THE VANISHING MAN
A Detective Romance
BY R. AUSTIN FREEMAN
1911
TO MY FRIEND
A.E.B.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE VANISHING MAN
II THE EAVESDROPPER
III JOHN THORNDYKE
IV LEGAL COMPLICATIONS AND A JACKAL
V THE WATERCRESS-BED
VI SIDELIGHTS
VII JOHN BELLINGHAM'S WILL
VIII A MUSEUM IDYLL
IX THE SPHINX OF LINCOLN'S INN
X THE NEW ALLIANCE
XI THE EVIDENCE REVIEWED
XII A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY
XIII THE CROWNER'S QUEST
XIV WHICH CARRIES THE READER INTO THE
PROBATE COURT
XV CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
XVI "O! ARTEMIDORUS, FAREWELL!"
XVII THE ACCUSING FINGER
XVIII JOHN BELLINGHAM
XIX A STRANGE SYMPOSIUM
XX THE END OF THE CASE
CHAPTER I
THE VANISHING MAN
The school of St. Margaret's Hospital was fortunate in its lecturer on
Medical Jurisprudence, or Forensic Medicine, as it is sometimes
described. At some schools the lecturer on this subject is appointed
apparently for the reason that he lacks the qualifications to lecture on
any other. But with us it was very different: John Thorndyke was not
only an enthusiast, a man of profound learning and great reputation, but
he was an exceptional teacher, lively and fascinating in style and of
endless resources. Every remarkable case that had ever been recorded he
appeared to have at his fingers' ends; every fact--chemical, physical,
biological, or even historical--that could in any way be twisted into a
medico-legal significance, was pressed into his service; and his own
varied and curious experiences seemed as inexhaustible as the widow's
cruse. One of his favourite devices for giving life and interest to a
rather dry subject was that of analysing and commenting upon
contemporary cases as reported in the papers (always, of course, with a
due regard to the legal and social proprieties); and it was in this way
that I first became introduced to the astonishing series of events that
was destined to exercise so great an influence on my own life.
The lecture which had just been concluded had dealt with the rather
unsatisfactory subject of survivorship. Most of the students had left
the theatre, and the remainder had gathered round the lecturer's table
to listen to the informal comments that Dr. Thorndyke was wont to
deliver on these occasions in an easy, conversational manner, leaning
against the edge of the table and apparently addressing his remarks to a
stick of blackboard chalk that he held in his fingers.
"The problem of survivorship," he was saying, in reply to a question put
by one of the students, "ordinarily occurs in cases where the bodies of
the parties are producible, or where, at any rate, the occurrence of
death and its approximate time are actually known. But an analogous
difficulty may arise in a case where the body of one of the parties is
not forthcoming, and the fact of death may have to be assumed on
collateral evidence.
"Here, of course, the vital question to be settled is, what is the
latest instant at which it is certain that this person was alive? And
the settlement of that question may turn on some circumstance of the
most trivial and insignificant kind. There is a case in this morning's
paper which illustrates this. A gentleman has disappeared rather
mysteriously. He was last seen by the servant of a relative at whose
house he had called. Now, if this gentleman should never reappear, dead
or alive, the question as to what was the latest moment at which he was
certainly alive will turn upon the further question: 'Was he or was he
not wearing a particular article of jewellery when he called at that
relative's house?'"
He paused with a reflective eye bent upon the stump of chalk that he
still held; then, noting the expectant interest with which we were
regarding him, he resumed:
"The circumstances in this case are very curious; in fact, they are
highly mysterious; and if any legal issues should arise in respect of
them, they are likely to yield some very remarkable complications. The
gentleman who has disappeared, Mr. John Bellingham, is a man well known
in archaeological circles. He recently returned from Egypt, bringing
with him a very fine collection of antiquities--some of which, by the
way, he has presented to the British Museum, where they are now on
view--and having made this presentation, he appears to have gone to
Paris on business. I may mention that the gift consisted of a very fine
mummy and a complete set of tomb-furniture. The latter, however, had not
arrived from Egypt at the time when the missing man left for Paris, but
the mummy was inspected on the fourteenth of October at Mr. Bellingham's
house by Dr. Norbury of the British Museum, in the presence of the donor
and his solicitor, and the latter was authorised to hand over the
complete collection to the British Museum authorities when the
tomb-furniture arrived; which he has since done.
"From Paris he seems to have returned on the twenty-third of November,
and to have gone direct from Charing Cross to the house of a relative, a
Mr. Hurst, who is a bachelor and lives at Eltham. He appeared at the
house at twenty minutes past five, and as Mr. Hurst had not yet come
down from town and was not expected until a quarter to six, he explained
who he was and said he would wait in the study and write some letters.
The housemaid accordingly showed him into the study, furnished him with
writing materials, and left him.
"At a quarter to six Mr. Hurst let himself in with his latchkey, and
before the housemaid had time to speak to him he had passed through into
the study and shut the door.
"At six o'clock, when the dinner bell was rung, Mr. Hurst entered the
dining-room alone, and, observing that the table was laid for two, asked
the reason.
"'I thought Mr. Bellingham was staying to dinner, sir,' was 'The
housemaid's' reply.
"'Mr. Bellingham!' exclaimed the astonished host. 'I didn't know he was
here. Why was I not told?'
"'I thought he was in the study with you, sir,' said the housemaid.
