As the speaker came, somewhat abruptly, to an end, Mr. Penfield opened his snuff-box and took a pinch delicately between finger and thumb.
“It is not quite clear to me, Mr. Woodstock,” said he, “why you are consulting me in this matter. You are an experienced practitioner, and the issue is a fairly simple one. What is there against your dealing with the case according to your own judgment?”
“A good deal,” Mr. Woodstock replied. “In the first place, I am one of the interested parties—the principal one, in fact. In the second, I practise in a country town, whereas you are here in the very heart of the legal world; and in the third, I have no experience whatever of criminal practice; I am a conveyancer pure and simple.”
“But,” objected Mr. Penfield, “this is not a matter of criminal practice. It is just a question of your liability as a bailee.”
“Yes, true. But that question is closely connected with the robbery. Since no charge was made for depositing this property in my strong-room, obviously, I am not liable unless it can be shown that the loss was due to negligence. But the question of negligence turns on the robbery.”
“Which I understand was committed by one of your own staff?”
“Yes, the man Osmond, whom I mentioned; one of my confidential clerks—Hepburn, here, is the other—who had access to the strong-room and who absconded as soon as the robbery was discovered.”
“When you say he had access,” said Mr. Penfield, “you mean—”
“That he had access to the key during office hours. As a matter of fact, it hangs on the wall beside my desk, and when I am there the strong-room is usually kept open—the door is in my private office and opposite to my desk. Of course, when I leave at the end of the day, I lock up the strong-room and take the key away with me.”
“Yes. But in the interval—hm? It almost looks as if a claim might be—hm? But you have given me only an outline of the affair. Perhaps a more detailed account might enable us better to form an opinion on the position. Would it be troubling you too much?”
“Not at all,” replied Mr. Woodstock; “but it is rather a long story. However, I will cut it as short as I can. We will take the events in the order in which they occurred; and you must pull me up, Hepburn, if I overlook anything.
“The missing valuables are the property of a client of mine named Hollis; a retired soap manufacturer, as rich as Croesus, and like most of these over-rich men, having made a fortune was at his wit’s end what to do with it. Eventually, he adopted the usual plan. He became a collector. And having decided to burden himself with a lot of things that he didn’t want, he put the lid on it by specializing in goldsmith’s work, jewellery and precious stones. Wanted a valuable collection, he said, that could be kept in an ordinary dwelling-house.
“Well, of course, the acquisitive mania, once started, grew by what it fed on. The desire to possess this stuff became an obsession. He was constantly planning expeditions in search of new rarities, scouring the Continent for fresh loot, flitting from town to town and from dealer to dealer like an idiotic bee. And whenever he went off on one of these expeditions he would bring the pick of his confounded collection to me to have it deposited in my strong-room. I urged him to take it to the bank; but he doesn’t keep an account with any of the local branches and didn’t want to take the stuff to London. Moreover, he had inspected my strong-room and was a good deal impressed by it.”
“It is really strong, is it?” asked Mr. Penfield.
“Very. Thick reinforced concrete lined with steel. Very large, too. Not that the strength is material as it was not broken into. Well, eventually I agreed to deposit the things in the strong-room—couldn’t refuse an important client—but I resolutely declined to make any charge or accept any sort of consideration for the service. I wasn’t going to make myself responsible for the safety of things of that value. And I explained my position to Hollis; but he said that a strong-room that was good enough for my valuable documents was good enough for his jewels. Which was talking like a fool. Burglars don’t break into safes to steal leases.
“Well, this business began about six years ago, and—so far as I can tell—nothing amiss occurred until quite lately. I say so far as I can tell, for of course we can’t date the robbery. We only know when it was discovered. But I assume that the theft was committed pretty recently or it would surely have been discovered sooner.”
“And when was it first ascertained that a robbery had been committed?” asked Mr. Penfield, dipping a quill into the ink.
“On the fourth of October,” replied Mr. Woodstock; and having paused while Mr. Penfield noted the date, he continued: “On that day Hollis took a great ruby up to South Kensington, where it had been accepted for a loan exhibition. He delivered it himself to the keeper of the precious stones, and was a little taken aback when that gentleman, after a preliminary inspection, began to pore over it with a magnifying-glass and then sent for one of his colleagues. The second expert raised his eyebrows when he had looked at the gem, and he, too, made a careful scrutiny with the lens. Finally, they sent for a third official; and the upshot of it was that the three experts agreed that the stone was not a ruby at all but only a first-class imitation.
“Of course Hollis didn’t believe them, and said so. He had bought the stone for four thousand pounds from a well-known dealer and had shown it to a number of connoisseurs, who had all been enthusiastic about the colour and lustre of the gem. There had never been any question that it was not merely a genuine ruby, but a ruby of the highest class. However, when e had heard the verdict of the experts, he pocketed his treasure and went straight off to Cawley’s in Piccadlilly. But when Mr. Cawley shook his head over the gem and pronounced it an unquestionable counterfeit, he became alarmed and danced off in a deuce of a twitter to the dealer from whom he had bought it.
