“I am at your service, Colonel,” I replied, as I pointed to a seat, and began to feel a deep interest in the man, for there was an individuality about him that stamped him at once as a somewhat remarkable person. His voice was in keeping with his looks. It was firm, decisive, and full of volume, and attracted one by its resonance. I felt at once that such a man was not likely to give himself much concern about trifles, and, therefore, the business he had come about must be of considerable importance. So, pushing the papers I had been engaged upon on one side, I turned my revolving chair so that I might face him and have my back to the light, and telling him that I was prepared to listen to anything he had to say, I half closed my eyes, and began to make a study of him.
“I will be as brief as possible,” he began, as he placed his highly polished hat and his umbrella on the table. “I am a military man, and have spent much of my time in India, but two years ago I returned home, and took up my residence at The Manor, Esher. Twice since I went to live there the place has been robbed in a somewhat mysterious manner. The first occasion was a little over a year ago, when a number of antique silver cups were stolen. The Scotland Yard authorities endeavoured to trace the thieves, but failed.”
“I think I remember hearing something about that robbery,” I remarked, as I tried to recall the details. “But in what way was it a mysterious one?”
“Because it was impossible to determine how the thieves gained access to the house. The place had not been broken into.”
“How about your servants?” I asked.
“Oh, I haven’t a servant who isn’t honesty itself.”
“Pray proceed. What about the second robbery?”
“That is what I have come to you about. It is a very serious business indeed, and has been carried out in the mysterious way that characterised the first one.”
“You mean it is serious as regards the value of the property stolen?”
“In one sense, yes; but it is something more than that. During my stay in India I rendered very considerable service indeed to the Rajah of Mooltan, a man of great wealth. Before I left India he presented me with a souvenir of a very extraordinary character. It was nothing more nor less than the skull of one of his ancestors.”
As it seemed to me a somewhat frivolous matter for the colonel to take up my time because he had lost the mouldy old skull of a dead-and-gone rajah, I said, “Excuse me, Colonel, but you can hardly expect me to devote my energies to tracing this somewhat gruesome souvenir of yours, which probably the thief will hasten to bury as speedily as possible, unless he happens to be of a very morbid turn of mind.”
“You are a little premature,” said the colonel, with a suspicion of sternness. “That skull has been valued at upwards of twelve thousand pounds.”
“Twelve thousand pounds!” I echoed, as my interest in my visitor deepened.
“Yes, sir; twelve thousand pounds. It is fashioned into a drinking goblet, bound with solid gold bands, and encrusted with precious stones. In the bottom of the goblet, inside, is a diamond of the purest water, and which alone is said to be worth two thousand pounds. Now, quite apart from the intrinsic value of this relic, it has associations for me which are beyond price, and further than that, my friend the rajah told me that if ever I parted with it, or it was stolen, ill fortune would ever afterwards pursue me. Now, Mr. Donovan, I am not a superstitious man, but I confess that in this instance I am weak enough to believe that the rajah’s words will come true, and that some strange calamity will befall either me or mine.”
“Without attaching any importance to that,” I answered, “I confess that it is a serious business, and I will do what I can to recover this extraordinary goblet. But you say you leave for Egypt tomorrow?”
“Yes. I am going out on a government commission, and shall probably be absent six months.”
“Then I had better travel down to Esher with you at once, as I like to start at the fountain-head in such matters.”
The colonel was most anxious that I should do this, and, requesting him to wait for a few minutes, I retired to my inner sanctum, and when I reappeared it was in the character of a venerable parson, with flowing grey hair, spectacles, and the orthodox white choker. My visitor did not recognise me until I spoke, and then he requested to know why I had transformed myself in such a manner.
I told him I had a particular reason for it, but felt it was advisable not to reveal the reason then, and I enjoined on him the necessity of supporting me in the character I had assumed, for I considered it important that none of his household should know that I was a detective. I begged that he would introduce me as the Rev. John Marshall, from the Midland Counties. He promised to do this, and we took the next train down to Esher.
The Manor was a quaint old mansion, and dated back to the commencement of Queen Elizabeth’s reign. The colonel had bought the property, and being somewhat of an antiquarian, he had allowed it to remain in its original state, so far as the actual building was concerned. But he had had it done up inside a little, and furnished in great taste in the Elizabethan style, and instead of the walls being papered they were hung with tapestry.
I found that besides the goblet some antique rings and a few pieces of gold and silver had been carried off. But these things were of comparatively small value, and the colonel’s great concern was about the lost skull, which had been kept under a glass shade in what he called his “Treasure Chamber.” It was a small room, lighted by an oriel window. The walls were wainscoted half way up, and the upper part was hung with tapestry. In this room there was a most extraordinary and miscellaneous collection of things, including all kinds of Indian weapons; elephant trappings; specimens of clothing as worn by the Indian nobility; jewellery, including rings, bracelets, anklets; in fact, it was a veritable museum of very great interest and value.
