Four Max Carrados Detective Stories

by Ernest Bramah

do we proceed?"

  "In that case I am afraid that I might have to trouble you toestablish your identity," the manager explained. "It rarely happens."

  "Then we will say 'Conspiracy.'"

  The word was written down and the book closed.

  "Here is your key, sir. If you will allow me--your key-ring--"

  A week went by and Carrados was no nearer the absolute solution of theproblem he had set himself. He had, indeed, evolved several ways bywhich the contents of the safes might be reached, some simple anddesperate, hanging on the razor-edge of chance to fall this way orthat; others more elaborate, safer on the whole, but more liable tobreak down at some point of their ingenious intricacy. And settingaside complicity on the part of the manager--a condition that Carradoshad satisfied himself did not exist--they all depended on a relaxationof the forms by which security was assured. Carrados continued to haveseveral occasions to visit the safe during the week, and he "watched"with a quiet persistence that was deadly in its scope. But frombeginning to end there was no indication of slackness in thebusiness-like methods of the place; nor during any of his visits didthe "tawny man" appear in that or any other disguise. Another weekpassed; Mr. Carlyle was becoming inexpressibly waggish, and Carradoshimself, although he did not abate a jot of his conviction, wascompelled to bend to the realities of the situation. The manager, withthe obstinacy of a conscientious man who had become obsessed with thepervading note of security, excused himself from discussing abstractmethods of fraud. Carrados was not in a position to formulate adetailed charge; he withdrew from active investigation, content toawait his time.

  It came, to be precise, on a certain Friday morning, seventeen daysafter his first visit to "The Safe." Returning late on the Thursdaynight, he was informed that a man giving the name of Draycott hadcalled to see him. Apparently the matter had been of some importanceto the visitor for he had returned three hours later on the chance offinding Mr. Carrados in. Disappointed in this, he had left a note.Carrados cut open the envelope and ran a finger along the followingwords:--

  "_Dear Sir_,--I have to-day consulted Mr. Louis Carlyle, who thinksthat you would like to see me. I will call again in the morning, sayat nine o'clock. If this is too soon or otherwise inconvenient Ientreat you to leave a message fixing as early an hour as possible.

  "Yours faithfully,

  "_Herbert Draycott_.

  "_P.S._--I should add that I am the renter of a safe at the LucasStreet depository. _H.D._"

  A description of Mr. Draycott made it clear that he was not theWest-End bookmaker. The caller, the servant explained, was a thin,wiry, keen-faced man. Carrados felt agreeably interested in thisdevelopment, which seemed to justify his suspicion of a plot.

  At five minutes to nine the next morning Mr. Draycott again presentedhimself.

  "Very good of you to see me so soon, sir," he apologized, on Carradosat once receiving him. "I don't know much of English ways--I'm anAustralian--and I was afraid it might be too early."

  "You could have made it a couple of hours earlier as far as I amconcerned," replied Carrados. "Or you either for that matter, Iimagine," he added, "for I don't think that you slept much lastnight."

  "I didn't sleep at all last night," corrected Mr. Draycott. "But it'sstrange that you should have seen that. I understood from Mr. Carlylethat you--excuse me if I am mistaken, sir--but I understood that youwere blind."

  Carrados laughed his admission lightly.

  "Oh yes," he said. "But never mind that. What is the trouble?"

  "I'm afraid it means more than just trouble for me, Mr. Carrados." Theman had steady, half-closed eyes, with the suggestion of depth whichone notices in the eyes of those whose business it is to look out overgreat expanses of land or water; they were turned towards Carrados'sface with quiet resignation in their frankness now. "I'm afraid itspells disaster. I am a working engineer from the Mount Magdalenadistrict of Coolgardie. I don't want to take up your time with outsidedetails, so I will only say that about two years ago I had anopportunity of acquiring a share in a very promising claim--gold, youunderstand, both reef and alluvial. As the work went on I put more andmore into the undertaking--you couldn't call it a venture by thattime. The results were good, better than we had dared to expect, butfrom one cause and another the expenses were terrible. We saw that itwas a bigger thing than we had bargained for and we admitted that wemust get outside help."

