THE PROOF OF THE CAMERA.
Society generally had plenty to talk about in the way of scandal next
morning, when it became known that Spencer Anstruther had been
arrested in connection with the burglary of the City and Provincial
Bank. The only paper giving anything like the account of the arrest,
naturally, was the _Planet_, which paper vaguely hinted at further
disclosures in the early future. Jack read the account over the
breakfast table, and smiled as he recognized the hand of Rigby in all
this. He would see Rigby presently, and ascertain exactly what had
taken place last night at the Great Metropolitan Hotel. First of all,
he had to see Lady Barmouth, who had already heard something of the
news. She listened with vivid interest to all that Jack had to say,
then announced her intention of going to Panton Square at once.
"I shall bring my sister and Claire here." she said. "They shall stay
as long as they please. As to my sister and her boy, I shall be
delighted to have them. I presume there will be some sort of
proceedings against Anstruther this morning?"
To the great disappointment of the public, when Anstruther came to be
charged at Bow Street the evidence was purely formal. The prisoner had
elected not to be represented by a lawyer, and, with a view of
expediting the proceedings, had formally pleaded guilty to the charge,
and asked to be committed to the Central Criminal Court, which took
place a week from now. "Clever chap that," Bates said, as he and
Rigby, together with Jack, turned into Covent Garden. "Pretty cool,
too. He wants to save time, of course, and get the thing over before
we can complete our chain of evidence. But I fancy that by the end of
a week we shall be able to produce all the witnesses we want."
"I expect so," Rigby said. "By the way, don't forget about that
service of plate. Seymour says it ought to be conveyed to Scotland
Yard and the photographs taken at once. I have a letter from Seymour
in my pocket in which he asks me to go round and see Sir Frederick
Ormond, induce that gentleman to take the sealed crystal ball to your
headquarters, and to see that the seal is not broken, except in the
presence of one of your leading officials. Then you can get both sets
of photographs done at once."
Bates had his hands full for the next few hours. Then, towards four
o'clock, he made his way to Carrington's flat. Under plea of
indisposition, the latter had not been out for a day or so; but, as a
matter of fact, Bates had given him a pretty broad hint to keep clear
of the bank premises, and to consider himself more or less as a
prisoner on parole. Carrington's knees knocked together, and his face
turned deadly pale as Bates came into the room.
"So you have come again," he stammered. "I hope, perhaps, that--don't
say I am your prisoner."
"I am afraid that's what it comes to," Bates said. "We can't let you
off altogether, you know. But you help us, and give us all the
information in your power, and I'll do my best to get you let off as
lightly as possible. It makes all the difference between two years'
imprisonment and seven years' penal servitude."
"Am I to come with you now?" Carrington managed to stammer out. "Is
there no such thing as bail?"
Bates shook his head. Carrington would have to pass the night, and
doubtless a good many succeeding nights, in the police cells; but,
first of all, they were going as far as the bank. Bates explained that
there was no reason, for the present, why Carrington should stand
confessed as a prisoner. The bank officials need know nothing whatever
about it. What Carrington had to do now was to hand over the service
of Cellini plate at present locked up in his private safe. The
detective gave his promise that the plate in question should be
restored to its proper owner in due course, though he refused to
gratify Carrington's curiosity as to why he had specially selected
this particular art treasure.
An hour later the Cellini plate was safe in Bow Street, together with
the crystal globe; and before the week was out both articles had
undergone some mysterious process of photography, not altogether
unconnected with sheets of glass. Meanwhile, Anstruther was preparing
his defense as best he could, and Carrington had been twice remanded
on a charge of fraudulently dealing with the property of his clients.
The two cases excited the greatest interest, and on the following
Monday morning the Central Criminal Court was packed with society
people eager to hear the charges against Spencer Anstruther.
Anstruther stood there, quite calm and collected, with just the touch
of a cynical smile on his lips. He looked round the court as if in
search of acquaintances, but no one responded. Many people whom he
knew quite well affected to look over his head. But cool and
deliberate as he was, Anstruther had all his work cut out to keep his
feelings in control when the barrister who represented the Crown
proceeded to call witnesses. The name of Seymour resounded down the
corridor, and a tall man with his face muffled up and a slouch hat on
his head stepped into the box. He bowed gravely to the judge, and
apologized for wearing his hat. A moment later his hat and coat
slipped away, and he turned his face half defiantly to the light.
There was an instant's breathless pause, then a veritable shout of
astonishment, as the Nostalgo of the posters stood face to face with
those whose curiosity had been so deeply touched during the past four
months.
"My name is Seymour," he said quietly, as if quite unconscious of the
tremendous sensation his appearance had excited. "I have known the
prisoner for some years. Before I unfortunately made his acquaintance,
I was not the human wreck you see now, but a man like my fellows. But
I need not go into that. What I propose to do now is to tell the story
of the burglary at the City and Provincial Bank.
"Previous to my visit to Mexico, I occupied with Mr. Carrington the
rooms which are now his. I have in my pocket a latch-key which opens
the front door. It matters little now why I wanted to make a search of
Mr. Carrington's rooms, but I did make that search, and I was hidden
in the conservatory behind the smoking-room with Mr. John Masefield on
the night that the prisoner and Carrington planned the sham burglary
at the bank. The whole scheme was revealed to us, and I shall be
prepared to tell the jury presently what steps I took to see the
so-called burglary carried out. It is sufficient for the present to
say that it was carried out, and that I witnessed the whole
proceedings in the company of Mr. Masefield and a journalist on the
staff of the _Planet_, Mr. Rigby by name.
