A DEAL IN STOCKS
FULL of his new idea, French on arrival at his office on the following
morning took from his archives the letter addressed to Mrs. Vane which
he had found in the box on that lady’s hall door and spread it out
before him on his desk.
As he looked down the list of sales and purchases of stock, he was
struck once again not only by the surprising number of the transactions,
but also of the diversity of the stocks dealt in. There were British War
Loan, Colonial Government and foreign railway stocks, as well as those
of banks, insurance companies, stores, and various industrial
concerns—some five-and-twenty altogether. He wondered from which of
them he would be most likely to obtain the desired information.
Finally he selected James Barker and _The Daily Looking Glass_, and
taking the latter first, he went to the registered offices of the
company and asked to see the secretary. His question was a simple one.
In his investigations of the affairs of a suspect, he had come across a
memorandum of the sale of £895 19s. 8d. worth of _Daily Looking Glass_
ordinary stock. Could the secretary please inform him either of the
parties to the transaction or of the stockbroker through whom it was
carried out?
The secretary was dubious. He asked French the date of the sale, and
when the latter replied that he did not know, dilated on the complexity
of the search. This ignorance as to time, together with the constantly
varying value of the stock, made the sale very difficult to trace; in
fact he was not sure that the information could be obtained. French in
his turn dilated on the urgency and importance of the matter, with the
result that two clerks were set to work and a report promised for the
earliest possible moment.
So far so good, but this was not enough. French went on to James
Barker’s, where he set similar inquiries on foot. Then, anxious to leave
no stone unturned, he asked the same questions at the registered office
of the Picardie Hotel.
The latter was the first to reply. The secretary telephoned to say that
he had had a careful search made, and that no transaction covering the
exact amount in question had taken place. Nothing within eight pounds of
the figure given by Inspector French had been dealt with.
He had scarcely finished the conversation when the secretary of James
Barker rang up. He, too, had made a careful search for several years
back, and he, too, had found that stock of the amount mentioned by the
Inspector had not changed hands during the period. On the 2nd March
previously a sale had taken place of slightly over a pound more than the
Inspector’s figure, £1 2s. 1d. to be exact, but with the exception of
this there was nothing very close to it. An hour later came a similar
reply from the Picardie Hotel. No transaction could be traced within ten
pounds of the amount mentioned by the Inspector.
Could the discrepancies, French wondered, represent broker’s commission,
stamp duties or tax of some kind? To make sure of this would, he
thought, be a tedious business, involving research through the books of
a considerable number of the companies concerned. He was rather ignorant
of the business of stockbroking, and he had no idea of the scale of the
brokers’ fees nor how these were paid. He thought, however, that if in
the case of, say, six companies, a note were made of the names of those
concerned with all transactions of amounts approximating to those
mentioned in Mrs. Vane’s letter, and if the same broker, seller, or
purchaser occurred in the deals of each company, he would be justified
in assuming that person had some connection with Mrs. Vane. It was
somewhat complicated as well as unpleasantly vague, but it did at least
represent a clue. French decided he would get on with it, though exactly
how he did not see.
After some thought he decided he would put his problem before a
stockbroker friend of his own. George Hewett was junior partner of a
small firm with offices in Norfolk Street off the Strand, and French,
having made an appointment for fifteen minutes later, put the list in
his pocket and set off to walk along the Embankment.
His friend greeted him as a long-lost brother, and after lighting up
cigars, they discussed old times as well as the testamentary affairs of
one Bolsover, deceased, which had involved a Chancery action in which
Hewett had given evidence. That subject exhausted, French turned to his
immediate business. He handed his list to the other, and telling his
story, ended up by asking for an expert opinion on the whole affair.
The stockbroker took the paper and glanced rapidly down it; then he
began to reread it more slowly. French sat watching him, puffing the
while at his cigar. Finally the other made his pronouncement.
“Hanged if I know, French. It is evidently a statement of some one’s
dealings in the money market, but it’s not in the form a professional
man would use. In fact, I never saw anything quite like it before.”
