The Red Thumb Mark

by R. Austin Freeman

  CHAPTER XIV

  A STARTLING DISCOVERY

  The morning of the trial, so long looked forward to, had at lengtharrived, and the train of events which it has been my business tochronicle in this narrative was now fast drawing to an end. To me thoseevents had been in many ways of the deepest moment. Not only had theytransported me from a life of monotonous drudgery into one charged withnovelty and dramatic interest; not only had they introduced me to arenascence of scientific culture and revived under new conditions myintimacy with the comrade of my student days; but, far more momentousthan any of these, they had given me the vision--all too fleeting--ofhappiness untold, with the reality of sorrow and bitter regret thatpromised to be all too enduring.

  Whence it happened that on this morning my thoughts were tinged with acertain greyness. A chapter in my life that had been both bitter andsweet was closing, and already I saw myself once more an Ishmaelite anda wanderer among strangers.

  This rather egotistical frame of mind, however, was soon dispelled whenI encountered Polton, for the little man was in a veritable twitter ofexcitement at the prospect of witnessing the clearing up of themysteries that had so severely tried his curiosity; and even Thorndyke,beneath his habitual calm, showed a trace of expectancy and pleasurableanticipation.

  "I have taken the liberty of making certain little arrangements on yourbehalf," he said, as we sat at breakfast, "of which I hope you will notdisapprove. I have written to Mrs. Hornby, who is one of the witnesses,to say that you will meet her at Mr. Lawley's office and escort her andMiss Gibson to the court. Walter Hornby may be with them, and, if he is,you had better leave him, if possible, to come on with Lawley."

  "You will not come to the office, then?"

  "No. I shall go straight to the court with Anstey. Besides, I amexpecting Superintendent Miller from Scotland Yard, who will probablywalk down with us."

  "I am glad to hear that," I said; "for I have been rather uneasy at thethought of your mixing in the crowd without some kind of protection."

  "Well, you see that I am taking precautions against the assaults of thetoo-ingenious X, and, to tell the truth--and also to commit a flagrantbull--I should never forgive myself if I allowed him to kill me before Ihad completed Reuben Hornby's defence. Ah, here is Polton--that man ison wires this morning; he has been wandering in and out of the roomsever since he came, like a cat in a new house."

  "It's quite true, sir," said Polton, smiling and unabashed, "so it's nouse denying it. I have come to ask what we are going to take with us tothe court."

  "You will find a box and a portfolio on the table in my room," repliedThorndyke. "We had better also take a microscope and the micrometers,though we are not likely to want them; that is all, I think."

  "A box and a portfolio," repeated Polton in a speculative tone. "Yes,sir, I will take them with me." He opened the door and was about topass out, when, perceiving a visitor ascending the stairs, he turnedback.

  "Here's Mr. Miller, from Scotland Yard, sir; shall I show him in?"

  "Yes, do." He rose from his chair as a tall, military-looking manentered the room and saluted, casting, at the same time, an inquiringglance in my direction.

  "Good morning, Doctor," he said briskly. "I got your letter and couldn'tmake such of it, but I have brought down a couple of plain-clothes menand a uniform man, as you suggested. I understand you want a housewatched?"

  "Yes, and a man, too. I will give you the particulars presently--thatis, if you think you can agree to my conditions."

  "That I act entirely on my own account and make no communication toanybody? Well, of course, I would rather you gave me all the facts andlet me proceed in the regular way; but if you make conditions I have nochoice but to accept them, seeing that you hold the cards."

  Perceiving that the matter in hand was of a confidential nature, Ithought it best to take my departure, which I accordingly did, as soonas I had ascertained that it wanted yet half-an-hour to the time atwhich Mrs. Hornby and Juliet were due at the lawyer's office.

  Mr. Lawley received me with stiffness that bordered on hostility. He wasevidently deeply offended at the subordinate part that he had beencompelled to play in the case, and was at no great pains to conceal thefact.

  "I am informed," said he, in a frosty tone, when I had explained mymission, "that Mrs. Hornby and Miss Gibson are to meet you here. Thearrangement is none of my making; none of the arrangements in this caseare of my making. I have been treated throughout with a lack of ceremonyand confidence that is positively scandalous. Even now, I--thesolicitor for the defence--am completely in the dark as to what defenceis contemplated, though I fully expect to be involved in some ridiculousfiasco. I only trust that I may never again be associated with any ofyour hybrid practitioners. _Ne sutor ultra crepidam_, sir, is anexcellent motto; let the medical cobbler stick to his medical last."

  "It remains to be seen what kind of boot he can turn out on the legallast," I retorted.

