Thorndyke Explodes the Mine
We had not been back in our chambers more than a few minutes when the
little brass knocker on the inner door rattled out its summons.
Thorndyke himself opened the door, and, finding our three expected
visitors on the threshold, he admitted them and closed the "oak."
"We have accepted your invitation, you see," said Marchmont, whose
manner was now a little flurried and uneasy. "This is my partner, Mr.
Winwood; you haven't met before, I think. Well, we thought we should
like to hear some further particulars from you, as we could not quite
understand your letter."
"My conclusion, I suppose," said Thorndyke, "was a little unexpected?"
"It was more than that, sir," exclaimed Winwood. "It was absolutely
irreconcilable either with the facts of the case or with common physical
possibilities."
"At the first glance," Thorndyke agreed, "it would probably have that
appearance."
"It has that appearance still to me." said Winwood, growing suddenly red
and wrathful, "and I may say that I speak as a solicitor who was
practising in the law when you were an infant in arms. You tell us, sir,
that this will is a forgery; this will, which was executed in broad
daylight in the presence of two unimpeachable witnesses who have sworn,
not only to their signatures and the contents of the document, but to
their very finger-marks on the paper. Are those finger-marks forgeries,
too? Have you examined and tested them?"
"I have not," replied Thorndyke. "The fact is they are of no interest to
me, as I am not disputing the witnesses' signatures."
At this, Mr. Winwood fairly danced with irritation.
"Marchmont!" he exclaimed fiercely, "you know this good gentleman, I
believe. Tell me, is he addicted to practical jokes?"
"Now, my dear Winwood," groaned Marchmont, "I pray you--I beg you to
control yourself. No doubt--"
"But confound it!" roared Winwood, "you have, yourself, heard him say
that the will is a forgery, but that he doesn't dispute the signatures;
which," concluded Winwood, banging his fist down on the table, "is
damned nonsense."
"May I suggest," interposed Stephen Blackmore, "that we came here to
receive Dr. Thorndyke's explanation of his letter. Perhaps it would be
better to postpone any comments until we have heard it."
"Undoubtedly, undoubtedly," said Marchmont. "Let me entreat you,
Winwood, to listen patiently and refrain from interruption until we have
heard our learned friend's exposition of the case."
"Oh, very well," Winwood replied sulkily; "I'll say no more."
He sank into a chair with the manner of a man who shuts himself up and
turns the key; and so remained--excepting when the internal pressure
approached bursting-point--throughout the subsequent proceedings,
silent, stony and impassive, like a seated statue of Obstinacy.
"I take it," said Marchmont, "that you have some new facts that are not
in our possession?"
"Yes," replied Thorndyke; "we have some new facts, and we have made some
new use of the old ones. But how shall I lay the case before you? Shall
I state my theory of the sequence of events and furnish the verification
afterwards? Or shall I retrace the actual course of my investigations
and give you the facts in the order in which I obtained them myself,
with the inferences from them?"
"I almost think," said Mr. Marchmont, "that it would be better if you
would put us in possession of the new facts. Then, if the conclusions
that follow from them are not sufficiently obvious, we could hear the
argument. What do you say, Winwood?"
Mr. Winwood roused himself for an instant, barked out the one word
"Facts," and shut himself up again with a snap.
"You would like to have the new facts by themselves?" said Thorndyke.
"If you please. The facts only, in the first place, at any rate."
"Very well," said Thorndyke; and here I caught his eye with a
mischievous twinkle in it that I understood perfectly; for I had most of
the facts myself and realized how much these two lawyers were likely to
extract from them. Winwood was going to "have a run for his money," as
Thorndyke had promised.
My colleague, having placed on the table by his side a small cardboard
box and the sheets of notes from his file, glanced quickly at Mr.
Winwood and began:
"The first important new facts came into my possession on the day on
which you introduced the case to me. In the evening, after you left, I
availed myself of Mr. Stephen's kind invitation to look over his uncle's
chambers in New Inn. I wished to do so in order to ascertain, if
possible, what had been the habits of the deceased during his residence
there. When I arrived with Dr. Jervis, Mr. Stephen was in the chambers,
and I learned from him that his uncle was an Oriental scholar of some
position and that he had a very thorough acquaintance with the cuneiform
writing. Now, while I was talking with Mr. Stephen I made a very curious
discovery. On the wall over the fire-place hung a large framed
photograph of an ancient Persian inscription in the cuneiform character;
and that photograph was upside down."
"Upside down!" exclaimed Stephen. "But that is really very odd."
"Very odd indeed," agreed Thorndyke, "and very suggestive. The way in
which it came to be inverted is pretty obvious and also rather
suggestive. The photograph had evidently been in the frame some years
but had apparently never been hung up before."
