by Sax Rohmer
CHAPTER VIII
THE ASSISTANT COMMISSIONER'S THEORY
On the following morning Inspector Dunbar, having questioned Mrs.M'Gregor respecting the car in which Mlle. Dorian had visited thehouse and having elicited no other evidence than that it was "a fineluxurious concern," the Inspector and Dr. Stuart prepared to set outupon gruesome business. Mrs. M'Gregor was very favourably impressedwith the Inspector. "A grand, pairsonable body," she confided toStuart. "He'd look bonny in the kilt."
To an East-End mortuary the cab bore them, and they were led by aconstable in attendance to a stone-paved, ill-lighted apartment inwhich a swathed form lay upon a long deal table. The spectaclepresented, when the covering was removed, was one to have shockedless hardened nerves than those of Stuart and Dunbar; but the dutiesof a police officer, like those of a medical man, not infrequentlynecessitate such inspections. The two bent over the tragic flotsam ofthe Thames unmoved and critical.
"H'm," said Stuart--"he's about the build, certainly. Hair iron-greyand close cropped and he seems to have worn a beard. Now, let us see."
He bent, making a close inspection of the skull; then turned andshook his head.
"No, Inspector," he said definitely. "This is not the cabman. There isno wound corresponding to the one which I dressed."
"Right," answered Dunbar, covering up the ghastly face. "That'ssettled."
"You were wrong, Inspector. It was not Gaston Max who left theenvelope with me."
"No," mused Dunbar, "so it seems."
"Your theory that Max, jealously working alone, had left particularsof his inquiries, and clues, in my hands, knowing that they wouldreach Scotland Yard in the event of his death, surely collapsed whenthe envelope proved to contain nothing but a bit of cardboard?"
"Yes--I suppose it did. But it sounded so much like Max's round-aboutmethods. Anyway I wanted to make sure that the dead man from HanoverHole and your mysterious cabman were not one and the same."
Stuart entertained a lively suspicion that Inspector Dunbar was keepingsomething up his sleeve, but with this very proper reticence he had noquarrel, and followed by the constable, who relocked the mortuarybehind them, they came out into the yard where the cab waited whichwas to take them to Scotland Yard. Dunbar, standing with one foot uponthe step of the cab, turned to the constable.
"Has anyone else viewed the body?" he asked.
"No sir."
"No one is to be allowed to do so--you understand?--_no one_, unlesshe has written permission from the Commissioner."
"Very good, sir."
Half an hour later they arrived at New Scotland Yard and went up toDunbar's room. A thick-set, florid man of genial appearance, having adark moustache, a breezy manner and a head of hair resembling a veryhard-worked blacking-brush, awaited them. This was Detective-SargeantSowerby with whom Stuart was already acquainted.
"Good-morning, Sergeant Sowerby," he said.
"Good-morning, sir. I hear that someone was pulling your leg lastnight."
"What do you mean exactly, Sowerby?" inquired Dunbar, fixing hisfierce eyes upon his subordinate.
Sergeant Sowerby exhibited confusion.
"I mean nothing offensive, Inspector. I was referring to thejoker who gave so good an imitation of my voice that even_you_ were deceived."
"Ah," replied Dunbar--"I see. Yes--he did it well. He spoke just likeyou. I could hardly make out a word he said."
With this Caledonian shaft and a side-glance at Stuart, InspectorDunbar sat down at the table.
"Here's Dr. Stuart's description of the missing cabman," he continued,taking out his note-book. "Dr. Stuart has viewed the body and it isnot the man. You had better take a proper copy of this."
"Then the cabman wasn't Max?" cried Sowerby eagerly. "I thought not."
"I believe you told me so before," said Dunbar sourly. "I also seem torecall that you thought a scorpion's tail was a Prickly Pear.However--here, on the page numbered twenty-six, is a description ofthe woman known as Mlle. Dorian. It should be a fairly easy matter totrace the car through the usual channels, and she ought to be easy tofind, too."
He glanced at his watch. Stuart was standing by the lofty windowlooking out across the Embankment.
"Ten o'clock," said Dunbar. "The Commissioner will be expecting us."
"I am ready," responded Stuart.
Leaving Sergeant Sowerby seated at the table studying the note-book,Stuart and Dunbar proceeded to the smoke-laden room of the AssistantCommissioner. The great man, suavely satanic, greeted Stuart withthat polished courtesy for which he was notable.
"You have been of inestimable assistance to us in the past, Dr.Stuart," he said, "and I feel happy to know that we are to enjoy theaid of your special knowledge in the present case. Will you smoke oneof my cigarettes? They are some which a friend is kind enough tosupply to me direct from Cairo, and are really quite good."
"Thanks," replied Stuart. "May I ask in what direction my servicesare likely to prove available?"