  "That is so," he rejoined; "but I hear Mrs. Hornby's voice in the outeroffice, and as neither you nor I have any time to waste in idle talk, Isuggest that you make your way to the court without delay. I wish yougood morning!"

  Acting on this very plain hint, I retired to the clerks' office, where Ifound Mrs. Hornby and Juliet, the former undisguisedly tearful andterrified, and the latter calm, though pale and agitated.

  "We had better start at once," I said, when we had exchanged greetings."Shall we take a cab, or walk?"

  "I think we will walk, if you don't mind," said Juliet. "Mrs. Hornbywants to have a few words with you before we go into court. You see, sheis one of the witnesses, and she is terrified lest she should saysomething damaging to Reuben."

  "By whom was the subpoena served?" I asked.

  "Mr. Lawley sent it," replied Mrs. Hornby, "and I went to see him aboutit the very next day, but he wouldn't tell me anything--he didn't seemto know what I was wanted for, and he wasn't at all nice--not at all."

  "I expect your evidence will relate to the 'Thumbograph,'" I said."There is really nothing else in connection with the case that you haveany knowledge of."

  "That is just what Walter said," exclaimed Mrs. Hornby. "I went to hisrooms to talk the matter over with him. He is very upset about the wholeaffair, and I am afraid he thinks very badly of poor Reuben's prospects.I only trust he may be wrong! Oh dear! What a dreadful thing it is, tobe sure!" Here the poor lady halted to mop her eyes elaborately, to thesurprise and manifest scorn of a passing errand boy.

  "He was very thoughtful and sympathetic--Walter, I mean, you know,"pursued Mrs. Hornby, "and most helpful. He asked me all I knew aboutthat horrid little book, and took down my answers in writing. Then hewrote out the questions I was likely to be asked, with my answers, sothat I could read them over and get them well into my head. Wasn't itgood of him! And I made him print them with his machine so that I couldread them without my glasses, and he did it beautifully. I have thepaper in my pocket now."

  "I didn't know Mr. Walter went in for printing," I said. "Has he aregular printing press?"

  "It isn't a printing press exactly," replied Mrs. Hornby; "it is a smallthing with a lot of round keys that you press down--Dickensblerfer, Ithink it is called--ridiculous name, isn't it? Walter bought it from oneof his literary friends about a week ago; but he is getting quite cleverwith it already, though he does make a few mistakes still, as you cansee." She halted again, and began to search for the opening of apocket which was hidden away in some occult recess of her clothing, allunconscious of the effect that her explanation had produced on me. For,instantly, as she spoke, there flashed into my mind one of the pointsthat Thorndyke had given me for the identification of the mysterious X."He has probably purchased, quite recently, a second-handBlickensderfer, fitted with a literary typewheel." The coincidence wasstriking and even startling, though a moment's reflection convinced methat it was nothing more than a coincidence; for there must be hundredsof second-hand "Blicks" on the market, and, as to Walter Hornby, hecertainly c
ould have no quarrel with Thorndyke, but would rather beinterested in his preservation on Reuben's account.

  These thoughts passed through my mind so rapidly that by the time Mrs.Hornby had run her pocket to earth I had quite recovered from themomentary shock.

  "Ah! here it is," she exclaimed triumphantly, producing an obese Moroccopurse. "I put it in here for safety, knowing how liable one is to getone's pocket picked in these crowded London streets." She opened thebulky receptacle and drew it out after the manner of a concertina,exhibiting multitudinous partitions, all stuffed with pieces of paper,coils of tape and sewing silk, buttons, samples of dress materials andmiscellaneous rubbish, mingled indiscriminately with gold, silver, andcopper coins.

  "Now just run your eye through that, Dr. Jervis," she said, handing me afolded paper, "and give me your advice on my answers."

  I opened the paper and read: "The Committee of the Society for theProtection of Paralysed Idiots, in submitting this--"

  "Oh! that isn't it; I have given you the wrong paper. How silly of me!That is the appeal of--you remember, Juliet, dear, that troublesomeperson--I had, really, to be quite rude, you know, Dr. Jervis; I had totell him that charity begins at home, although, thank Heaven! none of usare paralysed, but we must consider our own, mustn't we? And then--"

  "Do you think this is the one, dear?" interposed Juliet, in whose palecheek the ghost of a dimple had appeared. "It looks cleaner than most ofthe others."

  She selected a folded paper from the purse which Mrs. Hornby was holdingwith both hands extended to its utmost, as though she were about toproduce a burst of music, and, opening it, glanced at its contents.

  "Yes, this is your evidence," she said, and passed the paper to me.

