CHAPTER III

A LADY IN THE CASE

When I arrived at Thorndyke's chambers on the following morning, I found

my friend already hard at work. Breakfast was laid at one end of the

table, while at the other stood a microscope of the pattern used for

examining plate-cultures of micro-organisms, on the wide stage of which

was one of the cards bearing six thumb-prints in blood. A condenser

threw a bright spot of light on the card, which Thorndyke had been

examining when I knocked, as I gathered from the position of the chair,

which he now pushed back against the wall.

"I see you have commenced work on our problem," I remarked as, in

response to a double ring of the electric bell, Polton entered with the

materials for our repast.

"Yes," answered Thorndyke. "I have opened the campaign, supported, as

usual, by my trusty chief-of-staff; eh! Polton?"

The little man, whose intellectual, refined countenance and dignified

bearing seemed oddly out of character with the tea-tray that he carried,

smiled proudly, and, with a glance of affectionate admiration at my

friend, replied--

"Yes, sir. We haven't been letting the grass grow under our feet.

There's a beautiful negative washing upstairs and a bromide enlargement

too, which will be mounted and dried by the time you have finished your

breakfast."

"A wonderful man that, Jervis," my friend observed as his assistant

retired. "Looks like a rural dean or a chancery judge, and was obviously

intended by Nature to be a professor of physics. As an actual fact he

was first a watchmaker, then a maker of optical instruments, and now he

is mechanical factotum to a medical jurist. He is my right-hand, is

Polton; takes an idea before you have time to utter it--but you will

make his more intimate acquaintance by-and-by."

"Where did you pick him up?" I asked.

"He was an in-patient at the hospital when I first met him, miserably

ill and broken, a victim of poverty and undeserved misfortune. I gave

him one or two little jobs, and when I found what class of man he was I

took him permanently into my service. He is perfectly devoted to me, and

his gratitude is as boundless as it is uncalled for."

"What are the photographs he was referring to?" I asked.

"He is making an enlarged _facsimile_ of one of the thumb-prints on

bromide paper and a negative of the same size in case we want the print

repeated."

"You evidently have some expectation of being able to help poor Hornby,"

said I, "though I cannot imagine how you propose to go to work. To me

his case seems as hopeless a one as it is possible to conceive. One

doesn't like to condemn him, but yet his innocence seems almost

unthinkable."

"It does certainly look like a hopeless case," Thorndyke agreed, "and I

see no way out of it at present. But I make it a rule, in all cases, to

proceed on the strictly classical lines of inductive inquiry--collect

facts, make hypotheses, test them and seek for verification. And I

always endeavour to keep a perfectly open mind.

"Now, in the present case, assuming, as we must, that the robbery has

actually taken place, there are four conceivable hypotheses: (1) that

the robbery was committed by Reuben Hornby; (2) that it was committed by

Walter Hornby; (3) that it was committed by John Hornby, or (4) that it

was committed by some other person or persons.

"The last hypothesis I propose to disregard for the present and confine

myself to the examination of the other three."

"You don't think it possible that Mr. Hornby could have stolen the

diamonds out of his own safe?" I exclaimed.

"I incline at present to no one theory of the matter," replied

Thorndyke. "I merely state the hypotheses. John Hornby had access to the

diamonds, therefore it is possible that he stole them."

"But surely he was responsible to the owners."

"Not in the absence of gross negligence, which the owners would have

difficulty in proving. You see, he was what is called a gratuitous

bailee, and in such a case no responsibility for loss lies with the

bailee unless there has been gross negligence."

"But the thumb-mark, my dear fellow!" I exclaimed. "How can you possibly

get over that?"

"I don't know that I can," answered Thorndyke calmly; "but I see you are

taking the same view as the police, who persist in regarding a

finger-print as a kind of magical touchstone, a final proof, beyond

which inquiry need not go. Now, this is an entire mistake. A

finger-print is merely a fact--a very important and significant one, I

admit--but still a fact, which, like any other fact, requires to be

weighed and measured with reference to its evidential value."

