The Master Detective Part 46

"Are they worth considering--now?"

"I think so. It will serve to pa.s.s the time. I didn't take any interest in your story at the time, but I think I remember the facts. You must correct me if I go wrong. First, then, we may take it as certain that the church was not broken into in an ordinary way. We a.s.sume, therefore, that some one connected with the church had a hand in the robbery. You satisfied yourself that an entry was not effected by the only possible window, we therefore ask who had keys of the church. The answer would appear to be the vicar, the verger, and possibly, even probably, Mr.

Hayes. Had keys been in the possession of any other person for any purpose, either temporarily or otherwise, the vicar--I am a.s.suming his integrity--would have mentioned it. Now the vicar does not suggest that he has any suspicion against the verger, nor do you appear to have entertained any, but Mr. Harding does suggest a suspicion of his curate by mentioning his debts and his dealings with money lenders."

"It was under pressure. I am convinced he has no real suspicion."

"At any rate his story influenced you. You made some inquiries concerning Mr. Hayes. That is an important point. Had you not heard at the same time of this hooligan club, you would probably have made further inquiries about the curate. I think you missed something."

"Oh, nonsense. You've seen the man and must appreciate--"

"His worth," said Quarles. "I do, but he leads to speculation. Let us consider the safe for a moment. There were marks from a blow of the chisel on the wall, scratches on the safe door, and by the keyhole, but you are satisfied that the safe was opened with a key, yet the vicar's key will not turn the lock. Why should an expert thief trouble to make these marks or to suggest that the safe had been broken open, even to the extent of jamming the lock in some way? The only possible explanation would be that the expert wished to leave the impression than an amateur had been at work. I can see no reason why he should wish to do so, and at any rate he failed. You were not deceived; you looked for the expert at once."

"And the hunter has been trapped. We were hotter on the trail than I imagined."

"It is a warning to me to keep out of cases in which I feel no interest,"

said Quarles. "Still, circ.u.mstances have aroused my interest now. There is no doubt, Wigan, that there was every reason to look for an amateur in this business, and in spite of the hooligan club, you seem to have been half conscious of this fact. You would have been glad to know what the romance connected with the jewels was. Not idle curiosity, I take it, but a grasping for a clue in that direction. Miss Belford cannot help you beyond writing to her aunt's old friend in Yorkshire, yet had it not been for the hooligans' club, I fancy you would have followed this trail more keenly. According to Miss Belford, apart from the jewels, her aunt had not left sufficient to enable the niece to go on living in Cedars Road, yet while Miss Morrison was alive it was sufficient, apparently. Of course the niece may have more expensive tastes, but under the circ.u.mstances it was rather a curious statement. She believes that a past romance was the reason why the jewels were left to the church, and she admits that she was disappointed they were not left to her. It seems possible, doesn't it, that at one time she hoped to have them after her aunt's death? That would mean there was no valid reason why she shouldn't, and I think you might reasonably have speculated that she knew more of the romance than she admitted."

"You wouldn't have thought so if you had talked with her."

"Possibly not," returned Quarles. "I started handicapped in this case, I was not interested in it; Zena was not at hand to ask one of her absurd questions, which have so often put me on the right road. The road we have traveled has landed us here, and I have been thinking of another road we might have traveled. We will forget the hooligans' club. We start with the a.s.sumption that the robbery was the work of an amateur, we have ample reasons for thinking so. We do not suspect the vicar, we are inclined to exonerate the verger, and we finally decide that Mr. Hayes is innocent.

We are met with a difficulty at once. How was the church entered? We may a.s.sume that some person in the Sunday evening congregation remained hidden in the church, committed the burglary, opening the safe with a duplicate key, marking the wall and the door, and giving a wrench to the lock to suggest ordinary thieves. Had it not been for the hooligan club, these efforts to mislead would not have been very successful, I fancy.

They show that the amateur had small knowledge of the ways of experts.

The thief, having secured the chalice, is still locked in the church. How to escape? It is a case of an all night vigil. When the verger arrives on Monday morning and pa.s.ses through the church towards the vestry, the thief slips out. Now it is obvious that to make this possible the thief must have known a great deal about the church and its working, must have come in contact with the vicar constantly, or it would have been impossible to get an impression of the safe key. We therefore look amongst the church workers for the thief."

