Thorndyke Lays the Mine
The information supplied by Mr. Samuel Wilkins, so far from dispelling
the cloud of mystery that hung over the Blackmore case, only enveloped
it in deeper obscurity, so far as I was concerned. The new problem that
Thorndyke offered for solution was a tougher one than any of the others.
He proposed that I should identify and give a name to this mysterious
woman. But how could I? No woman, excepting Mrs. Wilson, had been
mentioned in connection with the case. This new <i>dramatis persona</i> had
appeared suddenly from nowhere and straightway vanished without leaving
a trace, excepting the two or three beads that we had picked up in
Jeffrey's room.
Nor was it in the least clear what part, if any, she had played in the
tragedy. The facts still pointed as plainly to suicide as before her
appearance. Jeffrey's repeated hints as to his intentions, and the very
significant preparations that he had made, were enough to negative any
idea of foul play. And yet the woman's presence in the chambers at that
time, the secret manner of her arrival and her precautions against
recognition, strongly suggested some kind of complicity in the dreadful
event that followed.
But what complicity is possible in the case of suicide? The woman might
have furnished him with the syringe and the poison, but it would not
have been necessary for her to go to his chambers for that purpose.
Vague ideas of persuasion and hypnotic suggestion floated through my
brain; but the explanations did not fit the case and the hypnotic
suggestion of crime is not very convincing to the medical mind. Then I
thought of blackmail in connection with some disgraceful secret; but
though this was a more hopeful suggestion, it was not very probable,
considering Jeffrey's age and character.
And all these speculations failed to throw the faintest light on the
main question: "Who was this woman?"
A couple of days passed, during which Thorndyke made no further
reference to the case. He was, most of the time, away from home, though
how he was engaged I had no idea. What was rather more unusual was that
Polton seemed to have deserted the laboratory and taken to outdoor
pursuits. I assumed that he had seized the opportunity of leaving me in
charge, and I dimly surmised that he was acting as Thorndyke's private
inquiry agent, as he seemed to have done in the case of Samuel Wilkins.
On the evening of the second day Thorndyke came home in obviously good
spirits, and his first proceedings aroused my expectant curiosity. He
went to a cupboard and brought forth a box of Trichinopoly cheroots. Now
the Trichinopoly cheroot was Thorndyke's one dissipation, to be enjoyed
only on rare and specially festive occasions; which, in practice, meant
those occasions on which he had scored some important point or solved
some unusually tough problem. Wherefore I watched him with lively
interest.
"It's a pity that the 'Trichy' is such a poisonous beast," he remarked,
taking up one of the cheroots and sniffing at it delicately. "There is
no other cigar like it, to a really abandoned smoker." He laid the cigar
back in the box and continued: "I think I shall treat myself to one
after dinner to celebrate the occasion."
"What occasion?" I asked.
"The completion of the Blackmore case. I am just going to write to
Marchmont advising him to enter a caveat."
"Do you mean to say that you have discovered a flaw in the will, after
all?"
"A flaw!" he exclaimed. "My dear Jervis, that second will is a forgery."
I stared at him in amazement; for his assertion sounded like nothing
more or less than arrant nonsense.
"But the thing is impossible, Thorndyke," I said. "Not only did the
witnesses recognize their own signatures and the painter's greasy
finger-marks, but they had both read the will and remembered its
contents."
"Yes; that is the interesting feature in the case. It is a very pretty
problem. I shall give you a last chance to solve it. To-morrow evening
we shall have to give a full explanation, so you have another
twenty-four hours in which to think it over. And, meanwhile, I am going
to take you to my club to dine. I think we shall be pretty safe there
from Mrs. Schallibaum."
He sat down and wrote a letter, which was apparently quite a short one,
and having addressed and stamped it, prepared to go out.
"Come," said he, "let us away to 'the gay and festive scenes and halls
of dazzling light.' We will lay the mine in the Fleet Street pillar box.
I should like to be in Marchmont's office when it explodes."
"I expect, for that matter," said I, "that the explosion will be felt
pretty distinctly in these chambers."
"I expect so, too," replied Thorndyke; "and that reminds me that I shall
be out all day to-morrow, so, if Marchmont calls, you must do all that
you can to persuade him to come round after dinner and bring Stephen
Blackmore, if possible. I am anxious to have Stephen here, as he will be
able to give us some further information and confirm certain matters of
fact."
I promised to exercise my utmost powers of persuasion on Mr. Marchmont
which I should certainly have done on my own account, being now on the
very tiptoe of curiosity to hear Thorndyke's explanation of the
unthinkable conclusion at which he had arrived--and the subject dropped
completely; nor could I, during the rest of the evening, induce my
colleague to reopen it even in the most indirect or allusive manner.
Our explanations in respect of Mr. Marchmont were fully realized; for,
on the following morning, within an hour of Thorndyke's departure from
our chambers, the knocker was plied with more than usual emphasis, and,
on my opening the door, I discovered the solicitor in company with a
somewhat older gentleman. Mr. Marchmont appeared somewhat out of humour,
while his companion was obviously in a state of extreme irritation.
"How d'you do, Dr. Jervis?" said Marchmont as he entered at my
invitation. "Your friend, I suppose, is not in just now?"