“That interview settled the matter. The dealer remembered the transaction quite well and knew all about the stone, for he had full records of the circumstances under which he had acquired it. Moreover, he recognized the setting—a pendant with a surround of small diamonds—but he was quite clear that the stone in it was not the stone that he had sold to Hollis. In fact it was not a stone at all; it was just a good-class paste ruby. The original had been picked out of the setting and the counterfeit put in its place; and the person who had done the job was apparently not a skilled jeweller, for there were traces on the setting of some rather amateurish work.”
“There is no doubt, I suppose,” said Mr. Penfield, “of the bona-fides of the dealer?”
“Not the slightest,” was the reply. “He is a man of the highest reputation; and as a matter of fact, no regular dealer would palm off a counterfeit. It wouldn’t be business. But the question doesn’t really arise, as you will see when I proceed with the story.
“As soon as Hollis was convinced that a substitution had been effected, he commissioned an independent expert to come down and make a critical survey of his collection; and it was then ascertained that practically every important gem in his cabinets was a counterfeit. And in every case in which the stone was a false one, the same traces of clumsy workmanship were discoverable by an expert eye.
“The conclusion was obvious. Since the original gems had come from all sorts of different sources, there could he no question of fraud on the part of the various vendors; to say nothing of the fact that Hollis—who has practically no knowledge of stones himself—always obtained an expert opinion before concluding a deal. It was obvious that a systematic robbery had been carried out, and the question that arose was, who could the robber be?
“But that question involved certain others; as, for instance, when had the robbery been committed? where were the jewels at that time? and who had access to the place in which they were?
“These were difficult questions. At first it seemed as if they were unanswerable, and perhaps some of them would have been if the robber had not lost his nerve. But I am anticipating. Let us take the questions in their order.
; “First as to the date of the robbery. It happens that a little less than two years ago Professor Eccles came down by invitation and made a careful inspection of Hollis’s collection with a view to a proposed bequest to the nation, and marked off what he considered to be the most valuable specimens. Now, I need not say that if Professor Eccles detected no counterfeit stones, we may take it that no counterfeits were there. Consequently, the collection was then intact and the robbery must have been committed since that date. But it happens that that date coincides almost exactly with the arrival of Osmond at my office. Just two years ago Hepburn introduced him to me; and as he is Hepburn’s brother-in-law, I accepted him with perfect confidence.
“The other questions seemed more difficult. As to Hollis’s own premises, the jewel-room had a Chubb detector lock on its only door, the cabinets have similar locks, the windows are always kept securely fastened, and no attempt has ever been made to break into the place. Besides, burglars would simply have taken the jewels away. They would not have left substitutes. The personnel of his household—a lady secretary, a housekeeper, and two maids—appear beyond suspicion. Moreover, they had all been with him many years before the robbery occurred. In short, I think we may consider Hollis’s premises as outside the field of inquiry.”
“Do you really?” said Mr. Penfield, in a tone which clearly indicated that he did not.
“Certainly; and so will you when you have heard the rest of the story. We now come to the various occasions on which the more valuable parts of this collection were deposited in my strong-room. Let, me describe the procedure. In the first place, Hollis himself packed the jewels in a number of wooden boxes which he had had made specially for the purpose, each about fourteen inches by nine by about five inches deep. Every box had a good lock with a sunk disc on each side of the keyhole for the seals. When the boxes were packed they were locked and a strip of tape put across the keyhole and secured at each end with a seal. They were then wrapped in strong paper and sealed at all the joints with Hollis’s seal—an antique Greek seal set in a ring which he always wears on his finger. On the outside of the cover was written a list of the contents in Hollis’s own handwriting and signed by him, and each box bore in addition a number. The boxes were brought to my office by Hollis and by him delivered personally to me; and I gave him a receipt, roughly describing and enumerating the boxes, but, of course, not committing myself in respect of the contents. I then carried them myself into the strong-room and placed them on an upper shelf which I reserved for them; and there they remained until Hollis fetched them away, when he used to give me a receipt in the same terms as my own. That concluded the particular transaction.
“Now, it happened that at the time when the robbery was discovered, several of the boxes which Hollis had taken back from me about a month previously still remained packed and in their paper wrappings. And it further happened that one of these—there were eight in all—contained an emerald which Hollis had bought only a few days before he packed it. There was no question as to the genuineness of this stone; and when the box was opened, there was no question as to the fact that it had been replaced by a counterfeit. Even Hollis was able to spot the change. So that seemed to fix the date of the robbery to the period during which the box had been in my strong-room.”
“Apparently,” Mr. Penfield agreed. “But you speak of the box as being still in its paper wrapping. What of the seals?”
“Ah!” exclaimed Woodstock, “that is the most mysterious feature of the affair. The seals were unbroken and, so far as Hollis could see, the package was absolutely intact, just as it had been handed to me.”
Mr. Penfield pursed up his lips and took snuff to the verge of intemperance.