"And what do you propose to do first?"

"I shall first satisfy myself that the suspected thumb-print is

identical in character with that of Reuben Hornby--of which, however,

I have very little doubt, for the finger-print experts may fairly be

trusted in their own speciality."

"And then?"

"I shall collect fresh facts, in which I look to you for assistance,

and, if we have finished breakfast, I may as well induct you into your

new duties."

He rose and rang the bell, and then, fetching from the office four

small, paper-covered notebooks, laid them before me on the table.

"One of these books," said he, "we will devote to data concerning Reuben

Hornby. You will find out anything you can--anything, mind, no matter

how trivial or apparently irrelevant--in any way connected with him and

enter it in this book." He wrote on the cover "Reuben Hornby" and passed

the book to me. "In this second book you will, in like manner, enter

anything that you can learn about Walter Hornby, and, in the third book,

data concerning John Hornby. As to the fourth book, you will keep that

for stray facts connected with the case but not coming under either of

the other headings. And now let us look at the product of Polton's

industry."

He took from his assistant's hand a photograph ten inches long by eight

broad, done on glazed bromide paper and mounted flatly on stiff card. It

showed a greatly magnified _facsimile_ of one of the thumb-prints, in

which all the minute details, such as the orifices of the sweat glands

and trifling irregularities in the ridges, which, in the original, could

be seen only with the aid of a lens, were plainly visible to the naked

eye. Moreover, the entire print was covered by a network of fine black

lines, by which it was divided into a multitude of small squares, each

square being distinguished by a number.

"Excellent, Polton," said Thorndyke approvingly; "a most admirable

enlargement. You see, Jervis, we have photographed the thumb-print in

contact with a numbered micrometer divided into square twelfths of an

inch. The magnification is eight diameters, so that the squares are here

each two-thirds of an inch in diameter. I have a number of these

micrometers of different scales, and I find them invaluable in examining

cheques, doubtful signatures and such like. I see you have packed up the

camera and the microscope, Polton; have you put in the micrometer?"

"Yes, sir," replied Polton, "and the six-inch objective and the

low-power eye-piece. Everything is in the case; and I have put 'special

rapid' plates into the dark-slides in case the light should be bad."

"Then we will go forth and beard the Scotland Yard lions in their den,"

said Thorndyke, putting on his hat and gloves.

"But surely," said I, "you are not going to drag that great microscope

to Scotland Yard, when you only want eight diameters. Haven't you a

dissecting microscope or some other portable instrument?"

"We have a most delightful instrument of the dissecting type, of

Polton's own make--he shall show it to you. But I may have need of a

more powerful instrument--and here let me give you a word of warning:

whatever you may see me do, make no comments before the officials. We

are seeking information, not giving it, you understand."

At this moment the little brass knocker on the inner door--the outer

oak being open--uttered a timid and apologetic rat-tat.

"Who the deuce can that be?" muttered Thorndyke, replacing the

microscope on the table. He strode across to the door and opened it

somewhat brusquely, but immediately whisked his hat off, and I then

perceived a lady standing on the threshold.

"Dr. Thorndyke?" she inquired, and as my colleague bowed, she continued,

"I ought to have written to ask for an appointment but the matter is

rather urgent--it concerns Mr. Reuben Hornby and I only learned from him

this morning that he had consulted you."

"Pray come in," said Thorndyke. "Dr. Jervis and I were just setting out

for Scotland Yard on this very business. Let me present you to my

colleague, who is working up the case with me."

Our visitor, a tall handsome girl of twenty or thereabouts, returned my

bow and remarked with perfect self-possession, "My name is Gibson--Miss

Juliet Gibson. My business is of a very simple character and need not

detain you many minutes."

