THE DEAD MAN'S BROTHER
Polke hastily followed the policeman from the room--to return
immediately with a quiet-looking elderly gentleman in whom Neale and
Starmidge saw a distinct likeness to the dead man.
"His brother!" whispered Polke, as he handed a chair to the visitor. "So
you've seen about this in the newspapers, sir?" he went on, turning to
Mr. Leonard Hollis. "And you thought you'd better come over, I suppose?"
"I have not only read about it in the newspapers," answered the visitor,
"but I last night--very late--received a telegram from my brother's
clerk--Mr. Simmons--who evidently found my address at my brother's
rooms. So I left Birmingham--where I now live--at once, to see you. Now,
have you heard anything of my brother?"
Polke shook his head solemnly and warningly.
"I'm sorry to say we have, sir," he replied. "You'd better prepare for
the worst news, Mr. Hollis. We found the body this morning--not two
hours ago. And--we don't know, as yet, how he came by his death. The
doctors say it may have been pure accident. Let's hope it was! But there
are strange circumstances, sir--very strange!"
Hollis quietly rose from his chair.
"I suppose I can see him?" he asked.
Polke led him out of the room, and Starmidge turned to Neale.
"We're gradually getting at something, Mr. Neale," he said. "All this
leads somewhere, you know. Now, since we found that incomplete cheque,
there's a question I wanted to ask you. You've left Chestermarke's Bank
now, and under the circumstances we're working in you needn't have any
delicacy about answering questions about them. Do you know of any recent
transaction of theirs which involved ten thousand pounds?"
"No!" replied Neale. "I certainly don't."
"Nor any sum approaching it?" suggested Starmidge. "Or exceeding it?"
"Nothing whatever!" reiterated Neale. "I know of all recent banking
transactions at Chestermarke's, and I can't think--I've been thinking
since we saw that cheque--of anything that the cheque had to do with."
"Well--it's a queer thing," remarked the detective meditatively. "I'll
lay anything Hollis brought that cheque down here for some specific
purpose--and who on earth is there in this place that he could bring it
to but Chestermarke's? However, we'll see if I don't trace something
about it when I get up to town, and then----"
Polke and the dead man's brother came back, talking earnestly. The
superintendent carefully closed the door, and begging his visitor to be
seated again, turned to Starmidge.
"I've told Mr. Hollis all the main facts of the case," he said. "Of
course, he identified his brother at once."
"When did you see him last, sir!" asked Starmidge.
"Some eight or nine months ago," replied Hollis. "He came to see me, in
Birmingham. Previous to that, I hadn't seen him for several years. I
ought to tell you," he went on, turning to Polke, "that for a great many
years I have lived abroad--tea-planting in Ceylon. I came back to
England about a year ago, and eventually settled down at Edgbaston. I
suppose my brother's clerk found my address on an old letter or
something last night, and wired to me in consequence."
"When Simmons was here," observed Starmidge, "he said that your brother
seemed to have no relations."
"I daresay Simmons would get that impression," remarked Hollis. "My
brother was a very reserved man, who was not likely to talk much of his
family. As a matter of fact, I am about the only relation he had--except
some half-cousins, or something of that sort."
"Can you tell us anything about your brother's position?" asked
Starmidge. "The clerk said he didn't practise very much, and had means
of his own."
"Quite true," assented Hollis. "I believe he had a comfortable income,
apart from his practice--perhaps five or six hundred a year. He
mentioned to me that he only did business for old clients."
"Do you think he'd be likely to have a sum of ten thousand pounds lying
at his bankers?" inquired Starmidge.
Hollis looked sharply at the detective and then shook his head.
"Not unless it was for some special purpose," he answered. "He might
have such a sum if he'd been selling out securities for re-investment.
But my impression is--in fact, it's more than an impression--I'm sure
that he bought himself an annuity of about the amount I mentioned just
now, some years ago. You see, he'd no children, and he knew that I was a
well-to-do man, so--he used his capital in that a way."
"Would you be surprised to see a cheque of his drawn for ten thousand
pounds?" asked Starmidge suddenly.
"Frankly, I should!" replied Hollis, with a smile. "That is, if it was
on his private account."
"Do you happen to know who kept his private account?" inquired
Starmidge.
"Yes," answered Hollis. "He banked with an old private firm called
Vanderkiste, Mullineau & Company, of Lombard Street."
