“I think you are wise,” said McGonnell. “It would have seemed an extravagant piece of scepticism and couldn’t have led to any result. And now,” he added, looking anxiously at his watch, “I suppose we have finished our business. I hope so. Have we got to see to the re-placing of the coffin?”
“No, sir,” replied Miller. “That is my business, as official master of the ceremonies. There is nothing to detain you.”
“Thank goodness for that,” said McGonnell, and began, forthwith, to move towards the gate, while Mr. Pippet, the two solicitors and the two young people advanced up the path to meet the two elder ladies and give them the latest news of the discoveries. Then the beadle unlocked the gate, and, as the procession moved towards it, we joined the party to exchange polite greetings and see them into their cars (in which the opposing litigants got mixed up in the most singular and amicable manner).
“Can I give you two a lift?” inquired Brodribb, as he held the door of his car open.
“No, thank you,” replied Thorndyke. “We have a little business to transact with Miller.”
Thereupon Brodribb wriggled, with some difficulty into his car; and we re-entered the gate, which the beadle locked after us, and rejoined the Superintendent.
CHAPTER XI
Plumber’s Oddments and Other Matters
As Thorndyke and I returned from the gate, the Superintendent met us with a peculiarly knowing expression on his countenance.
“Well, Doctor,” said he, “what about it?” And, as this slightly ambiguous question elicited no reply beyond an indulgent smile, he continued: “When I hear a gentleman of your intellect propose to assay a lump of old lead to ascertain the exact vintage year, experience tells me that that gentleman has got something up his sleeve. Now, Doctor, let’s hear what it is.”
“To tell you the truth, Miller,” Thorndyke replied, “I don’t quite know, myself. But you are wrong about the lead. The age of a piece of lead can be judged fairly accurately by the silver content. If you find a piece of sheet lead with a silver content of, say, ten ounces to the ton, you can be pretty sure that it was made before Pattinson’s process for the desilverization of lead was invented. Still, you are right to the extent that the question of age was not the only issue that I had in my mind. There were other reasons why the assay should be made.”
“But you have abandoned the assay,” objected Miller, “and very surprised I was to hear you give way so easily.”
“I gave way in your favour,” said Thorndyke, with a cryptic smile. “You are going to have the assay carried out.”
“Oh, am I?” exclaimed the Superintendent. “It’s as well to know these things in advance.” We turned into a side path to get a little farther from the beadle and his mate, and Miller continued: “Now, look here, Doctor; I want to be clear about this business. This is a civil case, and it is no concern of mine, as a police officer. What’s the game? You seem to be dumping this blooming lead on me, and then there are these screws. Why did you want me to take charge of them?” He drew out of his pocket the rusty handful and looked at them disparagingly. “I don’t see anything special about them. They look to me like ordinary screws such as you could buy at any ironmonger’s.”
Thorndyke chuckled. “They are common-looking screws, I must admit,” said he. “But don’t despise them. Like many other common-looking things, they have their value. I want you to put them into an envelope and seal it with your official seal; and write on the envelope, ‘Screws extracted in my presence from the coffin of Josiah Pippet,’ and sign it. Will you do that?”
“Yes,” replied Miller, “I don’t see any objection to that, though I am hanged if I can guess what you want them for. But with regard to this lead. You want me to have it assayed on my own initiative, as a police officer. But I must have something to go on. The judge’s order doesn’t cover me. Now, I know quite well that you have got something perfectly definite in your mind; and, knowing you as I do, I am pretty sure that it is not a delusion Can’t you tell me what it is?”
Thorndyke reflected for a few moments. “The fact is,” he said at length, “I am in a difficulty. My position in this case is that of a counsel instructed by Brodribb.” Here Miller indulged in a broad grin, but made no comment, beyond something like a wink directed towards me, and Thorndyke continued: “You saw that Brodribb disliked the idea of the assay. He is a very acute lawyer, but he is a most scrupulously courteous old gentleman, and he was obviously unwilling to seem to throw the slightest doubt on the good faith of the other side, even Gimbler. Now, I could not act against Brodribb’s wishes, and there was no need. I had given the other side their chance, and they didn’t choose to take it.”