She seated herself in the chair that Thorndyke placed for her, and

continued in a brisk and business-like manner--

"I must tell you who I am in order to explain my visit to you. For the

last six years I have lived with Mr. and Mrs. Hornby, although I am no

relation to them. I first came to the house as a sort of companion to

Mrs. Hornby, though, as I was only fifteen at the time, I need hardly

say that my duties were not very onerous; in fact, I think Mrs. Hornby

took me because I was an orphan without the proper means of getting a

livelihood, and she had no children of her own.

"Three years ago I came into a little fortune which rendered me

independent; but I had been so happy with my kind friends that I asked

to be allowed to remain with them, and there I have been ever since in

the position of an adopted daughter. Naturally, I have seen a great deal

of their nephews, who spend a good part of their time at the house, and

I need not tell you that the horrible charge against Reuben has fallen

upon us like a thunderbolt. Now, what I have come to say to you is this:

I do not believe that Reuben stole those diamonds. It is entirely out of

character with all my previous experience of him. I am convinced that he

is innocent, and I am prepared to back my opinion."

"In what way?" asked Thorndyke.

"By supplying the sinews of war," replied Miss Gibson. "I understand

that legal advice and assistance involves considerable expense."

"I am afraid you are quite correctly informed," said Thorndyke.

"Well, Reuben's pecuniary resources are, I am sure, quite small, so it

is necessary for his friends to support him, and I want you to promise

me that nothing shall be left undone that might help to prove his

innocence if I make myself responsible for any costs that he is unable

to meet. I should prefer, of course, not to appear in the matter, if it

could be avoided."

"Your friendship is of an eminently practical kind, Miss Gibson," said

my colleague, with a smile. "As a matter of fact, the costs are no

affair of mine. If the occasion arose for the exercise of your

generosity you would have to approach Mr. Reuben's solicitor through the

medium of your guardian, Mr. Hornby, and with the consent of the

accused. But I do not suppose the occasion will arise, although I am

very glad you called, as you may be able to give us valuable assistance

in other ways. For example, you might answer one or two apparently

impertinent questions."

"I should not consider any question impertinent that you considered

necessary to ask," our visitor replied.

"Then," said Thorndyke, "I will venture to inquire if any special

relations exist between you and Mr. Reuben."

"You look for the inevitable motive in a woman," said Miss Gibson,

laughing and flushing a little. "No, there have been no tender passages

between Reuben and me. We are merely old and intimate friends; in fact,

there is what I may call a tendency in another direction--Walter

Hornby."

"Do you mean that you are engaged to Mr. Walter?"

"Oh, no," she replied; "but he has asked me to marry him--he has asked

me, in fact, more than once; and I really believe that he has a sincere

attachment to me."

She made this latter statement with an odd air, as though the thing

asserted were curious and rather incredible, and the tone was evidently

noticed by Thorndyke as well as me for he rejoined--

"Of course he has. Why not?"

"Well, you see," replied Miss Gibson, "I have some six hundred a year of

my own and should not be considered a bad match for a young man like

Walter, who has neither property nor expectations, and one naturally

takes that into account. But still, as I have said, I believe he is

quite sincere in his professions and not merely attracted by my money."

"I do not find your opinion at all incredible," said Thorndyke, with a

smile, "even if Mr. Walter were quite a mercenary young man--which, I

take it, he is not."

Miss Gibson flushed very prettily as she replied--

"Oh, pray do not trouble to pay me compliments; I assure you I am by no

means insensible of my merits. But with regard to Walter Hornby, I

should be sorry to apply the term 'mercenary' to him, and yet--well, I

have never met a young man who showed a stronger appreciation of the

value of money. He means to succeed in life and I have no doubt he

will."

"And do I understand that you refused him?"

"Yes. My feelings towards him are quite friendly, but not of such a

nature as to allow me to contemplate marrying him."

"And now, to return for a moment to Mr. Reuben. You have known him for

some years?"

"I have known him intimately for six years," replied Miss Gibson.

"And what sort of character do you give him?"