"I should like, at this point, to call the attention of the jury to
what we saw when the bank strong room was forced. So far as valuables
are concerned, the safe was practically empty, save for a service of
Cellini silver plate. Other witnesses beside myself will tell you that
the prisoner claimed that plate as a reward for the ingenious way in
which he had plotted to preserve Carrington's reputation. When I heard
this, a sudden inspiration came to me. With a piece of greasy rag I
hastily smeared the surface of the set of plate. I will come to my
reason for doing that presently. When the whole affair had been
finished, the prisoner was half minded to take the service of plate
back with him at once to his house in Panton Square. But Carrington
dissuaded him from this on the grounds of prudence. Therefore the
prisoner carried the plate up-stairs and deposited it in Carrington's
private safe. There it remained for a day or two, pending some way of
conveying it to Panton Square.
"But in the meanwhile something happened which aroused the prisoner's
suspicions. He made up his mind that he would himself remove the plate
from Carrington's safe by means of another burglary. Carrington
refused to have anything to do with this, but the prisoner got his own
way by the simple expedient of stealing Carrington's keys. The
prisoner is more or less intimately acquainted with some of the
cleverest thieves and housebreakers in London. There was no time to
call in an honest expert to open Carrington's safe, but the prisoner
was equal to the occasion. He called upon a well-known housebreaker
who passes by the name of 'Simple Charlie.' I know this, because for
some time I have been watching the man in the dock. I have my own
reasons for keeping quiet and living in an out-of-the-way place, and I
have a set of rooms fitted up in what is more or less a common lodging
house.
"By good fortune the man known as 'Simple Charlie' had rooms in the
same block of buildings. When the prisoner called upon him the
housebreaker was out, so that a note was left for him. This note I
managed to get hold of and read. Together with a friend of mine named
Ferris, we laid a little plot for 'Simple Charlie.' We compelled him
to find a substitute who would operate upon the safe, and that
substitute was no other than Inspector Bates, as doubtless he will
tell you later on."
It must be clearly understood that Seymour did not stand in the box
and reel off his evidence in the glib way of one who is making a
speech for the prosecution. On the contrary, the fascinating evidence
he gave was in reply to questions asked by the representative of the
Crown, occasionally supplemented by a query or two from the judge. All
this time Anstruther stood in the dock, his face knitted in an ugly
frown. Despite his easy air, his confidence was fast deserting him.
Any other man would have been crushed and broken by the deadly weight
of a testimony like that of Seymour's. In his heart of hearts
Anstruther was sick and frightened. Never for a moment had he dreamed
of anything like this. Seymour stood before him without a trace of
expression on his scarred, repulsive face. And yet every word he
uttered was as another month on the long sentence he was already
anticipating.
Anstruther came out of a dream presently, and realized with a start
that Seymour's deadly revelations were still going on. A moment later,
and the Crown Counsel suggested that Seymour should stand down for a
moment, and that Bates should take his place. The detective came into
the box alert and smiling. He told how he had impersonated the
mythical Maggs, and how he had accompanied Anstruther to the City and
Provincial Bank.
"At this point I should like to ask you a few questions." said Counsel
for the Crown. "I understand that you have become possessed of the
service of silver plate to which the last witness has already alluded.
He spoke just now of some device of his whereby the service of plate
was smeared with grease as it lay on the floor of the vault, and
before it was conveyed to Carrington's safe. Now, has this any
important bearing on the case?"
"I think you will find that it has an exceedingly important bearing on
the case," Bates said. "You will remember, sir, that Mr. Seymour made
a special request that the plate should be carefully photographed. You
will remember, also, that the prisoner himself carried the plate to
the safe and deposited it inside. We have had the plate carefully
photographed, with a view to identification by means of finger marks.
That is what we call a part of the Bertillon system. But, perhaps, I
had better explain."
Bates's explanation was carefully followed by an almost breathless
audience. Bates held up a sheet of glass in his hand.
"I have here," he said, "a photograph taken from a silver cigar case.
It is the considerably enlarged impression of finger prints left on
the cigar case by a burglar who was scared away before he could secure
his booty. By comparison of this impression from the cigar case side
by side with one of the other permanent prints at Scotland Yard we
were enabled to identify and convict the thief."
"Quite so," the barrister said. "The jury follows you. Is it your
intention to prove that on the Cellini plate marks have been found
corresponding with the lines on the prisoner's hand?"
"This is preposterous," Anstruther cried. "It is nothing less than a
vile conspiracy. I defy the police to be able to prove that the marks
of my fingers are on the plate. And even if there was more resemblance
discovered it would be out of the question for the police to compare
them with any impression of my own."
"You are doing no good to your case," the judge interposed. "You will
have plenty of opportunity to ask questions later on."
"With the permission of the jury I shall prove that," Bates said.
"Before I proceed any further, may I ask your lordship if you will
have Sir Frederick Ormond called? Sir Frederick will recollect the
night of Lady Barmouth's dance, when one of the guests, disguised as a
magician, gave him a sealed packet to take care of. When that packet
came to be unsealed and photographed by our experts, we had no
difficulty in discovering----"
A deep groan broke from Anstruther's lips.
"By Heaven!" he cried. "I had forgotten the crystal!"