’s an interested party, and it will save me the trouble of giving my men the particulars."
Nevertheless, he introduced us to the two officers, and gave them a few instructions, and then we retired to remove, as far as was possible, the traces of our subterranean activities, before sitting down to lunch.
It was a very leisurely meal; almost intentionally so; for there was little more to do in the way of preparation, and a long interval before the next phase of our adventure could be expected to begin. But there was plenty of material for discussion, especially as Woodburn had to be put in possession of the numerous and complicated antecedents of the case. Then the details of the procedure to be adopted in the actual capture had to be considered, and the course that would have to be taken in the event of the quarry failing to appear. As to the former, Miller showed a disposition to simplify the proceedings by making the arrest in the churchyard.
"You see," he explained, "there’s a good deal to be said for catching your hare while you have the chance. If we collar him as soon as he has gone up to the tomb, we shall make sure of him; whereas, if we let him go down, he may disappear into some underground passage that we know nothing about."
But Thorndyke shook his head very decidedly. "No, Miller," said he. "That won’t do. It is a bad plan in two ways. In the first place, the churchyard is not secure enough. He would have quite a fair chance of escape in that open space, with its various obstructions to dodge among, and possibly a car waiting close by. In the second place, he ought to be arrested, for evidential reasons, in the gallery. Remember that we have got to identify him with the coiner who has used Mr. Toke’s gold, and we are going to charge him with the murder of Mr. Toke. Now, if you arrest him in the churchyard, you have got those charges to prove. You will infer, reasonably enough, that he has come into the churchyard for the purpose of entering the house by way of the secret passage. But in a criminal trial, on a capital charge, evidence is sifted very finely. The defence would deny the intention, and you would have to prove it. But if he is taken actually in the gallery, that fact is evidence in itself of his connection with the coining, and, by fair inference, with the murder of Mr. Toke."
Miller admitted the force of this contention. "But, still," he urged, "we are not dealing with an unknown man. You say you can prove his identity, which connects him with a previous crime, and you have got substantial evidence in regard to the murder of poor Badger."
Thorndyke, however, was firm. "It won’t do, Miller," said he. "We shall want every particle of evidence that we can get. At present, all that we have is circumstantial. But, with all respect to the dictum of a certain learned judge, circumstantial evidence is much less satisfactory to a jury than that which is more or less direct."
"Very well," said Miller; "you know more about court work than I do. But what do you sugg
est—I mean, about planting my men?"
"The best plan, I think," replied Thorndyke, "would be to instruct them to hide behind the yew tree—it must be pitch-dark there at night—and to wait for the man to arrive. They should let him go down into the tomb, and, as soon as he has disappeared, they should take up their stations at the side of the tomb nearest the steps. There they would have absolute control of him if he should come up again, as he would be standing on the steps."
"You speak of ‘him,’" Miller remarked. "Supposing there should be a gang?"
"That is very unlikely," replied Thorndyke, "but, even so, there are four of us, without counting Polton. I think we can take our chance. Are you and your men armed?"
"No," replied Miller; "we don’t much favour firearms in the force. We’ve brought two or three sets of handcuffs, and, for the rest, we’ve got a pretty serviceable outfit of fists."
"Well, I took the precaution to bring four automatics," said Thorndyke. "You had better have one. A man who has two murders to his account is not likely to boggle at one or two more."
Eventually, the Superintendent accepted Thorndyke’s suggestions, and, when we had finished lunch, the final preparations were made. Thorndyke showed the two officers the secret door, and demonstrated the working of the catch from outside and from within, and then conducted them down the stair-way and through the vault to the opening, at which Polton had been sent to keep a look-out. When they had mastered the working of the movable slab, they were shown the spot behind the yew tree where they were to keep watch later on. Then the whole party returned to the house by way of the vault—to avoid exhibiting themselves to any chance observers in the village.
When the officers had been dismissed to repose and smoke their pipes in Mr. Toke’s study, Thorndyke produced a six-inch ordnance map of the district, and invited the attention of Woodbury and the Superintendent to a narrow lane that appeared to run close beside the churchyard, and, presently to open into a by-road at no great distance.
Dr. Thorndyke Omnibus Vol 6 Page 25