"Speaking from my own observation of him," she replied, "I can say that

I have never known him to tell an untruth or do a dishonourable deed. As

to theft, it is merely ridiculous. His habits have always been

inexpensive and frugal, he is unambitious to a fault, and in respect to

the 'main chance' his indifference is as conspicuous as Walter's

keenness. He is a generous man, too, although careful and industrious."

"Thank you, Miss Gibson," said Thorndyke. "We shall apply to you for

further information as the case progresses. I am sure that you will help

us if you can, and that you can help us if you will, with your clear

head and your admirable frankness. If you will leave us your card, Dr.

Jervis and I will keep you informed of our prospects and ask for your

assistance whenever we need it."

After our fair visitor had departed, Thorndyke stood for a minute or

more gazing dreamily into the fire. Then, with a quick glance at his

watch, he resumed his hat and, catching up the microscope, handed the

camera case to me and made for the door. "How the time goes!" he

exclaimed, as we descended the stairs; "but it hasn't been wasted,

Jervis, hey?"

"No, I suppose not," I answered tentatively.

"You suppose not!" he replied. "Why here is as pretty a little problem

as you could desire--what would be called in the jargon of the novels, a

psychological problem--and it is your business to work it out, too."

"You mean as to Miss Gibson's relations with these two young men?"

Thorndyke nodded.

"Is it any concern of ours?" I asked.

"Certainly it is," he replied. "Everything is a concern of ours at this

preliminary stage. We are groping about for a clue and must let nothing

pass unscrutinised."

"Well, then, to begin with, she is not wildly infatuated with Walter

Hornby, I should say."

"No," agreed Thorndyke, laughing softly; "we may take it that the canny

Walter has not inspired a grand passion."

"Then," I resumed, "if I were a suitor for Miss Gibson's hand, I think I

would sooner stand in Reuben's shoes than in Walter's."

"There again I am with you," said Thorndyke. "Go on."

"Well," I continued, "our fair visitor conveyed to me the impression

that her evident admiration of Reuben's character was tempered by

something that she had heard from a third party. That expression of

hers, 'speaking from my own observation,' seemed to imply that her

observations of him were not in entire agreement with somebody else's."

"Good man!" exclaimed Thorndyke, slapping me on the back, to the

undissembled surprise of a policeman whom we were passing; "that is what

I had hoped for in you--the capacity to perceive the essential

underneath the obvious. Yes; somebody has been saying something about

our client, and the thing that we have to find out is, what is it that

has been said and who has been saying it. We shall have to make a

pretext for another interview with Miss Gibson."

"By the way, why didn't you ask her what she meant?" I asked foolishly.

Thorndyke grinned in my face. "Why didn't you?" he retorted.

"No," I rejoined, "I suppose it is not politic to appear too discerning.

Let me carry the microscope for a time; it is making your arm ache, I

see."

"Thanks," said he, handing the case to me and rubbing his fingers; "it

is rather ponderous."

"I can't make out what you want with this great instrument," I said. "A

common pocket lens would do all that you require. Besides, a six-inch

objective will not magnify more than two or three diameters."

"Two, with the draw-tube closed," replied Thorndyke, "and the low-power

eye-piece brings it up to four. Polton made them both for me for

examining cheques, bank-notes and other large objects. But you will

understand when you see me use the instrument, and remember, you are to

make no comments."

We had by this time arrived at the entrance to Scotland Yard, and were

passing up the narrow thoroughfare, when we encountered a uniformed

official who halted and saluted my colleague.

"Ah, I thought we should see you here before long, doctor," said he

genially. "I heard this morning that you have this thumb-print case in

hand."

"Yes," replied Thorndyke; "I am going to see what can be done for the

defence."

"Well," said the officer as he ushered us into the building, "you've

given us a good many surprises, but you'll give us a bigger one if you

can make anything of this. It's a foregone conclusion, I should say."