“Yes?” French prompted. “In what way is it different from what you’re
accustomed to?”
Hewett shrugged his shoulders.
“I suppose if I said in every way, I shouldn’t be far wrong. First
place, there are no dates for the transactions. Of course if the
statement was only intended to show the net result of the deals the
dates wouldn’t so much matter, but a stockbroker would have put them in.
Then it’s impossible to get at any idea back of the sales. You see here
that 4% War Loan was sold and 5% War Loan was bought; Great Westerns
were sold and North-Easterns bought, while Australian 6% was sold and
British East Africa 6% bought. These stocks are all pretty much the same
in value, and there was nothing to be gained by selling one and buying
another. Same way no sensible man would sell Alliance Assurance and buy
Amalgamated Oils. You get what I mean?”
“Quite. But mightn’t the operator have been ignorant or misled as to the
values?”
“Of course he might, and no doubt was. But even allowing for that, he’s
had a rum notion of stock exchange business. Then these small items are
unusual. What does ‘balances’ mean? And why are ‘telegrams’ shown as a
sale and not a purchase? I don’t mind admitting, French, that the thing
beats me. It’s the sort of business you’d expect to be done on the stock
exchange in Bedlam, if there is one.”
“I tried to get at the operator through the secretaries of some of those
companies, but that was no good.”
“Which ones?”
“_The Daily Looking Glass_, James Barker, and the Picardie Hotel.”
“And they couldn’t help you?”
“They said no transactions of those exact figures had been carried out.
The nearest were within a few pounds of what I wanted. I wondered would
the amounts include brokers’ fees or stamp duty or taxes of any kind
which would account for the difference?”
“I don’t think so.” Hewett pored in silence over the paper for some
seconds, then he turned and faced his visitor. “Look here,” he went on
deliberately, “do you want to know what I think?”
“That’s what I came for,” French reminded him.
“Very well, I’ll tell you. I think the whole thing is just a blooming
fraud. And do you know what makes me sure of it?”
French shook his head.
“Well, it’s a thing you might have found out for yourself. It doesn’t
add. Those figures at the bottom are not the sum of the lines. The
thing’s just a blooming fraud.”
French cursed himself for his oversight, then suddenly a startling idea
flashed into his mind. Suppose this list of sales and purchases had
nothing whatever to do with finance. Suppose it conveyed a hidden
message by means of some secret code or cipher. Was that a possibility?
His voice trembled slightly, as with a haste verging on something very
different from his usual Soapy Joe politeness he took his leave.
He hurried back to the Yard, eagerly anxious to get to work on his new
inspiration, and reaching his office he spread the list on his desk and
sat down to study it. It read:
Stock and Share List
_Bought_ _Sold_
£ _s._ _d._ £ _s._ _d._
1. War Loan 5% 328 4 2
2. Australia 6% 568 5 0
3. Great Western Ord. 1039 1 3
4. Associated News Ord. 936 6 3
5. Aerated Bread 713 9 2
6. Barclay’s Bank 991 18 1
7. Alliance Assurance 394 10 19
8. Lyons 463 17 5
9. Picardie Hotel 205 14 11
10. Anglo-American Oil 748 3 9
11. War Loan 4% 403 18 10
12. British East Africa 6% 401 3 9
13. L. & N. E. 292 1 1
14. Brit. American Tobacco 898 5 7
15. Army & Navy Stores 1039 0 4
16. Lloyd’s Bank 586 10 10
17. Atlas Assurance 922 4 5
18. Telegrams 16 7
19. Maple 90 19 6
20. Mappin & Webb 463 4 5
21. Amalgamated Oils 748 5 7
22. War Loan 4½% 568 2 3
23. Canadian Govt. 3½% 958 5 6
24. Balances 17 3
25. Metropolitan Railway 812 10 4
26. _Daily Looking Glass_ Ord. 895 19 8
27. J. Barker 371 18 11
--- --- --- --- --- ---
£6935 12 1 £9127 18 2
6935 12 1
--- --- ---
£2192 6 1
The first question which occurred to French was whether, assuming the
list did contain some secret message, this was hidden in the names of
the stocks or in the money, or in both?
