"Amazing!" said Anstey; "and all this impressive evidence from a few handfuls of dust!"
"Yes," said Thorndyke, "but we have not finished with the dust. Besides the hairs, we found, as I told you, particles of silicate wool. In the living-room they were few in number and mostly broken quite small by having been repeatedly trodden on. But Polton made a separate operation of the coal-bin; and when we came to examine the dust from that, we found it to consist entirely of coal and silicate wool. And the wool was not only present in large quantities; it consisted to a considerable extent of recognisable lengths of fibre."
"I need hardly ask," said Anstey, "whether you have preserved these tell-tale dust particles for production in evidence?"
"They have all been kept intact," replied Thorndyke, "so that they can be shown direct as well as by enlarged photographs; indeed, all possible exhibits have been carefully preserved. And now, you will be relieved to hear, I am getting near to the completion of my case. Only two more points of evidence remain to be considered, and I will take first that relating to the beginning of the tenancy at Clifford's Inn. I had the particulars from Mr. Weech, and this is what he told me.
"One morning, towards the end of August, 1928, a man came to the lodge to enquire about some chambers that were to let. He thought that Number 64, which was empty, might suit him, so he was given the keys, and presently he returned and announced that the chambers would suit him and that he would like to take a lease of them. But he then explained that he was not taking them for himself but that he was acting as agent for a gentleman of means who was, at the moment, abroad, but wanted a set of chambers made ready for him to come home to. He was fully authorised to execute an agreement, to furnish references, and to pay whatever deposit might be thought necessary.
"As he produced a written authority from his principal, Mr. John Gillum, and referred Weech to Mr. Gillum's solicitor and banker, and was willing to pay a half-year's rent in advance, Weech accepted the tenancy. A provisional agreement was signed, the money paid, the keys handed to the agent to enable him to proceed with the furnishing and repairs, and the transaction was closed with one exception. The agent suggested that the references should not be taken up until Mr. Gillum came into residence."
"Why did he stipulate that?" asked Anstey.
"His explanation—quite a reasonable one—was that Mr. Gillum had lived abroad for some years and had done all his business with his solicitor and banker by correspondence and that neither of them knew him personally. This satisfied Weech arid the agent was allowed to take possession of the chambers and get on with the furnishing and the repairs. And it is interesting to note that those repair included the false bottom to the coal-bin, the fixed window in the larder, and the holes in the larder door."
"What was the agent's name?" Miller asked.
"Weech is a little obscure on that point. He thinks it was either Baker or Barker or Barber."
"But," said Anstey, "there is the agreement with his signature."
"That agreement was destroyed when Gillum arrived and a new one executed."
"Then," said Anstey, "there was the agent's cheque. That ought to be traceable."
"There was no cheque," replied Thorndyke. "The money—twenty-five pounds—was paid in five five-pound notes."
"Then there must have been a receipt."
"There was; but it was made out to John Gillum. Mr. Baker, as we will call him, left no trace whatever. But let us finish with Mr. Weech's story.
"About three weeks after the signing of the agreement—on the seventeenth of September, to be exact—John Gillum came to the Inn, and the circumstances of his arrival were these, as related to Weech by the night porter: That night, between nine and ten, someone knocked at the gate, and when he had opened the wicket, he saw two gentlemen, one of whom was Mr. Baker, whom he had seen once before. Accordingly he let them pass through and they went up the passage. Presently Mr. Baker came back alone and said: 'By the way, that gentleman is Mr. Gillum, the new tenant of Number 64. You might mention to Mr. Weech that he has come."
"The porter did so in the morning, and Mr. Weech then called at the chambers. The door was opened by the man thereafter known as John Gillum; Mr. Weech introduced himself and a new agreement was then executed and, the old one torn up. So the tenancy began, and the mysterious Mr. Baker was seen no more."
"How long did he stay that night?" asked Miller.
"There is no answer to that question. The night porter saw him go back into the Inn, and so far as I can learn he was never seen again."
"Did you get any description of him? "Miller asked.
"Yes," replied Thorndyke. "Weech described him as a tallish man, about his own height—that is, about five feet ten—fair complexioned, with light-brown hair, a tawny beard and moustache and blue eyes; apparently a gentleman with a pleasant, persuasive manner and a rather engaging personality. You notice that if his fair hair and beard had been dyed black, he would have seemed to correspond completely to Mortimer's description of the man whom he knew as John Gillum.
"I now come to the last stage of the investigation, and I must admit that I approached it with some anxiety. For if the result should not be what I expected, I should be left with the greater part of the inquiry to be begun afresh with no data to work from. I had assumed that Dr. Augustus Peck was the personator of John Gillum, and that Mr. Baker and Dr. Peck were one and the same person. If these propositions were true, it followed that Dr. Peck must be a man of about five feet ten inches in height, of blond complexion with blue eyes and light-brown hair. Further more, I should expect him to have some false upper front teeth. If he did not agree with this description, then he could not be the man; and I should have to look for another person to fill the role of personator.