"No; and he will not be returning until the evening."
"Hm; I'm sorry. We wished to see him rather particularly. This is my
partner, Mr. Winwood."
The latter gentleman bowed stiffly and Marchmont continued:
"We have had a letter from Dr. Thorndyke, and it is, I may say, a rather
curious letter; in fact, a very singular letter indeed."
"It is the letter of a madman!" growled Mr. Winwood.
"No, no, Winwood; nothing of the kind. Control yourself, I beg you. But
really, the letter is rather incomprehensible. It relates to the will of
the late Jeffrey Blackmore--you know the main facts of the case; and we
cannot reconcile it with those facts."
"This is the letter," exclaimed Mr. Winwood, dragging the document from
his wallet and slapping it down on the table. "If you are acquainted
with the case, sir, just read that, and let us hear what <i>you</i> think."
I took up the letter and read aloud:
"JEFFREY BLACKMORE, DECD.
"DEAR MR. MARCHMONT,--
"I have gone into this case with great care and have now no doubt that
the second will is a forgery. Criminal proceedings will, I think, be
inevitable, but meanwhile it would be wise to enter a caveat.
"If you could look in at my chambers to-morrow evening we could talk the
case over; and I should be glad if you could bring Mr. Stephen
Blackmore; whose personal knowledge of the events and the parties
concerned would be of great assistance in clearing up obscure details.
"I am,
"Yours sincerely,
"JOHN EVELYN THORNDYKE
"C.F. MARCHMONT, ESQ."
"Well!" exclaimed Mr. Winwood, glaring ferociously at me, "what do you
think of the learned counsel's opinion?"
"I knew that Thorndyke was writing to you to this effect," I replied,
"but I must frankly confess that I can make nothing of it. Have you
acted on his advice?"
"Certainly not!" shouted the irascible lawyer. "Do you suppose that we
wish to make ourselves the laughing-stock of the courts? The thing is
impossible--ridiculously impossible!"
"It can't be that, you know," I said, a little stiffly, for I was
somewhat nettled by Mr. Winwood's manner, "or Thorndyke would not have
written this letter. The conclusion looks as impossible to me as it does
to you; but I have complete confidence in Thorndyke. If he says that the
will is a forgery, I have no doubt that it is a forgery."
"But how the deuce can it be?" roared Winwood. "You know the
circumstances under which the will was executed."
"Yes; but so does Thorndyke. And he is not a man who overlooks important
facts. It is useless to argue with me. I am in a complete fog about the
case myself. You had better come in this evening and talk it over with
him as he suggests."
"It is very inconvenient," grumbled Mr. Winwood. "We shall have to dine
in town."
"Yes," said Marchmont, "but it is the only thing to be done. As Dr.
Jervis says, we must take it that Thorndyke has something solid to base
his opinion on. He doesn't make elementary mistakes. And, of course, if
what he says is correct, Mr. Stephen's position is totally changed."
"Bah!" exclaimed Winwood, "he has found a mare's nest, I tell you.
Still, I agree that the explanation should be worth hearing."
"You mustn't mind Winwood," said Marchmont, in an apologetic undertone;
"he's a peppery old fellow with a rough tongue, but he doesn't mean any
harm." Which statement Winwood assented to--or dissented from; for it
was impossible to say which--by a prolonged growl.
"We shall expect you then," I said, "about eight to-night, and you will
try to bring Mr. Stephen with you?"
"Yes," replied Marchmont; "I think we can promise that he shall come
with us. I have sent him a telegram asking him to attend."
With this the two lawyers took their departure, leaving me to meditate
upon my colleague's astonishing statement; which I did, considerably to
the prejudice of other employment. That Thorndyke would be able to
justify the opinion that he had given, I had no doubt whatever; but yet
there was no denying that his proposition was what Mr. Dick Swiveller
would call "a staggerer."
When Thorndyke returned, I informed him of the visit of our two friends,
and acquainted him with the sentiments that they had expressed; whereat
he smiled with quiet amusement.
"I thought," he remarked, "that letter would bring Marchmont to our door
before long. As to Winwood, I have never met him, but I gather that he
is one of those people whom you 'mustn't mind.' In a general way, I
object to people who tacitly claim exemption from the ordinary rules of
conduct that are held to be binding on their fellows. But, as he
promises to give us what the variety artists call 'an extra turn,' we
will make the best of him and give him a run for his money."
Here Thorndyke smiled mischievously--I understood the meaning of that
smile later in the evening--and asked: "What do you think of the affair
yourself?"
"I have given it up," I answered. "To my paralysed brain, the Blackmore
case is like an endless algebraical problem propounded by an insane
mathematician."
Thorndyke laughed at my comparison, which I flatter myself was a rather
apt one.
"Come and dine," said he, "and let us crack a bottle, that our hearts
may not turn to water under the frown of the disdainful Winwood. I think
the old 'Bell' in Holborn will meet our present requirements better than
the club. There is something jovial and roystering about an ancient
tavern; but we must keep a sharp lookout for Mrs. Schallibaum."
Thereupon we set forth; and, after a week's close imprisonment, I once
more looked upon the friendly London streets, the cheerfully lighted
shop windows and the multitudes of companionable strangers who moved
unceasingly along the pavements.