Taking the former idea first, he began trying to form words out of
certain letters of the names, selected on various plans. The initials,
W, A, G, A, A, . . . were not promising, even when read bottom upwards,
J, D, M, B, C. . . . Nor were the final letters, downwards and upwards,
any better. Those next the initials and the penultimates were equally
hopeless, nor did diagonal arrangements promise better.
French tried every plan he could think of, working steadily and
methodically through the various cases of each, and not leaving it until
he was satisfied that he was on the wrong track. He came on no solution,
but he did make one discovery which seemed to indicate that the message,
if such existed, was contained in the money columns rather than in the
names. He noticed that in the majority of cases the names of the various
stocks began with one of the earlier letters of the alphabet, and where
this did not obtain, the stock in question was one of the first of that
kind of stock to be quoted. He picked up a _Daily Mail_ and looked at
the financial page. The stocks were divided under various headings,
British Stocks, Overseas Dominions, Home Railways, Canadian and Foreign
Railways, and such like. The first division was British Stocks, and the
first item in it was War Loan 5%. But the first item on Mrs. Vane’s list
was War Loan 5%.
The second item on the list was Australia 6%, and referring to the
_Daily Mail_ once more, French saw that Australia 6% was the first item
on the second division. This was sufficiently interesting, but when he
found that the next five items, Great Western, Associated News, Aerated
Bread, Barclay’s Bank, and Alliance Assurance were each the first of
their respective divisions, he felt he had stumbled upon something more
than a coincidence.
He re-examined the list on this new basis, only to find his conclusions
verified. Apparently the person writing it had simply copied down the
stocks given in some paper—probably the _Daily Mail_. In order to
obtain variety and to make an unsuspicious-looking list, he had not
simply copied them consecutively; he had taken the first out of each
division. Then he had gone over the divisions again, using the second
name in each case, and so on until he had obtained the whole twenty-five
names that he had required. It had not been done with absolute accuracy,
but there was no doubt of the general method. From this it followed that
any message which the list might convey was contained in the money
columns, and French accordingly transferred his attention to the latter.
The amounts extended from 16s. 7d. up to £1039, and varied surprisingly
between these extremes. There were none in the £100’s or the £600’s, but
all the other hundreds were represented. Speaking broadly, there were
more of the £800’s and £900’s than of the lower numbers. But he could
not see where any of these facts tended.
There being no obvious line of research, he began a laborious and
detailed investigation into the possibilities of substitution, that is,
one of those ciphers in which a number or other sign is used to denote a
letter. It was clear that single numbers were insufficient for this
purpose, as in that case only ten letters of the alphabet could be used.
Some combination was therefore involved, and French tried various
schemes of addition to meet the case. But though he got three men to
assist him in the details of his various tests, he could not find
anything which gave the least suggestion of an intelligible combination.
While engaged in this manner, he noticed that so far as the pounds were
concerned there were no less than three similar pairs, numbers 2 and 22,
3 and 15, and 10 and 21. He examined these pairs for some time, and then
he suddenly made a discovery which seemed to show that at last he was on
the right track. He had put the figures down beside each other, so:
£ _s._ _d._
No. 2 568 5 0
No. 22 568 2 3
when suddenly he noticed that if the shilling and pence of each item
were added the result would be the same: 5+0=5; 2+3=5. Eagerly he turned
to the other pairs and wrote them out similarly,
£ _s._ _d._
No. 3 1039 1 3
No. 15 1039 0 4
and,
£ _s._ _d._
No. 10 748 3 9
No. 21 748 5 7
Here he saw at a glance that the same thing obtained, the pounds alone,
and the pence and shillings added together, making two similar pairs,
and therefore presumably standing for the same word.