"Your deductions would be more interesting were we not lying trussed in this cellar," I said. "I am trying to wriggle some of these knots loose."

"That's right," said Quarles, "When you are free you can undo me. My dear Wigan, it is the fact that we are in this cellar which makes these deductions so interesting. The chalice was stolen for the sake of the jewels, that is evident, or the thief would have taken the gold paten as well; and the jewels have a romance attached to them. We don't know what that romance is, but we have an eccentric old lady the possessor of the jewels; we have reason to suppose that she was not otherwise rich, and we have a niece apparently ignorant of her aunt's past. She admits disappointment that the jewels were left to the church; she complains that her own circ.u.mstances are straitened. In spite of the fact that she lives in Walham Green, she becomes, after her aunt's death, a worker in St. Ethelburga's parish in Bloomsbury. We have in Miss Belford one who knows the general working of the church, one who has been brought in contact with the vicar--Mr. Harding said he knew her very well, remember; and moreover she is closely connected with the jewels. It is possible, even, that she knows the romance behind the jewels and feels that they are hers by right and ought never to have been given to the church. This would account entirely for such a woman turning thief."

"The fact remains we are in this cellar," I said.

"It is a very interesting fact," said Quarles. "Of course I cannot be sure that the man and woman who were in this cellar were the same young Squires met, but I believe they were. The woman stood with her arms akimbo in each case, the position was identical. They learnt from young Squires that we were following and went off to warn some of their fellows who waited for us, Squires leading us into the trap by arrangement. The gang has beaten us, Wigan."

"And the chalice is in the melting pot," I remarked.

"I don't believe the gang knows anything about the chalice," said the professor quietly.

"Not know! Why--"

"Wigan, you stopped to speak to a colleague engaged on the hotel robberies this morning. You were seen, I believe. It was immediately a.s.sumed that you were on that job, and when Squires saw you to-night at the club he thought you were after the hotel robbers. Without being aware of it we were probably hot on their track."

"It is impossible," I said.

"Why should it be?" Quarles asked. "Once get a fixed idea in the mind, and it is exceedingly difficult to give opposing theories their due weight. The hooligan club got into your mind. There were many reasons why it should, especially with Mr. Hayes as the connecting link; you could not believe him guilty so you fell back upon the club. One other point, a very important one. The chalice was only used on great festivals and certain Saints' days. There are several reasons why the robbery would be difficult on a great festival. The church would not be in its normal condition, owing to decorations or increased services, perhaps; besides, the thief--a church worker we a.s.sume--might be missed from some function connected with the church which would cause suspicion. On the other hand, many Saints' days occur in the week when there is no late evening service, perhaps, and if there is, only a small congregation. It would be remembered who was present. The chalice was stolen on a Saints' day which happened to fall on a Sunday, and must therefore remain in the church all night. How many people do you suppose know which Saints' days were specified by Miss Morrison? Very few. I warrant you were not far from the chalice when you were talking to Miss Belford. How are you getting on with your knots, Wigan?"

"I am not tied so tightly as I might be."

"Good. With luck you may yet be in time to prevent Miss Belford getting away."

"I don't believe she has anything to do with the chalice," I answered.

"All the same, I should take another journey to Walham Green," said Quarles. "When one is dealing with a woman it is well to remember that she is more direct than a man, is inclined to use simpler methods, and is often more thorough. Witness the man and woman in this cellar. The man gave you brandy to revive you: the woman didn't see any reason why you shouldn't die. She interested me. A woman like that is a source of strength to a gang. I fancy there is a glimmer of daylight through a grating yonder."

I got free from my bonds after a time, and I undid Quarles. The cellar door was a flimsy affair, my shoulder against the lock burst it open at once. No one rushed to prevent our escape. The house was as silent as the grave.

"Our captors have decamped," said Quarles. "We must have been hot upon the trail last night, Wigan."

The house was empty apparently, but we did not search it thoroughly then.

Escape was our first thought. I could give instructions to the first constable we met to keep a watch on the house. We left by an area and found ourselves at the end of a blind road in Hampstead. The house was detached, and fifty yards or more from its nearest neighbor.

"Reserved for future investigation," Quarles remarked. "Our first business is the jeweled chalice."

Only a dim light had found its way through the cellar grating, but the day had begun. There was the rumble of an early milk cart. In spite of aching head and stiff limbs, only one idea possessed us; and the first taxi we found took us to Walham Green.

