The Third R. Austin Freeman Megapack

by R. Austin Freeman

  Mr. Toke was rather sorry that Mr. Hughes had come into the affair.

  CHAPTER III

  An Unholy Alliance

  Lovers of paradox assure us that it is the unexpected that happens. Perhaps they are right. But the unexpected holds no monopoly. Sometimes the expected happens. It did, for instance, on a certain Friday afternoon—the very day, in fact, after the auction. On that day, in accordance with the announcement on his cards, Mr. Toke was in attendance at his professional premises. At the moment he was seated at the writing-table in the inner room—it was hardly an office—writing one or two letters. He was quite alone, for he had no clerk or secretary. He had no use for one, since his business was entirely personal and his transactions few, though the amounts involved were usually substantial. So there he sat, writing his letters, but by no means engrossed with the matter thereof.

  To tell the literal truth, Mr. Toke was just a shade nervous. The auction had not gone quite according to plan. He had reckoned on Mr. Dobey, whereas he now had to deal with Mr. Hughes; which was a slightly different proposition. Accordingly, he sat, making shift to write, but with an attentive ear on the outer door.

  It was within a few minutes of five o’clock, and he was preparing for a scrupulously punctual departure, when the expected happened. The outer door opened, and, through the slight opening of the door communicating with the outer room, he saw a man enter. He rose, and, stepping out into the other room found himself confronting Mr. Hughes. The visitor looked at him critically and affirmed:

  “I wish to see Mr. Didbury Toke.”

  “Fortunate man!” said Mr. Toke. “Your wish is realized even as you utter it. In what way can I be of service to you?”

  “I should like to have a few words with you in private,” was the reply.

  “Again,” said Mr. Toke, with genial facetiousness, by way of keeping up his spirits, “you are favoured. For here we are, solus cum solo, with none to supervise, as the poet expresses it. You can say anything you like and no one will be the wiser.”

  He led the way into the inner room, and, shutting the communicating door, indicated a chair adjoining the writing-table, resumed his seat at the table, and looked expectantly at his visitor.

  “I have come to see you on behalf of Mr. Charles Dobey,” said the latter. “My own name is Hughes.”

  “I hope Mr. Dobey is not unwell,” said Mr. Toke.

  “He is not,” was the reply; “but he wished me to act on his behalf, as being more experienced in business affairs. The matter is this: a short time ago you purchased from a certain Thomas Hobson an antique clock. Dobey states that the clock was actually his property, but I am not going into that. The point is, that there was certain property, which certainly was Dobey’s, concealed in that dock. He had been in the habit of using it as a safe.”

  “What an extraordinarily stupid thing to do!” exclaimed Mr. Toke.

  “I agree,” said Mr. Hughes. “But he did. He stowed this property in a cavity between two partitions, the upper of which was secured with screws.”

  “Was this property of any considerable value?” Mr. Toke asked.

  “I understand that it was.”

  “Dear me!” exclaimed Mr. Toke, “I wish I had known. May I ask what was its nature?”

  “I understand that it consisted of jewellery,” replied Mr. Hughes. “But the point is, that it has disappeared. Acting on Dobey’s instructions, I bought the clock, and Dobey removed the partition in my presence. The cavity underneath was empty.”

  “Dear me,” said Mr. Toke. “Was it, indeed? Now, I wonder how it can have disappeared.”

  “Dobey assumes that you removed it, and it seems a reasonable supposition. I have come to ask you what you propose to do about it.”

  Mr. Toke leaned back in his chair, and, placing his fingertips together, looked steadily at Mr. Hughes. He had, indeed, been looking at him throughout the interview, and, as the light from the window fell full on the queer, rather sinister face, he had been able to study it advantageously. I use the word “study” advisedly; for at the first glance he had been aware of a faint stirring of memory. Mr. Toke had an exceedingly good memory for faces; and, although this face was strange to him, yet, as he looked, it seemed to set some chord of memory vibrating.