"It had not," said Stephen, "though I don't know how you arrived at the
fact. It used to stand on the mantelpiece in his old rooms in Jermyn
Street."
"Well," continued Thorndyke, "the frame-maker had pasted his label on
the back of the frame, and as this label hung the right way up, it
appeared as if the person who fixed the photograph on the wall had
adopted it as a guide."
"It is very extraordinary," said Stephen. "I should have thought the
person who hung it would have asked Uncle Jeffrey which was the right
way up; and I can't imagine how on earth it could have hung all those
months without his noticing it. He must have been practically blind."
Here Marchmont, who had been thinking hard, with knitted brows, suddenly
brightened up.
"I see your point," said he. "You mean that if Jeffrey was as blind as
that, it would have been possible for some person to substitute a false
will, which he might sign without noticing the substitution."
"That wouldn't make the will a forgery," growled Winwood. "If Jeffrey
signed it, it was Jeffrey's will. You could contest it if you could
prove the fraud. But he said: 'This is my will,' and the two witnesses
read it and have identified it."
"Did they read it aloud?" asked Stephen.
"No, they did not," replied Thorndyke.
"Can you prove substitution?" asked Marchmont.
"I haven't asserted it," answered Thorndyke, "My position is that the
will is a forgery."
"But it is not," said Winwood.
"We won't argue it now," said Thorndyke. "I ask you to note the fact
that the inscription was upside down. I also observed on the walls of
the chambers some valuable Japanese colour-prints on which were recent
damp-spots. I noted that the sitting-room had a gas-stove and that the
kitchen contained practically no stores or remains of food and hardly
any traces of even the simplest cooking. In the bedroom I found a large
box that had contained a considerable stock of hard stearine candles,
six to the pound, and that was now nearly empty. I examined the clothing
of the deceased. On the soles of the boots I observed dried mud, which
was unlike that on my own and Jervis's boots, from the gravelly square
of the inn. I noted a crease on each leg of the deceased man's trousers
as if they had been turned up half-way to the knee; and in the waistcoat
pocket I found the stump of a 'Contango' pencil. On the floor of the
bedroom, I found a portion of an oval glass somewhat like that of a
watch or locket, but ground at the edge to a double bevel. Dr. Jervis
and I also found one or two beads and a bugle, all of dark brown glass."
Here Thorndyke paused, and Marchmont, who had been gazing at him with
growing amazement, said nervously:
"Er--yes. Very interesting. These observations of yours--er--are--"
"Are all the observations that I made at New Inn."
The two lawyers looked at one another and Stephen Blackmore stared
fixedly at a spot on the hearth-rug. Then Mr. Winwood's face contorted
itself into a sour, lopsided smile.
"You might have observed a good many other things, sir," said he, "if
you had looked. If you had examined the doors, you would have noted that
they had hinges and were covered with paint; and, if you had looked up
the chimney you might have noted that it was black inside."
"Now, now, Winwood," protested Marchmont in an agony of uneasiness as to
what his partner might say next, "I must really beg you--er--to refrain
from--what Mr. Winwood means, Dr. Thorndyke, is that--er--we do not
quite perceive the relevancy of these--ah--observations of yours."
"Probably not," said Thorndyke, "but you will perceive their relevancy
later. For the present, I will ask you to note the facts and bear them
in mind, so that you may be able to follow the argument when we come to
that.
"The next set of data I acquired on the same evening, when Dr. Jervis
gave me a detailed account of a very strange adventure that befell him.
I need not burden you with all the details, but I will give you the
substance of his story."
He then proceeded to recount the incidents connected with my visits to
Mr. Graves, dwelling on the personal peculiarities of the parties
concerned and especially of the patient, and not even forgetting the
very singular spectacles worn by Mr. Weiss. He also explained briefly
the construction of the chart, presenting the latter for the inspection
of his hearers. To this recital our three visitors listened in utter
bewilderment, as, indeed did I also; for I could not conceive in what
way my adventures could possibly be related to the affairs of the late
Mr. Blackmore. This was manifestly the view taken by Mr. Marchmont, for,
during a pause in which the chart was handed to him, he remarked
somewhat stiffly:
"I am assuming, Dr. Thorndyke, that the curious story you are telling us
has some relevance to the matter in which we are interested."
"You are quite correct in your assumption," replied Thorndyke. "The
story is very relevant indeed, as you will presently be convinced."
"Thank you," said Marchmont, sinking back once more into his chair with
a sigh of resignation.
"A few days ago," pursued Thorndyke, "Dr. Jervis and I located, with the
aid of this chart, the house to which he had been called. We found that
the late tenant had left somewhat hurriedly and that the house was to
let; and, as no other kind of investigation was possible, we obtained
the keys and made an exploration of the premises."