Miss Belford had gone. She must have left the house yesterday within half an hour of my leaving it. Inquiry subsequently proved that her servant had left on the Sat.u.r.day, and that during the last week Miss Belford had disposed of her furniture just as it stood.

Quarles was right, although we had no actual proof until some months later, when we had almost forgotten the jeweled chalice.

Miss Belford wrote to Mr. Harding. The jewels were left to Miss Morrison, she said, by an old lover. Why they had not married she could not say, but from old letters it appeared there had been a quarrel, and the man had married elsewhere. Miss Belford was the daughter of that marriage.

She was not really Miss Morrison's niece, although she had always called her aunt. The jewels were left to Miss Morrison absolutely, to sell or do as she liked with, but Miss Belford declared that, in a letter which was with the jewels when Miss Morrison received them after Mr. Belford's death, and which she afterwards found amongst her papers, her father evidently expected that his daughter would ultimately benefit. The letter went on to explain how the theft had been accomplished, and the letter concluded:

"Had I known my aunt contemplated giving the jewels to the church, I should have taken them before, because I had always expected them to come to me. They were presented before I knew anything about it. I could do nothing, I was dependent upon her. When I found my father's letter I knew I had been robbed--that is the word, Mr. Harding, robbed. In taking the chalice I have only taken what belongs to me. On reflection you will probably consider that I was quite justified."

I can affirm that the vicar of St. Ethelburga's did not think so, and since Miss Belford's letter, which came from America, did not give any address I imagine she was not sure what att.i.tude Mr. Harding would take up. What became of the gems, or how they were disposed of, I do not know; I only know that there is no jeweled chalice at St. Ethelburga's now, and I fancy the vicar thinks that, as a detective, I was a ghastly failure.

CHAPTER XIV

THE ADVENTURE OF THE FORTY-TON YAWL

Brilliant sunshine and a sufficient breeze, a well-appointed forty-ton yawl, nothing to do but lie basking on the warm deck, conscious of a very pretty woman at the helm--well, you may go a long way before you find anything to beat it for pure enjoyment.

How I came to be spending my time under such enviable circ.u.mstances requires some explanation, especially when I state that the exceedingly pretty woman was not Zena Quarles.

It will be remembered that to attend to the jeweled chalice case, which proved to be an affair of a day and a night only, I had been taken off a job concerning a series of hotel robberies, and I was particularly glad to be put back upon this case, because Quarles was so intensely interested in it. Although the chalice case was not actually cleared up satisfactorily for some months, it was practically certain that the attack made upon us had nothing to do with the theft of the chalice.

The professor was convinced that, unconsciously, we had been hot upon the trail of the hotel robberies, that the trails of the two cases had, in fact, crossed each other. It seemed to me that he had jumped to this conclusion upon insufficient evidence, but I determined to make a thorough investigation of the house at Hampstead at once.

The house was in charge of a caretaker named Mason, who lived there in one spa.r.s.ely furnished room, but on the night of our capture he had absented himself without leave. This looked suspicious, but the man was able to prove that he had told the truth as to his whereabouts, and further inquiry elicited nothing against him. Quarles also declared emphatically that Mason was not the masked man he had seen in the cellar.

I next managed to get an interview with the owner of the house, a Mr.

Wibley. He had lived in it himself for a time, but it had now been empty for about two years. It was a good house, but old-fashioned. People did not like bas.e.m.e.nts, and as the house was in a neighborhood which was deteriorating he had not felt inclined to spend money upon it. He knew nothing about the caretaker who had been put there by the house agent, but he was very keen to give me any help in his power, for he had himself been a victim of one of the hotel robberies. Business occasionally brought him to town from his house in Hampshire, and while staying in an hotel a big haul had been made, and a necklace which he had bought for his daughter only that day was amongst the property stolen.

All these robberies, which had occurred over a period of six months, had been carried out with a success which entirely baffled the authorities.

Apparently rooms were rifled during the table d'hote; at least, it was always late in the evening that the robberies were discovered. In no case had a guest or a servant left suddenly or suspiciously, and drastic search had discovered nothing. There could be little doubt that a clever gang was at work, but during this period not a single stolen article had been traced. Scotland Yard had any number of men engaged upon the case; known thieves were watched, and fences kept under observation; but as a fact there had been no clue at all until Quarles and I had been kidnaped.