"My dear fellow," said Thorndyke, "there is no such thing. You mean that

there is a _prima facie_ case against the accused."

"Put it that way if you like," replied the officer, with a sly smile,

"but I think you will find this about the hardest nut you ever tried

your teeth on--and they're pretty strong teeth too, I'll say that. You

had better come into Mr. Singleton's office," and he conducted us along

a corridor and into a large, barely-furnished room, where we found a

sedate-looking gentleman seated at a large writing table.

"How-d'ye-do, doctor?" said the latter, rising and holding out his hand.

"I can guess what you've come for. Want to see that thumb-print, eh?"

"Quite right," answered Thorndyke, and then, having introduced me, he

continued: "We were partners in the last game, but we are on opposite

sides of the board this time."

"Yes," agreed Mr. Singleton; "and we are going to give you check-mate."

He unlocked a drawer and drew forth a small portfolio, from which he

extracted a piece of paper which he laid on the table. It appeared to be

a sheet torn from a perforated memorandum block, and bore the pencilled

inscription: "Handed in by Reuben at 7.3 p.m., 9.3.01. J. H." At one end

was a dark, glossy blood-stain, made by the falling of a good-sized

drop, and this was smeared slightly, apparently by a finger or thumb

having been pressed on it. Near to it were two or three smaller smears

and a remarkably distinct and clean print of a thumb.

Thorndyke gazed intently at the paper for a minute or two, scrutinising

the thumb-print and the smears in turn, but making no remark, while Mr.

Singleton watched his impassive face with expectant curiosity.

"Not much difficulty in identifying that mark," the official at length

observed.

"No," agreed Thorndyke; "it is an excellent impression and a very

distinctive pattern, even without the scar."

"Yes," rejoined Mr. Singleton; "the scar makes it absolutely conclusive.

You have a print with you, I suppose?"

"Yes," replied Thorndyke, and he drew from a wide flap-pocket the

enlarged photograph, at the sight of which Mr. Singleton's face

broadened into a smile.

"You don't want to put on spectacles to look at that," he remarked; "not

that you gain anything by so much enlargement; three diameters is ample

for studying the ridge-patterns. I see you have divided it up into

numbered squares--not a bad plan; but ours--or rather Galton's, for we

borrowed the method from him--is better for this purpose."

He drew from the portfolio a half-plate photograph of the thumb-print

which appeared magnified to about four inches in length. The print was

marked by a number of figures written minutely with a fine-pointed pen,

each figure being placed on an "island," a loop, a bifurcation or some

other striking and characteristic portion of the ridge-pattern.

"This system of marking with reference numbers," said Mr. Singleton, "is

better than your method of squares, because the numbers are only placed

at points which are important for comparison, whereas your squares or

the intersections of the lines fall arbitrarily on important or

unimportant points according to chance. Besides, we can't let you mark

our original, you know, though, of course, we can give you a photograph,

which will do as well."

"I was going to ask you to let me take a photograph presently," said

Thorndyke.

"Certainly," replied Mr. Singleton, "if you would rather have one of

your own taking. I know you don't care to take anything on trust. And

now I must get on with my work, if you will excuse me. Inspector Johnson

will give you any assistance you may require."

"And see that I don't pocket the original," added Thorndyke, with a

smile at the inspector who had shown us in.

"Oh, I'll see to that," said the latter, grinning; and, as Mr. Singleton

returned to his table, Thorndyke unlocked the microscope case and drew

forth the instrument.

"What, are you going to put it under the microscope?" exclaimed Mr.

Singleton, looking round with a broad smile.

"Must do something for my fee, you know," replied Thorndyke, as he set

up the microscope and screwed on two extra objectives to the triple

nose-piece. "You observe that there is no deception," he added to the

inspector, as he took the paper from Mr. Singleton's table and placed it

between two slips of glass.

"I'm watching you, sir," replied the officer, with a chuckle; and he did

watch, with close attention and great interest, while Thorndyke laid the

glass slips on the microscope stage and proceeded to focus.

