Four Max Carrados Detective Stories

by Ernest Bramah

the card which you havebefore you."

  "I beg your pardon," said Mr. Carrados, with perfect good-humour. "Ihadn't seen it. But I used to know a Calling some years ago--at St.Michael's."

  "St. Michael's!" Mr. Carlyle's features underwent another change, noless instant and sweeping than before. "St. Michael's! Wynn Carrados?Good heavens! it isn't Max Wynn--old 'Winning' Wynn"?

  "A little older and a little fatter--yes," replied Carrados. "I havechanged my name you see."

  "Extraordinary thing meeting like this," said his visitor, droppinginto a chair and staring hard at Mr. Carrados. "I have changed morethan my name. How did you recognize me?"

  "The voice," replied Carrados. "It took me back to that littlesmoke-dried attic den of yours where we--"

  "My God!" exclaimed Carlyle bitterly, "don't remind me of what we weregoing to do in those days." He looked round the well-furnished,handsome room and recalled the other signs of wealth that he hadnoticed. "At all events, you seem fairly comfortable, Wynn."

  "I am alternately envied and pitied," replied Carrados, with a placidtolerance of circumstance that seemed characteristic of him. "Still,as you say, I am fairly comfortable."

  "Envied, I can understand. But why are you pitied?"

  "Because I am blind," was the tranquil reply.

  "Blind!" exclaimed Mr. Carlyle, using his own eyes superlatively. "Doyou mean--literally blind?"

  "Literally.... I was riding along a bridle-path through a wood about adozen years ago with a friend. He was in front. At one point a twigsprang back--you know how easily a thing like that happens. It justflicked my eye--nothing to think twice about."

  "And that blinded you?"

  "Yes, ultimately. It's called amaurosis."

  "I can scarcely believe it. You seem so sure and self-reliant. Youreyes are full of expression--only a little quieter than they used tobe. I believe you were typing when I came....Aren't you having me?"

  "You miss the dog and the stick?" smiled Carrados. "No; it's a fact."

  "What an awful affliction for you, Max. You were always such animpulsive, reckless sort of fellow--never quiet. You must miss such afearful lot."

  "Has anyone else recognized you?" asked Carrados quietly.

  "Ah, that was the voice, you said," replied Carlyle.

  "Yes; but other people heard the voice as well. Only I had noblundering, self-confident eyes to be hoodwinked."

  "That's a rum way of putting it," said Carlyle. "Are your ears neverhoodwinked, may I ask?"

  "Not now. Nor my fingers. Nor any of my other senses that have to lookout for themselves."

  "Well, well," murmured Mr. Carlyle, cut short in his sympatheticemotions. "I'm glad you take it so well. Of course, if you find it anadvantage to be blind, old man----" He stopped and reddened. "I begyour pardon," he concluded stiffly.

  "Not an advantage perhaps," replied the other thoughtfully. "Still ithas compensations that one might not think of. A new world to explore,new experiences, new powers awakening; strange new perceptions; lifein the fourth dimension. But why do you beg my pardon, Louis?"

  "I am an ex-solicitor, struck off in connexion with the falsifying ofa trust account, Mr. Carrados," replied Carlyle, rising.

  "Sit down, Louis," said Carrados suavely. His face, even hisincredibly living eyes, beamed placid good-nature. "The chair on whichyou will sit, the roof above you, all the comfortable surroundings towhich you have so amiably alluded, are the direct result of falsifyinga trust account. But do I call you 'Mr. Carlyle' in consequence?Certainly not, Louis."

  "I did not falsify the account," cried Carlyle hotly. He sat downhowever, and added more quietly: "But why do I tell you all this? Ihave never spoken of it before."

  "Blindness invites confidence," replied Carrados. "We are out of therunning--human rivalry ceases to exist. Besides, why shouldn't you? Inmy case the account _was_ falsified."

  "Of course that's all bunkum, Max" commented Carlyle. "Still, Iappreciate your motive."