This discovery restored all his eager interest. It seemed definitely to
prove three things, each several one of which afforded him the liveliest
satisfaction. First, these combinations of figures proved that there
really was some underlying scheme, and that in its turn involved the
hidden message; secondly, they showed that he, French, was on the direct
road towards a solution; and thirdly, they indicated a code or cipher
built up of pairs of numbers, a frequent combination, embracing many
well-known varieties of cryptogram.
His next step was, therefore, to rewrite the list in dual column, the
pounds in front, the pence and shillings added together behind. This
gave him a new jumping-off place in the following:
328—6
568—5
1039—4
936—9
713—11, and so on.
On this he started his three men, making them try to work out keys on
squares and parallelograms, as well as in other well-established ways.
Then the pounds figure proving too large for this, he tried adding the
various digits of these figures together. In this way, 328 became 3+2+8
or 13, and so he compiled a second list beginning:
13—6
19—5
13—4
But in spite of all his own and his men’s efforts he was unable to find
any clue to the key. They worked until long after the usual quitting
time, and at length he had to agree to an adjournment for the night.
Next day he again attacked the problem, but it was not until well on in
the afternoon that he made an advance. Tired and dispirited, he had sent
for a cup of coffee to clear his brain, and after it he had, contrary to
his custom, lighted his pipe, while he leaned comfortably back in his
chair still turning the matter over in his mind. He was beginning to
think the puzzle insoluble, when suddenly an idea flashed into his mind,
and he sat up sharply, wondering if he had hit on the solution.
He had been considering numerical ciphers of which the key is some book.
These consist usually of sets of three numbers, the first representing
the page, the second the line on that page, and the third the word on
that line. But he recognised that one of these latter numbers might be a
constant, that is, that the word should always be on, say, the fifth
line of the page, or that it should be the first or second of the line.
In this way the cipher could be worked with pairs of numbers. The
difficulty in these cases was of course to find the book which each of
the communicating parties used.
So far had he progressed when he got his great idea. Where had he seen a
book which seemed strangely out of keeping with its fellows? Of course!
That was it at last! The _Concise Oxford Dictionary_ in Mrs. Vane’s
sitting-room!
As he thought over this he felt more and more certain that he had
reached the explanation. Not only was there the fact of the book being
there, but a dictionary was obviously not only the kind of book best
suited for the purpose, but also that best suited for a dual number
system. The first number would represent the page and the second the
word on that page. The idea, further, was confirmed by the fact that
while the figure for the pounds—or pages—ran 1 to about 1000, that for
the shillings and pence—or words on the page—never rose above 30.
There was no doubt, French thought, that he had got it at last.
At Scotland Yard all things are procurable at short notice. He rang up a
subordinate and gave urgent instructions that a _Concise Oxford
Dictionary_ was to be obtained immediately and sent up to him.
Five minutes later he was eagerly turning over the leaves. It took but a
second or two to find page 328, and another second to count down to the
sixth word. It was “French.”
Without waiting to consider whether this might refer to himself, in
which case he had found the solution, or merely be a coincidence, in
which case he hadn’t, he hastily went on to the next number. Page 568,
word 5, was “On.”
“French on.” Still it might make sense or it might not. He looked up No.
3.
The fourth word on the 1039th page was “Your.” “French on your” was
going all right, but when he turned up No. 4 and found that the ninth
word on page 936 was “Track,” all doubt was at an end. “French on your
track.” He had got it with a vengeance!
The remaining words came easily until he came to number 17, Atlas
Assurance £922 4s. 5d. The ninth word on page 922 did not make sense.
But he had gone so far that this further problem could not long hold him
up. After a very few seconds he saw that if he added the shillings and
pence of the following line—which showed no figure in the pounds
column—to those of the £922, he found the word he wanted. It simply
meant that there were more than thirty words preceding that in question
on that page of the dictionary. 19 and 11, or 30, was the largest number
one line of shillings and pence would show, therefore a larger number
than 30 required two lines of shillings and pence to one of pounds. The
word “telegrams” had evidently been written as a blind, and he soon saw
that the item “balance” was wanted for a similar purpose. After this a
few minutes sufficed to turn up all the words, and presently he sat back
and looked at the completed result of his work.
