THE DISAPPEARANCE OF DR. SMITH
Zena had been away visiting friends and on the very day of her return
I was obliged to leave London, much to my annoyance. The case came
into my hands only because the detective who would have done the work
in the ordinary way was ill. Had he been well, little might have been
heard of the affair; but through me it came under the notice of
Christopher Quarles, and it was he who suggested that there was a
mystery. Anyone who cares to turn up the files of the newspapers of
that date will find that the police methods, and some commercial
methods, too, came in for rather drastic criticism.
Dr. Richmond Smith had a house on the outskirts of Riversmouth, where
he looked after three or four weak-minded patients. One afternoon in
late September he went out, saying he would not be long. His wife was
able to fix the time at half-past four. By dinner time he had not
returned and she became alarmed. He was a man of methodical, even
eccentric, habits; he seldom went outside his own grounds--the fact
had caused people in the neighborhood to consider him peculiar--and
his wife had no reason to suppose he had gone outside the grounds on
this occasion. Dr. Smith's assistant, Patrick Evans, who was a male
attendant, not a medical man, said he searched the house and grounds,
expecting to find that the doctor had been taken suddenly ill; but
the doctor was nowhere to be found. Later in the evening Mrs. Smith
communicated with the police.
This man Evans was an intelligent fellow, and when I took up the case
I found him extremely useful. He wasn't too full of his own ideas, and
answered my questions definitely. So far as he knew, Dr. Smith had
nothing on his mind. He was not the kind of man to commit suicide.
"Having to deal constantly with weak-minded people might have an
effect upon him," I suggested.
"It might, of course," Evans answered; "but it hasn't had any effect
upon me, and, in a way, I should say the doctor was a more phlegmatic
person than I am. Nothing moved him very much."
"Had he enemies?"
"I have no reason to think so."
"No money worries?"
"He never said anything to suggest such a thing. Had there been any
lack of money, I should have expected to see a certain pinching
process in the house."
There was no sign of this. The arrangements for the patients were on
the side of luxury, and there was ample evidence of the kindest and
most considerate treatment. I judged that Mrs. Smith was a capable
manager. When I first saw her she had got over her excitement, and was
able to talk of her husband quite calmly. She admitted that he was
eccentric, and she believed an eccentric action had cost him his life.
She had some reason for this belief.
Dr. Smith had a small boat of five or six tons, old and shabby, but
perfectly seaworthy. This he kept moored in one of the small coves to
the east of Riversmouth. This boat had gone.
I examined these coves carefully. They were protected by a spur of
rock which ran out to sea. Many of them were only caves eaten out of
the cliffs, the depth of water in them varying considerably. At low
tide some of them were almost dry, while others, even at the greatest
ebb, still had deep water in them. They were great holes, in fact,
which the sea constantly replenished. That a boat had been moored in
one of them was evident, and there was some doubt at first whether it
had not been beached for the winter, as had been done in previous
years; but no one knew anything about it, and the boat was not to be
found.
Until quite the end of September the weather had been perfect; there
was no reason why the boat should not have been used with safety and
pleasure, and on the night of Dr. Smith's disappearance the sea was
perfectly calm. As a matter of fact, however, the doctor was never
known to use the boat. The Riversmouth people declared that they only
knew Smith by the occasional glimpse they had of him in his garden
when they passed; that they never met him either in the town or on the
way to the coves; and, indeed, the only person who had any knowledge
of him at all was Mr. Ferguson, a solicitor. On two occasions he had
seen him at his house on small matters of business, and once he had
met him in London to introduce him to an insurance company. Whether a
policy had been taken out or not he did not know, as Dr. Smith had
arranged to take the commission himself if he completed the policy.
Evans was not prepared to say that the doctor never used the boat. It
was true that he seldom went beyond the garden, but this was not to
say that he never did. People might have met him and not recognized
who he was. Once or twice during the summer Evans had been out in the
boat himself, at the doctor's suggestion. It was a good little boat,
and quite easy for one person to manage.
Mrs. Smith did not believe that her husband ever used the boat, and
had never understood why he kept it. He had bought it for practically
nothing, and she could only suppose that the fact of making a bargain
had appealed to him.
"Was he careless about money matters?" I asked.