The colonel assured me that the door of this room was always kept locked, and the key was never out of his possession. The lower part of the chimney of the old-fashioned fireplace, I noticed, was protected by iron bars let into the masonry, so that the thief, I was sure, did not come down the chimney; nor did he come in at the window, for it only opened at each side, and the apertures were so small that a child could not have squeezed through. Having noted these things, I hinted to the colonel that the thief had probably gained access to the room by means of a duplicate key. But he hastened to assure me that the lock was of singular construction, having been specially made. There were only two keys to it. One he always carried about with him, the other he kept in a secret drawer in an old escritoire in his library, and he was convinced that nobody knew of its existence. He explained the working of the lock, and also showed me the key, which was the most remarkable key I ever saw; and, after examining the lock, I came to the conclusion that it could not be opened by any means apart from the special key. Nevertheless the thief had succeeded in getting into the room. How did he manage it? That was the problem I had to solve, and that done I felt that I should be able to get a clue to the robber. I told the colonel that before leaving the house I should like to see every member of his household, and he said I should be able to see the major portion of them at luncheon, which he invited me to partake of.
I found that his family consisted of his wife—an Anglo-Indian lady—three charming daughters, his eldest son, Ronald Odell, a young man about four-and-twenty, and a younger son, a youth of twelve. The family were waited upon at table by two parlour-maids, the butler, and a page-boy. The butler was an elderly, sedate, gentlemanly-looking man; the boy had an open, frank face, and the same remark applied to the two girls. As I studied them I saw nothing calculated to raise my suspicions in any way. Indeed, I felt instinctively that I could safely pledge myself for their honesty.
When the luncheon was over the colonel produced cigars, and the ladies and the youngest boy having retired, the host, his son Ronald, and I ensconced ourselves in comfortable chairs, and proceeded to
smoke. Ronald Odell was a most extraordinary-looking young fellow. He had been born and brought up in India, and seemed to suffer from an unconquerable lassitude that gave him a lifeless, insipid appearance. He was very dark, with dreamy, languid eyes, and an expressionless face of a peculiar sallowness. He was tall and thin, with hands that were most noticeable, owing to the length, flexibility, and thinness of the fingers. He sat in the chair with his body huddled up as it were; his long legs stretched straight out before him; his pointed chin resting on his chest, while he seemed to smoke his cigar as if unconscious of what he was doing.
It was natural that the robbery should form a topic of conversation as we smoked and sipped some excellent claret, and at last I turned to the colonel, and said:
“It seems to me that there is a certain mystery about this robbery which is very puzzling. But, now, don’t you think it’s probable that somebody living under your roof holds the key to the mystery?”
“God bless my life, no!” answered the colonel with emphatic earnestness. “I haven’t a servant in the house but that I would trust with my life!”
“What is your view of the case, Mr. Ronald?” I said, turning to the son.
Without raising his head, he answered in a lisping, drawling, dreamy way:
“It’s a queer business; and I don’t think the governor will ever get his skull back.”
“I hope you will prove incorrect in that,” I said. “My impression is that, if the colonel puts the matter into the hands of some clever detective, the mystery will be solved.”
“No,” drawled the young fellow, “there isn’t a detective fellow in London capable of finding out how that skull was stolen, and where it has been taken to. Not even Dick Donovan, who is said to have no rival in his line.”
I think my face coloured a little as he unwittingly paid me this compliment. Though my character for the nonce was that of a clergyman I did not enter into any argument with him; but merely remarked that I thought he was wrong. At any rate, I hoped so, for his father’s sake.
Master Ronald made no further remark, but remained silent for some time, and seemingly so absorbed in his own reflections that he took no notice of the conversation carried on by me and his father; and presently, having finished his cigar, he rose, stretched his long, flexible body, and without a word left the room.
“You mustn’t take any notice of my son,” said the colonel, apologetically. “He is very queer in his manners, for he is constitutionally weak, and has peculiar ideas about things in general. He dislikes clergymen, for one thing, and that is the reason, no doubt, why he has been so boorish towards you. For, of course, he is deceived by your garb, as all in the house are, excepting myself and wife. I felt it advisable to tell her who you are, in order to prevent her asking you any awkward questions that you might not be prepared to answer.”
I smiled as I told him I had made a study of the various characters I was called upon to assume in pursuit of my calling, and that I was generally able to talk the character as well as dress it.
A little later he conducted me downstairs, in order that I might see the rest of the servants, consisting of a most amiable cook, whose duties appeared to agree with her remarkably well, and three other women, including a scullery-maid; while in connection with the stables were a coachman, a groom, and a boy.
Having thus passed the household in review, as it were, I next requested that I might be allowed to spend a quarter of an hour or so alone in the room from whence the skull and other things had been stolen. Whilst in the room with the colonel I had formed an opinion which I felt it desirable to keep to myself, and my object in asking to visit the room alone was to put this opinion to the test.