“French on your track rendezvous victory hotel lee d s if i fail
take your own ticket boat leave s on twenty six t h.”
This as it stood was clear, but he rewrote it, putting in stops and
capitals, and joining the broken words.
“French on your track. Rendezvous Victory Hotel, Leeds. If I
fail take your own ticket. Boat leaves on twenty-sixth.”
So they were trying to escape by sea, Mrs. Vane and the person who had
sent her the warning! Who that person was, French had but little doubt.
Almost certainly it was Mr. Vane, and if so, it seemed to him also
beyond reasonable doubt that Mr. Vane was the murderer. At all events,
whether or not, the person who had sent cipher directions to Mrs. Vane
regarding their joint flight was the person he wanted. He chuckled to
himself as he thought that he would soon know all about it now. He would
soon find the boat they were sailing in, and then he would have them in
the hollow of his hand.
But would he? As his eye fell on the almanac hanging above the
chimneypiece he swore. Inexorably it reminded him that this was the
twenty-sixth. The steamer had left on that very day!
But be that as it might, his procedure was clear. He must find the boat.
For a moment he sat considering ways and means, and then his attention
was attracted to the wording of the last phrase of the message: “Boat
leaves on twenty-sixth.” This surely suggested a clue—that the service
was other than daily. Had the latter obtained, the phrase would have
been, “Take next Thursday’s boat,” or words to that effect. If his
deduction was correct, it meant that the steamer was a sea-going ship,
not merely a cross-Channel packet. This view, moreover, was to some
extent supported by the probability that the fugitives would almost
certainly make for a distant rather than an adjacent country.
From where, then, in the neighbourhood of Leeds, did steamers start to
distant lands? Liverpool was, of course, the obvious answer, but it need
not necessarily be Liverpool. From Hull and Grimsby, or even Manchester
and Goole, ships left for foreign ports. It would be necessary to make a
list of all the ocean-going steamers which left all the ports near Leeds
on the current date.
Late though it was, French stuck to his task. A study of the shipping
news revealed the fact that seven steamers were booked to leave
Liverpool and Hull and the ports adjoining. From Liverpool there was a
White Star liner to Boston and Philadelphia, a Lamport & Holt boat to
Buenos Aires and Rosario, a Booth liner to Para and Manáos, and a Bibby
liner to Egypt, Colombo and Rangoon. From Hull, a Finland liner sailed
to Helsingfors and a Wilson boat to Copenhagen, while another Wilson
liner left Grimsby for Christiansand. Besides these, there were
doubtless numbers of cargo boats, some of which might take passengers,
but these were the only regular liners, and French determined to try
them first.
He called up the head office of each of the lines in question and asked
had any persons named Vane booked passages on their ships leaving on
that day, and if not, could they tell him if a couple answering the
description which he gave had done so. There was a considerable delay in
getting replies, but when he received that from the Booth Line he did
not grudge the loss of time. It stated that a Mr. and Mrs. Vane, of
Crewe Lodge, St. John’s Wood Road, had booked passages to Manáos by the
_Enoch_, which left Liverpool at 3.00 p.m. that afternoon; further,
these persons had gone on board at Liverpool, and as far as the head
office knew, had actually sailed.
French was a trifle hazy about the Booth Line. He knew that Manáos was
in South America—Brazil, he imagined, but whether the steamer sailed
there direct or made intermediate calls at which it might be overtaken
and at which an arrest might be made, he did not know.
He telephoned to have the information sent up to him. “The last lap!” he
thought contentedly, as he pictured the arrival of the steamer at Manáos
and the descent of the fugitives on to the wharf into the clutches of
the waiting police. And for him it would mean not only the completion of
a peculiarly worrying and difficult case, but undoubted kudos, if not
actual promotion.