"On this a search was made for the visitor, with the result that he was
nowhere to be found. He had disappeared without leaving a trace, and
what made the incident more odd was that the housemaid was certain that
he had not gone out by the front door. For since neither she nor the
cook was acquainted with Mr. John Bellingham, she had remained the whole
time either in the kitchen, which commanded a view of the front gate, or
in the dining-room, which opened into the hall opposite the study door.
The study itself has a French window opening on a narrow grass plot,
across which is a side gate that opens into an alley; and it appears
that Mr. Bellingham must have made his exit by this rather eccentric
route. At any rate--and this is the important fact--he was not in the
house, and no one had seen him leave it.
"After a hasty meal Mr. Hurst returned to town and called at the office
of Mr. Bellingham's solicitor and confidential agent, a Mr. Jellicoe,
and mentioned the matter to him. Mr. Jellicoe knew nothing of his
client's return from Paris, and the two men at once took the train down
to Woodford, where the missing man's brother, Mr. Godfrey Bellingham,
lives. The servant who admitted them said that Mr. Godfrey was not at
home, but that his daughter was in the library, which is a detached
building situated in a shrubbery beyond the garden at the back of the
house. Here the two men found, not only Miss Bellingham, but also her
father, who had come in by the back gate.
"Mr. Godfrey and his daughter listened to Mr. Hurst's story with the
greatest surprise, and assured him that they had neither seen nor heard
anything of John Bellingham.
"Presently the party left the library to walk up to the house; but only
a few feet from the library door Mr. Jellicoe noticed an object lying in
the grass and pointed it out to Mr. Godfrey.
"The latter picked it up, and they all recognised it as a scarab which
Mr. John Bellingham had been accustomed to wear suspended from his
watch-chain. There was no mistaking it. It was a very fine scarab of the
eighteenth dynasty fashioned of lapis lazuli and engraved with the
cartouche of Amenhotep III. It had been suspended by a gold ring
fastened to a wire which passed through the suspension hole, and the
ring, though broken, was still in position.
"This discovery, of course, only added to the mystery, which was still
further increased when, on inquiry, a suit-case bearing the initials
J.B. was found to be lying unclaimed in the cloak-room at Charing Cross.
Reference to the counterfoil of the ticket-book showed that it had been
deposited about the time of arrival of the Continental express on the
twenty-third of November, so that its owner must have gone straight on
to Eltham.
"That is how the affair stands at present, and, should the missing man
never reappear or should his body never be found, the question, as you
see, which will be required to be settled is, 'What is the exact time
and place, when and where, he was last known to be alive?' As to the
place, the importance of the issues involved in that question are
obvious and we need not consider them. But the question of time has
another kind of significance. Cases have occurred, as I pointed out in
the lecture, in which proof of survivorship by less than a minute has
secured succession to property. Now, the missing man was last seen alive
at Mr. Hurst's house at twenty minutes past five on the twenty-third of
November. But he appears to have visited his brother's house at
Woodford, and, since nobody saw him at that house, it is at present
uncertain whether he went there before or after calling on Mr. Hurst. If
he went there first, then twenty minutes past five on the evening of the
twenty-third is the latest moment at which he is known to have been
alive; but if he went there after, there would have to be added to this
time the shortest possible time in which he could travel from the one
house to the other.
"But the question as to which house he visited first hinges on the
scarab. If he was wearing the scarab when he arrived at Mr. Hurst's
house, it would be certain that he went there first; but if it was not
then on his watch-chain, a probability would be established that he
went first to Woodford. Thus, you see, a question which may conceivably
become of the most vital moment in determining the succession of
property turns on the observation or non-observation by this housemaid
of an apparently trivial and insignificant fact."
"Has the servant made any statement on the subject, sir?" I ventured to
inquire.
"Apparently not," replied Dr. Thorndyke; "at any rate, there is no
reference to any such statement in the newspaper report, though,
otherwise, the case is reported in great detail; indeed, the wealth of
detail, including plans of the two houses, is quite remarkable and well
worth noting as being in itself a fact of considerable interest."
"In what respect, sir, is it of interest?" one of the students asked.
"Ah!" replied Dr. Thorndyke, "I think I must leave you to consider that
question yourself. This is an untried case, and we mustn't make free
with the actions and motives of individuals."
"Does the paper give any description of the missing man, sir?" I asked.
"Yes; quite an exhaustive description. Indeed, it is exhaustive to the
verge of impropriety, considering that the man may possibly turn up
alive and well at any moment. It seems that he has an old Pott's
fracture of the left ankle, a linear, longitudinal scar on each
knee--origin not stated, but easily guessed at--and that he has tattooed
on his chest in vermilion a very finely and distinctly executed
representation of the symbolical Eye of Osiris--or Horus or Ra, as the
different authorities have it. There certainly ought to be no
difficulty in identifying the body. But we will hope that it won't come
to that.
"And now I must really be running away, and so must you; but I would
advise you all to get copies of the paper and file them when you have
read the remarkably full details. It is a most curious case, and it is
highly probable that we shall hear of it again. Good afternoon,
gentlemen."
Dr. Thorndyke's advice appealed to all who heard it, for medical
jurisprudence was a live subject at St. Margaret's and all of us were
keenly interested in it. As a result, we sallied forth in a body to the
nearest newsvendor's, and, having each provided himself with a copy of
the _Daily Telegraph_, adjourned together to the Common Room to devour
the report and thereafter to discuss the bearings of the case,
unhampered by those considerations of delicacy that afflicted our more
squeamish and scrupulous teacher.