I also watched, and was a good deal exercised in my mind by my

colleague's proceedings. After a preliminary glance with the six-inch

glass, he swung round the nose-piece to the half-inch objective and

slipped in a more powerful eye-piece, and with this power he examined

the blood-stains carefully, and then moved the thumb-print into the

field of vision. After looking at this for some time with deep

attention, he drew from the case a tiny spirit lamp which was evidently

filled with an alcoholic solution of some sodium salt, for when he lit

it I recognised the characteristic yellow sodium flame. Then he replaced

one of the objectives by a spectroscopic attachment, and having placed

the little lamp close to the microscope mirror, adjusted the

spectroscope. Evidently my friend was fixing the position of the "D"

line (or sodium line) in the spectrum.

Having completed the adjustments, he now examined afresh the

blood-smears and the thumb-print, both by transmitted and reflected

light, and I observed him hurriedly draw one or two diagrams in his

notebook. Then he replaced the spectroscope and lamp in the case and

brought forth the micrometer--a slip of rather thin glass about three

inches by one and a half--which he laid over the thumb-print in the

place of the upper plate of glass.

Having secured it in position by the clips, he moved it about, comparing

its appearance with that of the lines on the large photograph, which he

held in his hand. After a considerable amount of adjustment and

readjustment, he appeared to be satisfied, for he remarked to me--

"I think I have got the lines in the same position as they are on our

print, so, with Inspector Johnson's assistance, we will take a

photograph which we can examine at our leisure."

He extracted the camera--a quarter-plate instrument--from its case and

opened it. Then, having swung the microscope on its stand into a

horizontal position, he produced from the camera case a slab of mahogany

with three brass feet, on which he placed the camera, and which brought

the latter to a level with the eye-piece of the microscope.

The front of the camera was fitted with a short sleeve of thin black

leather, and into this the eye-piece end of the microscope was now

passed, the sleeve being secured round the barrel of the microscope by a

stout indiarubber band, thus producing a completely light-tight

connection.

Everything was now ready for taking the photograph. The light from the

window having been concentrated on the thumb-print by means of a

condenser, Thorndyke proceeded to focus the image on the ground-glass

screen with extreme care and then, slipping a small leather cap over the

objective, introduced the dark slide and drew out the shutter.

"I will ask you to sit down and remain quite still while I make the

exposure," he said to me and the inspector. "A very little vibration is

enough to destroy the sharpness of the image."

We seated ourselves accordingly, and Thorndyke then removed the cap,

standing motionless, watch in hand, while he exposed the first plate.

"We may as well take a second, in case this should not turn out quite

perfect," he said, as he replaced the cap and closed the shutter.

He reversed the dark slide and made another exposure in the same way,

and then, having removed the micrometer and replaced it by a slip of

plain glass, he made two more exposures.

"There are two plates left," he remarked, as he drew out the second dark

slide. "I think I will take a record of the blood-stain on them."

He accordingly made two more exposures--one of the larger blood-stain

and one of the smaller smears.

"There," said he, with an air of satisfaction, as he proceeded to pack

up what the inspector described as his "box of tricks." "I think we have

all the data that we can squeeze out of Scotland Yard, and I am very

much obliged to you, Mr. Singleton, for giving so many facilities to

your natural enemy, the counsel for the defence."

"Not our natural enemies, doctor," protested Mr. Singleton. "We work for

a conviction, of course, but we don't throw obstacles in the way of the

defence. You know that perfectly well."

"Of course I do, my dear sir," replied Thorndyke, shaking the official

by the hand. "Haven't I benefited by your help a score of times? But I

am greatly obliged all the same. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, doctor. I wish you luck, though I fear you will find it 'no

go' this time."

"We shall see," replied Thorndyke, and with a friendly wave of the hand

to the inspector he caught up the two cases and led the way out of the

building.

The Red Thumb Mark · 第 3 / 17 章