"There was always plenty of money," she answered, "but I know very
little about his financial affairs. I think he was a little fearful
about the future, and some four years ago he talked about insuring his
life. Whether he did so or not, I cannot say."
A description of the missing man was circulated in the press; but we
could give no portrait; such a thing did not exist. The Riversmouth
people considered this publication futile. They were convinced that
the missing boat was proof enough that the doctor had disappeared,
and, while I searched for additional facts, I was inclined to agree
with them.
I was not long without a solid fact to deal with. I have said that it
was a calm night when the doctor disappeared, but since then the
weather had changed.
A southwesterly gale sent the great breakers foaming all along the
shore, until even the waters of the sheltered coves were troubled.
Between the east and the west cliffs was a stretch of shingle, and
here, early in the morning of the fourth day, some wreckage was cast
up by the swirling waters. There was no doubt that it was part of the
doctor's boat. A fisherman and Patrick Evans were able to identify it
even before a fragment bearing the name _Betty_ came ashore.
No body, however, was washed up, nor anything to suggest that the
doctor had been on his boat.
Certain inquiries necessitated my going to town next day, and I took
the opportunity of going to Chelsea, not really to see Quarles, but to
see Zena. I had no need of his help in the Riversmouth case, and, had
he not been so anxious to know what I had been doing during the last
few days, I should not have mentioned it.
As it was, I told him the story.
"It's a strange thing, Wigan, but I have had a presentiment for the
last forty-eight hours that a particularly difficult mystery was
coming to me. Have you any other case in hand or pending?"
"No."
"Then this may be the one."
"I don't think there is much mystery about it," I answered. "I expect
the body to come ashore presently."
"How about the insurance?" asked Quarles.
"The policy is in force with the Meteor Insurance Company for fifteen
thousand pounds. He has paid the premiums regularly, less commission."
"The premiums have been paid by check, I suppose?"
"Yes. The doctor had an account at the Capital and Provincial here in
London. It has never been a large account, but has been open for a
long while. The doctor did all his business by letter, and does not
appear to have been inside the bank for years."
"If he were in the boat, it is strange his body hasn't been washed up,
isn't it?" asked Zena.
"I think a body might take longer to come ashore than wreckage," I
answered. "Or it may have been caught in another current, and will be
thrown up farther along the coast."
Quarles nodded.
"Of course, there is the possibility that Dr. Smith is not dead," I
went on, "that he has disappeared intentionally, hoping to defraud the
insurance company. Were you thinking of that, Zena?"
"No; I was only wondering why the body had not been found."
"And you, professor?"
"Oh, I haven't developed a theory yet! If no body is found, I presume
the company will withhold the payment of the money for a time."
"Naturally, I didn't discuss that question with them," I returned. "I
imagine no very thorough search of the doctor's papers has yet been
made, for Mrs. Smith knew nothing definite about the insurance, and,
indeed, very little about her husband's affairs."
"Well, we must wait for the body," said the professor.
"You have the same opinion as I have, and expect it to come ashore."
"I have formed no opinion," he answered, "but, judging from your
account, I should think the body will be found presently. When it is I
should like to see it, Wigan. The case doesn't really interest me yet,
but my presentiment does. When I feel my particular corner of the web
of existence trembling I--but it is too late to get on my hobby
to-night. I'm tired, and I dare say you and Zena want to have a talk.
You're a lucky dog, Wigan, a very lucky dog."
He chuckled as he left the room, and Zena and I looked at each other
in astonishment. It was the first intimation he had given that he knew
our secret. He declared later that he had known it exactly as long as
we had, which was probably an exaggeration; but at any rate it made
things easier for us.
I returned to Riversmouth next day, and two days later the doctor's
body was found. As I had suggested to Zena, it had evidently been
caught by another current, and was discovered among the rocks in a
little bay about half a mile east of the coves. A lad saw it from the
top of the cliffs and gave information.
I telegraphed to Quarles at once, and he arrived in Riversmouth that
afternoon.
Mrs. Smith, Patrick Evans, and the solicitor, Ferguson, had already
identified the body when Quarles and I went to see it at the mortuary.
The professor spent a long time examining the dead man and his
clothing. He was particularly interested in the collar of his coat,
and in certain rents in the coat and trousers. I must confess he
seemed to be looking for a mystery where none existed. A silver watch
found in the dead man's pocket had the initials "R. S." on it, and a
signet ring on his finger also bore these initials. There could be no
doubt of the man's identity.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
"Nothing----"
"That presentiment is misleading you."