  “May I ask what leads you to suppose that I removed this property?” he asked, without any sign of resentment.

  “It is obvious enough,” Hughes replied. “The property was there when the clock came into your possession, and it isn’t there now.”

  “But,” protested Toke, “you seem to be over looking the number of hands through which the clock has passed. There is the cabinet-maker, the clock-maker who fitted the movement to the case, and various unknown persons who had access to it at the auction rooms.”

  “And there is yourself, the only one of the lot who happens to have the means of disposing of valuable jewellery.”

  That is quite true,” Mr. Toke agreed. “If Dobey had offered me the jewellery, I could certainly have disposed of it to advantage. Unfortunately, he did not. And you must see that my professional standing has no bearing on the question as to who found the jewellery, assuming it to have been really there. The fact is that I, of course, saw the partition, and I saw that it had no business to be there. But I make it a rule, when I buy a piece with the intention of selling it, to leave it exactly as I find it. And I instructed the cabinet-maker to make no structural changes in the case; otherwise, he would, no doubt, have removed the partition, as it might be thought to stand in the way of the weights. Still, it might be worth while to ask him if he did remove it.”

  “I have,” said Mr. Hughes, “and he states very positively that he did not. And I believe him.”

  “So do I,” said Mr. Toke. “He is a most respectable man, and would, I am sure, have reported to me if he had made any discovery. And so, I think, would the clock-maker. If the property was really there, it must have been abstracted by someone after it was delivered at the auction rooms.”

  Mr. Hughes received this statement in gloomy silence, but with a lowering of the brows—or, at least, of the region where the brows should have been—that plainly expressed his unbelief. But he did not leave it at mere facial expression. After a somewhat lengthy pause, he said, in low, emphatic tones:

  “Look here, Mr. Toke, all this evasion is no good. You have got those jewels. It is of no use your telling me that you haven’t. I am perfectly sure that you have.”

  “Very well,” Mr. Toke replied calmly, “then there is no more to be said. You have your legal remedy, you know.”

  “You know that we have nothing of the sort,” replied Hughes. “I realize that you can stick to them if you like. The question is, do you intend to hold on to them, or are you willing to make some sort of arrangement with Dobey?”

  Mr. Toke reflected. Once before, when he had discovered the jewels, he had stood at the cross-roads; and he had taken the wrong turning. Now he stood at the cross-roads again. Should he share the loot with these two rascals, or should he accept the gifts of Fortune and snap his fingers at them?

  It was a momentous question; more momentous than he knew. If he could have looked into the future and seen the consequences that hung on his decision, that decision might have been very different. But Mr. Toke was like the rest of us. He could be wise enough after the event. But the future was a matter of guess work. And it is always possible to guess wrong. Probably Mr. Toke guessed wrong on this occasion. At any rate, he made the fateful decision; and the future was to show that it was the wrong one.

  “I cannot be committed to any opinions that you may have formed,” said he. “As to these jewels, I feel no conviction that they were ever there. Mr. Dobey is a plumber and gas-fitter. Now, what has a gas-fitter to do with valuable jewels?”

  “We need not go into that,” Mr. Hughes said, brusquely.

  “Very true. We need not,” Mr. Toke agreed. “There is certainly a particular kind of gas-fitter who comes into the possess
ion of valuable jewels. But he is not an honest kind of gas-fitter, whose word could be accepted without proof. I am very doubtful about those jewels.”

  “Then I take it that you don’t mean to make any kind of arrangement?”

  “I am willing to make one concession,” Mr. Toke replied. “As I assume that you bought the clock for the purpose of recovering the jewels, I am ready to take it back at the price that you paid, subject to its being in the same condition as when it was sold.”

  “Well,” said Hughes,” I suppose we must be thankful for small mercies. We don’t want to drop a couple of hundred on an empty shell. I will accept your offer. The clock shall be delivered here in good condition next Tuesday, if that will suit you.”

  “It will suit me perfectly,” replied Mr. Toke. “And as to payment? Will a crossed cheque do?”