“So now,” said Miller, “you want, in effect, to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. And I am the hounds. Isn’t that the position?”
Thorndyke regarded the Superintendent with an appreciative smile. “Very neatly put, Miller,” said he, “and I won’t deny that it does seem to state the position. Nevertheless, I am going to ask you to help me, and to take on trust my assurance that, if you act on what I will call my suggestions, you will, in your official capacity, ‘learn something to your advantage,’ as the solicitors express it.”
“Still,” urged Miller, “if you don’t care to let the cat out of the bag, you might at least show us her head, or even her tail, so that we may see what sort of animal is in the bag.”
Once more, Thorndyke reflected for a few moments before replying. At length he said: “I fully appreciate your difficulty, Miller. You can’t, as a detective officer, start an investigation in the air. But you have known me long enough to feel certain that I should not send you off in search of a mare’s nest.”
“I am quite clear on that point,” Miller agreed, warmly. “I only want reasonable cover.”
“Very well,” rejoined Thorndyke; “I can give you that, if you will take my information on trust without the production of evidence.”
“Let’s hear the information,” said Miller, cautiously.
“It is this,” said Thorndyke; “and I am prepared to give you the information in writing, if you want it.”
“I don’t,” said Miller. “I only want a definite statement.”
“Then,” said Thorndyke, “I will give you one. I declare, positively, that, if this is the original coffin, it has, at some time after the date of the burial, as set forth on the tomb and on the coffin, been opened and reclosed; and that the objects which we have found in it are not its original contents. But I am of opinion that this is not the original coffin, but a new coffin substituted with the intent to commit a fraud. Will that do for you?”
“Yes,” replied Miller. “That is good enough for a start; and not a bad start, either. If there has been a fraudulent substitution for the purpose of obtaining possession of valuable property, that brings the matter fairly within my province. And, what is more, it seems to bring Mr. Horatio Gimbler within reach of my claws. But I have a sort of feeling that this faked coffin is not the whole of the business. How’s that for a guess?”
“I will say, as the children say in the game of Hot Boiled Beans, that you are ‘getting warm.’ And I would rather not say any more. I want to start you on an independent investigation and keep out of it, myself, as counsel in this case. But I shall expect that, if you bring any facts to light that have a bearing on that case, you will bring them to my notice.”
At this, Miller turned to me with a chuckle of delight.
“Just listen to him, Dr. Jervis!” he exclaimed, waggishly. “Isn’t it as good as a play? He stipulates that I shall bring the facts to his notice; when you and I know perfectly well that he has got the whole pack of cards up his sleeve at this very moment. I wouldn’t use the word ‘humbug’ in connexion with a gentleman for whom I have such a profound respect. But—well, what do you want me to do, Doctor?”
“The first thing,” said Thorndyke, “is to get rid of those two men. We don’t want any witnesses. As this ground is closed
for burials and is not open to the public, there is no reason why you should not take possession of the keys. You will want to seal the vault and to have access to it in case any further inspection is necessary. The beadle won’t make any difficulty.”
He did not. On the contrary, he accepted his release gratefully and gave up the keys without a word. But, before dismissing the men, we replaced the coffin on the shelf, and, for the sake of appearances, we returned the lead to its interior and laid the lid on top.
“There is no need to screw it down,” the Superintendent explained. “It may have to be re-examined, and I am going to seal up the vault.”
With this he sent the two men off with a small donation for the provision of refreshments, accompanying them to the gate and watching their disappearance down the street. Then they were out of sight, he signalled to the driver of his car—a big, roomy, official vehicle—and, when it had drawn up at the gate, he returned, and we began operations.
“I understand,” said he, as we lifted off the coffin lid, “that we have got to shift this stuff to some assayist’s.”