"I need not describe our interview with him at length. When Jervis and I called on him, we were confronted by a rather spare man about five feet ten inches in height with light-brown hair and blue eyes. As he was clean-shaved, the colour of his beard was not ascertainable; but it could reasonably be assumed to agree with that of his hair. While we were conversing I was able to observe his teeth, as he had a short upper lip and showed them a good deal; and it was quite easy to see that there were several false teeth in the upper jaw and that these included the four upper incisors—the very teeth that had contained the gold fillings.
"Thus, you see, Dr. Peck's physical characteristics agreed in every respect with those of the Tenant of the Inn, of the man whom Mortimer knew as John Gillum, and of the mysterious Mr. Baker; and I affirm his actual identity with those persons. And I further affirm that, in view of that identity and of the body of evidence which I have presented, I have proved that Augustus Peck is the man who, on the night of the seventeenth of September, murdered John Gillum and thereafter falsely personated him at the Inn and elsewhere.
"And, as we say in court, that is my case."
XIX. RE-ENTER MR. SNUPER
For some time after Thorndyke had finished speaking, a profound silence prevailed in the room. We were all deeply impressed by the ingenuity with which the complicated train of evidence had been constructed and presented. And yet there was probably the same thought in the minds of us all. Despite the completeness and conclusiveness of the demonstration, the case seemed to be pervaded by a certain unreality. Something seemed to be lacking.
It was Anstey who broke the silence and put our thoughts into words.
"You have presented us, Thorndyke," said he, "with a most remarkable scheme of circumstantial evidence. I have never heard anything finer of its kind. The proof of your thesis appears to be absolutely conclusive, and it would seem almost ungracious for me to offer any criticisms. But, after all, the superintendent and I are practical men who have to deal with realities. It will fall to us to translate this scheme of evidence into action. And we are at once confronted with a serious practical difficulty. I dare say you realise what it is."
"Your difficulty, I presume," replied Thorndyke, "is that the whole
case, from beginning to end, rests on circumstantial evidence."
"Exactly," said Anstey. "If we arrest this man and charge him with the murder, we have not a particle of direct evidence to produce against him. Now, the late Lord Darling once said that circumstantial evidence is more conclusive than direct evidence. But juries don't take that view, and I think the juries are right. If we bring this man to trial on the evidence that you have given us, we may easily fail to get a conviction; and there is even the possibility that some fact might be produced by the defence which would upset our case completely. You see the difficulty?"
"I do," replied Thorndyke. "I have seen it all along; and I have provided the means to meet it. Hitherto, I have dealt exclusively with the train of circumstantial evidence because that is really what the case rests upon. But I have borne in mind the need for some direct evidence to impart a quality of concrete reality to the other evidence; and I am able to produce two items which I think will satisfy you and Miller. The first is a set of photographs which Polton has prepared and which I will ask him to hand to me that I may show them to you."
Here Polton paid another visit to the office and came back carrying a small portfolio which he delivered to Thorndyke, who took from it two ten-by-eight mounted photographs and resumed: "These two photographs are enlargements from small originals lent to me by Mr. Benson. The first is a group taken by Mr. Benson, himself; in Australia, and enlarged from the negative. I chose it because it had been taken in the shadow of a building and the faces were quite well lighted. What do you think of it, Benson? Is the likeness fairly good?"
Benson took the photograph from him, and having looked at it, replied: "It is an excellent likeness. The enlargement has brought it out wonderfully."
"Then," said Thorndyke, "pass it to Mortimer."
"Has Mortimer seen it before?" asked Anstey.
"No," Thorndyke replied. "I thought it best that you should see the actual trial."
"You are pretty confident," said Anstey; and the the thought had occurred to me. But apparently his confidence was justified, for, after a prolonged and careful examination of the photograph, Mortimer announced: "There is nobody that I know in this group."
"The man with the beard is John Gillum," said Benson.
"So I had supposed," replied Mortimer. "But I don't recognise him. He appears to be a complete stranger to me."
"Then," said Thorndyke, "we come to the second photograph. That is an enlargement from a small print and is not quite so clear as the other. It was taken by the first officer of the ship and shows a group of four men, one of whom is John Gillum. Look at the group carefully, Mortimer, and see if you can recognise Gillum this time."
Mortimer took the photograph and examined it attentively; and as he did so he appeared to become more and more surprised.
"This is really very curious," said he. "I recognised him at a glance. I suppose this must be a better likeness than the other."
"Show Benson which is John Gillum," said Thorndyke.
Mortimer turned to Benson, holding out the photograph and pointing to one of the figures.
"I say that this is Gillum," said he.
"Then," replied Benson, "you are wrong. That is the ship's surgeon, Dr. Peck. The man standing next to him is Jack Gillum."
Mortimer looked at him in astonishment—though I didn't quite see why, after what we had heard. Then, after another look at the photograph, he exclaimed:
"So that man is Dr. Peck! Then the man I knew as John Gillum must have been Dr. Peck, for the likeness is quite unmistakable. It is rather an appalling thought, though, considering the sort of terms we were on."
Miller rubbed his hands. "Now," said he, "we are getting down to brass tacks." (apparently he regarded the circumstantial tacks as being of an entirely different metal). "Mr. Mortimer's evidence seems pretty convincing, but I think you said, doctor, that you had another item up your sleeve."
