“Now, Miss Bell,” said my uncle to me one day, “I have a nice little
job for you. A certain Mr Flowers, of Kite-street, City, has had no
fewer than five different thefts from his house within three months.
The thief seems to go very cunningly about his work, for so far he
has proved absolutely undetectable, although the police have had the
matter in hand from the first.”
“And of what nature are the things that have been stolen?” I asked.
“Well, their variety would be amusing, were it not so perplexing,”
said Mr Bell. “The first thing that was missed was a small scrip-box,
containing a recently executed will, and some important trust deeds.
Mr Flowers, I should mention, is a solicitor, who resides in rooms
over the premises on which he carries on his business. Of course, he
was in a great state about losing such responsible property. But not
the slightest clue to the perpetrators of the theft could be
discovered.
“‘If it had been my own property that had been stolen I would not
have minded so much,’ said Mr Flowers. ‘But trust deeds! it is too
dreadful.’
“Various theories were promulgated as to the nature and motives of
the thief, the most feasible one being that someone, hearing that a
relative had made a will, had conceived that it was inimical to his
interests, and had resolved to steal it from the solicitor with whom
he believed it to have been deposited. As, however, the abstracted
will was that of an old lady who had no relations or friends who
could have expected her money, even this theory suffered from
objections.
“In a few weeks it was exploded altogether, for a second robbery
took place at the house of Mr Flowers. This time it was the greater
part of the silver plate that was missing. Experts were all agreed
that the thief knew the whole of the interior arrangements of the
establishment. Clerks and servants were all subjected to rigid
cross-questioning and watching, but came out of the ordeal with
flying colours. Mr Flowers, in fact, considered them all above
suspicion. But it was natural that, for a time, the detectives
should hardly be of his opinion.
“Very soon robbery number three was discovered. Mrs Flowers’s watch
and chain had disappeared. Two days later three bank notes of £10
each were missing. These Mr Flowers was sure he had first locked in
a cashbox, then in the office safe. After watching the departure of
his two clerks, and the office boy, he carefully looked to the
safety of the windows, to which some patent burglar alarms had
lately been attached, then he locked and double-locked the office
door, taking all the keys upstairs with him, and putting them under
his pillow.
“Yet, strange to say, on entering the office next morning, before
the arrival of his clerks, he found the notes missing. All the doors
and locks were exactly as he had left them, yet, on opening the
cashbox, it was found to be empty. By this time both he and those in
his employ were thoroughly scared, and one of the clerks told me
this morning that he and his colleagues had only refrained from
giving Mr Flowers notice to leave because they feared their
reluctance to stay might be construed into a virtual admission of
their own participation in the mysterious thefts.
“This morning matters reached a climax when Mr Flowers, on rising,
discovered his own watch to have disappeared as completely as that
of his wife had done. I was sent for to see if I could throw any
light on this strange affair. I found Mr Flowers looking the picture
of rage and mystification, and his clerks were sulkily proceeding
with their work, their expressions almost indicating a dawning
disbelief in the extent of their employer’s losses. The office boy
struck me as looking rather jubilant. He evidently revels in the
sensational.
“In the more private part of the establishment things looked no
better. The lady of the house was in hysterics, and the housemaid
was packing up her clothes, and vowing that if they locked her up
for it she wouldn’t stay any longer in a place that was haunted.
Asked if she had seen anything that could warrant her assertion
that the house was haunted, she replied that nothing but a ghost
could take the money and jewellery out of locked-up places without
having been near the keys, the latter being invariably found where
they had been put before the master went to bed.
“I managed to persuade the housemaid into a more pliant frame of
mind by promising to bring her an associate to help in the work, and
keep the cook and herself company until all the mystery had been
made clear. The cook was easier to deal with, for she had arrived at
a pitch of unbelief that was positively amusing.
“‘I’m about sick of all the fuss and bother there has been lately,’
she said. ‘And I won’t be worried any more over it. It’s my opinion
that there ain’t never been a single thing stole, and that the
master’s trying to get up a sensation all for nothing.’
“‘But where are the things, if they haven’t been stolen?’ I asked.
“‘Well, betwixt you and me, I think there ain’t two ways about it.
I’ve lived in families before where they was pretty hard up for
ready money sometimes, and were only too ready to do it.’
“‘Do what?’
“‘Why, pawn ‘em, to be sure.’
“‘What, pawn banknotes?’
“‘No, the banknotes haven’t been pawned. There’s no need of that. I
expect they’ve been paid away for something on the quiet. The master
wouldn’t be the first man that had secrets from his wife.’