The Commissioner lighted a fresh cigarette. Then from a heap ofcorrespondence he selected a long report typed upon blue foolscap.
"I have here," he said, "confirmation of the telegraphic reportreceived last night. The name of M. Gaston Max will no doubt befamiliar to you?"
Stuart nodded.
"Well," continued the Commissioner, "it appears that he has beenengaged in England for the past month endeavouring to trace theconnection which he claims to exist between the sudden deaths ofvarious notable people, recently--a list is appended--and some personor organisation represented by, or associated with, a scorpion. Hispersonal theory not being available--poor fellow, you have heard ofhis tragic death--I have this morning consulted such particulars asI could obtain respecting these cases. If they were really cases ofassassination, some obscure poison was the only mode of death thatcould possibly have been employed. Do you follow me?"
"Perfectly."
"Now, the death of Gaston Max under circumstances not yet explained,would seem to indicate that his theory was a sound one. In otherwords, I am disposed to believe that he himself represents the mostrecent outrage of what we will call 'The Scorpion.' Even at the timethat the body of the man found by the River Police had not beenidentified, the presence upon his person of a fragment of goldstrongly resembling the tail of a scorpion prompted me to instructInspector Dunbar to consult you. I had determined upon a certaincourse. The identification of the dead man with Gaston Max merelystrengthens my determination and enhances the likelihood of my ideabeing a sound one."
He flicked the ash from his cigarette and resumed:
"Without mentioning names, the experts consulted in the other caseswhich--according to the late Gaston Max--were victims of 'TheScorpion,' do not seem to have justified their titles. I am arrangingthat you shall be present at the autopsy upon the body of Gaston Max.And now, permit me to ask you a question: are you acquainted with anypoison which would produce the symptoms noted in the case of Sir FrankNarcombe, for instance?"
Stuart shook his head slowly.
"All that I know of the case," he said, "is that he was taken suddenlyill in the foyer of a West-End theatre, immediately removed to hishouse in Half Moon Street, and died shortly afterward. Can you give mecopies of the specialists' reports and other particulars? I may thenbe able to form an opinion."
"I will get them for you," replied the Commissioner, the exact natureof whose theory was by no means evident to Stuart. He opened a drawer."I have here," he continued, "the piece of cardboard and the envelopeleft with you by the missing cab-man. Do you think there is anypossibility of invisible writing?"
"None," said Stuart confidently. "I have tested in three or fourplaces as you will see by the spots, but my experiments will in no wayinterfere with those which no doubt your own people will want to make.I have also submitted both surfaces to a microscopic examination. I amprepared to state definitely that there is no writing upon thecardboard, and except for the number, 30, none upon the envelope."
"
It is only reasonable to suppose," continued the Commissioner, "thatthe telephone message which led Inspector Dunbar to leave your houselast night was originated by that unseen intelligence against which wefind ourselves pitted. In the first place, no one in London, myselfand, presumably, 'The Scorpion' excepted, knew at that time that M.Gaston Max was in England or that M. Gaston Max was dead. I say,presumably 'The Scorpion' because it is fair to assume that the personwhom Max pursued was responsible for his death.
"Of course"--the Commissioner reached for the box of cigarettes--"wereit not for the telephone message, we should be unjustified in assumingthat Mlle. Dorian and this"--he laid his finger upon the piece ofcardboard--"had any connection with the case of M. Max. But themessage was so obviously designed to facilitate the purloining of thesealed envelope and so obviously emanated from one already aware ofthe murder of M. Max, that the sender is identified at once with--'The Scorpion.'"
The Assistant Commissioner complacently lighted a fresh cigarette.
"Finally," he said, "the mode of death in the case of M. Max may nothave been the same as in the other cases. Therefore, Dr. Stuart"--hepaused impressively--"if you fail to detect anything suspicious at thepost mortem examination I propose to apply to the Home Secretary forpower to exhume the body of the late Sir Frank Narcombe!"
Deep in reflection, Stuart walked alone along the Embankment. The fullfacts contained in the report from Paris the Commissioner had notdivulged, but Stuart concluded that this sudden activity was directlydue, not to the death of M. Max, but to the fact that he (Max) hadleft behind him some more or less tangible clue. Stuart fullyrecognized that the Commissioner had accorded him an opportunity toestablish his reputation--or to wreck it.
Yet, upon closer consideration, it became apparent that it was toFate and not to the Commissioner that he was indebted. Strictlyspeaking, his association with the matter dated from the night ofhis meeting with the mysterious cabman in West India Dock road. Or hadthe curtain first been lifted upon this occult drama that evening,five years ago, as the setting sun reddened the waters of the ImperialCanal and a veiled figure passed him on the Wu-Men Bridge?
"Shut your eyes tightly, master--the Scorpion is coming!"