“I don’t think we need take the sheet lead,” said Thorndyke, “though that would furnish the best evidence on the question of age.”
“Then let’s take the whole boiling,” said Miller. “May as well do the thing thoroughly.”
Accordingly, he seized the roll of lead and carried it to the gate, where he deposited it on the rear seat of the car. I followed with the biggest of the pot-leavings. The driver of the car came back with Miller, and he, Miller and Thorndyke took the other three leavings. The whole collection took up a good deal of the accommodation; but Thorndyke occupied the seat next to the driver, in order to give directions, and Miller and I packed ourselves in amongst the lead as well as we could.
“I wish the Doctor wasn’t so deuced secretive,” Miller remarked, as the car trundled away westward with a misleading leisurely air. “Of course, it doesn’t really matter as we shall know all about it presently; but I am on tenterhooks of curiosity.”
“So am I, for that matter,” said I; “but I am used to it. To work with Thorndyke is a fine training in restraint.”
After what seemed an incredibly short journey, we drew up at a large building in Bishopsgate. Here Thorndyke alighted and disappeared into the entry; and the Superintendent’s patience was subjected to a further trial. At length, our friend re-appeared, accompanied by an alert-looking elderly gentleman, while three workmen in white aprons emerged from the doorway and lurked in the background. The elderly gentleman, whom I recognized as a Mr. Daniels, a very eminent assayist and metallurgist, approached, and, when he had been introduced to Miller, stuck his head in at the window of the car and surveyed our collection.
“So that’s the stuff you want an opinion on,” said he. “Queer-looking lot. However, the first thing to do is to get it moved up to the laboratory.”
He made a sign to his three myrmidons, who forthwith came forward, and, grabbing up the ponderous samples, tucked them under their arms as if they had been lumps of cork and strolled off into the building. We followed them through the weighing rooms on the ground floor to a staircase and up to one of the great laboratories, flanked on one side by a row of tall windows, and on the other by a long range of cupel furnaces. Here, on a bench under the windows, our treasures had been dumped down, and, once more, Mr. Daniels ran his eye over them.
“What’s the problem with regard to this?” he asked, indicating the roll of lead.
“It is merely a question of age,” replied Thorndyke. “We can leave that for the present.”
“And what is this?” asked Daniels, lifting the large pot-remainder and turning it over in his hands.
“It is supposed to be lead, eighty years old,” said Thorndyke.
“Well, it may be,” said Daniels, laying it down and giving it a tap with a hammer and eliciting the dull sound characteristic of lead. “And what are these other lumps supposed to be?”
“They are supposed to be lead, too,” replied Thorndyke.
“Well, they are not,” said Daniels. “Anyone can see that.” He gave one of them a tap with the hammer, and the peculiar sharp chink spoke at once of a hard, brittle metal. On this, he laid down the hammer and took the lump of metal in his hands. And then there came over him the very change that I had noticed in the case of Thorndyke, though there was now no disguise. As he lifted the mass of metal, he suddenly paused and stood quite still with his eyes fixed on Thorndyke and his mouth slightly open. Then he said: “You knew that this was not lead, Doctor.”
“Yes,” Thorndyke admitted.
“What do you suppose it is?”
“I don’t suppose,” said Thorndyke. “I have brought the Superintendent to you in order that you may ascertain what it is and give him a confidential report on the subject.”
“What do you suppose it is?” asked Miller.
“I don’t suppose either,” replied Daniels with a faint grin. “I am an assayist, and it is my business to find out.”
The Superintendent smiled sourly and looked at me. “These men of science don’t mean to give themselves away,” he remarked.
“Well,” said Daniels, “what is the use of guessing, and perhaps guessing wrong, when you are going to make a test? We have our reputations to consider. Now, what do you want me to do about this stuff?”
“The Superintendent,” said Thorndyke, “wants you to make a trial assay, just to let him know what the material is. You will report to him what you find; and remember, this is a confidential matter, and the Superintendent, acting for the Criminal Investigation Department, is your employer.”