Starmidge, after a whispered word with Polke, took up the envelope in
which he had placed the dead man's letter-case, and produced the cheque.
"Look at that, sir," he said, laying it before the visitor. "Is that
your brother's handwriting?"
"His handwriting--oh, yes!" exclaimed Hollis. "Most certainly!
But--there's no signature!"
"No--and there's no name of any payee," said Starmidge. "That's where
the mystery comes in. But--this--and this letter-case and its
contents--was found on him, and there's no doubt he came down to
Scarnham intending to pay that cheque to somebody. You can't throw any
light on that, sir?"
The visitor, who continued to regard the cheque with evident amazement,
at last turned away from it and glanced at his three companions.
"Well," he said, "I don't know that I can. But one principal reason why
I hurried here, after getting Simmons' telegram last night, is this: In
the newspapers there is a good deal of mention of a Mr. John Horbury,
manager of a bank in this town. He, too, you tell me, has disappeared.
Now, I happen to possess a remarkably good memory, and it was at once
stirred by seeing that name. My brother Frederick and I were at school
together at Selburgh--Selburgh Grammar School, you know--quite
thirty-five or six years ago. One of our schoolmates was a John Horbury.
And--he came from this place--Scarnham."
The three listeners looked at each other. And Neale started, as if at
some sudden reminiscence, and he spoke quickly.
"I've heard Mr. Horbury speak of his school-days at Selburgh!" he said.
"And--now I come to think of it--he had some books with the school
coat-of-arms on the sides--prizes."
"Just so!" remarked Hollis. "I remember Jack Horbury very well indeed,
though I never saw him after I left school, nor heard of him either,
until I saw all this news about him in the papers. Of course, your
missing bank manager is the John Horbury my brother and I were at school
with! And I take it that the reason my brother came down to Scarnham
last Saturday was--to see John Horbury."
Starmidge had been listening to all this with close attention. He was
now more than ever convinced that he was at last on some track--but so
far he could not see many steps ahead. Nevertheless, his next step was
clearly enough discernible.
"You say you saw your brother some eight or nine months ago, sir?" he
remarked. "Did he mention Mr. Horbury to you at that time?"
"No, he didn't," replied Hollis.
"Did he ever--recently, I mean--ever mention his name to you in a
letter?" asked Starmidge.
"No--never! I don't know," said Hollis, "that he or I ever spoke to each
other of John Horbury from the time we left school. John Horbury was
not, as it were, a very particular chum of ours. We knew him--as we knew
a hundred other boys. As I have already told you, the two names,
Horbury, Scarnham, in the newspapers yesterday, immediately recalled
John Horbury, our schoolmate, to me. Up to then, I don't suppose I'd
ever thought of him for--years! And I don't suppose he'd ever thought of
me, or of my brother. Yet--I feel sure my brother came here to see him.
For business reasons, I suppose?"
"The odd thing about that, Mr. Hollis," remarked Polke, "is that we
can't find the slightest reason, either from anybody here, or from your
brother's clerk in London, why your brother should come to see Horbury,
whether for business, or for any other purpose. And as to his
remembering Mr. Frederick Hollis, well, here's Mr. Neale--Mr. Horbury
was his guardian--and Mr. Neale, of course, has known him all his life.
Now, Mr. Neale never heard him mention Mr. Frederick Hollis by name at
any time. And there's now staying in the town Mr. Horbury's niece, Miss
Fosdyke; she, too, never heard her uncle speak of any Mr. Hollis. Then,
as to business--the partners at Chestermarke's Bank declare that they
know nothing whatever of your brother--Mr. Gabriel, the senior partner,
has seen the poor gentleman, and didn't recognize him. So--we at any
rate, are as wise as ever. We don't know what your brother came here
for!"
Hollis bowed his head in full acceptance of the superintendent's
remarks. But he looked up at Starmidge and smiled.
"Exactly!" he said. "I quite understand you, Mr. Polke. But--I am
convinced that my brother came here to see John Horbury. Why he came, I
know no more than you do--but I hope to know!"
"You'll stay in the town a bit, sir?" suggested Polke. "You'll want to
make arrangements for your poor brother's funeral, of course. Aught that
we can do, sir, to help, shall be done."
"I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Polke," replied Hollis. "Yes, I shall
certainly stay in Scarnham. In fact," he went on, rising and looking
quietly from one man to the other, "I shall stay in Scarnham until I,
or you, or somebody have satisfactorily explained how my brother came to
his death! I shall spare neither effort nor money to get at the
truth--that's my determination!"