"Maybe," said Quarles.
"There is no doubt that he was drowned, and there is not the slightest
indication that he was the victim of foul play before he was in the
water."
"I am inclined to agree with you."
"The only question is whether his death was the result of an accident
or whether he committed suicide."
"I shouldn't like to express an opinion," Quarles returned shortly.
"By the way, Wigan, who found the body?"
"A boy belonging to the town."
"I suppose we can get hold of him?"
"He is ready to talk to anyone about it."
"We'll go and find him," said Quarles. "I'm staying in Riversmouth
to-night; no, not with you. I don't want to be identified with the
case in any way. When is the inquest?"
"The day after to-morrow."
"Then to-morrow afternoon you might show me these coves."
"Certainly."
"Now for this boy."
The wind was blowing half a gale as we went through the town.
"It has been blowing like this ever since the night the doctor
disappeared, hasn't it?" asked Quarles.
"Worse than this part of the time. What's the theory, professor?"
"I'm wondering whether there is not some way of clearing up the
accident or suicide question."
We found the lad at his home, and Quarles listened attentively to his
graphic description of seeing the water playing with the corpse as it
lay caught on the rocks.
"Had you gone that way on purpose to see if it had come ashore?" asked
Quarles.
"I had and I hadn't. You don't know old Clay, I suppose. He's a
fisherman who thinks he knows everything, and he said it was
impossible for a body to be washed up on that side of the east cliff."
"And you knew better?"
"It wasn't that. There were several people standing round at the
time, and they laughed at old Clay for being so positive. He was
wrong, you see."
"Evidently. Do you remember who was there at the time?"
"I didn't notice. I was listening to what Clay was saying. I don't
suppose he'll talk so much after this."
Quarles made no comment on what the lad had said as we walked to the
end of the street together, and we parted after arranging our visit to
the coves on the following afternoon.
Next day about noon I walked up to see Mrs. Smith. The assistant,
Evans, came to me, bringing me her apologies. Unless it were anything
of the gravest importance, would I mind coming again?
"The fact is, she has been upset this morning," Evans went on. "A
gentleman unexpectedly turned up to see the doctor about a new patient
coming here. He had not heard of the doctor's tragic death, and Mrs.
Smith had to explain."
"Very trying for her," I said.
"And, to make it worse, the man was rather stupid," said Evans. "He
didn't seem to understand the position, nor why the doctor's death
should prevent arrangements being made. He appeared to have got it
into his head that we were unwilling to let him see how the house was
conducted. I was called in to the rescue, and I took him over the
house. If the weak-minded patient is a relative, I should think the
disease is hereditary."
"Why?"
"He could not understand any explanation," said Evans. "He even
selected a bedroom which happened to be mine, and would go into
details why it was exactly the room he desired. Of course, the house
is to be given up. I believe the relations of the three patients we
have already have been written to."
"I wanted to ask Mrs. Smith if the doctor's papers throw any light
upon his death."
"They do not. Mr. Ferguson was here nearly the whole of yesterday, and
he told me there was nothing to suggest that the doctor was in
difficulties, or that he contemplated taking his own life. His will
was found. He leaves everything to his wife, but Mr. Ferguson said
there was not much to leave beyond his life policy."
"That represents a large sum," I said.
"Does it? I'm glad for Mrs. Smith's sake. Mr. Ferguson didn't mention
the amount. I wish it had been large enough for the doctor to think of
leaving me a bit. At my age a man doesn't easily get another job."
In the afternoon I met Quarles, and we went to look at the coves. Even
at high water it was possible to walk round them by means of a fairly
wide ledge of rock. I showed him where the boat had been kept, pointed
out an oar and a boathook lying on the ledge, but he took only a
perfunctory interest, and spent much more time examining the adjoining
coves and the projecting spur of rock which ran out to sea. He
scrambled out to the end of this spur and seemed interested in the
waves breaking upon it; then he turned and surveyed the land, taking a
pair of glasses from his pocket to examine the general contour of the
coast more clearly.
"It would be under that point yonder where the body was found," he
said.
"Yes."