  I took the document from her hand and, in spite of the conclusion atwhich I had arrived, examined it with eager curiosity. And at the veryfirst glance I felt my head swim and my heart throb violently. For thepaper was headed: "Evidence respecting the Thumbograph," and in everyone of the five small "e's" that occurred in that sentence I could seeplainly by the strong out-door light a small break or interval in thesummit of the loop.

  I was thunderstruck.

  One coincidence was quite possible and even probable; but the twotogether, and the second one of so remarkable a character, were beyondall reasonable limits of probability. The identification did not seem toadmit of a doubt, and yet--

  "Our legal adviser appears to be somewhat preoccupied," remarked Juliet,with something of her old gaiety of manner; and, in fact, though I heldthe paper in my hand, my gaze was fixed unmeaningly on an adjacentlamp-post. As she spoke, I pulled myself together, and, scanning thepaper hastily, was fortunate enough to find in the first paragraphmatter requiring comment.

  "I observe, Mrs. Hornby," I said, "that in answer to the first question,'Whence did you obtain the "Thumbograph"?' you say, 'I do not rememberclearly; I think I must have bought it at a railway bookstall.' Now Iunderstood that it was brought home and given to you by Walter himself."

  "That was what I thought," replied Mrs. Hornby, "but Walter tells methat it was not so, and, of course, he would remember better than Ishould."

  "But, my dear aunt, I am sure he gave it to you," interposed Juliet."Don't you remember? It was the night the Colleys came to dinner, and wewere so hard pressed to find amusement for them, when Walter came in andproduced the 'Thumbograph.'"

  "Yes, I remember quite well now," said Mrs. Hornby. "How fortunate thatyou reminded me. We must alter that answer at once."

  "If I were you, Mrs. Hornby," I said, "I would disregard this paperaltogether. It will only confuse you and get you into difficulties.Answer the questions that are put, as well as you can, and if you don'tremember, say so."

  "Yes, that will be much the wisest plan," said Juliet. "Let Dr. Jervistake charge of the paper and rely on your own memory." "Very well, mydear," replied Mrs. Hornby, "I will do what you think best, and you cankeep the paper, Dr. Jervis, or throw it away."

  I slipped the document into my pocket without remark, and we proceededon our way, Mrs. Hornby babbling inconsequently, with occasionaloutbursts of emotion, and Juliet silent and abstracted. I struggled toconcentrate my attention on the elder lady's conversation, but mythoughts continually reverted to the paper in my pocket, and thestartling solution that it seemed to offer of the mystery of thepoisoned cigar.

  Could it be that Walter Hornby was in reality the miscreant X? The thingseemed incredible, for, hitherto, no shadow of suspicion had appeared tofall on him. And yet there was no denying that his description talliedin a very remarkable manner with that of the hypothetical X. He was aman of some means and social position; he was a man of considerableknowledge and mechanical skill, though as to his ingenuity I could notjudge. He had recently bought a second-hand Blickensderfer whichprobably had a literary typewheel, since it was purchased from aliterary man; and that machine showed the characteristic mark on thesmall "e." The two remaining points, indeed, were not so clear.Obviously I could form no opinion as to whether or not Thorndyke heldany exclusive information concerning him, and, with reference to hisknowledge of my friend's habits, I was at first inclined to be doubtfuluntil I suddenly recalled, with a pang of remorse and self-accusation,the various details that I had communicated to Juliet and that she mighteasily, in all innocence, have handed on to Walter. I had, for instance,told her of Thorndyke's preference for the Trichinopoly cheroot, and ofthis she might very naturally have spoken to Walter, who possessed asupply of them. Again, with regard to the time of our arrival at King'sCross, I had informed her of this in a letter which was in no wayconfidential, and again there was no reason why the information shouldnot have been passed on to Walter, who was to have been one of the partyat the family dinner. The coincidence seemed complete enough, in alltruth; yet it was incredible that Reuben's cousin could be soblackhearted a villain or could have any motive for these dastardlycrimes.

  Suddenly a new idea struck me. Mrs Hornby had obtained access to thistypewriting machine; and if Mrs. Hornby could do so, why not JohnHornby? The description would, for the most part, fit the elder man aswell as the younger, though I had no evidence of his possessing anyspecial mechanical skill; but my suspicions had already fastened uponhim, and I remembered that Thorndyke had by no means rejected my theorywhich connected him with the crime.