"There's somebody else in like case with you, Mr. Hollis," observed
Polke. "Miss Fosdyke's just as concerned about her uncle as you are
about your brother. She declares she'll spend a fortune on finding
him--or finding out what's happened to him. It was Miss Fosdyke insisted
on having Detective-Sergeant Starmidge down at once."
Hollis quietly scrutinized the detective.
"Well?" he asked. "And what do you make of it?"
But Starmidge was not in the mood for saying anything more just then,
and he put his questioner off, asking him, at the same time, to keep the
matter of the cheque to himself. Presently Hollis went away with Neale,
to whom he wished to talk, and Starmidge, after a period of what seemed
to be profound thought, turned to Polke.
"Superintendent!" he said earnestly. "With your leave, I'd like to try
an experiment."
"What experiment?" demanded Polke.
Starmidge pointed to the ten thousand pound cheque, which was still
lying on the table.
"I'd like to take that cheque across to Chestermarke's Bank, and show it
to the partners," he answered.
"Good heavens!--why?" exclaimed Polke. "I thought you didn't want
anybody to know about it."
"Never mind--I've an idea," said the detective. "I'd just like them to
see it, anyway, and," he added, with a wink, "I'd like to see them when
they do see it!"
"You know best," said Polke. "If you think it well, do it."
Starmidge put the cheque in an envelope and walked over to the bank. He
was shown into the partners' room almost immediately, and the two men
glanced at him with evident curiosity.
"Sorry to trouble you, gentlemen," said Starmidge, in his politest
manner. "There's a little matter you might help us in. We've been
searching this unfortunate gentleman's clothing, you know, for papers
and so on. And in his letter-case we found--this!"
He had the cheque ready behind his back, and he suddenly brought it
forward, and laid it immediately before the partners, on Gabriel's desk,
at the same time stepping back so that he could observe both men.
"Queer, isn't it, gentlemen?" he remarked quietly. "Incomplete!"
Gabriel Chestermarke, in spite of his habitual control, started: Joseph,
bending nearer to the desk, made a curious sound of surprise. A second
later they both looked at Starmidge--each as calm as ever. "Well?" said
Gabriel.
"You don't know anything about that, gentlemen?" asked Starmidge,
affecting great innocence.
"Nothing!" answered Gabriel.
"Of course not!" murmured Joseph, a little derisively.
"I thought you might recognize that handwriting," suggested Starmidge,
using one of his previously invented excuses.
"No!" replied Gabriel. "Don't know it!"
"From Adam's writing," added Joseph.
"You know the name of the bankers, I suppose, gentlemen?" asked the
detective.
"Vanderkiste? Oh, yes!" assented Gabriel. "Well-known city firm. But I
don't think we've ever done business with them," he added, turning to
his nephew.
"Never!" replied Joseph. "In my time, at any rate."
Starmidge picked up the cheque and carefully replaced it in its
envelope.
"Much obliged to you, gentlemen," he said, retreating towards the door.
"Oh!--you'll be interested in hearing, no doubt, that the dead man's
brother, Mr. Leonard Hollis, of Birmingham, has come. He's identified
the body."
"And what does he think, or suggest?" asked Joseph, glancing out of the
corners of his eyes at Starmidge. "Has he any suggestions--or ideas?"
"He thinks his brother came here to meet Mr. Horbury," answered
Starmidge.
"That's so evident that it's no news," remarked Joseph. "Perhaps he can
suggest where Horbury's to be found."
Starmidge bowed and went out and straight back to Polke. He handed him
the cheque and the letter-case.
"Lock 'em up!" he said. "Now then, listen! You can do all that's
necessary about that inquest. I'm off to town. Sit down, and I'll tell
you why. And what I tell you, keep to yourself."
That evening, Starmidge, who had driven quietly across the country from
Scarnham to Ecclesborough, joined a London express at the Midland
Station in the big town. The carriages were unusually full, and he had
some difficulty in finding the corner seat that he particularly desired.
But he got one, at last, at the very end of the train, and he had only
just settled himself in it when he saw Gabriel Chestermarke hurry past.
Starmidge put his head out of the window and watched--Gabriel entered a
first-class compartment in the next coach.
"First stop Nottingham!" mused the detective. And he pulled a sheaf of
telegram forms out of his pocket, and leisurely began to write a message
which before he signed his name to it had run into many words.