“If the seals were unbroken,” said he, “and the package was in all other respects intact, that would seem to be incontestable proof that it had never been opened since it was closed and sealed.”
“That was what I pointed out,” interposed Hepburn, “when Mr. Woodstock talked the matter over with Osmond and me. The unbroken seals seemed a conclusive answer to any suggestion that the robbery took place in our office.”
“So they did,” Woodstock agreed, “and so they would still if Osmond had kept his head. But he didn’t. He had evidently reckoned on the question of a robbery from our strong-room never being raised, and I imagine that it was that emerald that upset his nerve. At any rate, within a week of our discussion he bolted, and then, of course, the murder was out.”
Mr. Penfield nodded gravely and asked, after a short pause: “And how is Mr. Hollis taking it? Is he putting any pressure on you?”
“Oh, not at all—up to the present. He has not suggested any claim against me; he merely wants to lay his hand on the robber and, if possible, get his jewels back. He entirely approves of what I have done.”
“What have you done?” Mr. Penfield asked.
“I have done the obvious thing,” was the reply, delivered in a slightly truculent tone. “As soon as it was clear that Osmond had absconded, I communicated with the police. I laid an information and gave them the leading facts.”
“And do they propose to take any action?”
“Most undoubtedly; in fact I may say that they have been most commendably prompt. They have already traced Osmond to Bristol, and I have every hope that in due course they will run him to earth and arrest him.”
“That is quite probable,” said Mr. Penfield. “And when they have arrested him—?”
“He will be brought back and charged before a magistrate, when we may take it that he will be committed for trial.”
“It is possible,” Mr. Penfield assented, doubtfully. “And then—”
“Then,” replied Woodstock, reddening and raising his voice, “he will be put on his trial and, I make no doubt, sent to penal servitude.”
Mr. Penfield took snuff deprecatingly and shook his head. “I think not,” said he; “but perhaps there is some item of evidence which you have omitted to mention?”
“Evidence!” Woodstock repeated impatiently. “What evidence do you want? The property has been stolen and the man who had an opportunity to steal it has absconded. What more do you want?”
Mr. Penfield looked at his brother solicitor with mild surprise.
“The judge,” he replied, “and I should think the magistrate, too, would want some positive evidence that the accused stole the jewels. There appears to be no such evidence. The unexplained disappearance of this man is a suspicious circumstance; but it is useless to take suspicions into court. You have got to make out a case, and at present you have no case. If the charge were not dismissed by the magistrate, the bill would certainly be thrown out by the Grand Jury.”
Mr. Woodstock glowered sullenly at the old lawyer, but he made no reply, while Hepburn sat with down cast eyes and the faintest trace of an ironical smile.
“Consider,” Mr. Penfield resumed, “what would be the inevitable answer of the defence. They would point out that there is not a particle of evidence that the robbery—if there has really been a robbery—occurred in your office at all, and that there are excellent reasons for believing that it did not.”
“What reasons are there?”
“There are the unbroken seals. Until you can show how the jewels could have been abstracted without breaking the seals, you have not even a prima-facie case. Then there is the method of the alleged robbery. It would have required not merely access but undisturbed possession for a considerable time. It was not just a matter of picking out the stones. They were replaced by plausible counterfeits which had to be made or procured. Take the case of the ruby that you mentioned. It deceived Hollis completely. Then it must have been very like the original in size, form, and colour. It could not have been picked up casually at a theatrical property dealer’s; it must have been made ad hoc by careful comparison with the original. But all this and the subsequent setting and finishing would take time. It would be quite possible while the jewels were lying quietly in Hollis’s cabinets, but it would see
m utterly impossible under the alleged circumstances. In short,” Mr. Penfield concluded, “I am astounded that you ever admitted the possibility of the robbery having occurred on your premises. What do you say, Mr. Hepburn?”
“I agree with you entirely,” the latter replied. “My position would have been that we had received certain sealed packages and that we had handed them back in the same condition as we received them. I should have left Hollis to prove the contrary.”
“And I think he could have done it,” said Woodstock doggedly. “You seem to be forgetting that emerald. But in any case I have accepted the suggestion and I am not going to draw back, especially as my confidential clerk has absconded and virtually admitted the theft. The question is, what is to be done? Hollis is mad to get hold of the robber and recover his gems, and he is prepared to stand the racket financially.”
“In that case,” said Mr. Penfield, taking a final pinch and pocketing his snuff-box, “I will venture to make a suggestion. This case is out of your depth and out of mine. I suggest that you allow me to take counsel’s opinion; and the counsel I should select would be Dr. John Thorndyke.”
“Thorndyke—hm!” grunted Woodstock. “Isn’t he an irregular practitioner of some sort?”
“Not at all,” Mr. Penfield dissented warmly. “He is a scientific expert with an unrivalled knowledge and experience of criminal practice. If it is possible for anyone to unravel this tangle, I am confident that he is the man; and I know of no other.”
The Third R. Austin Freeman Megapack Page 41