  So far Mr. Draycott's narrative had proceeded smoothly enough underthe influence of the quiet despair that had come over the man. But atthis point a sudden recollection of his position swept him into afrenzy of bitterness.

  "Oh, what the blazes is the good of going over all this again!" hebroke out. "What can you or anyone else do anyhow? I've been robbed,rooked, cleared out of everything I possess," and tormented byrecollections and by the impotence of his rage the unfortunateengineer beat the oak table with the back of his hand until hisknuckles bled.

  Carrados waited until the fury had passed.

  "Continue, if you please, Mr. Draycott," he said. "Just what youthought it best to tell me is just what I want to know."

  "I'm sorry, sir," apologized the man, colouring under his tanned skin."I ought to be able to control myself better. But this business hasshaken me. Three times last night I looked down the barrel of myrevolver, and three times I threw it away.... Well, we arranged that Ishould come to London to interest some financiers in the property. Wemight have done it locally or in Perth, to be sure, but then, don'tyou see, they would have wanted to get control. Six weeks ago I landedhere. I brought with me specimens of the quartz and good samples ofextracted gold, dust and nuggets, the clearing up of several weeks'working, about two hundred and forty ounces in all. That includes theMagdalena Lodestar, our lucky nugget, a lump weighing just under sevenpounds of pure gold.

  "I had seen an advertisement of this Lucas Street safe-deposit and itseemed just the thing I wanted. Besides the gold, I had all the papersto do with the claims--plans, reports, receipts, licences and so on.Then when I cashed my letter of credit I had about one hundred andfifty pounds in notes. Of course I could have left everything at abank, but it was more convenient to have it, as it were, in my ownsafe, to get at any time, and to have a private room that I could takeany gentlemen to. I hadn't a suspicion that anything could be wrong.Negotiations hung on in several quarters--it's a bad time to dobusiness here, I find. Then, yesterday, I wanted something. I went toLucas Street, as I had done half-a-dozen times before, opened my safe,and had the inner case carried to a room.... Mr. Carrados, it wasempty!"

  "Quite empty?"

  "No." He laughed bitterly. "At the bottom was a sheet of wrapperpaper. I recognized it as a piece I had left there in case I wanted tomake up a parcel. But for that I should have been convinced that I hadsomehow opened the wrong safe. That was my first idea."

  "It cannot be done."

  "So I understand, sir. And, then, there was the paper with my namewritten on it in the empty tin. I was dazed; it seemed impossible. Ithink I stood there without moving for minutes--it was more likehours. Then I closed the tin box again, took it back, locked up thesafe and came out."

  "Without notifying anything wrong?"

  "Yes, Mr. Carrados." The steady blue eyes regarded him with painedthoughtfulness. "You see, I reckoned it out in that time that it mustbe someone about the place who had done it."

  "You were wrong," said Carrados.

  "So Mr. Carlyle seemed to think. I only knew that the key had neverbeen out of my possession and I had told no one of the password. Well,it did come over me rather like cold water down the neck, that therewas I alone in the strongest dungeon in London and not a living soulknew where I was."

  "Possibly a sort of up-to-date Sweeney Todd's?"

  "I'd heard of such things in London," admitted Draycott. "Anyway, Igot out. It was a mistake; I see it now. Who is to believe me as itis--it sounds a sort of unlikely tale. And how do they come to pick onme? to know what I had? I don't drink, or open my mouth, or hellround.
It beats me."

  "They didn't pick on you--you picked on them," replied Carrados."Never mind how; you'll be believed all right. But as for gettinganything back--" The unfinished sentence confirmed Mr. Draycott in hisgloomiest anticipations.

  "I have the numbers of the notes," he suggested, with an attempt athopefulness. "They can be stopped, I take it?"

  "Stopped? Yes," admitted Carrados. "And what does that amount to? Thebanks and the police stations will be notified and every littlepublic-house between here and Land's End will change one for thescribbling of 'John