  “Certainly,” Hughes replied; and, for the first time, his rather unprepossessing countenance was illuminated by the ghost of a smile.

  Mr. Toke was secretly surprised, but he concealed the fact and rejoined:

  “One naturally prefers to draw crossed cheques. Shall I give the cheque to the person who delivers the clock?

  “No,” replied Hughes. “I will come with it, or soon after.”

  Mr. Toke nodded, and, as the other rose to depart, said facetiously, and perhaps a little untactfully:

  “I am sorry that things have turned out so unsatisfactorily for Mr. Dobey; but, if he had brought his heirlooms to me, instead of hiding them in a clock in someone else’s house, we might have made some mutually satisfactory arrangement—that is, if he wished to dispose of them. You might mention the fact to him for his future guidance.”

  It was not a tactful thing to say, under the circumstances, and, for a moment, Mr. Hughes looked decidedly vicious. But, if he was an angry man, he was also a politic man. He was not going to let temper stand in the way of self-interest. Just as the great difficulty of the murderer is the disposal of the body, so the great difficulty of those who acquire unlawful goods is the disposal of the loot. Now Mr. Toke undoubtedly had the means of disposing of valuable property. Mr. Hughes had not. For though, like Mr. Toke, he knew the ropes, there were circumstances that hindered his appearance in the places where precious things were bought and sold. Therefore, to Mr. Toke’s surprise, instead of resenting the advice, he replied, dryly:

  “He will be grateful for the tip. Shall I tell him that you are prepared to waive the question of title deeds?”

  Mr. Toke smiled blandly. “When I am offered property for purchase,” he said, “I assume that the vendor is the owner. It is a reasonable assumption.”

  “Quite,” agreed Hughes. “But suppose there seems to be a flaw in the title. How would that affect the transaction? I suppose it would be a case of a knock-down price, at any rate?”

  “My dear sir,” said Mr. Toke, “you know very well that property which is hampered by conditions that hinder its sale in the open market is of less value than property not so hampered. That has to be allowed for in order to leave a reasonable profit to the purchaser. But the allowance need not be excessive.”

  Hughes reflected with a calculating eye on Mr. Toke. After a considerable pause, he said, rather suddenly:

  “Look here, Mr. Toke. I want to ask you a plain question. I don’t know a great deal about Dobey’s affairs, but I fancy that he sometimes comes by oddments of property—jewellery, for the most part—that are not quite negotiable in the regular markets. I don’t know where he picks them up. It isn’t my affair. Now the question is, in plain language, would you be prepared to take them off his hands and give him a fair price for them?”

  “If I bought them, I should give a fair price, allowing for difficulties of disposal. But I couldn’t have Dobey coming here, you know, or at my private house.”

  “I realize that,” said Hughes. “But that could be arranged. May I take it that you would be willing to buy the goods and ask no questions?”

  Mr. Toke was a little staggered by the bluntness of the phrase, but he answered with belated caution:

  “My business, hitherto, has been of a strictly legitimate kind. My reputation in the trade is spotless. Still, if the affair could be arranged with absolute discretion, I might be prepared to consider a deal of the kind that you propose.”

  “Very well,” said Hughes, “I will tell Dobey. And, if he should happen to pick up any chance trifles, we must consider how the negotiations could be carried out.”

  With this Mr. Hughes took his leave and departed with very mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was possessed by a murderous hatred of Mr. Toke. That the latter had the diamonds—that he had quietly annexed the product of an almost unique coup—he had no doubt. But he was equally sure that Mr. Toke’s position was impregnable. By no means that he could think of could that discreet gentleman be made to disgorge. On the other hand, much to his surprise, Toke seemed quite willing to act as a receiver of stolen property. That was all to the good; for Toke would probably pay better prices than the wretched pittances offered by the regular “fences.” And he would be much safer to deal with, provided the transactions were kept on the discreet lines that both of them desired. So Mr. Hughes was not displeased, especially as the arrangement promised, sooner or later, to give him a chance to settle accounts with Mr. Toke.

