Owing to the instrumentality of Paul Harley, the public never learned
that the awful riverside murder called by the Press in reference to
the victim's shaven skull “the barber atrocity” had any relation to the
Deepbrow case. It was physically impossible to identify the victim, and
Harley had his own reasons for concealing the truth. The house on the
wharf with its choice Oriental furniture was seized by the police;
but, strange to relate, no arrest was made in connection with this most
gruesome outrage. The man who dropped through the trap had been wounded
by one of Harley's shots, and he sank for the last time under the very
eyes of the crew of the police cutter.
It was at a late hour on the night of this concluding tragedy that I
learned the amazing truth underlying the case. Wessex was still at work
in the East End upon the hundred and one formalities which attached to
his office, and Harley and I sat in the study of my friend's chambers in
Chancery Lane.
“You see,” Harley was explaining. “I got my first clue down at Deepbrow.
The tracks leading to the motor-car. They showed--to anyone not hampered
by a preconceived opinion--that the girl and Vane had not gone on
together (since the man's footprints proved him to have been running),
but that she had gone first and that he had run after her! Arguments:
(a) He heard the approach of the car; or (b) he heard her call for help.
In fact, it almost immediately became evident to me that someone else
had met her at the end of the lane; probably someone who expected her,
and whom she was going to meet when she, accidentally, encountered Vane!
The captain was not attired for an elopement, and, more significant
still, he said he should stroll to the Deep Wood, and that was where he
did stroll to; for it borders the road at this point!
“I had privately ascertained, from the postman, that Molly Clayton
actually received a letter on that morning! This resolved my last doubt.
She was not going to meet Vane on the night of her disappearance.
“Then whom?”
“The old love! He who some months earlier had had over fifty seductive
pictures of this undoubtedly pretty girl prepared for a purpose of his
own!”
“Vane interfered?”
“When the girl saw that they meant to take her away, she no doubt made
a fuss! He ran to the rescue! They had not reckoned on his being there,
but these are clever villains, who leave no clues--except for one who
has met them on their own ground!”
“On their own ground! What do you mean, Harley? Who are these people?”
“Well--where do you suppose those fifty photographs went?”
“I cannot conjecture!”
“Then I will tell you. The turmoil in the East has put wealth and power
into unscrupulous hands. But even before the war there were marts,
Knox--open marts--at which a Negro girl might be purchased for some 30
pounds, and a Circassian for anything from 250 pounds to 500 pounds! Ah!
You stare! But I assure you it was so. Here is the point, though: there
were, and still are, private dealers! Those photographs were circulated
among the nouveaux riches of the East! They were employed in the same
way that any other merchant employs a catalogue. They reached the hands
of many an opulent and abandoned 'profiteer' of Damascus, Stambul--where
you will. Molly's picture would be one of many. Remember that hundreds
of pretty girls disappear from their homes--taking the whole of the
world--every year. Clearly, English beauty is popular at the moment!
And,” he added bitterly, “the arch-villain has escaped!”
“Ali of Cairo!” I cried. “Then Ali of Cairo------”
“Is the biggest slave-dealer in the East!”
“Good God! Harley--at last I understand!”
“I was slow enough to understand it myself, Knox. But once the theory
presented itself I asked Wessex to get into immediate touch with the
valet he had already interviewed at Deepbrow. It was the result of his
inquiry to which he referred when we met him at Scotland Yard to-night.
Captain Vane had a large mole on his shoulder and a girl's name,
together with a small device, tattooed on his forearm--a freak of his
Sandhurst days------”
“Then 'the man with the shaven skull'------”
“Is Captain Ronald Vane! May he rest in peace. But I never shall until
the crook-back dealer in humanity has met his just deserts.”