Here he gave a brief account of our visit and the conditions that we
observed, and was proceeding to furnish a list of the articles that we
had found under the grate, when Mr. Winwood started from his chair.
"Really, sir!" he exclaimed, "this is too much! Have I come here, at
great personal inconvenience, to hear you read the inventory of a
dust-heap?"
Thorndyke smiled benevolently and caught my eye, once more, with a gleam
of amusement.
"Sit down, Mr. Winwood," he said quietly. "You came here to learn the
facts of the case, and I am giving them to you. Please don't interrupt
needlessly and waste time."
Winwood stared at him ferociously for several seconds; then, somewhat
disconcerted by the unruffled calm of his manner, he uttered a snort of
defiance, sat down heavily and shut himself up again.
"We will now," Thorndyke continued, with unmoved serenity, "consider
these relics in more detail, and we will begin with this pair of
spectacles. They belonged to a person who was near-sighted and
astigmatic in the left eye and almost certainly blind in the right. Such
a description agrees entirely with Dr. Jervis's account of the sick
man."
He paused for the moment, and then, as no one made any comment,
proceeded:
"We next come to these little pieces of reed, which you, Mr. Stephen,
will probably recognize as the remains of a Japanese brush, such as is
used for writing in Chinese ink or for making small drawings."
Again he paused, as though expecting some remark from his listeners; but
no one spoke, and he continued:
"Then there is this bottle with the theatrical wig-maker's label on it,
which once contained cement such as is used for fixing on false beards,
moustaches or eyebrows."
He paused once more and looked round expectantly at his audience, none
of whom, however, volunteered any remark.
"Do none of these objects that I have described and shown you, seem to
have any significance for us?" he asked, in a tone of some surprise.
"They convey nothing to me," said Mr. Marchmont, glancing at his
partner, who shook his head like a restive horse.
"Nor to you, Mr. Stephen?"
"No," replied Stephen. "Under the existing circumstances they convey no
reasonable suggestion to me."
Thorndyke hesitated as if he were half inclined to say something more;
then, with a slight shrug, he turned over his notes and resumed:
"The next group of new facts is concerned with the signatures of the
recent cheques. We have photographed them and placed them together for
the purpose of comparison and analysis."
"I am not prepared to question the signatures." said Winwood. "We have
had a highly expert opinion, which would override ours in a court of law
even if we differed from it; which I think we do not."
"Yes," said Marchmont; "that is so. I think we must accept the
signatures, especially as that of the will has been proved, beyond any
question" to be authentic."
"Very well," agreed Thorndyke; "we will pass over the signatures. Then
we have some further evidence in regard to the spectacles, which serves
to verify our conclusions respecting them."
"Perhaps," said Marchmont, "we might pass over that, too, as we do not
seem to have reached any conclusions."
"As you please," said Thorndyke. "It is important, but we can reserve it
for verification. The next item will interest you more, I think. It is
the signed and witnessed statement of Samuel Wilkins, the driver of the
cab in which the deceased came home to the inn on the evening of his
death."
My colleague was right. An actual document, signed by a tangible
witness, who could be put in the box and sworn, brought both lawyers to
a state of attention; and when Thorndyke read out the cabman's evidence,
their attention soon quickened into undisguised astonishment.
"But this is a most mysterious affair," exclaimed Marchmont. "Who could
this woman have been, and what could she have been doing in Jeffrey's
chambers at this time? Can you throw any light on it, Mr. Stephen?"
"No, indeed I can't," replied Stephen. "It is a complete mystery to me.
My uncle Jeffrey was a confirmed old bachelor, and, although he did not
dislike women, he was far from partial to their society, wrapped up as
he was in his favourite studies. To the best of my belief, he had not a
single female friend. He was not on intimate terms even with his sister,
Mrs. Wilson."
"Very remarkable," mused Marchmont; "most remarkable. But, perhaps, you
can tell us, Dr. Thorndyke, who this woman was?"
"I think," replied Thorndyke, "that the next item of evidence will
enable you to form an opinion for yourselves. I only obtained it
yesterday, and, as it made my case quite complete, I wrote off to you
immediately. It is the statement of Joseph Ridley, another cabman, and
unfortunately, a rather dull, unobservant fellow, unlike Wilkins. He has
not much to tell us, but what little he has is highly instructive. Here
is the statement, signed by the deponent and witnessed by me:
"'My name is Joseph Ridley. I am the driver of a four-wheeled cab. On
the fourteenth of March, the day of the great fog, I was waiting at
Vauxhall Station, where I had just set down a fare. About five o'clock a
lady came and told me to drive over to Upper Kennington Lane to take up
a passenger. She was a middle-sized woman. I could not tell what her age
was, or what she was like, because her head was wrapped up in a sort of
knitted, woollen veil to keep out the fog. I did not notice how she was
dressed. She got into the cab and I led the horse over to Upper
Kennington Lane and a little way up the lane, until the lady tapped at
the front window for me to stop.