"It is possible to walk round the rocks to that point, I suppose?"
"Yes, but----"
"Oh, I am not going to do it," he answered. "I was only wondering why
old Clay was so certain that a body could not be washed ashore there.
Has anything further happened since we parted yesterday?"
I told him about Mrs. Smith's visitor.
"You didn't catch sight of him, Wigan?"
"He had gone before I arrived."
"I wonder if he knew anything about the doctor."
"Are you not yet satisfied that this is not the difficult case about
which you had a presentiment?" I asked.
"No," was the sharp answer as he replaced the glasses in his pocket.
"I'm going back to Chelsea to think about it. Found drowned; that will
be the verdict of the inquest to-morrow, but that won't prove
anything. Mrs. Smith is going to leave Riversmouth, you say?"
"So Evans told me."
"The moment she moves have her watched," said Quarles. "Put the best
man you have on to the job. It is likely to be a long business, and in
the meanwhile a hint might be given to the insurance company not to be
in too great a hurry to pay over the money."
"Would you have Patrick Evans watched, too?" I asked, a little sarcasm
in my tone, perhaps, for any suspicion of Mrs. Smith seemed to me
ridiculous.
"No. You can let him go where he likes; he is all right," and he
looked at me steadily for a moment.
I knew what was passing through his mind. Quite recently he had become
interested in a case which was in my hands. He had opposed my solution
of the difficulty with another which contradicted me at every point,
and we had almost quarreled about it, when a new fact came to light,
proving that he was altogether wrong. Even Christopher Quarles was not
infallible. Evidently he had noticed the sarcasm in my voice, and
would have me remember how often he had been right.
In the Riversmouth case, I argued, the professor was hampered by
circumstances. He had got it into his brain that he was called upon to
deal with a difficult problem, and very naturally he saw difficulties
where there were none. I knew from my own experience that for a
detective a preconceived idea is deadly. He can only see things from
one point of view. I was convinced this was Quarles's position, and
the straightforward evidence given at the inquest next day only
confirmed this conviction.
If doubt remained in anyone's mind as to the identity of the body, it
was settled beyond all question. A large sum of money being involved,
the insurance company sent down an official who had seen Dr. Smith
when he called about taking out a policy. He recognized the dead man
at once. Quarles was not even right as regards the verdict. The
doctor's evidence suggested that there were certain signs of a
struggle which one would not expect to find in a deliberate suicide,
but which were natural if a man tried to save himself from drowning.
This, and there being no reason why Dr. Smith should have taken his
own life, and the conviction of his wife and his assistant that he was
not the kind of man to do such a thing, so impressed the jury that
they returned a verdict of accidental death by drowning.
Here would have been an end of the case had not the insurance company
raised difficulties and made all sorts of excuses to delay the payment
of the money. Criticism was aroused; letters appeared in the papers.
The company stated that they were acting on the advice of their
solicitors, and then someone suggested that solicitors of such
standing as the firm mentioned would hardly persevere in such advice
unless the police authorities were behind them. So police methods were
criticized by all kinds of people anxious to rush into print, and
since I was the immediate cause of the trouble, acting on Christopher
Quarles's advice, I grew a little anxious.
Mrs. Smith had come to London and was staying at a boarding house in
Bloomsbury, a most injured woman by common consent. From the moment
she had left Riversmouth I had had her watched, and nothing had
happened. Why had I set a spy upon her movements? Because I had
listened to Quarles in that empty room at Chelsea.
Two days after the inquest I went to see the professor. He had read
the account in the papers.
"You see it was not 'Found drowned,'" I said.
"I thought it would be," he returned. "A momentary ray of light
illumined those twelve good men, and they agreed that it could not be
suicide."
"Of course it might have been an accident," I said, "but I don't think
the evidence justified the verdict."
"A strange case, Wigan, and very difficult because it seems so easy.
There are one or two curious points to begin with. Practically no one
in Riversmouth knew Dr. Smith. He seldom went outside his own grounds.
It is reasonable to assume, therefore, that he was a peculiar man. He
bought a boat because it happened to be a bargain, his wife thinks,
suggesting that spending his money in this way to no purpose was a
hobby with him; yet we hear nothing of any other bargains to support
the idea. Until we have evidence to the contrary, then, we may assume
that some idea was in his mind when he bought the boat. He didn't
forget all about its existence, remember, because twice during the
summer he sent his assistant out in it, and the assistant pronounces
it a very good boat and easy to manage. Now, what possessed Dr. Smith
to go for a sail on that particular day and at that time of the day?