  At this point, my reflections were broken in upon by Mrs. Hornby, whograsped my arm and uttered a deep groan. We had reached the corner ofthe Old Bailey, and before us were the frowning walls of Newgate. Withinthose walls, I knew--though I did not mention the fact--that ReubenHornby was confined with the other prisoners who were awaiting theirtrial; and a glance at the massive masonry, stained to a dingy grey bythe grime of the city, put an end to my speculations and brought me backto the drama that was so nearly approaching its climax.

  Down the old thoroughfare, crowded with so many memories of hideoustragedy; by the side of the gloomy prison; past the debtors' door withits forbidding spiked wicket; past the gallows gate with its festoonsof fetters; we walked in silence until we reached the entrance to theSessions House.

  Here I was not a little relieved to find Thorndyke on the look-out forus, for Mrs. Hornby, in spite of really heroic efforts to control heremotion, was in a state of impending hysteria, while Juliet, thoughoutwardly calm and composed, showed by the waxen pallor of her cheeksand a certain wildness of her eyes that all her terror was reviving; andI was glad that they were spared the unpleasantness of contact with thepolicemen who guarded the various entrances.

  "We must be brave," said Thorndyke gently, as he took Mrs. Hornby'shand, "and show a cheerful face to our friend who has so much to bearand who bears it so patiently. A few more hours, and I hope we shall seerestored, not only his liberty, but his honour. Here is Mr. Anstey, who,we trust, will be able to make his innocence apparent."

  Anstey, who, unlike Thorndyke, had already donned his wig and gown,bowed gravely, and, together, we passed through the mean and grimyportals into a dark hall. Policemen i
n uniform and unmistakabledetectives stood about the various entries, and little knots of people,evil-looking and unclean for the most part, lurked in the background orsat on benches and diffused through the stale, musty air thatdistinctive but indescribable odour that clings to police vans andprison reception rooms; an odour that, in the present case, waspleasantly mingled with the suggestive aroma of disinfectants. Throughthe unsavoury throng we hurried, and up a staircase to a landing fromwhich several passages diverged. Into one of these passages--a sort of"dark entry," furnished with a cage-like gate of iron bars--we passedto a black door, on which was painted the inscription, "Old Court.Counsel and clerks."

  Anstey held the door open for us, and we passed through into the court,which at once struck me with a sense of disappointment. It was smallerthan I had expected, and plain and mean to the point of sordidness. Thewoodwork was poor, thinly disguised by yellow graining, and slimy withdirt wherever a dirty hand could reach it. The walls were distempered apale, greenish grey; the floor was of bare and dirty planking, and theonly suggestions of dignity or display were those offered by the canopyover the judge's seat--lined with scarlet baize and surmounted by theroyal arms--the scarlet cushions of the bench, and the large, circularclock in the gallery, which was embellished with a gilded border andasserted its importance by a loud, aggressive tick.

  Following Anstey and Thorndyke into the well of the court, we wereushered into one of the seats reserved for counsel--the third from thefront--where we sat down and looked about us, while our two friendsseated themselves in the front bench next to the central table. Here, atthe extreme right, a barrister--presumably the counsel for theprosecution--was already in his place and absorbed in the brief that layon the desk before him. Straight before us were the seats for the jury,rising one above the other, and at their side the witness-box. Above uson the right was the judge's seat, and immediately below it a structuresomewhat resembling a large pew or a counting-house desk, surmounted bya brass rail, in which a person in a grey wig--the clerk of thecourt--was mending a quill pen. On our left rose the dock--suggestivelylarge and roomy--enclosed at the sides with high glazed frames; andabove it, near the ceiling, was the spectators' gallery.

  "What a hideous place!" exclaimed Juliet, who separated me from Mrs.Hornby. "And how sordid and dirty everything looks!"

  "Yes," I answered. "The uncleanness of the criminal is not confined tohis moral being; wherever he goes, he leaves a trail of actual,physical dirt. It is not so long ago that the dock and the bench alikeused to be strewn with medicinal herbs, and I believe the custom stillsurvives of furnishing the judge with a nosegay as a preventive ofjail-fever."

  "And to think that Reuben should be brought to a place like this!"Juliet continued bitterly; "to be herded with such people as we sawdownstairs!"

  She sighed and looked round at the benches that rose behind us, where ahalf-dozen reporters were already seated and apparently in high spiritsat the prospect of a sensational case.

  Our conversation was now interrupted by the clatter of feet on thegallery stairs, and heads began to appear over the wooden parapet.Several junior counsel filed into the seats in front of us; Mr. Lawleyand his clerk entered the attorney's bench; the ushers took their standbelow the jury-box; a police officer seated himself at a desk in thedock; and inspectors, detectives and miscellaneous officers began togather in the entries or peer into the court through the small glazedopenings in the doors.