“And what about you?” Daniels asked.
“If the matter concerns me in any way,” Thorndyke replied, “I have no doubt that the Superintendent will communicate the substance of your report to me.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Daniels, with a broad smile, “and what a surprise it will be to you. Ha! Ha!”
“Yes,” growled Miller; “the Doctor is a regular impostor. Of course, he knows all about it, without either of us telling him. How long will this job take?”
“It will take some little time,” replied Daniels, “as you will want some sort of rough estimate of quantities besides the mere qualitative test. Will five o’clock do? And shall I report to you on the phone?”
Miller considered the question. “I am not fond of telephone messages on confidential business,” said he. “You never know who is at the other end, or in the middle. I think I had better run across in the car. Then we can go into the affair in more detail, and safe from eavesdroppers. If I am here at five o’clock, I can depend on getting your report?”
“Yes; I shall have everything cut and dried by then,” Daniels assured him; and, the arrangements being thus concluded, we shook hands and took our departure.
As we emerged into Bishopsgate, I noticed that Miller seemed to look a little disparagingly at the big car that was drawn up at the curb, and, instead of entering at once, he turned to Thorndyke and asked:
“What do you say, Doctor, to walking home? There are one or two matters connected with this case that I should like to talk over with you, and the car isn’t very convenient; and then there is the driver. We could talk more freely if we walked.”
Naturally, Thorndyke, who was an inveterate pedestrian, agreed readily; and, when Miller had informed the driver of our decision, we set forth, shortening the distance and securing more quiet by striking “across country” through the by-streets. As soon as we were clear of the main thoroughfare with its bustle and din, Miller proceeded to open the discussion.
“I suppose, Doctor, you are quite clear that there has been some faking of that coffin? You’ve got something solid to go on?”
“Yes,” was the reply, “I have no doubt on the subject, and I am prepared to say so in the witness-box.”
“That seems to settle it,” said Miller. “But there are some queer features in the case. You saw the dust in the vault? But I kno
w you did, for I spotted you taking samples of it. But it really did look as if it had not been disturbed for the best part of a century. Was there anything in that dust that looked to you suspicious, or did you take those samples just as a routine precaution?”
“I should have taken a sample in any case,” replied Thorndyke. “But in this case, it was not merely a routine precaution. That dust did not appear to me to agree with the conditions in which it was found. The dust that would accumulate in the course of eighty years in a vault above ground would be very miscellaneous in its origin. It would consist of particles of all sorts of materials which were light enough to float in the air, and in still air at that. They would he mostly minute fragments of fibres derived from textiles, and these would naturally be of all sorts of different colours. The result of such a miscellaneous mixture of different-coloured particles, aided by the fading effect of time, would be a dust of a completely neutral grey. But this dust was not of a completely neutral grey. It had a recognizable colour; very faint and very nearly neutral, but yet there was just a shadowy trace of red. And this subtle, almost indistinguishable, tint of red pervaded the whole mass. It was all alike. To what the colour may have been due, I cannot judge until I have examined the sample under the microscope; but the suggestion—the very strong suggestion—is that this dust was all derived from the same source; which, as I have said, is irreconcilable with the ostensible conditions.”
Thorndyke’s explanation seemed to furnish the Superintendent with considerable food for thought, for he made no immediate answer, but appeared to be wrapped in profound cogitation. At length, he remarked:
“You are a wonderful man, Doctor. Nothing seems to escape you, and you let nothing pass without consideration and a confirmatory test. I wish, now, that we had put you on that damned head—you know the one I mean—the human head that was found in a case at Fenchurch Street Station.”
“I remember,” said Thorndyke. “It was an odd affair, but I fancy that the head was only a by-product. The purpose of the man who left it was to get possession of the case containing property worth several thousand pounds. He happened to have a human head on his hands, and he, very wisely, took the opportunity to get rid of it and so kill two birds with one stone.”
The Third R. Austin Freeman Megapack Page 148