  The latter gentleman, left alone in his office, was also a little surprised at himself. After years of blameless dealing, he had suddenly proposed to embark on the perilous activities of the “receiver.” Why this sudden change of outlook? He was a little puzzled, though he dimly perceived the explanation; which was, in reality, fairly simple. He had dismounted the diamonds from their settings, and had made an estimate of their marketable value. The amount that he could safely reckon on pocketing by their sale came out at the highly satisfactory figure of seven thousand pounds. Now, seven thousand pounds takes a great deal of earning by legitimate industry. Naturally he was impressed by this “easy money”—the immemorial lure that has drawn so many on to the broad road that leadeth to destruction. But the really potent influence was the fact that he was already in actual possession of stolen property, and making preparations to dispose of it. The first step had been taken; and, in taking it, he had made a curious discovery. He had discovered that, apart from the attraction of easily won wealth, there was a certain element of excitement and adventure in the acquirement and sale of illicit property that was only feebly present in lawful dealing.

  On the following Tuesday the clock was duly delivered, and Mr. Toke was in the act of winding it when Mr. Hughes arrived. His greeting was not effusive, nor was it in any way hostile. He merely stated that he had come for the cheque.

  “A crossed cheque, you said, drawn to your own name, I suppose?”

  “Yes. Arthur Hughes.”

  Mr. Toke wrote out the cheque and handed it to Hughes with the remark:

  “Well, you’ve got your money back, at any rate.”

  “Some of it,” responded Hughes, adding: “Are you sure you won’t reconsider the other little matter?”

  But Mr. Toke’s heart was hardened. Already, in effect, he had his hand on that seven thousand pounds.

  “If you mean the problem of the alleged lost property in the clock,” said he, “I can only repeat that I know nothing about it, and that I am profoundly sceptical as to its having been there, at any rate when the clock came into my possession.”

  “Very well,” said Hughes, “then we must leave it at that. And now as to the other matter—the question of your negotiating some of Dobey’s unconsidered trifles. Have you considered the question of procedure?”

  “In a general way,” replied Mr. Toke. “In the interests of us both, we must avoid jeopardizing my position as a reputable dealer. You realize that?”

  Hughes realized it perfectly. Not that he was in the least tender about Mr. Toke’s reputation in the abstract, but he saw clearly that a reputable dealer could obtain, and pay, better prices than a common fence. He said so, and Mr.
Toke continued:

  “To that end, there must be as little contact as possible. I can’t have Dobey coming here; and the less you come here, yourself, the better. We must avoid leaving tracks.”

  “Certainly,” Hughes agreed, “if you can see how to avoid leaving them.”

  “I think I can. We will go into that presently. But there is another point. We shall simplify matters a great deal if we try to treat one another quite fairly and honestly.”

  Mr. Hughes’s thoughts turned, inevitably, towards the despoiled clock, and he grinned openly and undisguisedly. Nevertheless, he assented to the proposition. Mr. Toke observed and interpreted the grin, but continued unabashed:

  “What I mean is, that if the vendor and purchaser are each content with actual, realizable values, contacts, even by post, will be reduced to a minimum.”

  Hughes nodded with the air of one waiting for further details, and Toke continued:

  “Supposing, for instance, Dobey submits a parcel of goods with a specified price. Now, if that price is a fair one it can be paid, and there is the end of the matter. But if he makes an excessive claim, the goods must be returned, or there must be a course of bargaining, involving, in either case, an undesirable number of contacts. Or, if he should submit a parcel for an offer, and I make such an offer as, in my judgment, is the best that is practicable; if he accepts that offer without haggling, again contacts are reduced to a minimum. You see my point?”

  “Yes, and I agree in principle. One can’t do more until one sees how things work out in practice. How do you suggest that samples should be submitted? You don’t want them left by hand, and the post is not very safe—an accident is always possible. Have you any plan?”