"'She got out of the cab and told me to wait. Then she went away and
disappeared in the fog. Presently a lady and gentleman came from the
direction in which she had gone. The lady looked like the same lady, but
I won't answer to that. Her head was wrapped up in the same kind of veil
or shawl, and I noticed that she had on a dark coloured mantle with
bead fringe on it.
"'The gentleman was clean shaved and wore spectacles, and he stooped a
good deal. I can't say whether his sight was good or bad. He helped the
lady into the cab and told me to drive to the Great Northern Station,
King's Cross. Then he got in himself and I drove off. I got to the
station about a quarter to six and the lady and gentleman got out. The
gentleman paid my fare and they both went into the station. I did not
notice anything unusual about either of them. Directly after they had
gone, I got a fresh fare and drove away.'
"That," Thorndyke concluded, "is Joseph Ridley's statement; and I think
it will enable you to give a meaning to the other facts that I have
offered for your consideration."
"I am not so sure about that," said Marchmont. "It is all exceedingly
mysterious. Your suggestion is, of course, that the woman who came to
New Inn in the cab was Mrs. Schallibaum!"
"Not at all," replied Thorndyke. "My suggestion is that the woman was
Jeffrey Blackmore."
There was deathly silence for a few moments. We were all absolutely
thunderstruck, and sat gaping at Thorndyke in speechless-astonishment.
Then--Mr. Winwood fairly bounced out of his chair.
"But--my--good--sir!" he screeched. "Jeffrey Blackmore was with her at
the time!"
"Naturally," replied Thorndyke, "my suggestion implies that the person
who was with her was not Jeffrey Blackmore."
"But he was!" bawled Winwood. "The porter saw him!"
"The porter saw a person whom he believed to be Jeffrey Blackmore. I
suggest that the porter's belief was erroneous."
"Well," snapped Winwood, "perhaps you can prove that it was. I don't see
how you are going to; but perhaps you can."
He subsided once more into his chair and glared defiantly at Thorndyke.
"You seemed," said Stephen, "to suggest some connection between the sick
man, Graves, and my uncle. I noted it at the time, but put it aside as
impossible. Was I right. Did you mean to suggest any connection?"
"I suggest something more than a connection. I suggest identity. My
position is that the sick man, Graves, was your uncle."
"From Dr. Jervis's description," said Stephen, "this man must have been
very like my uncle. Both were blind in the right eye and had very poor
vision with the left; and my uncle certainly used brushes of the kind
that you have shown us, when writing in the Japanese character, for I
have watched him and admired his skill; but--"
"But," said Marchmont, "there is the insuperable objection that, at the
very time when this man was lying sick in Kennington Lane, Mr. Jeffrey
was living at New Inn."
"What evidence is there of that?" asked Thorndyke.
"Evidence!" Marchmont exclaimed impatiently. "Why, my dear sir--"
He paused suddenly, and, leaning forward, regarded Thorndyke with a new
and rather startled expression.
"You mean to suggest--" he began.
"I suggest that Jeffrey Blackmore never lived at New Inn at all."
For the moment, Marchmont seemed absolutely paralysed by astonishment.
"This is an amazing proposition!" he exclaimed, at length. "Yet the
thing is certainly not impossible, for, now that you recall the fact, I
realize that no one who had known him previously--excepting his brother,
John--ever saw him at the inn. The question of identity was never
raised."
"Excepting," said Mr. Winwood, "in regard to the body; which was
certainly that of Jeffrey Blackmore."
"Yes, yes. Of course," said Marchmont. "I had forgotten that for the
moment. The body was identified beyond doubt. You don't dispute the
identity of the body, do you?"
"Certainly not," replied Thorndyke.
Here Mr. Winwood grasped his hair with both hands and stuck his elbows
on his knees, while Marchmont drew forth a large handkerchief and mopped
his forehead. Stephen Blackmore looked from one to the other
expectantly, and finally said:
"If I might make a suggestion, it would be that, as Dr. Thorndyke has
shown us the pieces now of the puzzle, he should be so kind as to put
them together for our information."
"Yes," agreed Marchmont, "that will be the best plan. Let us have the
argument, Doctor, and any additional evidence that you possess."
"The argument," said Thorndyke, "will be a rather long one, as the data
are so numerous, and there are some points in verification on which I
shall have to dwell in some detail. We will have some coffee to clear
our brains, and then I will bespeak your patience for what may seem like
a rather prolix demonstration."