  "Practically everything I possess was left to me by an Americancousin, on the condition that I took the name of Carrados. He made hisfortune by an ingenious conspiracy of doctoring the crop reports andunloading favourably in consequence. And I need hardly remind you thatthe receiver is equally guilty with the thief."

  "But twice as safe. I know something of that, Max ... Have you anyidea what my business is?"

  "You shall tell me," replied Carrados.

  "I run a private inquiry agency. When I lost my profession I had to dosomething for a living. This occurred. I dropped my name, changed myappearance and opened an office. I knew the legal side down to theground and I got a retired Scotland Yard man to organize the outsidework."

  "Excellent!" cried Carrados. "Do you unearth many murders?"

  "No," admitted Mr. Carlyle; "our business lies mostly on theconventional lines among divorce and defalcation."

  "That's a pity," remarked Carrados. "Do you know, Louis, I always hada secret ambition to be a detective myself. I have even thought latelythat I might still be able to do something at it if the chance came myway. That makes you smile?"

  "Well, certainly, the idea----"

  "Yes, the idea of a blind detective--the blind tracking the alert--"

  "Of course, as you say, certain facilities are no doubt quickened,"Mr. Carlyle hastened to add considerately, "but, seriously, with theexception of an artist, I don't suppose there is any man who is moreutterly dependent on his eyes."

  Whatever opinion Carrados might have held privately, his genialexterior did not betray a shadow of dissent. For a full minute hecontinued to smoke as though he derived an actual visual enjoymentfrom the blue sprays that travelled and dispersed across the room. Hehad already placed before his visitor a box containing cigars of abrand which that gentleman keenly appreciated but generally regardedas unattainable, and the matter-of-fact ease and certainty with whichthe blind man had brought the box and put it before him had sent aquestioning flicker through Carlyle's mind.

  "You used to be rather fond of art yourself, Louis," he remarkedpresently. "Give me your opinion of my latest purchase--the bronzelion on the cabinet there." Then, as Carlyle's gaze went about theroom, he added quickly: "No, not that cabinet--the one on your left."

  Carlyle shot a sharp glance at his host as he got up, but Carrados'sexpression was merely benignly complacent. Then he strolled across tothe figure.

  "Very nice," he admitted. "Late Flemish, isn't it?"

  "No, It is a copy of Vidal's 'Roaring Lion.'"

  "Vidal?"

  "A French artist." The voice became indescribably flat. "He, also, hadthe misfortune to be blind, by the way."

  "You old humbug, Max!" shrieked Carlyle, "you've been thinking thatout for the last five minutes." Then the unfortunate man bit his lipand turned his back towards his host.

  "Do you remember how we used to pile it up on that obtuse ass Sanders,and then roast him?" asked Carrados, ignoring the half-smotheredexclamation with which the other man had recalled himself.

  "Yes," replied Carlyle quietly. "This is very good," he continued,addressing himself to the bronze again. "How ever did he do it?"

  "With his hands."

  "Naturally. But, I mean, how did he study his model?"

  "Also with his hands. He called it 'seeing near.'"

  "Even with a lion--handled it?"

  "In such cases he required the services of a keeper, who brought theanimal to bay while Vidal exercised his own particular gifts ... Youdon't feel inclined to put me on the track of a mystery, Louis?"

  Unable to regard this request as anything but one of old Max'sunquenchable pleasantries, Mr. Carlyle was on the point of making asuitable reply when a sudden thought caused him to smile knowingly. Upto that point, he had, indeed, completely forgotten the object of hisvisit. Now that he remembered the doubtful Dionysius and Baxter'srecommendation he immediately assumed that some mistake had been made.Either Max was not the Wynn Carrados he had been seeking or else thedealer had been misinformed; for
although his host was wonderfullyexpert in the face of his misfortune, it was inconceivable that hecould decide the genuineness of a coin without seeing it. Theopportunity seemed a good one of getting even with Carrados by takinghim at his word.

  "Yes," he accordingly replied, with crisp deliberation, as here-crossed the room;