“‘And how about the papers? You don’t imagine anybody would take
them in pawn, do you?’
“‘Humph. As if that wasn’t a part of the bamboozlement. You don’t
throw dust in my eyes too long.’
“With this remark the cook clenched the conversation, and I must
confess that my thoughts had wandered for some time somewhat in the
same direction. The incredulous looks of at least one of the clerks
also bore out the cook’s reasoning. Still, if the object was merely
to bamboozle his wife, why should the owner of the property said to
be stolen make such a fuss, and go to such an expense to bring about
an unravelment that could but be inimical to his own interests, if
he were playing a double game? The whole case is as complex and
awkward as any I have come across, and I want your help in it.”
I had listened very attentively to my uncle’s story, and had already
framed my own idea of the duties expected of me.
“You wish me to keep a careful watch upon all the people in the
Flowers establishment, while professing to discharge domestic
duties?” I suggested.
“Precisely,” was the answer. “Both Mr and Mrs Flowers approve of the
plan, and you are expected to-day.”
A few more preliminaries being settled, I prepared myself at once
for my new duties, and found, on arriving at 15, Kite-street, that I
was supposed to be a temporary housekeeper, vice Mrs Flowers
herself, incapacitated through trouble and anxiety, consequent upon
the mysterious series of robberies that had taken place in the house.
The poor woman’s incapacity for supervising the daily routine of her
household was not feigned. She was really so ill and upset that I
advised her to put herself under the care of the family doctor, who
would give her something to quieten her nerves. Meanwhile, if she
would lie down and rest, I told her, I would see that things were so
conducted in the kitchen and elsewhere that Mr Flowers should miss
none of his accustomed comforts.
It was with a sigh of satisfaction that she yielded herself to my
arrangement, and I also found the servants easy to cope with. The
principal topic of conversation both in parlours and kitchens was
the facility with which it seemed possible for somebody or other to
take what they pleased out of the house. Before bed time I had
gleaned every possible item of information relating to the mystery,
and had formed my theory as to the true state of things.
After office hours Mr Flowers fastened his lower premises up with
all possible care, and as soon as I could do so without being
observed by the servants, I carefully examined all the fastenings,
and satisfied myself that the individual who entered from without
would be very clever indeed. He would, in fact, have to be of the
shadowy nature attributed to the thieves by the housemaid.
At twelve o’clock everyone in the house, except myself, had gone to
bed. But so far from retiring to rest myself, I had resolved to keep
careful watch all night. I had wrapped a thick woollen shawl round
my shoulders, and stationed myself so that I commanded a full view
of the doors leading from the various bedrooms. Lest I should be
observed myself, I took advantage of a portiere which shrouded a
recess used as a wardrobe, and anxiously kept the stairhead in sight.
I am not of a nervous disposition. But I confess I felt a “wee bit
eerie” as the big hall clock chimed the hours and half hours, while
all else in the house was as still as death. It was therefore with
an intense feeling of thankfulness that I at last saw Mr Flowers
emerge slowly but cautiously from his bedroom, carrying in one hand
a bunch of keys, and in the other a lighted candle. He went straight
downstairs, and, holding my very breath through fear of betraying
my presence, I followed him from the bedroom floor, to the
drawing-room floor, thence further downstairs to the basement.
Finally, walking with a strange rigidity which would have struck me
as awesome had I not conjectured its cause, he preceded me into the
cellars which underlay the whole building.
A minute or two later he was opening an old disused cupboard, into
which I saw him place two rings that he had brought downstairs with
him. It was a clear case of somnambulism. But I dare not wake him
there and then. Only pausing for an instant to consider what was
best to be done next, I noiselessly hurried upstairs, entered Mrs
Flowers’s bedroom, and roused her from a heavy slumber. I had
scarcely succeeded in making her understand me when we heard her
husband coming upstairs again. Almost beside herself with alarm, she
jumped out of bed, and, in spite of my caution, gave a loud scream
when she saw the glassy and expressionless look in her husband’s
eyes.
A moment later there was a somewhat wild scene between the two, for
Mr Flowers was rudely awakened, and could not understand my presence
in his bedroom at first. When at last he was made to comprehend the
state of affairs he expressed himself determined to get to the bottom
of the mystery at once. I retired until the pair had arrayed
themselves more decorously. Then the three of us explored the cellar
cupboard together, and just as I had expected, we found all the
precious things which Mr Flowers’s anxiety had caused his sleeping
senses to put in a place of safety, of which he had no recollection
when awake.
The shock of his sudden awakening did him no harm. But it cured his
somnambulistic tendencies, and there have been no further supposed
robberies from 15, Kite-street.