He was certainly not an ardent yachtsman."
"Since he was peculiar, it is naturally difficult to account for his
actions," I said.
"A possible explanation," Quarles returned.
"He may always have had the idea of suicide at the back of his brain,"
said Zena. "It may have been in his mind when he bought the boat. If
one lives near the sea and contemplates suicide, it would be natural
to choose drowning."
"There is much in that argument," said the professor.
"It was in my mind when I said it was curious no body was washed up
with the wreckage," said Zena.
"That remark of yours set me thinking," Quarles went on. "I wondered,
Wigan, whether the doctor was on board the boat when she capsized, or
whatever it was that happened to her. Now my wonder is increased. The
waves had battered the boat to pieces, but when the body is found,
caught on the rocks, it is comparatively uninjured."
"Doubtless it had been carried farther out to sea," I said.
"But it had to come ashore, and the weather was stormy the whole time.
It could hardly have escaped altogether. There was something else to
raise doubt. There were rents in the coat, rents which were all much
alike, and a curious bulge in the collar of the coat. These things
gave me a definite theory. The doctor was not in the boat, nor had he
committed suicide."
"Are you suggesting murder?"
"I am."
"At the inquest the doctor distinctly said that there were no marks on
the body to suggest he had been the victim of foul play. He was
drowned; he was not killed first and put in the water afterward."
"I quite agree with the doctor's evidence," said Quarles, "but he is
not a detective. Let me reconstruct what happened. Dr. Smith came to
the cove either with a companion or to meet someone. Possibly the
doctor had a drink, let us say from a bottle in the boat's locker. I
do not press this point, but it would make the work easier. The
companion pushed the doctor into the water, and with a boathook--there
was one lying on the rocky ledge--he held him under until he drowned.
Once the hook was fixed into the collar of the coat it would be
comparatively easy. Afterward a piece of rock tied to the body would
keep it under water. I suggest this could be done with least danger in
the cove next to the one where the boat was kept. It is deeper,
darker, and would not be likely to receive so much attention when it
became known that the doctor was missing. So the body would be
securely hidden.
"Then the boat, as soon as it was dark enough, was towed out to the
end of the spur and scuttled. The water is shallow there, and as soon
as the wind got up it was battered to pieces and presently the
wreckage came ashore. Why shouldn't the body have been left to come
ashore too? you may ask. Old Clay is learned in the currents of this
part of the coast, and he will tell you there is no certainty what
will happen to wreckage. During a southwesterly gale it may be thrown
up on the shingle; at any other time it may be carried out to sea.
"At the time of the murder it was quite calm, and it was necessary
that the body should be found. The murderer was in no hurry, and at
first too many people went round to look at the coves for it to be
safe for him to take any steps. But he got his opportunity probably on
the night you spent in London when you first mentioned the case to me,
you remember. He got up the body from its hiding-place, and with the
boathook pulled it partly through the water and partly over the rocks,
and fixed it in the place where it was found, the one place where Clay
is certain wreckage never comes ashore."
"I think the theory is fanciful, professor."
"I grant that only the brain of a master criminal could conceive such
a crime. There was my difficulty. Where was this master criminal to be
found?"
"And what was his motive?" I said. "There is the insurance money, but
that comes to the wife. She could not have carried out such a
fantastic crime, nor do I believe for a moment that she instigated
it."
"On both points I am with you," said Quarles. "Now let us consider
another question--the identity of the dead man."
"Surely there is no question about that? The official from the
insurance office----"
"Exactly, Wigan; you hit the weak spot in my theory. You will not deny
that under certain conditions--criminal conditions--the wife, the
assistant, and even the solicitor, Ferguson, might agree to a wrong
identification; the insurance official is outside any such suspicion.
He declares the dead man to be Dr. Smith. Now, Wigan, look at that
notice," and he handed me a cutting from a six months old newspaper.