"I have," replied Thorndyke, "and I think it will be particularly acceptable to you."
He rose, and stepping across to a cabinet, opened it and took out an object which I recognised as the little roulette box that I had seen in Gillum's chambers. Having briefly explained its nature and origin, he continued: "I have fixed it to this board with a spot of glue so that it can be handled without being touched. You will see that it is marked all over with a multitude of finger-prints, many of them superimposed and most of them undecipherable. The grey powder with which I developed them doesn't show up at all well to the eye, but it photographs admirably; so I suggest that you give your attention to the excellent photographs which Polton has made of this box, which show the prints much more distinctly than they appear in the original."
He took from the portfolio a number of prints on glossy bromide paper and passed them to Miller, who examined them with eager interest.
"But these are not so bad, doctor," he said, when he had looked them over. "I can pick out at least half-a-dozen which our experts could identify quite easily. But what is the point about them? What do they prove?"
"The point is," Thorndyke replied, "that they are the prints of someone who had handled this box. But the box was the property of the Tenant of the Inn and the prints are presumably the prints of his fingers. At any rate, they were made by somebody who had been in those chambers; and Mortimer actually saw the Tenant handling this box. They furnish evidence, therefore, that the person who made them must, at some time, have been in John Gillum's chambers. And now cast your eye over this other collection."
As he spoke, he took out of the portfolio a sheet of paper on which there were two groups of finger-prints, apparently made with printing ink and accompanied by a signature of the same intense black. Miller took the paper and, after a careful scrutiny, compared the prints on it with those shown in the photographs.
"There is no doubt," said he, "that these finger-prints are the same as those that came from the box. But whose are they, and what are they? I should have taken them for lithographs. And what is this signature? That looks like a lithograph, too."
"It is a lithograph," replied Thorndyke, taking yet another paper from the portfolio. "I will explain how it was made. Here, you see, is a copy of the famous blackmailer's letter. I wrote it out myself on a carefully prepared sheet of lithographic transfer paper. When we called on Dr. Peck, I gave it to him to read. When he had read it, I drew his attention to the attestation on the back, whereupon he turned it over, read the attestation, and turned it back. Thus his fingers and thumbs touched the paper at three different points, all of which I carefully avoided when I took the letter from him.
"Later, I called on a very skilful lithographer and got him to transfer both sides of the letter to the one and take off a few proofs. But first I asked him to write his signature on the letter with lithographic chalk so that it would ink up with the finger-prints and enable him to swear to the proofs."
"Then," said Miller, "these are Peck's finger-prints, excepting those at the upper corners, which I presume are your own, and it follows that the prints on the box are his, too. But that seems to put the coping-stone on your case, doctor, though, as this is a murder case, we could still do with a bit more evidence."
"You will find plenty of further evidence," said Thorndyke, "when you get to work with regular enquiries; evidence from the banks, from Copes and from various other sources. But you now have enough to enable you to arrest Peck. These finger-prints prove that he was in Gillum's chambers at the very time when, according to his own story, he was on the high seas at the other side of the world. Are you satisfied, Anstey?"
"Perfectly," he replied. "I should go into court confidently on what we have now, without depending on the further evidence that the police will be able to rake together. I see the shadow of the rope already."
It was at this point that Mortimer interposed a question.
"I have been expecting," said he, "to hear some reference to poor Abel Webb. Doesn't he come into the scheme of evidence?"
"He did," T
horndyke replied, "for the purposes of my investigation, but he does not for the purposes of the prosecution. I have not the slightest doubt that Peck murdered him. But I can't prove it; and without proof it would be useless to introduce any reference to the murder."
"Can you form any guess as to why Peck should have murdered him?"
"My dear fellow," exclaimed Thorndyke, "it is not a matter of guessing. It is obvious. Abel Webb was intimately acquainted with both John Gillum and Augustus Peck. Now, it happened that he saw Peck at his place of business, and he must have recognised him and have noticed that his hair was dyed black—that, in fact, he was disguised so as to resemble Gillum. He seems to have got Gillum's address—probably from the shipping office—and he certainly called at Gillum's chambers, apparently to make enquiries. There he met Peck, disguised and obviously impersonating Gillum. Then the murder was out. Peck had the choice of two alternatives; either to kill Webb or to abandon his scheme and disappear. Naturally, being Peck, he elected to murder Webb; and, accordingly, Webb was murdered immediately after his visit to the Inn—apparently on the very same day."
"While we are on the subject of explanations," said Benson, "could you give us just an outline of the actual events? A sort of condensed narrative of Peck's proceedings? I am not perfectly clear as to how the crime was carried out."
"To put it very briefly," Thorndyke replied, "I take it that the sequence of events was this: During the voyage, Peck learned a good deal about Gillum's affairs and, among other matters, two very important facts. First, that Gillum was coming into a large sum of money, accruing in instalments, and second, that he was a total stranger to England; that he knew nobody there and that nobody knew him. These two circumstances suggested to him the possibility of making away with Gillum, personating him while the instalments were being paid, and getting the money into his own possession.
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