The floor was of dark old oak, polished and waxed, and there was not a single board that was movable. Having satisfied myself of that fact, I next proceeded to examine the wainscoting with the greatest care, and after going over every inch of it, I came to a part that gave back a hollow sound to my raps. I experienced a strange sense of delight as I discovered this, for it, so far, confirmed me in my opinion that the room had been entered by a secret door, and here was evidence of a door. The antiquity of the house and the oak panelling had had something to do with this opinion, for I knew that in old houses of the kind secret doors were by no means uncommon.
Although I was convinced that the panel which gave back a hollow sound when rapped was a door, I could detect no means of opening it. Save that it sounded hollow, it was exactly like the other panels, and there was no appearance of any lock or spring, and as the time I had stipulated for had expired, I rejoined the colonel, and remarked to him incidentally:
“I suppose there is no way of entering that room except by the doorway from the landing?”
“Oh no, certainly not. The window is too small, and the chimney is barred, as you know, for I saw you examining it.”
My object in asking the question was to see if he suspected in any way the existence of a secret door; but it was now very obvious that he did nothing of the kind, and I did not deem it advisable to tell him of my own suspicions.
“You say you are obliged to depart for Egypt tomorrow, Colonel?” I asked.
“Yes. I start tomorrow night.”
“Then I must ask you to give me carte blanche in this matter.”
“Oh, certainly.”
“And in order to facilitate my plans it would be as well to make a confidante of Mrs. Odell. The rest you must leave to me.”
“What do you think the chances are of discovering the thief?” he asked, with a dubious expression.
“I shall discover him,” I answered emphatically. Whereupon the colonel looked more than surprised, and proceeded to rattle off a string of questions with the object of learning why I spoke so decisively. But I was compelled to tell him that I could give him no reason, for though I had worked out a theory which intuitively I believed to be right, I had not at that moment a shred of acceptable proof in support of my theory, and that therefore I could not commit myself to raising suspicions against anyone until I was prepared to do something more than justify them.
He seemed rather disappointed, although he admitted the soundness of my argument.
“By the way, Colonel,” I said, as I was about to take my departure, after having had a talk with his wife, “does it so happen that there is anything the matter with the roof of your house?”
“Not that I am aware of,” he answered, opening his eyes wide with amazement at what no doubt seemed to him an absurd question. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I want to go on the roof without attracting the attention of anyone.”
“Let us go at once, then,” he said eagerly.
“No, not now. But I see that the greater part of the roof is flat, and leaded. Now, in the course of two or three days I shall present myself here in the guise of a plumber, and I shall be obliged by your giving orders that I am to be allowed to ascend to the roof without let or hindrance, as the lawyers say.”
“Oh, certainly I will; but it seems to me an extraordinary proceeding,” he exclaimed.
I told him that many things necessarily seemed extraordinary when the reasons for them were not understood, and with that remark I took my departure, having promised the colonel to do everything mortal man could do to recover the lost skull.
Three days later I went down to the Manor disguised as a working plumber, and was admitted without any difficulty, as the colonel had left word that a man was coming down from London to examine the roof. As a servant was showing me upstairs to the top landing, where a trap-door in the ceiling gave access to the leads, I passed Ronald Odell on the stairs. He was attired in a long dressing-gown, had Turkish slippers on his feet, a fez on his head, and a cigar in his mouth, from which he was puffing great volumes of smoke. His face was almost ghastly in its pallor, and his eyes had the same dreamy look which I had noticed on my first visit. H
is hands were thrust deep in his pockets, and his movements and manner were suggestive of a person walking in his sleep, rather than a waking conscious man. This suggestion was heightened by the fact that before I could avoid him he ran full butt against me. That, however, seemed to partially arouse him from his lethargic condition, and turning round, with a fierceness of expression that I scarcely deemed him capable of, he exclaimed:
“You stupid fool, why don’t you look where you are going to?”
I muttered out an apology, and he strode down the stairs growling to himself.
“Who is that?” I asked of the servant.
“That’s the master’s eldest son.”
“He is a queer-looking fellow.”
“I should think he was,” answered the girl with a sniggering laugh. “I should say he has a slate off.”
“Well, upon my word I should be inclined to agree with you,” I remarked. “What does he do?”
“Nothing but smoke the greater part of the day.”
“Does he follow no business or profession?”
“Not that I know of; though he generally goes out between six and seven in the evening, and does not come back till late.”
“Where does he go to?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He doesn’t tell us servants his affairs. But there’s something very queer about him. I don’t like his looks at all.”
“Doesn’t his father exercise any control over him?”
“Not a bit of it. Why, his father dotes on him, and would try and get the moon for him if he wanted it.”
“And what about his mother?”
“Well, her favourite is young Master Tom. He’s a nice lad, now, as different again to his brother. In fact, I think the missus is afraid of Mr. Ronald. He doesn’t treat his mother at all well. And now that the colonel has gone away we shall all have a pretty time of it. He’s a perfect demon in the house when his father is not here.”
As we had now reached the ladder that gave access to the trap-door in the roof, I requested the maid to wait while I went outside.
The Big Book of Victorian Mysteries Page 15