"You see it is the obituary notice of a Dr. London, who was one of the
doctors of the Meteor Insurance Company, and I have ascertained that
it was he who medically examined Dr. Smith in connection with the life
policy. He passed him as a first-class life. I do not fancy any doctor
would have passed as a first-class life such a man as was washed up by
the sea. Dr. London's death, therefore, removed a valuable witness."
"I cannot see that there is any question about the identity," I said.
"For a moment let us consider facts," said Quarles. "Mrs. Smith
declares that she knows nothing about her husband's affairs, but she
does mention a life policy, adding that she does not know whether it
is in force or not. Nothing very significant in that; but, curiously
enough, the solicitor, Ferguson, volunteers the statement that he
introduced Smith to an office, but does not know whether the policy
was taken out, because Dr. Smith insisted he should have the benefit
of the commission himself. Ferguson is in a small way of business; it
is evident that he did not do much work for Dr. Smith, and one wonders
why he met him in town and took all this trouble when he was to get
nothing out of it. The assistant, Evans, knows nothing about a life
policy; in fact, intelligent as he is, he gives little information
whatever. Yet there is no doubt that he was a person of some
consequence in the household. When the man came to see Dr. Smith, and
Mrs. Smith had to explain that her husband was dead, Evans was sent
for, and he told you that he had had a trying time with the old
gentleman."
"He did."
"I was the old fool," said Quarles.
"You?"
"I wanted to see the house and its inhabitants. Mrs. Smith was upset;
she was, in fact, a little afraid of me, Wigan. I was an unexpected
element in the affair. Patrick Evans is intelligent--very much so; but
he did not give you quite a correct version of what happened. He was
not sent for; he came into the room with Mrs. Smith and he did most of
the talking."
"Did you make any discovery in the house?"
"Only that Patrick Evans was an important member in it. Now the fact
that only these three people had identified the body fitted my theory
exactly; but when the insurance official did so, I was puzzled. Still,
my belief is this, that the person taken to the insurance company by
Ferguson was not the same person who afterward went to Dr. London to
be examined."
"The difficulties your theory gets over, professor, are enormous."
"Look at it this way," said Quarles. "Dr. Smith, who was a man of no
importance, and had done little in his profession, took a weak-minded
patient into his house. Where he lived at the time we do not know.
This patient may have had friends who died; possibly he was left on
the doctor's hands without adequate payment. We will suppose, further,
that this patient had peculiarities--a love of being important, of
being somebody, of being flattered, and above all of loving a secret
to an abnormal degree. Except to those who knew him well, he appeared
a normal individual under ordinary circumstances. We get to facts when
we say that Smith had schemes in his head. He contemplated insuring
his life for a large sum, and we will assume that he meant to reap
the benefit himself. How did he go to work? He took a house at
Riversmouth, where he was unknown, and in due course arrived there
with his wife, who was privy to his scheme, and his one patient."
"It was not until he had settled in Riversmouth that he had patients,"
I said. "That fact is established."
"Let me get to my point, Wigan. It was necessary that the doctor
should have an assistant, so we get Evans at Riversmouth. The doctor,
by flattery, by pandering to his love of secrecy, suggested to his
patient that he should call himself Dr. Smith. So the scheme was
floated. It must necessarily be a work of time, during which the
doctor must live. He took three other patients, who were well cared
for and looked after, chiefly by Evans. Through Ferguson, who I
suggest became a partner in the scheme, the insurance was effected.
When the time was ripe, Dr. London being dead, this patient, who had
come to be known as Dr. Smith by the few people who had caught sight
of him, was murdered, drowned, in the way I have suggested, by the
doctor. The wife remained to claim the money. So we watch her, and
through her we shall presently catch her husband."
"And the assistant?" I asked.
"I grant, Wigan, that the facts supporting my theory are not so strong
as I could wish; that is why we cannot act, why we must wait. We have
a master criminal to deal with in Mr. Smith, who remains in hiding for
a time. What he calls himself now I cannot say, but we know him as
Patrick Evans."
We had to wait a long time. Mrs. Smith even had the temerity to
commence legal proceedings against the insurance company, and then,
probably for the purpose of getting coached upon some difficult
point, she had a secret meeting with Evans in a restaurant in Soho.
Husband and wife and the solicitor Ferguson were arrested. Mrs. Smith
and Ferguson were brought to trial and sentenced as accessories before
the fact, but the doctor succeeded in committing suicide in his cell.