He seemed to hear the boy's words now, as he passed along theEmbankment; he seemed to see again the tall figure. And suddenly hestopped, stood still and stared with unseeing eyes across the muddywaters of the Thames. He was thinking of the cowled man who had stoodbehind the curtains in his study--of that figure so wildly bizarrethat even now he could scarcely believe that he had ever actually seenit. He walked on.
Automatically his reflections led him to Mlle. Dorian, and heremembered that even as he paced along there beside the river thewonderful mechanism of New Scotland Yard was in motion, its manytentacles seeking--seeking tirelessly--for the girl, whose dark eyeshaunted his sleeping and waking hours. _He_ was responsible, and ifshe were arrested _he_ would be called upon to identify her. Hecondemned himself bitterly.
After all, what crime had she committed? She had tried to purloin aletter--which did not belong to Stuart in the first place. And she hadfailed. Now--the police were looking for her. His reflections took anew form.
What of Gaston Max, foremost criminologist in Europe, who now lay deadand mutilated in an East-End mortuary? The telephone message which hadsummoned Dunbar away had been too opportune to be regarded as a merecoincidence. Mlle. Dorian was, therefore, an accomplice of a murderer.
Stuart sighed. He would have given much--more than he was prepared toadmit to himself--to have known her to be guiltless.
The identity of the missing cabman now engaged his mind. It was quitepossible, of course, that the man had actually found the envelope inhis cab a was in no other way concerned in the matter. But how hadMlle. Dorian, or the person instructing her, traced the envelope tohis study? And why, if they could establish a claim to it, had theypreferred to attempt to steal it? Finally, why all this disturbanceabout a blank piece of cardboard?
A mental picture of the envelope arose before him, the number, 30,written upon it and the two black seals securing the lapels. He pausedagain in his walk. His reflections had led him to a second definitepoint and he fumbled in his waistcoat pocket for a time, seeking acertain brass coin about the size of a halfpenny, having a square holein the middle and peculiar characters engraved around the square, oneon each of the four sides.
He failed to find the coin in his pocket, however, but he walkedbriskly up a side street until he came to the entrance to a tubestation. Entering a public telephone call-box, he asked for thenumber, City 400. Being put through and having deposited the necessaryfee in the box:
"Is that the Commissioner's Office, New Scotland Yard?" he asked."Yes! My name is Dr. Keppel Stuart. If Inspector Dunbar is there,would you kindly allow me to speak to him."
There was a short interval, then:
"Hullo!" came--"is that Dr. Stuart?"
"Yes. That you, Inspector? I have just remembered something which Ishould have observed in the first place if I had been really wide-awake.The envelope--you know the one I mean?--the one bearing the number, 30,has been sealed with a Chinese coin, known as _cash_. I have justrecognized the fact and thought it wise to let you know at once."
"Are you sure?" asked Dunbar.
"Certain. If you care to call at my place later to-day I can show yousome _cash_. Bring the envelope with you and you will see that thecoins correspond to the impression in the wax. The inscriptions varyin different provinces, but the form of all _cash_ is the same."
"Very good. Thanks for letting me know at once. It seems to establisha link with China, don't you think?"
"It does, but it merely adds to the mystery."
Coming out of the call-box, Stuart proceeded home, but made one ortwo professional visits before he actually returned to the house. Henow remembered having left his particular _cash_ piece (which heusually carried) in his dispensary, which satisfactorily accountedfor his failure to find the coin in his waistcoat pocket. He hadbroken the cork of a flask, and in the absence of another of correctsize had manufactured a temporary stopper with a small cork to the topof which he had fixed the Chinese coin with a drawing-pin. His purposeserved he had left the extemporised stopper lying somewhere in thedispensary.
Stuart's dispensary was merely a curtained recess at one end of thewaiting-room and shortly after entering the house he had occasion tovisit it. Lying upon a shelf among flasks and bottles was the Chinesecoin with the cork still attached. He took it up in order to study theinscription. Then:
"Have I cultivated somnambulism!" he muttered.
Fragments of black sealing-wax adhered to the coin!
Incredulous and half fearful he peered at it closely. He rememberedthat the impression upon the wax sealing the mysterious envelope hadhad a circular depression in the centre. It had been made by the headof the drawing-pin!
He found himself staring at the shelf immediately above that uponwhich the coin had lain. A stick of black sealing-wax used for sealingmedicine was thrust in beside a bundle of long envelopes in which hewas accustomed to post his Infirmary reports!
One hand raised to his head, Stuart stood endeavouring to marshal hisideas into some sane order. Then, knowing what he should find, heraised the green baize curtain hanging from the lower shelf, whichconcealed a sort of cupboard containing miscellaneous stores and nota little rubbish, including a number of empty cardboard boxes.
A rectangular strip had been roughly cut from the lid of the topmostbox!
The mysterious envelope and its contents, the wax and the seal--allhad come from his own dispensary!
